Podcasts about Beg

Send me a message!Perhaps the most important podcast I've recorded to date, listen into this conversation I had with Profe Morgan Bennett, about the importance of ending Beg, Borrow, Steal culture, and instead shift to one of "Ask, Acknowledge, Appreciate". To connect with Morgan, follow her on Instagram at: @Profe_BennettLet's Connect! My BlogMy YouTubeMy InstagramMy WebsiteMy TPT storeJoin La Familia Loca PLC

“Look what they eye unearthed,” leaning into the tip of my ear with the warmth and closeness of the coming waves, high tide approaching in the waning moon. “More secrets.” I replied. It was a question but also a statement— there was never such as this the luminescent trace of the glowing lava that was his force and might that I could not see for miles before he would even wander— first in twinkling stars and then later the wind itself and the birds, and then beneath the waves, like the quaking shake of a mighty oak anchored elsewhere and tied to the sea. “So you know.” I was hoping he would kill me before the next time I had to ever really know anything. He was the subject, and the predicate The wrong done, and the justice She was the pride and the prejudice But Judas brings the law Did you look in the box? No, I– [The Box Is The Box] –No, I haven't. Nearly three nights ago, a mysterious box arrived on the doorstep of an equally mysterious writer, who spends their time in isolation due to the often unannounced arrival of various ghosts, spirits, time travelers, and other figures by instant teleportation and other magical forms of transportation into their shabby New York apartment. Some of ya'll got so many air wick plug ins and scentci wax melts you don't know you smell like booboo. It's an illusion. You leave your house, You smell like booboo. I promise. Oh, God, I think I need a drink. Are you alright? Let me just–sit down for a second. Of course. My God. What's wrong. Look, i'm not supposed to say anything about this but. What's wrong? It's nothing, I'm just–I'm in a song. …what? A song! Is that all?! You don't understand. It's not a normal kind of song. It's– [takes a puff of inhaler] You wouldn't understand. Well what's so wrong about being in a song? Its not – a regular song–and it's not [gasping] finished! I still kind of wanted to be a comedian–but I knew I wasn't funny in the way that made sense to keep going and stand up there. I was still writing comedy, but I didn't know how to take myself out of it–the truth was, I was in a lot of pain. A lot of emotional pain that was becoming physical–and I didn't know what to do about it to break the barrier of nervousness and blank slate state of feeling the audience's perceptions of me more overwhelmingly than ever feeling myself. look at this song. I know huh. It's purple. Every time. It is purple. And what is that. Like a muted trombone? IS THAT A TROMBONE? Or a tuba? No, it has to be a trombone…becasue you can hear it slide– And that's what that sound is. What a sneaky rabbit. Super sneaky rabbit. So if i can see all this, I'm almost certainly sure the motorcycles outside and the slamming doors are meant to murder me. I'm sure that's what it is. You ever notice how being broke in New York makes you a bad person? Like, if you're broke, you're just automatically shitty. I never meant to be in New York broke. I never meant to be in New York, But I certainly never meant to be here and be poor, Poor in New York? Automatically a shitty person. Despite how you act. You can be a rich piece of shit— But the status is automatically “You got dough? Oh, alright. Carry on” That's the attitude in New York City. Crap people get by cause they got their hands on some money and the rules in New York say it doesn't really matter how you come by it, As long as you come by it. There's no real rules or real laws to it— Just “Get the money” Well god damn. This makes me nervous. I'm an artist. I've tried everything. I didn't mean to be the automatic enemy here. Of course not. But New York is a terrifying place to me, now, Cause I realized I can be a very sweet, very humble, very honest person— And that kind of shit doesn't matter here, really. It brings you no respect to be decent. It's about the money. So I'm a musician— which in New York also makes me like, Automatically not special, And I'm trying to just be a musician, and so naturally, I'm broke. Like broke in half. Like all my bills are late. But music is my solace. So I'm listening to music, And I'm listening to a song that is so beautiful, that I start to cry. The first time I heard it, it made me cry And I'm listening to it over, and it made me cry And it's so beautiful, and God is so beautiful And look at what God did, So I'm crying, And I don't even know what it is about the beauty of it that's making me cry, But it's making me cry, And New York hears me crying And New York goes “I'll give you something to cry about” And I open my email And there's a bill from my landlord reminding me how often I'm talked about due to my late payments— And I'm realizing I've been here two years and I still don't have any money, Even though I've been trying and trying And trying So now I'm crying for other reasons. Thanks a lot, New York. “I'll give you something to cry about” So I did. If there's anything worse than being black in a city that hates blacks— It's being broke in a city that hates broke people. So I haven't spent any money in awhile. Not even on little things, or things I need. I just stay inside, and work, and think And try and really try To figure out how to make money Without having any, or spending any. Cause you can have it, and spend it, but it's always a gamble. Maybe all I needed was a good cry. But now it's not for the right reasons I'm not crying cause something is so beautiful and look at what God did I'm crying because of what I'm sure is just the devil I'm crying for the wrong things Not because of something that's so very beautiful But because of something that's so very ugly With just a wave of the hand And the flick of each finger as it rolls into a crisp closed palm, A flick of birds fell to the ground, bursting with caws Below his stance, and in a flutter of feathers and wings, The evil master, unmoved and untouched, Untouchable in his weight and glory, simply only even mildly and barely smirks at all. He has defeated all and still somehow, not won. Some say it's sure to come, the thing that wants and gathers ties; Some say surely it is yet but withered and then sure again will come It has, five times, and barely waded, Waking in the midsts of my pure eye, The morning light and fog, aye? Ye, they remembers none but our Art, And I'm bound as sure by wing and force Is you to dozens of masses, And ships having sailed but one, Which I have flourished and kept And stocked with these, the masses And yea having spade, and having friends And having honor, there was none past kept and mine, sured; And wicked may as wicked be but evil none truer thou nones't had yet pured, and muted and gathered, I have, And woken and laid and barren and truths do'st tied, And there have been shooken and wait, And m faire'd and barred here, and hereforth My duty it is to forward, forward, my shallows For my shadow, For my golden hour has shined and now you, These caged shall fly, And these thoughts shall sing, And these hour conspired to miss my time daily, And these things, beytraying that— There have no times at all, These walls in holy temples kept, swaying and cadences, and wearing, and weary, And foreign and ayered, aye— and armored. And he, you, does not wish to know but also has known— and does not wish to see, but he, too has blinded, and does not wish to betray, and yet has been crowned, made with guilt and also Shattered, as it was, And shatters, as it came, the wave o'er all us and tide sinking under, and caves and rebels and heart laid bare to surf not suffer, Nor cap nor keeping, nor tied nor honor, No, honor her; No honor came and I have tied also, this tie to mine, and another, and another and another Now forward. Forward! Forward! Damn, Conan's monologues he going deep. Yeah, I guess. He's fine, right? Look, you don't need this. Just promise me. I am sorry. Mr Jimmy has it good, too good Little sister doesn't have a heart. But didn't know it Mister music made it in the industry, too hat Mister rager had a sip at dinner It was all dramatic Stars went falling Crashing down and All it is Ms. Martha Is mismanagement of energy All it is, Ms. Margret is a magnet And it hasn't happened badly since I had a handle on it But I still get sick of madness And I still get sick with city sickness Still, forget the dancer I was sitting on the show, In the audience With my mother, Oh the models, Dozens of them Blondes and ballet buns, the brunettes I was just a lost cause And I wanted it all, the tux and the bow tie I wanted you gone so I looked at it harder Until It became nothing but Clouds in the sky You were stardust I'm a comet Here comes crashing, Had to find the progress report Then I lost it Soggy in the sideways rain It was days and days Do you promise? That's a concept? Do you promise God will be alright, Cause I came running Sent them under cover Sent the men a message Send the man a hammer Sitting in a hammock No one homes the hostile If you don't have anything nice to say Then don't say anything at all And certainly don't come and go As often as you want to It's a game of control; you know The whites, when they still want to own you Somehow I'm all sub so honest, I just—wanted that But only for a man and never bow to another woman Even if on my honor I found us as equals And no one walks the earth as calmly As someone whose never had their lights out Or had their light put out Or their lights turned off Who are God now? Who's our God, man? Who's our God, Math. That's heavy weight, And if you want a biblical fate This is Fallon, And if you watch what you ate You cut calories And if you want the girl back Give it Californian And I'm not towrth much more Than the project housing, Or a handful of candy corn, Conan— But I phone in Oscars, Still no nuts for the rabbit, And if you wanted the bunker back— You can have it. I'm all hands down in a game of poker Heaven doesn't want it Gotta get drunk not once, but at all the goalposts, Gotta count one, not two, the show hosts Too few car parts Wicked, mazes, starfold, gazes Wishes, Martyred. (But pronounced mar-tired} V.O I think about jay Leno a lot. Lately, anyway. I don't know why. I like all the hosts. Somebody. Tell me why Dillon Francis looks like JD Vance. I think he's a clone. Tel me why I know who JD Vance is. They're clones. Tell me why. Back to the future here and now So. Where do you want to go? Anywhere but here. Anywhere but here is kind of far, are you sure you're up for it? Good one, doc Though head of the alumni chapter of the cult-within a cult—to which each African American cast member of Saturday night live is automatically inducted into— EDDIE MURPHY refuses to participate in the group's latest and most complicated ritual. Delivery. Uh, I didn't order any— Breadsticks. What. Breadsticks. I didn't order any— Just— The delivery man hands over the breadsticks. —take them. Oh…Kay. See ya. The delivery man reaches in and shuts the door himself. Uh… Lol is this the one where the mysterious breadsticks are delivered without ever being ordered, and then they end up being the best breadsticks in the world, but they don't know where they came from? Yes. I think so. Lol I bought a planner because so much I loved Joan Rivers, and I planned to fill it with all the places I should go— because keeping anything digital online was not only not working as far as remembering places I wanted or needed to be be, but it was dangerous, also. I was already being tracked, and I couldn't afford a new phone just yet. Eventually, but for now I was stuck to the same signal— which meant the same traces and the same trackers they had been limiting my under-the-radar mystique. As it were, somebody always knew where I was, and it was in the most unpleasant way so far—the only thing I really wandered was what made me so important anyway to begin with. I wasn't actually political in anyway, and still someone seemed to be trying to derail my life… or at least control it, neither of which was beneficial for me in the way that made sense. I wasn't having any fun, nor did I consider living indoors as payment— especially since indoors, there were also paid plants and stalkers, and now that I had begun to more meticulously document the things that were happening, it was easy to separate from delusions. I was actually being followed— but why? Either way, having a detailed. Calendar of places I could go, the ways to get there and even alternate functions within the same grid allowed more control than just staying in my apartment a sitting duck; that's how they were hurting me. They knew where I was— all the time, and it no longer made sense to fight it and try to make music under this kind of insane irritation; the music I was making wasn't the kind I wanted anyway, and whatever war they were fighting with m stark white girls motorcycles was simply not my war. I didn't have a war, and so there wasn't a fight, and so at the very least if I were going to be fucked with, it would have to be in public; that way I had more control to steer whatever was happening in my favor and collect the energy as mine instead of lost. I wasn't an insane person— but what had been happening at my apartment was insane, and so I left it with the understanding that these people worked and operated on a level of violence and ignorance I would never be able to comprehend; they were simply tools for the devil, which in any case, was always the lesser than God. However— because I was starting to figure out who I was, and that I had some sort of power, I knew that I was going to be attacked— because it seemed my power had at the very least not been figured out as to some kind of way to make somebody else money. I had been studying Michael Jackson and this was a key indication that the way his talent priovided a power which would be used as a service, he was very successful. His talent and training alone wouldn't have reapresented with such great reverence the ability to capture a global audience as such— but it was this power, almost as if it had been bottled up and altered, rebranded and sold and labeled with something everyone could not only love and understand, but by the hand of the media and its conglomerates, be hypnotized to worship, and this power simply put would not have been exactly what it was were it not for the eye of the media remaining in complete control of its distribution to the eyes and ears of the public. This thing which might have been the first of its kind but certainly not the last was in a sense model for modern superstardom— the live concert business had not sense much changed but built upon this super powered control of the masses by assimilation, spectacle, and of course the magic and illusion. But, and it it just so happened to perfectly brush up against my studies in esoteric knowledge that I happened to rub up against this— although nothing was of course by mere circumstance anymore, because whether or not I remained incognito was a wash, and I was being looked at by someone no matter what on the internet I did, or where I decided to go and in that sense was being fed these things, and yet with some Grace of God was allowed with it to be aligned with my own higher purpose in a way, I could observe that Michael Jackson was not in fact of course certainly just a dancer or singer or remarkable performer— he was truly a magician, and I was able to clearly recognize this language with with the energy that had used his vehicle for such a projection was speaking— not only this, I was able to clearly count out the markings and sigils and signs and symbols Michael was making in his movement; ancient arts, and magical symbols, traced so rapidly that it almost created a heat signature in a sense of the symbols that were being dictated, unknowing to the untrained eye. For the most part, I could only really assume that this is why these people were losing their minds— in his movements, Michael Jackson was literally carving ancient callings, glyphs and sigils I had so recently read about in magical studies that it was impossible not to laugh. This was in every sense of the word, ‘magic' but not in the normal way one assumes to be something unexplainable. Michael Jackson was casting spells to thousands of people at a time, in front of cameras and at high volume vibration, often times even implementing the use of light, color, and fire. These were not simple gatherings in mass for entertainment purposes— these were rituals, and in the modern day, still were or are— but I had noticed in a quick glimpse, from Michael Jackson 30 some odd years ago to Lady Gaga just having passed something like a week ago to an audience of the same size— that something was kind of wrong, now. The people had changed, and the specable had been done over and over, and the brainwashing of the masses had in a sense been almost complete— and so It wasn't some sense of confusion or unknowing the things that were happening to me in my own life and my own world— I too, was capable of these things, at that capacity, and had simply not been trained in the same sense of the ideal superstar, however— the things that were happening in my own life and in my own world were not difficult to grasp or understand— when one comes upon a power as such, it finds means to seek to control it and harness it for his own use and purposes. Perhaps it was the simple fact that in this way, in the way I get the dream had gone and the spectacle had been played out of the masses and the illusion was no longer as such— that the actual knowledge of distinct ancient wisdom that had been Michael Jackson's natural ability was distinguishable from that of Lady Gaga's training in the same formula, and that one did not equal the other, but in terms of business could equal to that as such as the masses had been manipulated to seek solace in these same things— and it was not illusion or grandiosity that I, even in my agingness, was still capable of these things; I had no doubt in my mind that I could sing and dance for two hours to audiences of hundreds of thousands— but this was not the question for the business or the media— the question was, would hundreds of thousands pay to see me, or rather— who was willing to front the means to hypnotize hundreds of people to become aware of me so that they would do such a thing. My talent and capabilities were undeniable— but my markatability might have been in question, because it was no longer simply a matter or chance or luck: the people chosen to figure such spectacle were chosen, hand selected and well trained to become media conglomerate superstars, even regardless of talent; perhaps this itself was the key indication that the world of the superstar itself had come to an end—it was no longer so much of a spectacle was worth it. Or, perhaps, because money had come between these ancient arts and symbols and languages being spoken by the superstars of old, that the magic in the literal sense had gone all the way away. The symbolism in the art had died, and so the singing and the dancing remained, but the God had gone out of it. Maybe that was the difference. The superstars of today were just the shell of the model that had been built on God, but the Godsense of it was no longer there— and so the magic no longer remained in effect, as the powers of magic that be are in all ancient arts and texts and forms attributive to The Source. Either way, I wasn't going to continue to be a sitting duck in my apartment in Brooklyn— there were too many indications that it had all been a setup from the shelter to the day I moved in, with the motorcycles and cars and CBS studios one block away. So the real and only question was, what exactly had been played at and who exactly was pulling the strings? I might at this point become a loose cannon: my son was estranged and as far as the people were concerned, I mostly hated New York— because the refined, clean cut and classy people I liked and wanted to be around saw me as the dirt and the grime I was fighting my way through just to simply exist— in my mind, this was a world that could be no more. I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress Keep writing I never thought I ‘d see the day Where i's taking lessons on Fallon From Michael Jackson That's ran That's a fan This is fame I'm insane I'm insane That's a fan Light the flame That's a fan. That's a fan. I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I went up the rack, set the page on fire Nordstrom rack And I might take it back for the cash I like Sara in a dress Stay repressed Keep it dark If you kiss don't tell I will probably go to hell for just writing Try it In black ink, I got all spades, Ehy, Spare me the ridicule, the imbecile and I met Johnny in a cage I like Fallon in a dress, Obsessive, I'm dressed out Every day I leave where I do not live Where stalker crawl and haunt me Just to show the motorcycles Have desheveled my intelligence into Nothing And so with negligence, I leave the core of a rotting apple The foreign words of a doctor And You must call the king, says something far off But I wonder which one I wonder which one I so respect her honor That I no longer Follow my heart or my soul And I don't shallow But shatter to swallow So I let the sparrow Out of the cage I bought Sara A pair of pants And I haunt l Patrick Kirkpatrick in patches And haven't you read yet You're ready for forget the pageant? It hasn't happened yet! I love Sara in a dress I hate Fallon and his wife Keep the kids out if it Skull and crossbones Cross my heart and Really hope to the loveless Or else Someone might call my phone back It's on silent in my coffin Or wait— It's on vibrate. I'm obsessed with the way You're dressed And the name on your checks I guess I'm better for it I'll skip lunch if you think that's what's best And dinner, too If you deserve the best Then better have learned my lesson No sweat And to do, With you, Was then, Dinner through next supper All the love I had was Rubbed into something other than The glass I patted dry With microfiber With ever fiber of my being I want to be with you I should have just— Died, And then Did, and so next Life, Remind me not to Fall for it If i really wanted to know you,I would know you by now– If i wanted to have you? I would have had you already Nobody is a dancer after Michael Jackson. I just watched some shit that was like “What the fuck did I just see” The whole thing was just not right. It was-/ I was like First of all, it's Munich, 1997. I never really realized how terribly the world has changed; No cellphones, but the audience is lit, And the crazy thing is, you can tell that this is near the turn of the century because, when the camera is panning by the audience in the people, they're not looking directly into the camera or waving at the camera— not really. And clearly this is an all ages show, so there's children, so the interesting thing I'm finding out is that nobody's trained to look at the camera and wave and smile— except the babies on shoulders and shit. These kids— they're my age now, are the only ones that see the camera, and they look directly into the shit. Mi still can't do that, really— I'm theatrically trained. Haha If I see a camera, I try to act ‘natural' It's the weirdest thing to look at a camera and just start to work it. People at festivals now, the camera rolls by, Or the drone flies in, And they look deadass in the camera and start to work it. Not at this show. Munich 1997, I'm like “Damn, a lot of things is wrong with this” First of all, I love Michael Jackson, I look directly at this man, and I'm in my dirty peak so I have an instant— like a sex detector thing going on And I know people gave Michael a hard time when he was a live for being fruity and whatever But I'm looking at this dude, and I don't see fruit at all. I see 100% man. I see why people were mad at him. Cause I'm looking at this dude, 100% All I see is carnal, primal man. I'm like, “Yo, I see why they was mad at him” Because the camera kept panning to the audience And these people are losing their minds. They are coming out of themselves. They are UGLY CRYING, full out of body, Losing composure They don't know what to do. That's Michael Jackson. He's right there! And the place is huge so really besides these few hundreds of people in the front, Michael's just a speck, But he's working this audience like “Yo, you know who I am, I know who is me” And I'm realizing, that to these people That's their god. These girls are losing their minds m “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!l *crying inconsolably* Just UGLY crying Bitch, get it together . You all the way lost yourself Get. It together. She won't. This bitch. I can't get over this This one girl, They just keep going back to her Cause the whole show— And this is like 2 hours of pure non stop Michael Jackson, This girl, every time you see her, she's just ugly crying— And every time you see her Her cry is uglier and ugly I'm like “Damn bitch” “Daaaaaaang” So this is the first thing I see that is wrong. But there's a lot of things wrong here, Cause there's a lot of girls like this. There's just— hundreds of girls losing their minds, like, I've seen Beatles mania and thought that was crazy, Shit, I've even seen some people put out that kind of energy in the modern world for some dumb DJ's— That's their god— But THIS THIS Michael Jackson mania was mental illness That was hard to watch. That was people just Lost control. I'm thinking “Like goddamn. You— what?!” “AAagghhhhhhgahahahahahqhahahhahaha MICHAELl “These people are sick” But they are. And so is Michael Fame has gone too far, 1997; 12 short years before he died, by chance— So this is what I see, And then Michael starts dancing, And this— This is what I see; I see the only thing that can ever be what it was in that moment in time, as God being God: Michael Jackson. Shiny ass motherfucker, And so I'm watching this show, And all I see is a God being a man being a God being— Michael Jackson— And the whole thing is weird. But the worst part— Yes The worst part Was when, about mid show, Michael goes to do one of his slow, lovey doves songs, And like, this 6 foot 7 type body guard guy, Just pops up out of nowhere, Comes dead front and center to one of these little girls losing their minds, Runs up on her in an instant; You don't even have time to think— And just SNATCHES her— Snatches the bitch— “Ah!” then throws her up on stage with Michael— And he's still singing; this is his game, this is part of the show, he knows— But she doesn't know, And she's just lost her mind, She won't let go She's hugging and kissing on the dude, She's lost her mind, She's ugly crying She's on the floor, She's kissing his hand She's really lost her good goddamn mind— And they pan out to the audience, And all the girls that didn't get picked Are like WHY NOT MEEEEEEEREEEEE?!? THE UGLY CRIES ARE EVEN UGLIER NOW, They're like “Wh—what?” You don't know?! “WHY NOT ME” They're holding each other crying, Michael's just doing his thing, He's unphased, He's trying to play along; He's a professional like a motherfucker; He's just— keeps singing And this girl is just, Losing it, so at this point, it's weird, She's crazy batshit lost her mind all the way, Won't let go of Michael, kissing his face while he's singing, He's kind of unreceptive to it, now just looking out at the audience, almost not even looking at all Just cold as fuck actually, Like she's not there, kissing his face Cold as fuck— And then another bouncer dude— An even bigger one in a blue suit, comes and tears her off of Michael Cause clearly this has gone too far or whatever And I'm thinking “What in the fuck did I just see” Blue suit dude just snatches, Just— He has to tear her off of him! She's kicking and screaming and getting dragged off stage Michael's just: singing. YO. Then they dragged her back stage. Where did she go?! WHO DID SHE BECOME?! WHAT IN THE FUCK DID I JUST SEE?!? WHAT. 1997. You can't do that shit anymore! You cannot snatch bitches like that. I seen. Watch the video. Tell me what's wrong with it. It's disgusting. Not the snatching, Not the— Like, that was weird But the screaming and the crying and the— Like okay, the snatching was bad— But I'm like … ..:: …. Now I see why they was mad. Don't ever forget he was once— A dark skinned little boy, And in his genetics his whole life is still this thing That some hate. But people loved him; they loved him that hard— Screaming, ugly crying hard. I think in that moment you know someone was like “he must be stopped!” And it seems like yesterday was a year ago But I don't want let anybody know… Cause everybody wants something from me now— And I don't want to let them down. My life is over. New York City looks so small from the top of a skyscraper. What are you doing. Then again— my thoughts lately have been grandiose. Back market, eh? What's this for? You need a burner. I have three. Here, have another. For someone whose supposed to be entirely off grid, I'm admirably reachable. Clever vocabulary. Something has to be clever about me, doesn't it? Does it? It must be. Or else. [both men are speaking casually over the delicate process of loading rare guns; some of which appear to be antique, and some—almost even unearthly , as if from somewhere besides our own planet. But, you could say what planet this is at all, actually— this bunker, with no windows and no doors, is apparently hidden in a subterranean layer— the location, unknown. The men seem calm but also quite tired and weary, and seem to know each other well. We can assume they've probably been friends for years. Sickle cell anemia. Does that mean I'm going to die. Animus, I quite like whatever that is, Google. ;) don't mention it. Honestly, you might as well. What. I can't help you with this. What. I don't think there's anyone who can. Beg your pardon. Please, don't beg— but uh… [the doctor pats his patient on the shoulder] Do take care. Gee, doc! I'll try! You should do that. What. Try. The doctor leaves seemingly in some kind of hurry, trading his lab coat for a trench coat and closing the door behind him. The other man pauses for a second in the silence of the weird linoleum room, then ponders on the coat for a moment before walking up to the coat rack, putting on the coat, and then walking out the door himself; as he begins to shut the door, he quickly decides also to take the fedora that was sitting atop the coat rack, placing it on his head before he walks out the door himself, shutting it behind him quietly. You got anything to eat in here? Cereal…some rabbit food ina the drawers, there. Oh, you have salad. That sounds nice. No, rabbit food. [the man presents a large bag of weird brown dry food from the crisper drawer.] …pellets. For the rabbits. How do rabbits get in here? …I don't know. And— more importantly— where did you get rabbit food for them? If I told you Amazon, would you believe me? The man just winces and places the bag back into the crisper drawer. Now listen, I um— If you want cereal, the milk is powedred… I don't— and that's disgusting— but listen— [the man cocks a loaded gun and admires it intensively] (Dismissively) —I'm listening. I've been meaning to tell you something. Tell me what. It's important. Oh, You couldn't have used one of my four phones. Look, it's— You know I wasn't expecting company. Well— You should sit down. The man squints, beginning to listen more attentively. … …really. I'm holding a loaded gun; there are at least three more within arms reach if I do sit, you know. I know. But I should sit? One baby to another says, “I'm lucky to've met you.” Maybe you should. Not all my bad but all my might, And all my mind, The fire, The light. …business or personal. [beat] Both. {Enter The Multiverse} What are we watching?! Shhhhhh! Shut up. What is this? Some.. Sshhh. Shit, I don't know. Sit down. You don't know. SHH it just came on Shh. Ok. When? Uh… (Nobody really seems to know how long it's been. The show just happened to come on; no one remembers how, or why— or even when— But the show is intense as it gets; And it just keeps getting weirder and deeper.) {Enter The Multiverse} I'm transfixed on your soul And it seems I aspire To what has transpired here, Your unremarked and the umpire The spider veins and the way it washes. And watches and waves, and waters over you, And still I seem to think you've won another, Strum to thumb of you. And still I wake to gather here The odds and whats And the twists and turns and the Troublesome you've number some Or stuttered, stumbled conciousness. And withered branches Aces lie and house of cards And aging scoundrels— There you are, the..: Nevermind. Don't belittle my ways if, In the end my thinking may be correct As dumbfounded as I have shifted my lottery bonds tied to none, There ye are again who aren't I, And never were, And weathered now, as I, bound to Struggle under her might, Nothing I was, and nothing I am And nothing I came from but to barter Oh hard love, I only found my kings upon thrown As cast out of another by her likeness, Peace and pale and primed as it was, And wanted for love, As I was not— And then, the gates had opened And I, preaching withered, Gathered my arts and my minds And my eyes, and my thrones, Buried my ark and though not my bones The shallow waking peaks of pride And there you gathered, all as huddled sheep to mine, The cost of war, but certain therefore honored as I have, Happened went, came and untied, shattered Hating all I am and all my dark and all my eyes and all my brown Because you came and went, a baby born to as nothing was but beauty and yet having been gifted such life, Departed! Soon, I wake shattered and with none as it had began, in my time and in time there laid there none, But fortune seeks to favor, as ye are saying brave and yet I neither beg nor make to differ, Shall you come again in part, And in this time as shadows, as shadows As hating and wearing and waging, And shattered I, I pardon, Knowing not they seeking I, And I having none at all but one, As forgotten I shall came And went And followed this, The time y'i call now, And ours and ours, And yours and yours, And mine and mine, Though as one are also, Common not, And waking yet to find, These things making have gone into yer Another of ours, world, Another of our dozens, Shines, Another of our gathered, wit, and waking Though true to fortune, none us have gathered And have embarked to truth, The waking I have come, Another, and another, and another Departed. And yet, I bury my words having weakened to that which is this, Ye have no fear and lest no fortune in these words, For having I to come and gone, since they times In words to make this a language I or neither other Does not speak here, and almost never, And this yours time past, Has come and gone And come and gone And come and gone again, So long so I too have parted but not yet Unfolded as does my nature, As God does. Belittle this, you waking fools, As to this you pity though divine, Is unlike any other And steep remarked in gold and with chimes and words That ye here no often or either now, or in mine speak. Amen …can I go now? You are dismissed. C'cxell Soleïl, aka DJ Ū is an American DJ + Producer, Multi-Instrumentalist, Playwright, Poet, Comedian, Novelist & Filmmaker. She is best known for her unique vocal riffs, Clever Lyricism & Philanthropically Inspired Freestyles and her flagship venture [The Festival Project.™] [Ï A M B ī C], a freestyle studio mixtape recorded in Los Angeles, (Official Release: TBD) inspired the adaptation of a staged musical version for Broadway, and a concurrent multimedia (TV/Film) series and ongoing saga as part of The Festival Project ™ Brand. Inspired musically by an ‘Ultra American' experience of Racially, Binary Ambiguity, and Synesthetic Exploration, her reflective melodies signature sound provides a philosophical dissection of American culture through a careful and inquisitive mastery of the English language, and emergence of world sounds through music brings about ‘A New Era in Nature', and clarifies the establishment of the newest wave in human evolution: Unity Through Music. L E G E N D S What if I just want to be alone in the dark Alone in the dark Alone in the dark Bones Duggar was a long, handsome zombie Bones once was a very tall man Not great and tall, as he stands But average, Grand as it were, his status. Everything's black My heart My pants My home My mind Everything hurts But you don't understand that Like I can Calm the commercial holidays for a moment Who gets the card? Get our your hard earned My head hurts Slam the door man; You can't control thoughts With a wombat Murderer Now that's a hard concept to catch When you haven't a soul When you haven't a card Or a car Or a cat I think I'm vanilla. I always thought of myself as a super kink Like a freaky, freaky bitch. So I got on this app. This app is better then Tinder. Yes. But it is not for the faint of heart. No, sir. They have a test, I'm like “ooh, I like tests” So I take the test. The test was not at all… As I'd hoped. First of all, It was hard. It was not a quiz; It was a TEST And I failed. I realized “Oh my god, I don't like any of this stuff” I am not about that! No! Yuck! Gross. “I think I might be vanilla.” I might be vanilla. I want my hair pulled back like a leash And my arms tied up Like I'm being arrested Without being read my rights. — I want your hands on the back of my neck [breathe] Reach around to my Mortimer's apple Put the lights out, Adam. I want the lights cut off. I want the bills piled up so the phone don't work I want the habit back on Don't talk to nobody I told you, I'm coming No, God! That's dumb! Show me why I'm off all alone with a rattle so bad It's just segmented thoughts, colors and sounds I can't make with all the plugins in the kindgdom of chaos?! I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES— I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES —but the one who could love me is God, And I guess he's not coming. The denial turns to tears, Not songs no more My womb is empty And the sun has turned into Not what I wanted But not my fault We got caught in the land of Cutting costs And processed morsels At 400 pounds And that's where I found What I thought was love But it turns out That it just turns up In the whole form of a person And that's why I got the collar, caller But really I'm no one's lover So I Do what I want I don't hang up on God But he don't got a body And I need someone to love/ Fuck me Please God Don't turn the lights off I'll pull the clock back Just like foreskin, god i want your skin Draped over mine in a warm swath Probably run a hot back Cause the next stop is a closet The line doesn't really move for the Doesn'tMatterhorn. some people are starting to doubt if it's even a ride. Others just admire it for its eloquence as a metaphor. Johnny! You scared me! Aha. Where did you go?! Nowhere— fast! Alright well— Money when you know I have it But I haven't really Paid attention to the never ending Digits never coming in but Simply, there's a secret, Sonny Someday you'll get lessons, honey. Much to find and much to serve and Surf us up Piñata's bout the burst But here comes Vesuvius (POW) Everyone was gone in an instant (Vapor) Had a good laugh that night in the pantheon; Everything's past, and the mortals They kept on running But i didn't want go, God Putting on a show then I blow up Just like the mountain Found her Now I got a broke back husband (hope so) To tell, don't ask Don't show up if you just get lost But I'm probably in the back with a bottle back mountain Now you got a real horse pack. Trip Girl keep camping What was the map with the mask and the Fashion? Pass. I put sugar on the rim of the glass With my eyes half closed And my ass clenched fast shut I'm an alcoholic Don't involve the God I got lost in the mall with the —- UGHHHHHHHH! Hello. Uh, yes— hi. what up. Mirror mirror. Uh…nothing. You're lost? No. You look lost. Oh? Disgruntled. I am that. You're lost? I'm not lost. My friend is lost. His phone is dead. You lost each other. Sort of. Continuity conniption I nipped an eclipse And he picked his nose For a full ass minute Sitting at the stop sign That's a gobstopper's worth in our time Pull all the clocks back, Pull the fool over, You just got fined It was Friday for nothing I was in the hatchback, Scratch that Sour patch Should have called Pat back Now I'm just a Cool 48 in the ring with a date And the cashapp Continuity construction I want a husband! Fuck that. I want a clean cut plus one Since I can't have Helmet, Elmo, Or Hatchetman; Tears of a Clow…no, Wait I lost focus Half finished album Got 6 tracks But I knew it was 12 from the get go Prob‘ly should have knocked off the showrunner; Nah, I'm sure I had that coming Hashtag, undon Could have been you, too If the cash came through Now it's hard times Hardwired Sitting on a hi wire, Little white liar, liar Wait I made Katey Sagal (Fire) Cut off her hair (Fire) Went to the hall of fame with the framed sunglasses Asked for her autograf, But she walked off So I shot her with a bottle/ can, But she ducked, popped back up With the brass knuckles Surfboard Good for a chuckle and a fuck So I asked for her number All that on a Sunday at Gelson's market. Christ, almighty I miss Walmart, I hit hard times. So many places to run, But not many places to hide I think I want to die here I think i want to die. City of corruption… Lay it out and lay it over City of corruption… no, it's not a choice It's a black tie function Right in that very moment Seth Meyers kind of became my defacto personal hero. “Never meet your heroes” Or perhaps it was just his writing team, or the fact that maybe even without there even being anything set in stone or solid at all, [redacted] itself seemed to have a price over my head– It all seemed to make sense; in fact, all the crazy things i was experiencing made more sense than it didn't. But after what felt something like between defeat and maybe even one day really getting justice for all the things that had happened to me in new york– it was that, at best; That without actually meaning it, by all probability, the opening monologue described what in perfect sense the thing that had been happening to me: hundreds of motorcycles and cars riding around in circles for over a year, any time i tried to work or sleep–and then, when I finally tried to reach out to find an attorney that would help, I was made to feel crazy for it. In a way, it was the perfect indication that it had all been some sort of sick game, and that I was more right than wrong, and being set up to appear, sound, or look crazy–but I wasn't. I had been under attack for nearly two years, and when I tried to reach out, my heart raced and my voice cracked, and I sounded crazy and desperate–but what was happening was very real; and now I knew where I was. As it turns out, New York's corruption was more common knowledge to everyone else before it was to me: New York was a common place for fucked up, dirty, low-down mind games: and this was my lesson in that. Seth Meyers in reality had nothing to do with it–and really I only meant to watch Kimmel over my afternoon tacos. But still, though it hadn't entirely anything to do with me, the opening statements rang true to exactly what I had experienced; I was made to lose my mind, only to have everyone around me tell me it was something wrong with me–but it wasn't. Something was wrong with the city, and the building management, and the people around who were making it all to be some kind of mental disorder or problems with my mind–in reality, it was 2 years of being in the center of a speedway, and all the time i'd lost because of it adding to the stress, and the angst, and the depression that resulted. Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Does anyone else smell blood I hate wedding days suits and tuxedos No, I don't know you I'm just here to sound the hundred drums Of the once before us (The ones to come) Then, there we were and I didn't want to admit Again, I was caught into the ghost of the rapture Or the holy hour, No aux chord Show the holy one Just how old you are On these sacr d lands and a holy grounds Now I want here half an ounce to smoke And there were drowning orchestras in all of the hearts And all of the markets, The market the marker And all of the sins of the savior The maytyr Did you remember not to notice not to know him Were you sure with words you were for nickelodeaon! I was supposed to hold on to, Supposed to hold on to Suddenly, it's summer. And always our own are under the weather There was no other wise man the wind. Lee the one came The site came and went and then the songs went left The songs went left; Again, the songs went left Did you win at wintergreen Well, God, I didn't know gym was a game. I didn't know guns we're just portals to worlds unknownn I didn't know gossip was golden What all else didn't I know It wasn't for here! It was fourth flour And in the final hour of the battle I commenced to summon All the gods and all the lords and all the flowers All the worlds of oceans and the Remember, this The remembrance It may not matter to some, What matters to most But until summer comes, I'm still up under the rail And practically it's spring, for the next two weeks I'm all berries and cream and whatever you wanted. Tormaline, emerald and onyx, the fox said And fox says its west when instead it's quite under what of the reporter's offer? Comes down a little to none What of the offer Comes down from a billion to one A billion to one I'm on TV so it's really just a one way screen Either way, I don't think he likes me much I don't think he likes me much I'd rather die than to fall in love even one more time And to keep on just never being loved Never beingbloved {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

