Podcasts about bomo

V Carigradu potekajo neposredna pogajanja med Rusijo in Ukrajino po treh letih vojne. Ruskega predsednika Vladimirja Putina ni v Turčijo. Je Rusija sploh pripravljena končati vojno? Ameriški predsednik Donald Trump je zagrozil, da bo končal svoje posredovanje, če ne bo pripravljenosti za pogovore. Hkrati pa se zdi, da je pozornost Združenih držav vse bolj usmerjena v druga krizna žarišča. Smo priča nastajanju novega svetovnega reda? Bomo to izvedeli šele po srečanju Trumpa in Putina? O vsem tem v tokratnem Studiu ob 17-ih. Gostje: dr. Klemen Grošelj, obramboslovec; dr. Faris Kočan, strokovnjak za mednarodne odnose, FDV Univerze v Ljubljani; Vlasta Jeseničnik, dopisnica RTV Slovenija iz Ruske federacije; Karmen Švegelj, dopisnica RTV Slovenija iz Bližnjega vzhoda.

Predlog pokojninske reforme je pripravljen za obravnavo v državnem zboru. Ekonomsko-socialni svet je namreč na današnji izredni seji potrdil omenjeni predlog, ki ga je njegova pogajalska skupina usklajevala od septembra lani. Ta med drugim prinaša zvišanje upokojitvene starosti za dve leti, in sicer od leta 2035 naprej, ter postopno zviševanje odmernega odstotka za izračun pokojninske osnove za 40 let pokojninske dobe na 70 odstotkov. V oddaji tudi: - Minister Han: rešitve glede omejitve kratkotrajnega najema bomo iskali do začetka junija. - Kakšna so pričakovanja pogajalcev za mir v Ukrajini? - Kitajsko zunanje ministrstvo zavrnilo ugibanja o zamrznitvi uvoznih carin na ameriške izdelke.

Hojo imamo skoraj vsi radi, tek pa malo manj. Nekaterim se zdi celo nesmiseln. Zakaj je tako? Kako spremeniti odnos do teka? Kje poiskati motivacijo? Ali je tek boljši od hoje? Gost je profesor športne vzgoje in tekaški trener Urban Praprotnik.

Dvestopetnajsta epizoda podkasta O.B.O.D. je posebna epizoda, posvečena drugemu delu druge sezone serije The Last Of Us oziroma Zadnji med nami, po obodovsko Poslednji od nas, ki jo lahko spremljate z nami na Maxu. Agenti Mito, Igor in Aljoša so se danes zjutraj dobili na spletu in jo na kratko predebatirali. Igor pohvali osrednjo bitko, […]

V turistični oddaji se bomo ustavili na bližnjih letališčih. Preverili bomo, ali se v poletni sezoni obetajo nove povezave, in kam bomo iz Zagreba, Ljubljane in Gradca potovali letos. Ugotavljali bomo tudi, ali so klasični zemljevidi sploh še aktualni ali pa so jih že v celoti zamenjale različne aplikacije. V potopisnem delu začenjamo novo zgodbo, pot nas bo vodila v Kambodžo.

Apostolski nuncij v Sloveniji Jean Marie Speich z junijem odhaja na Nizozemsko.Celjski škof Maksimiljan Matjaž na radijskem misijonu o Sv. Duhu in „težkih“ vprašanjih.Nadškof Zore pri sinočnji sveti maši: Bomo odpuščali, kot je to storil nadškof Alojzij Uran?Na Sladki Gori 4. vseslovensko srečanje mož in očetov.Utrip družbe: Večina Slovencev meni, da se razmere slabšajo; SDS vodi v podpori volivcev.Hoivik o referendumu: Glas proti zakonu bo tudi glas za obrambo vrednot Slovenije in kulture.Vreme: Jutri se bo pooblačilo.Vlada sprejela predlog zakona za krepitev kibernetske varnosti.Rusija napadla Ukrajino z več deset droni.Nocoj v Ribnici znova Ribniški pasijon, v Mariboru pa Bachov pasijon po Janezu.

Socialni partnerji so podpisali dogovor o predlogu pokojninske novele, ki ga je pripravila pogajalska skupina Ekonomsko-socialnega sveta. Zvišanje starosti ob upokojitvi, daljše referenčno obdobje, višji odmerni odstotek in zimski dodatek so ključne novosti nove pokojninske zakonodaje. Prispevne stopnje ostajajo nespremenjene, prav tako ostaja pogoj 40 let pokojninske dobe. Pod katerimi pogoji se bomo upokojevali po novem? Kakšne bodo naše pokojnine? So ključni cilji reforme – stabilna in vzdržna pokojninska blagajna in dostojne pokojnine – torej doseženi? O vsem tem v tokratni oddaji Studio ob 17.00. Gostje: Luka Mesec, minister za delo, družino, socialne zadeve in enake možnosti; Marjan Trobiš, predsednik Združenja delodajalcev Slovenije; Lidija Jerkič, predsednica Zveze svobodnih sindikatov Slovenije; dr. Marko Jaklič, Ekonomska fakulteta Univerze v Ljubljani.

Danes je prvi delovni dan po premiku ure. Izgubljena ura spanja bo v prihodnjih dneh ali tednih pri marsikomu povzročila občutek utrujenosti, težave pri koncentraciji in razdražljivost. Čeprav premika ure ne doživljajo vsi enako, tudi raziskave kažejo, da ima negativen vpliv na zdravje in dobro počutje. Evropski parlament je ukinitev tega sistema predvidel že za leto 2021, vendar se članicam še vedno ni uspelo dogovoriti o tem vprašanju.

Življenjepis Anice Mikuš Kos, doktorice medicine in specialistke otroške psihiatrije ter humanitarke, je izjemen in govori o življenjski predanosti skrbi za otroke in družine. Poleg strokovnega dela, ki ga je med drugim opravljala kot dolgoletna vodja Svetovalnega centra za otroke, mladostnike in starše v Ljubljani, jo odlikuje njen osnovni čut za sočloveka, ki potrebuje pomoč. Poznani in cenjeni sta njena psihosocialna pomoč otrokom na najhujših kriznih območjih po raznih koncih sveta in tudi pripadnost prostovoljstvu. Ob njenem prihajajočem visokem jubileju in tudi zaznamovanju 80. obletnice konca druge svetovne vojne se v oddaji Razkošje v glavi spominja časov pred vojno, med njo in takoj po koncu vojne. Anica Mikuš Kos se je rodila 4. aprila leta 1935 v Ćupriji v Srbiji. Prepustimo se njenim spominom!

Slovenija izdatkov za obrambo ne bo povečevala na račun najranljivejših, je na današnjem posvetu o odpornosti dejal premier Robert Golob. Ob tem ko je Evropska komisija danes predstavila načrt vnovičnega oboroževanja držav članic, ameriški predsednik Donald Trump nadaljuje mirovna prizadevanja glede vojne v Ukrajini: - Trump po pogovoru z Zelenskim ostaja optimističen. - Izrael v Gazi začel novo kopensko ofenzivo. - Zdravniki v Tolminu pristali na prehod z sp-jev na podjemne pogodbe.

Evropski skladi za zmanjševanje razlik med evropskimi regijami so eden ključnih virov razvojnih sredstev za Slovenijo. Ob koncu leta se je država znašla na repu med članicami Unije po deležu porabljenih sredstev v zdajšnjem sedemletnem proračunskem obdobju. Vseh 3,2 milijarde evrov, namenjenih Sloveniji, mora porabiti do konca 2029. Da bi črpanje pospešila in preusmerila denar tja, kjer je najbolj smotrno, je vlada nedavno predlagala spremembo kohezijskega programa. Več denarja je namenila za strateške tehnologije in nekatere velike infrastrukturne projekte. Zadnje tedne pa – v Uniji in Sloveniji buri duhove predvsem predlog evropske komisije, da bi del kohezijskih sredstev prerazporedili na izdatke za obrambo. O teh in drugih izzivih v tokratni oddaji. Gostje: dr. Aleksander Jevšek, minister za kohezijo in regionalni razvoj; dr. Vladimir Prebilič, evropski poslanec, profesor na Fakulteti za družbene vede Univerze v Ljubljani; dr. Monika Kirbiš Rojs, nekdanja državna sekretarka za kohezijo; dr. Peter Wostner, raziskovalec na Uradu RS za makroekonomske analize in razvoj, asistent na Fakulteti za družbene vede Univerze v Ljubljani. »Vsebina je nastala s finančno pomočjo Evropske unije. Za vsebine projekta Talenti EU regij je odgovorno uredništvo in ne odraža nujno stališč Evropske Unije.«

Zamisli o precejšnjem povečanju vlaganj v obrambo so zaradi spremenjenih geopolitičnih razmerij po zmagi Donalda Trumpa na ameriških predsedniških volitvah vse glasnejše. Slovenija pa še vedno nima jasnega odgovora, kako naprej. Predsednik vlade Robert Golob je napovedal povečanje sredstev za obrambo na dva odstotka bruto domačega proizvoda še pred letom 2030; koalicija pa je za zdaj zadržana do teh pobud oziroma jim v Levici odločno nasprotujejo, negativno se do tega večinsko opredeljuje tudi javno mnenje, v opoziciji pa opozarjajo na nujnost takojšnjega povečanja obrambnih izdatkov. Bomo sledili priporočilom, tudi v luči morebitne trgovinske vojne, in ali ob povečanju obrambnih sredstev sploh vemo, kaj bi kupovali? Več o tem v Studiu ob 17.00. Gostje: Boštjan Pavlin, državni sekretar na Ministrstvu za obrambo Republike Slovenije; Uroš Paternus, namestnik načelnika generalštaba Slovenske vojske; Boštjan Skalar, direktor Grozda obrambne industrije; dr. Klemen Grošelj, obramboslovni strokovnjak.

V Srbiji se več kot 4 mesece po tragediji, ko je v zrušenju nadstreška obnovljene železniške postaje v Novem Sadu umrlo 15 ljudi, nadaljujejo protesti in blokade fakultet. Srbski predsednik ves čas govori, da spremljamo poskus barvne revolucije in nasilnega prevzema oblasti. So razmere prišle do te točke, da je vse skupaj postalo že nevarno? Medtem pomembna zgodba v Srbiji niso le študenti v blokadi, ampak tudi drugi, ki so si nadeli ime “Študenti, ki se želijo učiti”. Kaj zahtevajo in kako odmevna je njihova akcija? Druga fronta za predsednika Vučića je te dni Bosna in Hercegovina, natančneje entiteta Republika Srbska.

Premirje v Gazi je zares krhko in bi lahko prenehalo veljati, če se sprti strani ne bosta uspeli dogovoriti o njegovi drugi fazi. Mirovna pogajanja potekajo v Kairu, medtem pa se konflikt seli tudi na Zahodni breg. Kakšne so tam razmere in kako kaže ohranjanju tega krhkega premirja?

