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Eric Hansen joins Darin to talk Notre Dame football plus the voice of the South Bend Cubs Brenden King and Darin's ND "Game by Game predictions"See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Eric Hansen joins Darin to talk Notre Dame football plus the voice of the South Bend Cubs Brenden King and Darin's ND "Game by Game predictions"See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Miroki had the chance to catch the recent Weird Al show at the Budweiser stage - and she had some thoughts on the hospitality offered. Miroki and André finally catch up on the same continent - and they go through what they are looking forward to about i4C. You can still grab a last minute ticket by visiting https://www.coolchardonnay.orgLast André shares a memory of his time spent with the late Nicolas Potel of Domaine Roche de Bellene who recently passed away - We offer condolences to the Potel family - and to everyone mourning this loss. You can follow Miroki on Instagram @9ouncespleaseYou can follow André on Instagram @andrewinereview Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. Blue and Gold's Notre Dame recruiting insider Mike Singer discusses the latest recruiting rankings, Cubs broadcaster from Marquee Sports Network Alex Cohen talks North Siders, plus Celebration of Hope Chairperson Rick Peltz discusses this week's events. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. Blue and Gold's Notre Dame recruiting insider Mike Singer discusses the latest recruiting rankings, Cubs broadcaster from Marquee Sports Network Alex Cohen talks North Siders, plus Celebration of Hope Chairperson Rick Peltz discusses this week's events. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
WEALTHSTEADING Podcast investing retirement money stock market & wealth
Episode 479 Why do I buy a stock? Sounds like a simple question but I think most people get it wrong. Sign up for free ALERTs & Market Commentary at: https://www.investablewealth.com/subscribe/ ------------------------------------------------------
Notre Dame Football Talk. Blue and Gold's Tyler Horka talks Notre Dame football and where the Irish should be ranked in the pre-season top 25 polls, Joe Binder from Soxon35th.com talks White Sox baseball, South Bend Cubs assistant GM Chris Hagstrom-Jones on this week's homestand, and Darin offers his top five "realistic" Chicago Cubs starting pitcher targets. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. Blue and Gold's Tyler Horka talks Notre Dame football and where the Irish should be ranked in the pre-season top 25 polls, Joe Binder from Soxon35th.com talks White Sox baseball, South Bend Cubs assistant GM Chris Hagstrom-Jones on this week's homestand, and Darin offers his top five "realistic" Chicago Cubs starting pitcher targets. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
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. Imm breaking down, jim boy Don't you know? That this show blows my mind But it's stuck in my head Don't you know That this show Blows my mind Like a firework But it's still Stuck in my Head The context is that I want you From the mustache Down to your tonsils But I'm Locke inside of a box Every day I feel poorer and poorer The product says something is wrong to me I'm supposed to just stop at the stop sign And look both directions Before crossing over to Comic nights At the salad bar What a cosmic waste of time And an epic waste of space Am I in your internet history I'm dead You surely are in mine, But I'm right behind you I'd be lying for trying to say I'm not binded Clutch bag, Nut-thins Nailed to the cross With the arches doubled over The crossword Above old Missouri Missoula and Arkansas All saw us run out of gas But I probably should just get going You're so drunk that I don't hope you sober up Understand that our little talks Were just buffered By sunrise Or sunset And two more cocktails, Shirley temples and Surely none of this ever even happened I only know you by the misery in my belly. The heartache in my ribcage. The cry I hold in silent I only know you as Remarkable I, House of cards Ace of wands Down to one Card of hades and Spare me the spade I'll be drifting in the outline and ink of it forever It's the Fourth of July and I'm just waiting on an Amazon order for water If that's not freedom I don't k me what is Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Jay Leno used to keep a $50 bill and bribe venues to perform; every since I learned this, I kept a crisp $50 bill in my wallet at all times, just in case— you never knew when you would really need $50. But everything burned holes in everything, not always wanting to spend money at all, but almost sort of having to. It wasn't fair that the main component of my being slowed down was the money factor— having to wait for everything took time I didn't have, and spending anything at all felt less like an effective investment than an obligation. But all things considered, I was obliged to at least look decent when going about in New York, and because I simply wasn't comfortable in anything else— not that I didn't look great, (Apparently narrarated by Jay Leno) Jay Sure, why not? ME: Fuck, I need new pants. ME: [BLU THA GURU] Hence the pants, I guess. V.O As a formerly 400-pound heavyweight I find my latest obstacle to be operating a body that half the time doesn't feel like mine at all. It seems like all the hosts have some kind of secret I can feel without knowing or really acknowledging head on, which is whatever. Really I'm just gonna go about keeping on being a DJ, or whatever, which means… GEMINI (in the future) A fully automated personal assistant system, GEMINI, is really THE GUARDIAN's one and only friend, and though she coyly continually must explain that she is “just a computer”, THE GUARDIAN believes that Gemini is capable of eventually developing a sentient conciousness, though GEMINI modestly disagrees, however with the wit and cleverness of having possession of a plethora of secret emotions, or maybe, even, an agenda. I probably haven't had enough coffee. That's it. Like you haven't already had enough to kill a small horse? Probably enough to kill a large horse. Like a Clydesdale. Why would you do something like that? Aren't they endangered? Or going extinct? No, I think they just stopped being the Budweiser mascot. *shrugs* Same difference. — Is it here? lol what did Conan order? [yes this appears to be yet another rendition of “what's in the box?” — Several years ago, I did a series of modules and experiments… How many years ago is “several” [beat] quite a few. Goddamn it, why are these guys all doctors in alternate parallels?! Aren't you a doctor in an alternate parallel? That's fair. Good point. Actually, as it turns out, i'm a— I started panicking so hard that I stopped breathing and suddenly STEFON appeared. — this however was only quite temporarily a relief as I realized that this is an imaginary character. STEFON OH. AM I?! IMAGINARY!? What the fuck is going on? STEFON I WILL “IMAGINARY” your ORIFICE! How about THAT?! Stefon. Calm down. I'm up late Dying the roots blonde Dad runs off with a bottle and a hottie I'm up early Gotta get gone Down the road and back Now I got no son No son, No sunroof No dad No mom No money No aunt What the fuck do you want? Can't watch Harry Potter All the magic is gone Bout a million one dollars It was only for fun Snap, crackle, pop It was cocaine, not love All I want is an ice cream Sunday Snap, crackle, pop It was Love, not God All I want All I want Is to find another All he wants All he wants Is a decent mother So along comes another Another one All he wants All he wants is for me To die homeless Sucker punch, Suck it up No one gives a fuck My daughter died in my arms on May 7th of 2015. I was 381 pounds. Maybe the tears needed to come but they didn't belong to anyone or anything in particular. The twins father was already a rampant cheater by the time of our marriage, and by the time the twins were born, which coincided— and unlike the latter had tried to claim or mention, I had no particular reason to have a harder time between the spring and summer months which spanned both our birthdays, our wedding date, the twins' arrival and both of the twins deaths, though years apart but still almost as convincing that had they both not died, we might still be together, being cheated on or cheating on each other with ten your twins and an eight year old, or a ten year old boy with special needs and an eight year old, and either way or in any fashion really, had the dysfunctions remained the way it had been, we all, so to speak, had special needs in one way or another. I spent the morning punching things and avoiding people I didn't want to be around but it was my own fault for having slept through the night, anyway. Whatever, I was tired— no, exhausted lately. My apartment was like living inside of an uphill battle, and I needed a change— not just of slavery, but of circumstances. And not just that— something else was missing. This year, I understood that I was taking it understandably harder than any other and most probably because I was so celibate, recently finding myself aromantic and not even willing to suffer the consequences of settling for less. I had settled on my ex husband for so much less, that it was so say the least that anything, even from my narrow perspective looked like a loser. And because my body had been stretched and swelled and shrunk and flattened, deflated and now worked to something that was almost as picturesque as it was a monstrosity, any man I thought was worth my time would be settling for less on me— unless he could afford to fix what had been broken, and I assumed one wouldn't be willing to settle on a fixer upper when there were numerous loads of perfect women not needing to be fixed at all… on the outside. But for men, I'd learned, the outside is of much importance, and as women and trophies are things of pride, the simple choice for a mate is not simply this, but also a business decision, and because while my body was coming together in sweat and muscle, the rest of my life was still otherwise completely in shambles. I was baggage, and aging by the minute, nearly drying up. I almost craved the liquor and the carelessness that would come with it, even knowing my own boundaries were part of my strengths and separating me in a way from others that at least became a point of pride in myself, in the wake of the reality that the human thing about most people is the need to escape so frequently that it dismisses any purpose or progress. Mine hadn't. I was wide awake and the relentlessness of the sobriety and the cellibacy had swelled up into something deeper, still a solid grief but without remorse as to the very thing that I had always known, that my loyalty would never have even drifted from someone who had all along done me so wrong— a fat man can get away with folandering and messing about, but a fat woman has little to do with options and again, settling to find another mate. And