“Look what they eye unearthed,” leaning into the tip of my ear with the warmth and closeness of the coming waves, high tide approaching in the waning moon. “More secrets.” I replied. It was a question but also a statement— there was never such as this the luminescent trace of the glowing lava that was his force and might that I could not see for miles before he would even wander— first in twinkling stars and then later the wind itself and the birds, and then beneath the waves, like the quaking shake of a mighty oak anchored elsewhere and tied to the sea. “So you know.” I was hoping he would kill me before the next time I had to ever really know anything. He was the subject, and the predicate The wrong done, and the justice She was the pride and the prejudice But Judas brings the law Did you look in the box? No, I– [The Box Is The Box] –No, I haven't. Nearly three nights ago, a mysterious box arrived on the doorstep of an equally mysterious writer, who spends their time in isolation due to the often unannounced arrival of various ghosts, spirits, time travelers, and other figures by instant teleportation and other magical forms of transportation into their shabby New York apartment. Some of ya'll got so many air wick plug ins and scentci wax melts you don't know you smell like booboo. It's an illusion. You leave your house, You smell like booboo. I promise. Oh, God, I think I need a drink. Are you alright? Let me just–sit down for a second. Of course. My God. What's wrong. Look, i'm not supposed to say anything about this but. What's wrong? It's nothing, I'm just–I'm in a song. …what? A song! Is that all?! You don't understand. It's not a normal kind of song. It's– [takes a puff of inhaler] You wouldn't understand. Well what's so wrong about being in a song? Its not – a regular song–and it's not [gasping] finished! I still kind of wanted to be a comedian–but I knew I wasn't funny in the way that made sense to keep going and stand up there. I was still writing comedy, but I didn't know how to take myself out of it–the truth was, I was in a lot of pain. A lot of emotional pain that was becoming physical–and I didn't know what to do about it to break the barrier of nervousness and blank slate state of feeling the audience's perceptions of me more overwhelmingly than ever feeling myself. look at this song. I know huh. It's purple. Every time. It is purple. And what is that. Like a muted trombone? IS THAT A TROMBONE? Or a tuba? No, it has to be a trombone…becasue you can hear it slide– And that's what that sound is. What a sneaky rabbit. Super sneaky rabbit. So if i can see all this, I'm almost certainly sure the motorcycles outside and the slamming doors are meant to murder me. I'm sure that's what it is. You ever notice how being broke in New York makes you a bad person? Like, if you're broke, you're just automatically shitty. I never meant to be in New York broke. I never meant to be in New York, But I certainly never meant to be here and be poor, Poor in New York? Automatically a shitty person. Despite how you act. You can be a rich piece of shit— But the status is automatically “You got dough? Oh, alright. Carry on” That's the attitude in New York City. Crap people get by cause they got their hands on some money and the rules in New York say it doesn't really matter how you come by it, As long as you come by it. There's no real rules or real laws to it— Just “Get the money” Well god damn. This makes me nervous. I'm an artist. I've tried everything. I didn't mean to be the automatic enemy here. Of course not. But New York is a terrifying place to me, now, Cause I realized I can be a very sweet, very humble, very honest person— And that kind of shit doesn't matter here, really. It brings you no respect to be decent. It's about the money. So I'm a musician— which in New York also makes me like, Automatically not special, And I'm trying to just be a musician, and so naturally, I'm broke. Like broke in half. Like all my bills are late. But music is my solace. So I'm listening to music, And I'm listening to a song that is so beautiful, that I start to cry. The first time I heard it, it made me cry And I'm listening to it over, and it made me cry And it's so beautiful, and God is so beautiful And look at what God did, So I'm crying, And I don't even know what it is about the beauty of it that's making me cry, But it's making me cry, And New York hears me crying And New York goes “I'll give you something to cry about” And I open my email And there's a bill from my landlord reminding me how often I'm talked about due to my late payments— And I'm realizing I've been here two years and I still don't have any money, Even though I've been trying and trying And trying So now I'm crying for other reasons. Thanks a lot, New York. “I'll give you something to cry about” So I did. If there's anything worse than being black in a city that hates blacks— It's being broke in a city that hates broke people. So I haven't spent any money in awhile. Not even on little things, or things I need. I just stay inside, and work, and think And try and really try To figure out how to make money Without having any, or spending any. Cause you can have it, and spend it, but it's always a gamble. Maybe all I needed was a good cry. But now it's not for the right reasons I'm not crying cause something is so beautiful and look at what God did I'm crying because of what I'm sure is just the devil I'm crying for the wrong things Not because of something that's so very beautiful But because of something that's so very ugly With just a wave of the hand And the flick of each finger as it rolls into a crisp closed palm, A flick of birds fell to the ground, bursting with caws Below his stance, and in a flutter of feathers and wings, The evil master, unmoved and untouched, Untouchable in his weight and glory, simply only even mildly and barely smirks at all. He has defeated all and still somehow, not won. Some say it's sure to come, the thing that wants and gathers ties; Some say surely it is yet but withered and then sure again will come It has, five times, and barely waded, Waking in the midsts of my pure eye, The morning light and fog, aye? Ye, they remembers none but our Art, And I'm bound as sure by wing and force Is you to dozens of masses, And ships having sailed but one, Which I have flourished and kept And stocked with these, the masses And yea having spade, and having friends And having honor, there was none past kept and mine, sured; And wicked may as wicked be but evil none truer thou nones't had yet pured, and muted and gathered, I have, And woken and laid and barren and truths do'st tied, And there have been shooken and wait, And m faire'd and barred here, and hereforth My duty it is to forward, forward, my shallows For my shadow, For my golden hour has shined and now you, These caged shall fly, And these thoughts shall sing, And these hour conspired to miss my time daily, And these things, beytraying that— There have no times at all, These walls in holy temples kept, swaying and cadences, and wearing, and weary, And foreign and ayered, aye— and armored. And he, you, does not wish to know but also has known— and does not wish to see, but he, too has blinded, and does not wish to betray, and yet has been crowned, made with guilt and also Shattered, as it was, And shatters, as it came, the wave o'er all us and tide sinking under, and caves and rebels and heart laid bare to surf not suffer, Nor cap nor keeping, nor tied nor honor, No, honor her; No honor came and I have tied also, this tie to mine, and another, and another and another Now forward. Forward! Forward! Damn, Conan's monologues he going deep. Yeah, I guess. He's fine, right? Look, you don't need this. Just promise me. I am sorry. Mr Jimmy has it good, too good Little sister doesn't have a heart. But didn't know it Mister music made it in the industry, too hat Mister rager had a sip at dinner It was all dramatic Stars went falling Crashing down and All it is Ms. Martha Is mismanagement of energy All it is, Ms. Margret is a magnet And it hasn't happened badly since I had a handle on it But I still get sick of madness And I still get sick with city sickness Still, forget the dancer I was sitting on the show, In the audience With my mother, Oh the models, Dozens of them Blondes and ballet buns, the brunettes I was just a lost cause And I wanted it all, the tux and the bow tie I wanted you gone so I looked at it harder Until It became nothing but Clouds in the sky You were stardust I'm a comet Here comes crashing, Had to find the progress report Then I lost it Soggy in the sideways rain It was days and days Do you promise? That's a concept? Do you promise God will be alright, Cause I came running Sent them under cover Sent the men a message Send the man a hammer Sitting in a hammock No one homes the hostile If you don't have anything nice to say Then don't say anything at all And certainly don't come and go As often as you want to It's a game of control; you know The whites, when they still want to own you Somehow I'm all sub so honest, I just—wanted that But only for a man and never bow to another woman Even if on my honor I found us as equals And no one walks the earth as calmly As someone whose never had their lights out Or had their light put out Or their lights turned off Who are God now? Who's our God, man? Who's our God, Math. That's heavy weight, And if you want a biblical fate This is Fallon, And if you watch what you ate You cut calories And if you want the girl back Give it Californian And I'm not towrth much more Than the project housing, Or a handful of candy corn, Conan— But I phone in Oscars, Still no nuts for the rabbit, And if you wanted the bunker back— You can have it. I'm all hands down in a game of poker Heaven doesn't want it Gotta get drunk not once, but at all the goalposts, Gotta count one, not two, the show hosts Too few car parts Wicked, mazes, starfold, gazes Wishes, Martyred. (But pronounced mar-tired} V.O I think about jay Leno a lot. Lately, anyway. I don't know why. I like all the hosts. Somebody. Tell me why Dillon Francis looks like JD Vance. I think he's a clone. Tel me why I know who JD Vance is. They're clones. Tell me why. Back to the future here and now So. Where do you want to go? Anywhere but here. Anywhere but here is kind of far, are you sure you're up for it? Good one, doc Though head of the alumni chapter of the cult-within a cult—to which each African American cast member of Saturday night live is automatically inducted into— EDDIE MURPHY refuses to participate in the group's latest and most complicated ritual. Delivery. Uh, I didn't order any— Breadsticks. What. Breadsticks. I didn't order any— Just— The delivery man hands over the breadsticks. —take them. Oh…Kay. See ya. The delivery man reaches in and shuts the door himself. Uh… Lol is this the one where the mysterious breadsticks are delivered without ever being ordered, and then they end up being the best breadsticks in the world, but they don't know where they came from? Yes. I think so. Lol I bought a planner because so much I loved Joan Rivers, and I planned to fill it with all the places I should go— because keeping anything digital online was not only not working as far as remembering places I wanted or needed to be be, but it was dangerous, also. I was already being tracked, and I couldn't afford a new phone just yet. Eventually, but for now I was stuck to the same signal— which meant the same traces and the same trackers they had been limiting my under-the-radar mystique. As it were, somebody always knew where I was, and it was in the most unpleasant way so far—the only thing I really wandered was what made me so important anyway to begin with. I wasn't actually political in anyway, and still someone seemed to be trying to derail my life… or at least control it, neither of which was beneficial for me in the way that made sense. I wasn't having any fun, nor did I consider living indoors as payment— especially since indoors, there were also paid plants and stalkers, and now that I had begun to more meticulously document the things that were happening, it was easy to separate from delusions. I was actually being followed— but why? Either way, having a detailed. Calendar of places I could go, the ways to get there and even alternate functions within the same grid allowed more control than just staying in my apartment a sitting duck; that's how they were hurting me. They knew where I was— all the time, and it no longer made sense to fight it and try to make music under this kind of insane irritation; the music I was making wasn't the kind I wanted anyway, and whatever war they were fighting with m stark white girls motorcycles was simply not my war. I didn't have a war, and so there wasn't a fight, and so at the very least if I were going to be fucked with, it would have to be in public; that way I had more control to steer whatever was happening in my favor and collect the energy as mine instead of lost. I wasn't an insane person— but what had been happening at my apartment was insane, and so I left it with the understanding that these people worked and operated on a level of violence and ignorance I would never be able to comprehend; they were simply tools for the devil, which in any case, was always the lesser than God. However— because I was starting to figure out who I was, and that I had some sort of power, I knew that I was going to be attacked— because it seemed my power had at the very least not been figured out as to some kind of way to make somebody else money. I had been studying Michael Jackson and this was a key indication that the way his talent priovided a power which would be used as a service, he was very successful. His talent and training alone wouldn't have reapresented with such great reverence the ability to capture a global audience as such— but it was this power, almost as if it had been bottled up and altered, rebranded and sold and labeled with something everyone could not only love and understand, but by the hand of the media and its conglomerates, be hypnotized to worship, and this power simply put would not have been exactly what it was were it not for the eye of the media remaining in complete control of its distribution to the eyes and ears of the public. This thing which might have been the first of its kind but certainly not the last was in a sense model for modern superstardom— the live concert business had not sense much changed but built upon this super powered control of the masses by assimilation, spectacle, and of course the magic and illusion. But, and it it just so happened to perfectly brush up against my studies in esoteric knowledge that I happened to rub up against this— although nothing was of course by mere circumstance anymore, because whether or not I remained incognito was a wash, and I was being looked at by someone no matter what on the internet I did, or where I decided to go and in that sense was being fed these things, and yet with some Grace of God was allowed with it to be aligned with my own higher purpose in a way, I could observe that Michael Jackson was not in fact of course certainly just a dancer or singer or remarkable performer— he was truly a magician, and I was able to clearly recognize this language with with the energy that had used his vehicle for such a projection was speaking— not only this, I was able to clearly count out the markings and sigils and signs and symbols Michael was making in his movement; ancient arts, and magical symbols, traced so rapidly that it almost created a heat signature in a sense of the symbols that were being dictated, unknowing to the untrained eye. For the most part, I could only really assume that this is why these people were losing their minds— in his movements, Michael Jackson was literally carving ancient callings, glyphs and sigils I had so recently read about in magical studies that it was impossible not to laugh. This was in every sense of the word, ‘magic' but not in the normal way one assumes to be something unexplainable. Michael Jackson was casting spells to thousands of people at a time, in front of cameras and at high volume vibration, often times even implementing the use of light, color, and fire. These were not simple gatherings in mass for entertainment purposes— these were rituals, and in the modern day, still were or are— but I had noticed in a quick glimpse, from Michael Jackson 30 some odd years ago to Lady Gaga just having passed something like a week ago to an audience of the same size— that something was kind of wrong, now. The people had changed, and the specable had been done over and over, and the brainwashing of the masses had in a sense been almost complete— and so It wasn't some sense of confusion or unknowing the things that were happening to me in my own life and my own world— I too, was capable of these things, at that capacity, and had simply not been trained in the same sense of the ideal superstar, however— the things that were happening in my own life and in my own world were not difficult to grasp or understand— when one comes upon a power as such, it finds means to seek to control it and harness it for his own use and purposes. Perhaps it was the simple fact that in this way, in the way I get the dream had gone and the spectacle had been played out of the masses and the illusion was no longer as such— that the actual knowledge of distinct ancient wisdom that had been Michael Jackson's natural ability was distinguishable from that of Lady Gaga's training in the same formula, and that one did not equal the other, but in terms of business could equal to that as such as the masses had been manipulated to seek solace in these same things— and it was not illusion or grandiosity that I, even in my agingness, was still capable of these things; I had no doubt in my mind that I could sing and dance for two hours to audiences of hundreds of thousands— but this was not the question for the business or the media— the question was, would hundreds of thousands pay to see me, or rather— who was willing to front the means to hypnotize hundreds of people to become aware of me so that they would do such a thing. My talent and capabilities were undeniable— but my markatability might have been in question, because it was no longer simply a matter or chance or luck: the people chosen to figure such spectacle were chosen, hand selected and well trained to become media conglomerate superstars, even regardless of talent; perhaps this itself was the key indication that the world of the superstar itself had come to an end—it was no longer so much of a spectacle was worth it. Or, perhaps, because money had come between these ancient arts and symbols and languages being spoken by the superstars of old, that the magic in the literal sense had gone all the way away. The symbolism in the art had died, and so the singing and the dancing remained, but the God had gone out of it. Maybe that was the difference. The superstars of today were just the shell of the model that had been built on God, but the Godsense of it was no longer there— and so the magic no longer remained in effect, as the powers of magic that be are in all ancient arts and texts and forms attributive to The Source. Either way, I wasn't going to continue to be a sitting duck in my apartment in Brooklyn— there were too many indications that it had all been a setup from the shelter to the day I moved in, with the motorcycles and cars and CBS studios one block away. So the real and only question was, what exactly had been played at and who exactly was pulling the strings? I might at this point become a loose cannon: my son was estranged and as far as the people were concerned, I mostly hated New York— because the refined, clean cut and classy people I liked and wanted to be around saw me as the dirt and the grime I was fighting my way through just to simply exist— in my mind, this was a world that could be no more. I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress Keep writing I never thought I ‘d see the day Where i's taking lessons on Fallon From Michael Jackson That's ran That's a fan This is fame I'm insane I'm insane That's a fan Light the flame That's a fan. That's a fan. I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I went up the rack, set the page on fire Nordstrom rack And I might take it back for the cash I like Sara in a dress Stay repressed Keep it dark If you kiss don't tell I will probably go to hell for just writing Try it In black ink, I got all spades, Ehy, Spare me the ridicule, the imbecile and I met Johnny in a cage I like Fallon in a dress, Obsessive, I'm dressed out Every day I leave where I do not live Where stalker crawl and haunt me Just to show the motorcycles Have desheveled my intelligence into Nothing And so with negligence, I leave the core of a rotting apple The foreign words of a doctor And You must call the king, says something far off But I wonder which one I wonder which one I so respect her honor That I no longer Follow my heart or my soul And I don't shallow But shatter to swallow So I let the sparrow Out of the cage I bought Sara A pair of pants And I haunt l Patrick Kirkpatrick in patches And haven't you read yet You're ready for forget the pageant? It hasn't happened yet! I love Sara in a dress I hate Fallon and his wife Keep the kids out if it Skull and crossbones Cross my heart and Really hope to the loveless Or else Someone might call my phone back It's on silent in my coffin Or wait— It's on vibrate. I'm obsessed with the way You're dressed And the name on your checks I guess I'm better for it I'll skip lunch if you think that's what's best And dinner, too If you deserve the best Then better have learned my lesson No sweat And to do, With you, Was then, Dinner through next supper All the love I had was Rubbed into something other than The glass I patted dry With microfiber With ever fiber of my being I want to be with you I should have just— Died, And then Did, and so next Life, Remind me not to Fall for it If i really wanted to know you,I would know you by now– If i wanted to have you? I would have had you already Nobody is a dancer after Michael Jackson. I just watched some shit that was like “What the fuck did I just see” The whole thing was just not right. It was-/ I was like First of all, it's Munich, 1997. I never really realized how terribly the world has changed; No cellphones, but the audience is lit, And the crazy thing is, you can tell that this is near the turn of the century because, when the camera is panning by the audience in the people, they're not looking directly into the camera or waving at the camera— not really. And clearly this is an all ages show, so there's children, so the interesting thing I'm finding out is that nobody's trained to look at the camera and wave and smile— except the babies on shoulders and shit. These kids— they're my age now, are the only ones that see the camera, and they look directly into the shit. Mi still can't do that, really— I'm theatrically trained. Haha If I see a camera, I try to act ‘natural' It's the weirdest thing to look at a camera and just start to work it. People at festivals now, the camera rolls by, Or the drone flies in, And they look deadass in the camera and start to work it. Not at this show. Munich 1997, I'm like “Damn, a lot of things is wrong with this” First of all, I love Michael Jackson, I look directly at this man, and I'm in my dirty peak so I have an instant— like a sex detector thing going on And I know people gave Michael a hard time when he was a live for being fruity and whatever But I'm looking at this dude, and I don't see fruit at all. I see 100% man. I see why people were mad at him. Cause I'm looking at this dude, 100% All I see is carnal, primal man. I'm like, “Yo, I see why they was mad at him” Because the camera kept panning to the audience And these people are losing their minds. They are coming out of themselves. They are UGLY CRYING, full out of body, Losing composure They don't know what to do. That's Michael Jackson. He's right there! And the place is huge so really besides these few hundreds of people in the front, Michael's just a speck, But he's working this audience like “Yo, you know who I am, I know who is me” And I'm realizing, that to these people That's their god. These girls are losing their minds m “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!l *crying inconsolably* Just UGLY crying Bitch, get it together . You all the way lost yourself Get. It together. She won't. This bitch. I can't get over this This one girl, They just keep going back to her Cause the whole show— And this is like 2 hours of pure non stop Michael Jackson, This girl, every time you see her, she's just ugly crying— And every time you see her Her cry is uglier and ugly I'm like “Damn bitch” “Daaaaaaang” So this is the first thing I see that is wrong. But there's a lot of things wrong here, Cause there's a lot of girls like this. There's just— hundreds of girls losing their minds, like, I've seen Beatles mania and thought that was crazy, Shit, I've even seen some people put out that kind of energy in the modern world for some dumb DJ's— That's their god— But THIS THIS Michael Jackson mania was mental illness That was hard to watch. That was people just Lost control. I'm thinking “Like goddamn. You— what?!” “AAagghhhhhhgahahahahahqhahahhahaha MICHAELl “These people are sick” But they are. And so is Michael Fame has gone too far, 1997; 12 short years before he died, by chance— So this is what I see, And then Michael starts dancing, And this— This is what I see; I see the only thing that can ever be what it was in that moment in time, as God being God: Michael Jackson. Shiny ass motherfucker, And so I'm watching this show, And all I see is a God being a man being a God being— Michael Jackson— And the whole thing is weird. But the worst part— Yes The worst part Was when, about mid show, Michael goes to do one of his slow, lovey doves songs, And like, this 6 foot 7 type body guard guy, Just pops up out of nowhere, Comes dead front and center to one of these little girls losing their minds, Runs up on her in an instant; You don't even have time to think— And just SNATCHES her— Snatches the bitch— “Ah!” then throws her up on stage with Michael— And he's still singing; this is his game, this is part of the show, he knows— But she doesn't know, And she's just lost her mind, She won't let go She's hugging and kissing on the dude, She's lost her mind, She's ugly crying She's on the floor, She's kissing his hand She's really lost her good goddamn mind— And they pan out to the audience, And all the girls that didn't get picked Are like WHY NOT MEEEEEEEREEEEE?!? THE UGLY CRIES ARE EVEN UGLIER NOW, They're like “Wh—what?” You don't know?! “WHY NOT ME” They're holding each other crying, Michael's just doing his thing, He's unphased, He's trying to play along; He's a professional like a motherfucker; He's just— keeps singing And this girl is just, Losing it, so at this point, it's weird, She's crazy batshit lost her mind all the way, Won't let go of Michael, kissing his face while he's singing, He's kind of unreceptive to it, now just looking out at the audience, almost not even looking at all Just cold as fuck actually, Like she's not there, kissing his face Cold as fuck— And then another bouncer dude— An even bigger one in a blue suit, comes and tears her off of Michael Cause clearly this has gone too far or whatever And I'm thinking “What in the fuck did I just see” Blue suit dude just snatches, Just— He has to tear her off of him! She's kicking and screaming and getting dragged off stage Michael's just: singing. YO. Then they dragged her back stage. Where did she go?! WHO DID SHE BECOME?! WHAT IN THE FUCK DID I JUST SEE?!? WHAT. 1997. You can't do that shit anymore! You cannot snatch bitches like that. I seen. Watch the video. Tell me what's wrong with it. It's disgusting. Not the snatching, Not the— Like, that was weird But the screaming and the crying and the— Like okay, the snatching was bad— But I'm like … ..:: …. Now I see why they was mad. Don't ever forget he was once— A dark skinned little boy, And in his genetics his whole life is still this thing That some hate. But people loved him; they loved him that hard— Screaming, ugly crying hard. I think in that moment you know someone was like “he must be stopped!” And it seems like yesterday was a year ago But I don't want let anybody know… Cause everybody wants something from me now— And I don't want to let them down. My life is over. New York City looks so small from the top of a skyscraper. What are you doing. Then again— my thoughts lately have been grandiose. Back market, eh? What's this for? You need a burner. I have three. Here, have another. For someone whose supposed to be entirely off grid, I'm admirably reachable. Clever vocabulary. Something has to be clever about me, doesn't it? Does it? It must be. Or else. [both men are speaking casually over the delicate process of loading rare guns; some of which appear to be antique, and some—almost even unearthly , as if from somewhere besides our own planet. But, you could say what planet this is at all, actually— this bunker, with no windows and no doors, is apparently hidden in a subterranean layer— the location, unknown. The men seem calm but also quite tired and weary, and seem to know each other well. We can assume they've probably been friends for years. Sickle cell anemia. Does that mean I'm going to die. Animus, I quite like whatever that is, Google. ;) don't mention it. Honestly, you might as well. What. I can't help you with this. What. I don't think there's anyone who can. Beg your pardon. Please, don't beg— but uh… [the doctor pats his patient on the shoulder] Do take care. Gee, doc! I'll try! You should do that. What. Try. The doctor leaves seemingly in some kind of hurry, trading his lab coat for a trench coat and closing the door behind him. The other man pauses for a second in the silence of the weird linoleum room, then ponders on the coat for a moment before walking up to the coat rack, putting on the coat, and then walking out the door himself; as he begins to shut the door, he quickly decides also to take the fedora that was sitting atop the coat rack, placing it on his head before he walks out the door himself, shutting it behind him quietly. You got anything to eat in here? Cereal…some rabbit food ina the drawers, there. Oh, you have salad. That sounds nice. No, rabbit food. [the man presents a large bag of weird brown dry food from the crisper drawer.] …pellets. For the rabbits. How do rabbits get in here? …I don't know. And— more importantly— where did you get rabbit food for them? If I told you Amazon, would you believe me? The man just winces and places the bag back into the crisper drawer. Now listen, I um— If you want cereal, the milk is powedred… I don't— and that's disgusting— but listen— [the man cocks a loaded gun and admires it intensively] (Dismissively) —I'm listening. I've been meaning to tell you something. Tell me what. It's important. Oh, You couldn't have used one of my four phones. Look, it's— You know I wasn't expecting company. Well— You should sit down. The man squints, beginning to listen more attentively. … …really. I'm holding a loaded gun; there are at least three more within arms reach if I do sit, you know. I know. But I should sit? One baby to another says, “I'm lucky to've met you.” Maybe you should. Not all my bad but all my might, And all my mind, The fire, The light. …business or personal. [beat] Both. {Enter The Multiverse} What are we watching?! Shhhhhh! Shut up. What is this? Some.. Sshhh. Shit, I don't know. Sit down. You don't know. SHH it just came on Shh. Ok. When? Uh… (Nobody really seems to know how long it's been. The show just happened to come on; no one remembers how, or why— or even when— But the show is intense as it gets; And it just keeps getting weirder and deeper.) {Enter The Multiverse} I'm transfixed on your soul And it seems I aspire To what has transpired here, Your unremarked and the umpire The spider veins and the way it washes. And watches and waves, and waters over you, And still I seem to think you've won another, Strum to thumb of you. And still I wake to gather here The odds and whats And the twists and turns and the Troublesome you've number some Or stuttered, stumbled conciousness. And withered branches Aces lie and house of cards And aging scoundrels— There you are, the..: Nevermind. Don't belittle my ways if, In the end my thinking may be correct As dumbfounded as I have shifted my lottery bonds tied to none, There ye are again who aren't I, And never were, And weathered now, as I, bound to Struggle under her might, Nothing I was, and nothing I am And nothing I came from but to barter Oh hard love, I only found my kings upon thrown As cast out of another by her likeness, Peace and pale and primed as it was, And wanted for love, As I was not— And then, the gates had opened And I, preaching withered, Gathered my arts and my minds And my eyes, and my thrones, Buried my ark and though not my bones The shallow waking peaks of pride And there you gathered, all as huddled sheep to mine, The cost of war, but certain therefore honored as I have, Happened went, came and untied, shattered Hating all I am and all my dark and all my eyes and all my brown Because you came and went, a baby born to as nothing was but beauty and yet having been gifted such life, Departed! Soon, I wake shattered and with none as it had began, in my time and in time there laid there none, But fortune seeks to favor, as ye are saying brave and yet I neither beg nor make to differ, Shall you come again in part, And in this time as shadows, as shadows As hating and wearing and waging, And shattered I, I pardon, Knowing not they seeking I, And I having none at all but one, As forgotten I shall came And went And followed this, The time y'i call now, And ours and ours, And yours and yours, And mine and mine, Though as one are also, Common not, And waking yet to find, These things making have gone into yer Another of ours, world, Another of our dozens, Shines, Another of our gathered, wit, and waking Though true to fortune, none us have gathered And have embarked to truth, The waking I have come, Another, and another, and another Departed. And yet, I bury my words having weakened to that which is this, Ye have no fear and lest no fortune in these words, For having I to come and gone, since they times In words to make this a language I or neither other Does not speak here, and almost never, And this yours time past, Has come and gone And come and gone And come and gone again, So long so I too have parted but not yet Unfolded as does my nature, As God does. Belittle this, you waking fools, As to this you pity though divine, Is unlike any other And steep remarked in gold and with chimes and words That ye here no often or either now, or in mine speak. Amen …can I go now? You are dismissed. C'cxell Soleïl, aka DJ Ū is an American DJ + Producer, Multi-Instrumentalist, Playwright, Poet, Comedian, Novelist & Filmmaker. She is best known for her unique vocal riffs, Clever Lyricism & Philanthropically Inspired Freestyles and her flagship venture [The Festival Project.™] [Ï A M B ī C], a freestyle studio mixtape recorded in Los Angeles, (Official Release: TBD) inspired the adaptation of a staged musical version for Broadway, and a concurrent multimedia (TV/Film) series and ongoing saga as part of The Festival Project ™ Brand. Inspired musically by an ‘Ultra American' experience of Racially, Binary Ambiguity, and Synesthetic Exploration, her reflective melodies signature sound provides a philosophical dissection of American culture through a careful and inquisitive mastery of the English language, and emergence of world sounds through music brings about ‘A New Era in Nature', and clarifies the establishment of the newest wave in human evolution: Unity Through Music. L E G E N D S What if I just want to be alone in the dark Alone in the dark Alone in the dark Bones Duggar was a long, handsome zombie Bones once was a very tall man Not great and tall, as he stands But average, Grand as it were, his status. Everything's black My heart My pants My home My mind Everything hurts But you don't understand that Like I can Calm the commercial holidays for a moment Who gets the card? Get our your hard earned My head hurts Slam the door man; You can't control thoughts With a wombat Murderer Now that's a hard concept to catch When you haven't a soul When you haven't a card Or a car Or a cat I think I'm vanilla. I always thought of myself as a super kink Like a freaky, freaky bitch. So I got on this app. This app is better then Tinder. Yes. But it is not for the faint of heart. No, sir. They have a test, I'm like “ooh, I like tests” So I take the test. The test was not at all… As I'd hoped. First of all, It was hard. It was not a quiz; It was a TEST And I failed. I realized “Oh my god, I don't like any of this stuff” I am not about that! No! Yuck! Gross. “I think I might be vanilla.” I might be vanilla. I want my hair pulled back like a leash And my arms tied up Like I'm being arrested Without being read my rights. — I want your hands on the back of my neck [breathe] Reach around to my Mortimer's apple Put the lights out, Adam. I want the lights cut off. I want the bills piled up so the phone don't work I want the habit back on Don't talk to nobody I told you, I'm coming No, God! That's dumb! Show me why I'm off all alone with a rattle so bad It's just segmented thoughts, colors and sounds I can't make with all the plugins in the kindgdom of chaos?! I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES— I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES —but the one who could love me is God, And I guess he's not coming. The denial turns to tears, Not songs no more My womb is empty And the sun has turned into Not what I wanted But not my fault We got caught in the land of Cutting costs And processed morsels At 400 pounds And that's where I found What I thought was love But it turns out That it just turns up In the whole form of a person And that's why I got the collar, caller But really I'm no one's lover So I Do what I want I don't hang up on God But he don't got a body And I need someone to love/ Fuck me Please God Don't turn the lights off I'll pull the clock back Just like foreskin, god i want your skin Draped over mine in a warm swath Probably run a hot back Cause the next stop is a closet The line doesn't really move for the Doesn'tMatterhorn. some people are starting to doubt if it's even a ride. Others just admire it for its eloquence as a metaphor. Johnny! You scared me! Aha. Where did you go?! Nowhere— fast! Alright well— Money when you know I have it But I haven't really Paid attention to the never ending Digits never coming in but Simply, there's a secret, Sonny Someday you'll get lessons, honey. Much to find and much to serve and Surf us up Piñata's bout the burst But here comes Vesuvius (POW) Everyone was gone in an instant (Vapor) Had a good laugh that night in the pantheon; Everything's past, and the mortals They kept on running But i didn't want go, God Putting on a show then I blow up Just like the mountain Found her Now I got a broke back husband (hope so) To tell, don't ask Don't show up if you just get lost But I'm probably in the back with a bottle back mountain Now you got a real horse pack. Trip Girl keep camping What was the map with the mask and the Fashion? Pass. I put sugar on the rim of the glass With my eyes half closed And my ass clenched fast shut I'm an alcoholic Don't involve the God I got lost in the mall with the —- UGHHHHHHHH! Hello. Uh, yes— hi. what up. Mirror mirror. Uh…nothing. You're lost? No. You look lost. Oh? Disgruntled. I am that. You're lost? I'm not lost. My friend is lost. His phone is dead. You lost each other. Sort of. Continuity conniption I nipped an eclipse And he picked his nose For a full ass minute Sitting at the stop sign That's a gobstopper's worth in our time Pull all the clocks back, Pull the fool over, You just got fined It was Friday for nothing I was in the hatchback, Scratch that Sour patch Should have called Pat back Now I'm just a Cool 48 in the ring with a date And the cashapp Continuity construction I want a husband! Fuck that. I want a clean cut plus one Since I can't have Helmet, Elmo, Or Hatchetman; Tears of a Clow…no, Wait I lost focus Half finished album Got 6 tracks But I knew it was 12 from the get go Prob‘ly should have knocked off the showrunner; Nah, I'm sure I had that coming Hashtag, undon Could have been you, too If the cash came through Now it's hard times Hardwired Sitting on a hi wire, Little white liar, liar Wait I made Katey Sagal (Fire) Cut off her hair (Fire) Went to the hall of fame with the framed sunglasses Asked for her autograf, But she walked off So I shot her with a bottle/ can, But she ducked, popped back up With the brass knuckles Surfboard Good for a chuckle and a fuck So I asked for her number All that on a Sunday at Gelson's market. Christ, almighty I miss Walmart, I hit hard times. So many places to run, But not many places to hide I think I want to die here I think i want to die. City of corruption… Lay it out and lay it over City of corruption… no, it's not a choice It's a black tie function Right in that very moment Seth Meyers kind of became my defacto personal hero. “Never meet your heroes” Or perhaps it was just his writing team, or the fact that maybe even without there even being anything set in stone or solid at all, [redacted] itself seemed to have a price over my head– It all seemed to make sense; in fact, all the crazy things i was experiencing made more sense than it didn't. But after what felt something like between defeat and maybe even one day really getting justice for all the things that had happened to me in new york– it was that, at best; That without actually meaning it, by all probability, the opening monologue described what in perfect sense the thing that had been happening to me: hundreds of motorcycles and cars riding around in circles for over a year, any time i tried to work or sleep–and then, when I finally tried to reach out to find an attorney that would help, I was made to feel crazy for it. In a way, it was the perfect indication that it had all been some sort of sick game, and that I was more right than wrong, and being set up to appear, sound, or look crazy–but I wasn't. I had been under attack for nearly two years, and when I tried to reach out, my heart raced and my voice cracked, and I sounded crazy and desperate–but what was happening was very real; and now I knew where I was. As it turns out, New York's corruption was more common knowledge to everyone else before it was to me: New York was a common place for fucked up, dirty, low-down mind games: and this was my lesson in that. Seth Meyers in reality had nothing to do with it–and really I only meant to watch Kimmel over my afternoon tacos. But still, though it hadn't entirely anything to do with me, the opening statements rang true to exactly what I had experienced; I was made to lose my mind, only to have everyone around me tell me it was something wrong with me–but it wasn't. Something was wrong with the city, and the building management, and the people around who were making it all to be some kind of mental disorder or problems with my mind–in reality, it was 2 years of being in the center of a speedway, and all the time i'd lost because of it adding to the stress, and the angst, and the depression that resulted. Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Does anyone else smell blood I hate wedding days suits and tuxedos No, I don't know you I'm just here to sound the hundred drums Of the once before us (The ones to come) Then, there we were and I didn't want to admit Again, I was caught into the ghost of the rapture Or the holy hour, No aux chord Show the holy one Just how old you are On these sacr d lands and a holy grounds Now I want here half an ounce to smoke And there were drowning orchestras in all of the hearts And all of the markets, The market the marker And all of the sins of the savior The maytyr Did you remember not to notice not to know him Were you sure with words you were for nickelodeaon! I was supposed to hold on to, Supposed to hold on to Suddenly, it's summer. And always our own are under the weather There was no other wise man the wind. Lee the one came The site came and went and then the songs went left The songs went left; Again, the songs went left Did you win at wintergreen Well, God, I didn't know gym was a game. I didn't know guns we're just portals to worlds unknownn I didn't know gossip was golden What all else didn't I know It wasn't for here! It was fourth flour And in the final hour of the battle I commenced to summon All the gods and all the lords and all the flowers All the worlds of oceans and the Remember, this The remembrance It may not matter to some, What matters to most But until summer comes, I'm still up under the rail And practically it's spring, for the next two weeks I'm all berries and cream and whatever you wanted. Tormaline, emerald and onyx, the fox said And fox says its west when instead it's quite under what of the reporter's offer? Comes down a little to none What of the offer Comes down from a billion to one A billion to one I'm on TV so it's really just a one way screen Either way, I don't think he likes me much I don't think he likes me much I'd rather die than to fall in love even one more time And to keep on just never being loved Never beingbloved {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