Škof Saje pri maši za spravo v Semiču: Čas je, da presežemo različne poglede in žrtvam omogočimo dostojen pokop.Papeževo zdravstveno stanje se rahlo izboljšuje; verniki po vsem svetu še vedno molijo zanj.Skoraj tri leta že traja vojna v Ukrajini. Ob tem ne moremo mimo vprašanja, kako blizu je epilog.Bomo pri nakupu patrij priča novim korupcijskim poslom?Poslanka SDS Anja Bah Žibert evropske poslance pozvala k zaščiti pitne vode v Ljubljani.Vreme: Jutri se bo pooblačilo in malenkost otoplilo.Peticija ODKLOPI SE in poziv za zakonsko omejitev uporabe zasebnih telefonov in drugih digitalnih naprav v vzgojno-izobraževalnih ustanovah.Dan turističnih vodnikov, ki letos v ospredje postavljajo njihovo vlogo pri ohranjanju miru in zaščiti okolja.Šport: Nogometaši Celja v osmini finala konferenčne lige, Olimpiji ni uspelo.

Trumpove najnovejše izjave o Ukrajini so sprožile precej negodovanja v Evropi, nekateri pa si jih razlagajo tudi kot način spodbujanja Evrope k okrepitvi svoje obrambe. Da mora Evropa to storiti, je bilo slišati že prej, iz besed generalnega sekretarja Nata Marka Rutteja pa je mogoče sklepati, da je to nujno prav za zagotovitev miru v Ukrajini. Kot je dejal, mora Evropa brez dvoma odigrati ključno vlogo pri zagotavljanju miru v Ukrajini in še naprej pomagati Kijevu ter mu omogočiti čim boljše pogajalsko izhodišče. Drugi poudarki: - Ocena tveganja za teroristični napad v Sloveniji ostaja nespremenjena, meni Svet za nacionalno varnost. - Ni še jasno, koliko bo stal nakup oklepnikov patria. Bomo res prihranili 400 milijonov evrov? - Lena Repinc in Jakov Fak šesta na tekmi mešanih dvojic svetovnega biatlonskega prvenstva.

Slovenci smo, če lahko sodim po nostalgiji, ki v nas nenehno obuja spomine na nekdanjo Jugoslavijo, zelo čustven narod. Po anketi, ki jo je leta 2021 izvedla agencija Episcenter, bi se 92 odstotkov Slovencev danes ponovno odločilo za samostojno in neodvisno Slovenijo, kar pomeni, da je jugonostalgikov manj kot deset odstotkov; največ jih je med volivci stranke Levica. So pa izjemno glasni, bolj, kot bi bilo zaželeno za stanje zdrave pameti v državi.Četudi je jugoslovanska oblast mnoge tepla, se je na to pozabilo. Celo letošnja Prešernova nagrajenka Nika Autor se z nekim romantičnim zadovoljstvom spominja obdobja, za katerega drugi menimo, da se ne sme nikoli več vrniti. Z mantro, da smo takrat živeli neprimerljivo bolj kakovostno in varno, je – žalibog – usekala mimo.Pogosto se sprašujem, zakaj s takšno lahkoto zanikamo spomine na revščino, politične pritiske, na pomanjkanje svobode govora in represijo, ki so bili del vsakdanjika mnogih državljanov. Zakaj molčimo o dolgih kolonah vozil na Fernetičih in Ljubelju, ko smo hodili na drugo stran meje po nakupih? V nostalgiji ni prostora niti za zgodbe, ki izpod peresa Igorja Omerze odkrivajo mračnjaško, zelo nasilno podobo povojne Jugoslavije. V tistih idealiziranih časih so miši in podgane predstavljale veliko nevarnost za zdravje. Gospa, ki se je upokojila okoli leta 1995, je pripovedovala, da so moko iz žakljev, v katere so se naselile miši in tam pustile drekce, presejali in jo – brez slabe vesti – prodajali. Po različnih menzah o kakšni čistoči, ki jo imamo danes, ni bilo govora … Je pa res, da smo v nekdanji Jugi jedli veliko zelja in repe. Tako se je vsaj enkrat tedensko prečistilo črevesje, kar je jako zdravilno tudi po sodobnih normah odnosa do zdravja. So pa že takrat obstajali »izbranci«, ki so se mastili tudi s kaviarjem.Natančnih podatkov o številu zobozdravnikov na prebivalca v Sloveniji med letoma 1950 in 1970 ni na voljo. Kako je bilo na podeželju, si lahko predstavljamo skozi »žirovski primer«: dr. Karel Bernik ni bil le splošni zdravnik, ampak tudi kot ginekolog, pediater, zobozdravnik in lekarnar. Boleč zob so si ljudje praviloma zdravili sami. Vzeli so krajši konec vrvice, jo na enem koncu podržali nad svečo, da je zagorelo, potem pa so vdihovali dim, ki je za krajši čas omilil bolečino. Kadar je bilo pri hiši zadosti »šnopca«, so si ga polivali po bolečem mestu. Kruh je bil v vsakem primeru svetinja! Številne povojne generacije smo odrasle ob »turšni župi«. Zalivali smo jo z mlekom, včasih tudi s kislim mlekom. Kakor hitro so dozorela zgodnja jabolka, se je kuhala »jabkava župa«. Zgostili smo jo z moko, oplemenitili pa s posneto smetano. Z velikim veseljem smo se lotili »mješte«, ki je bila kuhana iz krompirja, kaše in moke. Poslastico, drobnjakove ali orehove štruklje, je mama zelo na tanko razrezala, preden jim je dodala ocvrto smetano z malo sladkorja. Zanimivo je, da je v Jugoslaviji italijanski riž veljal za boljšo jed. Za glavno jed smo največkrat imeli »krompir na župi«. Meso je bilo komaj kdaj na mizi. Mesar ga je največkrat hranil za svoje »boljše stranke«. Prijateljica, ki je vrsto let delala na področju zdrave prehrane, pravi, da tisti, ki trdijo, da je bila hrana pred 30 in več leti bolj zdrava, nimajo prav. V kmetijstvu so uporabljali pesticide in herbicide, ki so danes prepovedani zaradi škodljivih vplivov na zdravje in okolje. V industrijsko pridelani hrani so pred desetletji uporabljali konzervanse, barvila in ojačevalce okusa, ki so danes regulirani ali prepovedani, npr. natrijev benzoat, ki ima danes omejeno uporabo, saj lahko povzroča alergijske reakcije. Hormoni v mesu, denimo sintetični estrogeni, so danes v EU prepovedani, nekoč pa so jih uporabljali za hitrejšo rast živine.Hrana je bila pogosto onesnažena s težkimi kovinami, kot so svinec, kadmij in živo srebro. Tudi ribe iz nekaterih rek so bile polne težkih kovin zaradi tovarniških izpustov.Če niste več rosno mladi, se lahko spomnite pljuvalnikov, ki so bili nameščeni po vseh prostorih v zdravstvenih domovih, tovarniških halah in tudi po pisarnah. Tudi zdravnik s cigareto v ustih je bil čisto običajen pojav. So si tisti, ki so imeli neposreden stik s predelavo hrane, redno umivali roke? Uši in stenice so bile prijazne, zelo udomačene domače živalce. V življenju nekoč ne bi iskala nostalgije in to velja za slehernega med nami. Prav tako za njim ne bi jokala, bi si pa zapisala zgodbe, ki jih pomnijo tisti, ki so takrat živeli. In to brez olepševanja! Dejstvo je, da današnji standardi medsebojnih odnosov, higiene, zdravstva, prehrane in hipotetično tudi svobode prinašajo večjo kakovost življenja, kot smo jo poznali nekoč. Namesto da si preteklost prikazujemo skozi rožnata očala, bi bilo bolj smiselno, da se iz nje nekaj naučimo in potem izkoristimo to znanje za gradnjo boljše prihodnosti. Kajti »dobri stari časi« so pogosto le spomin, oblikovan skozi prizmo časa, ne pa nujno odraz resničnosti.

Bomo nekega dne lahko rakave bolezni zdravili tako, da bomo tumorske celice prepričali, da naj vendarle umrejo? Nove možnosti odpirajo spoznanja o tako imenovani obogateni celični smrti. S pravimi učinkovinami namreč lahko imunski sistem spodbudimo, da je kos tudi trdovratnim oblikam raka, je pokazala raziskava, ki so jo izvedli na Kemijskem inštitutu pod vodstvom dr. Ive Hafner Bratkovič. Članek so objavili v ugledni znanstveni reviji Nature Communications. Pri rakavih celicah namreč običajno imunski sistem odpove, saj jih preprosto ne prepozna kot nevarne. Z novo metodo pa se posebne beljakovine, imflamasome, ki so del našega prirojenega imunskega odziva in opozarjajo na nevarne viruse in bakterije, vnese v tumorske celice. Tam tumorsko celico nato uspešno uničijo, obenem pa sprostijo snovi, ki v tumor privabijo imunske celice, katerim tumor običajno uspešno preprečuje vstop. Zato tudi izraz obogatena celična smrt.

Tradicionalno se bodo pred začetkom zimskih počitnic odprla vrata srednjih šol in fakultet za vse, ki se bodo prihodnje leto vpisovali na nove izobraževalne ustanove. Na kaj biti pozoren na informativnih dnevih, kateri poklici so ta trenutek najbolj iskani in kako bo v prihodnosti,... Ob teh in vprašanjih poslušalcev smo iskali odgovore pri karierni svetovalki ter zakonski in družinski terapevtki Nadi Zupančič.

Juta Harako je Japonec, ki je pri 35 letih prvič obiskal Evropo. V oddaji razloži, nad čim je v avstrijski prestolnici, kjer je preživel mesec dni, najbolj začuden in česa pri Evropejcih ne razume. Deli pa tudi zgodbo o tem, kako je rešil življenje svoji mami in kako mu je to pomagalo najti življenjsko poslanstvo.

Kot izhaja iz vladnega dokumenta, ki smo ga pridobili neuradno, bo pravico do starostne pokojnine pridobil zavarovanec pri 62-ih letih in ob 40-ih letih pokojninske dobe, zavarovanec, ki je dopolnil najmanj 15 let zavarovalne dobe, bi bil do starostne upokojitve upravičen pri 67-ih letih. Drugi poudarki oddaje: - V mednarodni skupnosti ostri odzivi na Trumpove sankcije proti Mednarodnemu kazenskemu sodišču - Sviz od občin zahteva spoštovanje normativov v vrtcih; občine zavračajo postavljanje pravil iz Ljubljane - Ministrstvo odpravilo odločbo inšpektorata glede stavbe v Solkanu, v kateri bivajo uporabniki Doma na Krasu.

