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Insults, Felix and Ash Men. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “Caring is a curse you dare not go without.” Saint Marie opened the door and went in with me following along. The meeting was in process. We were flashed concerned looks for multiple reasons; Pony-Goddess Saint Marie in her sports bra and boy shorts, me in biker pants, biking shoes and nothing else, and me being late. Katrina gave the two of us a momentary notice then proceeded with her meeting. "Katrina," Saint Marie interrupted. Katrina responded with an icy stare. "You are interrupting; make it quick," Katrina stated calmly. "Then I'll wait until you finish," Saint Marie responded with her own false politeness. She randomly meandered around Katrina's office making a nuisance of herself. I resumed my place in the line-up in time to get my work-review from Katrina. I rocked at my job. Apparently I was purloining corporate resources for a prototype gravity device that would crash the Moon into the Earth. My crime was that my project was over-budget; oh yeah, and I'd end all life on Earth. "Cáel, I am unsure if I should order you to work harder, or not to try so hard," Katrina worried. "First off, I apologize for being late and under-dressed today. I meant no disrespect and I have no excuse. I'm being stabbed repeatedly with a knife at three o'clock if that helps?" I offered. "Really?" Katrina arched an eyebrow. "Really," I confirmed. "Then I get to carry around one of those cool knives like the rest of this merry band here." "My breast implants; I'm going for a respectable 'B'; go in next Wednesday. Two weeks later and I'm off to Denmark to get my 'franks and beans' cut-off and tucked," I tried to sound serious. "A few hair extensions and I'll be one of the team for real," I grinned. "Katrina, why do you put up with this?" Saint Marie seethed. "Saint Marie, it is not your station to question me, or my orders," Katrina countered. "Still, a lesson is in order." "Daphne, do you like working with Cáel?" Katrina regarded her female 'new hire'. "He is more than funny; and very attractive," Daphne responded. "He provides insight into life that a normal Amazon wouldn't have access to. He instructs with humor and bravery in equal measure." "Fabiola?" "He is a waste of resources best put elsewhere," Fabiola insisted. "He is a source of dissension. We would be better training him and others like him to replace our diseased stock." I took some small level of comfort that the other 'new' hires were almost as offended as I was, though I couldn't show it. "Tigger?" "He was a vessel for the will of our ancestors," she replied. "What more proof do we need that he is necessary around here?" "Does anyone have anything different to add?" Katrina gazed over the others. No one spoke. "That's why (dead word spoken) Saint Marie," Katrina assumed a dark goddess-like aura. "Now apologize." "Apologize for questioning you?" Saint Marie snorted. "Hardly. You are using my people and my facilities to train a male in a manner not approved of by the Council." "I have Hayden's permission, but feel free to follow your convictions," Katrina nodded. "You have a daughter in outdoor training right now, Saint Marie. It would be utterly tragic if she experienced a crippling injury," Katrina sighed. "You wouldn't dare," Saint Marie took a few steps toward Katrina who stood up from her desk. "Dare? Hayden and I have tolerated your intransigence until now," Katrina glared. "Keep to your beliefs. Now you know the cost of standing in the way of progress," Katrina continued. "We cannot afford to remove you, but we can end your counter-productive thinking at this generation." "When the Council finds out you've overstepped your bounds it will be the end of you," Saint Marie kept coming. "We are a dying people, Saint Marie. Hayden and I are willing to kill as many of you as necessary so that our daughters will have daughters of their own," Katrina stated. "If you want to see who is truly overstepping, recall our oaths. We obey the High Priestess, the Council, our Houses and our duties. I am the Spear in Night and Death. You are the Golden Mare." "You wage war upon our many enemies. I ferret them out, within and beyond our society," Katrina educated us. "If I determine an Amazon is an enemy, I bring their name to Hayden for a final adjudication of the Ancestors. If the Ancestors deny you, then I must remove the enemy. You know how that goes." "My daughter is not the enemy," Saint Marie spat. "That is not our place to decide," Katrina gave a feral grin. "You should have been an Augur if you wanted that kind of knowledge. Besides, neither you nor your daughter are under sentence of death. She can live a long full life without an eye; or an arm." Saint Marie fidgeted, contemplating violence. "Everyone, but Cáel leave," Katrina ordered. Saint Marie was staying as clearly intended. After Dora shut the door, Katrina added, "Touch my male again, and I'll do something worse to you." "What I do to a male shouldn't matter," Saint Marie growled. "The New Directive matters to us all and I think Cáel Nyilas will be the only one to pass the first round of the program, so Hayden thinks he matters; as do I," Katrina glared right back. "He hit me," Saint Marie grumbled. "After you grabbed his jaw like you would an unruly child," Katrina countered. "He was a rebellious male," Copper Horse chick kept coming. "Saint Marie, where did you confront him? It wasn't a basket weaving class; it was a firing range," Katrina sighed in exasperation. "Cáel being on the range was the reason you came here. Why did you manhandle him?" A pregnant pause followed. "I was an hour late so I missed his practice time," Saint Marie admitted. "Cáel, I blame you," Katrina looked my way. "Yes Ma'am; Katrina," I nodded. What did I do now? "Cáel's presence makes normally controlled, rational women act in an abnormal fashion," Katrina informed Saint Marie. "I prefer to believe that than think we are incapable of accepting a lone outsider male amongst us," Katrina added. "If we treat him the way we treated our old male population we would be perpetuating our mistakes. He doesn't submit because that was the type of male we selected. Why is he learning how to fight? That should be obvious to you." "Care to enlighten me?" I requested. "No," the two women replied. Ah, what the fuck. "That's okay. I figured it out," I shrugged. "I was checking to see if I warranted the truth." Katrina put her face into her upraised hands. She may have wept a single tear. "You know nothing," Saint Marie stated dismissively. "He knows enough," Katrina shook her head. "Who would have told him?" Saint Marie looked back to Katrina suspiciously. "Why don't you ask him?" Katrina chuckled. Saint Marie turned back to me. "Was it Katrina?" Saint Marie threatened. "No and no 'one' person. It was two unrelated slip-ups by two unrelated Amazons," I said. "One referenced a previous time when the Amazons let men bear arms, which led to disaster. The other was the use of the term 'Ash Men' as a positive moniker." "That's all I know. I suspect there was a time when the Amazons let down their guard and allowed men to be equals, or semi-equals, in their society. There was a rebellion that left a bitter taste on the Amazon racial psyche. Somehow the Ash Men played a positive role in Amazon society. For some reason, you exterminated them," I concluded. Saint Marie flinched. "Why do you say that?" she studied me. "They are not around today and you are all hateful psychopaths," I explained. "Again, you know nothing," Saint Marie insisted. "Katrina, unless you are not finished insulting my intelligence, can I use your bathroom so that I can get dressed and go to work?" I looked at my boss. "Insult to your intelligence duly noted. When you are finished, report to Medical. They want to test a variety of gene-therapies on you," Katrina told me. I stumbled and stared. Katrina laughed. "Get to work." From the bathroom, I heard Saint Marie question Katrina. "Is he afraid of Medical, or is he worried about being a test subject?" she posed. "Neither; he's surprised that he had his job explained to him before he actually got there. It has never happened before," Katrina replied. "You send him on missions without him knowing what he's going to be doing?" Saint Marie grunted. "Yes. It makes him think on his feet," Katrina noted. "That is probably why his work is so substandard," Saint Marie remarked. "Cáel's work is not substandard. He may be the best new hire in the batch. I give him crappy reviews to keep him on his toes," Katrina snickered. "He knows what I'm doing, but he still keeps trying harder despite that," Katrina sounded amused. "Cáel is one of the few joys in my life; and if he doesn't finish getting dressed in the next 30 seconds I'm going to assign him to babysitting Marilynn at the hospital next." I hoped out of Katrina's bathroom; mostly dressed. "Is Marilynn okay?" I worried. "I didn't get the call last night, but I never imagined anything bad happened to her." Saint Marie appeared confused. "Someone gave her a bad drugs and she nearly overdosed," Katrina brought me up to date. "That is where Desiree is. Now go to work." Off I went. "He is enamored of Marilynn St. James?" I caught Saint Marie inquiring. "Oh no," Katrina answered. "He has rather a low opinion of her, but Cáel would run into a burning ammo dump to save Constanza. He is stupidly enchanting that way." I had one last hurdle. There were the 'new' hires talking with Felix. They were captured in his orbit and he was having a blast soaking up the attention. He was making real inroads with the ladies but he missed a fundamental aspect of his environment; who hunted who. "Cáel," Felix parted the women as he came my way. "How did you do last night? Didn't you and Gina hook-up? I'm done with her, so it isn't like you'd be poaching," he grinned. I sensed the emotional tidal shift. "Nah, both Gina and I were of the opinion you dumped her to have a one-night stand with Brooke, break her heart then toss her back to me," I shrugged. Felix glared. This wasn't how the 'game' was played. Where was my outrage? "Are you going to take her back?" Felix went all alpha-predator on me. Bad move. The only predators around here had to have tits; bulging pectorals didn't count. "If you do, go easy on her. She's sore," he kept grinning like the wolf he was. "Besides," he fished something flimsy and back out of his pocket, "he can return these to her." He tossed me Brooke's panties from last night. In Havenstone, Brooke was a 'nobody'; an outsider. She didn't matter. Felix taking a trophy from a woman did matter. I was different because I knew the score. Felix didn't have that luxury. I actually held them up, displaying Brooke's rather daring choice in evening lingerie. A little bit of education was in order. "Pretty clever; the old hiding the panties trick so you can exhibit them later," I chuckled. "I use it to get a call back. You clearly get off on mailing them to her parents, boyfriend, or husband as if having sex with you wasn't humiliation enough." Felix moved to the very edge of my personal space. "Now you are being a poor sport," he sneered. "What do you mean?" I remained cool. "I went over to Brooke's this morning. We critiqued your sexual performance. She found you truly impressive; just a little weak down the closing stretch." "She