“Look what they eye unearthed,” leaning into the tip of my ear with the warmth and closeness of the coming waves, high tide approaching in the waning moon. “More secrets.” I replied. It was a question but also a statement— there was never such as this the luminescent trace of the glowing lava that was his force and might that I could not see for miles before he would even wander— first in twinkling stars and then later the wind itself and the birds, and then beneath the waves, like the quaking shake of a mighty oak anchored elsewhere and tied to the sea. “So you know.” I was hoping he would kill me before the next time I had to ever really know anything. He was the subject, and the predicate The wrong done, and the justice She was the pride and the prejudice But Judas brings the law Did you look in the box? No, I– [The Box Is The Box] –No, I haven't. Nearly three nights ago, a mysterious box arrived on the doorstep of an equally mysterious writer, who spends their time in isolation due to the often unannounced arrival of various ghosts, spirits, time travelers, and other figures by instant teleportation and other magical forms of transportation into their shabby New York apartment. Some of ya'll got so many air wick plug ins and scentci wax melts you don't know you smell like booboo. It's an illusion. You leave your house, You smell like booboo. I promise. Oh, God, I think I need a drink. Are you alright? Let me just–sit down for a second. Of course. My God. What's wrong. Look, i'm not supposed to say anything about this but. What's wrong? It's nothing, I'm just–I'm in a song. …what? A song! Is that all?! You don't understand. It's not a normal kind of song. It's– [takes a puff of inhaler] You wouldn't understand. Well what's so wrong about being in a song? Its not – a regular song–and it's not [gasping] finished! I still kind of wanted to be a comedian–but I knew I wasn't funny in the way that made sense to keep going and stand up there. I was still writing comedy, but I didn't know how to take myself out of it–the truth was, I was in a lot of pain. A lot of emotional pain that was becoming physical–and I didn't know what to do about it to break the barrier of nervousness and blank slate state of feeling the audience's perceptions of me more overwhelmingly than ever feeling myself. look at this song. I know huh. It's purple. Every time. It is purple. And what is that. Like a muted trombone? IS THAT A TROMBONE? Or a tuba? No, it has to be a trombone…becasue you can hear it slide– And that's what that sound is. What a sneaky rabbit. Super sneaky rabbit. So if i can see all this, I'm almost certainly sure the motorcycles outside and the slamming doors are meant to murder me. I'm sure that's what it is. You ever notice how being broke in New York makes you a bad person? Like, if you're broke, you're just automatically shitty. I never meant to be in New York broke. I never meant to be in New York, But I certainly never meant to be here and be poor, Poor in New York? Automatically a shitty person. Despite how you act. You can be a rich piece of shit— But the status is automatically “You got dough? Oh, alright. Carry on” That's the attitude in New York City. Crap people get by cause they got their hands on some money and the rules in New York say it doesn't really matter how you come by it, As long as you come by it. There's no real rules or real laws to it— Just “Get the money” Well god damn. This makes me nervous. I'm an artist. I've tried everything. I didn't mean to be the automatic enemy here. Of course not. But New York is a terrifying place to me, now, Cause I realized I can be a very sweet, very humble, very honest person— And that kind of shit doesn't matter here, really. It brings you no respect to be decent. It's about the money. So I'm a musician— which in New York also makes me like, Automatically not special, And I'm trying to just be a musician, and so naturally, I'm broke. Like broke in half. Like all my bills are late. But music is my solace. So I'm listening to music, And I'm listening to a song that is so beautiful, that I start to cry. The first time I heard it, it made me cry And I'm listening to it over, and it made me cry And it's so beautiful, and God is so beautiful And look at what God did, So I'm crying, And I don't even know what it is about the beauty of it that's making me cry, But it's making me cry, And New York hears me crying And New York goes “I'll give you something to cry about” And I open my email And there's a bill from my landlord reminding me how often I'm talked about due to my late payments— And I'm realizing I've been here two years and I still don't have any money, Even though I've been trying and trying And trying So now I'm crying for other reasons. Thanks a lot, New York. “I'll give you something to cry about” So I did. If there's anything worse than being black in a city that hates blacks— It's being broke in a city that hates broke people. So I haven't spent any money in awhile. Not even on little things, or things I need. I just stay inside, and work, and think And try and really try To figure out how to make money Without having any, or spending any. Cause you can have it, and spend it, but it's always a gamble. Maybe all I needed was a good cry. But now it's not for the right reasons I'm not crying cause something is so beautiful and look at what God did I'm crying because of what I'm sure is just the devil I'm crying for the wrong things Not because of something that's so very beautiful But because of something that's so very ugly With just a wave of the hand And the flick of each finger as it rolls into a crisp closed palm, A flick of birds fell to the ground, bursting with caws Below his stance, and in a flutter of feathers and wings, The evil master, unmoved and untouched, Untouchable in his weight and glory, simply only even mildly and barely smirks at all. He has defeated all and still somehow, not won. Some say it's sure to come, the thing that wants and gathers ties; Some say surely it is yet but withered and then sure again will come It has, five times, and barely waded, Waking in the midsts of my pure eye, The morning light and fog, aye? Ye, they remembers none but our Art, And I'm bound as sure by wing and force Is you to dozens of masses, And ships having sailed but one, Which I have flourished and kept And stocked with these, the masses And yea having spade, and having friends And having honor, there was none past kept and mine, sured; And wicked may as wicked be but evil none truer thou nones't had yet pured, and muted and gathered, I have, And woken and laid and barren and truths do'st tied, And there have been shooken and wait, And m faire'd and barred here, and hereforth My duty it is to forward, forward, my shallows For my shadow, For my golden hour has shined and now you, These caged shall fly, And these thoughts shall sing, And these hour conspired to miss my time daily, And these things, beytraying that— There have no times at all, These walls in holy temples kept, swaying and cadences, and wearing, and weary, And foreign and ayered, aye— and armored. And he, you, does not wish to know but also has known— and does not wish to see, but he, too has blinded, and does not wish to betray, and yet has been crowned, made with guilt and also Shattered, as it was, And shatters, as it came, the wave o'er all us and tide sinking under, and caves and rebels and heart laid bare to surf not suffer, Nor cap nor keeping, nor tied nor honor, No, honor her; No honor came and I have tied also, this tie to mine, and another, and another and another Now forward. Forward! Forward! Damn, Conan's monologues he going deep. Yeah, I guess. He's fine, right? Look, you don't need this. Just promise me. I am sorry. Mr Jimmy has it good, too good Little sister doesn't have a heart. But didn't know it Mister music made it in the industry, too hat Mister rager had a sip at dinner It was all dramatic Stars went falling Crashing down and All it is Ms. Martha Is mismanagement of energy All it is, Ms. Margret is a magnet And it hasn't happened badly since I had a handle on it But I still get sick of madness And I still get sick with city sickness Still, forget the dancer I was sitting on the show, In the audience With my mother, Oh the models, Dozens of them Blondes and ballet buns, the brunettes I was just a lost cause And I wanted it all, the tux and the bow tie I wanted you gone so I looked at it harder Until It became nothing but Clouds in the sky You were stardust I'm a comet Here comes crashing, Had to find the progress report Then I lost it Soggy in the sideways rain It was days and days Do you promise? That's a concept? Do you promise God will be alright, Cause I came running Sent them under cover Sent the men a message Send the man a hammer Sitting in a hammock No one homes the hostile If you don't have anything nice to say Then don't say anything at all And certainly don't come and go As often as you want to It's a game of control; you know The whites, when they still want to own you Somehow I'm all sub so honest, I just—wanted that But only for a man and never bow to another woman Even if on my honor I found us as equals And no one walks the earth as calmly As someone whose never had their lights out Or had their light put out Or their lights turned off Who are God now? Who's our God, man? Who's our God, Math. That's heavy weight, And if you want a biblical fate This is Fallon, And if you watch what you ate You cut calories And if you want the girl back Give it Californian And I'm not towrth much more Than the project housing, Or a handful of candy corn, Conan— But I phone in Oscars, Still no nuts for the rabbit, And if you wanted the bunker back— You can have it. I'm all hands down in a game of poker Heaven doesn't want it Gotta get drunk not once, but at all the goalposts, Gotta count one, not two, the show hosts Too few car parts Wicked, mazes, starfold, gazes Wishes, Martyred. (But pronounced mar-tired} V.O I think about jay Leno a lot. Lately, anyway. I don't know why. I like all the hosts. Somebody. Tell me why Dillon Francis looks like JD Vance. I think he's a clone. Tel me why I know who JD Vance is. They're clones. Tell me why. Back to the future here and now So. Where do you want to go? Anywhere but here. Anywhere but here is kind of far, are you sure you're up for it? Good one, doc Though head of the alumni chapter of the cult-within a cult—to which each African American cast member of Saturday night live is automatically inducted into— EDDIE MURPHY refuses to participate in the group's latest and most complicated ritual. Delivery. Uh, I didn't order any— Breadsticks. What. Breadsticks. I didn't order any— Just— The delivery man hands over the breadsticks. —take them. Oh…Kay. See ya. The delivery man reaches in and shuts the door himself. Uh… Lol is this the one where the mysterious breadsticks are delivered without ever being ordered, and then they end up being the best breadsticks in the world, but they don't know where they came from? Yes. I think so. Lol I bought a planner because so much I loved Joan Rivers, and I planned to fill it with all the places I should go— because keeping anything digital online was not only not working as far as remembering places I wanted or needed to be be, but it was dangerous, also. I was already being tracked, and I couldn't afford a new phone just yet. Eventually, but for now I was stuck to the same signal— which meant the same traces and the same trackers they had been limiting my under-the-radar mystique. As it were, somebody always knew where I was, and it was in the most unpleasant way so far—the only thing I really wandered was what made me so important anyway to begin with. I wasn't actually political in anyway, and still someone seemed to be trying to derail my life… or at least control it, neither of which was beneficial for me in the way that made sense. I wasn't having any fun, nor did I consider living indoors as payment— especially since indoors, there were also paid plants and stalkers, and now that I had begun to more meticulously document the things that were happening, it was easy to separate from delusions. I was actually being followed— but why? Either way, having a detailed. Calendar of places I could go, the ways to get there and even alternate functions within the same grid allowed more control than just staying in my apartment a sitting duck; that's how they were hurting me. They knew where I was— all the time, and it no longer made sense to fight it and try to make music under this kind of insane irritation; the music I was making wasn't the kind I wanted anyway, and whatever war they were fighting with m stark white girls motorcycles was simply not my war. I didn't have a war, and so there wasn't a fight, and so at the very least if I were going to be fucked with, it would have to be in public; that way I had more control to steer whatever was happening in my favor and collect the energy as mine instead of lost. I wasn't an insane person— but what had been happening at my apartment was insane, and so I left it with the understanding that these people worked and operated on a level of violence and ignorance I would never be able to comprehend; they were simply tools for the devil, which in any case, was always the lesser than God. However— because I was starting to figure out who I was, and that I had some sort of power, I knew that I was going to be attacked— because it seemed my power had at the very least not been figured out as to some kind of way to make somebody else money. I had been studying Michael Jackson and this was a key indication that the way his talent priovided a power which would be used as a service, he was very successful. His talent and training alone wouldn't have reapresented with such great reverence the ability to capture a global audience as such— but it was this power, almost as if it had been bottled up and altered, rebranded and sold and labeled with something everyone could not only love and understand, but by the hand of the media and its conglomerates, be hypnotized to worship, and this power simply put would not have been exactly what it was were it not for the eye of the media remaining in complete control of its distribution to the eyes and ears of the public. This thing which might have been the first of its kind but certainly not the last was in a sense model for modern superstardom— the live concert business had not sense much changed but built upon this super powered control of the masses by assimilation, spectacle, and of course the magic and illusion. But, and it it just so happened to perfectly brush up against my studies in esoteric knowledge that I happened to rub up against this— although nothing was of course by mere circumstance anymore, because whether or not I remained incognito was a wash, and I was being looked at by someone no matter what on the internet I did, or where I decided to go and in that sense was being fed these things, and yet with some Grace of God was allowed with it to be aligned with my own higher purpose in a way, I could observe that Michael Jackson was not in fact of course certainly just a dancer or singer or remarkable performer— he was truly a magician, and I was able to clearly recognize this language with with the energy that had used his vehicle for such a projection was speaking— not only this, I was able to clearly count out the markings and sigils and signs and symbols Michael was making in his movement; ancient arts, and magical symbols, traced so rapidly that it almost created a heat signature in a sense of the symbols that were being dictated, unknowing to the untrained eye. For the most part, I could only really assume that this is why these people were losing their minds— in his movements, Michael Jackson was literally carving ancient callings, glyphs and sigils I had so recently read about in magical studies that it was impossible not to laugh. This was in every sense of the word, ‘magic' but not in the normal way one assumes to be something unexplainable. Michael Jackson was casting spells to thousands of people at a time, in front of cameras and at high volume vibration, often times even implementing the use of light, color, and fire. These were not simple gatherings in mass for entertainment purposes— these were rituals, and in the modern day, still were or are— but I had noticed in a quick glimpse, from Michael Jackson 30 some odd years ago to Lady Gaga just having passed something like a week ago to an audience of the same size— that something was kind of wrong, now. The people had changed, and the specable had been done over and over, and the brainwashing of the masses had in a sense been almost complete— and so It wasn't some sense of confusion or unknowing the things that were happening to me in my own life and my own world— I too, was capable of these things, at that capacity, and had simply not been trained in the same sense of the ideal superstar, however— the things that were happening in my own life and in my own world were not difficult to grasp or understand— when one comes upon a power as such, it finds means to seek to control it and harness it for his own use and purposes. Perhaps it was the simple fact that in this way, in the way I get the dream had gone and the spectacle had been played out of the masses and the illusion was no longer as such— that the actual knowledge of distinct ancient wisdom that had been Michael Jackson's natural ability was distinguishable from that of Lady Gaga's training in the same formula, and that one did not equal the other, but in terms of business could equal to that as such as the masses had been manipulated to seek solace in these same things— and it was not illusion or grandiosity that I, even in my agingness, was still capable of these things; I had no doubt in my mind that I could sing and dance for two hours to audiences of hundreds of thousands— but this was not the question for the business or the media— the question was, would hundreds of thousands pay to see me, or rather— who was willing to front the means to hypnotize hundreds of people to become aware of me so that they would do such a thing. My talent and capabilities were undeniable— but my markatability might have been in question, because it was no longer simply a matter or chance or luck: the people chosen to figure such spectacle were chosen, hand selected and well trained to become media conglomerate superstars, even regardless of talent; perhaps this itself was the key indication that the world of the superstar itself had come to an end—it was no longer so much of a spectacle was worth it. Or, perhaps, because money had come between these ancient arts and symbols and languages being spoken by the superstars of old, that the magic in the literal sense had gone all the way away. The symbolism in the art had died, and so the singing and the dancing remained, but the God had gone out of it. Maybe that was the difference. The superstars of today were just the shell of the model that had been built on God, but the Godsense of it was no longer there— and so the magic no longer remained in effect, as the powers of magic that be are in all ancient arts and texts and forms attributive to The Source. Either way, I wasn't going to continue to be a sitting duck in my apartment in Brooklyn— there were too many indications that it had all been a setup from the shelter to the day I moved in, with the motorcycles and cars and CBS studios one block away. So the real and only question was, what exactly had been played at and who exactly was pulling the strings? I might at this point become a loose cannon: my son was estranged and as far as the people were concerned, I mostly hated New York— because the refined, clean cut and classy people I liked and wanted to be around saw me as the dirt and the grime I was fighting my way through just to simply exist— in my mind, this was a world that could be no more. I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress Keep writing I never thought I ‘d see the day Where i's taking lessons on Fallon From Michael Jackson That's ran That's a fan This is fame I'm insane I'm insane That's a fan Light the flame That's a fan. That's a fan. I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I went up the rack, set the page on fire Nordstrom rack And I might take it back for the cash I like Sara in a dress Stay repressed Keep it dark If you kiss don't tell I will probably go to hell for just writing Try it In black ink, I got all spades, Ehy, Spare me the ridicule, the imbecile and I met Johnny in a cage I like Fallon in a dress, Obsessive, I'm dressed out Every day I leave where I do not live Where stalker crawl and haunt me Just to show the motorcycles Have desheveled my intelligence into Nothing And so with negligence, I leave the core of a rotting apple The foreign words of a doctor And You must call the king, says something far off But I wonder which one I wonder which one I so respect her honor That I no longer Follow my heart or my soul And I don't shallow But shatter to swallow So I let the sparrow Out of the cage I bought Sara A pair of pants And I haunt l Patrick Kirkpatrick in patches And haven't you read yet You're ready for forget the pageant? It hasn't happened yet! I love Sara in a dress I hate Fallon and his wife Keep the kids out if it Skull and crossbones Cross my heart and Really hope to the loveless Or else Someone might call my phone back It's on silent in my coffin Or wait— It's on vibrate. I'm obsessed with the way You're dressed And the name on your checks I guess I'm better for it I'll skip lunch if you think that's what's best And dinner, too If you deserve the best Then better have learned my lesson No sweat And to do, With you, Was then, Dinner through next supper All the love I had was Rubbed into something other than The glass I patted dry With microfiber With ever fiber of my being I want to be with you I should have just— Died, And then Did, and so next Life, Remind me not to Fall for it If i really wanted to know you,I would know you by now– If i wanted to have you? I would have had you already Nobody is a dancer after Michael Jackson. I just watched some shit that was like “What the fuck did I just see” The whole thing was just not right. It was-/ I was like First of all, it's Munich, 1997. I never really realized how terribly the world has changed; No cellphones, but the audience is lit, And the crazy thing is, you can tell that this is near the turn of the century because, when the camera is panning by the audience in the people, they're not looking directly into the camera or waving at the camera— not really. And clearly this is an all ages show, so there's children, so the interesting thing I'm finding out is that nobody's trained to look at the camera and wave and smile— except the babies on shoulders and shit. These kids— they're my age now, are the only ones that see the camera, and they look directly into the shit. Mi still can't do that, really— I'm theatrically trained. Haha If I see a camera, I try to act ‘natural' It's the weirdest thing to look at a camera and just start to work it. People at festivals now, the camera rolls by, Or the drone flies in, And they look deadass in the camera and start to work it. Not at this show. Munich 1997, I'm like “Damn, a lot of things is wrong with this” First of all, I love Michael Jackson, I look directly at this man, and I'm in my dirty peak so I have an instant— like a sex detector thing going on And I know people gave Michael a hard time when he was a live for being fruity and whatever But I'm looking at this dude, and I don't see fruit at all. I see 100% man. I see why people were mad at him. Cause I'm looking at this dude, 100% All I see is carnal, primal man. I'm like, “Yo, I see why they was mad at him” Because the camera kept panning to the audience And these people are losing their minds. They are coming out of themselves. They are UGLY CRYING, full out of body, Losing composure They don't know what to do. That's Michael Jackson. He's right there! And the place is huge so really besides these few hundreds of people in the front, Michael's just a speck, But he's working this audience like “Yo, you know who I am, I know who is me” And I'm realizing, that to these people That's their god. These girls are losing their minds m “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!l *crying inconsolably* Just UGLY crying Bitch, get it together . You all the way lost yourself Get. It together. She won't. This bitch. I can't get over this This one girl, They just keep going back to her Cause the whole show— And this is like 2 hours of pure non stop Michael Jackson, This girl, every time you see her, she's just ugly crying— And every time you see her Her cry is uglier and ugly I'm like “Damn bitch” “Daaaaaaang” So this is the first thing I see that is wrong. But there's a lot of things wrong here, Cause there's a lot of girls like this. There's just— hundreds of girls losing their minds, like, I've seen Beatles mania and thought that was crazy, Shit, I've even seen some people put out that kind of energy in the modern world for some dumb DJ's— That's their god— But THIS THIS Michael Jackson mania was mental illness That was hard to watch. That was people just Lost control. I'm thinking “Like goddamn. You— what?!” “AAagghhhhhhgahahahahahqhahahhahaha MICHAELl “These people are sick” But they are. And so is Michael Fame has gone too far, 1997; 12 short years before he died, by chance— So this is what I see, And then Michael starts dancing, And this— This is what I see; I see the only thing that can ever be what it was in that moment in time, as God being God: Michael Jackson. Shiny ass motherfucker, And so I'm watching this show, And all I see is a God being a man being a God being— Michael Jackson— And the whole thing is weird. But the worst part— Yes The worst part Was when, about mid show, Michael goes to do one of his slow, lovey doves songs, And like, this 6 foot 7 type body guard guy, Just pops up out of nowhere, Comes dead front and center to one of these little girls losing their minds, Runs up on her in an instant; You don't even have time to think— And just SNATCHES her— Snatches the bitch— “Ah!” then throws her up on stage with Michael— And he's still singing; this is his game, this is part of the show, he knows— But she doesn't know, And she's just lost her mind, She won't let go She's hugging and kissing on the dude, She's lost her mind, She's ugly crying She's on the floor, She's kissing his hand She's really lost her good goddamn mind— And they pan out to the audience, And all the girls that didn't get picked Are like WHY NOT MEEEEEEEREEEEE?!? THE UGLY CRIES ARE EVEN UGLIER NOW, They're like “Wh—what?” You don't know?! “WHY NOT ME” They're holding each other crying, Michael's just doing his thing, He's unphased, He's trying to play along; He's a professional like a motherfucker; He's just— keeps singing And this girl is just, Losing it, so at this point, it's weird, She's crazy batshit lost her mind all the way, Won't let go of Michael, kissing his face while he's singing, He's kind of unreceptive to it, now just looking out at the audience, almost not even looking at all Just cold as fuck actually, Like she's not there, kissing his face Cold as fuck— And then another bouncer dude— An even bigger one in a blue suit, comes and tears her off of Michael Cause clearly this has gone too far or whatever And I'm thinking “What in the fuck did I just see” Blue suit dude just snatches, Just— He has to tear her off of him! She's kicking and screaming and getting dragged off stage Michael's just: singing. YO. Then they dragged her back stage. Where did she go?! WHO DID SHE BECOME?! WHAT IN THE FUCK DID I JUST SEE?!? WHAT. 1997. You can't do that shit anymore! You cannot snatch bitches like that. I seen. Watch the video. Tell me what's wrong with it. It's disgusting. Not the snatching, Not the— Like, that was weird But the screaming and the crying and the— Like okay, the snatching was bad— But I'm like … ..:: …. Now I see why they was mad. Don't ever forget he was once— A dark skinned little boy, And in his genetics his whole life is still this thing That some hate. But people loved him; they loved him that hard— Screaming, ugly crying hard. I think in that moment you know someone was like “he must be stopped!” And it seems like yesterday was a year ago But I don't want let anybody know… Cause everybody wants something from me now— And I don't want to let them down. My life is over. New York City looks so small from the top of a skyscraper. What are you doing. Then again— my thoughts lately have been grandiose. Back market, eh? What's this for? You need a burner. I have three. Here, have another. For someone whose supposed to be entirely off grid, I'm admirably reachable. Clever vocabulary. Something has to be clever about me, doesn't it? Does it? It must be. Or else. [both men are speaking casually over the delicate process of loading rare guns; some of which appear to be antique, and some—almost even unearthly , as if from somewhere besides our own planet. But, you could say what planet this is at all, actually— this bunker, with no windows and no doors, is apparently hidden in a subterranean layer— the location, unknown. The men seem calm but also quite tired and weary, and seem to know each other well. We can assume they've probably been friends for years. Sickle cell anemia. Does that mean I'm going to die. Animus, I quite like whatever that is, Google. ;) don't mention it. Honestly, you might as well. What. I can't help you with this. What. I don't think there's anyone who can. Beg your pardon. Please, don't beg— but uh… [the doctor pats his patient on the shoulder] Do take care. Gee, doc! I'll try! You should do that. What. Try. The doctor leaves seemingly in some kind of hurry, trading his lab coat for a trench coat and closing the door behind him. The other man pauses for a second in the silence of the weird linoleum room, then ponders on the coat for a moment before walking up to the coat rack, putting on the coat, and then walking out the door himself; as he begins to shut the door, he quickly decides also to take the fedora that was sitting atop the coat rack, placing it on his head before he walks out the door himself, shutting it behind him quietly. You got anything to eat in here? Cereal…some rabbit food ina the drawers, there. Oh, you have salad. That sounds nice. No, rabbit food. [the man presents a large bag of weird brown dry food from the crisper drawer.] …pellets. For the rabbits. How do rabbits get in here? …I don't know. And— more importantly— where did you get rabbit food for them? If I told you Amazon, would you believe me? The man just winces and places the bag back into the crisper drawer. Now listen, I um— If you want cereal, the milk is powedred… I don't— and that's disgusting— but listen— [the man cocks a loaded gun and admires it intensively] (Dismissively) —I'm listening. I've been meaning to tell you something. Tell me what. It's important. Oh, You couldn't have used one of my four phones. Look, it's— You know I wasn't expecting company. Well— You should sit down. The man squints, beginning to listen more attentively. … …really. I'm holding a loaded gun; there are at least three more within arms reach if I do sit, you know. I know. But I should sit? One baby to another says, “I'm lucky to've met you.” Maybe you should. Not all my bad but all my might, And all my mind, The fire, The light. …business or personal. [beat] Both. {Enter The Multiverse} What are we watching?! Shhhhhh! Shut up. What is this? Some.. Sshhh. Shit, I don't know. Sit down. You don't know. SHH it just came on Shh. Ok. When? Uh… (Nobody really seems to know how long it's been. The show just happened to come on; no one remembers how, or why— or even when— But the show is intense as it gets; And it just keeps getting weirder and deeper.) {Enter The Multiverse} I'm transfixed on your soul And it seems I aspire To what has transpired here, Your unremarked and the umpire The spider veins and the way it washes. And watches and waves, and waters over you, And still I seem to think you've won another, Strum to thumb of you. And still I wake to gather here The odds and whats And the twists and turns and the Troublesome you've number some Or stuttered, stumbled conciousness. And withered branches Aces lie and house of cards And aging scoundrels— There you are, the..: Nevermind. Don't belittle my ways if, In the end my thinking may be correct As dumbfounded as I have shifted my lottery bonds tied to none, There ye are again who aren't I, And never were, And weathered now, as I, bound to Struggle under her might, Nothing I was, and nothing I am And nothing I came from but to barter Oh hard love, I only found my kings upon thrown As cast out of another by her likeness, Peace and pale and primed as it was, And wanted for love, As I was not— And then, the gates had opened And I, preaching withered, Gathered my arts and my minds And my eyes, and my thrones, Buried my ark and though not my bones The shallow waking peaks of pride And there you gathered, all as huddled sheep to mine, The cost of war, but certain therefore honored as I have, Happened went, came and untied, shattered Hating all I am and all my dark and all my eyes and all my brown Because you came and went, a baby born to as nothing was but beauty and yet having been gifted such life, Departed! Soon, I wake shattered and with none as it had began, in my time and in time there laid there none, But fortune seeks to favor, as ye are saying brave and yet I neither beg nor make to differ, Shall you come again in part, And in this time as shadows, as shadows As hating and wearing and waging, And shattered I, I pardon, Knowing not they seeking I, And I having none at all but one, As forgotten I shall came And went And followed this, The time y'i call now, And ours and ours, And yours and yours, And mine and mine, Though as one are also, Common not, And waking yet to find, These things making have gone into yer Another of ours, world, Another of our dozens, Shines, Another of our gathered, wit, and waking Though true to fortune, none us have gathered And have embarked to truth, The waking I have come, Another, and another, and another Departed. And yet, I bury my words having weakened to that which is this, Ye have no fear and lest no fortune in these words, For having I to come and gone, since they times In words to make this a language I or neither other Does not speak here, and almost never, And this yours time past, Has come and gone And come and gone And come and gone again, So long so I too have parted but not yet Unfolded as does my nature, As God does. Belittle this, you waking fools, As to this you pity though divine, Is unlike any other And steep remarked in gold and with chimes and words That ye here no often or either now, or in mine speak. Amen …can I go now? You are dismissed. C'cxell Soleïl, aka DJ Ū is an American DJ + Producer, Multi-Instrumentalist, Playwright, Poet, Comedian, Novelist & Filmmaker. She is best known for her unique vocal riffs, Clever Lyricism & Philanthropically Inspired Freestyles and her flagship venture [The Festival Project.™] [Ï A M B ī C], a freestyle studio mixtape recorded in Los Angeles, (Official Release: TBD) inspired the adaptation of a staged musical version for Broadway, and a concurrent multimedia (TV/Film) series and ongoing saga as part of The Festival Project ™ Brand. Inspired musically by an ‘Ultra American' experience of Racially, Binary Ambiguity, and Synesthetic Exploration, her reflective melodies signature sound provides a philosophical dissection of American culture through a careful and inquisitive mastery of the English language, and emergence of world sounds through music brings about ‘A New Era in Nature', and clarifies the establishment of the newest wave in human evolution: Unity Through Music. L E G E N D S What if I just want to be alone in the dark Alone in the dark Alone in the dark Bones Duggar was a long, handsome zombie Bones once was a very tall man Not great and tall, as he stands But average, Grand as it were, his status. Everything's black My heart My pants My home My mind Everything hurts But you don't understand that Like I can Calm the commercial holidays for a moment Who gets the card? Get our your hard earned My head hurts Slam the door man; You can't control thoughts With a wombat Murderer Now that's a hard concept to catch When you haven't a soul When you haven't a card Or a car Or a cat I think I'm vanilla. I always thought of myself as a super kink Like a freaky, freaky bitch. So I got on this app. This app is better then Tinder. Yes. But it is not for the faint of heart. No, sir. They have a test, I'm like “ooh, I like tests” So I take the test. The test was not at all… As I'd hoped. First of all, It was hard. It was not a quiz; It was a TEST And I failed. I realized “Oh my god, I don't like any of this stuff” I am not about that! No! Yuck! Gross. “I think I might be vanilla.” I might be vanilla. I want my hair pulled back like a leash And my arms tied up Like I'm being arrested Without being read my rights. — I want your hands on the back of my neck [breathe] Reach around to my Mortimer's apple Put the lights out, Adam. I want the lights cut off. I want the bills piled up so the phone don't work I want the habit back on Don't talk to nobody I told you, I'm coming No, God! That's dumb! Show me why I'm off all alone with a rattle so bad It's just segmented thoughts, colors and sounds I can't make with all the plugins in the kindgdom of chaos?! I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES— I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES —but the one who could love me is God, And I guess he's not coming. The denial turns to tears, Not songs no more My womb is empty And the sun has turned into Not what I wanted But not my fault We got caught in the land of Cutting costs And processed morsels At 400 pounds And that's where I found What I thought was love But it turns out That it just turns up In the whole form of a person And that's why I got the collar, caller But really I'm no one's lover So I Do what I want I don't hang up on God But he don't got a body And I need someone to love/ Fuck me Please God Don't turn the lights off I'll pull the clock back Just like foreskin, god i want your skin Draped over mine in a warm swath Probably run a hot back Cause the next stop is a closet The line doesn't really move for the Doesn'tMatterhorn. some people are starting to doubt if it's even a ride. Others just admire it for its eloquence as a metaphor. Johnny! You scared me! Aha. Where did you go?! Nowhere— fast! Alright well— Money when you know I have it But I haven't really Paid attention to the never ending Digits never coming in but Simply, there's a secret, Sonny Someday you'll get lessons, honey. Much to find and much to serve and Surf us up Piñata's bout the burst But here comes Vesuvius (POW) Everyone was gone in an instant (Vapor) Had a good laugh that night in the pantheon; Everything's past, and the mortals They kept on running But i didn't want go, God Putting on a show then I blow up Just like the mountain Found her Now I got a broke back husband (hope so) To tell, don't ask Don't show up if you just get lost But I'm probably in the back with a bottle back mountain Now you got a real horse pack. Trip Girl keep camping What was the map with the mask and the Fashion? Pass. I put sugar on the rim of the glass With my eyes half closed And my ass clenched fast shut I'm an alcoholic Don't involve the God I got lost in the mall with the —- UGHHHHHHHH! Hello. Uh, yes— hi. what up. Mirror mirror. Uh…nothing. You're lost? No. You look lost. Oh? Disgruntled. I am that. You're lost? I'm not lost. My friend is lost. His phone is dead. You lost each other. Sort of. Continuity conniption I nipped an eclipse And he picked his nose For a full ass minute Sitting at the stop sign That's a gobstopper's worth in our time Pull all the clocks back, Pull the fool over, You just got fined It was Friday for nothing I was in the hatchback, Scratch that Sour patch Should have called Pat back Now I'm just a Cool 48 in the ring with a date And the cashapp Continuity construction I want a husband! Fuck that. I want a clean cut plus one Since I can't have Helmet, Elmo, Or Hatchetman; Tears of a Clow…no, Wait I lost focus Half finished album Got 6 tracks But I knew it was 12 from the get go Prob‘ly should have knocked off the showrunner; Nah, I'm sure I had that coming Hashtag, undon Could have been you, too If the cash came through Now it's hard times Hardwired Sitting on a hi wire, Little white liar, liar Wait I made Katey Sagal (Fire) Cut off her hair (Fire) Went to the hall of fame with the framed sunglasses Asked for her autograf, But she walked off So I shot her with a bottle/ can, But she ducked, popped back up With the brass knuckles Surfboard Good for a chuckle and a fuck So I asked for her number All that on a Sunday at Gelson's market. Christ, almighty I miss Walmart, I hit hard times. So many places to run, But not many places to hide I think I want to die here I think i want to die. City of corruption… Lay it out and lay it over City of corruption… no, it's not a choice It's a black tie function Right in that very moment Seth Meyers kind of became my defacto personal hero. “Never meet your heroes” Or perhaps it was just his writing team, or the fact that maybe even without there even being anything set in stone or solid at all, [redacted] itself seemed to have a price over my head– It all seemed to make sense; in fact, all the crazy things i was experiencing made more sense than it didn't. But after what felt something like between defeat and maybe even one day really getting justice for all the things that had happened to me in new york– it was that, at best; That without actually meaning it, by all probability, the opening monologue described what in perfect sense the thing that had been happening to me: hundreds of motorcycles and cars riding around in circles for over a year, any time i tried to work or sleep–and then, when I finally tried to reach out to find an attorney that would help, I was made to feel crazy for it. In a way, it was the perfect indication that it had all been some sort of sick game, and that I was more right than wrong, and being set up to appear, sound, or look crazy–but I wasn't. I had been under attack for nearly two years, and when I tried to reach out, my heart raced and my voice cracked, and I sounded crazy and desperate–but what was happening was very real; and now I knew where I was. As it turns out, New York's corruption was more common knowledge to everyone else before it was to me: New York was a common place for fucked up, dirty, low-down mind games: and this was my lesson in that. Seth Meyers in reality had nothing to do with it–and really I only meant to watch Kimmel over my afternoon tacos. But still, though it hadn't entirely anything to do with me, the opening statements rang true to exactly what I had experienced; I was made to lose my mind, only to have everyone around me tell me it was something wrong with me–but it wasn't. Something was wrong with the city, and the building management, and the people around who were making it all to be some kind of mental disorder or problems with my mind–in reality, it was 2 years of being in the center of a speedway, and all the time i'd lost because of it adding to the stress, and the angst, and the depression that resulted. Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Does anyone else smell blood I hate wedding days suits and tuxedos No, I don't know you I'm just here to sound the hundred drums Of the once before us (The ones to come) Then, there we were and I didn't want to admit Again, I was caught into the ghost of the rapture Or the holy hour, No aux chord Show the holy one Just how old you are On these sacr d lands and a holy grounds Now I want here half an ounce to smoke And there were drowning orchestras in all of the hearts And all of the markets, The market the marker And all of the sins of the savior The maytyr Did you remember not to notice not to know him Were you sure with words you were for nickelodeaon! I was supposed to hold on to, Supposed to hold on to Suddenly, it's summer. And always our own are under the weather There was no other wise man the wind. Lee the one came The site came and went and then the songs went left The songs went left; Again, the songs went left Did you win at wintergreen Well, God, I didn't know gym was a game. I didn't know guns we're just portals to worlds unknownn I didn't know gossip was golden What all else didn't I know It wasn't for here! It was fourth flour And in the final hour of the battle I commenced to summon All the gods and all the lords and all the flowers All the worlds of oceans and the Remember, this The remembrance It may not matter to some, What matters to most But until summer comes, I'm still up under the rail And practically it's spring, for the next two weeks I'm all berries and cream and whatever you wanted. Tormaline, emerald and onyx, the fox said And fox says its west when instead it's quite under what of the reporter's offer? Comes down a little to none What of the offer Comes down from a billion to one A billion to one I'm on TV so it's really just a one way screen Either way, I don't think he likes me much I don't think he likes me much I'd rather die than to fall in love even one more time And to keep on just never being loved Never beingbloved {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

"Begåvad men fattig, ge henne lika chans" är en känd slogan från en socialdemokratisk valaffisch 1948. Men hur stark är meritokratin i det moderna Sverige? Och är vi okej med stora klyftor sålänge det bara drabbar "obegåvade"? Petter Larsson, författare till boken "Riggat", gästar Pengar och Politik för ett samtal med Silvia om ojämlikhet och övertron på att flit och talang avgör ens ekonomiska status. 

Pools of blood, And pools of dust, And fools, and fools, and fools Pools of love, And pools of list And tools and tools, and tools Pools of us, And Pools of hours And palms of pools D'hors Pools of plants, And pools of listen Pools and Pools and Pools Now, for us, what's at stake has come upon us For whether which now or ever ties have made for us to burn; Ne'er mistake there lust for listens and of ponders, Waterfalls of love and feathers, wanders Ties to honor stars and fore of fathers Almost lost it, there, I– Almost gathered, therefore. [ ] So to us who part ties, Of tied knots and of stomach's wrench To nourish shadows as remains her honor, I, depart my once, I, as flocking doves, The twist'of fated never Bare I fear or fonder Where, where, for again (bare tied as to none) and again wakes as has but not in time, to grove– The box I paved and yet, Set aside not as slabs of stone Or ash and fire But there i wake In cedar pine and oak The turn of slumber as the glow of what I once did not know, Now has shined against My eyes as water Luminescence Oh Goddamnit. Peaking pride, the oath Again i wait and ne'er did I come, but forth I woke, and also thought Not one but worlds of color, And there i know, to heart the seas I parted Not shallow or in shallows waking, red as scarlet blood but mauve, and then, the coping stays of which I gathered here has Agape and aching, wet with pride and courage Forefront others As thought to know, I, And I become, as known, now not and. “All White World” Our ENSEMBLE awakens slowly in the void of light; an all white space seemingly endless and drenched in blinding light; slowly awakening as if upon a cloud, and yet, washed in the drenched brightness of an all white world–familiar and together, but also new; The uniformity of all white attire and the simplicity of symmetry–all alike but of many and also one. I promise there's pancakes; I promise there's porridge I primise there's light at the end of the tunnel (the end of the night and beginning of brunch) And yes, I promise a run And a run for the office (not by far) And not unpardoned I promise to pray And I promise to wait And i promise to ache In the acres I've laid Made of all green pastures And days and days Without saying my name Pass us over Now…. Hiatus, Hiatus, Hiatus! My maples for all of us, cornbread And cream of the coconut (cream of the coconut) Screams from the underworld (Calling! They're calling) And trees of the very best kind; Plush with fruits What a prosperous product A merciless giving A scrupulous foreign (For four eyes, not one on my forehead) –policy! Don't you know, Conan, That all this goes over my– Over my over– Over my Over my head, –like a snowball? Don't you know, though, That nothing goes over his– Over his over– Over his Over his head –no one throws that high! (Not in softball!) ENSEMBLE What an apocalypse! What an apocalypse! What a protocol! What a dunce! What an oddball! Don't you know Nothing goes over Goes over Goes over us Nothing goes over us Nothing goes over Nothing goes over No bombs being dropped And the worst has to come because Nobody's turning this off; It's a turning point Not a mantra! It's a saga And nothing less short than a– Awful apocalypse; Long hiatus and no-low doses of Polymorohypothesis– Whatever that is! Don't you know, Conan, They're all going wrong with us. No, There's no knowing the coat From the hotbox, the hoot from the horus, the laugh from the chopsticks, The room full of products Or coatrooms of corpses No, There's no knowing us But out of nowhere The hour comes running upon us, And so The show must go on The show must go on The show must go…. DIRECTOR CUT! WHAT! That was FABULOUS! I don't disagree with you. However– What is it now? A MAN hangs by nothing but seemingly a very tightly buckled pair of restraints, above his head–the source of the object from which he hangs unknown, he appears to almost float, in fact, in quite the sufferable struggle. Holy fuck, guy. You're still up here? The VOICE comes from above but is yet unseen, it appears as though two very tidy clean white tennis shoes appear to be holding the straps of these restraints in place. CONT'D That's amazing. No false ties, And no hard wars, And no jolly ranchers, Gob stoppers, or nerf ropes. No fruit roll ups, No lunchables, or gushers No hamburger helper And no candy crush Just Drugs And more Drugs And more Drugs and more Morons Donuts, and drag queens, Tim Hortons, And Mormons; Mothballs, and Roaches, And horseflies, And rodents – Now guess which long road you're on (guess which long road you're on) Guess which long road you're aaaaahhhhhh– HALT. Who goes there. What the fuck is THIS. Finally, two acts past intermission, The troll under the bridge has put his cancer in remission The redactions have acted as class-action warfare, McDonalds has sponsored us, But barely. Look: just. No. I'm not endorsing this. Why. Because! It's killing people! Shh! It is! He–'s uh–joking. Actors! Improvising! Hush. Left and right! Speaking of left and right– You know who our sponsors are, right? Of coure! This nonsense! No! The– Shh–! –Owners of this product. Beg your pardon. Do you know who owns this brand and company? No. Well, do your research. Immediately. I highly recommend that. This seems serious. Serious as a heart attack. ACTION! Fuck you! Nuhhhhh–fuck you, you fucking fuck! Look, you lost, alright. Ughhhhhh. It's three to one. Three to one?! Yes. Fuck. Wait a–wait– What. Aren't there five of you guys? What? Huh-huh? No. Yes. There are. No. There's. Why. Five–of us–four of us You're lying. One, two, three *hiccups* four– Strike force “five”? I'm two guys! FUCK. We're missing one. Fuck. They figured us out. I figured out nothing. I'm drunk. I Fluffed. just know the difference–s between Five and One What. Four and Five! okay . Fuck. Well that's right. Well can't we just do it with us. NO! Why not. Because. the singularity has to be in the exact circumstance when this lightning strikes as the first one was. But– That's impossible. It's not–*hiccups*--umpossible. I was 9! “9 and a half!” “The half counts.” But not right now! Because i'm like a 60 year old guy! What! Gross. You're 60?! I think so! Then how old am I!?! I don't know! How old were you before!? I'm your brother! You don't know how old I am!? You're not my brother now, so maybe–I don't know–you never were! *gasps* take that bacK! [The boys fight amongst eachother] Fuck me, man. No thank you. What in the fuck did I write. I don't know but. CUT TO Ooh. Dice. DON'T TOUCH *poof* ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: L E G E N D S “The Magic Dice” (A Triad) NICE. FUCK yOu DUDE. nO fuck U U dElEETED My WRLD. THen is must not have been that great. *exaggerateD gasp* *even more exaggerated gasp* *Fluffs* *fluffs harder* *explodes* [The Festival Project ™ ] MEANWHILE The Aliens Are On A Pirate Ship, There's Still No Sign of [Redacted] and that's what this beat is called. -U. iS this a montage? Idk it just seems like a ship sinking in very slow motion. [A pirate ship full of aliens is sinking in very slow motion in a thunderous maelstrom.] (in IMAX 3D) Wow. I like that. This is fascinating. JIMMY KIMMEL is pacing relentlessly; he is driving the other hosts up a wall. KIMMEL I'm hungry, I want pants. I'm hungry– I want pants– Jimmy... KIMMEL I'm hungry– Jimmy! KIMMEL I want pants! JIMMY! KIMMEL WHAT! I'M HUNGRY AND I WANT PANTS! Oh, is that when— CRAIG FURGUSON has had enough. CRAIG You want bloody pants! KIMMEL YES! I WANT PANTS! CRAIG You know what! Fine! I'll make you some fucking pants if you just–shut UP! KIMMEL AND I'M HUNGRY. CRAIG FIRST THINGS FIRST! CRAIG FURGUSON assembles some very eclectic pants from the drapery inside the mansion; this of course reveals the windows to be boarded up in a highly distinct bunker-like maximum security prison-ish fashion, but THE HOSTS at the very least now have makeshift pants; which are startlingly fashionable: read: bohemian chic. Why do mine have beads still attached? He pulls the decorative ripchord and his fly opens promptly. Oh. CRAIG FURGUSON For emergencies. He continues pulling it in sequence with the matching lamp; he alternates turning the lights on and off and opening and shutting his pants flap in admiration. CRAIG FURGUSON CONT'D In case you really have to go. (Facinated) Ooh! CRAIG FURGUSON is satisfied with his work. CRAIG FURGUSON CONT'D I guess you could say, “The curtains match the drapes” CONAN O'BRIEN (beat) …not mine. {Enter The Multiverse} Fearsome, fearsome friends– Fearsome fearsome few Fearsome fearsome tears Listen whispers Fearsome twin Silly hollows All the lies All that waits is Hollywood and chosen five at ends of times All that waits are kings and wisdom All that knows are far, and farther All that needs is nothing, lessons All that fears is our kind Waiting. Shallow. Whispers, Gaining, Hornets nests and looming , gifted Shadow watchers Our time Farrows, Listen, Glistening as sparrows, Gifted– Kill God, There remains a far price There remains a far cry A call to wolves A false time The fabric is losts on Ghosts and Carry trains, Wishes and Tilted, Whisperers Before our Galaxy of Hard times and Wishes, Wishes, Wilting, Flowers, Waiting, Waiting And Waiting And Waiting And wanting but watching The water Gallons Fly up The wanted Waiting The gallows Have haunted us Far cries, Far cry Fear twins, have shattered To notice us Chatterbox Listens and Life turns and Waiting and Galaxies Gallantly Waiting The gallows Have haunted us Waiting And Waiting And Waiting and Water. We're watching you. An ACHINGLY TALL red-headed fellow finds himself in a FIGHT TO THE DEATH, being cast over eons and decades, and cascaded in and our of portals throughout the ever-infinite dimensional portals of unknown realms as his grasp on life itself and reality begins to fade as he crosses in and out of parallels, one galaxy to the next and one lifetime to another, gripping death and darkness in one hand and light and living in the other. In this bloody brawl, scrawling across an expanse of unknown and unknowable times and realms, this mystic remains still yet as infinite and omniscient in himself as the Gods he looks to for mercy, as the journey has been known to become of these very same deities in its context and process. A folding timeline of blood and sacrifice melds itself into the rope of the materiel worlds; not one fabric of time but many twisted and woven fibers into one rope from which he climbs into the ranks of the upperworld–or heaven, then also slipping seemingly sometimes into the depths of the underworld, a Hell known to all man as this, existence not as one but many consumed in the shadow processes of wickedness and torture, war amongst one another, and the well known humanities of pride, faith, justice and wealth. …this is supposed to be Conan? Uhh… “Achingly tall red-head?” yeah I guess. –O'Brien? [beat] He seems capable. Don't pity me, For not I weep of our pride on doorsteps not allowed, But for the grace and hope of fortune in another world i've known But lest forgotten; Do not feign me for my ignorance in desire, For I am not of man, or woman, or grain, or stone But of the world itself and all ire. (Don't doubt me.) To be cruel not those who pass judgement That weighs in this way or that is utmost critical, In this the end of times and now the end of my desires, And yet the way that I have known, And the offer I have rung Is not here, but elsewhere. And yea, I walk alone. Amen. What the fuck does this have to do with show hosts. Almost always Irish Catholic Almost Always clothed in robes Almost Always fathers, aren't I? Almost always old, of Rome. Almost always birds of feather Almost always sticks and stones Almost always on the airwaves Almost always silver, gold Slither, Slither, Here i wait And Slither slither, Here I came And whether she will slit her wrists Is neither here Nor either there It's a comfort that I offer you to slaughter; That you'd rather not to love but instead murder– I'd be better off to love, then kill you after, Course, tarantula, or just as well, a spider. It's a comfort that I offer you to kill me; Lay my head upon a sanded wooden platter– That you'd rather me to say I'd kill than love you– So I rather just to love, then murder after. Woah. Good to God, God ought to know. I close my palms together full of laughter, So. Good to God, God ought to know, I sacrified my life for ever after. So far. Good to God, God ought to know, That all he wants, I want My heart is surely shattered. Now what. Good as God, God ought to know, That all I want becomes; The looking glass, The wishing well, The cross to bare The shepherd to the pasture. Amen. Omen. All men. Want none. But one. But– So. [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS W E L C O M E -Ū. Copyright The Festival Project, Inc. ™ & The Complex Collective © 2015-2025 All Rights Reserved B A C K Tales of A Superstar DJ