Vlada prekinila obravnavo novele o organizaciji in financiranju vzgoje in izobraževanja, sprejela jo bo prihodnji teden.Za več denarja bomo dobili manj, ocenjujejo v NSi, kjer zaradi načrtovanega nakupa oklepnikov patria zahtevajo sklic parlamentarne komisije za nadzor javnih financ.Bomo o dodatku k pokojninam za izjemne umetniške dosežke odločali na zakonodajnem referendumu?Z nekdanjim muftijem v Sloveniji, doktorjem Nedžadom Grabusom, o pomenu dialoga med verstvi.Vreme: Ponoči in jutri bo pretežno oblačno, nekaj jasnine bo v zahodni Sloveniji.

Vlada je tik pred novim letom potrdila predlog novega zakona o medijih. Besedilo prinaša nekaj pomembnih novosti, ki pa že razburjajo javnost. Gre za določbe, ki se nanašajo na vplivneže. Kritik so deležne tudi sheme državnih pomoči medijem in predlog, da bi koncentracijo medijskega lastništva po novem presojala Agencija za komunikacijska omrežja in storitve, ki s tem po mnenju kritikov pridobiva preveliko moč. O vsem tem z gosti v Studiu ob 17.00. Gostje: Asta Vrečko, ministrica za kulturo; Mojca Zorko, podpredsednica Društva novinarjev Slovenije; Cene Grčar, odvetnik; Denis Sabadin, odgovorni urednik Primorskih novic.

Verujem, da bodo resnični romarji upanja postali tudi pričevalci sprave.

V ponedeljek pa začnem zares! Takoj po novem letu bo pravi čas! Vam zveni znano? Marsikaj in marsikdaj si obljubimo in čakamo na tisti pravi dan za začetek. Novo leto se zdi primerna prelomnica. Vendar pa raziskave kažejo, da kar 80 odstotkov ljudi svoje novoletne zaobljube prekrši že do 1. februarja, uspešnih pri doseganju svojih ciljev pa je le osem odstotkov. Zakaj nam je težko vztrajati? Se da do cilja priti po lažji poti? O tem bomo govorili v zadnjem svetovalnem servisu v tem letu, svetovala pa nam bo univerzitetna diplomirana psihologinja Eva Kovač. Pokličite ali nam pišite.

Javnost je zadnje dni razburila novica, da je predsednik Kluba slovenskih podjetnikov Joc Pečečnik poslal predsednici republike Nataši Pirc Musar pismo, v katerem je predlagal, da naj država najde parcelo, podjetniki pa bodo predsednici in njenim zanamcem zgradili rezidenco. Politične stranke so šle v zrak – ker v tem predbožičnem času ni prav veliko drugih tem za iti v zrak – ter podjetnikom očitale, da naj presežke denarja raje nakažejo v humanitarne namene, rezidenco pa pustijo pri miru. Torej se spoprimimo z graditvijo protokolarnih objektov še v naši oddaji. Nimamo denarja, da bi ga prispevali za vse tiste opeke, imamo pa dobre, ali pa vsaj alternativne ideje. Poglejmo. Dejstvo je, da institucija predsednika republike potrebuje rezidenco. Sicer stavbi, oziroma pisarni na Štefanovi nič ne manjka; ima zgodovino, je lepa, celo prestižna, a težava je z lokacijo. Središče mesta pač za takšen protokolarni objekt ni primerno. Recimo, da hoče vojaški vrh ali pa kdo iz skrajne desnice oziroma skrajne levice izvesti državni udar. Kam bi parkirali tanke? Vsi poznamo ikonične prizore, ko so tanki parkirani pred predsedniškimi palačami po vsem svetu, predsedniki pa bežijo pri zadnjih vratih. V Sloveniji kaj takega ni mogoče, ker je središče mesta že tako ali tako zaparkirano, Prešernova, Gregorčičeva in Erjavčeva pa so ene najbolj prometnih ulic v mestnem središču sploh. Pa ne le državni udar … Če pride na obisk malo bolj pomembna delegacija, je rdeča preproga dolga komaj kakšnih deset metrov, zatem pa se visoki gostje že tiščijo proti pločniku, po katerem gospodinje nosijo tatarce iz Maximarketa. Hočemo povedati – za predsedniško palačo potrebuješ prostor. Potrebujemo novo lokacijo. Najbolje bi bilo kje na barju, saj bi predsedniška funkcija tako simbolno nadaljevala tradicijo koliščarjev, pa še Ig je blizu. A s tem naj se ubadajo predsedniški urbanisti, mi se dajmo posvetiti finančni konstrukciji podjetnih podjetnikov. Ker je v Ljubljani kvadratni meter novogradnje, pa čeprav je to blatna koliba, okoli 5–7 tisoč evrov, rajtamo, da se prestižne objekte, kot je rezidenca predsednika republike, gradi po 10 jurjev kvadratni meter. In ker predsednika ne moremo vtakniti v garsonjero, mora imeti tak objekt prek palca 500 kvadratnih metrov bivalne površine. Ker vedeti moramo, da rezidenca pomeni stavbo, v kateri je predsednik tako doma in tam tudi uraduje. Kar zdaj ni primer in za razliko od recimo Angležev ali Američanov pri predsednici Musarjevi prvi mož v predpasniku z jelenčki ne more gostom postreči čaja, medtem ko njegova žena rešuje svet; ali vsaj njegovo bližnjo okolico. Kakorkoli. Pečečnika in prijatelje bi graditev objekta s petsto kvadrati po deset tisoč evrov za kvadrat stala 5 milijonov, ob tem, da bi parcelo na Igu zagotovila država. Ker neuničljivi Joc razglaša, da je za akcijo našel petdeset podjetnikov, bi graditev po glavi prišla cca sto jurjev. Za navadnega smrtnika je to ogromno denarja, ampak če v spletnem in javno dostopnem katalogu preverimo premoženje samo enega izmed udeležencev gradbene iniciative, je ta lani po obdavčitvah prikazal 28 milijonov dobička; se pravi, da bi v Natašo investiral 0,4 odstotka od svojega letnega profita. To pa so odstotki, ki jih navadni smrtniki pri dohodnini namenjamo gasilcem, kulturnim društvom in dobrodelnim organizacijam. Skratka drobiž. Se pravi, da bi podjetniki lahko zgradili rezidenco, ne da bi mignili. In resnici na ljubo je razumnemu praktično vseeno, v kateri bajti se sončijo slovenski vladarji. Skrbi pa nas, ali pa vsaj zanimivo pa je nekaj drugega. Namreč lik in delo slovenskega podjetnika kot mešanice med "Supemanom" in "Superhikom" iz Alana Forda. Kajti gradnjo rezidence moramo povezati še z eno pobudo podjetniškega kluba, ki je šla mimo manj zapažena, je pa toliko bolj zgovorna. Podjetniki so spomladi, ko smo imeli veliko veselja z graditvijo JEK2, predlagali, da bi pri graditvi sodelovali z 10-odstotnim deležem. Za reaktor bi nominalno sicer namenili nekaj več denarja kot za Natašino dnevno sobo, ampak po nekakšnem finskem modelu predlagajo, da bi jim delno financiranje projekta nato omogočalo dostop do cenovno ugodnega in stabilnega vira energije. Če je graditev predsedniške palače burka, so jedrske težnje slovenskih podjetnikov mnogo bolj resna zadeva. Z vsaj takšno resnostjo, kot demokracija regulira ločitev različnih cerkva od države, bi se morala lotiti tudi ločitve zasebnih pobud bogatih posameznikov v sfere, ki so izključno v domeni države. Kam pripelje najprej vzpodbujanje in potem popuščanje plutokraciji, vidimo na globalnem odru in v najmočnejših državah sveta vsak dan … Na srečo do zdaj kot miš obubožani Slovenci z nekaj posameznimi tajkuni, ki so bolj skrbeli za lastne užitke kot za javni prostor, nismo imeli težav. A organizacija, kot je klub slovenskih podjetnikov, ki bahaško maha s kupi evrov, je lahko zametek ne samo lobistične, temveč tudi plutokratske elite. Čeprav je podjetniška pobuda o graditvi predsedniške rezidence burkaška, se ji z Elonom Muskom opozorjeni ne bi smeli smejati.

Za ekskluzivne epizode Elle podkasta, se urednica Petra Windschnurer pogovarja z nagrajenci Elle Style Awards 2024. Prva v nizu je pronicljiva, iskriva in karizmatična Vesna Milek. Vesna Milek je inteligentna in čustveno inteligentna ženska, ki zna ti svoji lastnosti dobro unovčiti, ko razmišljujoče beseduje in ubeseduje sama, bodisi ko je k temu treba navdihniti ali spodbuditi druge. To ji uspeva ne le v pogovorih, temveč tudi s pisano besedo, na primer v številnih člankih in intervjujih za časopisno hišo Delo, pa tudi v bolj leposlovnih stvaritvah, kot so njena romana Kalipso in Če, dnevniški zapisi Ogledala, biografski roman o Borisu Cavazzi, knjiga Pariz: ljubezni iz drugih časov, v katerem raziskuje življenja umetnikov in njihovih muz v mestu, ki je bilo magnet za umetnike z vsega sveta, ter njen čisto svež zgodovinski postmoderni roman Kleopatra: Naj se zgodi, v katerem s hipnotičnim jezikom vstopa v osebnost ene najpomembnejših žensk v zgodovini človeštva. In če se vrnemo k navdihovanju in spodbujanju drugih, Vesna je bila tudi mentorica Tomaža Miheliča pri pisanju njegovega biografskega romana Novo rojstvo, ki govori o življenju in preobrazbi slovenske transdive Salome. Nekaj je v Vesni, da učinkuje in vpliva na druge, na vse nas, in to počne tako subtilno, da je skoraj nezaznavno, pa obenem tako silno. Gostja: Vesna Milek https://www.instagram.com/vesna.milek/ Voditeljica: Petra Windschnurer https://www.instagram.com/windschnurer/ Več podobnih vsebin najdete na: https://elle.metropolitan.si/

Na 35. filmskem festivalu Liffe je glavno nagrado vodomec že drugo leto zapored osvojil madžarski režiser. Tokrat je to Bálint Szimler, režiser filma Črna pika, ki je bil premierno prikazan poleti na festivalu v Locarnu. Črna pika je režiserjev celovečerni prvenec, v njem pa pod drobnogled vzame madžarski izobraževalni sistem in prek njega komentira stanje madžarske družbo širše. Žirija je v svoji utemeljitvi nagrade vodomec zapisala, da gre za "briljantno delo z otroškimi igralci (in celotno zasedbo),prefinjeno in suvereno režijo ter predvsem bogastvo smisla". Z režiserjem se je za oddajo Razgledi in razmisleki pogovarjala Petra Meterc.