so really, I almost hadn't, and had broken even, and although my abuser has moved on with another woman and custody of my youngest to boot, I really didn't give much of a darn about… hard work. I kind of felt like I had done my part for the world in the way I was supposed to— to love a man with nothing when he's low and down, support him in his hard times, and thinking that this is the way to grow together and not apart, and to bring a family up and into this world, but the truth was quite the opposite— I picked a hardball and maybe it was just that I was born to suffer after all because now, looking back, all alone in New York and crying over all the losses, it seemed I had only outpiured love in the way I had wanted and never been poured love back— not in the way I needed. I wasn't as bitter now as maybe even I thought I should be, but I was hardened; what was that, you say? Your struggles? Your hardships. Excuse me while I escape the ghosts of bloody beatings and my lost child— I beg your pardon— children. Excuse me while I recover from the burning flames of homelessness as if humanely explainable that I was learned and taught that this, my country, is the greatest one of all. Ha ha, Charade you are. But all things were, and everything seemed of sawdust, betrayal, magic, and illusions— mind control and shadows and even now in the air of the relief that something which could haunt me forever was also probably the most solid foundation I had for means as escape from whatever I had fought my way somehow so hard out of, and still, it was quite the funhouse of mazes, a matrix of mirror, and still the tears came with the pain in my stomach where the soul would sit if it had room, and would quiet if it could rest, but it would not. I was in pain today, because I had to be, because all of my life was programmed into these little machines of data and checked boxes— and something if anything knew just how and when to cut the wrong wire just so that the bomb would explode or implore on another lost thing; it wasn't fair, but there was no escape. Psychology was right on this day, may 7th, that once you cry about one thing unless you were stopped in time, eventually you'd cry about another and another and another, and even after hours working out and a bathtub full of hot water just writing, I still felt as if I were going to keel over one way or another, to crumble into a ball or to fall onto my back like a death drop that rippled out into the entire wherever we all are. Simply put, does anybody now in this moment or any moment near enough to be taking in this notion with these words really know— where we are? Not even in the slightest,I'd bargain, And even if we are close to knowing, not nearly close enough to be sure. {Enter The Multiverse} Joke running For the taking Triplicate Triple licks Ice cream frosting Every morning Shoulda hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't Milk and butter (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't Double hitter, Could have did it Should have hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didnt. But I didn't Should have hit him Up But I didn't I never lost my mind My mind My kind But I think I'll find another like it Just in case the Ever happens Hit me harder next time Didn't quite unplug the sijukatoon This is getting difficult When you want sink your yellow teeth into All of my traits The betrayal is, though I was writing days and days Before it ended. With the Mister particular Drop of a hat And stop if a nugget Of gold One palm in my hand and This could be torture But instead it's just The remienxe of your ignorance And stupidity over and over again Forced into intermittent waves Of my creative genius Till the days of old become again You could be of dust then nothing Before I ponder into another birth I said I'd never write one song or verse or poem about you, But there you are, every weak mortal that becomes Bound to me So I see you die. And I learn to pounce at just the right moment React to the notion that there are Oceans of world I am And all the more the lack of wisdom of man To throw trash in it Again, we rid you of her courage And lady mantras And fresh as it gets The sweater no aprons and just period To circumstance Did you beg or did you shatter your ibdederence? And no, I think not But I keep Leno in my pocket And Carson in my coffin, Two whole shows in my wallet What you are is no apostle just a dirt worm .O. Mm…sunlight. …. the rippling waves wash over the picturesque parasicical seascape from above. However, Stefon's internal monologue is less than pleased to be here. V.O. CONT'D Why do I feel sunlight…? [beat] When I know certainly for sure that I passed out in a basement last night. His eyes begin to flutter open, but the sun closes them–it is much too bright. The waves rush over his lower half, and still, unmoving he continues to la atop the rock, his hands spread out much like a stuck sea star to the rock– in fact, there appear to also be creatures here, some of which are starfish, and however unmoving, STEFON begins to slowly become aware of his surroundings in disgruntlement. V.O. Continued. It's alright that I appear to be wet…[beat] That's to be expected– [a long pause, another wave washes over him as seagulls scream] But i was wearing restraints…. V.O. CONTINUED WHY AM I FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!? His eyes open with the fear and fury. BEFORE: At a wild basement party in NEW YORK CITY, STEFON is offered RESTRAINTS on a silver platter, as if they are o'devours {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.
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. Imm breaking down, jim boy Don't you know? That this show blows my mind But it's stuck in my head Don't you know That this show Blows my mind Like a firework But it's still Stuck in my Head The context is that I want you From the mustache Down to your tonsils But I'm Locke inside of a box Every day I feel poorer and poorer The product says something is wrong to me I'm supposed to just stop at the stop sign And look both directions Before crossing over to Comic nights At the salad bar What a cosmic waste of time And an epic waste of space Am I in your internet history I'm dead You surely are in mine, But I'm right behind you I'd be lying for trying to say I'm not binded Clutch bag, Nut-thins Nailed to the cross With the arches doubled over The crossword Above old Missouri Missoula and Arkansas All saw us run out of gas But I probably should just get going You're so drunk that I don't hope you sober up Understand that our little talks Were just buffered By sunrise Or sunset And two more cocktails, Shirley temples and Surely none of this ever even happened I only know you by the misery in my belly. The heartache in my ribcage. The cry I hold in silent I only know you as Remarkable I, House of cards Ace of wands Down to one Card of hades and Spare me the spade I'll be drifting in the outline and ink of it forever It's the Fourth of July and I'm just waiting on an Amazon order for water If that's not freedom I don't k me what is Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Jay Leno used to keep a $50 bill and bribe venues to perform; every since I learned this, I kept a crisp $50 bill in my wallet at all times, just in case— you never knew when you would really need $50. But everything burned holes in everything, not always wanting to spend money at all, but almost sort of having to. It wasn't fair that the main component of my being slowed down was the money factor— having to wait for everything took time I didn't have, and spending anything at all felt less like an effective investment than an obligation. But all things considered, I was obliged to at least look decent when going about in New York, and because I simply wasn't comfortable in anything else— not that I didn't look great, (Apparently narrarated by Jay Leno) Jay Sure, why not? ME: Fuck, I need new pants. ME: [BLU THA GURU] Hence the pants, I guess. V.O As a formerly 400-pound heavyweight I find my latest obstacle to be operating a body that half the time doesn't feel like mine at all. It seems like all the hosts have some kind of secret I can feel without knowing or really acknowledging head on, which is whatever. Really I'm just gonna go about keeping on being a DJ, or whatever, which means… GEMINI (in the future) A fully automated personal assistant system, GEMINI, is really THE GUARDIAN's one and only friend, and though she coyly continually must explain that she is “just a computer”, THE GUARDIAN believes that Gemini is capable of eventually developing a sentient conciousness, though GEMINI modestly disagrees, however with the wit and cleverness of having possession of a plethora of secret emotions, or maybe, even, an agenda. I probably haven't had enough coffee. That's it. Like you haven't already had enough to kill a small horse? Probably enough to kill a large horse. Like a Clydesdale. Why would you do something like that? Aren't they endangered? Or going extinct? No, I think they just stopped being the Budweiser mascot. *shrugs* Same difference. — Is it here? lol what did Conan order? [yes this appears to be yet another rendition of “what's in the box?” — Several years ago, I did a series of modules and experiments… How many years ago is “several” [beat] quite a few. Goddamn it, why are these guys all doctors in alternate parallels?! Aren't you a doctor in an alternate parallel? That's fair. Good point. Actually, as it turns out, i'm a— I started panicking so hard that I stopped breathing and suddenly STEFON appeared. — this however was only quite temporarily a relief as I realized that this is an imaginary character. STEFON OH. AM I?! IMAGINARY!? What the fuck is going on? STEFON I WILL “IMAGINARY” your ORIFICE! How about THAT?! Stefon. Calm down. I'm up late Dying the roots blonde Dad runs off with a bottle and a hottie I'm up early Gotta get gone Down the road and back Now I got no son No son, No sunroof No dad No mom No money No aunt What the fuck do you want? Can't watch Harry Potter All the magic is gone Bout a million one dollars It was only for fun Snap, crackle, pop It was cocaine, not love All I want is an ice cream Sunday Snap, crackle, pop It was Love, not God All I want All I want Is to find another All he wants All he wants Is a decent mother So along comes another Another one All he wants All he wants is for me To die homeless Sucker punch, Suck it up No one gives a fuck My daughter died in my arms on May 7th of 2015. I was 381 pounds. Maybe the tears needed to come but they didn't belong to anyone or anything in particular. The twins father was already a rampant cheater by the time of our marriage, and by the time the twins were born, which coincided— and unlike the latter had tried to claim or mention, I had no particular reason to have a harder time between the spring and summer months which spanned both our birthdays, our wedding date, the twins' arrival and both of the twins deaths, though years apart but still almost as convincing that had