Maybe I'm not afraid because it just feels temporary. The noise in the apartment made it easy to let go, and better yet, because of the noise— the only way a pro bono lawyer might speak with me is if I was evicted— then, explaining away that from the day I moved into the apartment my mental health began to spiral and, that recovery from homelessness and having left an abusive relationship became impossible with motorcycles and modified cars circling like buzzards, gangsters slanging on the corner banging music I hated, and an all around environment of unwellness, in which I was unable to cope with the mechanisms of even the simplest tasks, after being bombarded by these hellish people. I was sure that speaking with one sort of lawyer and explaining my heavily documented case would eventually lead to meetings with another kind of lawyer who would see my case and agree that I had been attacked, and severely wounded— and eventually, probably, compensated. It simply wasn't facet of my imagination but seemed there was sort of hate group targeted to stalk and harass me— even in Manhattan, after visiting the Apple Store, a random pair of motorcycles approached and revved their engines thunderously as I walked back to the studio, even startling another passerby, as she shook her head as if to say “that was horrible”, with this look of fear and disgruntlement. It had been two years of this for me, though, and so I was somewhat used to it. It still hurt, but not the way it used to. Inside, sort of like the way a boxer knows how to take a punch because he's trained for it. But this was not my job, and I was not getting paid, unless I could actually put my mind together enough to assimilate some sort of strategy; a lawsuit against the property management and the city itself for allowing the harassment, and at the end of the day, it didn't much care who was responsible, and whether it was politics or street theatre— I just wanted it to stop. I could honestly say that any sort of legal action was indeed not about the money, but rather an escape. Would I live in New York if I did not have to? Not by any means, anyway, in the way I did. Just the view alone set me off, and anytime one of the foam panels fell out of the window from sun or dust and the lot of cars and busy intersection peered through, a gut wrenching anxiety came over me like the way it did when I first saw it; even then, when I first viewed the apartment, I knew that something bad had happened here before I even moved in— and it was bad, the constant motorcycle attacks, and at one point they were not at all writeable enough off as “normal noise”, the way they used to wait until I was almost a sleep to rip through the block and create sonic booms that sounded like bombs—eventually these kinds of attacks stopped but it was around the first year that I started to realize due to these series of traumas my brain was wired differently.i understood that she's were acts of war, but why? I had no intentions of stirring anything up in this place and honestly, from the start, because I was stuck, I had just wanted to get out. Hold on. I got two jokes. Ok. What was the one about— Oh, it's so simple but since they hate black women so much it would probably make a white audience laugh. My ex punched me so hard, I thought I was going to run for president in 2028. That's it? That's the joke. That not a joke. You're right. That's not a joke. I'm not though. I realized that. Please. Don't hit me. [beat] Unless you hit me hard enough that I actually become the actual president. Then, you're free to assassinate me. Thats the joke? Yeah. What a horrible joke. Yeah. Kind of. Okay. What's the other one? It's the—it's that enter the multiverse joke on the Sean Evans timeline. Ok. (Who is Sean Ryan) Idk. [Sean Ryan was the Showrunner of The Shield, Starring Michael Chiklis and Walton Goggins__which ran from 2001-2007, and also fostered the writing career of Kurt Sutter, who went on to create Sons of Anarchy.] Anyway. One of the contestants from hot ones calls Sean and goes, Sean! And Sean's like: Whaddup? Sean! How do you do this bro? [sean is eating ghost pepper cereal for breakfast with ice cold horchata ) Ew. Nice. It was gonna be milk but SEAN EVANS (Aside) The cinnamon gives it a nice schwing. Apparently, The training for hot ones is a non-stop tolerance-topper. Sean RYAN is always doing his best to outdo himself. Yeaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh! Thats right. Any fucking way. Sean! How do you do this everyday, buddy! Do what? My butthole is burning! I don't have one. You— what? I do not any longer have a butthole. Beg your pardon. I got it removed. What. What. Hold on, it's a multilayer joke. 2x Joke multiplier! Are we still playing this game? OH YEAH! goddamn. I really wanna see this fictional koolaid movie. WHERE'S SETH ROGEN? ROB LOWE is directing an episode of ENTER THE MULTIVERSE. DIRECTOR Quiet on Set! He turns to DRAKE BELL who is reprising his role as TIMMY TURNER. ROB LOWE Sorry, is that triggering to you? Nothing is said but instead he just shoots him a look. really on it with the zingers today. What can I say. I juice fasted and then ate like a normal person so maybe— I don't know. What's that supposed to mean. Everything is temporary. My next run isn't scheduled until after midnight but I might climb on the Peloton for an ironic spin. I owe everyone money. Not in the way that I ever wanted to be this bum, but in the way that all of my jobs have been awful enough that— honestly, I never quit, it just eventually all falls apart. I've been almost fondly remembering the— {Season 5} —summer in Las Vegas I had two awful jobs, no car, no place to live, and One boss who looked like Dillon Francis— And well. INT. LAS VEGAS ATHLETIC CLUB. WHENEVER. ITS OPEN 24 HOURS!!! WHEEEEEE!! Omg that guy looks just like Jimmy Fallon. BEFORE Oh, hi Jimmy. Hey! You finally noticed. I been noticing. You know I'm in a screen, right? You're in all the screens. Not all of them. ALL THE SCREENS A large wall of paneled Televisions hangs above the cardio center. … … MEANWHILE For while, the dude was everywhere. And I mean— Yo! I swear to God— —don't do that! — every time I look at a fucking tv, you're on it! shhh—watch your language! For what! You're on the Telivision, I'm not. You are on the Television! I'm not! —look just— trust me I don't have enough time before we're about to cut to co—[mmerciial!] [cuts to commercial] That dude is weird. Hm. That dude does look like Jimmy Fallon. — and one boss that looked like— Well, you get it. Yes he does. Very much so. Hm. Should I fuck him? Ew! No! What! Gross . No. Take his job! What? This incompetent drunken loser was, for a very short time— my manager. Just then when the car alarm when off, I express my not so subconscious, and must remark To remind my dear audience that this SUPACreature Is exponentially explicit, hence the Sexual exploitation of he who is hereby known As [Not] Jimmy Fallon. He was maybe the worst boss I ever had. If not the worse, definitely one of them. He was always drunk, Slept on the job, Was inappropriately explicit, Sexualized everything, And bitterly racist, Lived with his mother, Had social problems And was, Of course— Completely incompetent. Two hosts sit watching the serason premiere with popped corn. Oh. That's clever That's funny. See, those redactions could have been anybody. They were anybody. M— Jimmy!? Which Jimmy?! Last time I had a visionary dream about Jimmy Kimmel he was holding a white candle. At any rate, they were out of black, and I have no idea what that's supposed to mean, but I can only assume that when any host takes an extended hiatus, it's some kind of Contractual agreement. Ah-hem… Sign it. I don't know… about… that. And why not? This creature is one of the most powerful in the multiverse. [Jimmy Fallon] TINA FEY What. Are you serious. —and that's my time. Just trust me on this— NO. Pretty please! Oh, welL, since you made it pretty. Really? NO. Absolutely not. You are increasingly difficult. I learned to brew at thought at wishing wells Again, I gallop, striving to dance past the forced illusions of a non-corrupt decision, The end is near and also, simply The Division. ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: L E G E N D S — The Rock and And the Kite Part X: The Division Bell Part 10?! Yes. How is it part ten? Where are parts 6 through 9 I don't know. I have no clue. (You have no idea) Oh. I get it. The parenthesis are the voice of God. (It's all the voice of God, These are just more strong dictations.) Fix your diction! Fix your Dick Nixon if it don't swing left; On a finite curve, It switches with any direction, Irregular, my guest; I could have asked that. I have no tact, And no talent, No candles left, I can't relax! I just happen to have What I know I can't stand, And that's— High standards for a man. So I imagined a fantasy. My next run was scheduled for midnight but I'd spent the month suffocating and suffering in waist trainers navigating vampires and I had even been stood over by the actual Devil herself on the subway ride home. What even was the point of running all this way and eating all this well If no matter who I tried to love would really turn to the same old evil thing that wanted me dead in the first place? Being honest, I still didn't know what it was at all— but maybe it was always going to try to bite me no matter what I did. So It didn't matter much when the overdue balance came equal to the amount I needed to purchase club standard CDJs, I didn't care about anything because I was never treated fairly with honest or good intentions. Not even from my birth, or my mother, and perhaps that was the problem. My human perception of the world was trained by this thing who could never really see my value or worth in the way that it would take to be fully loved. Something was always wrong with me, and so something was always wrong with the world. All I knew was, I wasn't panicking though it had been an obvious attack— the email had sent as I orgasmed, after a series of the same old system of stress I'd been in for years— revving engines and long bangs and other methods of keeping me from reaching climax— but it was my body, and so just because I was under surveillance for whatever reason; perhaps they were listening and this self release made them uncomfortable, but I needed it. It had been years since my last loving embrace— since my last touch, or stroke, or kiss— and so yes, while admittedly my senses were out of place, they were also heightened in that I knew what was happening in my apartment was wrong, and the worse it got, the more I kept track of the things that were happening, the better off I'd eventually end up, just by respecting myself and my own time. I needed recovery; running down the the gym to be hatestalker by some half naked model or some egotistical little man throwing and slamming things around was going to do no better for my psyche even with a run considered; instead of a mile of mantras, it would instead become a mile of trying to ignore whatever whoever had followed me into the gym was doing to get my attention. Luckily I had a Peloton in my room and with any luck at all, by the afternoon I'd have all the focus in the world to ride it— but for now I was writing, and thinking, and feeling my insides out after a long month sonic alchemy, which had also resulted in my finally reaching the conclusion that I was indeed being followed around. But why? Lil bitz Yo imagine if Amazon had a comment section. Not like reviews but an actual like— Comment section for the ads and products. Don't act like it wouldn't be the little place to just, like, go. [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright The Festival Project, Inc. ™ & The Complex Collective © 2015-2025 All Rights Reserved

Maybe I'm not afraid because it just feels temporary. The noise in the apartment made it easy to let go, and better yet, because of the noise— the only way a pro bono lawyer might speak with me is if I was evicted— then, explaining away that from the day I moved into the apartment my mental health began to spiral and, that recovery from homelessness and having left an abusive relationship became impossible with motorcycles and modified cars circling like buzzards, gangsters slanging on the corner banging music I hated, and an all around environment of unwellness, in which I was unable to cope with the mechanisms of even the simplest tasks, after being bombarded by these hellish people. I was sure that speaking with one sort of lawyer and explaining my heavily documented case would eventually lead to meetings with another kind of lawyer who would see my case and agree that I had been attacked, and severely wounded— and eventually, probably, compensated. It simply wasn't facet of my imagination but seemed there was sort of hate group targeted to stalk and harass me— even in Manhattan, after visiting the Apple Store, a random pair of motorcycles approached and revved their engines thunderously as I walked back to the studio, even startling another passerby, as she shook her head as if to say “that was horrible”, with this look of fear and disgruntlement. It had been two years of this for me, though, and so I was somewhat used to it. It still hurt, but not the way it used to. Inside, sort of like the way a boxer knows how to take a punch because he's trained for it. But this was not my job, and I was not getting paid, unless I could actually put my mind together enough to assimilate some sort of strategy; a lawsuit against the property management and the city itself for allowing the harassment, and at the end of the day, it didn't much care who was responsible, and whether it was politics or street theatre— I just wanted it to stop. I could honestly say that any sort of legal action was indeed not about the money, but rather an escape. Would I live in New York if I did not have to? Not by any means, anyway, in the way I did. Just the view alone set me off, and anytime one of the foam panels fell out of the window from sun or dust and the lot of cars and busy intersection peered through, a gut wrenching anxiety came over me like the way it did when I first saw it; even then, when I first viewed the apartment, I knew that something bad had happened here before I even moved in— and it was bad, the constant motorcycle attacks, and at one point they were not at all writeable enough off as “normal noise”, the way they used to wait until I was almost a sleep to rip through the block and create sonic booms that sounded like bombs—eventually these kinds of attacks stopped but it was around the first year that I started to realize due to these series of traumas my brain was wired differently.i understood that she's were acts of war, but why? I had no intentions of stirring anything up in this place and honestly, from the start, because I was stuck, I had just wanted to get out. Hold on. I got two jokes. Ok. What was the one about— Oh, it's so simple but since they hate black women so much it would probably make a white audience laugh. My ex punched me so hard, I thought I was going to run for president in 2028. That's it? That's the joke. That not a joke. You're right. That's not a joke. I'm not though. I realized that. Please. Don't hit me. [beat] Unless you hit me hard enough that I actually become the actual president. Then, you're free to assassinate me. Thats the joke? Yeah. What a horrible joke. Yeah. Kind of. Okay. What's the other one? It's the—it's that enter the multiverse joke on the Sean Evans timeline. Ok. (Who is Sean Ryan) Idk. [Sean Ryan was the Showrunner of The Shield, Starring Michael Chiklis and Walton Goggins__which ran from 2001-2007, and also fostered the writing career of Kurt Sutter, who went on to create Sons of Anarchy.] Anyway. One of the contestants from hot ones calls Sean and goes, Sean! And Sean's like: Whaddup? Sean! How do you do this bro? [sean is eating ghost pepper cereal for breakfast with ice cold horchata ) Ew. Nice. It was gonna be milk but SEAN EVANS (Aside) The cinnamon gives it a nice schwing. Apparently, The training for hot ones is a non-stop tolerance-topper. Sean RYAN is always doing his best to outdo himself. Yeaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh! Thats right. Any fucking way. Sean! How do you do this everyday, buddy! Do what? My butthole is burning! I don't have one. You— what? I do not any longer have a butthole. Beg your pardon. I got it removed. What. What. Hold on, it's a multilayer joke. 2x Joke multiplier! Are we still playing this game? OH YEAH! goddamn. I really wanna see this fictional koolaid movie. WHERE'S SETH ROGEN? ROB LOWE is directing an episode of ENTER THE MULTIVERSE. DIRECTOR Quiet on Set! He turns to DRAKE BELL who is reprising his role as TIMMY TURNER. ROB LOWE Sorry, is that triggering to you? Nothing is said but instead he just shoots him a look. really on it with the zingers today. What can I say. I juice fasted and then ate like a normal person so maybe— I don't know. What's that supposed to mean. Everything is temporary. My next run isn't scheduled until after midnight but I might climb on the Peloton for an ironic spin. I owe everyone money. Not in the way that I ever wanted to be this bum, but in the way that all of my jobs have been awful enough that— honestly, I never quit, it just eventually all falls apart. I've been almost fondly remembering the— {Season 5} —summer in Las Vegas I had two awful jobs, no car, no place to live, and One boss who looked like Dillon Francis— And well. INT. LAS VEGAS ATHLETIC CLUB. WHENEVER. ITS OPEN 24 HOURS!!! WHEEEEEE!! Omg that guy looks just like Jimmy Fallon. BEFORE Oh, hi Jimmy. Hey! You finally noticed. I been noticing. You know I'm in a screen, right? You're in all the screens. Not all of them. ALL THE SCREENS A large wall of paneled Televisions hangs above the cardio center. … … MEANWHILE For while, the dude was everywhere. And I mean— Yo! I swear to God— —don't do that! — every time I look at a fucking tv, you're on it! shhh—watch your language! For what! You're on the Telivision, I'm not. You are on the Television! I'm not! —look just— trust me I don't have enough time before we're about to cut to co—[mmerciial!] [cuts to commercial] That dude is weird. Hm. That dude does look like Jimmy Fallon. — and one boss that looked like— Well, you get it. Yes he does. Very much so. Hm. Should I fuck him? Ew! No! What! Gross . No. Take his job! What? This incompetent drunken loser was, for a very short time— my manager. Just then when the car alarm when off, I express my not so subconscious, and must remark To remind my dear audience that this SUPACreature Is exponentially explicit, hence the Sexual exploitation of he who is hereby known As [Not] Jimmy Fallon. He was maybe the worst boss I ever had. If not the worse, definitely one of them. He was always drunk, Slept on the job, Was inappropriately explicit, Sexualized everything, And bitterly racist, Lived with his mother, Had social problems And was, Of course— Completely incompetent. Two hosts sit watching the serason premiere with popped corn. Oh. That's clever That's funny. See, those redactions could have been anybody. They were anybody. M— Jimmy!? Which Jimmy?! Last time I had a visionary dream about Jimmy Kimmel he was holding a white candle. At any rate, they were out of black, and I have no idea what that's supposed to mean, but I can only assume that when any host takes an extended hiatus, it's some kind of Contractual agreement. Ah-hem… Sign it. I don't know… about… that. And why not? This creature is one of the most powerful in the multiverse. [Jimmy Fallon] TINA FEY What. Are you serious. —and that's my time. Just trust me on this— NO. Pretty please! Oh, welL, since you made it pretty. Really? NO. Absolutely not. You are increasingly difficult. I learned to brew at thought at wishing wells Again, I gallop, striving to dance past the forced illusions of a non-corrupt decision, The end is near and also, simply The Division. ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: L E G E N D S — The Rock and And the Kite Part X: The Division Bell Part 10?! Yes. How is it part ten? Where are parts 6 through 9 I don't know. I have no clue. (You have no idea) Oh. I get it. The parenthesis are the voice of God. (It's all the voice of God, These are just more strong dictations.) Fix your diction! Fix your Dick Nixon if it don't swing left; On a finite curve, It switches with any direction, Irregular, my guest; I could have asked that. I have no tact, And no talent, No candles left, I can't relax! I just happen to have What I know I can't stand, And that's— High standards for a man. So I imagined a fantasy. My next run was scheduled for midnight but I'd spent the month suffocating and suffering in waist trainers navigating vampires and I had even been stood over by the actual Devil herself on the subway ride home. What even was the point of running all this way and eating all this well If no matter who I tried to love would really turn to the same old evil thing that wanted me dead in the first place? Being honest, I still didn't know what it was at all— but maybe it was always going to try to bite me no matter what I did. So It didn't matter much when the overdue balance came equal to the amount I needed to purchase club standard CDJs, I didn't care about anything because I was never treated fairly with honest or good intentions. Not even from my birth, or my mother, and perhaps that was the problem. My human perception of the world was trained by this thing who could never really see my value or worth in the way that it would take to be fully loved. Something was always wrong with me, and so something was always wrong with the world. All I knew was, I wasn't panicking though it had been an obvious attack— the email had sent as I orgasmed, after a series of the same old system of stress I'd been in for years— revving engines and long bangs and other methods of keeping me from reaching climax— but it was my body, and so just because I was under surveillance for whatever reason; perhaps they were listening and this self release made them uncomfortable, but I needed it. It had been years since my last loving embrace— since my last touch, or stroke, or kiss— and so yes, while admittedly my senses were out of place, they were also heightened in that I knew what was happening in my apartment was wrong, and the worse it got, the more I kept track of the things that were happening, the better off I'd eventually end up, just by respecting myself and my own time. I needed recovery; running down the the gym to be hatestalker by some half naked model or some egotistical little man throwing and slamming things around was going to do no better for my psyche even with a run considered; instead of a mile of mantras, it would instead become a mile of trying to ignore whatever whoever had followed me into the gym was doing to get my attention. Luckily I had a Peloton in my room and with any luck at all, by the afternoon I'd have all the focus in the world to ride it— but for now I was writing, and thinking, and feeling my insides out after a long month sonic alchemy, which had also resulted in my finally reaching the conclusion that I was indeed being followed around. But why? Lil bitz Yo imagine if Amazon had a comment section. Not like reviews but an actual like— Comment section for the ads and products. Don't act like it wouldn't be the little place to just, like, go. [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright The Festival Project, Inc. ™ & The Complex Collective © 2015-2025 All Rights Reserved

Pools of blood, And pools of dust, And fools, and fools, and fools Pools of love, And pools of list And tools and tools, and tools Pools of us, And Pools of hours And palms of pools D'hors Pools of plants, And pools of listen Pools and Pools and Pools Now, for us, what's at stake has come upon us For whether which now or ever ties have made for us to burn; Ne'er mistake there lust for listens and of ponders, Waterfalls of love and feathers, wanders Ties to honor stars and fore of fathers Almost lost it, there, I– Almost gathered, therefore. [ ] So to us who part ties, Of tied knots and of stomach's wrench To nourish shadows as remains her honor, I, depart my once, I, as flocking doves, The twist'of fated never Bare I fear or fonder Where, where, for again (bare tied as to none) and again wakes as has but not in time, to grove– The box I paved and yet, Set aside not as slabs of stone Or ash and fire But there i wake In cedar pine and oak The turn of slumber as the glow of what I once did not know, Now has shined against My eyes as water Luminescence Oh Goddamnit. Peaking pride, the oath Again i wait and ne'er did I come, but forth I woke, and also thought Not one but worlds of color, And there i know, to heart the seas I parted Not shallow or in shallows waking, red as scarlet blood but mauve, and then, the coping stays of which I gathered here has Agape and aching, wet with pride and courage Forefront others As thought to know, I, And I become, as known, now not and. “All White World” Our ENSEMBLE awakens slowly in the void of light; an all white space seemingly endless and drenched in blinding light; slowly awakening as if upon a cloud, and yet, washed in the drenched brightness of an all white world–familiar and together, but also new; The uniformity of all white attire and the simplicity of symmetry–all alike but of many and also one. I promise there's pancakes; I promise there's porridge I primise there's light at the end of the tunnel (the end of the night and beginning of brunch) And yes, I promise a run And a run for the office (not by far) And not unpardoned I promise to pray And I promise to wait And i promise to ache In the acres I've laid Made of all green pastures And days and days Without saying my name Pass us over Now…. Hiatus, Hiatus, Hiatus! My maples for all of us, cornbread And cream of the coconut (cream of the coconut) Screams from the underworld (Calling! They're calling) And trees of the very best kind; Plush with fruits What a prosperous product A merciless giving A scrupulous foreign (For four eyes, not one on my forehead) –policy! Don't you know, Conan, That all this goes over my– Over my over– Over my Over my head, –like a snowball? Don't you know, though, That nothing goes over his– Over his over– Over his Over his head –no one throws that high! (Not in softball!) ENSEMBLE What an apocalypse! What an apocalypse! What a protocol! What a dunce! What an oddball! Don't you know Nothing goes over Goes over Goes over us Nothing goes over us Nothing goes over Nothing goes over No bombs being dropped And the worst has to come because Nobody's turning this off; It's a turning point Not a mantra! It's a saga And nothing less short than a– Awful apocalypse; Long hiatus and no-low doses of Polymorohypothesis– Whatever that is! Don't you know, Conan, They're all going wrong with us. No, There's no knowing the coat From the hotbox, the hoot from the horus, the laugh from the chopsticks, The room full of products Or coatrooms of corpses No, There's no knowing us But out of nowhere The hour comes running upon us, And so The show must go on The show must go on The show must go…. DIRECTOR CUT! WHAT! That was FABULOUS! I don't disagree with you. However– What is it now? A MAN hangs by nothing but seemingly a very tightly buckled pair of restraints, above his head–the source of the object from which he hangs unknown, he appears to almost float, in fact, in quite the sufferable struggle. Holy fuck, guy. You're still up here? The VOICE comes from above but is yet unseen, it appears as though two very tidy clean white tennis shoes appear to be holding the straps of these restraints in place. CONT'D That's amazing. No false ties, And no hard wars, And no jolly ranchers, Gob stoppers, or nerf ropes. No fruit roll ups, No lunchables, or gushers No hamburger helper And no candy crush Just Drugs And more Drugs And more Drugs and more Morons Donuts, and drag queens, Tim Hortons, And Mormons; Mothballs, and Roaches, And horseflies, And rodents – Now guess which long road you're on (guess which long road you're on) Guess which long road you're aaaaahhhhhh– HALT. Who goes there. What the fuck is THIS. Finally, two acts past intermission, The troll under the bridge has put his cancer in remission The redactions have acted as class-action warfare, McDonalds has sponsored us, But barely. Look: just. No. I'm not endorsing this. Why. Because! It's killing people! Shh! It is! He–'s uh–joking. Actors! Improvising! Hush. Left and right! Speaking of left and right– You know who our sponsors are, right? Of coure! This nonsense! No! The– Shh–! –Owners of this product. Beg your pardon. Do you know who owns this brand and company? No. Well, do your research. Immediately. I highly recommend that. This seems serious. Serious as a heart attack. ACTION! Fuck you! Nuhhhhh–fuck you, you fucking fuck! Look, you lost, alright. Ughhhhhh. It's three to one. Three to one?! Yes. Fuck. Wait a–wait– What. Aren't there five of you guys? What? Huh-huh? No. Yes. There are. No. There's. Why. Five–of us–four of us You're lying. One, two, three *hiccups* four– Strike force “five”? I'm two guys! FUCK. We're missing one. Fuck. They figured us out. I figured out nothing. I'm drunk. I Fluffed. just know the difference–s between Five and One What. Four and Five! okay . Fuck. Well that's right. Well can't we just do it with us. NO! Why not. Because. the singularity has to be in the exact circumstance when this lightning strikes as the first one was. But– That's impossible. It's not–*hiccups*--umpossible. I was 9! “9 and a half!” “The half counts.” But not right now! Because i'm like a 60 year old guy! What! Gross. You're 60?! I think so! Then how old am I!?! I don't know! How old were you before!? I'm your brother! You don't know how old I am!? You're not my brother now, so maybe–I don't know–you never were! *gasps* take that bacK! [The boys fight amongst eachother] Fuck me, man. No thank you. What in the fuck did I write. I don't know but. CUT TO Ooh. Dice. DON'T TOUCH *poof* ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: L E G E N D S “The Magic Dice” (A Triad) NICE. FUCK yOu DUDE. nO fuck U U dElEETED My WRLD. THen is must not have been that great. *exaggerateD gasp* *even more exaggerated gasp* *Fluffs* *fluffs harder* *explodes* [The Festival Project ™ ] MEANWHILE The Aliens Are On A Pirate Ship, There's Still No Sign of [Redacted] and that's what this beat is called. -U. iS this a montage? Idk it just seems like a ship sinking in very slow motion. [A pirate ship full of aliens is sinking in very slow motion in a thunderous maelstrom.] (in IMAX 3D) Wow. I like that. This is fascinating. JIMMY KIMMEL is pacing relentlessly; he is driving the other hosts up a wall. KIMMEL I'm hungry, I want pants. I'm hungry– I want pants– Jimmy... KIMMEL I'm hungry– Jimmy! KIMMEL I want pants! JIMMY! KIMMEL WHAT! I'M HUNGRY AND I WANT PANTS! Oh, is that when— CRAIG FURGUSON has had enough. CRAIG You want bloody pants! KIMMEL YES! I WANT PANTS! CRAIG You know what! Fine! I'll make you some fucking pants if you just–shut UP! KIMMEL AND I'M HUNGRY. CRAIG FIRST THINGS FIRST! CRAIG FURGUSON assembles some very eclectic pants from the drapery inside the mansion; this of course reveals the windows to be boarded up in a highly distinct bunker-like maximum security prison-ish fashion, but THE HOSTS at the very least now have makeshift pants; which are startlingly fashionable: read: bohemian chic. Why do mine have beads still attached? He pulls the decorative ripchord and his fly opens promptly. Oh. CRAIG FURGUSON For emergencies. He continues pulling it in sequence with the matching lamp; he alternates turning the lights on and off and opening and shutting his pants flap in admiration. CRAIG FURGUSON CONT'D In case you really have to go. (Facinated) Ooh! CRAIG FURGUSON is satisfied with his work. CRAIG FURGUSON CONT'D I guess you could say, “The curtains match the drapes” CONAN O'BRIEN (beat) …not mine. {Enter The Multiverse} Fearsome, fearsome friends– Fearsome fearsome few Fearsome fearsome tears Listen whispers Fearsome twin Silly hollows All the lies All that waits is Hollywood and chosen five at ends of times All that waits are kings and wisdom All that knows are far, and farther All that needs is nothing, lessons All that fears is our kind Waiting. Shallow. Whispers, Gaining, Hornets nests and looming , gifted Shadow watchers Our time Farrows, Listen, Glistening as sparrows, Gifted– Kill God, There remains a far price There remains a far cry A call to wolves A false time The fabric is losts on Ghosts and Carry trains, Wishes and Tilted, Whisperers Before our Galaxy of Hard times and Wishes, Wishes, Wilting, Flowers, Waiting, Waiting And Waiting And Waiting And wanting but watching The water Gallons Fly up The wanted Waiting The gallows Have haunted us Far cries, Far cry Fear twins, have shattered To notice us Chatterbox Listens and Life turns and Waiting and Galaxies Gallantly Waiting The gallows Have haunted us Waiting And Waiting And Waiting and Water. We're watching you. An ACHINGLY TALL red-headed fellow finds himself in a FIGHT TO THE DEATH, being cast over eons and decades, and cascaded in and our of portals throughout the ever-infinite dimensional portals of unknown realms as his grasp on life itself and reality begins to fade as he crosses in and out of parallels, one galaxy to the next and one lifetime to another, gripping death and darkness in one hand and light and living in the other. In this bloody brawl, scrawling across an expanse of unknown and unknowable times and realms, this mystic remains still yet as infinite and omniscient in himself as the Gods he looks to for mercy, as the journey has been known to become of these very same deities in its context and process. A folding timeline of blood and sacrifice melds itself into the rope of the materiel worlds; not one fabric of time but many twisted and woven fibers into one rope from which he climbs into the ranks of the upperworld–or heaven, then also slipping seemingly sometimes into the depths of the underworld, a Hell known to all man as this, existence not as one but many consumed in the shadow processes of wickedness and torture, war amongst one another, and the well known humanities of pride, faith, justice and wealth. …this is supposed to be Conan? Uhh… “Achingly tall red-head?” yeah I guess. –O'Brien? [beat] He seems capable. Don't pity me, For not I weep of our pride on doorsteps not allowed, But for the grace and hope of fortune in another world i've known But lest forgotten; Do not feign me for my ignorance in desire, For I am not of man, or woman, or grain, or stone But of the world itself and all ire. (Don't doubt me.) To be cruel not those who pass judgement That weighs in this way or that is utmost critical, In this the end of times and now the end of my desires, And yet the way that I have known, And the offer I have rung Is not here, but elsewhere. And yea, I walk alone. Amen. What the fuck does this have to do with show hosts. Almost always Irish Catholic Almost Always clothed in robes Almost Always fathers, aren't I? Almost always old, of Rome. Almost always birds of feather Almost always sticks and stones Almost always on the airwaves Almost always silver, gold Slither, Slither, Here i wait And Slither slither, Here I came And whether she will slit her wrists Is neither here Nor either there It's a comfort that I offer you to slaughter; That you'd rather not to love but instead murder– I'd be better off to love, then kill you after, Course, tarantula, or just as well, a spider. It's a comfort that I offer you to kill me; Lay my head upon a sanded wooden platter– That you'd rather me to say I'd kill than love you– So I rather just to love, then murder after. Woah. Good to God, God ought to know. I close my palms together full of laughter, So. Good to God, God ought to know, I sacrified my life for ever after. So far. Good to God, God ought to know, That all he wants, I want My heart is surely shattered. Now what. Good as God, God ought to know, That all I want becomes; The looking glass, The wishing well, The cross to bare The shepherd to the pasture. Amen. Omen. All men. Want none. But one. But– So. [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS W E L C O M E -Ū. Copyright The Festival Project, Inc. ™ & The Complex Collective © 2015-2025 All Rights Reserved B A C K Tales of A Superstar DJ

Maybe I'm not afraid because it just feels temporary. The noise in the apartment made it easy to let go, and better yet, because of the noise— the only way a pro bono lawyer might speak with me is if I was evicted— then, explaining away that from the day I moved into the apartment my mental health began to spiral and, that recovery from homelessness and having left an abusive relationship became impossible with motorcycles and modified cars circling like buzzards, gangsters slanging on the corner banging music I hated, and an all around environment of unwellness, in which I was unable to cope with the mechanisms of even the simplest tasks, after being bombarded by these hellish people. I was sure that speaking with one sort of lawyer and explaining my heavily documented case would eventually lead to meetings with another kind of lawyer who would see my case and agree that I had been attacked, and severely wounded— and eventually, probably, compensated. It simply wasn't facet of my imagination but seemed there was sort of hate group targeted to stalk and harass me— even in Manhattan, after visiting the Apple Store, a random pair of motorcycles approached and revved their engines thunderously as I walked back to the studio, even startling another passerby, as she shook her head as if to say “that was horrible”, with this look of fear and disgruntlement. It had been two years of this for me, though, and so I was somewhat used to it. It still hurt, but not the way it used to. Inside, sort of like the way a boxer knows how to take a punch because he's trained for it. But this was not my job, and I was not getting paid, unless I could actually put my mind together enough to assimilate some sort of strategy; a lawsuit against the property management and the city itself for allowing the harassment, and at the end of the day, it didn't much care who was responsible, and whether it was politics or street theatre— I just wanted it to stop. I could honestly say that any sort of legal action was indeed not about the money, but rather an escape. Would I live in New York if I did not have to? Not by any means, anyway, in the way I did. Just the view alone set me off, and anytime one of the foam panels fell out of the window from sun or dust and the lot of cars and busy intersection peered through, a gut wrenching anxiety came over me like the way it did when I first saw it; even then, when I first viewed the apartment, I knew that something bad had happened here before I even moved in— and it was bad, the constant motorcycle attacks, and at one point they were not at all writeable enough off as “normal noise”, the way they used to wait until I was almost a sleep to rip through the block and create sonic booms that sounded like bombs—eventually these kinds of attacks stopped but it was around the first year that I started to realize due to these series of traumas my brain was wired differently.i understood that she's were acts of war, but why? I had no intentions of stirring anything up in this place and honestly, from the start, because I was stuck, I had just wanted to get out. Hold on. I got two jokes. Ok. What was the one about— Oh, it's so simple but since they hate black women so much it would probably make a white audience laugh. My ex punched me so hard, I thought I was going to run for president in 2028. That's it? That's the joke. That not a joke. You're right. That's not a joke. I'm not though. I realized that. Please. Don't hit me. [beat] Unless you hit me hard enough that I actually become the actual president. Then, you're free to assassinate me. Thats the joke? Yeah. What a horrible joke. Yeah. Kind of. Okay. What's the other one? It's the—it's that enter the multiverse joke on the Sean Evans timeline. Ok. (Who is Sean Ryan) Idk. [Sean Ryan was the Showrunner of The Shield, Starring Michael Chiklis and Walton Goggins__which ran from 2001-2007, and also fostered the writing career of Kurt Sutter, who went on to create Sons of Anarchy.] Anyway. One of the contestants from hot ones calls Sean and goes, Sean! And Sean's like: Whaddup? Sean! How do you do this bro? [sean is eating ghost pepper cereal for breakfast with ice cold horchata ) Ew. Nice. It was gonna be milk but SEAN EVANS (Aside) The cinnamon gives it a nice schwing. Apparently, The training for hot ones is a non-stop tolerance-topper. Sean RYAN is always doing his best to outdo himself. Yeaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh! Thats right. Any fucking way. Sean! How do you do this everyday, buddy! Do what? My butthole is burning! I don't have one. You— what? I do not any longer have a butthole. Beg your pardon. I got it removed. What. What. Hold on, it's a multilayer joke. 2x Joke multiplier! Are we still playing this game? OH YEAH! goddamn. I really wanna see this fictional koolaid movie. WHERE'S SETH ROGEN? ROB LOWE is directing an episode of ENTER THE MULTIVERSE. DIRECTOR Quiet on Set! He turns to DRAKE BELL who is reprising his role as TIMMY TURNER. ROB LOWE Sorry, is that triggering to you? Nothing is said but instead he just shoots him a look. really on it with the zingers today. What can I say. I juice fasted and then ate like a normal person so maybe— I don't know. What's that supposed to mean. Everything is temporary. My next run isn't scheduled until after midnight but I might climb on the Peloton for an ironic spin. I owe everyone money. Not in the way that I ever wanted to be this bum, but in the way that all of my jobs have been awful enough that— honestly, I never quit, it just eventually all falls apart. I've been almost fondly remembering the— {Season 5} —summer in Las Vegas I had two awful jobs, no car, no place to live, and One boss who looked like Dillon Francis— And well. INT. LAS VEGAS ATHLETIC CLUB. WHENEVER. ITS OPEN 24 HOURS!!! WHEEEEEE!! Omg that guy looks just like Jimmy Fallon. BEFORE Oh, hi Jimmy. Hey! You finally noticed. I been noticing. You know I'm in a screen, right? You're in all the screens. Not all of them. ALL THE SCREENS A large wall of paneled Televisions hangs above the cardio center. … … MEANWHILE For while, the dude was everywhere. And I mean— Yo! I swear to God— —don't do that! — every time I look at a fucking tv, you're on it! shhh—watch your language! For what! You're on the Telivision, I'm not. You are on the Television! I'm not! —look just— trust me I don't have enough time before we're about to cut to co—[mmerciial!] [cuts to commercial] That dude is weird. Hm. That dude does look like Jimmy Fallon. — and one boss that looked like— Well, you get it. Yes he does. Very much so. Hm. Should I fuck him? Ew! No! What! Gross . No. Take his job! What? This incompetent drunken loser was, for a very short time— my manager. Just then when the car alarm when off, I express my not so subconscious, and must remark To remind my dear audience that this SUPACreature Is exponentially explicit, hence the Sexual exploitation of he who is hereby known As [Not] Jimmy Fallon. He was maybe the worst boss I ever had. If not the worse, definitely one of them. He was always drunk, Slept on the job, Was inappropriately explicit, Sexualized everything, And bitterly racist, Lived with his mother, Had social problems And was, Of course— Completely incompetent. Two hosts sit watching the serason premiere with popped corn. Oh. That's clever That's funny. See, those redactions could have been anybody. They were anybody. M— Jimmy!? Which Jimmy?! Last time I had a visionary dream about Jimmy Kimmel he was holding a white candle. At any rate, they were out of black, and I have no idea what that's supposed to mean, but I can only assume that when any host takes an extended hiatus, it's some kind of Contractual agreement. Ah-hem… Sign it. I don't know… about… that. And why not? This creature is one of the most powerful in the multiverse. [Jimmy Fallon] TINA FEY What. Are you serious. —and that's my time. Just trust me on this— NO. Pretty please! Oh, welL, since you made it pretty. Really? NO. Absolutely not. You are increasingly difficult. I learned to brew at thought at wishing wells Again, I gallop, striving to dance past the forced illusions of a non-corrupt decision, The end is near and also, simply The Division. ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: L E G E N D S — The Rock and And the Kite Part X: The Division Bell Part 10?! Yes. How is it part ten? Where are parts 6 through 9 I don't know. I have no clue. (You have no idea) Oh. I get it. The parenthesis are the voice of God. (It's all the voice of God, These are just more strong dictations.) Fix your diction! Fix your Dick Nixon if it don't swing left; On a finite curve, It switches with any direction, Irregular, my guest; I could have asked that. I have no tact, And no talent, No candles left, I can't relax! I just happen to have What I know I can't stand, And that's— High standards for a man. So I imagined a fantasy. My next run was scheduled for midnight but I'd spent the month suffocating and suffering in waist trainers navigating vampires and I had even been stood over by the actual Devil herself on the subway ride home. What even was the point of running all this way and eating all this well If no matter who I tried to love would really turn to the same old evil thing that wanted me dead in the first place? Being honest, I still didn't know what it was at all— but maybe it was always going to try to bite me no matter what I did. So It didn't matter much when the overdue balance came equal to the amount I needed to purchase club standard CDJs, I didn't care about anything because I was never treated fairly with honest or good intentions. Not even from my birth, or my mother, and perhaps that was the problem. My human perception of the world was trained by this thing who could never really see my value or worth in the way that it would take to be fully loved. Something was always wrong with me, and so something was always wrong with the world. All I knew was, I wasn't panicking though it had been an obvious attack— the email had sent as I orgasmed, after a series of the same old system of stress I'd been in for years— revving engines and long bangs and other methods of keeping me from reaching climax— but it was my body, and so just because I was under surveillance for whatever reason; perhaps they were listening and this self release made them uncomfortable, but I needed it. It had been years since my last loving embrace— since my last touch, or stroke, or kiss— and so yes, while admittedly my senses were out of place, they were also heightened in that I knew what was happening in my apartment was wrong, and the worse it got, the more I kept track of the things that were happening, the better off I'd eventually end up, just by respecting myself and my own time. I needed recovery; running down the the gym to be hatestalker by some half naked model or some egotistical little man throwing and slamming things around was going to do no better for my psyche even with a run considered; instead of a mile of mantras, it would instead become a mile of trying to ignore whatever whoever had followed me into the gym was doing to get my attention. Luckily I had a Peloton in my room and with any luck at all, by the afternoon I'd have all the focus in the world to ride it— but for now I was writing, and thinking, and feeling my insides out after a long month sonic alchemy, which had also resulted in my finally reaching the conclusion that I was indeed being followed around. But why? Lil bitz Yo imagine if Amazon had a comment section. Not like reviews but an actual like— Comment section for the ads and products. Don't act like it wouldn't be the little place to just, like, go. [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright The Festival Project, Inc. ™ & The Complex Collective © 2015-2025 All Rights Reserved