Women making bad decisions. Cáel to the rescue? What? In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “There is nothing wrong being a Lucky Bastard. It is wrong to rely on it.” They were all psychopaths and murderers after all, so death was becoming a vocational hazard. Me refraining from having as many sexual liaisons as possible wasn't realistic. I wasn't going to be willingly castrated and that was the only way out. The one benefit I could see was me working in a target-rich environment. "Now that I have had my turn stymieing Cáel's chaotic yet well-meaning attempts to educate us in the dangers and rewards of free-ranging masculinity," Tessa regarded the assembly, "I am getting out with my victory intact. Good luck, Sisters. You'll need it." Tessa exited, order was restored and; oh yeah, Elsa had brought me here for a sadistic love-fest, sans the sex. "I don't know what to make of you," Elsa smiled warmly, "I don't understand you and I find you to be very interesting." Let me make this clear; all three of those statements can be very bad, or very good. 'I don't know what to make of you' means I want to make it with you. 'I don't understand you' is 30% bad and 70% good. When bad, it is a prelude to a break-up. What she means is 'you aren't trying to understand me', thus the end of the relationship. On the beneficial side it means 'I've totally bought into your seduction and I'm ready to screw'. Ah, 'interesting'. Two types of women find a man 'interesting'; women who have to have you, and stalkers. Somewhat redundant. The main difference is how they respond to the Restraining Order and how much fun the erotic side of the relationship will be. The first kind of woman has a public screaming fit if you take out a RO on her. Let them build up to an incinerating level, then fuck them; it's so worth it. Stalkers ignore ROs. That's okay. Now you can legally trap them. They'll do whatever you want. Not because they are afraid of you. It is an RO for God's sake; one night in jail, maybe. No, they'll do whatever sex act you request because that's why they are stalking you in the first place; the sensual/emotional connection. When she starts making bizarre requests of you, subtly direct her to another 'more interesting' guy. Try not to use a friend. That's kind of cold. For the next few weeks, make sure the latest victim doesn't end up as a Missing Person. After that, you've done your civic duty so you can move on guilt-free. "Elsa, I need ten minutes to stretch first," I requested. She nodded. Off came the shirt. I retreated to a gymnastics mat and began stretching out my kinks. Five minutes in, I did one of my favorite maneuvers; the backwards human bridge completed when your wrists touch the Achilles tendons. Not only does this extended your abdominal muscles, it exhibits your hard-on and suggest all kinds of pages from the Kama Sutra are, in fact, possible. My performance highlighted my musculature, flexibility and numerous scars. My left thigh still had a light bandage wrapped around it. Whatever the Amazon medics were using was working gangbusters on me. Elsa had retreated to her end of the mat so I glided to my axes then promptly got off the mat. I didn't trust any Amazon, not even Aya and I'd let my heart be cut out if it would save her life. I got the feel for these axes, spun them around a few times then made to get back on the mat. "Put the loops around your wrist," Elsa directed. "Why?" I retorted. We were back to 'why are we letting a male question our orders.' "You are not allowed to throw them," Elsa allowed. I nodded. I didn't loop them. No, I walked onto the mat, weapons held axe-head down. I walked in five steps, knelt and placed the axes on the mat by my side. "Cáel, defend yourself," Elsa stated firmly. "Which is it? Do I defend myself and I act in a manner allowed by axe-work, or do I accede to your demands and be automatically defeated?" I responded. "Do you believe my spear technique is that superior to your own, made-up style?" Elsa smirked. "I think you are cheating. Worse, I think you are being a bully. If you want this to be the 'Elsa is a Bad-Ass' show, congratulations, you've won. I'm not going to fight you. I kneel before you, weapons on the mat, acknowledging that your cheating ways have defeated me," I mocked. "Savor this magnificent victory." "Your opinion of my martial prowess is not what is at question here today," Elsa spoke. I stood up, turned away and walked off the map, interrupting the rest of her speech. She was coming for me this time. I opened my towel, took out my phone and began texting away. "What are you doing?" Ngozi rumbled. *Buffy; job complete. Need to shower before next mission in queue* I hadn't hit 'send' yet. "Please correct me if I'm wrong. This was supposed to be a weapon's exhibition. That implies a study of your opponents training and capabilities. Elsa's prowess, along with my own, are the question here to today," I insisted. "Otherwise it is a waste of time for every non-sadist here." "Is it absolutely crucial that you throw an axe at Elsa?" Traska questioned. "No. It is absolutely crucial that Elsa fight under the handicap that I might throw an axe," I instructed her. "It changes the range dynamic. If I can hit her from; oh, five meters out, she has to keep close. If she has to keep close, my axes can engage her hand-to-hand." "Since Elsa chose a long spear, throwing it is clumsy, thus reducing her options," I stated. "Any range over six meters and she can probably dodge, or deflect, my throw. So we are both range limited, as it should be for a good exhibition." "I bow you reasoning," Elsa gave me a respectful nod of the head. Fucker; she liked me more, not less, despite my verbal reticence. We went to our corners. I charged first. Oh God; Elsa was super-great at spear. Less anyone forget, the spear has not only a sharp point; it also has a 20 cm bladed surface on each side plus a sold, oak shaft for blocking, poking and smacking. Elsa swung the spear around her body in lightning quick arcs. She could fight long shaft, or short shaft, as the range dictated. Long shaft was like fighting a dagger on a stick; cut and thrust. Short shaft was mainly thrusting, but was good for holding me back if I got inside her 'long' guard. Elsa's advantages were life-long experience, tons of natural talent, and being quicker than me. Our staminas were evenly matched. The drain of Elsa's fluid style equaled my two-weapon use. I had her in bulk and brawn. Elsa and I were at the top of the spectrum for our respective genders; physically and mentally better off than the majority. This meant I had her on brute strength and reach. That was genetics talking. My only other advantage was the uniqueness of my style. Elsa hadn't faced it before, though I'm sure she'd watched Constanza and Crewe's fight with me on video. Elsa figured out quickly that a left-handed battle axe made a poor shield. It covered far less area and took more energy and concentration for the assaulted to defend themselves. As soon as she put that bit of knowledge into her arsenal of tricks, I showed her another one. An axe is an axe, and when she slapped that spear against my guard one too many times, my right-handed axe chopped into the shaft, severing the spear blade from the rest of the spear. This was the point where an Amazon would have pressed the attack. I was deciding to take as little of a beating as possible. I fell back, knelt and put my axes down. There was a hush. "Elsa, do you wish to retrieve another spear?" I inquired. This was an exhibition after all. Actually, this was Elsa proving she was better than me, but she a script to stick to. "To your starting place," Elsa commanded. "Get some water." I picked up my axes and withdrew; backwards. Oneida had crept around to my side. "I know what you did this morning," Oneida gave me some water to drink. "It was very clever of you to send me away for my safety. It makes me adore you even more." I reached out with one finger and poked her nose. "You're silly," I sighed. "No," she giggled like a school girl. I was going to Hell for this one. "You are an 'Ash Man' reborn. I read about it." I had no clue that was and Elsa was waiting. The rest was pre-ordained. I got a few light cuts while not leaving a mark on Elsa. I scored major points by disposing of Elsa's second spear though I lost both axes in the endeavor. She swept my feet out from under me, I rolled away from her follow up kick and quickly went to my knees, palms flat on the mat and head lowered. Only the mentally handicapped would have thought I'd won any part of the martial contest. I'd drawn the first time. My ability to defeat Elsa with the equivalent of a staff was undecided. I had been disarmed and disarmed Elsa the second time; technically a draw, but it wasn't. Why? Because Elsa had been trying NOT to kill me, or even injury me (too much). I had been doing the same. If by some calamity I'd killed Elsa, I would have been lucky to fall on my own axes before the crowd butchered me. No, mine had been an amateur effort. I had missed Elsa mostly because I never got close. Elsa had to hold back from slicing me up and running me through. Elsa walked right up to me; I mean Right up to me. She tapped my head, indicating I should look up. There was her cunt maybe 2 inches away with only her skintight shorts between us. "As this demonstrates, we need to continue to work and update our styles," Elsa addressed the throngs. "Cáel put forth his usual exceptional effort; for the gifted amateur that he is." "Thank you for your attention today, my sisters," Elsa concluded. End of lesson. Traska picked up her medical kit and came my way. Oneida and a half dozen other Amazons closed in as well. Elsa didn't move a millimeter. Her fragrance wafted in my face. When Traska tried to shift me around so she could better access my wounds, Elsa stopped me with her hand on my head. Traska found it odd for a second then they all clued in. Elsa was making a statement. This wasn't Amazonian mannerisms coming to the fore. This was throwing down a gauntlet; Elsa's intention to win this competition; me. Amazons were inherently competitive, being tested and testing themselves against previous achievements and each other. Before Buffy opened her big mouth an hour ago, any contest for me had been a joke; the whole 'hunt me down in X-number of days'. Buffy had beaten Elsa to me. You don't get to be a 3000 year old secret society by letting one setback force you to admit defeat. No; Elsa was stepping up her game. The amazing transformation that had confused the women around us was that, according to Elsa, my opinion suddenly mattered. Buffy had made a point of me finding a way to be with her. My choice. Better yet, I'd made my choice to be with her while my life was on the line. Once again, 'I laugh at death' is an incredible turn on. Elsa hadn't changed her stance about men being armed. She was letting me train so she could summon me whenever she wanted me; unless Katrina put her foot down. Katrina wasn't going to do that often. Elsa was a useful subordinate and Katrina finally had her test dummy; me; on the firing range, which she had wanted all along. Katrina is scary-smart. You don't think so? Who kept throwing me and Buffy together knowing of the Buffy/Elsa rivalry? Who approved my sex weekend with Buffy? Who approved my firearms training once she had Elsa's endorsement? As you might recall, that was something Elsa swore she'd never do, yet here we were; a male being trained with firearms at Havenstone. Katrina didn't know when I'd figure out a way to sleep with Buffy, but she had faith in me that once I got to know Buffy, I'd figure something out. I'm far easier to read than the US Tax Code, or the Affordable Care Act. I liked sex with women, I liked being seen as a good guy, I liked trying to be a good guy; roughly in that order. Katrina knew that. I didn't particularly mind being used by her either. That was her job; to protect the security and integrity of Havenstone. Now Buffy was happy, Elsa was letting me train and by dint of my outrageous behavior, I was assisting Katrina in her plot to restore stability to the traditional Amazon bloodlines. Traska slathered this synthetic goo over my lacerations. It stung, but it aided in the healing process and was flexible enough to barely restrict movement. I winced and 'stumbled' forward face-first into Elsa's crotch. My nose ridge pressed deep into her camel toe, certainly pushing down on her clit. "I apologize," I said softly. I didn't move. Elsa didn't see fit to move me, even with her hand still in the hair on the top of my head. "Finished," Traska sighed. "Let me help you up," Oneida jumped to my aid. She helped me stand, but Elsa didn't seem to mind. Getting out of the gym alive was easy. My heartfelt pledge to myself to never return was futile. Sweaty chicks hang out at gyms. As a kid, I played D and D. If I was a Ranger, gyms would be my favored terrain. Okay, maybe bars then gyms. Fine, rock concerts, bars then gyms. I almost made it to the locker room. Coming from the other direction; the non-blooded gym; was Felix. "Hey Felix," I greeted him. Here I was with several fresh wounds and ten steamy ladies who all appeared to have a definite interest in my physique, if not my well-being. Felix was alone. That would not do, not for a man like Felix. "What happened to you?" he asked. "Figure-skating accident," I lied. "It seems I'm clumsy on ice." He didn't buy if for a second. "Oh; maybe Brooke can help patch you up tonight," he grinned. Asshole. The only flaw in his game plan was that the chicks around me didn't give a rat's ass about outsider women. They certainly weren't going to be jealous of them. "Good idea," I nodded. "Where are my manners? This is Oneida, Elsa, Traska and; well, I can't say I've been able to catch everyone's names yet." The unknown women didn't bother introducing themselves. Why? Felix was only a male. They had no immediate need of him, so they didn't bother being civil. Felix was an Alpha's Alpha. He didn't give up that easily. We made it to the showers. Buffy, having not worked out, waited by my locker. Mystically, Elsa appeared in the showers at the exact same time as me. Felix was right behind her. "Felix Melena," he offered his hand to Elsa. She shook it then went back to showering. "I'm better than Cáel." Elsa gave him a quick sneer. "What gives you that idea?" she murmured. "Why don't you let me prove it," he turned to face her, giving Elsa the complete Felix Melena aesthetic. He was a centimeter, or two taller, I was maybe three kilograms heavier and we both lavished attention on our bodies. He was perhaps a bit longer, but narrower down there. As long as it wasn't aimed at my mouth, or ass, I didn't care. By the lack of reaction in Elsa's body tempo, she didn't care either. "If you were a team bodyguard and an assassin appeared to be trying to kill myself and Hayden, who would you protect with your life?" Elsa posed. "I'd kill the assassin," Felix came back immediately. Felix was a winner. "Cáel?" Elsa said. "Hayden," I responded. "I'm a bodyguard. From the top down; protect, secure, return fire." "Cáel, you are trained as a bodyguard?" Felix smirked. "Nah. That was the common sense answer to the question she asked," I shrugged. Shampoo time. Felix was going to make me pay for that comeback. "Felix, would you ever work at Havenstone; off the clock?" Elsa continued. "Yeah," he grinned. I know what he wanted to work on; off the clock. Good luck, you bastard. "Cáel?" "I'm never off the clock, damn it," I snorted. "This job is a 24/7 crimp in my sex life." "Bro," Felix coughed. "Be careful. That's close to sexual harassment." Btw, Felix was serious. He was actually cautioning me. See, me being deported meant he couldn't crush me. "Elsa, would you please shoot me in the head?" I replied. "No," she smiled warmly at me. "I love you too," I said, dripping with sarcasm. Felix's eyes bugged out for a second. "That, Felix Melena, is why Cáel is a better man than you," Elsa looked like an angel sitting in judgment of Felix, finding him flawed and substandard. "Cáel joking around makes him better than me?" Felix mocked. The mistake here had to be Elsa's. "Your lack of understanding is not my problem," Elsa dismissed him. "Cáel, wash my back." "Fine, I'll do it, but I'm massaging your ass too," I groused. "Get it over with," she sighed with exasperation. "Damn. Felix; day in, day out. Always washing naked women. This job is killing me," I muttered. Felix wasn't one to give up easily. By the time I had totally soaped up her back, ass and upper thighs; back and front, he had exited the field. He caught me exiting the locker room. "Cáel, why don't we go out for some drinks after work?" he offered. Ah, he was going to beat me up with Brooke. "Sure," I agreed. I'm a dog. Felix was going to sleep with Brooke to show me he was the superior male. He was going to rub it in my face. I hadn't told anyone about knocking boots with Brooke. It wasn't their business. Felix would crow it to the Heavens, because pissing me off was what mattered, not how Brooke felt. I couldn't even save Brooke because Felix was in her socio-economic group and she'd make the same mistake with him she'd made with Trent; thinking they cared about her.  (Monday later) Buffy had finally dismissed me when Katrina summoned me to her office. Ignoring me getting into an altercation; in the Full-Blood gym; yet again, I had a good day. No property damage, lost items, or physically damaged employees. Ragged by most people's standards, but a good day for me at Havenstone. I still had a chance to walk out under my own power. Katrina motioned me to come to her desk. Upon my arrival, she slid a tablet over to me with a single icon on the screen. I tapped it. Aya's face appeared as the vid-mail began. She was glowing. There was tent fabric in the background so I had no idea of her geographic location. I didn't care. "Hey!" she squeaked. "I'm doing great at camp. I met three girls who are as small as me and we've formed our own squad; the Fatal Squirts." I chuckled. I had encouraged her to steal strength from her perceived weaknesses. She had to believe in herself then take that as she built up her skills. I had faith in her when no one else did. "I showed some of my councilors a picture of you. I think you would get into trouble if you came here. I want you to come, but I thought it was only fair to warn my favorite bed-buddy," she giggled. "Send me a message when you can. I understand there will be a delay as the messages have to be physically delivered. I know you are doing okay. If not, hold off your vengeance until I can return and guard your back. I love you, Cáel. Be well," she smiled as her picture faded into darkness. "Ah damn," I whispered. Aya looked good; confident, upbeat and spirited. "Katrina, can I make a message for her right now?" I begged. "Of course," she gave me an approving tilt of the head. "I think the courier is still in the building." "Cool. What do I do?" I urged. "Use the webcam; make a message and forward it to my computer," Katrina told me. "I'll take it from there." I made the message, pretty much updating her on my latest exploits with limited editing. Aya was a surprisingly innocent yet worldly 9 year old. Much of that came from being Katrina's and Desiree's niece; mainly Katrina's. It gave her access to tidbits of sensitive data from time to time. Not so much she was a real security threat. Enough so that she got some things confused; like what sex was truly about. I felt in my soul she'd be a great Amazon one day. I didn't remind her of that much. She had enough pressure for a kid her age. "You are seeing Oneida now?" a frosty voice unnerved me. It was Buffy. "Fuck," I jumped up. "Damn Buffy, stop sneaking up on me like that, or I'm going to start thinking you are a stalker." "I am stalking you, Einstein," Buffy menaced. "I'm glad we got that out of the way," I rolled my eyes. "Oh look! It's Daphne coming to my rescue. I am so out of here," I exulted. I edged passed Buffy, slipped her attempt to grab my arm and raced for the 'new hires' at the elevator. "Get back here, you Cock-sucker!" Buffy howled as she chased me down. May miracles never cease. Daphne, Violet and Tigger formed an Amazon (I wasn't sure if I could consider them 'human' yet) shield between my frail form and the hulking brute that was Buffy. "Calm down, Buffy," Daphne pleaded. "He fought Elsa today; again." "Get out of my way," Buffy snarled. "Thank God you stopped her," I huffed to Dora. "I hope to she never finds out that I soaped up Elsa's entire body while we were sharing a shower together." Daphne turned and gave me an incredulous look. "Cáel, you are a Dumb-ass," Daphne sighed. Looking to Buffy as she stood aside. "Have at." "Are you mental?" Fabiola chimed in. The elevator doors finally opened, Buffy shoved me in and the rest of the posse followed. Helena joined us at the last second. "He's taunting me," Buffy responded to Fabiola while using her middle finger to poke my chest. "At this rate I am going to have to devastate a dozen male escorts so I can make it the remaining the 69 more days until he's mine again." "Is he really that good?" Paula wondered. Buffy twisted around to confront her. "He hammered me so hard, I thought he'd dislocate my hips. Later, we spent an entire hour, naked, wrapped up in each other's bodies with no actual penetration; touching, tasting and whispered affections," Buffy curled her lip. "He's better than you could possibly imagine." "You realize we have 27 seconds left, right?" I reminded Buffy. "Really?" Buffy's head snapped back to me. I nodded and she jumped my bones. She had her hand down my pants, pulling on my rod, and the other grabbing the back of my head to deepen our kiss. For my part, I had my left hand on her breast and the right down the back of her pants, fondling a panty-covered ass cheek. In a culture where you summoned a male, ordered him to perform and he did so the same exact way he'd done a dozen times before, what Buffy and I were doing didn't make sense. The two of us didn't give up an ounce of control yet meshed perfectly. Our pleasure was obvious, vocal and we didn't give a damn about the crowd around us. Buffy and I had created our own little lust-bubble. The chimer went off. We settled down and straightened up our clothes. "Fuck it all; that's some good dicking," Buffy mumbled. That was an inside joke between me, Timothy, my big, gay, buff tattoo-artist roommate, and the few women he chose to share that descriptive with; 'a good dicking'. We tumbled out of the elevator. "Is he always like that?" Fabiola mumbled. "He's a whole lot better with his clothes off," Buffy sneered at Fabiola. Sometimes I'm a super-selfish bastard; I want life to cut me some slack. Waiting for us was Oneida; in biker clothing. That would have merely been bad, dangerous and creepy except I was dressed in work clothes. I was planning to meet some of the guys (all two of them) for some after-work drinks. The encounter went from not-good to horribly awkward. Oneida had checked up on me, been told how I got to and from work as well as when I left. Unfortunately, she hadn't checked my social calendar; mainly because I didn't keep one; sophomore year mistake. If a girl is in your apartment, she will find the thing you don't want her to find; every single time. I burned my diary and unfriended everybody after that final, hospital-resulting episode. "Hi," I greeted Oneida. She'd figured out she'd screwed up something fierce. "What bike do you use? I have a Specialized STSE hybrid. Maybe we can use some paths one weekend." I was trying to diffuse her embarrassment. We were two bikers talking about bikes. Nothing wrong with that. "I have a Specialized Source;” she got out then realized how BAD that sounded. She had the exact same bike as me; how bizarre? Unless you had somebody come down and take a look at what I bicycle I used. Time to save the day. "Do you want to make a date for 6:30 am on Saturday?" I suggested. "Provided this wacky place hasn't offed, or misplaced me by then." "Ah; that would be nice," Oneida rebounded happily. "The date, that is." "Whoa Oneida, what are you doing with this guy?" Brian derided me as he walked up. I wanted to say, 'Brian, you've insulted a princess of the Amazon people. Please continue making an ass of yourself and give Trent and Khalid my regards'. I didn't. "This is Cáel Nyilas. He's a real player," Brian smirked. "You can do better than him." Oh yeah, Oneida and Brian were co-workers; 'new hires' in Acquisitions. "Brian, it took you three days to even use my name," Oneida gave Brian a neutral stare. "I love Cáel. He saved my life and he sees the real me." For the love of all that's holy, someone shoot me in the head right now. I could hear the nearly subsonic growls emanating from Buffy. Brian looked at me, laughed and went to put an arm around Oneida's shoulder. After all, if I could pick her up, it should be effortless for him to take her away, right? Dumb-shit. Laughing at me was okay. Laughing at; then I noticed the two chicks in black leather standing about doing their best (until a second ago) to go unnoticed. Cáel had gotten away with such familiarity because Cáel had risked his life to save their Princess. Brian Fung? He barely knew her name and they worked together. These weren't even SD chicks; they were something else. My guess was Arinniti House Guard. Did Katrina's House Epona have a house guard? Sure, I imagine they did. They were probably with the rest of House Epona where ever they lived. It wasn't like the whole kit and caboodle was here in NYC. That would have been foolish. If Caitlyn, Aya's mom, had a security issue, she called us at Havenstone HQ, less than four kilometers away. Without a doubt, Elsa would stop by and kick ass for her. I gave Brian this much; he had a working set of eyes. The second those two harbingers of death began closing in, Brian back-pedaled. "Hey Brian, let's go grab some drinks," I offered him a graceful exit. "Sounds good," Brian tried to sound cool. "Oneida, take care," I nodded to my new romantic stalker. "Ladies," to my 'new hire' crew. "Buffy," to my sometimes boss, "remember you are still hot for a; mature chick." "You are going die a long, torturous and extremely painful death," Buffy sizzled. "What? Are you going to make me eat your cooking?" I laughed. Buffy didn't articulate a counter before Brian and I slipped outside. "Cáel, who was that woman?" Brian whispered. "Which one? You need to be more specific. My erotic malfeasances are terribly confusing." "The one you insulted," Brian said. "The last one you insulted," he clarified. "Buffy. She's one of my bosses," I grinned. "She loves me. She's even promised to play the bagpipes at my funeral. Personally I think that's because she doesn't want to risk anyone hearing me pounding on the coffin lid, trying to get out." "You are not going to make it the full 84 days with that attitude," Brian lectured me. "Trent has already been promoted," Brian continued. "I am regularly referred to as indispensable in my work reviews. Felix works closely with Ms. Pharos at all times. You seem to be the only one of us having; issues with Havenstone. Hell, they even shot you and you sat back and took it. I doubt your complacent attitude impressed anyone much." No mention of poor Khalid. How quickly they forget. Trent had been 'promoted' to Southeast Asia alright. I looked it up; there are around 10,000 islands between Indonesia and the Philippines. Sure some were small spits of land with a few trees. I had little doubt one of the good-sized one was a jungle of a different sort. Certainly Executive Services sent Trent's belongings somewhere. I'd never tried to find out. What would I have done with the knowledge? Brooke didn't care and I didn't know his family. Brian and I went to the same yuppie bar as last time. I was with Brian this time, so I abandoned him as quick as I could. Why? At the far end of the bar, talking the bar-back was my Delivery Girl; aka the person who did the home liquor delivery to Libra's place. Half way down the bar, she sensed me looking at her. The bar-back followed her gaze. He wasn't happy with me. DG simply didn't recognize me so I held up my valise over my groin. Confusion; surprise; acknowledgment that despite our surroundings, I wasn't worried about being seen with her. She had her hand truck; she had to make a front door delivery this time. "Remember me?" I smiled. "Cáel Nyilas; the Pillow Guy," she snickered. "How did that work out for you?" The bar-back was broadcasting his displeasure at some upper class shmuck cutting in on his action. DG caught that. "Jason, this is Cáel," she introduced me. "We last met under unusual circumstances." "What kind of name is Cáel?" Jason remarked. "An unfortunate one," I snorted. "You try explaining to your kindergarten teacher that it is 'c-a-e-l'. Of course, I wasn't 'Bomophoto' either. She had it worse than I did." Jason searched me out to see if I was pulling one over on him. I wasn't. Bomo and I bonded over our linguistic misfortune. She moved to Santa Fe in the third grade. I wonder if she grew up to be hot looking. Oink. "I'll give you that," he chuckled. "Why did you get branded?" "Mom was Irish, my Dad was in love with her so I got the cultural emersion, minus the Guinness," I shrugged. "By the way;” I looked back to the lady. "Katy Lee Baker," she batted her eyelashes. We shook hands. "How did it go?" I picked up her question. "Sex, chopped fruit, your drinks, more sex and back to the clinic before eleven." "Have you talked to them since?" Katy inquired somewhat seductively. "Perhaps. I don't like to kiss and tell," I evaded. "I'm curious because two of the three arrived five minutes before you did and they appear somewhat unhappy with you right now," she smirked. "You can look over your shoulder if you don't believe me." Sure enough, there was Felix, Brian, Brooke, Libra and; I think her name was Gina. I waved then turned back to my current two conversationalists. "So Jason, what do you like to do?" I asked the guy. "Huh; what? I work," he replied. "I mean bike, try ethnic food, go to the gym; stuff like that," I teased him. "I work six days a week; but usually one or two are afternoon shifts. Me and some buddies play some pick-up basketball," Jason told me. "Great. You'd pick a sport I suck at," I set the bait. If Jason thought I sucked, he'd invite me to play. That's how it worked. I was pretty good at basketball considering I'd spent the last four years playing with girls; on the court. Girls play some mean ball. They also didn't shy away from putting an elbow into my nuts if they felt like it. "I'm not sure I live in a neighborhood you'd be comfortable visiting," Jason threw up a roadblock. I had him on this one. I showed him my ID. It had the right address; wrong apartment number. "Shit dude, that place is about as rough as my home turf." "I get paid a quarter million a year to taste test for hexafluoride in Chinese imports," I joked. "Really?" Katy chuckled. "It's a growth industry; if you consider tumors to be growth," I was faux-serious. "Mr.; Cáel," Jason looked over my shoulder. "I think one of those chicks is about to come over here and kill you. You best hop to it." "Which one? The brunette, or the russet-colored (Libra)?" I inquired. "The brunette wants attention and the russet wants to push a red hot poker up your ass," Jason gave me his experienced opinion. Heading over there was going to be 'fun'. "Give me a call some time, Jason. Nice to see you again, Katy Lee," I waved good-bye. "You know the staff here?" Libra spat. "That was the girl who delivered the liquor to your place, Libra," I sighed. "I said 'hi'." "It takes you an awful lot of words to say 'hello'," Brian gave a false smile. Libra was positioned next to Brian. Her anger with me plus his 'sexy' put her there. Brooke shifted as I joined their chair-less center table. She was putting enough distance between us to show everyone she was independent yet close enough to give warning signs to other woman that I was in her sights, if not her outright possession. I was better looking than Brooke had counted on. More 'fun' was coming down the pipeline. Gina was here on another date with Felix, or so she thought. Poor Gina. Felix was most likely an excellent fuck. What she didn't appreciate was that Felix was not only a competitor, he was the kind of athlete who had to win. Second place was what you called the first loser. Gina was about to be educated in this personal idiocentricity. Now that I was on stage, Felix made his move on Brooke. Gina? He'd let her in on a three-way if he was feeling personally Hernán Cortés-like. Felix had to have Brooke. I hadn't dumped Brooke, according to Gina, so he wasn't getting my castoffs; he was stealing my prize. The flaw in this plan was my whole viewpoint on monogamy. I didn't much care for it. Brooke was a grown woman and could make her own choices. Felix made his move. Damn, he was smooth. He had Brooke wrapped up and pulled tight without Gina even being aware she'd been dumped. Enter the train wreck named Nicole. She was the criminal defense attorney who I'd fucked in a stall in the women's bathroom of this place. She hadn't tried to contact me and I hadn't worried about her. Hook-ups were like that. She'd been close by, respecting Brooke's signs and not stopping by to say hello. Then Felix launched his master plan and I was suddenly freed up. Nicole had gotten a rough fucking and liked it, I could tell. "Cáel Nyilas," Nicole swooped in. "How have you been?" "The normal. Menace to society, disrespectful of authority and being annoying to random strangers," I teased. "You?" "I'm a lawyer fighting the irresistible lure of evil. The usual," she joked back. "What have you been doing wrong? As I recall, last time you were doing everything right?" Yes, a good dicking indeed. I was going to relate this encounter to Timothy just so he could shoot me with his Nerf gun. He'd shoot me anyway, but it was nice of me to give him an excuse from time to time. "I've been sending sexually suggestive letters to ADA Feinstein," I offered. "Does that count?" "Oh really?" she seemed surprised. "Why don't you come by my table real quick and let me introduce you to some of my colleagues." I wasn't going to be rude. "Gang, this is Nicole," I introduced her to my table. "She's an attorney at a prestigious law firm that probably has more dead partners than living ones and offices in Papua New Guinea and a few dozen other places you've never heard of. I'll be right back." "You are a nut," Nicole bumped me as we weaved our way to her buddies. "Ladies, this is Cáel Nyilas. I think I mentioned him once." By the looks on their faces, once had been enough. "This is Zelda, Marsha, Phyllis, and Rivka; Rivka Feinstein, ADA for New York County," (that's Manhattan for us hicks). "Ah crap," I exclaimed. That wasn't what they expected. "I confess," I looked at Nicole, "I saw the name in an article on the back of the Village Voice. Sadly, they had R. Feinstein and I stupidly assumed it was a guy." "Oh my God! You're gay?" Zelda and Phyllis despaired. "While my life would a whole lot easier if I was, I'm straight; not even bi-curious. My roommate, Timothy; never Tim; is and he was reading it while I was working out. It sort of stuck in my mind," I admitted. "How did my name come up in conversation?" Rivka inquired. "Cáel is a pathological liar," Nicole teased me. "Not true," I protested. "I'm allergic to excessive honesty. That's totally different." "I'd like to put you on the witness stand," Zelda gave me those bedroom eyes. "You and about a 150 other women," I groaned. "150?" Rivka choked. "Yep. The rest already know I'm guilty," I muttered. "Are you of weak moral fiber?" Phyllis joined the game. We were all having a blast. "Sorry, but no. I'm saving up for some. Currently I'm without morals; or scruples. Any suggestion which one I should purchase first?" "You are a great guy," Rivka snickered. "Why aren't you dating somebody?" "Shall we revisit my lack of morals and scruples?" I answered. "So you are a player?" Nicole nudged me. She wanted to play alright. "How to put this; I'm a wonderful lover and a lousy boyfriend," I told them. "I was an eighteen year old virgin. In the past four years, I have betrayed every woman I've ever dated, save one; my first love," I explained. "Why didn't you betray her?" Phyllis prodded. "Don't tell me she's dead." "No, she's fine," I replied. "She was the one who told me to date other women." "That's harsh," Zelda commiserated. She thought Kimberly had dumped me. "Oh no," I corrected her. "We stayed together until I graduated last month. Four of the best years of my life. When she told me to date other women it was because I was killing her. I have a voracious sexual appetite and she was desperate for a full night's sleep." "Do you ever go home alone?" Marsha joined in. "Does leaving a woman's house at 1 a.m. count?" I requested. "Did she throw you out?" Rivka interrogated. "No. She and her sister were exhausted so I picked up my roommate and left," I exaggerated. "Wait!" Nicole held up her hand. "Sisters; and you told us your roommate was gay?" "Morals and scruples," I repeated. "See, I was dating one sister and the other sister wanted a date so I talked my gay roommate into being my wingman so I wouldn't end up sleeping with them both. It didn't work out so well. The second, older sister was horny, so my guy pretended to pass out." "Have you ever considered you are a horrible person?" Marsha studied me. "Yes. Not only have I thought about, I've been told that a few dozen times. It usually is accompanied by 'I'm going to kill you', or 'you had better make it up to me'." "Have you ever been hurt?" Phyllis appeared concerned. "My body is a roadmap