said that to make you feel less inadequate," Felix reposed. "Nah; she said that so she could have sex with me," I sighed. "I fought her off as long as I could, but she wrestled me down and rode me like the pony express. If you wore her out; well; ah, she recovers quickly and vigorously." "You are so full of shit," he laughed. "You got a pity fuck. Accept it." "Think what you will," I smirked. "I left her smiling. You left her in tears and isn't the woman's pleasure what it is all about?" Pandering to my audience. "I agree," Felix took back in his surroundings. Nice recovery except for; "So that's why you stole Brooke's panties and chose to publicly hurl them at me," I met his gaze, the bastard, "because she matters; most?" Felix could feel the room temperature dropping by the Kelvin. "It is how the game is played," he snarled. He was starting to clue in that things had gone wrong. How had they gone wrong? For starters, the only Alphas allowed in Havenstone didn't have dicks. Treating women, even outsider women, as if they were game pieces on a male's only board wouldn't wash here. I had coughed up the name of every woman I'd ever had intercourse with; but that was for the job, not for general consumption. Felix, by idiotically seducing all the new hires in Executive Services had showed them EXACTLY what he thought of them; outsider women to be taken as prizes. Reference the Greeks in the Trojan War for how the Amazons felt about that. This was not sympathy for world-wide femininity. This was terrorists attacking a school. When the Amazons found those terrorists, they killed them; not to save outsider children, but because the terrorist were fucking dangerous. Since Felix treated all women like trophies and conquest, he, by definition, would treat Amazon women the same way. Good job, Pinhead. Felix was a pretty smart guy. He finally realized I'd kicked his ass without lifting a finger. Felix couldn't figure out why he'd lost, only that he'd lost. Then we were back to Felix being the man who always has to win. He couldn't let go. He couldn't let me have my moment and depart in peace. This was made all the worse for I was the Bumpkin; the guy he'd dissed from Day One. "I guess I need to have another go at Brooke to set the record straight," Felix hissed quietly. "I'll make it easy on you," I laughed loudly. "I am tired of you hiding behind my acquaintances to get at me. I have a friend coming over at 5:10 pm, so give me an hour and I'll meet you on the mats." "Why should I?" he sneered. "What's on the line?" "Normally I fight for a cause, even if it is my own self-respect. I'm making an exception in your case; I'll fight you solely to kick your ass. Just cause you are a lousy human being. I know you are because I'm one too. Fight, or cluck; your choice." "I'll fight you," he smiled confidently. "I'll break you for everyone to see and then I'll take that luscious blonde." I had to laugh. "Good luck with that," I chuckled. I could see it now. Felix: 'You are now my prize'; Elsa: 'You are now in Intensive Care'. Woot! I couldn't lose. (Somewhere in the midst of this nightmare, Cáel needs to earn a paycheck) Felix had the physical confrontation he wanted. Somewhere in the back of my mind was that I had to do something inane yet again; like consumer test Ginsu Spatulas, or the equivalent. Felix noted the open hostility directed his way, but had neither the knowledge, nor the empathy to give a fuck. The elevator closed on his smug face. Work time. "That didn't take you long at all," Saint Marie chortled from behind me. I jolted. "If I wasn't doing this, I'd be hand-feeding polar bears, so cut me some slack," I groaned. "I was under the impression that your pugnacity was more of a defense mechanism, not male bravado," Saint Marie probed. "I am as much surprised as you are about this. I don't even like the girl involved. I've never fought over a woman before, but Felix used that woman to get at me; ineffectively," I mused. "My emotions don't; you don't want to be hearing any of this, do you?" "No," Saint Marie said. I stared at her. She stared at me. "Yes?" "Have you ever done any bikini wrestling?" I blurted out. She blinked. "Gotta go. Work to do," and I fled. In the elevator I recognized one of the ladies from International Finance though I didn't know her name. "What happened to your face?" she asked. "Do you know who the Golden Mare is?" I replied. She nodded very respectfully. "Well, she hit me." The woman studied me. "I guess I shouldn't have hit her first." "You hit (dead word spoken) Saint Marie?" She gulped. "I'm stunned you are still alive." "You and me both," I sighed. "I'm starting to regret suggesting she take up bikini wrestling." Blink. "Tell me about it. I was looking into her eyes and that was the first thing to come to mind," I shrugged. "I repeat, I'm stunned you are still alive," she shook her head. "What do you mean? I think she'd look good in a bikini," I stated. The door opened to Medical. "Have a good day at work now," I smiled. "I'm off to crush marbles with a sledgehammer." My real job was to be a genetic guinea pig. I had to sit naked on a gurney and let them take blood and tissues samples. The sperm sample was fun. First I insisted that I'd been in a fight earlier in the morning and my elbows weren't up to the job. After confirming this, they had some poor 'new hire' jack me off. I held out as long as I could, to the point she gave me a blowjob; her first. Sadly, when senior medical technician informed her of the extinction of her oral virginity, they were both less than pleased yours truly. I reminded them that I didn't shoot off into her mouth, or anything so crude. Next I informed them of a little known fact that my first ejaculate of the day (no mention of Brooke by me) was sterile and we had to repeat the process. No such luck. Damn microscopes. To prove I was a lousy patient, I feigned a collapse and a lack of breathing. I didn't grapple with my CPR specialist. I very slowly and tenderly wrapped her up in my embrace. I told her that at the moment of utter darkness, her heartbeat brought me back to the light. I was a the point of penetration when a real doctor showed up and pulled the struggling Physician's Assistant away; she hadn't finished saving me, the young Amazon protested. At this point the team threatened to give me a sedative. I responded with 'is it chemical, or a blow to the head'. They smiled and said they'd give me both if I misbehaved again. My counter-offer was a request for some Neapolitan ice cream. They conceded the issue, I got my ice cream and stopped being a jack-ass. At 11:30 am, the first battery of tests concluded. As we were wrapping up, I asked why I had to be naked for the entire thing. They stared at me. Strangely, the Amazon who had prepped me for this nonsense had made herself scarce. Damn it. The doctors then gleefully informed me that I had to be naked for the second half of the test, after lunch. I asked why. They smiled. Bitches. As I was fixing my tie, my phone rang. "Hello, Android Cáel Nyilas here," I answered. There was some giggling; Brooke. "Hey, Android Cáel, this is flesh and blood Brooke Lee," she snickered. Man, I had turned her around emotionally in only a few hours. Screw Felix. "Have you eaten lunch yet?" she asked. I bit back my automatic response; asking if she was on the menu. We'd talked about Libra as I was leaving this morning. "You, me and Libra?" I suggested. Brooke put her hand over the phone; the dearth of background noise was the giveaway. "She may not want to see you," Brooke hedged. That meant Libra was listening in. "We talked about this earlier, Brooke," I sighed. "I want a chance to at least talk with her." Not totally false. I wanted to fuck her again. That necessitated some amount of conversation so I was willing to put forth the ergs of energy. "I'll make the effort," Brooke promised. Making Libra a deal-breaker might have been sugar-coated chocolate for Libra. It would have also made them both suspicious of my suspicions. "Please do your best," I said. "Where do you want meet?" "My place?" she teased. "Libra plus I would only have forty-five minutes with you, which is not nearly enough time," I reminded her. Sex. "Libra doesn't have to know," Brooke was now pressing Libra's buttons. "We are not going to go there," I insisted. They didn't own me and I didn't own them. We were bantering back and forth, playing with sexual innuendo of the relationship kind. A good aphrodisiac is a woman thinking you are foregoing sex with another woman to have sex with her. Best of all (for me) for hooking Libra and me back together, Libra was going to let Brooke fuck me yet again. Win-win-win. "We'll meet at Stanhope's," Brooke finished. I agreed to meet her there in ten minutes and off I went. Aisha, the Arabic swimsuit model/SD hottie called for me as I was heading out the door. I asked why. She didn't say so I ran for it. Screw them all; it was my lunch break. I made it to Stanhope's. I was fleet of foot and was getting the hang of hailing taxis. Libra was with Brooke at an outdoor table at Stanhope's. I didn't fake surprise. My cover was that I had faith in Brooke. I kissed Brooke while Libra gave me the cold shoulder. "Libra doesn't believe we've talked about her," Brooke opened up. "You are the one who keeps shouting out her name during orgasm," I sighed. "That's not a joking matter," Libra snapped viciously. "It made you talk to me," I winked. Libra growled. "I hate you," she seethed. "That is a perfectly normal, if heart-rending reaction to our past two encounters," I admitted. "I hope it hurt," Libra seethed. "Besides, I went out with Brian Fung last night." She was stating the obvious. I was okay with that. It left her open to my lie. "Have you moved on?" I moped. Libra not seeing me anymore made me want to cry. Missing her was utter anguish; it was written all over my face. Non-verbal deception is as important as the verbal kind. I was not beating a dead horse, I was coaxing a thoroughbred to the Triple Crown. Give the girl what she wants; verbally, sexually and, if you can pull it off convincingly, emotionally. "I don't know," Libra stated which meant 'no, she hadn't moved on'. "Let's go out tomorrow night," I suggested. Be bold enough to make the first move, but not so aggressive she feels pressured. Being a man isn't beating your chest; it is stepping up to get your ego battered by the girl. If it wasn't for my first, failed romantic attempt, I wouldn't be where I am today. It hurt like Hell when she publically rejected me. These days, my bed was always warm so the pain was well worth it. "Why not tonight?" Libra got combative. "Felix and I had a disagreement at work," I grinned. "We are settling the issue tonight at six." "What happened?" Brooke leaned in close to me, hungry for details. I was a bastard. "He loudly presented me with these," I slipped Brooke her panties under the table. "In the middle of my office and co-workers. Even my Boss heard it," I added. Brooke's deeply tanned complexion paled. Libra didn't see the panties, but she knew the score. "What did you do?" Libra pressed. "I told him Brooke was a grown woman and could make her own decisions about who she was with," I started. "Brooke is a wonderful lady and she should be courted based on that. Felix had this bizarre idea that I felt possessive about her and thought he was using Brooke to hurt me over a slight at work," I wove