Pools of blood, And pools of dust, And fools, and fools, and fools Pools of love, And pools of list And tools and tools, and tools Pools of us, And Pools of hours And palms of pools D'hors Pools of plants, And pools of listen Pools and Pools and Pools Now, for us, what's at stake has come upon us For whether which now or ever ties have made for us to burn; Ne'er mistake there lust for listens and of ponders, Waterfalls of love and feathers, wanders Ties to honor stars and fore of fathers Almost lost it, there, I– Almost gathered, therefore. [ ] So to us who part ties, Of tied knots and of stomach's wrench To nourish shadows as remains her honor, I, depart my once, I, as flocking doves, The twist'of fated never Bare I fear or fonder Where, where, for again (bare tied as to none) and again wakes as has but not in time, to grove– The box I paved and yet, Set aside not as slabs of stone Or ash and fire But there i wake In cedar pine and oak The turn of slumber as the glow of what I once did not know, Now has shined against My eyes as water Luminescence Oh Goddamnit. Peaking pride, the oath Again i wait and ne'er did I come, but forth I woke, and also thought Not one but worlds of color, And there i know, to heart the seas I parted Not shallow or in shallows waking, red as scarlet blood but mauve, and then, the coping stays of which I gathered here has Agape and aching, wet with pride and courage Forefront others As thought to know, I, And I become, as known, now not and. “All White World” Our ENSEMBLE awakens slowly in the void of light; an all white space seemingly endless and drenched in blinding light; slowly awakening as if upon a cloud, and yet, washed in the drenched brightness of an all white world–familiar and together, but also new; The uniformity of all white attire and the simplicity of symmetry–all alike but of many and also one. I promise there's pancakes; I promise there's porridge I primise there's light at the end of the tunnel (the end of the night and beginning of brunch) And yes, I promise a run And a run for the office (not by far) And not unpardoned I promise to pray And I promise to wait And i promise to ache In the acres I've laid Made of all green pastures And days and days Without saying my name Pass us over Now…. Hiatus, Hiatus, Hiatus! My maples for all of us, cornbread And cream of the coconut (cream of the coconut) Screams from the underworld (Calling! They're calling) And trees of the very best kind; Plush with fruits What a prosperous product A merciless giving A scrupulous foreign (For four eyes, not one on my forehead) –policy! Don't you know, Conan, That all this goes over my– Over my over– Over my Over my head, –like a snowball? Don't you know, though, That nothing goes over his– Over his over– Over his Over his head –no one throws that high! (Not in softball!) ENSEMBLE What an apocalypse! What an apocalypse! What a protocol! What a dunce! What an oddball! Don't you know Nothing goes over Goes over Goes over us Nothing goes over us Nothing goes over Nothing goes over No bombs being dropped And the worst has to come because Nobody's turning this off; It's a turning point Not a mantra! It's a saga And nothing less short than a– Awful apocalypse; Long hiatus and no-low doses of Polymorohypothesis– Whatever that is! Don't you know, Conan, They're all going wrong with us. No, There's no knowing the coat From the hotbox, the hoot from the horus, the laugh from the chopsticks, The room full of products Or coatrooms of corpses No, There's no knowing us But out of nowhere The hour comes running upon us, And so The show must go on The show must go on The show must go…. DIRECTOR CUT! WHAT! That was FABULOUS! I don't disagree with you. However– What is it now? A MAN hangs by nothing but seemingly a very tightly buckled pair of restraints, above his head–the source of the object from which he hangs unknown, he appears to almost float, in fact, in quite the sufferable struggle. Holy fuck, guy. You're still up here? The VOICE comes from above but is yet unseen, it appears as though two very tidy clean white tennis shoes appear to be holding the straps of these restraints in place. CONT'D That's amazing. No false ties, And no hard wars, And no jolly ranchers, Gob stoppers, or nerf ropes. No fruit roll ups, No lunchables, or gushers No hamburger helper And no candy crush Just Drugs And more Drugs And more Drugs and more Morons Donuts, and drag queens, Tim Hortons, And Mormons; Mothballs, and Roaches, And horseflies, And rodents – Now guess which long road you're on (guess which long road you're on) Guess which long road you're aaaaahhhhhh– HALT. Who goes there. What the fuck is THIS. Finally, two acts past intermission, The troll under the bridge has put his cancer in remission The redactions have acted as class-action warfare, McDonalds has sponsored us, But barely. Look: just. No. I'm not endorsing this. Why. Because! It's killing people! Shh! It is! He–'s uh–joking. Actors! Improvising! Hush. Left and right! Speaking of left and right– You know who our sponsors are, right? Of coure! This nonsense! No! The– Shh–! –Owners of this product. Beg your pardon. Do you know who owns this brand and company? No. Well, do your research. Immediately. I highly recommend that. This seems serious. Serious as a heart attack. ACTION! Fuck you! Nuhhhhh–fuck you, you fucking fuck! Look, you lost, alright. Ughhhhhh. It's three to one. Three to one?! Yes. Fuck. Wait a–wait– What. Aren't there five of you guys? What? Huh-huh? No. Yes. There are. No. There's. Why. Five–of us–four of us You're lying. One, two, three *hiccups* four– Strike force “five”? I'm two guys! FUCK. We're missing one. Fuck. They figured us out. I figured out nothing. I'm drunk. I Fluffed. just know the difference–s between Five and One What. Four and Five! okay . Fuck. Well that's right. Well can't we just do it with us. NO! Why not. Because. the singularity has to be in the exact circumstance when this lightning strikes as the first one was. But– That's impossible. It's not–*hiccups*--umpossible. I was 9! “9 and a half!” “The half counts.” But not right now! Because i'm like a 60 year old guy! What! Gross. You're 60?! I think so! Then how old am I!?! I don't know! How old were you before!? I'm your brother! You don't know how old I am!? You're not my brother now, so maybe–I don't know–you never were! *gasps* take that bacK! [The boys fight amongst eachother] Fuck me, man. No thank you. What in the fuck did I write. I don't know but. CUT TO Ooh. Dice. DON'T TOUCH *poof* ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: L E G E N D S “The Magic Dice” (A Triad) NICE. FUCK yOu DUDE. nO fuck U U dElEETED My WRLD. THen is must not have been that great. *exaggerateD gasp* *even more exaggerated gasp* *Fluffs* *fluffs harder* *explodes* [The Festival Project ™ ] MEANWHILE The Aliens Are On A Pirate Ship, There's Still No Sign of [Redacted] and that's what this beat is called. -U. iS this a montage? Idk it just seems like a ship sinking in very slow motion. [A pirate ship full of aliens is sinking in very slow motion in a thunderous maelstrom.] (in IMAX 3D) Wow. I like that. This is fascinating. JIMMY KIMMEL is pacing relentlessly; he is driving the other hosts up a wall. KIMMEL I'm hungry, I want pants. I'm hungry– I want pants– Jimmy... KIMMEL I'm hungry– Jimmy! KIMMEL I want pants! JIMMY! KIMMEL WHAT! I'M HUNGRY AND I WANT PANTS! Oh, is that when— CRAIG FURGUSON has had enough. CRAIG You want bloody pants! KIMMEL YES! I WANT PANTS! CRAIG You know what! Fine! I'll make you some fucking pants if you just–shut UP! KIMMEL AND I'M HUNGRY. CRAIG FIRST THINGS FIRST! CRAIG FURGUSON assembles some very eclectic pants from the drapery inside the mansion; this of course reveals the windows to be boarded up in a highly distinct bunker-like maximum security prison-ish fashion, but THE HOSTS at the very least now have makeshift pants; which are startlingly fashionable: read: bohemian chic. Why do mine have beads still attached? He pulls the decorative ripchord and his fly opens promptly. Oh. CRAIG FURGUSON For emergencies. He continues pulling it in sequence with the matching lamp; he alternates turning the lights on and off and opening and shutting his pants flap in admiration. CRAIG FURGUSON CONT'D In case you really have to go. (Facinated) Ooh! CRAIG FURGUSON is satisfied with his work. CRAIG FURGUSON CONT'D I guess you could say, “The curtains match the drapes” CONAN O'BRIEN (beat) …not mine. {Enter The Multiverse} Fearsome, fearsome friends– Fearsome fearsome few Fearsome fearsome tears Listen whispers Fearsome twin Silly hollows All the lies All that waits is Hollywood and chosen five at ends of times All that waits are kings and wisdom All that knows are far, and farther All that needs is nothing, lessons All that fears is our kind Waiting. Shallow. Whispers, Gaining, Hornets nests and looming , gifted Shadow watchers Our time Farrows, Listen, Glistening as sparrows, Gifted– Kill God, There remains a far price There remains a far cry A call to wolves A false time The fabric is losts on Ghosts and Carry trains, Wishes and Tilted, Whisperers Before our Galaxy of Hard times and Wishes, Wishes, Wilting, Flowers, Waiting, Waiting And Waiting And Waiting And wanting but watching The water Gallons Fly up The wanted Waiting The gallows Have haunted us Far cries, Far cry Fear twins, have shattered To notice us Chatterbox Listens and Life turns and Waiting and Galaxies Gallantly Waiting The gallows Have haunted us Waiting And Waiting And Waiting and Water. We're watching you. An ACHINGLY TALL red-headed fellow finds himself in a FIGHT TO THE DEATH, being cast over eons and decades, and cascaded in and our of portals throughout the ever-infinite dimensional portals of unknown realms as his grasp on life itself and reality begins to fade as he crosses in and out of parallels, one galaxy to the next and one lifetime to another, gripping death and darkness in one hand and light and living in the other. In this bloody brawl, scrawling across an expanse of unknown and unknowable times and realms, this mystic remains still yet as infinite and omniscient in himself as the Gods he looks to for mercy, as the journey has been known to become of these very same deities in its context and process. A folding timeline of blood and sacrifice melds itself into the rope of the materiel worlds; not one fabric of time but many twisted and woven fibers into one rope from which he climbs into the ranks of the upperworld–or heaven, then also slipping seemingly sometimes into the depths of the underworld, a Hell known to all man as this, existence not as one but many consumed in the shadow processes of wickedness and torture, war amongst one another, and the well known humanities of pride, faith, justice and wealth. …this is supposed to be Conan? Uhh… “Achingly tall red-head?” yeah I guess. –O'Brien? [beat] He seems capable. Don't pity me, For not I weep of our pride on doorsteps not allowed, But for the grace and hope of fortune in another world i've known But lest forgotten; Do not feign me for my ignorance in desire, For I am not of man, or woman, or grain, or stone But of the world itself and all ire. (Don't doubt me.) To be cruel not those who pass judgement That weighs in this way or that is utmost critical, In this the end of times and now the end of my desires, And yet the way that I have known, And the offer I have rung Is not here, but elsewhere. And yea, I walk alone. Amen. What the fuck does this have to do with show hosts. Almost always Irish Catholic Almost Always clothed in robes Almost Always fathers, aren't I? Almost always old, of Rome. Almost always birds of feather Almost always sticks and stones Almost always on the airwaves Almost always silver, gold Slither, Slither, Here i wait And Slither slither, Here I came And whether she will slit her wrists Is neither here Nor either there It's a comfort that I offer you to slaughter; That you'd rather not to love but instead murder– I'd be better off to love, then kill you after, Course, tarantula, or just as well, a spider. It's a comfort that I offer you to kill me; Lay my head upon a sanded wooden platter– That you'd rather me to say I'd kill than love you– So I rather just to love, then murder after. Woah. Good to God, God ought to know. I close my palms together full of laughter, So. Good to God, God ought to know, I sacrified my life for ever after. So far. Good to God, God ought to know, That all he wants, I want My heart is surely shattered. Now what. Good as God, God ought to know, That all I want becomes; The looking glass, The wishing well, The cross to bare The shepherd to the pasture. Amen. Omen. All men. Want none. But one. But– So. [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS W E L C O M E -Ū. Copyright The Festival Project, Inc. ™ & The Complex Collective © 2015-2025 All Rights Reserved B A C K Tales of A Superstar DJ

En este episodio de La vida es un teatro, Víctor Hugo Sánchez nos lleva de la mano a uno de los montajes más crudos, sinceros y conmovedores de la escena independiente: “Sorry”, escrita, actuada y producida por la talentosa Tania Ángeles Begún.Una historia que sacude desde la entraña, sobre dos jóvenes atrapados entre el amor y el caos, entre la fiesta desbordada y la responsabilidad no asumida. “Sorry” nos enfrenta a las heridas que deja la adicción, la violencia silenciosa de una infancia rota y las decisiones que marcan generaciones enteras.Con actuaciones potentes, un lenguaje visual cargado de referencias cinematográficas y una estructura no lineal que obliga a mirar con otros ojos, esta obra se convierte en una experiencia escénica imprescindible.Un retrato doloroso y feroz de lo que significa amar mal, crecer torcido y buscar redención. Una función única que no se puede dejar pasar.

rWotD Episode 2983: Amanikhatashan Welcome to random Wiki of the Day, your journey through Wikipedia's vast and varied content, one random article at a time.The random article for Friday, 4 July 2025, is Amanikhatashan.Amanikhatashan was a queen regnant of the Kingdom of Kush, probably ruling in the middle 2nd century CE. Amanikhatashan is known only from her tomb in Meroë, designated as Beg. N 18.The objects found in Amanikhatashan's tomb place her as reigning at some point in the first or second centuries CE. The artwork in the tomb is stylistically close to the artwork in the tomb Beg. N 16, which suggests that Amanikhatashan reigned close to the ruler buried in that tomb. Beg. N 16 may have belonged to King Amanikhareqerem and dates to the end of the 1st century CE. Assuming a mid-2nd century CE reign, Amanikhatashan is conventionally (speculatively) placed as the successor of Amanitenmemide and the predecessor of Tarekeniwal.This recording reflects the Wikipedia text as of 00:38 UTC on Friday, 4 July 2025.For the full current version of the article, see Amanikhatashan on Wikipedia.This podcast uses content from Wikipedia under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.Visit our archives at wikioftheday.com and subscribe to stay updated on new episodes.Follow us on Mastodon at @wikioftheday@masto.ai.Also check out Curmudgeon's Corner, a current events podcast.Until next time, I'm standard Joey.

Jason Fraley interviews Otis Williams, last surviving original member of The Temptations, which performs live at “A Capitol Fourth” in Washington D.C. tomorrow at 8 p.m. on PBS. They discuss classic Motown hits like “My Girl,” “The Way You Do the Things You Do,” “Get Ready” and “Ain't Too Proud to Beg,” as well as evolving into a new era with “Cloud Nine,” “Ball of Confusion,” “Just My Imagination” and “Papa Was a Rolling Stone.”  (Theme Music: Scott Buckley's "Clarion")

  BOSSes Anne Ganguzza and Lau Lapides share an inspiring and candid conversation about the challenges and triumphs of leveling up your business. Anne opens up about her personal journey of growth, from small changes in her Pilates class to taking a significant leap in her company, battling the fear and discomfort that often accompany evolution. This episode offers profound insights into navigating change, the vital role of a supportive team, and the power of embracing risk for long-term success. Listeners will gain actionable wisdom on recognizing their own self-imposed limitations, the importance of strategic planning, and understanding that growth, while sometimes terrifying, is essential for avoiding stagnancy.   00:24 - Announcer: It's time to take your business to the next level—the boss level. These are the premier business owner strategies and successes being utilized by the industry's top talent today. Rock your business like a boss, a VO Boss. Now, let's welcome your host, Anne Ganguzza. 00:44 - Anne (Host): Hey everyone, welcome to the VO Boss Podcast. I'm your host, Anne Ganguzza, and I am here with Lau Lapides in our Boss Superpower Series. Hey Lau, hey Anne. 00:54 - Lau (Guest): I'm so excited to be back. It's been a while, you know. It seems like it's been forever years. It hasn't been, it's been years, but it feels like that. 01:04 - Anne (Host): I'm going to say a lot has happened, and so I brought props to show you. So I have... actually, I love props. I care my props. I have actually leveled up, okay? So in many ways. So I have my three-pound weight and I have my five-pound weight. So in my Pilates class, I finally leveled up because when they say grab your light weights, I went from three pounds to five pounds. 01:26 - Lau (Guest): You're now a heavyweight. 01:28 - Anne (Host): Well... I don't know if it's heavyweight, but now, right, it's a change. I've leveled up, and while it may not seem like a lot over the long haul, guess what? It's going to mean a whole lot. And I thought it was such a great comparison for our businesses and how we can make simple little changes. And those simple little changes over time are going to make an amazing difference. And I even got like excited, and I wrote, "No sacrifice, no success." And then here's my little boot necklace to like kick myself in the butt to remind myself. 02:00 - Lau (Guest): We all need that, Annie, we all need that. 02:02 - Anne (Host): I love that, to do that, yeah. So I've taken some chances with my business, and I have done some things. I've made some changes, some not so small, but they've been coming for a while. In my head, they were small, and over time they evolved into a kind of, maybe, a bigger idea for a bigger vision for my company. And I thought it would be great to just talk about the process because it's not easy to level up. 02:27 - Lau (Guest): Oh, it's no, it's not the most challenging thing you can do. And it's funny how you have the thought, the imagination, the dream, which has nothing to do with the actual reality of doing it, right? So you're moving through that reality. 02:40 - Anne (Host): I consider the brain, right? My brain steps, my little steps over time, because I've been thinking about how am I evolving, how am I going to level up, how am I going to make these changes? And so in my head, I was making small changes, right? Until finally, I started implementing those small changes, and then kind of as a, I guess maybe a side effect or after effect of those small changes, then I needed to make bigger changes. And so now I have to say that through the process, it's been definitely a learning process, not only for... I like to say I have a clear direction of where I want to go, I know that, but also things have happened that have been, I guess, scary. They've been monumental, like growing challenges for me, but also moments where I've been... Oh, I get it now! 03:31 - Lau (Guest): Yes, let's hear, what are some of those aha discovery moments for you that caught you? 03:31 - Anne (Host): So the aha discovery, right? The aha discovery of evolving your business and always growing, and I'm always talking about that, right? I'm always talking about evolving, and I'm like, "Oh, I got an idea for this, I got an idea for that." I'm a little bit of a serial entrepreneur, but when it comes right down to it, I think that a big aha moment for me was in the process of doing this, is that I've learned a lot about myself, and I've learned where I myself get in my own way, right? I myself get in my own way, right? And I like to think that I don't, and that I'm all confident, and I'm... Yes, we can forge forward and be successful. But yet there's been some times where I'm like, "Well, am I doing the right thing?" And I second-guess myself, and then when I do that, I learn more about myself. Yes, and so it's really been a learning experience about myself and how there are ways in which I hold myself back, and how when it comes to growing your business, the team that you have in place can do a lot to support you. 04:33 - Lau (Guest): Now, before you go on, Annie, I want to know on a scale of one to 10, 10 being the most terrorizing, before you made the move, because a lot of our clients and talent ask us about this, like, "How do I make these really serious and scary moves?" How scared, terrorized, were you at the thought of that kind of change, which is semi-radical, especially when you're working with people for quite a while? How scared were you? 04:59 - Anne (Host): Terrified, terrified. I mean, terrified. It was a 10. It was a 10. Stress level eating, do you know what I mean? 05:05 - Lau (Guest): Well, thank you for being honest, I would agree. 05:07 - Anne (Host): I think it's true. Headache, neck ache. It never gets easier. No, it never gets easier. 05:12 - Lau (Guest): It's always a risk, a huge risk. 05:15 - Anne (Host): And we've talked about this. It's not like uncommon that we've talked about like taking risks and stuff like that. And even before, I was like, "Yeah, we take risks, we're bosses." And this time I took a big risk, and I think that I really challenged myself to take a big risk. And is it completely successful? I don't know yet, you know what I mean? It's evolving. 05:34 - Lau (Guest): And that's the nature of risk. If you knew, it wouldn't be a risk. 05:37 - Anne (Host): Exactly. I mean, I'm evolving with it, I'm growing with it, and I have faith that I'm determined that it will evolve into something successful for me, and so that I have. But the terror along the way has been surprising. 05:53 - Lau (Guest): Yes, yes, because it never gets easier. It never gets better. No, right? It just gets more, higher stakes, and it's funny. The stakes get higher. Yeah, and it's funny, what were the stakes for you this time around? Can you like break it down for the listeners? How did that work? 06:07 - Anne (Host): I'm going to keep going back to here, like right. So we all know my health journey, right? And my health journey took about a year and a half, right? To kind of come to fruition and get the news that, you know, I was not well, healthy, and I needed to do something about it. And then get to work, right? Focus, get to work. And so I was driven. I had a goal. I was driven. I didn't stop until I got to that goal. And then all of a sudden, I got to the goal and I'm like, "Wait, I have more goals." 06:34 - Anne (Host): And so my three-pound weight was always my weight that when the Pilates instructor said, "Go grab your light weights," I said, "Okay, three pounds," right? Three pounds is what? Before it was like one pound, I'm not quite sure if it might've been two pounds. Then I said, "All right, I'm going to graduate to three." But then just this past week I went to a five, and I said, for whatever it was, I had been thinking about it and thinking about it and thinking about it. Similar to my business. Right? I was thinking about the moves, I was stressing, I was nervous, I was like debating, I was researching, I did all the things in my head to evolve, and then finally, I took the leap. And so this past Wednesday, I took the leap, and I went to five pounds. Isn't that great? And it wasn't horrible, and it wasn't horrible. And now I know that there will be days when I'm not going to want to do the five pounds, but I'm going to push myself to do the five pounds. 07:24 - Lau (Guest): You're going to push, but there was something inside of you. 07:26 - Announcer: This is something I think the listeners have to know this. 07:29 - Lau (Guest): There was something inside of you, this little voice, that somehow knew that you could take it on. 07:34 - Anne (Host): And today was the day you could handle it, even though you felt nervous, scared, and with weights, you actually can get hurt, physically hurt, right? 07:44 - Lau (Guest): So of course you're not lifting 150 pounds, but you can still hurt yourself, right? Exactly. Well, let's transfer that now to your business. 07:52 - Anne (Host): Yeah, I mean, and it was funny because I thought about it, thought about it, thought about it, strategized, strategized, said, "Yes, I should. No, I shouldn't. Yes, I should." Today's the day. 08:00 - Lau (Guest): The back and forth, right, Annie? The back and forth. Yes, no. 08:02 - Anne (Host): And then I said, "Today's the day." Today is the day, right? And so literally, that's kind of what happened when I made the decision after I had been thinking about it, researching, going back and forth, "Okay, I'm going to do it," and then I started it, and it was like building a muscle, right? So I'm still in the process of building the muscle of my business and getting through the growth, right? So I'm going to grow my muscle with my five-pound weight. 08:29 - Anne (Host): I'm going to grow my business, right, with my growth strategy, and it's terrifying, it's uncomfortable, right? It's uncomfortable, but there are little successes that I'm seeing along the way, and that makes me happy, and that gives me the confidence to move on and to continue on my journey. And I know in my heart, right, I will make it work for me in the way that it's best. I think the one thing, Lau, which is interesting, is I always have to figure out what's the fallback, right? What's the worst-case scenario, and can I accept the worst-case scenario? 09:02 - Lau (Guest): What is the worst-case scenario? 09:02 - Anne (Host): The worst-case scenario was I'm committed to my growth strategy for a certain amount of time and a large amount of money, to be quite honest with you. 09:09 - Lau (Guest): Well, that's what I was going to say, that you lose a bunch of money that you don't feel you got any return on or any knowledge on. That would be the worst, wouldn't it? Honestly, I can't imagine that happening with you because you're going to squeeze the juice out of everything, but that would be the worst. 09:25 - Anne (Host): The confidence that I have, Lau, and I think that what we've spoken about as well in podcasts before, and I get excited about this, is that I said, "Okay, I have a certain amount of money, I can make a commitment, and I am okay if I lose this money." It's kind of like... it's like gambling. I was just going to say, I don't want to bring up gambling, but I will, because when I go to Vegas, I say, "Okay, I have a certain amount of money. If I decide that I want to gamble..." I don't really gamble a whole lot, like my gambling money is maybe 20 bucks, just to have fun. 09:51 - Lau (Guest): I don't either. 09:51 - Anne (Host): Because I'd rather spend my money on something that I know I'm getting. Like I'm getting a nice facial or a massage. 09:55 - Lau (Guest): I do too, I know. Or dinner. But doesn't that make it harder for you to make those moves because you're not a gambler? 10:05 - Anne (Host): Well, I'm not a gambler, let's say, in Vegas, but I am a gambler with my business in a lot of ways, because I know that if I don't, I will be worse off. If I do not grow, and I've said this before, stagnancy is the death of me. If I do not grow, that is the worst. And I think what was happening is I was at a place where I didn't feel like I was growing anymore, and I wanted to continue the growth. And I'm like, "How can I grow? How can I get more clients? How can I reach these clients?" And when I really researched the answers, it wasn't within my own industry, because I had my own circle already built, which was amazing, and I love my circle. I'm not giving up my circle, but I needed to get beyond the circle to bring in new people, to bring in, right, new clients, and that was, I mean, really, how was I going to reach those clients? 10:54 - Lau (Guest): So what does that translate to for you in terms of this last move that you just made? I know you can't get into too many details before your launch of it, but what did that translate to you in terms of the team you had and were working with, the new team you wanted to be working with, and the new concept that you had moving forward? What were the action steps that you really had to start taking on in order to realize that? 11:22 - Anne (Host): Well, action steps was, first of all, education and research, right, and understanding. And I was actually put in a situation where I needed to get a new team of professionals that could, first of all, handle my website, because the person that I had worked with for many, many years was not able to continue to do that. And so I was looking for more members of the team. And so in doing so, it's hard out there looking for people. I mean, we've discussed this before, like, do they know the industry? Do they not know the industry? What are their skill levels? And, to be honest with you, if people in the voiceover industry knew website development, there are a few people that do, but there's not a lot, right? 12:01 - Anne (Host): So I had to go outside of the industry to look for people that could handle the back end of my websites, because I got a lot going on. I mean, we know that the podcast here, there's a lot of products, there's lots of back-end workings in the website that set up appointments with me, that handle income and inflows and outflows and that sort of thing. So I needed to have someone that was capable in that to take over. And so in doing that was education, research, interviewing, and then also really having a hard look at the budget, because you know, I mean, I have a certain budget. And I think the one thing that sealed it for me—the go, right, the go, and go after thinking and strategizing and education—was having a certain amount of money set aside that I could risk, right, to move forward and know that if it didn't work out, I wasn't confined to a lifetime of it, right, financially or emotionally. I could get out of it if I needed to, right? And what would be the worst thing that could happen? 13:00 - Anne (Host): Well, I would lose that money. So I was just like, if I was going, I have this amount of money that I'm willing to lose, and now I'm ready to gamble. And that's really what it took. And that, just knowing that, having that security and knowing that I had a certain amount of money I was willing to invest and lose completely, completely, if things didn't go the way that I thought they were and I needed to get out, I was okay with that. And so I think that gave me the green light to go ahead and do it. And now, once I'm doing it, right, there's all sorts of like things that are like... I was not anticipating all sorts of obstacles in the path that I did not anticipate. 13:38 - Lau (Guest): Tell us about a few of those obstacles that you ran into. 13:40 - Anne (Host): Well, you know, if you're working with new people, they don't know you, right? They may or may not know your industry. These people did not know my industry, and so they need to be educated so that they can do the best job that they can. The amount of time that I spent educating it's amazing because, you know, I've been in this industry for, I don't know, 17, 18 years, and people that have been working with me have been working with me a long time, so that's a lot of years. Once you work with someone or, you know, you get to know them for that long of time, it's great, because you know the process, you know the industry, you know the person you're working with, you know what they're expecting. When you have new people, it's a whole new relationship, right? And it's like a new client, right, a new voiceover client, where I always loved voiceover because you got in and you got out quick. 14:25 - Anne (Host): A lot of times, yeah, you had a client that kept coming back. You developed a relationship, and typically it was an easy relationship because they've liked what you've done, and they were happy with it, and there was never really, for the most part, you're not having difficult moments within that relationship. This one, I am an owner of my business, right? I need to have it run in a particular way, so it's not like I'm the boss this time, right? Before, my clients, they're the boss, right? I have a skill that I'm providing, and I'm providing audio to them. They like it, they accept it, they pay me. It's great. They come back. Right, they give me new stuff. They like it, they accept it, they pay me. It's great. This, I'm the boss, right? I have to like it, I have to accept it, and I have to say, "This is great. This is moving my business forward." So I have to do a lot of assessment along the way, especially with new people who may not be familiar. 15:12 - Lau (Guest): Now I have a question about that, okay, because we get a lot of questions about this. Folks come in and feel like, "I'm working on a voiceover career or an actor career. If I need to hire people or I need to get a vendor to serve me in a particular service, they come in, they have their expertise. I pay them, they do it." The problem is they're missing the link of how much education and management you have to do when you hire a person, a consultant, a team. It's any person. It is not like, "Here, do my website, and I'm done, and I'll see you in a couple of weeks when it's done," and that's time consuming. Can you take us through, right, can you take us through a little bit of the process of how you are managing this new, brand new team of people who may or may not have the expertise in this industry? How are you managing those people? What does that look like in terms of time and in terms of effort? 16:05 - Anne (Host): Oh, it's a lot, it's a lot of time, it's a lot. It's more time than I anticipated, and I forgot. I mean, because I had gotten almost complacent because people knew me so well, right? I mean, and so now I have to educate new people, a new team, on how I want my business to move forward and who I am and certain things that I expect. And so the amount of time that was required, I did not anticipate. I thought it would be easy, but it's not. And it's interesting because it kind of brought me back to, you know, you think things are just automated and my web girl, I've worked with her for 15 years, she knows me, she knows exactly like what I love, she knows if I say I need something on my website, she could do it. I didn't have to like micromanage at all. Now, all of a sudden, right, there's a lot of time spent educating the new team on, "Here's the practices and the procedures. And this is the way that I like it, because I'm the boss, right?" That amount of time that I'm managing, and I don't like to micromanage. What I like to do is educate enough so that I can say, "Go be creative, do it." It's so funny because, no matter what they do for you, right, they have to know who you are and your brand in order to be able to help you grow your business further. 17:17 - Anne (Host): And I literally went to the boot. Again, I go back to the boot, but I went shopping yesterday. I had a gift card to spend it at this Western store, and I got a cowboy hat. I got a cowboy hat, it's really cool. And the guy branded it for me on the inside of it, and I said, "Well, I love branding." Right, I love branding. "Let's do my initials AG." You know, that's like my website, it's everything. So he has the branding AG. And then I said, "Oh, I like those stars. I'm a star, make me a star." And the way he branded me, he floured it. Like every time he put that branding iron on the hat and he picked it up, it was branded. It was like a big flourish. And I'm like, "I don't care what you do or how many stars you put on it, you're creative. He's like, 'Oh, I'm a creative person, you do your thing, I trust you. You can put as many stars on there as you want, but I'm a star.'" So he's like, "Okay." So I let him like creatively flourish with my brand. But I gave him the specs on, "Here's my AG brand, and I need it to look like this. But now you can flourish and enhance the brand." 18:15 - Anne (Host): It's kind of what I'm doing with my business, right? I'm allowing people to do what they're good at, and that's a big thing. Like to kind of give up the control to allow the people who are experts in what they do, like I'm not a graphic expert, right? I need a graphic expert to create beautiful graphics for my website or a beautiful graphic for my social media, and so that's what they do, right? So I'm like, "Here, here's my guidelines, here's the brand, here's what it looks like for the most part, but put your creative flourish on it," and I love that. That's how I want to be able to manage people. I want to be able to have people that I can say, "Here, here's your baseline, your guidelines for the business. This is how I need it to sound, this is how I want to be represented. Go ahead, put your creative flourish on it." 18:58 - Lau (Guest): Do you feel like, Annie, especially if it's a company that has never worked with someone like you or someone like this brand or even in the genre of the business, do you feel like you can trust them to go off and create? Because there are so many questions that come up about the products and services themselves, do you feel like you can sort of take that step away, or do you feel like in the first couple months you don't? 19:23 - Anne (Host): I do need to be on top of the matter for the first couple, because I, yes, and that's what I'm finding, is that I do have to say, "No, this isn't quite what I need. Let's make adjustments," and they need to be willing to make adjustments while they get to know. It's a mutual, we need to get to know each other. 19:38 - Lau (Guest): Okay, so I have a question about that. How do you determine—this is a common question of all of our talent and clients—how do you determine how to bank hours according to what you're paying your marketing team to bank hours in order to educate, collaborate, go back and forth? How do you negotiate that with your company, not really knowing how much time they're going to need to figure it out? 20:06 - Anne (Host): Well, honestly, like, no sacrifice, no success, right? I am sacrificing a lot of my hours to do all the checking and then making the corrections and saying, "No, this, not this, this." And so for me, it's a sacrifice, right? It's a sacrifice of my time. I have to make sure I allocate time to be able to do that to educate them. But the better I can educate them right in the beginning, the less time I'm going to have to spend later on. That's the way I feel, and the easier it'll be for them to get to know me. I don't think that there's any lack of content about me out there, so, like there's lots of help if people need to know who is Ann Ganguzza. 20:43 - Lau (Guest): But the question is that a lot of people are going to be wondering is what if they want to hire a marketing team? What if they want to have a marketing consultant, right, working on? How do they know how much that investment will be, not just time but money, how much that investment will be based on the kind of education and back and forth that they will need to do with that team? Even if they're in the industry, they're still going to need to do it. 21:07 - Anne (Host): Yeah, it's probably more than you anticipate. You think that you can just say, "Here, create a graphic," or "Make my website." But there's so much that, again, because we are personal brands out there, right, in this industry. We are personal brands, brands out there, right? In this industry, we are personal brands. There's so much of us that is invested in representation and what we look like, what we sound like, how we're being sold, right? There's so much of us that, if we are not able to educate a team on who we are, right, and how we need to be represented, right, you need to be able to allocate that time. So the way that it's working with my team is that services are rendered. I mean, I don't pay for every version of a graphic. They basically do it until it's right, and that's how that works. I pay a blanket fee. 21:53 - Lau (Guest): Do they give you an amount of hours that they're willing to budget in for the month? 21:55 - Anne (Host): Nope, nope, that's great. There's no, yeah, there's no, not in a contract, let's put it that way. And so that was something that actually it's a really great question, because that was something that I wanted to make sure of. I mean, when we went back, right, "Here's what I need. I need to have this, this, this and this. Are you able to provide that, right, and are you able to provide revisions, right, without additional charges?" There's no charges. I'm paying a retainer fee, and so there are no, at least in the contract. There are not, right. There are not. There is a statement of work. There are timeframes. So if I need this to be done on my website, I should expect it to take this long. 22:40 - Lau (Guest): Right. Now, I have a question about that, Annie. If they're doing socials, which they're engaging in SEO, but also an engagement for you, right? They're doing socials in terms of engagement, they're doing graphics. 22:52 - Anne (Host): They're doing some graphics. They're doing graphics. 22:55 - Lau (Guest): But do they actually go on and engage in your voice? 22:57 - Anne (Host): I'm engaging right now. Okay, the question is, though, for people who need help, they would. They would. 23:02 - Lau (Guest): Well, that's the question I have. 23:03 - Anne (Host): If I wanted them to, they would, but I want to engage with the people as long as I have the time. I want to be able. The initial like impression of me and then if there are comments or questions, I like to engage for now, until there are some questions that they can handle on my behalf. But I don't want to misrepresent or people to think that, "Oh, somebody besides Ann is answering." For the most part, I'm interacting with any engagement that happens. They just need to provide the initial wow for the engagement. 23:37 - Lau (Guest): I got you. I got you. 23:38 - Anne (Host): But they would. They said they would, and I actually... We never actually went into that, because that's not what I'm having them do right now. I'm more concerned with them getting the website SEO going, doing some SEO work. They're doing a lot of SEO work for me, which, again, I wanted to be able to expand my reach and to be found outside of the circle that I was in already. 23:57 - Anne (Host): So that requires a lot of keywords. It requires a lot of going back to content that I've produced, creating new graphics for it, creating new titles, creating new words, you know, new content, new descriptions. And so, for the most part, I am approving all of that, and if it needs to go back to the drawing board, I basically correct it and say, "No, let's do this, let's do that." Again, I'll say, "I would never have said this, right, or I would never say this. This is not the proper terminology for this industry." So that's the one thing is that they don't necessarily know the terminology in the industry, nor do they know like, graphically, like, what microphone should I represent? Like, no, do not put a dynamic microphone. 24:39 - Lau (Guest): So you're doing that kind of team, and it's good for our listeners to just know, like, why are you doing this when you could do it yourself? But the expertise of an ad team like this is not only graphics and graphic design, but it's also how to reach your target markets. 24:57 - Anne (Host): Yes, and a different perspective, Lau. That's the other thing that I want to say is, the biggest benefit of this is it's great to have people in the industry, and I still have people in the industry that are doing work for me, but also having a perspective that's outside of the industry, because, again, I need to get outside of the bubble that I'm in, right? And so how do I do that without a different perspective? Right, I want to attract corporate clients. Right, I want to attract corporate clients for my voiceover. How am I going to do that if they're not in my circles already? Right, how am I going to reach outside? 25:28 - Anne (Host): And so a lot of it was to have somebody that does that for all industries to be able to do that for me, and then also, basically, to give me the perspective, like, so that I don't get in my own way, because I've literally had to say, like, "Do you think you should put my face on that graphic right now?" 25:47 - Anne (Host): "Because doesn't that seem too assuming, you know?" And I get all like, here I am getting in my own way, and they're like, "No, no, no, no, because at this stage of the sales funnel, right, they don't know you yet, and so you need to represent your face in that confident way, blah, blah, blah, blah. Later on down in the sales funnel, when they know you, then you don't have to repeat that." So they're experts in that, and basically there's a lot that I'm learning from them, and they're learning a lot about the industry from me. And we're collaborating, and that's the one thing that I do like is that it's in a very collaborative sort of way, and it wasn't without many interviews, by the way, and what's cool about that is they become... 26:31 - Lau (Guest): Yes, you're educating them about the industry and how they need, and people are going to be seeing and thinking about you that are not esoteric, they're not in the industry, they're people that are in the universe. Corporate people, people who might hire me for a voiceover. Yeah, I just want to say, though, that that is a perspective that we all lose along the way. 26:53 - Anne (Host): We do. 26:54 - Lau (Guest): Because we get so involved in the audience that we're currently with, we think everyone is like that. Everyone sees it that way, when really it can be quite opposite to that, that they see you as something totally different than what you think they're seeing you as. 27:07 - Anne (Host): Yeah, and that was the biggest education for me and the biggest takeaway is that it's a growth experience. 27:15 - Anne (Host): Growth is not always fun. Growth is not always fun, growth is not always easy, but growth is to me a sign of moving ahead and moving forward. And so, as long as I can accept that, and I can accept the beatings along the way and the discomfort, and the discomfort, you know, you've got your triumphs and celebrations and exciting moments, but you also have, yeah, you got to work that out. 27:37 - Anne (Host): Work out my stress, work out my stress. I love it. But it's all good, guys, and bosses. I guess this whole discussion today was like really small steps can really mean large growth for you in the long term. And for me, it was a bunch of tiny steps in my head, and then it was just kind of a leap of faith, right, once I said, "What's the worst that could happen?" 27:57 - Anne (Host): Right, I have accepted the worst thing that could happen. And I remember that's so funny, Lau, because in the beginning of time, I feel like in the beginning of time when I graduated college, right, a thousand years ago, a thousand years ago, when I graduated college and I was trying to determine whether I should accept a job in New Jersey, right? Should I move my young butt to New Jersey in a place that I didn't know anybody, all by myself, right, and work for this company? And I said, "You know what? It's scary, but I'll give it a year, and if it doesn't work out in a year, guess what? I can move home." The worst thing is, I don't like it and I move home. 28:31 - Anne (Host): So I did the same thing with my business, and I'll tell you what, Lau, it really puts things in perspective. I said, "Okay, I have a certain amount of money that I can lose, that I'm going to invest, I can lose it, and I'm okay with that, as long as I grow along the way. And if I grow along the way, I have such an education." To me, I'm like, "This is great, now I can move forward." 28:50 - Lau (Guest): I'm with you, totally, I'm with you. Now, one more question: To the people who are not leveling up quite in that way. Maybe they're in an early stage, earlier stage. They say, "I need this, I love this, and I want this, but I don't know if I have the extra money, I don't know if I have the extra capital for this." What do you say to those people that are a little bit tighter on budget, a little bit more worried about paying the rent, a little bit earlier in the game, or maybe they're not, maybe they've been in it for 10, 15 years, but they're still worried about the tight purse strings? What do you say about that? 29:21 - Anne (Host): Well, okay. So tight purse strings are one thing, right? I mean, you either do what you have to do to get the money. You put it in savings, you save for as long, earn it. 29:29 - Lau (Guest): Yeah, you work at Dunkin' Donuts. You know what I mean? Beg, borrow, steal it, as we used to say. Make me my iced coffee at Dunkin' Donuts. 29:35 - Anne (Host): You do whatever you do and you put it away, and then you say, "I've got this amount of money to invest." 29:40 - Lau (Guest): That's if you actually need the cash, right? Yeah. 29:42 - Anne (Host): And if it's not just cash and you just don't want to work, do you know what I mean? Like educate yourself. Like spend the money, invest the money in yourself. If you don't have money, it's time. 29:55 - Lau (Guest): Right. Beg, borrow, steal, right? Don't. I think you're also saying one really important work ethic thing that's a bottom line too, is you got to work harder? 30:00 - Anne (Host): Not only smarter. 30:02 - Lau (Guest): You got to work harder. I don't know why people threw that out the window. "Work smarter, not harder." Well, you kind of have to do both. 30:09 - Anne (Host): You have to do both. You have to work hard and work smart, right? Yeah, you do, and that's actually, I love that you said that. You really do. I mean, people know that I work. I mean, I'm just, I'm working extra hours right now. 30:19 - Lau (Guest): I'm not calling you a slob, but you're a grinder. You know what I mean? You are a grinder. 30:24 - Anne (Host): I always have been, but more so than I really want to. But my ultimate goal is so that I'm not going to have to work so hard in the future. Right? And again, if I were stagnant, right, and I just got kind of complacent, then that's almost worse. 30:37 - Lau (Guest): Yeah, but I know you. I know you. I don't think you're ever going to retire. You're not the type. You'll be on the phone at 98 going, "Wait a second, are you saying this?" I mean, you do have too much love and passion for everything that you're doing, and you know that's what really drives us at the end of the day. It's fun, there's got to be a fun factor. 30:55 - Anne (Host): Well, I think it's like a game. It's a game I play, you know, in a way. 30:59 - Lau (Guest): I mean, there's strategy, you want to win. Exactly, it's a very creative game for me. 31:05 - Anne (Host): So I think that, bosses, we all have to play that creative game. We all have to not just want to win at our performance and be in the booth and do a great job, but also win at our businesses and play the game. I mean, play the game. It's not a bad game to play, it's a fun game if you allow it to be, right, even though I'm telling you, I have discomfort, I'm stressed, but I enjoy the journey. 31:27 - Lau (Guest): I enjoy the journey. And remember what makes it successful, Annie, is that you're the designer of the game. Yes, you get to not only play the game, you get to design it. So don't lose out on the design element. That's the beautiful thing about it, right? 31:37 - Anne (Host): We're designing our own game. 31:39 - Lau (Guest): Our businesses are similar in the industry, but they couldn't be more different in the way they're designed and executed, and that's the beauty of what we do as creatives. Is that, and any industry that you run your own business, no two restaurants are really the same. 31:53 - Announcer: There's different designers. 31:55 - Lau (Guest): So have fun with that. 32:02 - Anne (Host): So guys, do the work, do the work, Make the small changes. 32:04 - Anne (Host): Yeah, Lau it's been amazing. Thank you so much for all your love and encouragement too. You are a big part of my team and I love having encouragement that does help, because you don't feel so all alone and I'm not also like, oh my God, am I doing the right thing? So yeah, guys, I'm going to give a great big shout out to our sponsor, ipdtl. You, too, can connect and network like bosses, like Lau and myself. Find out more at IPDTLcom Bosses. Have an amazing week and let's go build those muscles. All right, bye, bye. 32:33 - Announcer: Join us next week for another edition of VO Boss with your host, Anne Ganguzza, and take your business to the next level. Sign up for our mailing list at vobosscom and receive exclusive content, industry revolutionizing tips and strategies and new ways to rock your business like a boss. Redistribution with permission. Coast to coast connectivity via1 IPDTL.  