of poor decision making," I responded. "What was the worst thing to ever happen to you?" Rivka grinned. Her ability to be deceptively pretty had to have made her a frightening lawyer. "When they were happening, I was a bit more concerned with what might happen to me as opposed to rating them," I informed her. "Except for being shot with an arrow, being chased around naked with a hot poker and having my bed dowsed with lighter fluid while I was still in it were probably the worst," I nodded. "I've been stabbed a few times, tasered, occasionally thrown out of a window not on the first floor and had bookcase dropped on me once, so I consider myself a connoisseur of ex-girlfriend vengeance." "Have you ever been involved with a police proceeding?" Rivka became a tad bit more intense. "Nah," shook my head. "I had it coming. As you said, I'm kind of a horrible guy." "Domestic violence is no joking matter," Nicole also became serious. "That's unfair," I countered. "I'm not so slavishly devoted to the law that I'd ruin some girl's life because I was a total bastard." "Domestic Violence laws are supposed to protect the innocent from the abusive," I added. "I haven't lied to you about my misadventures, but you should understand I chose to handle most of my problems myself. By the looks on your faces, you are about as disappointed in me as the policewoman I am currently seeing. This is who I am and I'm not going to apologize for it." "Mind you, I'm not some gun-toting, roughneck Libertarian," I clarified. "I believe in law, order and the justice system. If someone pulls out an AK-47 on me at a corner bodega, I'm making 9-1-1 my bitch on speed-dial. I don't want to be a hero, or fulfill my organ donor card. I just don't equate that to a girl kneeing me in the nuts because I slept with her best friend in her lingerie." There was a pause as the ladies looked around. They were making an assessment of how much trouble I'd cause versus how much fun I would be. They all smiled at me. They always do. "Who was wearing the lingerie?" Zelda smirked. "I've worn women's lingerie before, but it really wasn't my thing," I mused. "I'll go through a lot for good sex," I winked. "It was my girlfriend's lingerie on her best friend." "Wait," Rivka noted. "Didn't the best friend know you were dating the first girl?" "Yeah. I'm not sure why that never stops them," I shrugged. "Around the fifth time I stopped worrying about it." "Wow, do you have any idea how many women you've been with?" Rivka asked. "Do you always use protection?" Phyllis piled on. "Yes; 223 as of Friday. I'm hoping to break 300 before work replaces me with those guys from 'Hamster Dance'," I told them. "And yes, I always use protection." "I may not know where my partner has been, but I know where I've been and it scares me," I snickered. "That's why I always carry ten." "Ten?" Nicole snorted. "Do you regularly check the expiration date, or are you that ambitious?" "Ambitious? I'd carry more except it's hard to hide more than ten in a wallet; I've tried," I sighed. "Have you ever run out?" Marsha snickered. Our snickering, chuckling and laughter were drawing stares. "Run out? Hell, I've gone door to door in a women's dormitory at 2 a.m. trying to find some," I related. "Ran into an old girlfriend doing that." I slipped into a dreamy smile. "Why do I think that despite it being 2 a.m. in her dorm with you seeking a condom for use with a different woman, she wasn't pissed?" Rivka giggled. "Oh God no," I waved off. "She was freaking furious. That was some of the most intense 'I'm lonely and it's all your fault' sex I have ever been through." "You have names for different kinds of sex?" Nicole was almost crying from laughing so hard. "Oh yeah. The first time I run across a different sexual experience, I slap a name on it so when it happens again, I know what to do," I explained. "Isn't every woman unique?" Zelda sniffled. "That sounds nice in a love song, but 'no'," I smiled. "Women, and men, have a finite number things; needs and responses. Women can have different erogenous zones, but there all on the human body. Admittedly, it can be a bit like predicting the weather at times. It is not a perfect system by any means." "What's my 'thing' then?" Nicole taunted. She didn't think I could do it. "Sex has to be an accomplishment with you, Nicole," I informed her. "You need to be engaged mentally as much as anything else. You need a poet who runs marathons. Otherwise you end up staring at the ceiling after sex wondering what better use you could have made of your time." Silence. That was the norm for that kind of revelation. Women hated to be laid bare. They hated being misunderstood even more. "Nicole?" Rivka prodded her friend. Nicole remained silent. I knew that look. "Nicole, I'm bad news. Wouldn't you prefer to keeps thing simple?" I hoped. I was wrong to hope. I kept praying they would go 'hey, great, mindless sex; let's not blow it', but they never did. I hated giving lame erotic encounters, despite the guarantee of anguish that always followed. "We could go out on a date and see how that works?" Nicole offered. Doom. "Cáel Nyilas; I'm in the book and I work for Havenstone Commercial Investments," I stupidly replied. "You probably have a killer workload were as I spot-check children's toys for WMDs. Give me a call when you have a night free." How was it going to turn out? Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex; let's make a commitment; you cheating fuck-nut! I hate you. Girls weren't predictable; I was. "Cáel, we are going out to dinner, if you remember who you are supposed to be with," Libra seethed as she and the others passed Nicole's table. "Yup, gotta go where I'm not wanted. Nice seeing you again, Nicole," I grinned. "Ladies, I hope it was a pleasure. It was for me. Good night." Dinner; was; bad. Felix, hemorrhoid that he was, squashed Gina's feeble attempts to draw him back to her as he made crystal clear that he was taking Brooke home; to fuck her into Paradise; instead of letting her go home with me. Problem being; Brooke wasn't mine to take; never had been. For the first time in his life, I thought Brian was about to be screwed. Libra was past uber-bitchy by the fifth glass of wine. Brian held a pair of Jokers and thought he was the boss, like always. Libra had four Queens and would be screaming my name when she orgasmed; Brian was sexually proficient. He was also a misogynist, I was now sure, and Libra was going to make him squeal. Then she was going to grab up her clothes, storm out of Brian's place and never want to talk with him again. It wasn't that I was that unforgettable. I was that I knew what she wanted and had given it to her and not getting it Saturday afternoon while Brooke did was frosting her ass. What did that mean for me? For the first time in a long, long time, I was pissed with another guy. Trent really wasn't worth my time, but Felix was about to cross my here-until-now unforeseen line of what guys did to girls. It was dawning on me that this was the result of me. Someone was doing something wrong to a girl because of me. It wasn't my fault. Felix was being a jerk. That would be of cold comfort for Brooke. We split up after dinner. I didn't have the heart to pick up Gina, who was easy prey right then. It was too much like what Felix thought he was doing to me. I took a cab to Havenstone, changed clothing and biked home. I barely had dinner ready for Timothy when he came through the door. "That's not a look I'm used to seeing," he remarked. "I should have beaten someone up," I frowned, "but I didn't and now some girl; Brooke; is going to have her heart kicked because of it." "Was it something you did?" Timothy asked. "No. There is this guy at work who is using her to alpha-dog me," I muttered. "Brooke?" Timothy was confused. "You hardly like her. What a sleaze (Felix). If it was Odette, first I'd slap you around for still being here. Then we'd go get him." "I'm not even sure why I feel bad about this," I grunted. "As you said, I hardly like her." "It is called a conscience, Dimwit," Timothy snorted. That didn't help much. Conscience? Man, I'd stop my bike to run across a highway to move a tortoise off the road. I used to feed some of the Bolingbrook wild hares during the winter. I did humiliating crap for charity. I was never mean to a girl; only dishonest and unfaithful. Introspection got me nowhere. I was a cad. I'd been happy to be a cad for four years. I was going to be damned if my post-college life was going to be any different; all 68 remaining days of it. In my bedroom I discovered Odette had moved in during my absence. I doubted Timothy had been ignorant of all the stuff she deposited. What was going on with my life? I woke up when I heard keys in the door. It was a bit past eleven. I got up to check and sure enough, it was Odette. Timothy had given her a key. Odette had lived through a harrowing night, her boss was a dick and some of the customers were pure hell. I cuddled with her on the sofa while she unwound then we went to bed together. We didn't have sex; (Tuesday) Around 1 a.m. I miraculously found myself awake and alert in bed. Odette was happily dreaming away. Something was gnawing at the back of my mind. I put a name to the emotion and a face to the fear. I called Brooke. "Hey Brooke," I greeted her eight tries later. She was tired of sending me to voice mail. "What do you want?" she answered in a voice devoid of soul. "Fuck if I know," I replied. "I suddenly woke up from a sound sleep thinking of you." "I'm not interested," she sighed. "I'm going to go out on a limb here. You don't want to talk to anyone yet you want someone to help you understand what you are going through," I gambled. That created a tiny tear in her shroud of depression. After five minutes, I got her to give me her address. She told me she wouldn't answer the door. I told her I at least had to try. That got me to her place, 90 seconds of knocking got me inside and four minutes later, we were lying in bed with her sobbing on my chest. Half an hour later, she offered me sex. I told her to stop tempting me and if she only wanted me for sex, I wanted to be paid in chocolate. She giggled, took a few deep breaths and fell to sleep. Wow, I was in two different women's beds in one night and not having sex in either. My watch alarm went off at 4:50 a.m. That meant no 'Marilyn' call tonight. "Mmm;” Brooke moved toward wakefulness. "Work?" "Afraid so," I yawned. "We haven't had sex," he reminded me. I couldn't stop being me. "That's not why I came over here, Brooke," I rolled onto my side so that our bodies were very close. "Never think I don't want to have sex with you, but that's not why I showed up last night," I continued. "Why did you show up then?" she worried. "I have no clue. I'm like Felix; a player. Listen Brooke, I don't consider you my woman," I stated. "We had sex; we are lovers, but we've been thrown together by dire misfortune, not out of any common thread," I reminded her. "I don't expect you to have any sense of loyalty to me." That phrase freed her up philosophically. That meant she could fuck me and not feel obliged to consider and discard any future for us because there was no realistic future that socially glued us into any acceptable form. "So I needed a shoulder to cry on and you showed up," she mused. "Brooke, you are independent and strong-willed. The next guy you chose will be your choice," I led her along. "Felix though; Felix is a serious player and he felt the need to add you to his list of conquests. I saw it happening and did nothing. Now I feel like crap for sitting back and ignoring the consequences." "You knew Felix would turn me into a hash mark?" Brooke seemed depressed, not angry. "I knew he was trying to get at me," I confessed. "He didn't accept that you and I aren't an item. A blonde co-worker; a high ranking supervisor actually; treated him like a bug in the communal showers yesterday while keeping close contact with me. Felix had to win. He had to show me he is the top dog." "And I was the prize?" Brooke moped. "Not to me," I whispered. Brooke looked hurt. "You are a woman. While you would look delectable in a big red ribbon, that's not who you are. I don't keep hash marks. I have a thing called a heart cord and it is solely for my use. Each binding represents a liaison; like a Quipus; an Incan memory knot." Brooke really didn't care. It sounded neat, it was romantic and the act was not demeaning to her. I could savor the memory of our encounter as long as I didn't share it with my buddies. She wasn't one of 'those' girls. "You are very intelligent," she murmured seductively. She didn't care if I was the reincarnation of Benjamin Franklin, or some schmo in Afghanistan who made his living digging up (hopefully) spent ordinance of battlefields. Smoking hot, sexy, well-educated debutantes like Brooke could fuck finely-sculpted, 'smart' guys like me. She could delude herself that I was rapidly upwardly mobile. My turn. "Brooke, I don't want to get mixed up about us," I evaded. 'Us'? There was no 'us' and we both knew it. "If I caved in right now, I'm not sure I could forgive myself." Yes I could. "I just want to feel like someone gives a damn about me," Brooke whimpered. Good acting. We wrestled around; me trying to leave, but clearly not wanting to, while she physically enticed me. We ended up, me on top, pinning her wrists to either side of her head. Her legs were trapped between mine. "Make it up to me; please," she pouted. She humped her pelvic bone playfully against my cock. "I know you want to help me out." Good word usage on her part. "Brooke, this isn't going to happen," I gritted my teeth in frustration. Yes, it was going to happen. Her right leg began exerting steady pressure against my 'weak' left leg. It slowly 'surrendered' to her advance. Now she had on leg on the outside. My right leg held out a little longer yet Brooke was persistent. Now she could ground her finely groomed landing strip against my pulsating rod. I really, really wanted to fuck her now. I took my hands off her wrists, turned them into fists and placed the beneath each of her underarms. "Damn you," I cursed her. Brooke was gyrating her crotch all over mine. With her hands released, Brooke could leverage her body up and trap my cockhead between her labia. They were thoroughly soaked with her honey so after my 'capture' she drew more and more of my length in until I was completely incased. Brooke had won! She knew she'd won. Fuck Felix and his hash marks. I didn't care so why should she? I made on last energetic yet futile effort to get away. Oddly, Brooke somehow end on top at the end of my exertion. I must be an awful wrestler; "No you don't," Brooke purred only millimeters from my lips. "You are not getting away." That was Brooke tossing good ole Felix under the emotional bus. Felix the Player? She'd chalk it up to too much to drink and the hype being more than the man. How was this possible? Look at her. She'd thrown a known sexual dynamo down on her bed and was working his shaft over every G-spot in her vagina. Brooke still preferred a long, rough fucking to get her off. At the moment, she need reassurance more. Felix most assuredly made Brooke ride him. He kept her perpendicular to his hips and came up to suckle her teats when he wanted to, or watch them bounce as he lay back. He was great at sex, no doubt. The girl had to scream and howl; forgetting every other male she was ever with and making every other guy she'd be with later an automatic failure. To him, that was how he rated success. This resulted in me keeping Brooke close so I could make quick kisses to her very close lips. She'd playfully pull away; to put me in my place and remind me she was in charge; then she'd initiate the kiss. Our love-making was more rhythmic; less frantic. She was getting close. "Next; next time you fuck Felix," I gasped. "Tell him; " "What makes; makes you think I'd; every sleep with him; again?" Brooke got feisty. "I bet he was good in bed and now that you have his measure," I assured her. "You can take what pleasure you want and leave." Brooke liked that. It was the whole independent woman thing. "Won't you be jealous?" she panted. "I cannot constantly keep up with your sexual desires, Brooke," I grunted. "I've been neglecting Libra." Oh yeah, Libra. The girl she, Brooke, initially set me up with. Her Vassar classmate. "What about Felix," she huffed and huffed. She was real close. "Off-handedly comment that he's developing male pattern baldness," I grinned. "Just to fuck with his head." Felix was gorgeous. Better yet, Felix knew he was gorgeous. Hit him where it hurts. Brooke tried to giggle, but the surge of triumph overcame her and off she went. The problem was I was getting close and I didn't have a condom on. "Brooke," I inhaled deeply. She'd come to rest on my chest. "I'm about to; " "Oh," she sighed happily. She reversed to the side as she slithered down my body. My cock went down her throat and I started petting her flank. Brooke wasn't the very best, but, man o man, she was going to town on my dick. There was no doubt in my mind that her vaginal secretions didn't bother her. I had to rush the experience because if I was late to work, Constanza make me stand beside the targets while she shot at them. If she was really pissed, she'd have me hold up targets in front me instead. I shot off, Brooke caught it all in her mouth then spit it into two tissues before tossing them in the trash. I caught her look. Trent and now Felix made her swallow. I didn't care; which was yet another choice Brooke was free to make when making love to me. I jumped her. We had a little, tickle-nibble fight that ended in some kisses. I had to leave and Brooke made sure she was poised extra-sexy the last time I turned around to say goodnight and cut off the lights. "Ah damn," I moaned before I left. I didn't really like Brooke yet, by choosing to engage her in sex, I had accepted the task of making her happy. That was the reason Felix and I were going to fight. He'd use another human being to strike at me instead striking at me directly. To me, this was more than low character, it was an insult to my lifestyle. Felix should have checked his baggage at the door. Competing for the same lady was fine; even fun. Picking one to punish another; not cool. I had to think about my response as I barely made it in for my Constanza time. Wisely, I left my baggage at the door. These were firearms we were dealing with; a danger to me and the people around me. I was in my biking outfit today. More looks. The decision was that I'd go for my Glock-22, a 38 Ruger LCR back-up, a South Korean-made shotgun that looked like an M-16 and a very unhealthy looking device called a Heckler  and  Koch UMP 40 (which I had never even heard of). Wait; it got worse. I was scheduled for knife fighting training at 3 p.m.; every day for the foreseeable future. Constanza didn't w

Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..

Danes zaznamujemo dan reformacije, ki obuja spomin na versko, družbeno-politično in kulturno gibanje v 16. stoletju. Slovenci hkrati zaznamujemo rojstvo slovenskega knjižnega jezika. Predsednica republike Nataša Pirc Musar je v poslanici dejala, da slavimo kulturno in duhovno dediščino, ki je Slovencem omogočila enega pomembnejših korakov na poti k oblikovanju našega naroda. Druge teme: - Po poplavah v Španiji nadaljujejo iskanje pogrešanih. - V usklajevanju je zakon za ureditev pravic brezposelnih. - V okolici številnih pokopališč spremenjen prometni režim.

Kakšen vpliv ima umetna inteligenca na ustvarjanje književnosti? Koliko so in koliko bodo pametna orodja pomagala literarnim ustvarjalkam in ustvarjalcem? Bomo v prihodnje literaturo delili na tisto, ki jo je ustvaril človek, in tisto, ki jo je ustvarila umetna inteligenca? Kako je v teh primerih z vprašanjem avtorstva in avtorskih pravic? Vprašanj, povezanih s tem, je vedno več. O njih v tokratnem Studiu ob 17.00. Gosta: Vuk Ćosić, avtor knjige Nacija – Kultura (LUD Šerpa, 2022); Jernej Županič, avtor knjige Navade in uzance (Črna skrinjica, 2023).