forth the basic truths. "I'm not going to fight Brooke's battles," I affirmed which meant that 'yes, I was going to fight Brooke's battles'. If you are a guy and you assume that the woman is actually hearing the words coming out of your mouth, you are deluded. The reverse is also the same. "If a man has a problem with me, he comes after me, not my friends," I grew stern. This meant Felix was not a man. It also meant that I considered Brooke, thus Libra, my friends. They were okay with that. This didn't mean they thought of me as a friend. It was similar to the family butler. I had to memorize every detail of their lives. If they remembered my birthday, I should feel blessed; symbolically speaking of course. I'd make an abysmal butler. "Did he hit you?" Libra leaned across the table and stroked my cheek right below the place Saint Marie had clocked me. "That? Nah. An Archer fish tried to shoot my eye out so now he's fish sticks," I replied. "With all your wounds," Libra hesitated, "Are you in the military?" "Libra, I'm a disaster as a civilian," I chuckled. "I'd make an impossible soldier. Half way through basic training I'd start showing up in a kilt; 'cause it makes me feel free and breezy down there'." "When they tried to make me change, I'd charge them with cultural insensitivity," I smiled. "What would you do if they let you get away with it?" Brooke snickered. "Take up horse archery; because you never know when you'll be without fuel and bullets on the modern battlefield," I postulated. "If they let me get away with that, I'd stay, but I'd join the airborne." "I like parachuting," Brooke nodded. "Have you ever done it?" She bet I hadn't and she was right. "Never before in this lifetime. I really want to see if I could get my horsed trained to do it first," I chortled. "Lord knows, nobody else has. The first Airmobile Horse Archery unit. That would be pretty cool." "The horse would break her legs," Libra frowned. "Use an air mattress platform for the horse to stand on, sort of like those air bags stuntmen use, but smaller," I reasoned. I wasn't sure if Brooke and Libra were more stunned about the plausibility of my suggestion, or that I had created it off the cuff. We ordered lunch and drinks. Service was very efficient so I had only pushed my salad aside to have my grilled shrimp replaced it when a shadow fell across our table. It was a stormy Aisha. "Cáel Nyilas, you are coming with me," she spoke with deceptive calm. "No," I replied then ate a shrimp. She put her hand on my shoulder. I brandished my fork. "Listen up," I grumbled. I tapped my wristwatch with my fork, "I've got 35 more minutes on my lunch break. I'm eating with friends; okay, almost friends; " "I'm Cáel's friend," Brooke rallied. Aisha bore down on my collarbone, so I stabbed at her hand with the fork. She moved it out of the way first. "Come now," she growled. "Very well," I sighed. "Since you certainly have never heard this from a man before meeting me, I'll clarify. NO, I'm not coming with you. Go away you annoying twit. If that was unclear, let me add; no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no and no." Aisha looked over her shoulder. There were two more SD chicklets. Woot! "Last chance to keep this simple," Aisha threatened. "Brooke and Libra, you need to stand up and back away," I instructed them as I stood up as well, "I'm going to need your chairs as weapons." The girls grabbed their food and backed up. "Don't make a scene," Aisha whispered. "Ex-squeeze me? I'm eating lunch. In thirty-five minutes I'll be back at work. You are the one being a total bitch for annoying the fuck out of me here," I glared. "All you had to do was tell me why you wanted me back at Havenstone, but you didn't feel the need, so now we have this stand-off." "It is not a stand-off and I don't explain myself to you," Aisha glared back. She even showed me she had a gun. I laughed, pulled out my phone. "What are you doing?" Aisha made a swipe for the phone. "Making me late for work," I chuckled. "I'm dialing 9 1 1." "Do that and you will be in a world of trouble," she threatened. "You haven't thought this out, have you, Aisha?" I snickered. "If it was important to my job, Katrina, or Medical would have called me. If it was a calamity, Hayden perhaps. Barring that, I can't wait to hear your excuse for starting a public brawl." "I told you to come with me and you had best obey," Aisha hissed. That was the tipping point. Recycling old, failed arguments is the sign that your opponent has lost. "Yeah; right," I shrugged. I sat back down and began eating. A second later, Brooke and Libra joined me. Aisha retreated to the curb and waited; and got ticketed because it was a No Parking Zone. "Who was that woman? I've seen her before," Brooke commented. "She's that woman from the first night we met," Libra answered. "She's not my boss so I don't care," I tried to recapture our earlier mood. It was only partially successful. The three SD ladies kept their eyes on us until dinner was cleared away and it was time to go back. I kissed both Brooke and Libra goodbye with a promise of a date the next night. When I tried to walk past Aisha, she grabbed my arm. From my point of view, a ride to work was a ride to work and this one was free. I travelled in silence. Miraculously, they didn't answer my request to go to Medical, though we were at least going up; and up; and up. Crap. They deposited me in Hayden's office then departed. It was Hayden, Katrina, Saint Marie, Elsa, and Tessa. The door shut ominously behind me. "Cáel, I like you," Hayden began. "Unless you are working on an assigned task, you are not allowed to defy a woman of Havenstone who gives you a clear concise order, especially one from the Security Detail." It didn't take me a second to formulate my treatise on the Rights of Man. "No." That didn't go over well. Into the emptiness, I forged ahead. "You can't expect for me to be given conflicting orders and expect me to succeed. You people have a chain of command for a reason. I follow that chain like every other member of Havenstone." "You are not a member of Havenstone," Hayden pointed out. That I had to think about. I scanned each impassive face in the room. I wanted to cry; not out of fear; out of frustration because I really had tried so hard to make this work. "You are all a bunch of cowards and I regret ever wanting to be part of this place," I spat. "Your opinion of us does not matter," Hayden started. "Cowardly act number one," I interrupted. Hayden's gaze hardened. "It is your time. You publically defied a Havenstone employee on a mission concerning you," she continued. "Cowardly acts number two and three," I growled. Now Saint Marie and Elsa closed in. I turned to face them. I wanted to go down swinging, no matter how futile the gesture. "Cowardly act number four; suddenly, when you desire, my insolence matters," I set myself for what was to come. "Don't fight," Tessa commanded softly. Katrina kept her own counsel. "That's your fucking problem, right there," I shouted. "This isn't the Sunshine Scouts. This is a martial society. I fight, because that is what every bitch here is broadcasting. I didn't hit Rhada when she hit me. I called for help, like any sane individual. When no help was forthcoming, I called for someone to get the police. Again, you did nothing." "Fuck you all. Rhada attacked me, so I put her down. Madi attacked me, so I put her down too; and it all your damn fault and not one of you has the courage to face that fact," I shouted. "You attack me for fighting back at the same time you tell me to fit in. Now which is it? Am I to fit in to a martial culture, or am I not? Make up your damn minds!" "You do not get to talk to us like that," Saint Marie murmured. "Somebody better talk to us like this," Katrina finally spoke. "Face facts: Cáel is here because he resists. He resists because that is the lesson we are teaching him, Sisters." "What do you mean?" Elsa regarded Katrina. "When Cáel is challenged physically and resists successfully, or even unsuccessfully, he grows in the estimation of our Sisters. No one admits it, but it is the truth. The harder he fights, the more he is valued. It is a very simple principle. He has never believed he is a member of the Host, a Runner, or even a recruit. He does not strive to be an Amazon of any kind," Katrina lectured. "Then we expect him to do ridiculous things like walk off with an Amazon he barely knows who doesn't even explain where he is going, or what he is supposed to do," Katrina shook her head. "Somehow we forecast his desire to be treated with a modicum of respect to be a threat? Respecting him does not make him an Amazon; it makes him a warrior in our cause." "The Council has not decided on that portion of the New Directive yet," Saint Marie stated. "Warrior-Fathers," Katrina declared firmly. "My niece, Aya; you all know of her; she went to camp this week and SHE formed her own war band with her fellow students. Fuck you all very much; It works!" "Katrina," Hayden cautioned. "Hayden, I am tired of this half-measure bullshit. There is no being half-alive. We live, or we die. We made a mistake then we made another one. Let's not make it three." I raised my hand. "Yes?" Hayden finally acknowledged me. "Can I go back to work now? Sitting here is like commenting on the rain. I have a lot to say, but it won't affect the rain one iota," I reasoned. "You are not going to run?" Tessa asked. I knew she was joking. "Well, I can't get past the front door. I can't escape out the garage and I left my diamond-tipped glasscutter and 150 meters of rope in my other jacket," I informed her. "I guess I'll have to use the 15 kg of C-4 I have stuck in my shorts. I know it makes me look like I took a colossal dump in my underwear, but trust me, it is only a weapon," I grinned. I tried to get around Elsa. She brushed her hand over my chest. "You are special," she purred. "You scare me," I mumbled. "I know," she grinned happily. "Bye Pony-Lady," I waved to Saint Marie. "Cáel," Hayden called out. I halted, but didn't turn around. "You will stop referring to the Marshal of the Amazon Host as 'Pony-Lady', is that clear?" "Yes Hayden. Good-bye Saint Marie," I said as I departed. "Are you sure he is not mentally defective?" Saint Marie questioned. "He is," Elsa replied. "He laughs at Death." See, what did I tell you? Now you can run out and pick up an infatuated female psychopath of your very own. (Later in the day) Knife-fighting class was taught by this painfully thin yet tall Amazon with mostly grey-white hair. There was nothing wrong with her reflexes, or sight. She regarded me, her only student, with passionless eyes. She had me sit down cross-legged, she did the same opposite me, and we spent an hour talking about the philosophy of knife-fighting. Knives were hardly ever the first weapon of choice. That was part of the lesson; knowing when to choose a knife to fight with. We talked about all kinds of blades, focusing on the short, hilt-less blades every Amazon carried. I had to get one special-made. It was the size of my palms. If the blade was too small, it would cut up my hand when I used it. Except for a few hand motions, it was verbal instruction. Knife from an advantage, knife from the front, and knife at a disadvantage. Each had its own set of rules to follow. It was cool. Me having a penis didn't bother her in the least. At the end of the lesson, I asked if