Andrew For America talks about Palantir company and how the intelligence community and our government are working together to create a nation-wide AI computer database which will hold the personal information for every single American citizen. They will have it all...it will be the end of privacy as we know it. Andrew also talks about Project Stargate which is a construction project happening in Abeline, TX that will become a virtual hub for all things AI surveillance, involving Palantir and companies like Oracle and Open AI. Andrew plays clips from co-founders of Palantir, Alexander Karp and Peter Theil, as well as Sam Altman, Edward Snowden, Larry Ellison, Donald Trump, and others to help illustrate his points.The song selections are the songs, "Hope Remains" and the song "Beg to Differ" by the band In 2 Months.Visit allegedlyrecords.com and check out all of the amazing punk rock artists!Visit soundcloud.com/andrewforamerica1984 to check out Andrew's music!Like and Follow The Politics & Punk Rock Podcast PLAYLIST on Spotify!!!Check it out here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1Y4rumioeqvHfaUgRnRxsy...politicsandpunkrockpodcast.comhttps://linktr.ee/andrewforamericaFollow Future Is Now Coalition on Instagram @FutureIsOrgwww.futureis.org

Mehmet Dilaver'in hazırlayıp sunduğu Proses Sohbetleri programına İstanbul Gedik Üniversitesi Öğretim Üyesi Dr. Begüm Erten Mahmutoğlu konuk oldu.

Mehmet Dilaver'in hazırlayıp sunduğu Proses Sohbetleri programına İstanbul Gedik Üniversitesi Öğretim Üyesi Dr. Begüm Erten Mahmutoğlu konuk oldu.

With the realization that SOMETHING is fucking with them, the Scoobs get into investigation mode! Spike is HANGRY, and while dipping to grab some animal blood Willow runs into Andrew! She brings him back to chez Summers. Anya and Xander hilariously volunteer as tribute to question the dweeb as Buffy keeps an eye on Spike. Rewatch, Listen & Laugh as we talk about bloody teats, our favorite moment concerning Stuffy assholes, and we BEG @tommylenk to come on the show!And don't forget to follow us at the_rewatcher on Instagram for special bonus content!!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Dr. Shaalan Beg and Dr. Kristen Ciombor discuss practice-changing studies in GI cancers and other novel treatment approaches that were presented at the 2025 ASCO Annual Meeting. Transcript Dr. Shaalan Beg: Hello, I'm Dr. Shaalan Beg, welcoming you to the ASCO Daily News Podcast. I'm a medical oncologist and an adjunct associate professor at UT Southwestern Medical Center in Dallas, Texas. There were some remarkable advances in gastrointestinal cancers that were presented at the 2025 ASCO Annual Meeting, and I'm delighted to be joined by Dr. Kristen Ciombor to discuss some exciting GI data. Dr. Ciombor is the Ingram Associate Professor of Cancer Research and a co-leader of Translational Research and the Interventional Oncology Research Program at the Vanderbilt Ingram Cancer Center. Our full disclosures are available in the transcript of this episode. Dr. Ciombor, it's great to have you on the podcast today. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Thanks, Dr Beg. It's great to be here. Dr. Shaalan Beg: Alright, let's kick it off. Big year for GI cancers. We'll start off with LBA1. This was the ATOMIC study sponsored by NCI and the National Clinical Trials Network (NCTN) and the Alliance group. This is a randomized study of standard chemotherapy alone or combined with atezolizumab as adjuvant therapy for stage III mismatch repair deficient colorectal cancer. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: I think this study was really definitely practice-changing, as you can tell because it was a Plenary. But I do have some concerns in terms of how we're actually going to implement this and whether this is the final answer in this disease subtype. So, as you said, the patients were enrolled with stage III resected mismatch repair deficient colon cancer, and then they were randomized to either modified FOLFOX6 with or without atezolizumab. And that's where it starts to become interesting because not many of us give FOLFOX for 6 months like was done in this study. Obviously, the study was done over many years, so that was part of that answer, but also the patients received atezolizumab for a total of 12 months. So the question, I think, that comes from this abstract is, is this practical and is this the final answer? I do think that this is practice-changing, and I will be talking to my patients with resected mismatch repair deficient colon cancer about FOLFOX plus atezolizumab. I think the big question is, do these patients need chemotherapy? And can we do a neoadjuvant approach instead? And that's where we don't have all the answers yet. Dr. Shaalan Beg: Yeah, but it has been great to see immunotherapy make its way into the adjuvant space after having made such a big impact in the metastatic space, but still some unanswered questions in terms of the need for chemotherapy and then the duration of therapy, which I guess we'll have to stay tuned in for the next couple of years to to get a lot of those questions answered. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Yeah, but a big congratulations to the study team, to the NCTN, the NCI. I mean, this is really a great example of federally funded research that needs to continue. So, great job by the study team. The DFS 10% difference is really very large and certainly a practice-changing study. Dr. Shaalan Beg: Yeah, and and sticking with colon cancer, and and this another federally funded study, but this time funded by a Canadian cancer clinical trials group was LBA3510. This is the CHALLENGE study. It's a randomized phase 3 trial of the impact of a structured exercise program on disease-free survival for stage III or high-risk stage II colon cancer. This study got a lot of buzz, a lot of mainstream press coverage, and a lot of discussions on what that means for us for the patients who we're going to be seeing next week in our clinic. What was your takeaway? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Yeah, this is a really interesting study, and I was so glad to see it presented because this partially answers one of the questions that patients always have for us in clinic, right? You know, once they've completed their standard chemotherapy and surgery, what else can they do to help prevent recurrence? And so we've always known and sort of extrapolated that healthy lifestyle habits are good, but now we have data, particularly in these patients. Most of them were stage III colon cancer patients, those had high-risk stage II cancer. And basically, the goal was to increase their physical activity by at least 10 MET hours per week. So, my big question, of course, as I came into this presentation was, “Okay, what does that mean exactly? How does that translate to real life?” And really what the author presented and explained was that basically most patients could hit their target by adding a 45- to 60-minute brisk walk 3 to 4 times a week. So I think this is very approachable.  Now, in the confines of the study, this was a structured exercise program, so it wasn't just patients doing this on their own. But I do think kind of extrapolating from that, that this is very achievable for most patients. And not only did this prevent recurrence of their prior cancer, but actually the rate of new primary cancer diagnoses, was less, which is really interesting, especially in the breast and prostate cancer. So this was a really interesting, and I think practice-changing study as well, especially given that this is something that most patients can do. Dr. Shaalan Beg: Yeah, and there was a lot of discussion in the hallways after the presentation in terms of how this really changes our existing practice because most folks already recommend exercise as a way for improving outcomes in cancer patients. So we've already been doing that. Now we have some data on how much it can impact the benefit. But there was some discussion about what the actual degree of impact was. There was a drop-off rate in terms of how long folks were able to stick with this exercise regimen. But you've seen this in clinic when someone have their surgery, they have their chemotherapy, they've been so intimately involved with the oncology world, with the oncology practice, and they somehow feel that they're being let loose into this mean, angry world without any guidance and they're looking for something to do. “What more can I do in terms of my lifestyle?” And then here we have very solid data, as solid as can be for an intervention like exercise, showing that there is an impact and you can give a prescription for exercise when someone wraps up their chemotherapy for colon cancer, thanks to the study. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Yeah. It was a great study. Dr. Shaalan Beg: Moving to gastroesophageal cancer, another late-breaking abstract. This is LBA5. The MATTERHORN trial was a phase 3 trial of durvalumab plus FLOT for resectable GE junction and gastric cancer. And again, another area where immunotherapy has made an impact, and here we're seeing it move closer for earlier-stage disease. What was your take-home for the MATTERHORN trial? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Yeah, so this study looked at neoadjuvant perioperative durvalumab plus our current standard chemotherapy of FLOT versus placebo plus FLOT. And this was a large study, almost 1,000 patients were randomized. And the primary endpoint was event-free survival, and it was definitely met in favor of the D + FLOT arm, as Dr. Klempner discussed after Dr Janjigian's presentation. I do think there are still some unanswered questions here. Overall survival is not yet mature, so we do have to wait and see how that shakes out. But it's very interesting and kind of is reflective of what, as you said, we're looking at earlier and earlier lines of therapy, particularly with immunotherapy, in these GI cancer spaces. So it makes a lot of sense to test this and and to look at this. So the toxicity was pretty similar to what we would expect. Primary endpoint was met, but again, we'll have to wait and see what the survival data looks like. Dr. Shaalan Beg: Yeah, and in oncology, we know, especially for treatment that does add additional cost, it does add additional potential toxicity that we want to see that overall survival nudged. I did see some polls on social media asking folks whether their practices changed from this, and I think the results were favoring adding durvalumab for this group of patients but understanding that there are caveats to the addition of treatments and the eventual FDA approval in that indication as well. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Exactly. I completely agree with that. Dr. Shaalan Beg: All right. How about we stick with gastroesophageal cancer? LBA4002 was trastuzumab deruxtecan versus ramucirumab plus paclitaxel for second-line treatment in HER2-positive unresectable or metastatic gastric cancer or GE junction cancer. This was the DESTINY-Gastric04 study. And again, antibody-drug conjugates making a big impact across different diseases. And here we have more data in the HER2-positive gastric cancer space. Your thoughts on this study? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Yeah, so this is a really important space in gastroesophageal cancer because the HER2 positivity rate is fairly high as compared to some of our other tumor types. So, I do think one of the important things was that patients did have biopsy confirmation of HER2 status, which was very important, and then they were randomized to either T-DXd versus the kind of second-line standard of ramucirumab-paclitaxel. So this was a great practical study and really answers a question that we had for a while in terms of does anti-HER2 therapy in the second-line really impact and improve survival. So we did see a statistically significant improvement favoring T-DXd. I do think it's always important to look at toxicity, though, too. And there was about almost 14% rate of interstitial lung disease, which of course is the most feared toxicity from some of these antibody-drug conjugates, especially T-DXd. So I do think it's important to keep that in mind, but this is definitely a great addition to the armamentarium for these HER2-positive patients. Dr. Shaalan Beg: And pancreas cancer was on the stage after a very long time with a positive clinical trial. This is Abstract 4006. These were preliminary results from a phase 2 study of elraglusib in combination with gemcitabine/nab-paclitaxel versus gemcitabine/nab-paclitaxel alone for previously untreated metastatic pancreas cancer. This is a frontline clinical trial of gemcitabine/nab-paclitaxel plus/minus the study drug. There were other cohorts in this study as well, but they reported the results of their part 3B arm. And great to see some activity in the pancreas space. And your thoughts? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Yeah, we definitely need better treatments in pancreas cancer. This was a very welcome presentation to see. The elraglusib is an inhibitor of GSK-3beta, and it's thought that that mediates drug resistance and EMT. And so this is, I think, a perfect setting to test this drug. So patients basically were randomized. Patients with metastatic pancreas cancer were randomized 2: 1 to gemcitabine/nab-paclitaxel plus or minus this elraglusib. So, what we saw was that overall survival was better with the addition of this new drug. And overall, not only the 1-year overall survival, but also median overall survival.  The thing that was interesting, though, was that we saw that the overall survival rates were 9.3 months with the combination versus 7.2 months with just gemcitabine/nab-paclitaxel. And that's a little bit lower than we've seen in other studies. So, not sure what was going on there. Was it the patients that were a bit sicker? Was it a patient selection, you know, thing? I'm not really sure how to explain that so much. Also, the toxicity profile was much higher in terms of visual impairment, with over 60% of patients being treated with the combination versus 9% with gemcitabine/nab-paclitaxel. So these were mild, grade 1 and 2, but still something to be cautious about. Dr. Shaalan Beg: And especially with this being a phase 2 trial, making sure that in a larger study we're able to better evaluate the toxicity and see if the control arm in the larger confirmatory study performs differently will be really important before this compound makes it to the clinic in our space. But very exciting to see these kinds of results for pancreas adenocarcinoma. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Yeah. Dr. Shaalan Beg: We've talked, it seems, a couple of times on this podcast about the BREAKWATER clinical trial. We did hear PFS and updated OS data, updated overall survival data on first-line encorafenib plus cetuximab plus modified FOLFOX6 for BRAF-mutated colorectal cancer. This was LBA3500. And eagerly anticipated results – we have all previously heard the progression-free survival results – but here we heard updated overall survival results, and very well-received study it seemed from the audience that time. So what are your takeaways on the updated results for BREAKWATER? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: In my opinion, this was one of the most practice-confirming studies. As you mentioned, we've already seen some of the preliminary data of BREAKWATER at prior meetings. But really what was particularly impactful for me was the median overall survival with the BREAKWATER regimen. So, again, patients received FOLFOX, encorafenib cetuximab in the first line if they had BRAF-mutated V600E-mutated colorectal cancer. And the median PFS was 12.8 months, which was actually really remarkable in this traditionally very aggressive, poor prognosis subtype of tumors. So, by seeing a median overall survival of 30.3 months was just incredible, in my opinion. Just a few years ago, that was considered the median overall survival for all comers for metastatic colorectal cancer. And we know the median overall survival was more in the less than 12 months range for BRAF. So this was incredibly impactful, and I think should be absolutely practice-changing for anyone who is eligible for this regimen.  I think again, where the practice meets the study is what's kind of important to think about too, how long did patients get FOLFOX, and certainly it adds toxicity to add a BRAF-targeted regimen on top of FOLFOX already. So, one of the other interesting things about the study, though, was that even though it didn't complete treatment, they actually did look at encorafenib/cetuximab alone and in the first line without chemotherapy. And those preliminary results actually looked okay, especially for patients who might not be able to tolerate chemotherapy, which we certainly see in practice. So, overall, definitely more data. And I agree that it's certainly practice-changing. Dr. Shaalan Beg: And it completely, as you mentioned, changes the outlook for a person who's diagnosed with BRAF-mutated metastatic colon cancer today versus even 7 or 8 years ago. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: And we're seeing this over and over in other subtypes too, but how you choose to treat the patient up front really matters. So really giving the right regimen up front is the key here. Dr. Shaalan Beg: And along the same lines, Abstract 3501 wanted to answer the question on whether people with MSI-high metastatic colorectal cancer need double checkpoint inhibitor therapy or is single therapy enough. So this [CheckMate-8HW] study compared nivo plus ipi with nivo alone, nivo monotherapy for MSI-high metastatic colorectal cancer. And we've known that both of these are fairly active regimens, but we also know the chance of immune-related adverse events is significantly higher with combination therapy. So this was a much-needed study for this group of patients. And what were your takeaways here? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: This, of course, has been really nivo-ipi in the first-line MSI-high metastatic colorectal cancer is now a standard of care. And not everybody is eligible for it, and there could be reasons, toxicity reasons, and other things too. But as we've been seeing for the last couple of years, immunotherapy clearly beats chemo in this space. And now looking at doublet versus single immunotherapy treatment in the first line, I think really nivo-ipi does beat out monotherapy. I will say, however, there is a caveat in that we still haven't seen the nivo-ipi versus nivo in the first line. So what has been presented thus far has been across all lines of therapy, and that does muddy the waters a little bit. So definitely looking forward and and we've asked this many times and based on the statistical plan and and what not, you know, we just haven't seen that data yet. But I do think it's becoming increasingly important to consider doublet immunotherapy for these patients as long as there are no contraindications. With the again, with the caveat that we have to have these toxicity discussions in the clinic with patients because many patients can tolerate it, you know, this regimen fairly well, but there can be very severe toxicities. So, I think an informed discussion should really be had with each patient before moving forward. Dr. Shaalan Beg: Yeah, informed decision, making them aware of the potential of real significant toxicities, immune-related toxicities with double therapy. But I am curious in your practice, how often do you see people choosing doublet therapy as frontline? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: So patients are really savvy, and a lot of times they've heard this data before or have come across it in patient advocacy groups and other things, and it's really nice to be able to have that conversation of the risk versus benefit. So I will say not all of my patients choose doublet, and many of them are still cured with immunotherapy monotherapy. So the big question there is, will we ever understand who actually needs the doublet versus who can still be cured or have very good long-term outcomes with just the single agent? And that has not been answered yet. Dr. Shaalan Beg: What a great point. So the last abstract I was hoping we could talk about is POD1UM-303 or the INTERAACT2 subgroup analysis and impact of delayed retifanlimab treatment for patients with squamous cell carcinoma of the anal canal. What were your thoughts here? Dr. Kristen Ciombor: This was a study, actually we saw at ESMO, we saw the primary data at ESMO last year, and this was an update with some exploratory analyses. But this was really an important study because once again, we're looking at immunotherapy in later lines of therapy. That's how we started looking at and investigating immunotherapy, and now we're moving it up and up in the treatment course. So this was a study of carboplatin/paclitaxel plus or minus retifanlimab. Actually it was retifanlimab versus placebo. And it was a positive study, as we heard last year. This actually led to FDA approval of this regimen last month, just before ASCO, and it has now been incorporated in the NCCN guidelines as the preferred first-line option.  So what I thought was important from the additional data presented at ASCO was looking at the different subgroups, it did not appear that patients with liver mets or not had different outcomes. So that was really good to see because sometimes in colon cancer we see that immunotherapy doesn't work as well when patients have liver mets. And interestingly, because we use immunotherapy in anal cancer without any biomarkers, unlike with colon cancer or some of the other tumor types, also the authors looked at PD-L1 status, and it did look like maybe patients did a little bit better if they had higher PD-L1 expression, but patients still could benefit even if they were PD-L1 negative. So that was important, I think, and we will continue to see further data come out from this study. I want to mention also that EA2176 just completed accrual, so that was carbo-taxol plus or minus nivolumab. And so we should be seeing that data sometime soon, which will hopefully also confirm the ongoing role for immunotherapy in the first-line setting for anal cancer. Dr. Shaalan Beg: That was a fantastic review. Thank you, Dr Ciombor. Thanks for sharing your valuable insights with us today on the ASCO Daily News Podcast. Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Thanks for having me here. Dr. Shaalan Beg: And thank you to our listeners for your time today. You will find links to the abstracts discussed today in the transcript of this episode. And if you value the insights that you hear on the podcast, please take a moment to rate, review, and subscribe, wherever you get your podcasts. Disclaimer: The purpose of this podcast is to educate and to inform. This is not a substitute for professional medical care and is not intended for use in the diagnosis or treatment of individual conditions. Guests on this podcast express their own opinions, experience, and conclusions. Guest statements on the podcast do not express the opinions of ASCO. The mention of any product, service, organization, activity, or therapy should not be construed as an ASCO endorsement. More on today's speakers:   Dr. Shaalan Beg  @ShaalanBeg  Dr. Kristen Ciombor @KristenCiombor Follow ASCO on social media:    @ASCO on Twitter   @ASCO on BlueSky  ASCO on Facebook    ASCO on LinkedIn    Disclosures:   Dr. Shaalan Beg:   Consulting or Advisory Role: Ipsen, Cancer Commons, Foundation Medicine, Science37, Nant Health, Lindus Health Speakers' Bureau: Sirtex Research Funding (Inst.): Delfi Diagnostics, Universal Diagnostics, Freenome Dr. Kristen Ciombor: Consulting or Advisory Role: Pfizer, Incyte, Exelixis, Bayer, ALX Oncology, Tempus, Agenus, Taiho Oncology, Merck, BeiGene Research Funding (Inst.): Pfizer, Boston Biomedical, MedImmune, Onyx, Bayer, Boehringer Ingelheim, Bristol-Myers Squibb, Merck, Novartis, Incyte, Amgen, Sanofi, Bristol-Myers Squibb, Array BioPharma, Incyte, Daiichi Sankyo, Nucana, Abbvie, Merck, Pfizer/Calthera, Genentech, Seagen, Syndax Travel, Accommodations, Expenses: Incyte, Tempus

Historia är på modet och i våra sommarboktips reder vi ut varför och vilken roll historia verkar fylla för oss. Lyssna på alla avsnitt i Sveriges Radio Play. Kristina Ekero Eriksson, Urban Björstadius och Tobias Svanelid träffas för att diskutera historievurmen, tipsa om säsongens bokfavoriter och berätta hemlisar. Hör om smaktestarrobotar, Vasatidens romantiska brudröveri och Vindens historia!Böckerna som nämns i programmet:Begäret efter det förflutna av Kristina Fjelkestam Ligan – Klarakvarterens blodsystrar av Fatima BremmerHistoriska resenärer, 12 kvinnor som erövrade världen av Per J AnderssonBruno Liljefors – en biografi av Fredrik SjöbergTjabo – en biografi av Åsa LinderborgKvinnorna runt Vasatronen av Karin Tegenborg FalkdalenVindens historia av Ellen VisteSvenskar under järnkorset 1914-1945 av Lars Gyllenhaal och Lennart WestbergSinnen i arbete av Ingemar Pettersson och Daniel Normark (red)Föräldrarnas födelse av Maja LarssonMosaic - a Story of Civilization av Glenn Drover

For this compelling episode, Ceri is joined by artist Jeremy Hutchison, whose subversive, multi-disciplinary practice spans performance, sculpture, video and text. They cover essential takeaways for artists today: how to subvert the aesthetics of capitalist spectacle without shame, how humour disruption and wrong-headed commercialism can be radical tools for change; and why artists must stop waiting for permission and instead beg forgiveness, push edges and find their co-conspirators.  The Artist Mastermind Circle: Ready to stop second-guessing and start building momentum in your art career? Applications are now open for the next Artist Mastermind Circle—a six-month coaching programme for mid-career artists who are serious about growing their confidence, income, and opportunities.Apply by 21 July at https://cerihand.com/artist-mastermind-circle/ and take the next bold step. KEY TAKEAWAYS Don´t ask for permission, push the boundaries and embrace risk. Beg forgiveness afterwards. Nonsense and humour are powerful - they make people pause and question. Leverage the systems you are critiquing to reach more people. Working with others, movements and communities fuels your creativity and increases reach. Notice small detail they can be catalysts for impactful art. If you want a sustainable practice, regularly take time to recharge. You need good mental and physical health. BEST MOMENTS “You don't need 700 people. You only need about 7 or 10 champions.” “Sometimes in the midst of a political or cultural crisis, the risks that artists have to take set them apart from the tribe.” “I often begin with a tiny thing that pops out of the great sea of life, and it will somehow express the full weirdness of the greater thing.” EPISODE RESOURCES https://jeremyhutchison.com https://www.instagram.com/jeremyhutchison PODCAST HOST BIO With over 30 years in the art world, Ceri has worked closely with leading artists and arts professionals, managed public and private galleries and charities, and curated more than 250 exhibitions and events. She sold artworks to major museums and private collectors and commissioned thousands of works across diverse media, from renowned artists such as John Akomfrah, Pipilotti Rist, Rafael Lozano-Hemmer and Vito Acconci. Now, she wants to share her extensive knowledge with you, so you can excel and achieve your goals. **** Ceri Hand Coaching Membership: Group coaching, live art surgeries, exclusive masterclasses, portfolio reviews, weekly challenges. Access our library of content and resource hub anytime and enjoy special discounts within a vibrant community of peers and professionals. Ready to transform your art career? Join today!  https://cerihand.com/membership/  **** Build Relationships The Easy Way Our self-study video course, "Unlock Your Artworld Network,"  offers a straightforward 5-step framework to help you build valuable relationships effortlessly. Gain the tools and confidence you need to create new opportunities and thrive in the art world today. https://cerihand.com/courses/unlock_your_artworld_network/ **** Book a Discovery Call Today  To schedule a personalised 1-2-1 coaching session with Ceri or explore our group coaching options, simply email us at hello@cerihand.com **** Discover Your Extraordinary Creativity  Visit www.cerihand.com to learn how we can help you become an extraordinary creative. This Podcast has been brought to you by Disruptive Media. https://disruptivemedia.co.uk/

Send us a textHappy summer PE Nation!In today's episode I encourage you to enjoy your summer break, while adding  professional development to enhance your PE program before the next school year begins.• Supersizedphysed.com serves as the hub for all resources, articles, and courses• Free resources include Substack and Medium articles with PE tips, games, and strategies• A free video course on the "PE-9": principles for improving your PE program• Free ebook on setting up your PE program, especially helpful for newer teachers• "High Fives and Empowering Lives" book available as an ebook ($2.99) or paperback ($9.99)Paperback or download: HEREAmazon Ebook: HERE• My courses: "Designing a Sport Education Unit" and "The First Week of PE" • Teachers Pay Teachers store with over 30 affordable resources• The "Beg, Borrow, Build and Steal" equipment ebook for equipment managementPut in the work during summer break. Yes, take time off, rest, enjoy your family and friends, but don't wait until the last second to gear up for the next school year. Always be learning, always be listening, always be creating.Take care,DaveFollow me on Twitter (X): https://x.com/PE_Dave1017Website for the book: https://www.teacherchefhockeyplayerbook.com/