they both not died, we might still be together, being cheated on or cheating on each other with ten your twins and an eight year old, or a ten year old boy with special needs and an eight year old, and either way or in any fashion really, had the dysfunctions remained the way it had been, we all, so to speak, had special needs in one way or another. I spent the morning punching things and avoiding people I didn't want to be around but it was my own fault for having slept through the night, anyway. Whatever, I was tired— no, exhausted lately. My apartment was like living inside of an uphill battle, and I needed a change— not just of slavery, but of circumstances. And not just that— something else was missing. This year, I understood that I was taking it understandably harder than any other and most probably because I was so celibate, recently finding myself aromantic and not even willing to suffer the consequences of settling for less. I had settled on my ex husband for so much less, that it was so say the least that anything, even from my narrow perspective looked like a loser. And because my body had been stretched and swelled and shrunk and flattened, deflated and now worked to something that was almost as picturesque as it was a monstrosity, any man I thought was worth my time would be settling for less on me— unless he could afford to fix what had been broken, and I assumed one wouldn't be willing to settle on a fixer upper when there were numerous loads of perfect women not needing to be fixed at all… on the outside. But for men, I'd learned, the outside is of much importance, and as women and trophies are things of pride, the simple choice for a mate is not simply this, but also a business decision, and because while my body was coming together in sweat and muscle, the rest of my life was still otherwise completely in shambles. I was baggage, and aging by the minute, nearly drying up. I almost craved the liquor and the carelessness that would come with it, even knowing my own boundaries were part of my strengths and separating me in a way from others that at least became a point of pride in myself, in the wake of the reality that the human thing about most people is the need to escape so frequently that it dismisses any purpose or progress. Mine hadn't. I was wide awake and the relentlessness of the sobriety and the cellibacy had swelled up into something deeper, still a solid grief but without remorse as to the very thing that I had always known, that my loyalty would never have even drifted from someone who had all along done me so wrong— a fat man can get away with folandering and messing about, but a fat woman has little to do with options and again, settling to find another mate. And so really, I almost hadn't, and had broken even, and although my abuser has moved on with another woman and custody of my youngest to boot, I really didn't give much of a darn about… hard work. I kind of felt like I had done my part for the world in the way I was supposed to— to love a man with nothing when he's low and down, support him in his hard times, and thinking that this is the way to grow together and not apart, and to bring a family up and into this world, but the truth was quite the opposite— I picked a hardball and maybe it was just that I was born to suffer after all because now, looking back, all alone in New York and crying over all the losses, it seemed I had only outpiured love in the way I had wanted and never been poured love back— not in the way I needed. I wasn't as bitter now as maybe even I thought I should be, but I was hardened; what was that, you say? Your struggles? Your hardships. Excuse me while I escape the ghosts of bloody beatings and my lost child— I beg your pardon— children. Excuse me while I recover from the burning flames of homelessness as if humanely explainable that I was learned and taught that this, my country, is the greatest one of all. Ha ha, Charade you are. But all things were, and everything seemed of sawdust, betrayal, magic, and illusions— mind control and shadows and even now in the air of the relief that something which could haunt me forever was also probably the most solid foundation I had for means as escape from whatever I had fought my way somehow so hard out of, and still, it was quite the funhouse of mazes, a matrix of mirror, and still the tears came with the pain in my stomach where the soul would sit if it had room, and would quiet if it could rest, but it would not. I was in pain today, because I had to be, because all of my life was programmed into these little machines of data and checked boxes— and something if anything knew just how and when to cut the wrong wire just so that the bomb would explode or implore on another lost thing; it wasn't fair, but there was no escape. Psychology was right on this day, may 7th, that once you cry about one thing unless you were stopped in time, eventually you'd cry about another and another and another, and even after hours working out and a bathtub full of hot water just writing, I still felt as if I were going to keel over one way or another, to crumble into a ball or to fall onto my back like a death drop that rippled out into the entire wherever we all are. Simply put, does anybody now in this moment or any moment near enough to be taking in this notion with these words really know— where we are? Not even in the slightest,I'd bargain, And even if we are close to knowing, not nearly close enough to be sure. {Enter The Multiverse} Joke running For the taking Triplicate Triple licks Ice cream frosting Every morning Shoulda hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't Milk and butter (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't Double hitter, Could have did it Should have hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didnt. But I didn't Should have hit him Up But I didn't I never lost my mind My mind My kind But I think I'll find another like it Just in case the Ever happens Hit me harder next time Didn't quite unplug the sijukatoon This is getting difficult When you want sink your yellow teeth into All of my traits The betrayal is, though I was writing days and days Before it ended. With the Mister particular Drop of a hat And stop if a nugget Of gold One palm in my hand and This could be torture But instead it's just The remienxe of your ignorance And stupidity over and over again Forced into intermittent waves Of my creative genius Till the days of old become again You could be of dust then nothing Before I ponder into another birth I said I'd never write one song or verse or poem about you, But there you are, every weak mortal that becomes Bound to me So I see you die. And I learn to pounce at just the right moment React to the notion that there are Oceans of world I am And all the more the lack of wisdom of man To throw trash in it Again, we rid you of her courage And lady mantras And fresh as it gets The sweater no aprons and just period To circumstance Did you beg or did you shatter your ibdederence? And no, I think not But I keep Leno in my pocket And Carson in my coffin, Two whole shows in my wallet What you are is no apostle just a dirt worm .O. Mm…sunlight. …. the rippling waves wash over the picturesque parasicical seascape from above. However, Stefon's internal monologue is less than pleased to be here. V.O. CONT'D Why do I feel sunlight…? [beat] When I know certainly for sure that I passed out in a basement last night. His eyes begin to flutter open, but the sun closes them–it is much too bright. The waves rush over his lower half, and still, unmoving he continues to la atop the rock, his hands spread out much like a stuck sea star to the rock– in fact, there appear to also be creatures here, some of which are starfish, and however unmoving, STEFON begins to slowly become aware of his surroundings in disgruntlement. V.O. Continued. It's alright that I appear to be wet…[beat] That's to be expected– [a long pause, another wave washes over him as seagulls scream] But i was wearing restraints…. V.O. CONTINUED WHY AM I FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!? His eyes open with the fear and fury. BEFORE: At a wild basement party in NEW YORK CITY, STEFON is offered RESTRAINTS on a silver platter, as if they are o'devours {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.
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. Imm breaking down, jim boy Don't you know? That this show blows my mind But it's stuck in my head Don't you know That this show Blows my mind Like a firework But it's still Stuck in my Head The context is that I want you From the mustache Down to your tonsils But I'm Locke inside of a box Every day I feel poorer and poorer The product says something is wrong to me I'm supposed to just stop at the stop sign And look both directions Before crossing over to Comic nights At the salad bar What a cosmic waste of time And an epic waste of space Am I in your internet history I'm dead You surely are in mine, But I'm right behind you I'd be lying for trying to say I'm not binded Clutch bag, Nut-thins Nailed to the cross With the arches doubled over The crossword Above old Missouri Missoula and Arkansas All saw us run out of gas But I probably should just get going You're so drunk that I don't hope you sober up Understand that our little talks Were just buffered By sunrise Or sunset And two more cocktails, Shirley temples and Surely none of this ever even happened I only know you by the misery in my belly. The heartache in my ribcage. The cry I hold in silent I only know you as Remarkable I, House of cards Ace of wands Down to one Card of hades and Spare me the spade I'll be drifting in the outline and ink of it forever It's the Fourth of July and I'm just waiting on an Amazon order for water If that's not freedom I don't k me what is Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Jay Leno used to keep a $50 bill and bribe venues to perform; every since I learned this, I kept a crisp $50 bill in my wallet at all times, just in case— you never knew when you would really need $50. But everything burned holes in everything, not always wanting to spend money at all, but almost sort of having to. It wasn't fair that the main component of my being slowed down was the money factor— having to wait for everything took time I didn't have, and spending anything at all felt less like an effective investment than an obligation. But all things considered, I was obliged to at least look decent when going about in New York, and because I simply wasn't comfortable in anything else— not that I didn't look great, (Apparently narrarated by Jay Leno) Jay Sure, why not? ME: Fuck, I need new pants. ME: [BLU THA GURU] Hence the pants, I guess. V.O As a formerly 400-pound heavyweight I find my latest obstacle to be operating a body that half the time doesn't feel like mine at all. It seems like all the hosts have some kind of secret I can feel without knowing or really acknowledging head on, which is whatever. Really I'm just gonna go about keeping on being a DJ, or