I could call her Zen Master. She said 'no', her name was Pamela. I then asked if I could call her Zen Mistress Pamela. Smiling, she said 'no' again. My last attempt was 'Blossoming Petals of Death Pamela' at which point she laughed and told me to give it a rest. I found myself with a free hour so I raced down to the pool and took in a few laps. It was a crime against nature that all the Amazons were one-piece bathing suits. Here I was in my Speedo and no one to play with. That wasn't really true. After my first lap, two Amazon lasses tried to engage me in a race without actually talking to me. As they were turning back they realized I was keeping to my same strong, casual strokes in my own little World. That annoyed them so the next time around, one got into my lane, turned to face me and stopped. Right according to plan, or if you prefer, like stealing candy apple kisses from a lady. I almost ran into her. At the very last second, I pulled up, letting my body coast up against her. She was treading water and looking vibrant. Her treading water meant I didn't have to. One hand settled on her mid-back (friendly enough), but the other one cupped her right ass and immediately probed along her cleft and to her wet tunnelfrom behind. Her 'Happy Choice' pop-up indicators went off and I had a winner. I was sure I could have pointed a shotgun in this woman's face and she'd have spit on me. With my pelvice bumping up against her crotch, my finger wiggling around her suit for her tunnel, and my other arm keeping her close, she looked totally flummoxed. "What are you doing?" she whispered. I was sure she wanted to have that sound authoritative, not like plea for an instruction manual. "How about this," I replied quietly, "you keep your hands moving and I'll kick so that you can wrap your legs around my waist?" "Why would I want to do that?" she asked; while her legs wrapped around my waist. A little positon altering with my hand and I was having her pulse against me. "Deena?" the other Amazon called out. She was swimming in close proximity now. "I;” Deena responded to her comrade. "You are taking liberties," she chastised me even as an erotic smile graced her lips. "Please don't turn me in," I murmured to her. My lips were a few millimeters from hers. The other woman could clearly make out our physical relationship between us. "Stop that," the unnamed woman demanded. "Ah;” Deena moaned as I slipped two fingers past her swimsuit and into her slickness. The stranger tried to separate us, but Deena shook her head. "No; we are okay." "Stop it," I whispered. "Don't make me; don't make me; don't," and kissed. Total lie for the sake of our voyeur. Deena wasn't currently capable of making me doing anything. Why was I doing this? Out of control libido plus stress plus I still had Yasmin and Felix to deal with. Oh yeah, Deena being cute, firm and just curvaceous enough to be Grace Kelly feminine didn't hurt. "Why are we doing this?" Deena murmured sexily. "Am I making you happy?" I posed. She thought about it then nodded. "I thought being with a male would be more difficult," she countered. "Stop looking so athletic," I teased her, "and it will be easier for me to get away." Calling an Amazon 'pretty', or even 'beautiful' would have limited, if any affect. Better words were 'impressive, swift, healthy, fit and athletic, because that's what they valued in one another. Even 'scary' and 'frightening' were turning out to be good words to use. They never got enough male input to matter. "You are very healthy for a male," Deena purred back. "How healthy?" the other one asked. She was now more curious than offended with my audacity. "He's VERY healthy, Sharona," Deena smiled. "He has strong fingers as well." I knew the look Sharona shot me. It was the 'why her and not me?' The answer was clear to her; Deena had been bold, thus won. It was traditional Amazon culture. I was easier to blame me because I was the guy. All three of us knew the score. More kissing and kitty-petting ensued. It became even more rewarding when I eventually bumped into Deena's clit. I didn't have to do much. My finger rubbed against her nub, Deena really liked that and started humping my finger before I could do anything. Public sex had never been a stimuli for me. I didn't mind it and by the number of Amazons circling, or watching from poolside, they didn't mind what Deena was 'doing' to me either. There was no screaming, thunderclap of joy, or even a violent physical spasm. Deena pressed tight, made several yipping noises and came down whimpering happily. She was a truly content little camper; that was for sure. "You had sex!" one of the bystanders called out. I looked into Deena's eyes. "If you say 'yes', I'll wake up tomorrow morning in Baku Faso," I whispered. "No; no we weren't," Deena gave me a sultry look. "We were practicing lifeguarding techniques. Did I save your life?" "I'm Cáel," I breathed on her lips. "Yes, I feel like a whole new man." "We will have to hone your skills; real soon," Deena winked. That was not a request. That was 'come back, or I'll hunt you down'. "I normally cannot make it before five," I informed her. "That works for me," Deena pulled away. She gave a warm sigh as my fingers slipped out of her. I made for the side. As I pulled myself out, my equipment straining at the seams, several wonderful ladies surrounded me. "Do you think you are leaving?" they confronted me. "I have a five o'clock end-of-day meeting with Katrina," I calmly explained. Katrina was my 'Get out of Jail' free card that allowed me to escape the pool and the shower without becoming a scratching post. Amazons aren't animals; I'm just that sexy. Yes, I could pick up almost any girl at a club. I also had various Amazon pre-ordering collars with my name on it. By now my neck size was common knowledge. (Wednesday Evening) The stuff of my nightmares: I walk out from the end of day meeting with Katrina and the new hire ladies two see a gaggle of other women waiting for me, I assumed. I knew them all. Farah Winters recruited me from Bolingbrook, Umami Lhasa who was Tessa Carmichael's right-hand woman, Tessa herself; and Yasmin Palhavã, my Brazilian hottie and workout date. "Hi Cáel," they all greeted me. "Hey ladies," I did my best to look happy. "What's going on?" "Havenstone has offered me a job," Yasmin grinned. How could this possibly go wrong? Yasmin thought this place was run by a crazy cult, so why did she look at ease? She could be trying to infiltrate Havenstone; bad idea. She could have had a conversion; I hope her son would be okay. She was; high on drugs; okay, the last one was weak. "What department?" I kept going. "We are trying to convince her to start out in Security Services (the guards) then move her up to Financial Investigations due to her expertise with the Policia Federal in her homeland," Tessa said. "Cáel, by the look on your face, I know you are concerned. Ms. Carmichael; Tessa, has told me some things that put the situation in perspective," Yasmin gave me an all so sexy look. "You are far braver than I thought you were." "What? That I invested the entirety of my 401K on the comeback of Baleen Oil?" I joked. "My Son will be okay," Yasmin patted my hand. Was I that much of an open book? "Do you have an instinct to protect children?" Umami inquired. "Not before I got here, but then I didn't know anyone who would casually kill children either," I responded. I had to ask the next question. I couldn't be me and not. "Tessa, can I ask you a serious question?" I began. Tessa nodded. "Why was Yasmin 'read in' to Havenstone? I don't doubt for a second she's a qualified as an investigator, but this strikes me as highly unusual and even reckless for your; people." "It was this, or kill her," Tessa answered. "By the way, that was Yasmin's first question too." "Precisely, my question was 'are you going to kill me for that crazy cult stuff that went down last week?'" Yasmin corrected. "She said I had to answer two questions to decide that." In a bizarre, Amazon-style way, that made sense. Yes, Yasmin would beat her husband nearly to death for cheating on her; and shooting her, and she would willingly have sex again. I knew this because Buffy told me her backstory and it had Katrina asking her the two questions as well. "Yasmin, let me clarify this right now," I held my ground. "I'm cheating on you. Please don't hit me. It has been a bad day and the pain has just begun." And all the psycho-bitches laughed. "Let's go practice, É o meu P.A.," Yasmin chuckled. No one was going to tell me what the damn phrase meant. I dare not look it up on-line because if I did, and Yasmin saw that flicker of understanding in my eyes; bad things would happen to me in the bedroom. No, I needed an alibi witness. To be honest, I thought the bedroom was Paradise until some ladies (I'd cheated on; surprise, surprise) tied me to one. Having my body waxed by sadistic amateurs was only recently exceeded by being shot with an arrow on my pain meter. It is not something I like to talk about. They dyed my hair bright pink too. I ended up nailing the new assistant at the College infirmary, so it wasn't a total loss. Oh, and less I forget, they both took me back later, at the same time, without telling each other. It is a wonder I'm still alive. In an effort to keep that going, I took us to the non-blooded gym this time around. It wasn't as nice as the full-blooded one, but it was still very full service. The biggest difference I had noticed earlier was the lack of archaic weapons on the wall near the training mat. Yasmin and I decided on a 40/20 split; forty minute of working out and twenty minutes on the mats. Around 5:30 pm, Felix showed up. Like me, he automatically drew attention and he'd clearly been cultivating his aura. He barely spared me a glance, being absolutely confident he had the advantage in every aspect of our contest; both physically and socially. Within minutes a subliminal ripple moved through the crowd. I was spotting Yasmin so it took me a bit to figure out what was going on; full-bloods had entered. One by one, I picked out Daphne, Paula, Dora, Tigger, Violet and Oneida. They weren't coming at me; that would have kept things calm. No, 'my' ladies were circulating and I didn't need ESP to figure out what they were saying. In the ladies' wake, evil looks where shot Felix's way. Once more, he felt the undercurrent but misunderstood it. He thought I was seeding the crowd against him. One Amazon 'Runner' cleared up the nature of the disturbance, if not reason for the outrage. "Did you really take a woman's underwear to use as a trophy to throw in Cáel's face?" the disbelieving woman asked. Felix was fearless. "Of course not," he assured her. "One of Cáel's many one night stands stopped by my place, slept and forgot; something. That's all." Good play. Since I wasn't in on sabotaging Felix, I had no counter and I wasn't going to get into a he-said/he-said contest that would leave me looking petty. Poor Felix, he kept forgetting we worked for some really smart women. Around thirty women into Felix's counter-propaganda campaign, Daphne struck. She was confronted by a pro-Felix lady. "Really?" Daphne announced loudly. "Let's clear this up why don't we." She pulled out her phone, hit one number and said, "Please project that footage to the 'Runner' gym." Ten seconds later, Felix and my conversation was projected to every TV suspended around the