Vsako leto več kot 60 milijonov ljudi potrebuje paliativno oskrbo, od tega pa je vsaj sedem odstotkov otrok, opozarjajo strokovnjaki. Poudarjajo, da je umiranje še vedno stigmatizirana tema. Področje pesti pomanjkanje kadra ter nedorečeni standardi in normativi. Mobilni paliativni timi bi morali biti dostopni 24 ur na dan vse dni v tednu, a je njihova dostopnost različna po regijah, zato v praksi nimajo vsi državljani možnosti kadarkoli poklicati zdravstvenega delavca. Država sicer namenja sredstva za njihovo delovanje, a številke kažejo, da so ljudje v lanskem in predlanskem letu koristili le slabo polovico njihovih storitev. Kaj je privedlo do takšnih številk, zakaj je zakon o paliativni in hospic oskrbi padel v vodo, kdaj bomo dobili več hospic namestitev - trenutno imamo namreč samo eno, kje je v tej zgodbi država in kje entuziastični posamezniki, ki poganjajo sistem paliative v državi? Gostje: dr. Maja Ebert Moltara, državna koordinatorica paliativne oskrbe na Ministrstvu za zdravje in vodja specializiranega paliativnega tima na Onkološkem inštitutu Ljubljana; dr. Anamarija Kejžar, profesorica na Fakulteti za socialno delo in nekdanja direktorica domov za starejše občane; Petra Gornik, vodja mobilnega paliativnega tima v Splošni bolnišnici Novo mesto, sicer specialistka splošne kirurgije; Tatjana Fink, vodja Hiše Ljubhospic.

Povpraševanje po nepremičninah na trgu močno presega ponudbo, cene rastejo, cenovno dostopnih stanovanj je premalo. Največje pomanjkanje stanovanj je v mestih, najbolj kritično je v Ljubljani in na Obali. Krivca za tako stanje gre iskati v odsotnosti ustrezne stanovanjske politike v zadnjih 30 letih. Vlada namerava z novelo stanovanjskega zakona med drugim urediti sistemsko financiranje stanovanjskih skladov, to pa naj bi pospešilo zidavo javnih neprofitnih stanovanj. Kaj novela zakona še prinaša in kje so največje ovire pri njeni implementaciji, o tem v tokratnem Studiu ob 17h. Gostje: Slavka Janžekovič, JSS MOL; Maša Hawlina, Inštitut za študije stanovanj in prostora; dr. Klemen Ploštajner, Ministrstvo za solidarno prihodnost.

⏰ Driiiiiiiiiing! Evoooo! Sva zgodaj spet krenila. Ko je taka gužva. Žiga je takoj vprašal, kako je Jaša, ko je pet klubov v treh pikah. Ja, ja. To je to! Toooo jeeee tooo!

V letu, ko mineva 100 let od prve zlate olimpijske medalje, ki jo je Leon Štukelj dosegel v mnogoboju, bo na poletne olimpijske igre odpotovalo največ slovenskih športnikov do zdaj. S svojimi uspehi nas razveseljujejo v številnih, tudi ekipnih športih. Slovenci smo ponosni na to, da smo glede na število prebivalcev v samem vrhu osvojenih kolajn, tudi sicer pa smo športno precej aktiven narod. Kje so razlogi za uvrstitve naših športnikov na velika tekmovanja, na zmagovalne odre in olimpijske igre? In zakaj strokovnjaki s Fakultete za šport opozarjajo, da brez sistemskih sprememb na področju športa v šolah čez deset let mogoče ne bomo več imeli veliko vrhunskih športnikov, za katere bi lahko navijali?