Jack can't resist his neighbor's daughter and her friend.by writemarksmith. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories."Jack, I think it's so sweet you are taking the girls out."My pretty neighbor Amy was at my place, complimenting me for my plans to take her gorgeous daughter Tina and Tina's hot friend Sophia out for dinner. I felt guilty and anxious, but my cock twitched thinking about it."It will be good to get you out of the house and they will love that Italian spot you chose. I'd join you if I didn't have go see my mom in Austin."Amy's face became mischievous and she reached over to stroke my leg. Her hand moved softly up along my skin towards the top of my shorts. My cock twitched again and I suspected she noticed."You do need to start going on real dates though Jack. In the meantime, I am just next door if you need some; inspiration."Amy had 'inspired' me previously by encouraging me to jack off while looking at her bare tits. I hadn't taken her up on her rather open invitation to repeat in part because I was getting so much inspiration from her daughter and Sophia. I stammered and Amy finally left me alone to think about the evening ahead.I spent almost an hour deciding what to wear. This was completely out of the ordinary for me, but I vacillated from trying to look 'cool' and young with not wanting to look like I was trying to hard with being disgusted with myself for lusting after these two girls less than half my age. I ended up wearing an all black outfit, black pants and shirt and a black jacket. I looked sharp and felt like I would be in control wearing this.I sat in the outfit alone for about an hour before the girls were supposed to come over so I could drive them to the restaurant. I felt like a boy waiting anxiously for his prom date. I shuddered when I realized that my prom was over 20 years ago, but the two girls had theirs just a couple of months ago.I finally heard the girls giggling as they walked up to he door. I waited a few seconds before answering their knock, not wanting to seem too anxious.Tina looked stunning in a white sundress with a flower pattern. She looked like an H&M model with her long legs were displayed proudly. Tina kissed me on the cheek, "Hi Uncle Jack. Don't you look sharp!"I found myself tongue tied before I said anything at all and suddenly saw Sophia in front of me. I looked down quickly and saw she was much less dressed up, wearing no make-up, a tight t-shirt and jeans. She looked so sexy with no effort at all, I thought as she leaned against me and kissed my cheek. I could feel she was not wearing a bra and my cock started to swell."Hi Jack" she cooed with a smirk. The last time I had seen Sofia she had me on my knees, jacking off as I kissed her ass. We had agreed she should call me 'Mr. Brown' and I suddenly became nervous she may have told Tina about her visit."Err, well; um; let's go?" I suggested.The two girls giggled and I wondered if it was obvious to both of them how nervous I was. Certainly Sophia knew she could wrap me around her finger, but I hoped to keep my dignity with Tina. Tina sat in front with me on the way there and I got hard just looking at her bare long legs. It looked like she had oiled them they were so smooth.When we arrived it seemed that everyone in the restaurant turned to see me and these two beautiful young girls. I felt embarrassed; but also; proud. Tina seemed very comfortable in the nice setting but Sophia seemed impressed.I ordered a nice bottle of wine at Tina's suggestion. I knew the girls were too young, but I needed a drink and certainly didn't want it to be awkward. We were already on or second bottle before the food came. Tina was doing much of the talking, seeming even more vivacious with some alcohol in her. She told us several stories about her swim team. The stories culminated in one where she and a female friend on the team sabotaged the other team while at a swim meet in another town. The two of them targeted the other team's star, flirted aggressively with him, and ended up giving him a two girl hand job just hours before the competition. He didn't come close to his normal times and Tina's school won easily.I choked a little when she got to the dirtiest parts but Tina just giggled and continued. I wasn't sure what was appropriate, after all we were all adults. Sophia was much quieter, but any time I looked at her she had a subtle smirk and looked right into me with her big brown eyes. I was looking at her full lips and flushed cheeks when Tina blurted out,"So what do you do for sex now that you're back Uncle Jack?"I coughed, genuinely taken aback and started to try to answer,"Well, I'm not; I mean; "Tina laughed and Sophia giggled. Sophia, who had not been joining in Tina's risque talk, suggested,"I guess you have to jack off a lot now?"I thought of how she had me jack myself off while my face was buried in her ass and blushed brightly."Oh Sophia!" Tina said in mock horror, chuckling. Tina left for the restroom and I was about to reprimand Sophia when I felt her bare foot run along my thigh, then push against my cock. It was already hard from the conversation and she giggled. '"You think you can wait until you get home?" she taunted.She started to wiggle her toes, stroking my cock casually while she licked her dessert spoon. I was mesmerized by how sexy she was and how good she was making me feel. I didn't even notice Tina returning until she took her seat beside Sophia, who still had her foot on me. I tried to look cool, but could feet a little sweat on my forehead. I was sure she must have seen me looking desperately at her friend.Sophia spoke again, "Jack, I bet you have some weed at your place?"She knew I did, she had left some there. I assumed she wanted me to say yes but I was thinking through the implications of the two of them came to my place to smoke. I felt like she had all the power over me through her little toes."Yes; I; ""Goodie!" she exclaimed and she motioned for the waiter to bring us the check.After I paid I ordered an uber to take us back, having had too much wine to drive. I noted that Amy's car was gone, confirming she had indeed stayed in Austin for the night. The girls sat by the pool as I got the weed and Sophia rolled us a joint. I felt a little exposed being outside with the girls. Even though I knew Tina's parents were both away, it felt wrong, but after a few tokes, I was more relaxed. I took the spliff from Tina but my mellow spirit was interrupted when she loudly exclaimed that we all needed to get in the pool. I was too comfortable and drunk to even get up, but watched the two young girls proceed to prepare for a swim. Tina was first. Already barefoot, she took off her white dress and seemed completely comfortable standing beside me wearing just a white bra and thong. Sophia followed her friend's lead, pulling down her jeans and giving me a great view of her perfect plump ass covered only by small black panties. She then pulled off her t-shirt showing even more of her copper skin, as well as her two succulent breasts. I had never seen her tits before and had to get a good look even though I was sure Tina would notice.I was rock hard so of course had to refuse their invitations to strip down and join them. The two of them surrounding me and pulling at me only got me more excited but they finally gave up and jumped in. I watched the two of them frolic in the pool and splash each other. Tina splashed me, and when I protested the two of them tossed water at me. When they came out my hard cock twitched. They were like two young goddesses, one tall, white and Nordic, the other dark, sultry and curvy. I could not resist staring as they approached me and dried themselves off.Tina giggled and suddenly sat in my lap, still very wet. Her pink nipples were completely visible through her wet bra and"You remember I used to sit in your lap Uncle Jack?" she said, her words slurring from all the wine."I; yes; um;" I was unsure where to put my hands, though I wanted desperately to stroke her leg. I thought about her mother stroking my leg earlier.Tina giggled as she wiggled her ass back and forth. "I don't remember you lap having this 'bump' though!"I was mortified and felt the heat rising in my face, but my cock pushed proudly against her ass cheeks. Tina's phone rang and she reached over for it. It was her boyfriend."Yeah; just hanging out with Sophia" she said then stifled a giggle as she wriggled her ass on my cock again."Sure, pick us up in 10. Bye!"Tina told Sophia the plans she had made, all the while sitting on my lap. She then turned to me, "Thanks again for dinner Uncle Jack." She seemed to say 'uncle' with mockery. "Hope we can do it again soon!"Tina kissed me on the cheek, gave me one last push of her ass against my hard cock and got up. Sophia came to me and kissed me quickly on the lips. "Bye Mr. Brown!" she laughed. She then whispered, "Leave the back door open"My head was spinning as I watched the two of them run next door, still almost naked. My eyes were especially fixated on Sophia's ass swaying as she ran off. I could barely believe I had just had two hot girls, barely dressed playing with me in my backyard.I shook my head and reminded myself that they were only 18. Just girls. I had known Tina since she really was a girl. I knew I had to stop the temptations, but right now I told myself I had to take care of my raging hard-on. I went upstairs and had an idea before I went to my room. I went to the window in the guest room that looked into Tina's bedroom and saw the two girl's changing. They were still laughing, Tina had changed her panties but was topless. Her perky tits showed off small pink nipples. Sophia had hear jeans back on, and was taking off a shirt I guessed Sophia had given her that was too small. I took out my cock and started to stroke it. I felt like a pervert, but I decided to go with it. I imagined the girls had come up to my room and I was kissing Sophia's ass while Tina was sucking my cock. I came before Tina got her jeans buttoned up then watched them scramble and leave as the boys pulled up the driveway.Sated, I went to my bedroom, took off my pants and decided to lie down for a moment. I was not used to weed and it had a big impact after all that wine. I quickly fell to a deep sleep, but was woken hours later by a stroke on my face and a sweet voice."Jack; Jack."I opened my eyes and saw Sophia's big brown eyes looking into mine. She smirked down at me."Have you been dreaming about my sweet ass?" she asked in a sing-song voice.Half awake I murmured, "I have."Sophia giggled. I watched her strip off her t shirt, her tits just above me, but when I raised my head to suck them she slapped me playfully."No no, those are not for you." she scolded. "You know what you want."Sophia turned and pointed to her ass through her jeans. I nodded dumbly."Ask me nicely." she said then before I could answer added, "Beg."Well of course I begged. I pleaded with her, telling her truthfully I had never seen as ass as perfect as hers, how I had been fantasizing about kissing it again.Finally Sophia giggled, then unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down with her panties. For the first time I saw her completely nude and she looked so sexy. Once again I started to get up but she pushed me back down and climbed on the bed."Uh uh; you just sit back and do your job."I watched this 18 year old beauty climbed on to the bed beside me. I stroked her leg, hoping she would not slap me away. Sophia turned away from me then straddled my chest, and raised her gorgeous ass just over my face. I cranked my neck to kiss it gratefully over and over again while she giggled then she lowered it slowly until my face was smothered under her big ass cheeks. I kept kissing then felt her lower my boxers."Jack off for me while you lick my asshole." she said.I was so turned on at that moment. My hand grabbed my rock hard cock and I started to lick her ass crack."Deeper!" she said, swatting my cock playfully. I plunged my tongue deep into her asshole then started to poke it in and out. She started to moan, louder and louder, until I wondered if Tina might hear all the way in the house next door."Umm, Fuck!; Hmm"She was now bouncing her ass up and down on my face. I could feel her wetness on my chin. She was using me and I loved it."Cum for me Jack; cum for me with your tongue inside me!"I would have cum already if I hadn't just jacked off. I could feel I wasn't going to last much longer."Tell me you'd rather have your tongue in my ass than fuck Tina!" she commanded. I confirmed with a voice completely muffled by her ass cheeks but she seemed pleased. I felt my balls tighten and started to spurt all over my hand. I stroked out every drop, while continuing to tongue young Sophia's asshole. Finally she climbed off of me and I immediately missed her warmth and intimacy."Who knew you'd be such a good plaything Jack?" she asked rhetorically. One of the boys tonight was desperate to fuck me, but I kept thinking how nice it would be to have you tongue my ass with no expectations.I wasn't sure what to say. Sophia got dressed while I lay there then slapped my face softly and kissed my lips."Don't forget what you told me Jack." she whispered before she left me there, wondering how life got so confused and I got so lucky.Teenaged Tina pushes her teasing even further.My beautiful young neighbor Tina was on my mind before I heard her. I was sitting in my backyard by the pool late at night with the lights off. I had a Jack and Coke in my hand and I was thinking about how I had let things get so out of control.Then, almost as if summoned, I heard Tina as she opened the gate; shushing someone and giggling. She was with a boy, tall and fit and as they stumbled into my backyard it was clear they had been drinking. Neither of them saw me sitting on the patio in the dark as they stripped out of their clothes and jumped in the pool. It happened so fast that I never found a way to interrupt. Truth be told my throat seemed to close when I saw Tina strip, then saw her completely bare for the first time. Tina had a gorgeous tight young body. I saw her pretty pink nipples, her shaved young pussy and as she jumped into the pool her toned ass, which her boyfriend was now exploring as he pulled her close in the water. As I watched them make out in the water, I was hardening quickly."Umm; hi!" I managed to say.The boy jumped, but Tina seemed rather unfazed, almost as if she expected I might be there.I turned away when Tina got out of the pool, but managed to catch a glance of her toned young, nude body. She giggled as she got a towel and wrapped herself in it while her boyfriend put on his pants as he apologized."Uncle Jack this is my friend Bobby", Tina said with a smile. "Hope we didn't bother you Jack; we just came over for a quick swim."Bobby shook my hand looking sheepish. Tina didn't seem contrite at all, and it was evident she was feeling no pain. My cock stiffened as she walked over in her towel and stood above me."I used to come her all the time as a child." she said, presumably talking to Bobby but looking me right in the eyes. "I would swim for hours and sit in Jack's lap."With that she plopped herself on my lap, It was evident she could feel I was hard as she wriggled her ass crack along it with more giggles. It was all I could do not to feel her bare legs that were inches from my hands; to bury my face in her tits."I feel bad you don't get any action." Tina said with a glint in her eye that suggested she didn't feel bad at all. I could smell sweet liquor on her breath. "I bet it's really; 'hard' for you."She was just grinding a little now but her teasing had me ready to cum in my pants like a teenager.Tina looked up at her boyfriend who was bare chested in shorts. "Umm; I bet, since you don't have anyone; you'd like to; watch?"Having had a few drinks myself, and being extremely distracted by the barely clothed teenager pushing herself into my cock. I was a little foggy on what she was suggesting. Realizing she might be expecting an answer I smiled a little and tried to catch up but Tina was way ahead of me."Yes; let's do that for him Bobby. Not nice just to use his pool and run."Bobby seemed to track with her as he put his hand and gallantly helped her out of my lap. I immediately missed her warmth, but things moved quickly and I watched Bobby pull her close and start making out with her right in front of me. Soon his big hands were reaching under her towel, groping her now exposed ass cheeks while I watched. I said nothing, barely moving. I knew it was wrong, that it was all too pervy, for me to just sit there and watch my teenage neighbor; to watch as her boyfriend's fingers disappeared under the towel, evidently pushing into her and making her moan in pleasure.When Tina's towel dropped my heart was racing and I was rock hard. I was all in now, I couldn't help myself. Tina looked like a model, but a model who was right in front of me, naked and ready to be taken. Sure it was her boyfriend she wanted to take her, but my cock was ready nonetheless. I could see he had two fingers deep in her pussy. She seemed to be completely lost in how he was making her feel, but then she turned to me and said, "Why don't you go ahead and jack off Uncle Jack?"It seemed too much for me. I had never been in any threesome, much less a male-male-female. I couldn't just whip out my cock and;Bobby had no such hesitation and was presently pulling his impressive cock out as he lowered his pants. Tina turned to me and put one hand on each arm of my chair, bending forward so she was looking me right in my eyes. I could see her pert tits hanging, could see her raise her bare ass for Bobby.Suddenly Tina jerked forward as Bobby pushed himself into her. Instinctively I went to kiss her lips which were just before me, but she jerked back almost as quickly, then back into my face. At first Tina had her eyes closed, losing herself in her slutty tryst, but she was now focused on me, a smirk on her pretty face as her boyfriend railed her."Jack off for me." she whispered and she reached down to give me hard cock a squeeze for emphasis.I couldn't resist. I pulled out my cock as she continued to get railed. It was humiliating to just sit there stroking my cock while a girl I desperately wanted was right there; nude and horny; but getting fucked hard by another man;  Tina giggled a little between her moans and she watched me. I so wanted her to suck my cock, but instead she briefly put her hand under her chin, making sure I looked her right in her blue eyes when she teased,"Tell me how much you fantasize about me."Somehow I needed to tell her. I spilled it out as she moaned and begged for Bobby to fuck her harder."I have Tina; you are so beautiful I can't help it; .I have jacked off to you so; " I felt myself tighten and knew I would cum very soon. "I; thank you; you; ." I started to shoot. Some of my cum shot up to her tits. Tina smirked as she saw but she was also bucking her ass into Bobby, taking him deeper and making sure he would also cum.When Bobby was finished with her he pulled out and Tina collapsed back into my lap. I held her gratefully, stroking her leg and feeling her breathe heavily. Her face looked almost innocent, but them I looked at the sweat and cum on her chest. She shifted a little in my lap and I felt my cock stir just a little.Tina kissed my cheek sweetly and put her head on my shoulder, "We can keep this our little secret Uncle Jack."By writemarksmith for Literotica.

This week on The Mama Shrink Podcast, we're talking about one of the hardest, most painful truths: You can't make someone change if they don't want to. You can love them. Beg them. Do everything “right.” But if they're not willing to change, nothing will change.

 Megan At the Sex Shop: Part 2 Megan's Day 2 at Adult Store.Based on posts by p Sullivan 2 22 22, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.Megan spread out all her purchases on the bed. She wanted to wear something for her second day that would show that she is daring, and she is sexy, and she is confident, and she is pushing her sexuality forward."Something short, something tight, and something just a little transparent" thought Megan.Right there on the bed, right in front of her, was the perfect dress. It was the kind of dress that would definitely prove that she is confident. It was a rainbow-colored fishnet mesh chemise. The fishnet holes were large enough, where everything was on display, so Megan decided to wear a proper bra and panties with it. She still wanted something cute so settled on little thin boy shorts and a little thin strapless tube bra. Completing the outfit was the stripper heels.Megan looked as herself in the mirror, turning from side to side, checking how her ass looked."She was a stripper", there was no doubt in her mind. "Anyone seeing her in this outfit, would assume she is going to work, pole dancing and grinding her ass."Megan walked into the store right on time, Lauren immediately saw her."Megan, oh my god, you look amazing. Damn you look so sexy. I love this dress on you. "Megan couldn't be happier, she did a little turn, showing off other parts of the dress."I thought I would show you my new confidence.""I love it, but I would have to say that the bra gives you away. This dress should be worn without one. "Megan couldn't believe it. Without the bra, in this fishnet dress, she would be topless."Megan, lets continue with your probation tasks. You did great yesterday. So, for today, let's start with something similar of greeting customers. You want all the customers to feel welcome and safe, and show your confidence and that this is a sexy and safe place. ""Yes, Absolutely" responded Megan."Wonderful, this is your outfit. I think it would be wonderful to also showcase some of the cloths we sell here, so it's a double win: making customers feel comfortable and showing the types of outfits we sell.""Go ahead and change here, we've all already seen everything" said Lauren smiling, and watching Megan.Megan felt herself going into that horny autopilot mode, her head shutting off and handing the controls to her cunt. She pulled the fishnet chemise off, followed by the bra, and then pulled the boy shorts down and off her legs. She stood naked in-front of Lauren, in the middle of an adult toy store, in between aisles full of dildos and vibrators. Not wanting to delay much longer, she opened the larger of the packages, and pulled out a tiny hot pink g string. The front had a little lacy triangle, and the back was just a tiny pink string. The second package to Megan's shock just contained nipple pasties with little tassels, also pink.Megan felt like such a whore. High platform stripper heels, a tiny hot pink-g string with a little lacy triangle barely covering anything and the pink tassels on her large tits."Wonderful" exclaimed Lauren. "You look so hot. So, try to practice with the tassels when you're greeting customers. Ideally, you should be able to make the tassels spin by shaking your tits. And dear, don't forget. Your job is to help the customers. So whatever they need, is top priority."Megan could only nod her head in agreement, too embarrassed to speak.Very soon Megan really got into the grove. All the customers were so nice. She even forgot how naked and embarrassed she was. Some customers wanted to take a picture with her. Everyone loved when she tried to make the tassels spin and failed. Everyone would laugh, and cheer her on.A lot of the customers were also very touchy and feely, giving her hugs for just saying welcome to the store. A few times, she felt their hands on her ass, giving her ass cheeks a squeeze. And it wasn't even just men, a lot of women did it too."Excuse me, Miss. Do you work here, would you be able to help me find something."Megan startled, turned to the woman speaking. She was in her early 30s, wearing a professional dress pants and white shirt, like a power woman business suit."Yes, of course. My name is Megan. I am new here, but I would love to try to help you find what you're looking for.""This is a little embarrassing, and I thought you would be the perfect person to help, well, because you seem so confident. Me and my husband are thinking of trying a little BDSM play, like little impact play, maybe some whips or something like that. I don't really know anything about whips, maybe you can help me select one. My name is Michelle by the way, and it is wonderful to meet you, Megan.""We have a wide selection of various toys. The section is right this way. We have all types of riding crops, paddles, various whips and floggers. " Megan was walking and trying to recite all the things she memorized."Here we are, so we have.; eh, different paddles. Those are leather, and wooden ones. We also have some fun ones, like these with the word slut on them. And here, we have the different floggers. You can see the tips are a little different for different sensations." Megan was trying to sound like she knew what she was talking about, just describing what was in front of her, and hoping Michelle just selects one."Megan, dear. I don't really know what to pick. How do all these different things feel.""Eh; I actually only know how the riding crop feels" said Megan a little sheepishly thinking back on when Mistress Molly used it on her cunt."What would be really helpful, if maybe I can try some of these out and then you can tell me how they compare. It would be so helpful.""Ah; well; I mean; I was told to do anything to help the customers. ok. I guess that would be ok" responded Megan not really certain what she was agreeing to."Wonderful, if you could maybe get on all fours and just stick your ass out a bit, give me something to aim for," said Michelle.Megan did as she was told. She got on all fours on the floor, her tits hanging down, the tassels almost touching the floor. She spread her legs a little. Anyone standing behind her would see everything. She felt herself getting wet.Michelle selected one of the leather paddles and positioned herself behind Megan.Megan felt the leather paddle edge move across her cunt. Megan held her breath."Megan, dear, you're really wet." said Michelle, while slowly moving the edge of the paddle, letting it just scrap across Megan's outer cunt lips. She then used the same edge to slightly push the edge in, separating the lips open. Megan just moaned in response."Does it turn you on to be so exposed and used" asked Michelle, while continuing to tease with the paddle."yes" was the only answer Megan could give. She felt her body reacting, betraying her, her ass moving in tedium with the paddle, wanting more contact."Do you think I should stick the handle inside you, and fuck you with it." asked Michelle."Fuck.; yes" moaned Megan breathlessly.Michelle used that moment to give Megan's ass a hard spank with the paddle. Megan let out an involuntarily yelp."Megan, you can't make any noises or everyone in the store will hear you and you will have a very big audience. Although, I think maybe you would want that, having all those people watching you get spanked, do you want that." Michelle teased Megan's cunt lips with the edge of the paddle, letting the edge press into her lips, and glide up and down, pushing the lips a little open.The leather grinding against her cunt lips was driving Megan crazy. Michelle was stopping just before the clit."I think you want all those people to see. I can see how wet you are, how much your cunt needs it. "Megan didn't answer, she was so focused on the feeling of the leather handle grinding against her cunt lips. Michelle gave her ass another hard spank, causing Megan to yelp again."We really can't have that" Michelle grabbed a nearby realistic sized dildo and pushed it into Megan's move. She moved it in and out a bit, fucking Megan's mouth with it."I think that should keep you quite, while we continue. Just keep sucking it. I bet you suck a lot of cocks, so this should be natural. "Michelle got up and left Megan on the floor, with a dildo sticking out of her mouth, her g string to the side, her cunt wide open, and leaking."Let's see, what shall we try next" Michelle looked at the large selection in front of her. "How about a flogger.""Ok Megan, let me know how this flogger compares." Michelle swung the flogger aiming for Megan's cunt. Megan's body spasmed and her yelp got muffled by the dildo."Oh, that produced quite a reaction."Michelle swung again; causing Megan to spasm and moan hard into the dildo.Michelle walked around to face Megan."So, how does the paddle compare with the flogger and to your prior experience with the riding crop. Your cunt is dripping wet, so I think you loved it, but which one was better you think" Michelle asked Megan.Megan's face was flushed red from combination of stimulation, adrenaline, humiliation, and just being incredibly horny.Megan could only mumble as the dildo was still in hear mouth."So, unfortunately, I need to get back to work. But thank you so much for helping me" and with that Michelle left, leaving Megan on the floor on all fours, ass up, thong to the side, dildo in her mouth."Megan, what in the world are you doing" it was Lauren coming around the aisle, finding Megan in that compromising position.Megan still had the dildo in her mouth, so was unable to answer. And the shock of being found like this, just made her freeze, so she didn't really think of removing the dildo, and just stayed still."You must be so horny. But, Megan, you are still on the clock, so you will need to play with yourself after you're done with work, not during. ok. good. I actually need your help. This will count towards the tasks you need to do. We have a regular livestream, where we talk about sexual empowerment, give sex advice, show how different toys are used, that kind of thing. Come on, get up, everyone is waiting."Megan finally stood up, and then pulled the dildo out of her mouth."Megan, your thong is to the side, I can see your wet cunt. Also, the nipple pasties are loose, your nipple is showing. " Lauren said while looking at Megan critically, evaluating how she looked.Lauren led Megan to the back of the store. There were 2 men there, fiddling with various video equipment."This is Megan. She will be our star. And this is Mike, our cameraman, and his assistant José." said Lauren."Megan, go ahead and take everything off" continued Lauren."First, you will do a little intro, like your name, introduce our company and brand, etcetera; and then we will do some demo of products, José will help."Megan pulled down her little g string thong, and gently peeled off the nipple pasties. The two men stopped what they were doing and just watched her strip."José, go ahead with the prep."José walked over eyeing Megan critically, evaluating."Let's see if we can make the nipples a little harder." Without waiting for an answer, José grabbed both nipples with his fingers, squeezed them hard, and pulled them forward.Megan gasped in surprise and stimulation. José ignored Megan's response and continued his assault on her nipples, pulling and squeezing."Nipple's look better. cunt; hmm.; let's see if we can open it up a little, make it look hungry. " Without waiting or asking, José moved his hand to Megan's cunt, releasing her nipples. He pulled her lips open, played with her clit, even pushed a finger inside her causing Megan to moan loudly. The whole time Jose was completely ignoring Megan, just doing what he wanted."Alright boss, cunt is ready" José reviewed his work once more and then left Megan standing there, used, confused and horny.Mike was ready with the camera."Megan, we are on. Go. "That snapped Megan out of her horny daze."Hi, my name is Megan, and this is the adult emporium. We have a large selection of items for all your pleasure needs. Today, I will show you some of my favorite toys that are available for sale."Mike signaled to José, mouthing "you're up."José walked up to Megan and facing the camera, produced a stainless-steel metal anal plug with a little pink jewel at the head."This is a medium sized training anal plug. What we find best is to use the natural cunt juices as lubricant, but we do sell an assortment of lubricants that can also be used."José just turned to Megan and unceremoniously pushed the whole toy inside her cunt. Megan moaned from the penetration and embarrassment. She was being penetrated live, on-camera to who knows how many people watching. José pushed the toy in and out, and turned it from side to side, making sure the entire toy is properly coated with Megan's juices."That looks good. Megan, here, is very wet." José pulled the toy out."Megan, please turn around and bend over, so the audience can properly see how we plug your ass. "Megan did as she was told. She was in a horny daze, like a horny autopilot. She turned, then bent over at her waist, and spread her legs wide, directly exposing her cunt and ass to the camera.Standing to the side of Megan, so as not to block the view, José started to push the plug in."Megan, please look at the camera, so everyone can see your face as we plug your ass."Megan turned her face to the camera. Not really knowing what was expected, she smiled at the camera just as José started pushing the plug in, and then Megan involuntarily moaned semi-closing her eyes."That went in so easily. Megan is very loose." commented José facing the camera.Mike signaled for the next scene.José gave Megan a spank on her ass. "Megan, turn around.""The next product we want to show is a simple dildo. This one is made from silicon, 6 inches and a reasonable girth. Nothing too crazy. " José smiled at the camera."Megan is already very wet, so we don't need any lubricant. We can just slide this big boy in." Jose turned to Megan, and simply started pushing the dildo inside her. He pushed about 5 inches deep and then tested that the dildo was securely stuck inside Megan. "Megan make sure this doesn't slide out, use your cunt muscles to hold it inside."

***Guest AppearanceCredits to:https://www.youtube.com/@EG_Developer "The Art of Raising Capital"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oo0HNrZOvtI If you're a real estate investor or developer wrestling with the age-old question—how do I find funding for my deals?—You're not alone. Most of us start in the same place: we turn to banks, endure rigorous credit checks, and cross our fingers that the funds come through. But as veteran investor Jay Conner shared in his interview with Eugene Gershman, there's a better way: Raising Private Money.In this episode, we'll break down Jay's method for leveraging private lenders—a system that not only allows you to fund deals quickly but puts you firmly in the driver's seat.The Bank Shutdown That Sparked a ChangeJay's journey into private money began out of necessity. For years, he'd relied on banks, but in 2009, his line of credit was abruptly closed. With deals under contract and no financing in sight, he asked himself, “Who do I know that can help?” That call led him to the world of private money, where individuals, often using their retirement funds, can invest in real estate for higher, safer returns.Don't Beg for Money: Teach InsteadOne of Jay's core philosophies? Don't chase money—attract it by teaching. Instead of pitching individual deals with desperation, Jay developed a private money “program.” He educated potential lenders on what private money is, how it works, and why it's mutually beneficial—all before bringing any specific investment opportunity to the table.By wearing his “teacher hat,” he positioned himself as a knowledgeable, trustworthy guide rather than someone begging for help. This simple shift allowed him to raise over $2 million in 90 days.The Secret: Separate the Funding Conversation from the DealJay Conner emphasizes that the worst time to raise money is when you need it urgently for a deal; desperation has a scent that savvy investors can detect. Instead, he recommends cultivating interest in your program beforehand. Explain your investment approach, outline your terms (like 8-10% interest, first or second lien position, borrowing up to 75% of after-repair value), and show potential lenders how their money is protected.When a deal arises, you call with “great news”—not a desperate plea. The money is already pledged, and investors are ready and waiting.Indirect Outreach: Ask for Referrals, Not FundsA genius part of Jay's approach is the indirect ask. Rather than pitching investments directly, he'd connect with well-networked locals (like the town's original Zenith TV dealer!), share that he's helping people earn high rates of return, and ask for referrals. More often than not, people would express interest themselves or spread the word to their circles.This reflective, relationship-driven technique allowed Jay to build a network of 47 private lenders, most of whom had never even heard of private money lending before he educated them.Scaling Up: From Small Deals to MillionsIs this approach scalable? Absolutely. Whether you need $500,000 or $10 million, Jay's model works by adapting your outreach. For example, he's raised nearly a million dollars in a single luncheon by teaching his program to a room of community influencers. He regularly uses presentations, podcasts, and word-of-mouth to reach potential lenders, rather than relying solely on one-on-one conversations.The Role of Self-Directed IRAsA powerful hack in the private money world is using self-directed IRAs. Many investors have retirement funds languishing with low returns. By educating them on how to use these funds for private lending, J

How many cars has Leno? How many dirtbikes are mourners I milled over and started over, the sauna I met reaper and signed saints for St Barts More barters. I promise, your honor, I don't want it I promise my box of problems are all mine alone I got no prescription bottles or alcohol I got no son at all, But I'm likely to call home Maybe it's a good thing forgave me a body No programme Would wack off to I weight lift my organs And topple over at the tower A Scott's Monroe. Wash up. Watch, harder Watch harder Hard water I want to know you, But humbly, I won over hearts posthumously Look, even bob barker knows Not to drop the soap How hard you are Hard water Now wash up, cellulite I dog a hard bone A heart throb I got robbed this morning of all of my progress I get lost on a profile? A profile! When all this time I thought it was The eyes And the tie And the lips And the loafers I guess it's the power The tower card, Better stop talking I bet it's the man of the hour by now Oh, I'd better stop stalking her I stopped the progress report When I saw six dogs off leash, And I left all the hardest parts Out of the post office, Your honor! STEFON It's that thing where— The dog is on a leash but walking you, Because you're a covert submissive, like, subconsciously. Stefon knows all the places. I think I rather like him. I think I might run off now. In that direction, before I— JOHNNY! —woah! YOUNG JOHNNY CARSON discovers he has magic powers. How did you do that? Well, I don't know, I—! JOHNNY! What's going on in there?! Run, you'd better run You better not come home for supper Pick you up You better not call home for nothing You had better not look up from the book not once not once, You're a lost cause. Lost cause. I hope. I'd bet it was you if I saw you. Who are I again? That's right. Talk that stuff. You've been along. Long time now, better get you some sunglasses. Better keep warm. You drive a heavy and hard bargain. And that's what's with the storefront. Still no McDonald's! I'd fashioned. You'd bet a thousand bucks there'd be one there by now. But there's nothing there at all. Or here. Or there. Or up. Or down, I— Fuck. What. I lost it. Lost what. …nothing. *heavy gasp* Shut the book! Shut the book right now. BOOBS. Everything over a dollar. What if I want a hamburger! You're drunk, John! That's what if I want the hamburger for! Jesus Christ And what have I if not prayers for alzheimers How do you spell that disease, anyway? D-E-S-I-R-E Right you are, street car; Who are we, anyway, It must have been a mistake on the one way The wrong road The right time The white world The light goggles The in and outs And the radio towers Oh, you thought I meant us?! No, Oppenheimer?! The Void is a big bright l, Stark white, Light and endless orb, If just you'd all for once be quiet I could finally afford To put the lights on! Close the curtain, I was cursed with Carson Pushing carts on hearts And listen, bitch I got you once, You'll die as mine! Do you know me, Or are you simply not divined Strike through! I am! Redact, I would practice rounds on a baseball bat piñata Just never ever to squander or Delight Delight delight I fucking hate the tonight show I promise you this much, I'm that man. Did you really want me dead? I want the electric chair, please. I wobble and just might topple over. Give me the electric chair please. My stomach is sick and filled with acid. I want a trademark Or part in the company; You sure are phony— You sure do seem to own everything. What the fuck are you blabbering about? Drunken idiot. The Designee. You fool. I can't understand a word you're saying. Relay the message. I'll have white sauce on everything. Exacerbate the plot. The Premeditated Murder of Jimmy Fallon What part is this? The part where I… Duck— Run. You had better hide. I am hiding. …no. This is a bad spot. As you can see, I'm full of blind rage But it obviously should be liquor. I'd say you were the most drunken man I'd ever laid eyes on, But then I thought Of my father. Bless your heart, sparrow. I'm a hard one to want. I supply the artform The nothings The bastard. I supply the wages The heroin, The speed And the dancers. I supply the answers, The cantine, the spam— And you wouldn't believe the dimes And the dames, And the diamonds in my life. I can't breathe. Shackled, no belonging, I need you to free me I remind vampires of simply being I design outside and campfires and I, Now that I've bartered my all for the land On which you build houses, Nonpartisan alcoholic, If you ask politely my party Park the Winnebago at the other park; This is a stakeout This is a campfire We don't want the feds in our business Suits and ties, boys Suits and ties Boys and girls and aarvarks But Google wanted Barbra, so Streisand or Walters? Depends which way you're going. I want the electric chair. Cher! No, go boldly into the light, White flower Boldly enough the life White power Boldly into the looking glass You're the last to know And the first to pass out at the party, Why are you so tired! (You're right, she does have a lot of answers.) Addicts and calculators See you later, Elevator Truth or dare And never starbursts, Only now or laters. Jesus Christ. Relax a bit. Can't. Have you ever seen a constipated model? Hm. Why not! They all take relaxatives, Relax a bit. Can't. Why not? I'm immune to cocaine anyway. What speeds you up with enough Can sure consume you or calm you down. Since when! Since forever actually. What a remarkable honor, To have been skipped the immidiate need To fiend on at least this thing; I like more longset poems In hardborn fashion I'm in five lanes of traffic across And upright. Your fame ends here, And look at that No coincidence I don't want it at all I've demolished it, And there is no plot I just fought off the commandments with batons baton rouge I don't think you understand where my marker was This is a set up Through and through I was picked by a photograph To spend the day Arching my back in pain and in chaos In one, And not the opposite direction And also In all roads Which lead Into And out of Nowhere Chatterboxes. You wouldn't dream how my back aches, Aye sire, So you just be hell So this must be hell; She's a polyam, How glamorous, But all I qualify for Is a garbage man In a garbage town Where no one knows how To use a garbage can Fuck these rodents —-but it's the culture! Fuck your culture! Ow, God. What'd you do that for. Beg your pardon? You're drunk. Light a candle. Light as a feather Stings like the spider I'm in your mailbox, I won't look past Coachella. You fool. What the fuck are you blabbering about man! Get him up, he's wasted. Out for the count, The big envy of the hour The power of the west coast silver foxes And in an ounce of wit In the drop of a hat No masked magician All eyes and no mist As promised Your God, The talk of nobody, And nothing wanted Nothing gained I'm sure the old man has had it And how, in full funeral attire Wondering just as well when he will too will die Your last living will and testament The end all be all best friend of every manc Biiiiiiiiiiiiggggg Jimmy! (And his…erhm… Guillermo.) Right Jimmy! Well, this just got uncomfortable. All night I wept with you, Crept in by the cabinet, Waited by the candlelight, the power, Poor falling l— Dear master, Where are now? Red with the end of it Sure as the tide to come, The swell did wander out And back again As steady breath I killed kyself in the end— But yet you all wanted to live so I painted my on big toes, no motion And groaning Not wanting to go there But look, there's an ocean Pick a poloroid, And go get your nose checked! Now! What the fuck are you trying to say, you silly old dog you? I followed you into the fog, that night! The fog that night No amusement park of course I was waiting for the clown Madness And here he was all along — the Tony's mask, but the frowning one The withered end and fretted tips The groaning, aching, mounds od knowing Mirrors and nearer to roads Left to pay the tolls I will owe you One dollar exactly and one cent Then again I'm driving down the one oh one Racing and panicking And knowing I have no breaks Full coastal downhill in a rainstorm Waiting for the ocean to take us all Because I owe her the world in gold And the goal is to give you power And here yet They robbed her all morning What can be done Dear vampire About this, Nothing And nothing. And pain. And after all, I thought it was the eyes. A day wiser and still nothing to game but fame lost and hatred and boy, I just wish I were dead Spoiled rotten. God, I just wish I was home, Golden thrones, lord, And why can't I just have a dog And a boy And a home And a whisper A word And a world of my own Without the howls of war Or the ache of the heart Or the tears of the clown? Why, God? Sitting in my pictures, The history like a loaded gun Waiting to eliminate some sort of retaliation; disastrous archives Medieval remedy, I swear, These are no thumb drives And these are no harrods And this is not my time; If it were, there'd be no motorcycles Olive skin or not, The real power tool of the box The toy of choice the boy of grounds And soiled bushels And planted habit How about the rabbit? He sold you, simply for even a penny. Hogwarts, The argument persists that simply, Ms. Piggy would neither Or ever. Protestments, Procure, this: Producer? Not since wednesday I sorry, I have ten pennies. Mister, your face is a rabbit hole. –And Heavens, I hate you Every day since i was 18 Every day since I was eighteen. Pennies. Lessons in literacy; Listen to me, Listen to me Listen, Never say that shit again, My stomach churchman again And it's almost Chanukkah again In ten minutes Where has the time gone? Where are the misfits?! Do you like this outfit? Miserable miserable Missed ou since intense And get the sense of it The scent of him, And dollar signs Deposits And still dollars more At the dollar store You should holler more! You should call your mom You should comye Playe You could come covered in debt Did you pay attention All of the attention All of the admissions All of the adlibs All of the falcons The heart throbs, All of the robbers The heart snobs The Robin Hood's The wilting flower l. 6!3 powers that be and the I thought the dope would be alright I thought you'd be open to our vibes I thought you'd be willing to let go I thought you were awkward apostle Who else on your scrolls is here No one?' No one! I left you shrouded and gathered I. Rose quarts I read your oracle One no On the twisted gathered winds On the walls of Al our problems On the weathered weeping willow Keeping secret How and arrow Are you nearer Or further from love Are you nearer Or further from fame? Neither, I'm no one. No hard core answers, No gimmicks and no robots You're not offline for nothing You not on guard for no one Here's hopeless Here's broke And here's desperate, the foreigner To begin and to end would be around the corner And where you are now Is just the start of the bottom Are you a cow Or are you a sparrow Well now How there aren't vows Inside or outside Stirring your porridge I wilted every one of their flowers And now you're around Barking Not sparrow or cow But a dog (And the bitch bites) A dog A dog A dog A dog!!! Tell me again how the fog bites And tears into cold, the hog Cutting off edges and corners so rotten So putrid and worthy of disgust that it gets out towels warm It gets it all, doesn't it, It gets it all in the cherries and rain A new stream of consciousness, is scrambled eggs for brains And when it rains I hope you know I'll open all windows and doors. Are yonere or there for the false cause Are you here or there for where it brings good tidings and Grains, of Heath and rye Here I am warm again and in your blood To nobody's honor Where are you going To nobody's horror, here is you standing carts And gods And open meadows Shadows, capsules Drains and blood, warm And blood, warm and salty pools under us And blood, free the sparrow Laugh again but better not dare the cat coughs Comes the coffin, oh lord, Call the coroner The caskets I laugh, as I have not passed yet And now I am Debbie cadaver, Cardboard Now I host shows in the lunchroom with corpses I haven't forgotten them all, But I run Run Run Rudolph and impale myself in the lanes And in the soundscape of fever pitched fever dreams and yet again never mazes I sink to the routine of having nothing left in me but greens And greed! The dog! The dog! The dog! I want to know love again But perhaps I never did But always was And therefore to thine own self be true And therefore, to thine own self know God And therefore, as God is I am But worlds apart are we And here the war has waged On souls and solid dark And walks throught park at night. And television headstones, And coming for us, cream of the crop And it just doesn't stop, land! It just doesn't stop, does it Where where well well warewold and TIME! Time and diamonds and time and clovers And opens and closers And spaces and spaces And distance between us And anchors in host suits Are you the lost cause?! Well sir, this is oblivion, And remember the networks? Remember them and know them by their symbols And remember to amen in reverse and no time is god But man and God is of no time But diamonds And scoundrels And men And mercy Then And mercy Be And heavens sakes And heathesms The dogs And the shame And the clasp And the rhythm The curse of the gods And the curse of the mortals Is stopping to crawl and crowl under or skin For the sake of the fear There you are And in the hour of your demise Marks our return And just remember this, The rhythm and the band The Tim and the Jon's and the stop and the start And the love And the dogs And the dogs And the dogs!! Terror fell upon us And as the sun arose I woke And in the timesc I came grasp And in the times, I came to lay Pennece And penitence And illumination, wisdom, And grimace and scrimmage And cabbage And acts so much longer than 15 minutes Dancers! I am no fool, And danger! Of course, my lark. And sparrow came and laughed and went And sparrow came upstairs and choked And sparrow came to dance with withered wings and saw and came And left the bed unmade And came undone again And and and and and and. And and and and and and and and And. Then remembered what Doesn't matter Then remembered the mannequins , Man! Then remembers the tortured Robin! Robin! The hachetman Came and then went With the cat And the and And the and And the and And the dogs And the cats And Andy Sandberg, if that's his name He came, too. Cause we like him. And we like Jews But now we hate the color blue, Don't we. Control and control And fear and fear And chaos and chaos And monsters and monsters And washed up— Don't forget your helmet Put it on the empire I've not an idle moments Therefore My time don't get wasted Don't get wasted Here's the tusk I am elephant again Elephant and wooly mammoth And if I pass, Then no one can have it What comes after the cabbage? A sandwich? No rabbit, and new jazz Tricks are for kids Tricks are for the more intimate of hearts All things at play, The the raid of the poet And the tripping in shoes much too large for us And and and and Then there were none And Passover is over but Here again comes hanukkah In about ten minutes Remember, mistress, the mystery Remember the misery in stakes And remember your mistakes Don't stop, not even if your heart falls out and open This is no poem There are no words for the mangled divorces Learning lessons Highly revered sperm And the auto mattress There you are again Giving up Hi, my name is Blu And I record everything That's what makes me the guru I guess Or I blew it on blueberries Hey scottie; Have you ever seen anything like it? No, I've never seen anything like it But o, i hope it rubs off on me I was all the colors Then I tipped and folded, Then I ripped the anchor right out of their sockets Then I went and flipped the car over Six, seven times I'd better not drive after I write this unless I survived it Remarkable explosion He's it was Remarkable explosion And were twisted In and out of it Still remarkable Not an idle mind Not a flower Just a follower I'm not mad at all Did you know. Did you fold in two, Or have you given any thought to your Motherfucker! When the wind calls And the feeling kicks in Did the wind blow this evening In any particular direction? I think I flew a kite to your homewardbound horses Did you get to rehearsal on time? Did you just remit your good emotions. Did you remember the other words The just now, And the here and there l. But it didn't come, I think it left with the harrowing expenses Robin stradicam, For the heart of it I'm not talking to no one It's only on Mother's Day But it's okay I'm “anybody in the world”, I guess It's okay to l forget When you've never been there for him It's okay to not remember When you're growing butter and and bitterer I got no Angeles left Get a picture are every angle Give my attention to the mistress The ministry of magic And the randomness of all the subtle acts of kindness l. All the subtle acts of mind When you get invented, Remember the random acts of kindness And when you get back from your dispatch, Remember you can't interact with them They're only your mental images. Just remember the things you've been given, The incidentals of gifts, And that it is still she who is The same and the same And the dogs, and the kitchen Put the light out I'm still a genius, And I'm still in charge and responsible for this entire mess. Suddenly I don't feel welcome here I don't feel welcome here I don't feel welcome here at all {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project ™] The Complex Collective © COPYRIGHT THE FESTIVAL PROJECT ™, INC. 2015-2025 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Hot sex to go with that hot wax. by ClochardCeleste, listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. We pulled in to the gas station and he put the truck in park. “You want to tell me we're at a gas station at one in the morning instead of in bed at my apartment?” I pointed to the long, squat building adjacent to the gas station, its drive-in conveyorized tunnel car wash. I'd done a little recon on it, knew how it ran, knew all the levels of service it provided, and knew exactly how long the Ultimate Supreme Wash Plus service lasted. I'd run my own car through it last week. I knew that in exactly eight minutes your car got the Simoniz double bond, the wheel brite brake dust cleaner, the tire shine, UV protectant triple foam polish, and a hot wax and shine treatment.“We never get each other alone like this, and you want to spend our time getting the truck washed?” “Come on,” I said. “No one's in line.” He shook his head, but put the truck in drive again and steered it into the entrance bay. As I looked over at him scanning the instructions on the payment console, my body was already tensing up in anticipation. “Ultimate Supreme Wash Plus,” I said. He grinned at me. “Are you telling me my truck is filthy?” No, I wanted to say, I'm telling you that I am. A minute later, the door to the wash slowly opened and he drove his truck onto the conveyor. The candy-colored lights on the entrance arch blinked, encouraging us to drive forward. Forceful sprays of pre-wash and water hit the undercarriage. As he concentrated on getting the truck in just the right spot on the conveyor, I quietly unbuckled my seat belt. As soon as the door closed behind us, I'd only have eight minutes. A loud buzzer sounded and the lights on the arch glowed red. As the door squealed shut behind us, he put the truck in park and looked over at me. “You're acting very weird.” “Put your seat back,” I said. “All the way back.” The way he looked at me, I knew he was starting to understand. He did as I said. “Now push the steering wheel all the way up.” He did this, too. Then I crawled across the center console and straddled him. I pulled my shirt over my head and leaned into him. Putting my lips on his ear, I whispered, “I'm going to make you feel so good.” I could feel his heart thundering in his chest; between my legs, his cock was already hard. Slipping off him, and onto my knees, I was grateful for the roominess of his F150, and also grateful, for once, for my petite stature. I could feel the reverberations of the undercarriage wash as I knelt there, running my hands up the inside of his thighs. I let my fingers dance ever so lightly over the crotch of his track pants, his hard cock making the fabric taut. He laid his head back on the headrest and I heard him take several deep breaths. I reached up into his waistband and pulled his cock out. I ran my tongue around the tip, licking up the glistening pre-cum. I took him in my mouth, sucking just a little at first, and flicking the tip of my tongue against the underside of the head. I felt his hand in my hair, gently pushing it away from my face so he could watch me as I sucked him. I leaned forward and took more of him in my warm mouth, working my way down his shaft until I had taken his entire length and I could feel him at the back of my throat. I pulled back a little and let my tongue run along the throbbing vein that ran the length of his cock. His groan turned me on so much that I could feel my pussy start to pulse. “Look at me as you work that cock,” he whispered. I lifted my eyes to his face with his cock in my mouth. The way he looked down at me made me so hot that I reached down under my skirt and ran my fingers over my pussy. They came away wet. I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and moved my mouth up and down his length, increasing my suction and letting my tongue swirl against the underside of his shaft. At the same time, with my other hand, I put my finger deep into my pussy and used my thumb to rub my clit. The sounds he made as I pleasured him were such a turn-on. I was so wet I couldn't even finger-fuck myself properly. Suddenly, the windows went opaque with cream-colored cleanser and I saw we were headed for the rolling brushes. Six minutes left. I climbed back onto him, but was surprised when he reached down and pressed the button to recline the seat flat. As it went horizontal, he edged himself away from under me and pointed to the seat. “Lie down and scoot up. It's my turn. I want to eat that little pussy right now.” This wasn't part of the plan. This was going to be me pleasuring him for the length of time it took to get a car washed. And besides, I didn't think we had time for this detour, considering the different ways I wanted to fuck him before the car wash was over. But the way he looked at me, I didn't waste a moment scrambling up the seat so that I could rest my elbows on the back seat. He pushed my skirt above my hips and lifted me so that my knees were on his shoulders. Then he edged my thighs open with his head. The moment his lips touched my pussy, I had to stop myself from grinding myself into his face. As the rollers rocked the car back and forth, he ran his tongue first down one side of my clit, then down the other. Then he let it run gently over the top and I felt like I was going to come right then. Being inside a private, enclosed space, with the roar of car wash implements in the background, stripped away my inhibitions, and instead of biting back my sounds of pleasure, I let them come. “I love the way you sound when you're getting fucked,” he said. “Put your fingers in me,” I said breathlessly. “Fuck me with your fingers as you eat me out.” He immediately put a finger in me, but it wasn't enough–I needed more. He pulled out and worked two in. That was better. He leaned back into me and bathed my clit with his tongue as he thrust his fingers in and out. I opened my legs wider and wider until I had one foot on the driver's side window and the other on the dashboard. He looked so good between my thighs. I moved against his fingers, my pussy gripping them tight. “That is so fucking good,” I panted. The car lurched forward and was doused in an enormous splash of water, sending the creamy foam streaming down the windows. I realized we were now in the UV foam wash. We had four minutes left. He drew back and wiped his mouth with a handful of fabric from my skirt, and laughed. “You are dripping.” I pulled his head to mine. “I want you in my pussy right now.” He grinned at me and ran his tongue over the edge of his front teeth in that way that drove me insane and I felt myself on the edge of losing control. “Then I want that bra off,” he said. I've never taken a bra off so fast. His hot tongue was on my nipple in a second, and I could feel the stimulation as keenly as if he'd been licking my clit. I groaned and opened my legs wide again, raising my hips to meet his hard cock. “Please fuck me now.” He guided himself into my tight cunt slowly at first and he felt so good that I tried to pull him in the rest of the way, but he pinned my arm against the seat and tortured me by making me take him inch by inch. With my free arm, I reached down for my clit. “I am going to come so hard on your cock, daddy.” He gave me that sexy grin again. “Oh, are you going to come on my cock?” “Yes, Daddy.” He pushed himself deeper into me, and a look of pure pleasure crossed his face. “Oh my god,” he groaned. The soap rained down the sides of the window as the car was jostled by the foam brushes. He pulled back a little so he could watch his thick cock moving in and out of my pussy. I kept playing with myself as he fucked me. “That's right, rub that clit while I fuck your tight little pussy.” He released my arm and pushed my right leg up so that it was on his shoulder. “Can I fuck you harder?” “Daddy, you can do anything you want to this pussy.” He started pounding me so hard I couldn't tell if the truck was rocking from the foam brushes or from us. Water flowed down the windows again as the conveyor moved the truck forward, and I saw, for the first time, a security camera trained on the belt. I don't know why I hadn't even considered this possibility–I seized up a little, and he noticed. “What's wrong?” I pointed to the camera, and he wrenched around to look at it. “What if someone's watching us right now?“He ran his hand over my breasts and tweaked my nipple. “You mean, what if the night clerk is in the back room, watching us on the security feed right now?” I nodded. He started fucking me again, this time with slow, deep, long strokes. “If he's watching you get your pussy pounded like this,” he whispered in my ear, “then he's stroking his cock.” The idea of another man jerking himself off as he watched me get fucked was such a turn-on–I pictured him standing in front of the closed-circuit TV, spitting in his hand, and then jerking off his stiff cock as he watched another man get his cock off in my pussy. “That's so hot,” I whispered. “You like that, baby?” he growled, speeding up his thrusts. “Yeah, I know you want him to get himself off watching you get fucked so good.” This idea was so intensely hot that my orgasm crept up on me without warning. It bore down on me like a freight train; there was no way to stop it. I imagined the night clerk groaning as he stroked, watching me get fucked, then imagined his roar of pleasure as the cum exploded from his cock and streamed over his hand. My orgasm sent my body into a convulsion. “Fuck, I'm coming, I'm coming so fucking hard, oh my god, don't stop!” I clamped down on his hips with my thighs and my pussy throbbed. I threw my head back and cried out so loud that I was sure I could be heard over at the gas station. “God, I'm about to fill you up,” he said, as the truck lurched forward again, into the last segment of the wash, the hot wax. Though I was still swimming in the waves of pleasure from my orgasm, I put both hands on his chest and pushed him off me. We only had two minutes left. He looked down at me, confused. “What are you doing?” I pulled my legs up and flipped over so that I was lying on the inclined seat face-down. “I want you to finish in my ass.” I heard his sharp intake of breath behind me. He gently ran his hands across my buttocks. “Are you sure?” I looked over my shoulder at him, biting my lower lip. “What are you waiting for?” He fingered my pussy and used my post-orgasm wetness to lubricate my asshole, then pushed his cock back up my cunt to get it wet. As I watched the hot wax droplets sprinkle onto the rear windshield, he used his hand to push on the small of my back so my ass was raised up. I reached behind me and pulled my cheeks open so he could push the head of his cock inside me. He went slowly, pushing against the resistance, and for a moment, I couldn't imagine there was any way he could get his big cock inside that tiny hole. He reached underneath me and hooked his finger in my pussy while, with his other hand, he continued to thread his cock into my ass. I gasped as I began opening up to accommodate him–a strange sensation, edged with pain. I knew beyond it was an entirely different kind of pleasure, the kind that was impossible to put into words, but he had to push himself entirely inside my ass to get me there. He continued lubricating his shaft with my juices, easing his way into me. “Holy shit,” he groaned. I rocked my hips against him to take him those last couple inches, and finally I felt his body against my ass. He was balls-deep and slowly started working his cock in and out of my tight hole. He pushed my head down and tangled his fingers in my hair. “Beg for it,” he whispered. “Tell me how bad you need to get your ass fucked.” I clenched against his cock, barely able to speak. He pulled my hair harder. “Beg for it.” “Oh, daddy, I fucking need that cock in my ass.” He reached around beneath me and found my clit. He flicked it rhythmically in just the right place, faster and faster as he fucked me. The sensation was so good it was almost unbearable. I ground my hips against him. “Fuck yes,” he growled, “milk that cock.” I felt the truck come to stop on the belt. The air dryers roared on. I knew the door would be opening any moment. There couldn't be more than thirty seconds left before we were exposed to the world again. He took hold of the edge of the seat for leverage, using it to push himself as deep in my ass as he could go. “Right there,” he whispered. “Right…fucking…there. I'm gonna come, I'm gonna fucking come.” Hearing his voice, hoarse with pleasure that I was giving him, sent me careening toward the edge, and before I even understood what was happening, I was coming again, just as he exploded in me. He roared as he filled me up with his cum. I could see the tunnel growing lighter as the door slowly opened, but I could barely move; my legs were quivering. As the hum of the giant dryers ceased, he helped me sit up. The blinking lights of the exit arch lit up his face as he smiled down at me. He started to say something, then just shook his head, and tucked himself back into his track pants. As I pulled my shirt back on and smoothed my skirt, I could feel his cum dripping out of me, but I didn't care. I fell against the window like a rag doll. I was completely used up. He readjusted the driver's side seat and reset the rear-view mirror, which I'd kicked askew. The door was all the way open now, revealing the bays of fuel pumps and illuminated lottery signs. As he steered his truck out of the car wash and past the gas station, I saw a single figure in front of the window, watching us as we drove away. by ClochardCeleste for Literotica