room. Yes, even Felix's boast and getting in my face. This wasn't solely Daphne's doing. She didn't have that kind of weight. Oneida on the other hand; Felix barely missed a beat. "Nyilas, you pulled that all out of context," he growled. The best defense is a great offense. "Felix, I'm a guy. No way in Hell I have the kind of access to security tapes," I held up my hands, proclaiming my innocence. Felix missed the 'I'm a guy' part. The women didn't. Most of them know I skated the rules, but never broke them. Yes, Katrina liked me. Would she give me access to security? That was laughable. Felix was about to pack on the stupidity. "Fine, you had one of your cheerleaders do it," Felix counterthrust. Cheerleader was not a 'positive' Amazon role model. Cheerleaders were women who promised sexual reward to male warriors that defeated their enemies (a bit of a biased view). The bipolar normal world reaction to cheerleaders aside, I knew cheerleaders were athletes who worked hard to pull off relatively complex routines. Telling the Amazons this was pointless. If any woman in this room had known a cheerleader before surrendering their old existence to become lethal man-killers, they probably didn't like them. If they had been a cheerleader, they were keeping their mouths shut. "Are you implying we have lied and altered the official record of events?" Daphne sizzled. See, lying to me and Felix was expected. Lying to their fellow Amazons, despite the Blood Prestige rift, wasn't going to happen. Trust and loyalty were fundamental virtues here. I imagine Felix had read that passage in the Handbook. I hadn't believed it for the first two days either. I'd been educated since then. "I wouldn't put it past you," Felix glared right back at Daphne. Foolish; stupid. "Yasmin, I gotta go," I hissed to my Brazilian MILF then rushed to get to Felix. I wasn't doing it for Felix, the douche. I was doing it for Katrina and her New Directive. Felix had not officially fucked up; he was just being a jerk. Daphne sent Felix a wicked smirk. She'd kicked his ass. Felix knew his ass had been kicked yet still couldn't grasp the underlying principles behind his defeat; he was in a Woman's World. "Felix, let's warm up," I urged him once I was close enough to be heard. "After that stunt; you can go fuck yourself," Felix glowered. "Dude, it wasn't me, I swear," I met his gaze. "I'm here. You find your own space," Felix indicated another portion of the mat. "Felix, these ladies are about to kill you. You do not want to send me away," I whispered. Felix formed a rebuttal then looked around. "Why?" Felix whispered back. Felix was finally acknowledging he'd lost. Now he wanted to know why. "I can't explain it right now, but let's say 'cheerleader' was the wrong descriptive to use," I continued. "Calling them liars only dug the hole deeper. It is the way it is." Felix didn't understand my words, but understood the intent. He was in Oz without any knowledge of the tornado that had taken him there. We didn't spar together. I did stay close enough to make my intent clear; there would be no ambushing of Felix. You had to understand Amazon psychology to figure out why they weren't angry with me. I was exhibiting loyalty; especially to a person I hated. Amazons had blood feuds, the specifics I hadn't figured out. You could probably kick your opponent's ass. If you stabbed them in the back, there was no rock on the face of the Earth you could hide under. "He practices Muay, Thai, and Savate," Oneida snuck up on me. "I lend you my spirit," she added with deep compassion. I turned on her and placed my hand between her breasts. "No. No cheating in this fight," I insisted. That drew many stares. "Hold your spirit for the battles that matter, not for the resolution of male grievances. Your heart is fierce and I appreciate that, Oneida. No one's spirit is infinite, so marshal your resources carefully." Yes, I was lecturing Oneida; bad move. Yes, I was safeguarding her spirit, as would any of the other Amazons in the room; good move. Cloaking my lecture and concern in mystical terms; the win. "I care deeply for you too," Oneida gave me a demur look, "my Ash Man." Kill me. Kill me now. This culture didn't have a 'ready-set-go'. When one person was ready, they attack without warning. I almost forgot that and blind-sided Felix. I didn't hold back for him. I held back because I didn't want him to be a whiny baby about this whole thing. I gave him a nod, he nodded back then he attacked. Two piston kicks by Felix backed me up. He switched up with a reverse roundhouse. That was his mistake; I slipped inside his kick range. I came at him; left jab, left jab, and a right cross in such a rapid blur the audience later told me their brains didn't register the hits until after the fact. It was lights out for Felix. His body made a wet, thumping noise at it hit the mat. There was a hush. Everyone expected this fight to go the distance. I was more renowned for my stamina than punching power. Welcome to the world of light heavy-weight boxing. My problem with Madi had been I couldn't touch her. I hadn't even gone all out with Rhada and I dropped her with two jabs. A good number of 'martial artists' think of boxing as a primitive fighting form. It is. It has also been around forever because the principles are rather simple and effective. Either don't get hit, or soak up the hit (particularly for heavier fighters), set your opponent up and clobber then. Felix had meant to control me with his powerful kicks. Both Savate and Muay Thai have excellent fist and elbow blocks and strikes. It is simply difficult to switch your focus from kicking to blocking in the blink of an eye. That was less time than what I gave Felix. Most people think of boxers as freight trains, not snipers. In truth, we are both; locomotives approaching the speed of light (somewhat). Double back to all the options Savate and Maui Thai boxers have. They would never be afraid to take a risky kick because they can block in so many ways. Suddenly the issue became one of distance and balance. The boxer was at the kicker's ankle at the moment of supposed impact and closing. By the time the kicker realized the kick's over-extension the boxer was at his knee. The kicker still had a plethora of elbow, arm and hand blocks and grapples; except all his power has gone down that kicking leg, leaving him with on point of balance; his other leg. Sure he could get an arm up, but it only had the strength and weight of that limb to call upon. The upcoming hit? It had the mass times acceleration of the boxer's body coming at him. Good luck. Felix could have beaten me, except it would have taken time. Closing would have allowed him to use all those nifty elbow, palm and hand strikes. It would have also allowed me to do what boxers to best; box. This wouldn't give me an advantage, just leveled the playing field a bit. He didn't want to grapple. I had an entire school devoted to grappling while it was an addendum to what he did. Felix's saw me go to a boxing stance, and like most practitioners of Savate and Muay Thai, he laughed inside. He was going to make a mockery of me because my style sucked and his styles were the ones that best broke your enemies and caused them pain. He was going to knock me back with his kicks then close in and pummel me with every part of his body before I could slip into jujitsu. It would be lightning fast and bloody. Nice in theory; bad in practice. He should have worn me down with his stronger legs. Things fell apart when I stopped running away after the sec
Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..
Sponsorem dzisiejszego odcinka jest aplikacja BookBeat, która służy do słuchania audiobooków i czytania e-booków. KOD: ROCKIBORYS https://www.bookbeat.pl/rockiborys?utm_source=spotify&utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=PL-rock-i-borys-action-3125&utm_content=textlink-spot-epi-description-30db&utm_term=deal3 Opowiadania zebrane - Jan Himilsbach https://www.bookbeat.com/pl/book/opowiadania-zebrane-1185050 Ultraprzetworzeni ludzie - Chris van Tulleken https://www.bookbeat.com/pl/book/ultraprzetworzeni-ludzie-1418920 (00:00) BookBeat - segment partnera (09:51) Call of Duty Black Ops 6 (13:58) Trap / Pułapka (16:43) PGA 2024 (17:42) Gothic 1 Remake (31:03) Klucze recenzenckie do Dragon Age: Straż Zasłony (37:25) Kingdom Come Deliverance II (38:48) Kleks Academy (40:49) Just a Die (42:52) Bumpkin and Sprout (44:40) jeszcze o PGA (46:44) Into the Underworld (49:22) Hellreaper (53:53) Abyss Chaser (55:25) Prototyp, 0hGJ, Nobody Wants to Die Just a Die https://store.steampowered.com/app/2987810/Just_a_Die/ Bumpkin and Sprout https://store.steampowered.com/app/2611600/Bumpkin_and_Sprout/ Into the Underworld https://store.steampowered.com/app/2362040/Into_the_Underworld/?l=polish Abyss Chaser https://store.steampowered.com/app/3273740/Abyss_Chaser/ Nobody Wants to Die https://store.steampowered.com/app/1939970/Nobody_Wants_to_Die/ Grupa Rock i Borys na FB - https://www.facebook.com/groups/805231679816756/ Podcast Remigiusz "Pojęcia Nie Mam" Maciaszek https://tinyurl.com/yfx4s5zz Shorty Rock i Borys https://www.facebook.com/rockiborys https://www.tiktok.com/@borysniespielak Serwer Discord podcastu Rock i Borys! https://discord.com/invite/AMUHt4JEvd Słuchaj nas na Lectonie: https://lectonapp.com/p/rckbrs Słuchaj nas na Spotify: https://spoti.fi/2WxzUqj Słuchaj nas na iTunes: https://apple.co/2Jz7MPS Program LIVE w niedzielę od osiemnastej - https://jarock.pl/live/rock Rock i Borys to program o grach, technologii i życiu
In hour 3 of The Armstrong & Getty Show Dana Bash getting bashed by anti Israel protesters Wall Street Journal college rankings It's basically a tied presidential race Jack's indelicate question... See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
In hour 3 of The Armstrong & Getty Show Dana Bash getting bashed by anti Israel protesters Wall Street Journal college rankings It's basically a tied presidential race Jack's indelicate question... See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Happy (semi-belated) 1 Year Anniversary! To us! The Junk Food Supper Gang! We're celebrating in style, by reviewing an early Kiyoshi Kurosawa flick, Bumpkin Soup. It's a nudie-cutie-musical-comedy sort of thing, kind of. With lots of Brahms. We're also ranking all of the movies we've reviewed recently on the show, as per tradition! So #DonloydNow and enjoy this bite-sized Junk Food Supper. We got all this plus ice cream chats, emphysema chats, all your classic holes, how do they say Youngstown, anyhow?, the as-of-yet unnamed canonical ranking segment, don't you know Juzo?, heavy synth tones, mild piano vibes, brain farts, more Little Squeezers chats (Batman Calzone Edition), sneezes, gleeks and so much more!! Direct Donloyd Here Got a movie suggestion for the show, or better yet an opinion on next week's movies? Drop us a line at JFDPodcast@gmail.com. Or leave us a voicemail: 347-746-JUNK (5865). Add it to your telephone now! JOIN THE CONVERSATION! Also, if you like the show, please take a minute and subscribe and/or comment on us on iTunes, Stitcher, Blubrry or Podfeed.net. Check us out on Facebook and Twitter! We'd love to see some of your love on Patreon - it's super easy and fun to sign up for the extra bonus content. We'll attend European art music school for your love and support. With picks like these, you GOTTA #DonloydNow and listen in!