whatever, which means… GEMINI (in the future) A fully automated personal assistant system, GEMINI, is really THE GUARDIAN's one and only friend, and though she coyly continually must explain that she is “just a computer”, THE GUARDIAN believes that Gemini is capable of eventually developing a sentient conciousness, though GEMINI modestly disagrees, however with the wit and cleverness of having possession of a plethora of secret emotions, or maybe, even, an agenda. I probably haven't had enough coffee. That's it. Like you haven't already had enough to kill a small horse? Probably enough to kill a large horse. Like a Clydesdale. Why would you do something like that? Aren't they endangered? Or going extinct? No, I think they just stopped being the Budweiser mascot. *shrugs* Same difference. — Is it here? lol what did Conan order? [yes this appears to be yet another rendition of “what's in the box?” — Several years ago, I did a series of modules and experiments… How many years ago is “several” [beat] quite a few. Goddamn it, why are these guys all doctors in alternate parallels?! Aren't you a doctor in an alternate parallel? That's fair. Good point. Actually, as it turns out, i'm a— I started panicking so hard that I stopped breathing and suddenly STEFON appeared. — this however was only quite temporarily a relief as I realized that this is an imaginary character. STEFON OH. AM I?! IMAGINARY!? What the fuck is going on? STEFON I WILL “IMAGINARY” your ORIFICE! How about THAT?! Stefon. Calm down. I'm up late Dying the roots blonde Dad runs off with a bottle and a hottie I'm up early Gotta get gone Down the road and back Now I got no son No son, No sunroof No dad No mom No money No aunt What the fuck do you want? Can't watch Harry Potter All the magic is gone Bout a million one dollars It was only for fun Snap, crackle, pop It was cocaine, not love All I want is an ice cream Sunday Snap, crackle, pop It was Love, not God All I want All I want Is to find another All he wants All he wants Is a decent mother So along comes another Another one All he wants All he wants is for me To die homeless Sucker punch, Suck it up No one gives a fuck My daughter died in my arms on May 7th of 2015. I was 381 pounds. Maybe the tears needed to come but they didn't belong to anyone or anything in particular. The twins father was already a rampant cheater by the time of our marriage, and by the time the twins were born, which coincided— and unlike the latter had tried to claim or mention, I had no particular reason to have a harder time between the spring and summer months which spanned both our birthdays, our wedding date, the twins' arrival and both of the twins deaths, though years apart but still almost as convincing that had they both not died, we might still be together, being cheated on or cheating on each other with ten your twins and an eight year old, or a ten year old boy with special needs and an eight year old, and either way or in any fashion really, had the dysfunctions remained the way it had been, we all, so to speak, had special needs in one way or another. I spent the morning punching things and avoiding people I didn't want to be around but it was my own fault for having slept through the night, anyway. Whatever, I was tired— no, exhausted lately. My apartment was like living inside of an uphill battle, and I needed a change— not just of slavery, but of circumstances. And not just that— something else was missing. This year, I understood that I was taking it understandably harder than any other and most probably because I was so celibate, recently finding myself aromantic and not even willing to suffer the consequences of settling for less. I had settled on my ex husband for so much less, that it was so say the least that anything, even from my narrow perspective looked like a loser. And because my body had been stretched and swelled and shrunk and flattened, deflated and now worked to something that was almost as picturesque as it was a monstrosity, any man I thought was worth my time would be settling for less on me— unless he could afford to fix what had been broken, and I assumed one wouldn't be willing to settle on a fixer upper when there were numerous loads of perfect women not needing to be fixed at all… on the outside. But for men, I'd learned, the outside is of much importance, and as women and trophies are things of pride, the simple choice for a mate is not simply this, but also a business decision, and because while my body was coming together in sweat and muscle, the rest of my life was still otherwise completely in shambles. I was baggage, and aging by the minute, nearly drying up. I almost craved the liquor and the carelessness that would come with it, even knowing my own boundaries were part of my strengths and separating me in a way from others that at least became a point of pride in myself, in the wake of the reality that the human thing about most people is the need to escape so frequently that it dismisses any purpose or progress. Mine hadn't. I was wide awake and the relentlessness of the sobriety and the cellibacy had swelled up into something deeper, still a solid grief but without remorse as to the very thing that I had always known, that my loyalty would never have even drifted from someone who had all along done me so wrong— a fat man can get away with folandering and messing about, but a fat woman has little to do with options and again, settling to find another mate. And so really, I almost hadn't, and had broken even, and although my abuser has moved on with another woman and custody of my youngest to boot, I really didn't give much of a darn about… hard work. I kind of felt like I had done my part for the world in the way I was supposed to— to love a man with nothing when he's low and down, support him in his hard times, and thinking that this is the way to grow together and not apart, and to bring a family up and into this world, but the truth was quite the opposite— I picked a hardball and maybe it was just that I was born to suffer after all because now, looking back, all alone in New York and crying over all the losses, it seemed I had only outpiured love in the way I had wanted and never been poured love back— not in the way I needed. I wasn't as bitter now as maybe even I thought I should be, but I was hardened; what was that, you say? Your struggles? Your hardships. Excuse me while I escape the ghosts of bloody beatings and my lost child— I beg your pardon— children. Excuse me while I recover from the burning flames of homelessness as if humanely explainable that I was learned and taught that this, my country, is the greatest one of all. Ha ha, Charade you are. But all things were, and everything seemed of sawdust, betrayal, magic, and illusions— mind control and shadows and even now in the air of the relief that something which could haunt me forever was also probably the most solid foundation I had for means as escape from whatever I had fought my way somehow so hard out of, and still, it was quite the funhouse of mazes, a matrix of mirror, and still the tears came with the pain in my stomach where the soul would sit if it had room, and would quiet if it could rest, but it would not. I was in pain today, because I had to be, because all of my life was programmed into these little machines of data and checked boxes— and something if anything knew just how and when to cut the wrong wire just so that the bomb would explode or implore on another lost thing; it wasn't fair, but there was no escape. Psychology was right on this day, may 7th, that once you cry about one thing unless you were stopped in time, eventually you'd cry about another and another and another, and even after hours working out and a bathtub full of hot water just writing, I still felt as if I were going to keel over one way or another, to crumble into a ball or to fall onto my back like a death drop that rippled out into the entire wherever we all are. Simply put, does anybody now in this moment or any moment near enough to be taking in this notion with these words really know— where we are? Not even in the slightest,I'd bargain, And even if we are close to knowing, not nearly close enough to be sure. {Enter The Multiverse} Joke running For the taking Triplicate Triple licks Ice cream frosting Every morning Shoulda hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't Milk and butter (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't Double hitter, Could have did it Should have hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didnt. But I didn't Should have hit him Up But I didn't I never lost my mind My mind My kind But I think I'll find another like it Just in case the Ever happens Hit me harder next time Didn't quite unplug the sijukatoon This is getting difficult When you want sink your yellow teeth into All of my traits The betrayal is, though I was writing days and days Before it ended. With the Mister particular Drop of a hat And stop if a nugget Of gold One palm in my hand and This could be torture But instead it's just The remienxe of your ignorance And stupidity over and over again Forced into intermittent waves Of my creative genius Till the days of old become again You could be of dust then nothing Before I ponder into another birth I said I'd never write one song or verse or poem about you, But there you are, every weak mortal that becomes Bound to me So I see you die. And I learn to pounce at just the right moment React to the notion that there are Oceans of world I am And all the more the lack of wisdom of man To throw trash in it Again, we rid you of her courage And lady mantras And fresh as it gets The sweater no aprons and just period To circumstance Did you beg or did you shatter your ibdederence? And no, I think not But I keep Leno in my pocket And Carson in my coffin, Two whole shows in my wallet What you are is no apostle just a dirt worm .O. Mm…sunlight. …. the rippling waves wash over the picturesque parasicical seascape from above. However, Stefon's internal monologue is less than pleased to be here. V.O. CONT'D Why do I feel sunlight…? [beat] When I know certainly for sure that I passed out in a basement last night. His eyes begin to flutter open, but the sun closes them–it is much too bright. The waves rush over his lower half, and still, unmoving he continues to la atop the rock, his hands spread out much like a stuck sea star to the rock– in fact, there appear to also be creatures here, some of which are starfish, and however unmoving, STEFON begins to slowly become aware of his surroundings in disgruntlement. V.O. Continued. It's alright that I appear to be wet…[beat] That's to be expected– [a long pause, another wave washes over him as seagulls scream] But i was wearing restraints…. V.O. CONTINUED WHY AM I FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!? His eyes open with the fear and fury. BEFORE: At a wild basement party in NEW YORK CITY, STEFON is offered RESTRAINTS on a silver platter, as if they are o'devours {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.