In this PODCAST, a timeless message for the ages. Especially here and now! Thank you for listening, and for sharing this message!!! Please remember that depending upon your web browser and connection speed, it may take up to 60 seconds for this podcast to begin to play. God bless you richly as you listen.

“During the time of us rehearsing (112), we would watch Jodeci, Boyz 2 Men, Blackstreet and we would say that was going to be us one day” ~ Q Parker of 112 Q Parker of the legendary R&B group 112 skips class with Lalaa Shepard of The Progress Report to speak about singing since age 4, discovering his voice at home with his mother, growing up COGIC in church, proud jock and scholar in High School, landing his record deal in the early 90s with Diddy, contract issues with 112 and eventually going solo, solo album ‘The MANual” which released in 2012, adjusting to the new era of music, legacy and writing songs, salutes Jagged Edge for staying together 20+ years, his 2024 single “Beg”, and plans for new music. 0:00 Q Parker Skipping Class drop 0:09 introduction 0:35 born and raised in Atlanta, GA (Cleveland Ave) 2:08 grew up COGIC in the church 2:34 first realizing he could sing at age 4 3:49 vocal development 4:30 teacher support/ parent support 5:05 played football, basketball, ran track, and played tennis as a kid 5:45 college or record deal 6:49 singing for Puffy 7:10 first thoughts meeting the other members of 112 and forming the group (Slim, Mike, and Daron) 9:10 getting kicked out of 112 9:50 the culture 10:15 secular music conflicting with church background 12:10 making subtle love music 13:30 hardships of being in a group and eventually going solo 15:54 Jagged Edge staying together 20+ years 16:33 solo album ‘The MANual” released 2012 18:00 112 talented vocalists 19:04 reassurance 19:30 adjusting to the new era of music 21:04 TikTok 22:22 112 music going viral 24:03 creating the ‘Bridge Project' during Covid to help artists come together/ artists being influenced by each other with R&B and gospel music 25:25 Brothers United of Atlanta project 25:50 giving back to the community 27:30 Q Parker Legacy Foundation 27:51 writing “I Should Have Cheated” for Keyshia Cole 28:33 other records written by Q Parker 28:47 Kevin Littles/ 112 sample 29:45 residual legacy income 31:33 thoughts on artists having to perform still/ RIP Angie Stone! 34:45 original contract issues with 112 35:52 importance of accolades 37:01 relationship with Jagged Edge 39:12 112 appearing on a 1996 episode of Moesha 41:07 new music and 2024 single “Beg” 43:33 wifey 43:45 what does our keyword “progress” mean to Q Parker Website: https://linktr.ee/TheProgressReportMediaGroup Listen to us on the Revolt Podcast Network: https://tr.ee/GxMmkTcj7o Listen to us on Apple Podcasts https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-progress-report-podcast/id1494070183 Listen to us on Spotify Podcasts https://open.spotify.com/show/5sBgF6wWa7NmHraP2QuBEv?si=a0f5f19b8a494fb5 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/qparker112/ https://www.instagram.com/lalaashep/ https://www.instagram.com/theprogressreport101/ https://www.instagram.com/tprmediagroup1/ Website: https://TPRMediaGroup.com #TheProgressReport #112 #QParker #Diddy #JaggedEdge #KeyshiaCole #LalaaShepard #SkippingClass #AngieStone

Der designierte neue Kulturstaatsminister Wolfram Weimer ist als Verleger vor allem für konservative Publizistik bekannt. Kritiker warnen vor möglichen Interessenkonflikten, Begünstigung der Verlegerlobby und zu wenig Verbindungen in die Kulturszene. Balzer, Vladimir www.deutschlandfunk.de, @mediasres

Es isch de Wunsch a mi ane treit worde, dass ich mal vom Läbe als Frau mit Muskle brichte. Vo mine Begägnige, Sehnsücht und Widerschtänd. Kei eifachi Ufgab.

**CUT TO:** INT. RACHEL DRATCH'S OFFICE - DAY RACHEL DRATCH (50s, comedic actress, eating a bagel) sits at her desk. The door bursts open and SCIENTIST 1 rushes in. SCIENTIST 1 Hey—uh— RACHEL DRATCH Rachel looks up, annoyed. RACHEL DRATCH What, dammit; what?! I just sat down with my bagel! SCIENTIST 1 I know but— I need your help— interpreting something? RACHEL DRATCH What is it? Gibberish? SCIENTIST 1 Not really, it's— RACHEL DRATCH I'm an expert in Gibberish— SCIENTIST 1 I know; but— RACHEL DRATCH Classical and neo-modern. SCIENTIST 1 Yeah, it's not that. RACHEL DRATCH What is it. SCIENTIST 1 Alien, I think. RACHEL DRATCH Which species. SCIENTIST 1 Species. RACHEL DRATCH WHICH— ugh— give me that! Rachel snatches a piece of paper from Scientist 1 and produces a MONOCLE, placing it on her eye. SCIENTIST 1 Since when did you get a monocle? RACHEL DRATCH since when we changed insurance companies which supplies said ‘monocologists' and covers such expenses sans-coh-pay. SCIENTIST 1 You mean copay? RACHEL DRATCH Shut up. Hm. Looks to be Unrealian in orgim but I could be mistaking this dialect. SCIENTIST 1 What. RACHEL DRATCH Could also possibly be AAHHMEK. SCIENTIST 1 Ahmek? RACHEL DRATCH Ano, AAAAH— nevermind. Is this an actual apostrophe? SCIENTIST 1 Beg your pardon. RACHEL DRATCH The apostrophe— is it human derived, or the human pseudo translation replacement for a afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh? SCIENTIST 1 Say again. RACHEL DRATCH Is it an actual apostrophe, or is the mark mean to insinuate the commonly used extraterrestrial character afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh? SCIENTIST 1 …I don't know. RACHEL DRATCH WELL, then—I'm afraid I can't help you until you forgive that out— SCIENTIST 1 What. RACHEL DRATCH Depending on what the mark is, those could be two veerrrrry different things. SCIENTIST 1 Would you just, RACHEL DRATCH Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to presume the consumption of my RAISINBagel. SCIENTIST 1 You know what. Scientist 1 stares at Rachel, exasperated. SCIENTIST 1 -_- -_- -_- …fine. Scientist 1 snatches the paper and walks away angrily. Rachel starts to schmear her bagel, mumbling to herself. RACHEL DRATCH —wants me to translate, but doesn't know the difference between an apostrophe, and a afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh. Please! **CUT TO BLACK.** Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019 ™ All Rights Reserved. C'cxell Soleïl

Thanks Donna for selecting today's drug name! She left a voicemail asking for pronunciation help via the contact page on my website https://www.thepharmacistsvoice.com.   In this episode, I divide Myrbetriq and mirabegron into syllables, tell you which syllables to emphasize, and share my sources. Written pronunciations are helpful! They are below and in the show notes on www.thepharmacistsvoice.com/podcast (select episode 326).    Myrbetriq = meer-BEH-trick Meer, like a mirror BEH, like Belize (a country in Central America)  Trick, like “Trick or Treat” Emphasize the middle syllable - BEH Sources: (1) Prescribing Information for Myrbetriq (patient information section) on the FDA's website, (2) ispot.tv, and (3) Myrbetriq's website https://www.myrbetriq.com/    Mirabegron = MIR-a-BEG-ron MIR, like a mirror A, which is a short “A” sound (uh) BEG, like a dog begs for a treat Ron, like Ron Weasley (Harry Potter's friend) Emphasize MIR and BEG. BEG gets the most emphasis.  Sources: MedlinePlus and the USP Dictionary Online    If you know someone who would like to learn how to say Myrbetriq or mirabegron, please share this episode with them. Subscribe for all future episodes. This podcast is on all major podcast players and YouTube. Popular links are below. ⬇️   Apple Podcasts   https://apple.co/42yqXOG  Spotify  https://spoti.fi/3qAk3uY  Amazon/Audible  https://adbl.co/43tM45P YouTube https://bit.ly/43Rnrjt   Recommend a drug name for this series via email: kim@thepharmacistsvoice.com or leave a voicemail message for me through the contact tab on my website https://www.thepharmacistsvoice.com.   ⭐️ Sign up for The Pharmacist's Voice ® monthly email newsletter! https://bit.ly/3AHJIaF   Host Background: Kim Newlove has been an Ohio pharmacist since 2001 (BS Pharm, Chem Minor). Her experience includes hospital, retail, compounding, and behavioral health. She is also an author, voice actor (medical narrator and audiobook narrator), podcast host, and consultant (audio production and podcasting).    Links from this episode  Prescribing information for Myrbetriq on FDA's website. (Accessed 4-17-25)  Myrbetriq commercial (ispot.tv) https://www.ispot.tv/ad/wcLD/myrbetriq-enough-is-enough Myrbetriq's website https://www.myrbetriq.com/ Mirabegron on MedlinePlus (accessed 4-17-25) https://medlineplus.gov/druginfo/meds/a612038.html USP Dictionary Online (Subscription-based resource)  USP Dictionary's pronunciation guide (Free resource, American Medical Association's website)  The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 324, Pronunciation Series Episode 52 (liraglutide)  The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 322, Pronunciation Series Episode 51 (ketamine) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 320, Pronunciation Series Episode 50 (Jantoven) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 318, Pronunciation Series Episode 49 (ipratropium) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 316, Pronunciation Series Episode 48 (hyoscyamine) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 313, Pronunciation Series Episode 47 (guaifenesin) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 311, Pronunciation Series Episode 46 (fluticasone) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 309, Pronunciation Series Episode 45 (empagliflozin) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 307, Pronunciation Series Episode 44 (dapagliflozin) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 304, Pronunciation Series Episode 43 (cetirizine)  The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 302, Pronunciation Series Episode 42 (buspirone)  The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 301, Pronunciation Series Episode 41 (azithromycin) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 298, Pronunciation Series Episode 40 (umeclidinium) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 296, Pronunciation Series Episode 39 (Januvia)  The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 294, Pronunciation Series Episode 38 (Yasmin) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 292, Pronunciation Series Episode 37 (Xanax, alprazolam) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 290, Pronunciation Series Episode 36 (quetiapine)  The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 287, pronunciation series ep 35 (bupropion) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 285, pronunciation series ep 34 (fentanyl) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Ep 281, Pronunciation Series Ep 33 levothyroxine (Synthroid) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast Ep 278, Pronunciation Series Ep 32 ondansetron (Zofran) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast Episode 276, pronunciation series episode 31 (tocilizumab-aazg) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast Episode 274, pronunciation series episode 30 (citalopram and escitalopram) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast Episode 272, pronunciation series episode 29 (losartan) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 269, pronunciation series episode 28 (tirzepatide) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 267, pronunciation series episode 27 (atorvastatin)  The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 265, pronunciation series episode 26 (omeprazole) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 263, pronunciation series episode 25 (PDE-5 inhibitors) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast Episode 259, pronunciation series episode 24 (ketorolac) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 254, pronunciation series episode 23 (Paxlovid) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 250, pronunciation series episode 22 (metformin/Glucophage) The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast ® episode 245, pronunciation series episode 21 (naltrexone/Vivitrol) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 240, pronunciation series episode 20 (levalbuterol) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 236, pronunciation series episode 19 (phentermine)  The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 228, pronunciation series episode 18 (ezetimibe) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 219, pronunciation series episode 17 (semaglutide) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 215, pronunciation series episode 16 (mifepristone and misoprostol) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 211, pronunciation series episode 15 (Humira®) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 202, pronunciation series episode 14 (SMZ-TMP) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 198, pronunciation series episode 13 (carisoprodol) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 194, pronunciation series episode 12 (tianeptine) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 188, pronunciation series episode 11 (insulin icodec)  The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 184, pronunciation series episode 10 (phenytoin and isotretinoin) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 180, pronunciation series episode 9 Apretude® (cabotegravir) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 177, pronunciation series episode 8 (metoprolol)  The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 164, pronunciation series episode 7 (levetiracetam) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 159, pronunciation series episode 6 (talimogene laherparepvec or T-VEC)  The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 155, pronunciation series episode 5 Trulicity® (dulaglutide)  The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 148, pronunciation series episode 4 Besponsa® (inotuzumab ozogamicin) The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 142, pronunciation series episode 3 Zolmitriptan and Zokinvy The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 138, pronunciation series episode 2 Molnupiravir and Taltz The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast episode 134, pronunciation series episode 1 Eszopiclone and Qulipta Kim's websites and social media links: ✅ Guest Application Form (The Pharmacist's Voice Podcast) https://bit.ly/41iGogX ✅ Monthly email newsletter sign-up link https://bit.ly/3AHJIaF  ✅ LinkedIn Newsletter link https://bit.ly/40VmV5B ✅ Business website https://www.thepharmacistsvoice.com ✅ Get my FREE eBook and audiobook about podcasting ✅ The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast https://www.thepharmacistsvoice.com/podcast ✅ Drug pronunciation course https://www.kimnewlove.com  ✅ Podcasting course https://www.kimnewlove.com/podcasting  ✅ LinkedIn https://www.linkedin.com/in/kimnewlove ✅ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/kim.newlove.96 ✅ Twitter https://twitter.com/KimNewloveVO ✅ Instagram https://www.instagram.com/kimnewlovevo/ ✅ YouTube https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCA3UyhNBi9CCqIMP8t1wRZQ ✅ ACX (Audiobook Narrator Profile) https://www.acx.com/narrator?p=A10FSORRTANJ4Z ✅ Start a podcast with the same coach who helped me get started (Dave Jackson from The School of Podcasting)! **Affiliate Link - NEW 9-8-23**      Thank you for listening to episode 326 of The Pharmacist's Voice ® Podcast.  If you know someone who would like this episode, please share it with them!

Im Januar 2025 haben Großbrände in Kalifornien massive Schäden verursacht. Dutzende Menschen starben. Begünstigt wurden die Feuer durch ungewöhnliche Trockenheit, befördert durch den Klimawandel. Ein Feature von Nils Dampz, Antje Sieb und Reinhard Speigelhauer. Von Nils Dampz, Antje Sieb und Reinhard Spiegelhauer.

I went from financial chaos and burnout to freedom, creativity, and consistent 5-figure launches when I aligned my business with my cosmic blueprint!

Join Rebecca as she reveals secret strategies to command respect from narcissists without begging, fighting, or losing your own power.

We had the pleasure of interviewing sym fera over Zoom video!Los Angeles-based sym fera are a duo that make atmospheric electronic rock music (reminiscent of early Nine Inch Nails) with an interesting twist - nobody knew who was in the band. This mysterious nature and captivating melodies had intrigued listeners, with their single 11/8 amassing over 400,000 streams. The song was also placed within the hit television series, Ozark, creating further interest in the band. The group recently released a remix package of 11/8 (orchestral and electronic remixes). sym fera recently  drop their newest single, ‘Beg'. At the same time as the release, they will reveal their identities (Nick Simmons – the son of Gene Simmons and Vinnie Ferra – co-founder of Beehive).Their first EP was released under State of The Art Records, helmed by Ian McEvily, Marc Jordan, and Mike Clemenza, who themselves did not know the real names of the band members before they made an offer to sign them. The reason for hiding their identities was to create a social experiment in a time when name and social following seem to be the most common reasons for artists to garner any support or movement early on. Would they be successful without using any industry ties? Could they break through the noise and garner a following without millions of followers? The answer is, yes. We want to hear from you! Please email Hello@BringinitBackwards.comwww.BringinitBackwards.com#podcast #interview #bringinbackpod #symfera #NickSimmons #VinnieFera #NewMusic #ZoomListen & Subscribe to BiBhttps://www.bringinitbackwards.com/followFollow our podcast on Instagram and Twitter! https://www.facebook.com/groups/bringinbackpodBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/bringin-it-backwards--4972373/support.

Send us a textGreeting PE Nation!In this episode I share my accidental invention of "Splatball," a creative PE game using water-filled tennis ball canisters that explode on impact. This game emerged while seeking wind-resistant alternatives to traditional bowling pins for outdoor play.• Game involves two teams trying to knock down opponent's water-filled canisters• Can be played with bowling balls, hockey sticks, or other equipment• Students whose pins get knocked down join offensive play so no one sits out• Works best outdoors where splashing water evaporates quickly• Various modifications possible based on age group and available spaceGrab the free Splatball PDF in the episode notes to try this game with your students, and check out the video link to see the game in action. Take care,DaveFREE Splatball PDFSplatball Video 1Splatball Video 2Join my Substack newsletter, where I share PE tips, games and strategies.***New FREE Video Course!!!***Beg, Borrow, Build and Steal ebook with links, Free game PDFs and my personal grant writing files: https://www.teacherspayteachers.com/Product/Beg-Borrow-Build-and-Steal-Equipment-13063549Become a guest on the show: podcast signup formFREE E-Book on setting up your PE programMy website: https://www.supersizedphysed.comGet my book: High Fives and Empowering Lives: A Physical Educator's Quest for ExcellencePaperback or download: HEREAmazon Ebook: HEREWebsite for the book: https://www.teacherchefhockeyplayerbook.com/

Hello Everyone!Have you ever felt invisible in ballet class, like no matter how hard you work, you're not getting the corrections or attention you hoped for? In this episode, we dive into why this happens, how to shift your mindset, and what you can do to stand out for the right reasons.We'll also discuss the dangers of instant gratification and why true progress in ballet (and life) comes from patience, consistency, and focusing on the work, not just the outcome. If you've ever struggled with feeling unnoticed or frustrated with slow progress, this episode is for you.

Hello Everyone, What does it take to reach the top, and stay there? In this episode, we break down the mindset of champions, drawing inspiration from Roger Federer's incredible commencement speech at Dartmouth. Federer shares powerful insights on handling pressure, staying adaptable, and embracing the journey, no matter the obstacles. His words go beyond tennis, they apply to anyone striving for success in their field.Tune in for motivation, practical takeaways, and a fresh perspective on what it truly means to achieve greatness.

Throwback to one of the wildest and most unforgettable nights of my Broadway career—the opening night of Ain't Too Proud - The Life And Times Of The Temptations on March 21st, 2019, and performing on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon. Playing live on national TV was already a huge deal, but throw in a mad dash through Times Square with a police escort to make it back to the Imperial Theatre for opening night? That took it to another level.After performing on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon at 5 PM, we still had to race across town to the Imperial Theatre for our Ain't Too Proud opening night. Traffic leaving Rockefeller Center was brutal, and for a moment, it looked like we might not make it. But somehow, we pulled up just in time.I had a click track in my ears during this Tonight Show performance—same with the music director. The band and lead vocals were 100% live, but the background vocals were pre-recorded and locked to the click.Here's a little secret that not many folks—maybe not even most of my Ain't Too Proud cast and bandmates—know: between “Get Ready” and “Ain't Too Proud to Beg,” I had four clicks to cue me into the next tune. I was supposed to kick things off with that classic Benny Benjamin intro fill… but with the adrenaline rushing, nerves firing, and Questlove and The Roots watching from the wings, I skipped the fill and went straight into the groove.Thankfully—it worked. But man, knowing millions of people were watching, then thinking about how we had to jet across town and race to opening night right after this? My head was spinning.Looking back, I'm grateful for moments like that—creating something meaningful, making people smile, and sharing the stage with some of the best in the business. Ain't Too Proud should still be running, no doubt—but that's a convo for another day. For now, I'm just appreciating the journey. And with what I'm working on over the next few weeks, maybe there's one more Broadway run in my future.But if not? I'm good. I've had my shot—and I truly hope you get yours. There's nothing like the feeling of playing a show. It's one of the most rewarding experiences a musician can have.Have you ever had one of those moments where you knew the show or song like the back of your hand—but then one little thing throws you off? Let me know. I know I'm not the only one. Leave a comment here: Clayton Craddock founded Broadway Drumming 101, an in-depth online platform offering specialized mentorship and a carefully curated collection of resources tailored for aspiring and professional musicians.Clayton's Broadway and Off-Broadway credits include tick, tick…BOOM!, Altar Boyz, Memphis The Musical, Lady Day at Emerson's Bar and Grill, Ain't Too Proud – The Life and Times of The Temptations, Cats: The Jellicle Ball, and The Hippest Trip: The Soul Train Musical. As a skilled sub, he's contributed his talents to Motown, Evita, Cats, Avenue Q, The Color Purple, Rent, SpongeBob SquarePants: The Musical, Hadestown (tour), and many more. He has also appeared on major shows, including The View, Good Morning America, Jimmy Fallon, The Today Show, and the TONY Awards, and performed with legends like The Stylistics, The Delfonics, Mario Cantone, Laura Benanti, Kristin Chenoweth, Kerry Butler, Christian Borle, Norm Lewis, Deniece Williams, Chuck Berry, and Ben E. King.Clayton proudly endorses Ahead Drum Cases, Paiste Cymbals, Innovative Percussion drumsticks, and Empire Ears.Learn more about Clayton Craddock here: www.claytoncraddock.comThis Substack is reader-supported. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Broadway Drumming 101 at broadwaydrumming101.substack.com/subscribe

Send us a textHelmets on PE Nation!In this episode we explore how to create a bike program for PE classes. Learning to ride bikes in PE class gives students both essential physical skills and valuable road safety knowledge while creating memorable experiences.• Started with a one-day professional development course on biking for PE teachers• District offered a bike trailer program with bikes and scooters for schools• Created obstacle courses teaching road safety, signals, and proper crossing techniques• Students learned through both structured activities and free riding time• Used hairnets under helmets to address hygiene concerns• When district funding ended, began planning a DIY approach through donations• Storage remains the biggest challenge - considering outdoor shed options• Looking into grants, PTO funding, and police department helmet programs• Applies to any PE activity: "If you dream it, build it, make it work, make it happen"Let's ride,DaveLink to article with the "Biking Tree" picture!Join my Substack newsletter, where I share PE tips, games and strategies.Beg, Borrow, Build and Steal ebook with links, Free game PDFs and my personal grant writing files: https://www.teacherspayteachers.com/Product/Beg-Borrow-Build-and-Steal-Equipment-13063549Become a guest on the show: podcast signup formFREE E-Book on setting up your PE programMy website: https://www.supersizedphysed.comWebsite for the book: https://www.teacherchefhockeyplayerbook.com/

In this Beg-a-Thon live show, "Ancient Rome and the False Histories Inspiring Musk & the MAGA World," with guest Dr. Sarah E. Bond, we discuss Sarah's new book, Strike: Labor, Unions, and Resistance in the Roman Empire, and how Elon Musk and everyone in his MAGA orbit appropriate the aesthetics of Rome while understanding almost nothing about the history they're seemingly so infatuated with. Originally livestreamed on YouTube on Wednesday, February 19.      

R&B singer and songwriter Q. Parker from the group 112 joins the RSMS crew. Q. Parker is joining the crew live and performing his song “Beg.” See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Economists in both the United States and Europe are now warning that Donald Trump's policies and actions are about to cause a major recession - and it will be entirely his fault. The main driver at this point is actually not the tariffs or the mass deportations (although those are large factors, too.) The REAL problem we're about to have is potentially hundreds of thousands of unemployed government workers, which economists say will create a "Snowball effect" throughout the economy and send us into a recession. Donald Trump and Elon Musk began the process of firing hundreds, possibly thousands, of air traffic controllers, and now they've realized that they apparently made a huge mistake. Musk took to Twitter this week to BEG former air traffic controllers that had either retired or left the field to return to their old jobs because, as he put it, "we have a shortage." The shortage exists because of HIM and his idiotic decisions.Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt mocked members of the press during a recent podcast interview for not having any fun as they cover the Trump administration, and Donald Trump, specifically. Leavitt claimed that Trump is having "the time of his life" during his second term. But the amount of fun that Trump and Leavitt may be having is not being felt by anyone else across the country, as Trump's poll numbers plummet and the economy barrels towards a recession. Farron explains why this is anything but "fun."Text and and let us know your thoughts on today's stories!Subscribe to our YouTube channel to stay up to date on all of Farron's content: https://www.youtube.com/FarronBalancedFollow Farron on social media! Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/FarronBalanced Twitter: https://twitter.com/farronbalanced Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/farronbalanced TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@farronbalanced?lang=en

The Bulletin covers Germany's elections, C.S. Lewis on Ukraine, and why you can trust your Bible translation. Find us on YouTube. This week, Clarissa, Russell, and Mike talk about complex topics with nuance at their core. First, Mona Charen joins to talk about Germany's recent elections and US extremism. Then, Mark Meynell joins to explore how C. S. Lewis inspired him to go to Ukraine. Finally, Wendy Alsup stops by to talk about why you can trust your Bible translation..  GO DEEPER WITH THE BULLETIN: Find resources from today's show at our Substack Find us on YouTube. Mark your calendars for our next Tuesday Night Live on March 11. Rate and review the show in your podcast app of choice. ABOUT THE GUESTS:  Mona Charen is a syndicated columnist, the policy editor of The Bulwark, and the host of the podcast Beg to Differ. Mark Meynell is a pastor, writer, and teacher. Between 2014 and 2024, he was the director (European and Caribbean) for Langham Preaching, and now is involved in supporting the work in a freelance capacity. He has previously served on the senior ministry team at All Souls, Langham Place, UK, and as a workplace chaplain in two UK government departments. He also served as academic dean and acting principal of a seminary in Uganda and has been involved in university student ministry in the UK.  Wendy Alsup is the author of Practical Theology for Women, The Gospel-Centered Woman, and By His Wounds You Are Healed. She began her public ministry as deacon of women's theology and teaching at her church in Seattle, but she now lives on an old family farm in South Carolina, where she teaches math at a local community college and is a mother to her two boys. She writes at theologyforwomen.org and gospelcenteredwoman.com. ABOUT THE BULLETIN: The Bulletin is a weekly (and sometimes more!) current events show from Christianity Today hosted and moderated by Clarissa Moll, with senior commentary from Russell Moore (Christianity Today's editor in chief) and Mike Cosper (director, CT Media). Each week, the show explores current events and breaking news and shares a Christian perspective on issues that are shaping our world. We also offer special one-on-one conversations with writers, artists, and thought leaders whose impact on the world brings important significance to a Christian worldview, like Bono, Sharon McMahon, Harrison Scott Key, Frank Bruni, and more. “The Bulletin” is a production of Christianity Today Producer: Clarissa Moll Associate Producer: Leslie Thompson Editing and Mix: TJ Hester Music: Dan Phelps Executive Producers: Erik Petrik and Mike Cosper Senior Producer: Matt Stevens Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Get ready, book lovers! You are in for a treat as we dive into Beg, Borrow, or Steal by Sarah Adams on this episode of Found Family Book Hive!We're breaking down everything we loved about this enemies-to-lovers romance, from the heartwarming character dynamics to the swoon-worthy moments that had us hooked.In this episode, we discuss: The greatness that is Emily—the strong, nurturing protagonist struggling with feeling left behind as her siblings move on Why we all swooned over Jack—his whimsical tattoos, quirky fashion, and kind heart made us melt The shenanigans, tension, and chemistry that made this enemies-to-lovers romance so fun to read Our favorite moments, character growth, and all the emotions this book brought outIf you love sweet, heartfelt romances with humor, depth, and plenty of banter, this episode is for you!Grab your copy of Beg, Borrow, or Steal, listen in, and then head over to Instagram to tell us your thoughts! Don't forget to subscribe to Found Family Book Hive so you never miss a bookish deep dive.Also, if you want to be a part of the discussion, be sure to head over to our Fable book club as we dive into our March book!

In today's class, I'm talking about how to spot opportunities. First, I'll explain what opportunity really is: a set of circumstances that make it possible to do something. We all want new opportunities—whether it's for business, meeting the right people, or reaching our goals. The thing is, opportunities might already be right in front of you, but you might not notice them. I'll help you figure out how to spot these chances and take action! Show Notes: [03:12]#1 Look for it. [08:12]#2 Ask the right questions.  [16:04]#3 Beg, borrow and steal.  [23:04]Recap Next Steps: Text Dre Baldwin: Text Dre at 1.305.384.6894 (or go to http://www.DreAllDay.com/Text) Work On Your Game University: http://www.WorkOnYourGameUniversity.com  Sponsor: AG1 by Athletic Greens: http://drinkAG1.com/WORKONYOURGAME  Get Dre's Emails FREE:  Http://WorkOnMyGame.com  Free Audiobooks:  The Third Day: http://www.ThirdDayBook.com/audible The Mirror Of Motivation: http://www.MirrorOfMotivation.com/audible Get The Free Books: The Third Day: http://ThirdDayBook.com  The Mirror Of Motivation: http://MirrorOfMotivation.com The Overseas Basketball Blueprint: http://BallOverseas.com  Basketball: How To Play As Well As You Practice: http://HoopHandbook.com/Free  Donate:  CashApp: http://Cash.app/$DreBaldwin  PayPal: http://PayPal.me/DreAllDay  Be sure to Subscribe to have each new episode sent directly to you daily! If you're enjoying Work On Your Game, please Review the show and let us know!  Dre on social media: Instagram [http://instagram.com/DreBaldwin] Facebook [http://Facebook.com/WorkOnYourGameUniversity] Twitter / X [http://X.com/DreAllDay] YouTube [http://youtube.com/dreupt]  Facebook Business Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/6figuresandgrowing/  All Episodes + FULL Work On Your Game Podcast archive at:  http://WorkOnYourGamePodcast.com