Trainer of Country Bumpkin Niall Quinn joins Mick Guerin ahead of The Grand National. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Get ready... GO! It's time for a new episode of The Wood Village is Always Greener, as we hop in our cars, hovercrafts, and planes, traveling back to the late '90s so we can reminisce on a beloved classic kart racer, Diddy Kong Racing. We take a DEEP dive looking back at everything this game has to offer, from its colorful cast, to its many scenic circuits, to all the attempted follow-ups that never quite left the starting line. (0:00:00) Intro/Main topic: Diddy Kong Racing (0:07:25) Development history (0:11:09) The characters (0:40:18) Gameplay (0:47:27) Battle mode (0:49:16) Adventure mode (0:59:07) Dino Domain (1:01:48) Snowflake Mountain (1:05:20) Sherbet Island (1:09:29) Dragon Forest (1:15:39) Wizpig's First Strike (1:21:14) Future Fun Land (1:24:31) Wizpig Strikes Back and other features (1:29:10) Diddy Kong Racing DS (1:44:48) The almost-sequels (1:56:23) Other media and merch (2:04:20) N64 vs. DS listening party (2:20:59) Final thoughts (2:22:41) Outro Amie Waters on Linktree Diddy Kong Racing's Krunch -- Designing For Frustration Donkey Kong Racing trailer Diddy Kong Pilot prototypes Diddy Kong Racing Adventure The Fast and the Furriest Mickey's Speedway USA beta maps Rare Racers pins at Fangamer DKR64.com
Hello again. This week we review the musical Wonka! One of us enjoyed it and one of us thought it was fresh fish k*k. Can you guess which is which? Shot for listening! 00:00 It starts here 00:48 Wonka review 20:58 Spoilers 39:13 Shoutouts & rant 41:18 Goodbye Tik Tok: https://www.tiktok.com/@bioscopebrasse Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bioscopebrassepodcast/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BioscopeBrasse Email: bioscopebrasse@gmail.com
More gruesome deaths await the third night of the full moon at Bumpkin Manor. Will Kev and Matt survive? Will the identity of the beast finally be revealed? Does any of this even matter? Who knows. Episode four of a four-part mini-series.Written, performed, produced, directed and edited by Kevin Chilvers and Matt Sanders. Artwork by Maisie Chilvers. Social media management by Laurie Stone. Some sound effects sourced from www.zapsplat.com Come find us on Instagram @catnoirpodcast . Geoff the Baker's word is to be taken on a case-by-case basis. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
@theculturedbumpkin (Jake Phillips) is a professional voice actor, podcaster, and is well versed in the literary arts. Alan and Jake exchange their introductions to the arts, what it means as a Southern man , and their experiences in the arts.Watch on YouTube: https://youtu.be/uTOl8o2v0qwMusic: Will Stewart - Nothing's RightSponsors: www.manscaped.comPromo Code: PORCHTALKwww.calderalab.com/porchPromo Code: PORCHSubscribe, rate, and review the show!Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/porch-talk/exclusive-contentAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy
The second day at Bumpkin Manor brings authoritative questions and stupid answers, whilst the second night brings more blood, death, and the return of the beast. But just what is it? A wild animal? Or are far more sinister forces at work? Episode three of a four-part mini-series. Written, performed, produced, directed and edited by Kevin Chilvers and Matt Sanders.Artwork by Maisie Chilvers. Social media management by Laurie Stone.Some sound effects sourced from www.zapsplat.com Come find us on Instagram @catnoirpodcast .Geoff the Baker's word is currently being contested. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Still on the first night of the full moon cycle, Kev and Matt seek answers in the rural Bumpkin Manor; home to an eccentric family of complete and incomplete Bumpkins. Is everyone really who they say they are and what of the beast calling out in the night? Episode two of a four-part mini-series. Written, performed, produced, directed and edited by Kevin Chilvers and Matt Sanders.Artwork by Maisie Chilvers. Social media management by Laurie Stone.Some sound effects sourced from www.zapsplat.com Come find us on Instagram @catnoirpodcast .Geoff the Baker is NOT a man of his word. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Following the arrival of a mysterious letter, Kev and Matt take to the road in search of Bumpkin Manor,and all the secrets that lie within. Join us for the first episode of a four-part mysterious mystery mini-series,where the words mysterious and mystery are likely to get used far too often.Written, performed, produced, directed and edited by Kevin Chilvers and Matt Sanders.Artwork by Maisie Chilvers. Social media management by Laurie Stone.Some sound effects sourced from www.zapsplat.com Come find us on Instagram @catnoirpodcast .Geoff the Baker is a man of his word. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Comedians Darren Carter and Mike Black catch up after Chrismas and talk: New Years Resolutions, Pushup Goals, Board Games, Standup comedy, sketch comedy, Rodney Dangerfield, Country Bumpkin activites, Salad Spinner, Mexican food, pizza and much much more!Bakersfield, CA Jan 12Brea, CA Feb 07Alameda, CA March 22-23Start That Party in your Earholes!Darren Carter, also known as "The Party Starter," is an American stand-up comedian and actor born in Fresno, California. He has been entertaining audiences for over 20 years with his unique style of comedy, which blends observational humor and physical comedy. Carter's comedy career began in the 1990s when he performed at open-mic nights in Los Angeles. He quickly gained recognition for his energetic stage presence and relatable humor, which led to appearances on popular TV shows such as "The Tonight Show with Jay Leno," "Comedy Central Presents," and "Premium Blend." Over the years, Carter has released several comedy albums, including "Shady Side" and "That Ginger's Crazy." He has also performed live all over the country, including at The Comedy Store, The Laugh Factory, and The Improv. The film “Born Again” and also his Dry Bar Comedy Special will be released this year. In addition to his comedy work, Carter has also acted in a number of films and TV shows, including "Be Cool," "Who Made The Potatoe Salad," and "Love Chronicles." He also hosts his own podcast, "Pocket Party," where he interviews fellow comedians and shares stories from his own life. Carter is known for his high-energy performances, infectious laughter, and ability to connect with audiences of all ages and backgrounds. He continues to tour and perform regularly, bringing laughter and joy to fans across the country. When Carter is home in Los Angeles, he can be found going to Guitar Center with his teenage son and watching him play every instrument in the building until they get kicked out.PLEASE SUBSCRIBE, Rate and Review to this podcast. THANK YOU!Have a great day and keep shining!
"On the planet of Zew It's a free-for-all voice competition starring the Bumpkins and their incredible singing abilities - but only one can win and become the 'Grand Bumpkin' whom everyone respects and loves. Who will win? and more importantly... Who really cares? Does anyone actually reads these?"CreditHost - CJ RhoneGuest - SaphireProducer - NuqadyEmail us wheel suggestions at definitelynotgoodpodcast@gmail.comFollow Us on social media:instagram.com/DNGPodFacebook.com/DNGPodTiktok.com/@DNGPodPlease give us a 5 star rating to help keep the show going. Thanks!
Halloween means pumpkins and corn mazes - what was your favorite Halloween memory? Also, DJ tells us abt his new skunk buddy. Then we get into cynicism and propaganda and to be honest we go pretty hard on Gen X. What happened you y'all?! Yuns were our heroes! Smdh We bring it home with our love of rats. Folks this is a doozy of an episode. We thank y'all for listening. Don't forget abt the discord or the Patreon. We got lots going on both places.
If you believe the Bible, Mason Mennenga thinks you're a backwards bumpkin. We discuss chronological snobbery, the anthropological decay of man, and find a great application for Episode 5 to Mr. Mennenga's latest tweet.
A sermon from Rev. Makayla Johnson!
Stand-up comedians Darren Carter and Mike Black talk catch phrases, Country Bumpkin activities, most popular names from when we were kids compared to 2023, tribute artists, OC Fair, Metallica, Stranger Things, and much much more!PLEASE SUBSCRIBE, Rate and Review to this podcast. THANK YOU!Have a great day and keep shining!
This week, Punch Punch Forever is hilarious, Reborn as a Vending Machine delights Kyle and confounds Luke, the new Superman cartoon is adorable, and the big end of CN group photo! (Opinions expressed by Kyle and Luke are their own and have no relevance to the opinions of any large animation studios we happen to work for.) Please leave us feedback and otherwise interact with us at http://www.facebook.com/kyleandluke!
Comedians Darren Carter and Mike Black talk: I Love the 90's Tour, Vanilla Ice, Young MC, Tone Loc, All for One, LA County Fair, Losing Things, Finding Things, Opening for Andrew Dice Clay, take Listener Questions and much much more!PLEASE SUBSCRIBE, Rate and Review to this podcast. THANK YOU!Have a great day and keep shining!
Comedian Darren Carter and comedian Mike Black talk: Tower Theatre, Fox Theatre, Ducks, geese, turkeys, gratitude, Poison boys, fog, Fresno, Sleepers, John Wick, Stripes, Bram Stoker's Dracula, breakfast cereals, trail mix Bumpkin activities, and much much more!PLEASE SUBSCRIBE, Rate and Review to this podcast. THANK YOU!Keep moving forward and do something positive for yourself everyday.Thanks for watching my comedy clips, Pocket Party Podcast and Vlogs. Have a great day! Every time you tell someone about me, share a video, or click the "Like" button It helps.So THANK YOU!Have a great day and keep shining!
A man reveals how he swapped his then-girlfriend's aggressive black cat with a well-behaved lookalike six years ago. He had joked about it before, but the idea eventually became a reality after the cat scratched him. He found an identical cat that was already litterbox trained and more friendly, adopted it, and settled it in his girlfriend's apartment while taking the original cat to a shelter. Fast forward six years to see if she finds out.Sometimes your pets aren't just pets, but symbols of your relationship. In a previous relationship, I felt like my hamster was happy when their relationship was good and sick when their relationship was on the rocks. The hamster funeral is shocking:) Click below to support the show. It helps so much!Alexi's Email List, Music and Podcast extras here!
Today: It is completely insane and we are sorry, songs from your childhood that only you remember, Tim Noah and Ramblin' Rod, red paint in Portland, UFO sightings, World Cup is finished, the golden glove, and have an excellent day!
Today, Nikita speaks with Perry Tuttle in part 2 of a 2 part series. Listen as Perry shares his amazing life journey.
If the Giants miss the playoffs, is that a referendum on Brian Daboll? Plus, if Zach Wilson were not the No. 2 overall pick from last year's draft, would he still be on the Jets? Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Today, Nikita speaks with Perry Tuttle in part 1 of a 2 part series. Listen as Perry shares his amazing life journey.