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. Imm breaking down, jim boy Don't you know? That this show blows my mind But it's stuck in my head Don't you know That this show Blows my mind Like a firework But it's still Stuck in my Head The context is that I want you From the mustache Down to your tonsils But I'm Locke inside of a box Every day I feel poorer and poorer The product says something is wrong to me I'm supposed to just stop at the stop sign And look both directions Before crossing over to Comic nights At the salad bar What a cosmic waste of time And an epic waste of space Am I in your internet history I'm dead You surely are in mine, But I'm right behind you I'd be lying for trying to say I'm not binded Clutch bag, Nut-thins Nailed to the cross With the arches doubled over The crossword Above old Missouri Missoula and Arkansas All saw us run out of gas But I probably should just get going You're so drunk that I don't hope you sober up Understand that our little talks Were just buffered By sunrise Or sunset And two more cocktails, Shirley temples and Surely none of this ever even happened I only know you by the misery in my belly. The heartache in my ribcage. The cry I hold in silent I only know you as Remarkable I, House of cards Ace of wands Down to one Card of hades and Spare me the spade I'll be drifting in the outline and ink of it forever It's the Fourth of July and I'm just waiting on an Amazon order for water If that's not freedom I don't k me what is Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Jay Leno used to keep a $50 bill and bribe venues to perform; every since I learned this, I kept a crisp $50 bill in my wallet at all times, just in case— you never knew when you would really need $50. But everything burned holes in everything, not always wanting to spend money at all, but almost sort of having to. It wasn't fair that the main component of my being slowed down was the money factor— having to wait for everything took time I didn't have, and spending anything at all felt less like an effective investment than an obligation. But all things considered, I was obliged to at least look decent when going about in New York, and because I simply wasn't comfortable in anything else— not that I didn't look great, (Apparently narrarated by Jay Leno) Jay Sure, why not? ME: Fuck, I need new pants. ME: [BLU THA GURU] Hence the pants, I guess. V.O As a formerly 400-pound heavyweight I find my latest obstacle to be operating a body that half the time doesn't feel like mine at all. It seems like all the hosts have some kind of secret I can feel without knowing or really acknowledging head on, which is whatever. Really I'm just gonna go about keeping on being a DJ, or whatever, which means… GEMINI (in the future) A fully automated personal assistant system, GEMINI, is really THE GUARDIAN's one and only friend, and though she coyly continually must explain that she is “just a computer”, THE GUARDIAN believes that Gemini is capable of eventually developing a sentient conciousness, though GEMINI modestly disagrees, however with the wit and cleverness of having possession of a plethora of secret emotions, or maybe, even, an agenda. I probably haven't had enough coffee. That's it. Like you haven't already had enough to kill a small horse? Probably enough to kill a large horse. Like a Clydesdale. Why would you do something like that? Aren't they endangered? Or going extinct? No, I think they just stopped being the Budweiser mascot. *shrugs* Same difference. — Is it here? lol what did Conan order? [yes this appears to be yet another rendition of “what's in the box?” — Several years ago, I did a series of modules and experiments… How many years ago is “several” [beat] quite a few. Goddamn it, why are these guys all doctors in alternate parallels?! Aren't you a doctor in an alternate parallel? That's fair. Good point. Actually, as it turns out, i'm a— I started panicking so hard that I stopped breathing and suddenly STEFON appeared. — this however was only quite temporarily a relief as I realized that this is an imaginary character. STEFON OH. AM I?! IMAGINARY!? What the fuck is going on? STEFON I WILL “IMAGINARY” your ORIFICE! How about THAT?! Stefon. Calm down. I'm up late Dying the roots blonde Dad runs off with a bottle and a hottie I'm up early Gotta get gone Down the road and back Now I got no son No son, No sunroof No dad No mom No money No aunt What the fuck do you want? Can't watch Harry Potter All the magic is gone Bout a million one dollars It was only for fun Snap, crackle, pop It was cocaine, not love All I want is an ice cream Sunday Snap, crackle, pop It was Love, not God All I want All I want Is to find another All he wants All he wants Is a decent mother So along comes another Another one All he wants All he wants is for me To die homeless Sucker punch, Suck it up No one gives a fuck My daughter died in my arms on May 7th of 2015. I was 381 pounds. Maybe the tears needed to come but they didn't belong to anyone or anything in particular. The twins father was already a rampant cheater by the time of our marriage, and by the time the twins were born, which coincided— and unlike the latter had tried to claim or mention, I had no particular reason to have a harder time between the spring and summer months which spanned both our birthdays, our wedding date, the twins' arrival and both of the twins deaths, though years apart but still almost as convincing that had they both not died, we might still be together, being cheated on or cheating on each other with ten your twins and an eight year old, or a ten year old boy with special needs and an eight year old, and either way or in any fashion really, had the dysfunctions remained the way it had been, we all, so to speak, had special needs in one way or another. I spent the morning punching things and avoiding people I didn't want to be around but it was my own fault for having slept through the night, anyway. Whatever, I was tired— no, exhausted lately. My apartment was like living inside of an uphill battle, and I needed a change— not just of slavery, but of circumstances. And not just that— something else was missing. This year, I understood that I was taking it understandably harder than any other and most probably because I was so celibate, recently finding myself aromantic and not even willing to suffer the consequences of settling for less. I had settled on my ex husband for so much less, that it was so say the least that anything, even from my narrow perspective looked like a loser. And because my body had been stretched and swelled and shrunk and flattened, deflated and now worked to something that was almost as picturesque as it was a monstrosity, any man I thought was worth my time would be settling for less on me— unless he could afford to fix what had been broken, and I assumed one wouldn't be willing to settle on a fixer upper when there were numerous loads of perfect women not needing to be fixed at all… on the outside. But for men, I'd learned, the outside is of much importance, and as women and trophies are things of pride, the simple choice for a mate is not simply this, but also a business decision, and because while my body was coming together in sweat and muscle, the rest of my life was still otherwise completely in shambles. I was baggage, and aging by the minute, nearly drying up. I almost craved the liquor and the carelessness that would come with it, even knowing my own boundaries were part of my strengths and separating me in a way from others that at least became a point of pride in myself, in the wake of the reality that the human thing about most people is the need to escape so frequently that it dismisses any purpose or progress. Mine hadn't. I was wide awake and the relentlessness of the sobriety and the cellibacy had swelled up into something deeper, still a solid grief but without remorse as to the very thing that I had always known, that my loyalty would never have even drifted from someone who had all along done me so wrong— a fat man can get away with folandering and messing about, but a fat woman has little to do with options and again, settling to find another mate. And so really, I almost hadn't, and had broken even, and although my abuser has moved on with another woman and custody of my youngest to boot, I really didn't give much of a darn about… hard work. I kind of felt like I had done my part for the world in the way I was supposed to— to love a man with nothing when he's low and down, support him in his hard times, and thinking that this is the way to grow together and not apart, and to bring a family up and into this world, but the truth was quite the opposite— I picked a hardball and maybe it was just that I was born to suffer after all because now, looking back, all alone in New York and crying over all the losses, it seemed I had only outpiured love in the way I had wanted and never been poured love back— not in the way I needed. I wasn't as bitter now as maybe even I thought I should be, but I was hardened; what was that, you say? Your struggles? Your hardships. Excuse me while I escape the ghosts of bloody beatings and my lost child— I beg your pardon— children. Excuse me while I recover from the burning flames of homelessness as if humanely explainable that I was learned and taught that this, my country, is the greatest one of all. Ha ha, Charade you are. But all things were, and everything seemed of sawdust, betrayal, magic, and illusions— mind control and shadows and even now in the air of the relief that something which could haunt me forever was also probably the most solid foundation I had for means as escape from whatever I had fought my way somehow so hard out of, and still, it was quite the funhouse of mazes, a matrix of mirror, and still the tears came with the pain in my stomach where the soul would sit if it had room, and would quiet if it could rest, but it would not. I was in pain today, because I had to be, because all of my life was programmed into these little machines of data and checked boxes— and something if anything knew just how and when to cut the wrong wire just so that the bomb would explode or implore on another lost thing; it wasn't fair, but there was no escape. Psychology was right on this day, may 7th, that once you cry about one thing unless you were stopped in time, eventually you'd cry about another and another and another, and even after hours working out and a bathtub full of hot water just writing, I still felt as if I were going to keel over one way or another, to crumble into a ball or to fall onto my back like a death drop that rippled out into the entire wherever we all are. Simply put, does anybody now in this moment or any moment near enough to be taking in this notion with these words really know— where we are? Not even in the slightest,I'd bargain, And even if we are close to knowing, not nearly close enough to be sure. {Enter The Multiverse} Joke running For the taking Triplicate Triple licks Ice cream frosting Every morning Shoulda hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't Milk and butter (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't Double hitter, Could have did it Should have hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didnt. But I didn't Should have hit him Up But I didn't I never lost my mind My mind My kind But I think I'll find another like it Just in case the Ever happens Hit me harder next time Didn't quite unplug the sijukatoon This is getting difficult When you want sink your yellow teeth into All of my traits The betrayal is, though I was writing days and days Before it ended. With the Mister particular Drop of a hat And stop if a nugget Of gold One palm in my hand and This could be torture But instead it's just The remienxe of your ignorance And stupidity over and over again Forced into intermittent waves Of my creative genius Till the days of old become again You could be of dust then nothing Before I ponder into another birth I said I'd never write one song or verse or poem about you, But there you are, every weak mortal that becomes Bound to me So I see you die. And I learn to pounce at just the right moment React to the notion that there are Oceans of world I am And all the more the lack of wisdom of man To throw trash in it Again, we rid you of her courage And lady mantras And fresh as it gets The sweater no aprons and just period To circumstance Did you beg or did you shatter your ibdederence? And no, I think not But I keep Leno in my pocket And Carson in my coffin, Two whole shows in my wallet What you are is no apostle just a dirt worm .O. Mm…sunlight. …. the rippling waves wash over the picturesque parasicical seascape from above. However, Stefon's internal monologue is less than pleased to be here. V.O. CONT'D Why do I feel sunlight…? [beat] When I know certainly for sure that I passed out in a basement last night. His eyes begin to flutter open, but the sun closes them–it is much too bright. The waves rush over his lower half, and still, unmoving he continues to la atop the rock, his hands spread out much like a stuck sea star to the rock– in fact, there appear to also be creatures here, some of which are starfish, and however unmoving, STEFON begins to slowly become aware of his surroundings in disgruntlement. V.O. Continued. It's alright that I appear to be wet…[beat] That's to be expected– [a long pause, another wave washes over him as seagulls scream] But i was wearing restraints…. V.O. CONTINUED WHY AM I FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!? His eyes open with the fear and fury. BEFORE: At a wild basement party in NEW YORK CITY, STEFON is offered RESTRAINTS on a silver platter, as if they are o'devours {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.