Women making bad decisions. Cáel to the rescue? What?By FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the podcast at Steamy Stories.-There is nothing wrong being a Lucky Bastard. It is wrong to rely on it-(Monday later)Buffy had finally dismissed me when Katrina summoned me to her office. Ignoring me getting into an altercation…in the Full-Blood gym…yet again, I had a good day. No property damage, lost items, or physically damaged employees. Ragged by most people’s standards, but a good day for me at Havenstone. I still had a chance to walk out under my own power.Katrina motioned me to come to her desk. Upon my arrival, she slid a tablet over to me with a single icon on the screen. I tapped it. Aya’s face appeared as the vid-mail began. She was glowing. There was tent fabric in the background so I had no idea of her geographic location. I didn’t care.“Hey!” she squeaked. “I’m doing great at camp. I met three girls who are as small as me and we’ve formed our own squad; the Fatal Squirts.” I chuckled.I had encouraged her to steal strength from her perceived weaknesses. She had to believe in herself then take that as she built up her skills. I had faith in her when no one else did.“I showed some of my councilors a picture of you. I think you would get into trouble if you came here. I want you to come, but I thought it was only fair to warn my favorite bed-buddy,” she giggled.“Send me a message when you can. I understand there will be a delay as the messages have to be physically delivered. I know you are doing okay. If not, hold off your vengeance until I can return and guard your back. I love you, Cáel. Be well,” she smiled as her picture faded into darkness.“Ah damn,” I whispered. Aya looked good; confident, upbeat and spirited. “Katrina, can I make a message for her right now?” I begged.“Of course,” she gave me an approving tilt of the head. “I think the courier is still in the building.”“Cool. What do I do?” I urged.“Use the webcam; make a message and forward it to my computer,” Katrina told me. “I’ll take it from there.” I made the message, pretty much updating her on my latest exploits with limited editing. Aya was a surprisingly innocent yet worldly 9 year old.Much of that came from being Katrina’s and Desiree’s niece; mainly Katrina’s. It gave her access to tidbits of sensitive data from time to time. Not so much she was a real security threat. Enough so that she got some things confused; like what sex was truly about. I felt in my soul she’d be a great Amazon one day. I didn’t remind her of that much. She had enough pressure for a kid her age.“You are seeing Oneida now?” a frosty voice unnerved me. It was Buffy.“Fuck,” I jumped up. “Damn Buffy, stop sneaking up on me like that, or I’m going to start thinking you are a stalker.”“I am stalking you, Einstein,” Buffy menaced.“I’m glad we got that out of the way,” I rolled my eyes. “Oh look! It’s Daphne coming to my rescue. I am so out of here,” I exulted. I edged passed Buffy, slipped her attempt to grab my arm and raced for the ‘new hires’ at the elevator.“Get back here, you Cock-sucker!” Buffy howled as she chased me down.May miracles never cease. Daphne, Violet and Tigger formed an Amazon (I wasn’t sure if I could consider them 'human’ yet) shield between my frail form and the hulking brute that was Buffy.“Calm down, Buffy,” Daphne pleaded. “He fought Elsa today; again.”“Get out of my way,” Buffy snarled.“Thank God you stopped her,” I huffed to Dora. “I hope to she never finds out that I soaped up Elsa’s entire body while we were sharing a shower together.” Daphne turned and gave me an incredulous look.“Cáel, you are a Dumb-ass,” Daphne sighed. Looking to Buffy as she stood aside. “Have at.”“Are you mental?” Fabiola chimed in. The elevator doors finally opened, Buffy shoved me in and the rest of the posse followed. Helena joined us at the last second.“He’s taunting me,” Buffy responded to Fabiola while using her middle finger to poke my chest. “At this rate I am going to have to devastate a dozen male escorts so I can make it the remaining the 69 more days until he’s mine again.”“Is he really that good?” Paula wondered. Buffy twisted around to confront her.“He hammered me so hard, I thought he’d dislocate my hips. Later, we spent an entire hour, naked, wrapped up in each other’s bodies with no actual penetration; touching, tasting and whispered affections,” Buffy curled her lip. “He’s better than you could possibly imagine.”“You realize we have 27 seconds left, right?” I reminded Buffy.“Really?” Buffy’s head snapped back to me. I nodded and she jumped my bones. She had her hand down my pants, pulling on my rod, and the other grabbing the back of my head to deepen our kiss.For my part, I had my left hand on her breast and the right down the back of her pants, fondling a panty-covered ass cheek. In a culture where you summoned a male, ordered him to perform and he did so the same exact way he’d done a dozen times before, what Buffy and I were doing didn’t make sense.The two of us didn’t give up an ounce of control yet meshed perfectly. Our pleasure was obvious, vocal and we didn’t give a damn about the crowd around us. Buffy and I had created our own little lust-bubble. The chimer went off. We settled down and straightened up our clothes.“Fuck it all; that’s some good dicking,” Buffy mumbled. That was an inside joke between me, Timothy, my big, gay, buff tattoo-artist roommate, and the few women he chose to share that descriptive with; 'a good dicking’. We tumbled out of the elevator.“Is he always like that?” Fabiola mumbled.“He’s a whole lot better with his clothes off,” Buffy sneered at Fabiola. Sometimes I’m a super-selfish bastard; I want life to cut me some slack. Waiting for us was Oneida…in biker clothing. That would have merely been bad, dangerous and creepy except I was dressed in work clothes.I was planning to meet some of the guys (all two of them) for some after-work drinks. The encounter went from not-good to horribly awkward. Oneida had checked up on me, been told how I got to and from work as well as when I left. Unfortunately, she hadn’t checked my social calendar; mainly because I didn’t keep one; sophomore year mistake.If a girl is in your apartment, she will find the thing you don’t want her to find…every single time. I burned my diary and unfriended everybody after that final, hospital-resulting episode.“Hi,” I greeted Oneida. She’d figured out she’d screwed up something fierce. “What bike do you use? I have a Specialized STSE hybrid. Maybe we can use some paths one weekend.”I was trying to diffuse her embarrassment. We were two bikers talking about bikes. Nothing wrong with that.“I have a Specialized Source…” she got out then realized how BAD that sounded. She had the exact same bike as me…how bizarre? Unless you had somebody come down and take a look at what I bicycle I used.Time to save the day.“Do you want to make a date for 6:30 am on Saturday?” I suggested. “Provided this wacky place hasn’t offed, or misplaced me by then.”“Ah; that would be nice,” Oneida rebounded happily. “The date, that is.”“Whoa Oneida, what are you doing with this guy?” Brian derided me as he walked up. I wanted to say, 'Brian, you’ve insulted a princess of the Amazon people. Please continue making an ass of yourself and give Trent and Khalid my regards’. I didn’t.“This is Cáel Nyilas. He’s a real player,” Brian smirked. “You can do better than him.”Oh yeah, Oneida and Brian were co-workers; 'new hires’ in Acquisitions.“Brian, it took you three days to even use my name,” Oneida gave Brian a neutral stare. “I love Cáel. He saved my life and he sees the real me.” For the love of all that’s holy, someone shoot me in the head right now. I could hear the nearly subsonic growls emanating from Buffy.Brian looked at me, laughed and went to put an arm around Oneida’s shoulder. After all, if I could pick her up, it should be effortless for him to take her away, right? Dumb-shit. Laughing at me was okay. Laughing at…then I noticed the two chicks in black leather standing about doing their best (until a second ago) to go unnoticed.Cáel had gotten away with such familiarity because Cáel had risked his life to save their Princess. Brian Fung? He barely knew her name and they worked together. These weren’t even SD chicks; they were something else. My guess was Arinniti House Guard. Did Katrina’s House Epona have a house guard?Sure, I imagine they did. They were probably with the rest of House Epona where ever they lived. It wasn’t like the whole kit and caboodle was here in NYC. That would have been foolish. If Caitlyn, Aya’s mom, had a security issue, she called us at Havenstone HQ, less than four kilometers away. Without a doubt, Elsa would stop by and kick ass for her.I gave Brian this much; he had a working set of eyes. The second those two harbingers of death began closing in, Brian back-pedaled.“Hey Brian, let’s go grab some drinks,” I offered him a graceful exit.“Sounds good,” Brian tried to sound cool.“Oneida, take care,” I nodded to my new romantic stalker. “Ladies,” to my 'new hire’ crew. “Buffy,” to my sometimes boss, “remember you are still hot for a…mature chick.”“You are going die a long, torturous and extremely painful death,” Buffy sizzled.“What? Are you going to make me eat your cooking?” I laughed.Buffy didn’t articulate a counter before Brian and I slipped outside.“Cáel, who was that woman?” Brian whispered.“Which one? You need to be more specific. My erotic malfeasances are terribly confusing.”“The one you insulted,” Brian said. “The last one you insulted,” he clarified.“Buffy. She’s one of my bosses,” I grinned. “She loves me. She’s even promised to play the bagpipes at my funeral. Personally I think that’s because she doesn’t want to risk anyone hearing me pounding on the coffin lid, trying to get out.”“You are not going to make it the full 84 days with that attitude,” Brian lectured me.“Trent has already been promoted,” Brian continued. “I am regularly referred to as indispensable in my work reviews. Felix works closely with Ms. Pharos at all times. You seem to be the only one of us having…issues with Havenstone. Hell, they even shot you and you sat back and took it. I doubt your complacent attitude impressed anyone much.”No mention of poor Khalid. How quickly they forget. Trent had been 'promoted’ to Southeast Asia alright. I looked it up; there are around 10,000 islands between Indonesia and the Philippines. Sure some were small spits of land with a few trees. I had little doubt one of the good-sized one was a jungle of a different sort.Certainly Executive Services sent Trent’s belongings somewhere. I’d never tried to find out. What would I have done with the knowledge? Brooke didn’t care and I didn’t know his family. Brian and I went to the same yuppie bar as last time. I was with Brian this time, so I abandoned him as quick as I could.Why? At the far end of the bar, talking the bar-back was my Delivery Girl; aka the person who did the home liquor delivery to Libra’s place. Half way down the bar, she sensed me looking at her. The bar-back followed her gaze. He wasn’t happy with me. DG simply didn’t recognize me so I held up my valise over my groin.Confusion; surprise; acknowledgment that despite our surroundings, I wasn’t worried about being seen with her. She had her hand truck; she had to make a front door delivery this time.