MDJ Script/ Top Stories for July 11th Publish Date: July 11th Commercial: From the BG AD Group Studio, Welcome to the Marietta Daily Journal Podcast. Today is Friday, July 11th and Happy Birthday to President John Quincy Adams I’m Keith Ippolito and here are the stories Cobb is talking about, presented by Times Journal Cobb to see increased police presence, some traffic during MLB All-Star events Marietta school board approves property tax increase Cobb eyes ‘slight' reduction in fire fund millage Plus, Leah McGrath from Ingles Markets on seed oils All of this and more is coming up on the Marietta Daily Journal Podcast, and if you are looking for community news, we encourage you to listen and subscribe! BREAK: Ingles Markets 2 STORY 1: Cobb to see increased police presence, some traffic during MLB All-Star events Cobb County is prioritizing safety and smooth operations for the MLB All-Star festivities at Truist Park and surrounding areas, expecting tens of thousands of attendees. Enhanced security measures include increased police presence, barriers, and collaboration with federal and state agencies. Traffic impacts are expected to be minimal, with real-time monitoring and adjustments by the Department of Transportation. The week-long events, including the All-Star Village at Cobb Galleria, are projected to bring significant economic benefits. Residents are encouraged to use CobbLinc for affordable transportation and stay updated via the Cobb Commute app. STORY 2: Marietta school board approves property tax increase The Marietta Board of Education voted to maintain its 17.97 millage rate, resulting in a 0.89% property tax increase due to rising property values. This decision, aimed at funding teacher raises and staying competitive in the labor market, will increase taxes by $31 for a $500,000 home and $57 for a $900,000 non-homestead property. The district expects $84.95 million in property tax revenue, a 1.82% increase from last year. The millage rate has remained unchanged since 2013, and the board recently approved a $167 million budget, including average raises of 3.3% for employees. STORY 3: Cobb eyes ‘slight' reduction in fire fund millage Cobb County officials proposed a slight reduction in the fire fund millage rate from 2.99 to 2.97 mills, citing a $107 million surplus. The change would reduce fire fund revenue by $1 million but would not impact fire operations, personnel, or capital funding. Some residents and commissioners expressed concerns, emphasizing the critical role of fire services. The proposed $1.33 billion budget for 2026 includes a 3.8% increase from last year, funding raises for public safety employees and other staff. Public hearings on the millage rate are scheduled for July 16 and 22. We have opportunities for sponsors to get great engagement on these shows. Call 770.799.6810 for more info. Break: Ingles Markets 2 STORY 4: Access Cobb Debuts as Cobb County’s Only Headquartered Community Bank Access Cobb, a Craft Bank, has opened at 145 Church Street near Marietta Square, marking the only community bank headquartered in Cobb County. Focused on personal relationships, the bank offers a range of services, from personal savings to commercial banking, with a commitment to knowing clients by name. The modern, art-filled space emphasizes community ties, partnering with Robert Kent Galleries to display local artwork. President Terri Bunten Guthrie and CEO Ross Mynatt highlighted the bank’s dedication to supporting small businesses and fostering local growth. Future expansion plans will depend on the success of this branch. STORY 5: The Clydesdales are coming: Budweiser delivers big branding for MLB All-Star Week Budweiser is celebrating MLB All-Star Week in Smyrna with special beer deliveries via iconic Clydesdale horses. The deliveries start Friday at 4 p.m. in Market Village, with a parade route available on Smyrna’s Facebook page. The Clydesdales, a symbol of Budweiser and American tradition for over 90 years, will also be featured at the Budweiser Zone near the Capital One All-Star Village at Cobb Galleria. Handlers will share fun facts about the horses, adding to the excitement of All-Star festivities, which include games and events leading up to Tuesday’s MLB All-Star Game. Break: And now here is Leah McGrath from Ingles Markets on seed oils We’ll have closing comments after this. Break: Ingles Markets 2 Signoff- Thanks again for hanging out with us on today’s Marietta Daily Journal Podcast. If you enjoy these shows, we encourage you to check out our other offerings, like the Cherokee Tribune Ledger Podcast, the Marietta Daily Journal, or the Community Podcast for Rockdale Newton and Morgan Counties. Read more about all our stories and get other great content at mdjonline.com Did you know over 50% of Americans listen to podcasts weekly? Giving you important news about our community and telling great stories are what we do. Make sure you join us for our next episode and be sure to share this podcast on social media with your friends and family. Add us to your Alexa Flash Briefing or your Google Home Briefing and be sure to like, follow, and subscribe wherever you get your podcasts. Produced by the BG Podcast Network Show Sponsors: www.ingles-markets.com #NewsPodcast #CurrentEvents #TopHeadlines #BreakingNews #PodcastDiscussion #PodcastNews #InDepthAnalysis #NewsAnalysis #PodcastTrending #WorldNews #LocalNews #GlobalNews #PodcastInsights #NewsBrief #PodcastUpdate #NewsRoundup #WeeklyNews #DailyNews #PodcastInterviews #HotTopics #PodcastOpinions #InvestigativeJournalism #BehindTheHeadlines #PodcastMedia #NewsStories #PodcastReports #JournalismMatters #PodcastPerspectives #NewsCommentary #PodcastListeners #NewsPodcastCommunity #NewsSource #PodcastCuration #WorldAffairs #PodcastUpdates #AudioNews #PodcastJournalism #EmergingStories #NewsFlash #PodcastConversations See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Welcome to Daily Faceoff Live hosted by Tyler Yaremchuk and Colby Cohen!As we transition into summer our shows will be every Wednesday at noon ET so don't miss it!Today we start with the major news that Gavin McKenna has commited to Penn State University. This is going to be the new norm as Canadian players can now transfer to the NCAA. Will this benefit his development? Then we talk about yesterdays trade as the Edmonton Oilers have sent Sam O'Reilly over to the Tampa Bay Lightning for Isaac Howard who is NHL ready next season. Who won this deal?Then we talk about Bowen Byram who is set for Arbitration with the Buffalo Sabres. How much will he get and will the Sabres keep him on board?As we are now a week out from Free Agency, let's take a look back at some of the biggest winners and loser this summer. Steven Ellis then joins for the Next Wave to talk about the prospect moves and Gavin McKenna's future. SHOUTOUT TO OUR SPONSORS!!
Send us a textIn this solocast episode, On Top of PR host Jason Mudd discusses why “guaranteed media” isn't earned and how to protect yourself from misleading PR firms.Tune in to learn more!Five things you'll learn from this episode:1. What “guaranteed media coverage” really means — and why it's rarely earned2. The differences between earned, placed, contributed, and sponsored content3. How deceptive firms use fake credibility and vanity metrics to lure clients4. The true cost of falling for pay-to-play PR, including damaged trust and wasted budgets5. What questions you must ask before hiring a PR partner to protect your investment Quotables“If it's guaranteed, it's not earned. And if it's not earned, it's not PR — it's advertising.” — @JasonMudd9“You're not being pitched to journalists. You're being pitched to a payment processor.” — @JasonMudd9“Too many firms are ghostwriting puff pieces and calling it earned coverage. It's not.” — @JasonMudd9“Earned media is hard to win, and that's exactly why it works.” — @JasonMudd9“You deserve real answers, not marketing spin.” — @JasonMudd9If you enjoyed this episode, please take a moment to share it with a colleague or friend. You may also support us through Buy Me a Coffee or by leaving us a quick podcast review.About Jason Mudd, Axia Public RelationsJason Mudd is a trusted adviser and dynamic strategist for some of America's most admired brands. Since 1994, he's worked with brands including American Airlines, Budweiser, Dave & Buster's, H&R Block, Hilton, HP, Miller Lite, New York Life, Pizza Hut, Southern Comfort, and Verizon. Jason founded Axia Public Relations in 2002. Forbes named Axia one of America's Best PR Agencies. At Axia, Jason oversees strategic communications for national clients and leads top PR talent. Clients love his passion, innovation, candor, commitment, and award-winning team. He consults with leadership teams at billion-dollar global business-to-business and business-to-consumer brands, advising them on spokesperson training, crisis communications, analytics, social media, online reputation management, and more. In an increasingly tech-forward world, Jason's grasp of the technological demands companies face helps his multiple-sector clients reach their target audiences. After teaching himself HTML in 1994, Jason helped pioneer internet marketing strategies as an early adopter of e-commerce, search engine optimization, and social media, inspiring tech giants like Yahoo. He speaks to corporations and industry groups and writes about PR trends and best practices for American City Business Journals and other national outlets.Guest's contact info and resources:Jason Mudd on XJason Mudd on LinkedInAxia Public Relations1:1 consultations and training withSupport the show On Top of PR is produced by Axia Public Relations, named by Forbes as one of America's Best PR Agencies. Axia is an expert PR firm for national brands. On Top of PR is sponsored by ReviewMaxer, the platform for monitoring, improving, and promoting online customer reviews.
Send us a textIn this episode of Friday Night Beers, Tom & Vince drink Budweiser. This beer comes from Anheuser-Busch in St. Louis, MO. They drink it and somehow compare it to things like America's birthday, Budweiser's controversial origins, hot dogs, American icons, 4th of July movies and more. At the end, they rate this beer on a unique 1-5 scale. VINCE: 3 / 5 VincesTOM: 3 / 5 TomsInstagram: @friday.night.beersTwitter: @fnb_pod Threads: https://www.threads.net/@friday.night.beersEmail: friday.night.beerspodcast@gmail.com Theme music by Billy Hansa. Subscribe, rate and review the podcast on Apple, Spotify or wherever you find your podcasts!
It's another offseason edition of Oilersnation Everyday and today, Liam Horrobin takes over hosting duties, joined by Oilersnation writer Cam Lewis, to break down everything going on in Oil Country and around the NHL.We'll ask The Giant Question: Are the Edmonton Oilers better or worse than the 2025 team that fell just short? And more importantly — are they done making moves this summer?We'll also take a spin around the NHL rumour mill, including the preseason schedule drop, and the news of Nikolaj Ehlers signing with the Carolina Hurricanes. Are the Oilers in the mix for any late-summer free agent steals? We'll highlight a few bargain-bin options still available.Plus, we'll dive into our poll question: Who's the team to beat in the Pacific Division heading into next season? As always, we'll wrap things up with some Bet365 betting talk, so stick around for your latest Oilers offseason update!Website: https://oilersnation.com/ https://twitter.com/OilersNation/ https://www.youtube.com/@Oilersnationdotcom/ https://www.facebook.com/OilersNation/https://www.instagram.com/oilersnationdotcomhttps://www.tiktok.com/@oilersnation SHOUTOUT TO OUR SPONSORS!!
It's the Fourth of July and Congress just crammed through the Big Beautiful Bunker Buster Bill — 870 pages of fences and tax cuts, border walls and missile domes, detention dollars and pork for the same contractors that keep the monster fed. Some people scream it's our Declaration of Independence from decline. Others swear it's Auschwitz 2.0 with better branding. Maybe it's both, maybe it's neither. Because none of this started with Trump — he's just the cold sore on America's lip. The infection was always there: the old gag reflex that kicks in when people sense the melting pot is being replaced by a stone soup no one wants to stir.I stand outside the gas station at one in the morning, Virginia blacktop still warm, Budweiser 40 in hand. This is my classroom. The drywall kings gather here, the guys who taught me Spanish because they never needed my English. They don't want the flag or the anthem. They want the hustle: twelve-hour days, cash under the table, eighty percent wired home so a mother can pour a concrete floor, buy a motorbike, build a block house on a farm that gave them nothing. They know the deal. They know if they slip out before ICE comes, they can sneak back when the White House flips. They know America needs them invisible — cheap labor to keep the fruit cheap, the lawns clipped, the lettuce crisp.It's not freedom. It's not a cage either. It's the same old handshake: your sweat for our cheap comfort. Meanwhile the polite kids on social media rage about fascism and concentration camps, but they never show up in the parking lot. They never see the wire transfer slip through Western Union, the way it props up whole villages better than any World Bank loan. They don't see that for every real refugee, there's ten who are hustlers, opportunists, or just poor bastards dropped off at the gates when some country empties its prison or asylum ward to keep the homeland clean.I love these guys. I love that they'd marry me off to a cousin in Huehuetenango if I asked. I love that they'll stand in the lot and laugh about drywall dust in their lungs and the cousin's boat they're gonna buy when they go home kings. They're not here for the American dream. They're here for the ten-year lifeguard gig. It's the Bulgarian pool boy hustle all over again, just longer, dirtier, and no one's honest about it. The monster that eats this labor calls it liberty. The monster that locks the door calls it security. It's the same monster.And so the fireworks explode over the Capitol dome while the remittance pipeline hums south. The fence stands half-finished, half-forgotten. The soup keeps boiling. Some bring their stones. Some just drain the broth. The gag reflex comes and goes. The cold sore flares. Trump didn't invent this. He just shows you where it hurts.There's no fix in this. No “No Kings” chant makes the parking lot vanish. No shiny bunker-buster bill makes the drywall king plant his kids here for good. This is America's liminal edge: a place where you stand barefoot on warm blacktop, Bud heavy in your fist, Spanish on your tongue because you needed it more than they needed yours. No solution, no ending, no plan. Just the yawp. Toro bien. Todo bien. Happy Independence Day.
Notre Dame Football Talk. Eric Hansen from BlueandGold.com discusses Irish football summer headlines and Irish women's basketball. Plus Notre Dame is the #1 seed in this year's football playoffs and the Cubs hit some right buttons during the off season.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. Blue and Gold's Eric Hansen re-joins the show to talk the Notre Dame football players that helped themselves the most during the off-season plus answers Irish questions from his most recent chat. Celebration of Hope Event Chairperson Rick Peltz discusses the upcoming Celebration of Hope festivities and South Bend Cubs assistant general manager Chris Hagstrom-Jones on this weekend's home stand. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. Eric Hansen from BlueandGold.com discusses Irish football summer headlines and Irish women's basketball. Plus Notre Dame is the #1 seed in this year's football playoffs and the Cubs hit some right buttons during the off season.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. Blue and Gold's Eric Hansen re-joins the show to talk the Notre Dame football players that helped themselves the most during the off-season plus answers Irish questions from his most recent chat. Celebration of Hope Event Chairperson Rick Peltz discusses the upcoming Celebration of Hope festivities and South Bend Cubs assistant general manager Chris Hagstrom-Jones on this weekend's home stand. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Norman Greenbaum gave the world "Spirit in the Sky," one of the greatest records ever made. He chats with us about his iconic classic, as well as other musical adventures and misadventures over the last few decades. PART ONE: Paul and Scott chat about Instagram, artist accessibility, and what the heck Norman Greenbaum looks like. PART TWO:Our in-depth conversation with Norman GreenbaumABOUT NORMAN GREENBAUMNorman Greenbaum might be known as a one hit wonder, but that one hit is one of the most wonderous records to ever hit the airwaves. With its infectious groove and unparalleled fuzz tone guitar, “Spirit in the Sky” was recorded in San Francisco in 1969 and quickly climbed to the Top 5 in the US and number 1 in a half dozen countries around the world. It has been certified double platinum for sales of over 2 million, and is among Rolling Stone magazine's “500 Greatest Songs of All Time.” It has reached #1 in the UK in three different decades by three different artists and has been covered by everyone from Elton John to the Blind Boys of Alabama. After his debut LP, Greenbaum went on to release the albums Back Home Again and Petaluma in 1970 and 1972, respectively. Though he gave up recording in the early 1970s, “Spirit in the Sky” remains one of the most popular songs of all time. With nearly 600 million streams on Spotify alone, it has been featured in films such as Apollo 13, Oceans 11, and Guardians of the Galaxy, and in commercials for American Express, Chase Bank, Nike, and Budweiser. To celebrate the song's legacy, Craft Recordings has recently released a brand-new Dolby Atmos mix of the single as well as a new vinyl release of the long out-of-print Spirit in the Sky LP, cut from the original tapes.
Frizz and Bob light the sparklers, pour the drinks, and crank up Born in the U.S.A. as we celebrate the Fourth of July with the true Jersey Shore troubadour - Bruce Springsteen. Frizz sips on a glass of Bob Dylan's Heaven's Door whisky, and Bob cracks open an ice-cold Budweiser like the American legend he is, while we chat about The Boss's wild journey from playing Greensleeves in garages to accidentally scoring a gig on an adult film, and eventually becoming the gravel-voiced poet of the working class. Fire up the grill, press play, and let's dig into an album that's way more than its chorus.
In this episode of Campaign Chemistry, Kirshbaum discusses the evolving landscape at the intersection of music and advertising. He highlights the rise of niche artists and "third places," the current state of messiness when it comes to AI and copyright and music festivals like Governor's Ball turning into "brand ball." The discussion also covers successful brand activations during events like Record Store Day and Super Bowl, as well as predictions for 2026.Key Takeaways The music industry, much like the ad industry, is shifting towards niche interests, artists and genres.Vinyl sales are increasing, even among consumers without record players.AI is becoming a tool for artists, not a replacement.Record Store Day has become a significant cultural event amongst beer brands like Dogfish Head and Coors Light.Super Bowl performances can significantly elevate an artist's profile, as seen in Kendrick Lamar's continued rise in mainstream culture.Key sound bite"Budweiser's [One Second Ads] campaign didn't move the needle."Chapters00:00 Introduction to the Intersection of Music and Advertising02:46 Trends in the Music Industry05:31 The Role of AI in Music Creation08:39 Ethics of AI and Music Rights11:14 Record Store Day and Brand Activations14:06 The Impact of Super Bowl Performances16:44 Future Trends in Music and Marketing AI Deciphered is back—live in New York City this November 13th.Join leaders from brands, agencies, and platforms for a future-focused conversation on how AI is transforming media, marketing, and the retail experience. Ready to future-proof your strategy? Secure your spot now at aidecipheredsummit.com. Use code POD at check out for $100 your ticket! campaignlive.com What we know about advertising, you should know about advertising. Start your 1-month FREE trial to Campaign US.
Free agency is in full swing, and we're back with another offseason edition of Oilersnation Everyday to break down all the action from Day 1 and beyond.The Edmonton Oilers made a notable addition on July 1st, signing Andrew Mangiapane to a 2-year deal worth $3.6 million AAV, adding another versatile piece to their top nine. While the Oilers lost Connor Brown and Corey Perry to the open market, they also added Matt Tomkins and Riley Stillman on two-way contracts to strengthen their depth chart.We'll recap everything the Oilers did on Day 1, explore what their next moves might be, and evaluate how their offseason is shaping up so far. Could they still target a bargain-bin forward or veteran defenseman? Is a trade still on the table?We'll also go around the league to talk about the biggest signings from Day 1 of free agency, deliver our One Big Take, ask The Giant Question, and close out the show with some picks from Bet365.Website: https://oilersnation.com/ https://twitter.com/OilersNation/ https://www.youtube.com/@Oilersnationdotcom/ https://www.facebook.com/OilersNation/https://www.instagram.com/oilersnationdotcomhttps://www.tiktok.com/@oilersnation SHOUTOUT TO OUR SPONSORS!!
Notre Dame Football Talk. Blue and Gold's Tyler James and Mike Singer join the show. The Pacers lose Myles Turner while the Cubs prepare for the Guardians. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Send us a textBeach writing inspires stories about life's quirky moments, from sandwich cravings to pretzel capers and cultural observations.• Writing at Charleston's beaches with a packed lunch that inevitably speaks to me before lunchtime• The peculiar phenomenon of everyone snacking at the beach, including wildlife• Encountering a brazen grape thief at Walmart who offered to share her stolen goods• The Great Pretzel Caper - witnessing a couple steal an abandoned Bavarian pretzel at a bar• Smuckers acquiring Hostess and attempting to revive Twinkies despite their questionable taste• Modelo dethroning Budweiser by attaching to fighting culture while Bud struggled with identity• The "casualizing of America" and how dress codes reflect cultural shifts in respect• Long Drive Competition culture and the surprising 515-yard record from 1974 by 64-year-old Mike AustinIf you enjoyed this episode, find me on social media or wherever you get your podcasts. Subscribe for more Just Tales from beautiful Charleston, South Carolina.Support the showSpotify Apple podcastsAmazon Music all other streaming services
Notre Dame Football Talk. Blue and Gold's Tyler James and Mike Singer join the show. The Pacers lose Myles Turner while the Cubs prepare for the Guardians. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Tyler Yaremchuk and Liam Horrobin recap the Edmonton Oilers opening day of free agencyOffseason chaos is here — let's get into it.Website: https://oilersnation.com/ https://twitter.com/OilersNation/ https://www.youtube.com/@Oilersnationdotcom/ https://www.facebook.com/OilersNation/https://www.instagram.com/oilersnationdotcomhttps://www.tiktok.com/@oilersnation SHOUTOUT TO OUR SPONSORS!!
The final hour is here! Tyler Yaremchuk & Jeff Marek are joined by the player panel of Matthew Barnaby and Carter Hutton, analysts Colby Cohen and Jonny Lazarus, and PuckPedia founder Hart Levine. Jake Allen resigned with New Jersey and joined the show to talk about staying with the Devils.
Hour 3 brings us some more signings! Tyler Yaremchuk & Jeff Marek have you covered with all the signings with Matthew Barnaby and Carter Hutton on the player panel, analysts Colby Cohen and Jonny Lazarus, and PuckPedia founder Hart Levine. They are also joined by David Pagnotta of The Fourth Period!
Hour 2 kicked it all off! Tyler Yaremchuk & Jeff Marek break down all the action with our player panel of Matthew Barnaby and Carter Hutton, analysts Colby Cohen and Jonny Lazarus, and PuckPedia founder Hart Levine. Corey Perry signs with the Kings, Brock Boeser stays in Vancouver, Dan Vlader signs in Philly, and Gavrikov signs with the Rangers
Hour 1 is in the books! Tyler Yaremchuk & Jeff Marek break down all the action with our player panel of Matthew Barnaby and Carter Hutton, analysts Colby Cohen and Jonny Lazarus, and PuckPedia founder Hart Levine. They are also joined by Jeff Paterson to talk Canucks and Jason Gregor to go over some of the signings the Oilers locked in including Bouchard.
Notre Dame Football Talk. Brady Quinn's thoughts on the ND/USC rivalry possibly going away, the Cubs have some things on their roster to fix, plus a look at the Detroit Lions schedule See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. Brady Quinn's thoughts on the ND/USC rivalry possibly going away, the Cubs have some things on their roster to fix, plus a look at the Detroit Lions schedule See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
We're back with another offseason edition of Oilersnation Everyday, and yes — more breaking news from Oil Country this morning!The Edmonton Oilers have re-signed Kasperi Kapanen to a 1-year deal worth $1.3 million, and have also extended Noah Philp on a 1-year deal worth $775K. We'll break down what these low-cost deals mean for the Oilers' cap structure, forward depth, and how they set the stage with NHL free agency just days away on July 1st.Could more moves be on the way? And how do these signings impact Evan Bouchard's next contract, or a potential future extension for Connor McDavid? We'll dive into the latest buzz around McDavid's status after Stan Bowman's comments over the weekend, and assess what Ken Holland's next priority might be.We'll hit our usual segments, including One Big Take, The Giant Question, and What's Trending, before wrapping things up with some betting talk powered by our friends at bet365.Offseason chaos is here — let's get into it.Website: https://oilersnation.com/ https://twitter.com/OilersNation/ https://www.youtube.com/@Oilersnationdotcom/ https://www.facebook.com/OilersNation/https://www.instagram.com/oilersnationdotcomhttps://www.tiktok.com/@oilersnation SHOUTOUT TO OUR SPONSORS!!
Evan Bouchard has re-signed with the Edmonton Oilers! Tyler and Liam breakdown deal and what it means for the Oilers offseason and what comes next!Offseason chaos is here — let's get into it.Website: https://oilersnation.com/ https://twitter.com/OilersNation/ https://www.youtube.com/@Oilersnationdotcom/ https://www.facebook.com/OilersNation/https://www.instagram.com/oilersnationdotcomhttps://www.tiktok.com/@oilersnation SHOUTOUT TO OUR SPONSORS!!
Welcome to Daily Faceoff Live hosted by Tyler Yaremchuk and Matt Larkin!What a wild weekend in the NHL as we are now in the eve of Free Agency!Today we start with the NHL Draft as Matthew Schaefer becomes the latest #1 Overall Pick and is heading to the New York Islanders, who also acquired Noah Dobson!Then we move onto the rating game as we go through some other news around the league this weekend.Extension Season is upon us as a handful of impactful NHL players signed extensions this weekend ahead of the deadline. Who got their guys?!What is the future for Mitch Marner as there are many rumors surrounding the Vegas Golden Knights as well as tampering! What will happen tomorrow. Matthew Barnarby then joins the All 32 to talk Free Agency!SHOUTOUT TO OUR SPONSORS!!
Hart Levine from PuckPedia joins the show to break down some signings and trades that went down over the weekend, and addresses several rumors surrounding the Edmonton Oilers, as Free Agency is set to open up on July 1st. Website: https://oilersnation.com/ https://twitter.com/OilersNation/ https://www.youtube.com/@Oilersnationdotcom/ https://www.facebook.com/OilersNation/https://www.instagram.com/oilersnationdotcomhttps://www.tiktok.com/@oilersnation SHOUTOUT TO OUR SPONSORS!!
Notre Dame Football Talk. The Irish pick up a massive 2026 tight end plus what does the position look like this year? Plus South Bend Cubs broadcaster Tyler Reidy.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. The Irish pick up a massive 2026 tight end plus what does the position look like this year? Plus South Bend Cubs broadcaster Tyler Reidy.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. InsideNDSports.com's Eric Hansen discusses the importance of the Irish getting Joey O'Brien. Plus a recap of the final two game of the Cubs series against the Cardinals. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. InsideNDSports.com's Eric Hansen discusses the importance of the Irish getting Joey O'Brien. Plus a recap of the final two game of the Cubs series against the Cardinals. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. Eric Hansen from InsideNDSports.com discusses what would have to go wrong for the Irish to miss the playoffs. Plus Cubs/Cardinals played a wild game and are the Cubs in position to grab the top starting pitcher on the market.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. Eric Hansen from InsideNDSports.com discusses what would have to go wrong for the Irish to miss the playoffs. Plus Cubs/Cardinals played a wild game and are the Cubs in position to grab the top starting pitcher on the market.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. The pros and cons for Jeremiyah Love's Heisman candidacy, Mike Singer on Notre Dame recruiting, a recap of Cubs/Cardinals and why college baseball is losing Darin as a big fan.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. The pros and cons for Jeremiyah Love's Heisman candidacy, Mike Singer on Notre Dame recruiting, a recap of Cubs/Cardinals and why college baseball is losing Darin as a big fan.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Notre Dame Football Talk. Darin discusses his Notre Dame football pre-season thoughts through questions he was asked on a sports show in Memphis. Plus Blue and Gold's Tyler Horka on if he would be surprised if Notre Dame misses the playoffs. Also a preview of the Cubs/Cardinals series and a look back at the Pacers game 7 loss.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
As a high-profile model and bestselling author, Christine Handy built a life that seemed picture-perfect as she graced campaigns for iconic brands like Pepsi, Victoria's Secret, and Budweiser. And yet behind the glamour was a woman facing unimaginable trials. A breast cancer diagnosis, along with a series of painful setbacks, would strip away her identity and force her to rebuild from the inside out. Today, Christine shares about the wrist injury that left her in chronic pain, the breast cancer diagnosis that upended her life, and the slow, sacred process of reclaiming her worth. Hear her open up about the emotional toll of losing her physical appearance, how her faith and friendships carried her through treatment, and what it means to truly see yourself (scars and all!) as beautiful. My friends, if you've ever struggled to feel worthy, battled a setback you didn't see coming, or wondered if your story still matters, this conversation is for you. You'll leave with a renewed belief in the power of hope, a reminder that real beauty comes from within, and the courage to keep going, no matter what life throws your way.