“Remember me?” I smiled.“Cáel Nyilas; the Pillow Guy,” she snickered. “How did that work out for you?”The bar-back was broadcasting his displeasure at some upper class shmuck cutting in on his action. DG caught that.“Jason, this is Cáel,” she introduced me. “We last met under unusual circumstances.”“What kind of name is Cáel?” Jason remarked.“An unfortunate one,” I snorted. “You try explaining to your kindergarten teacher that it is 'c-a-e-l’. Of course, I wasn’t 'Bomophoto’ either. She had it worse than I did.”Jason searched me out to see if I was pulling one over on him. I wasn’t. Bomo and I bonded over our linguistic misfortune. She moved to Santa Fe in the third grade. I wonder if she grew up to be hot looking. Oink.“I’ll give you that,” he chuckled. “Why did you get branded?”“Mom was Irish, my Dad was in love with her so I got the cultural emersion, minus the Guinness,” I shrugged. “By the way…” I looked back to the lady.“Katy Lee Baker,” she batted her eyelashes. We shook hands.“How did it go?” I picked up her question. “Sex, chopped fruit, your drinks, more sex and back to the clinic before eleven.”“Have you talked to them since?” Katy inquired somewhat seductively.“Perhaps. I don’t like to kiss and tell,” I evaded.“I’m curious because two of the three arrived five minutes before you did and they appear somewhat unhappy with you right now,” she smirked. “You can look over your shoulder if you don’t believe me.” Sure enough, there was Felix, Brian, Brooke, Libra and…I think her name was Gene. I waved then turned back to my current two conversationalists.“So Jason, what do you like to do?” I asked the guy.“Huh; what? I work,” he replied.“I mean bike, try ethnic food, go to the gym; stuff like that,” I teased him.“I work six days a week…but usually one or two are afternoon shifts. Me and some buddies play some pick-up basketball,” Jason told me.“Great. You’d pick a sport I suck at,” I set the bait. If Jason thought I sucked, he’d invite me to play. That’s how it worked. I was pretty good at basketball considering I’d spent the last four years playing with girls; on the court. Girls play some mean ball. They also didn’t shy away from putting an elbow into my nuts if they felt like it.“I’m not sure I live in a neighborhood you’d be comfortable visiting,” Jason threw up a roadblock. I had him on this one. I showed him my ID. It had the right address; wrong apartment number. “Shit dude, that place is about as rough as my home turf.”“I get paid a quarter million a year to taste test for hexafluoride in Chinese imports,” I joked.“Really?” Katy chuckled.“It’s a growth industry; if you consider tumors to be growth,” I was faux-serious.“Mr.; Cáel,” Jason looked over my shoulder. “I think one of those chicks is about to come over here and kill you. You best hop to it.”“Which one? The brunette, or the russet-colored (Libra)?” I inquired.“The brunette wants attention and the russet wants to push a red hot poker up your ass,” Jason gave me his experienced opinion. Heading over there was going to be 'fun’.“Give me a call some time, Jason. Nice to see you again, Katy Lee,” I waved good-bye.“You know the staff here?” Libra spat.“That was the girl who delivered the liquor to your place, Libra,” I sighed. “I said 'hi’.”“It takes you an awful lot of words to say 'hello’,” Brian gave a false smile. Libra was positioned next to Brian. Her anger with me plus his 'sexy’ put her there.Brooke shifted as I joined their chair-less center table. She was putting enough distance between us to show everyone she was independent yet close enough to give warning signs to other woman that I was in her sights, if not her outright possession. I was better looking than Brooke had counted on. More 'fun’ was coming down the pipeline.Gene was here on another date with Felix, or so she thought. Poor Gene. Felix was most likely an excellent fuck. What she didn’t appreciate was that Felix was not only a competitor, he was the kind of athlete who had to win. Second place was what you called the first loser. Gene was about to be educated in this personal idiocentricity.Now that I was on stage, Felix made his move on Brooke. Gene? He’d let her in on a three-way if he was feeling personally Hernán Cortés-like. Felix had to have Brooke. I hadn’t dumped Brooke, according to Gene, so he wasn’t getting my castoffs; he was stealing my prize. The flaw in this plan was my whole viewpoint on monogamy. I didn’t much care for it. Brooke was a grown woman and could make her own choices.Felix made his move. Damn, he was smooth. He had Brooke wrapped up and pulled tight without Gene even being aware she’d been dumped. Enter the train wreck named Nicole. She was the criminal defense attorney who I’d fucked in a stall in the women’s bathroom of this place. She hadn’t tried to contact me and I hadn’t worried about her. Hook-ups were like that.She’d been close by, respecting Brooke’s signs and not stopping by to say hello. Then Felix launched his master plan and I was suddenly freed up. Nicole had gotten a rough fucking and liked it, I could tell.“Cáel Nyilas,” Nicole swooped in. “How have you been?”“The normal. Menace to society, disrespectful of authority and being annoying to random strangers,” I teased. “You?”“I’m a lawyer fighting the irresistible lure of evil. The usual,” she joked back. “What have you been doing wrong? As I recall, last time you were doing everything right?”Yes, a good dicking indeed. I was going to relate this encounter to Timothy just so he could shoot me with his Nerf gun. He’d shoot me anyway, but it was nice of me to give him an excuse from time to time.“I’ve been sending sexually suggestive letters to ADA Feinstein,” I offered. “Does that count?”“Oh really?” she seemed surprised. “Why don’t you come by my table real quick and let me introduce you to some of my colleagues.” I wasn’t going to be rude.“Gang, this is Nicole,” I introduced her to my table. “She’s an attorney at a prestigious law firm that probably has more dead partners than living ones and offices in Papua New Guinea and a few dozen other places you’ve never heard of. I’ll be right back.”“You are a nut,” Nicole bumped me as we weaved our way to her buddies. “Ladies, this is Cáel Nyilas. I think I mentioned him once.” By the looks on their faces, once had been enough. “This is Zelda, Marsha, Phyllis, and Rivka; Rivka Feinstein, ADA for New York County,” (that’s Manhattan for us hicks).“Ah crap,” I exclaimed. That wasn’t what they expected.“I confess,” I looked at Nicole, “I saw the name in an article on the back of the Village Voice. Sadly, they had R. Feinstein and I stupidly assumed it was a guy.”“Oh my God! You’re gay?” Zelda and Phyllis despaired.“While my life would a whole lot easier if I was, I’m straight; not even bi-curious. My roommate, Timothy; never Tim; is and he was reading it while I was working out. It sort of stuck in my mind,” I admitted.“How did my name come up in conversation?” Rivka inquired.“Cáel is a pathological liar,” Nicole teased me.“Not true,” I protested. “I’m allergic to excessive honesty. That’s totally different.”“I’d like to put you on the witness stand,” Zelda gave me those bedroom eyes.“You and about a 150 other women,” I groaned.“150?” Rivka choked.“Yep. The rest already know I’m guilty,” I muttered.“Are you of weak moral fiber?” Phyllis joined the game. We were all having a blast.“Sorry, but no. I’m saving up for some. Currently I’m without morals…or scruples. Any suggestion which one I should purchase first?”“You are a great guy,” Rivka snickered. “Why aren’t you dating somebody?”“Shall we revisit my lack of morals and scruples?” I answered.“So you are a player?” Nicole nudged me. She wanted to play alright.“How to put this…I’m a wonderful lover and a lousy boyfriend,” I told them.“I was an eighteen year old virgin. In the past four years, I have betrayed every woman I’ve ever dated, save one; my first love,” I explained.“Why didn’t you betray her?” Phyllis prodded. “Don’t tell me she’s dead.”“No, she’s fine,” I replied. “She was the one who told me to date other women.”“That’s harsh,” Zelda commiserated. She thought Kimberly had dumped me.“Oh no,” I corrected her. “We stayed together until I graduated last month. Four of the best years of my life. When she told me to date other women it was because I was killing her. I have a voracious sexual appetite and she was desperate for a full night’s sleep.”“Do you ever go home alone?” Marsha joined in.“Does leaving a woman’s house at 1 a.m. count?” I requested.“Did she throw you out?” Rivka interrogated.“No. She and her sister were exhausted so I picked up my roommate and left,” I exaggerated.“Wait!” Nicole held up her hand. “Sisters…and you told us your roommate was gay?”“Morals and scruples,” I repeated. “See, I was dating one sister and the other sister wanted a date so I talked my gay roommate into being my wingman so I wouldn’t end up sleeping with them both. It didn’t work out so well. The second, older sister was horny, so my guy pretended to pass out.”“Have you ever considered you are a horrible person?” Marsha studied me.“Yes. Not only have I thought about, I’ve been told that a few dozen times. It usually is accompanied by 'I’m going to kill you’, or 'you had better make it up to me’.”“Have you ever been hurt?” Phyllis appeared concerned.“My body is a roadmap of poor decision making,” I responded.“What was the worst thing to ever happen to you?” Rivka grinned. Her ability to be deceptively pretty had to have made her a frightening lawyer.“When they were happening, I was a bit more concerned with what might happen to me as opposed to rating them,” I informed her.“Except for being shot with an arrow, being chased around naked with a hot poker and having my bed dowsed with lighter fluid while I was still in it were probably the worst,” I nodded. “I’ve been stabbed a few times, tasered, occasionally thrown out of a window not on the first floor and had bookcase dropped on me once, so I consider myself a connoisseur of ex-girlfriend vengeance.”“Have you ever been involved with a police proceeding?” Rivka became a tad bit more intense.“Nah,” shook my head. “I had it coming. As you said, I’m kind of a horrible guy.”“Domestic violence is no joking matter,” Nicole also became serious.“That’s unfair,” I countered. “I’m not so slavishly devoted to the law that I’d ruin some girl’s life because I was a total bastard.”“Domestic Violence laws are supposed to protect the innocent from the abusive,” I added. “I haven’t lied to you about my misadventures, but you should understand I chose to handle most of my problems myself. By the looks on your faces, you are about as disappointed in me as the policewoman I am currently seeing. This is who I am and I’m not going to apologize for it.”“Mind you, I’m not some gun-toting, roughneck Libertarian,” I clarified. “I believe in law, order and the justice system. If someone pulls out an AK-47 on me at a corner bodega, I’m making 9-1-1 my bitch on speed-dial. I don’t want to be a hero, or fulfill my organ donor card. I just don’t equate that to a girl kneeing me in the nuts because I slept with her best friend in her lingerie.”There was a pause as the ladies looked around. They were making an assessment of how much trouble I’d cause versus how much fun I would be. They all smiled at me. They always do.“Who was wearing the lingerie?” Zelda smirked.“I’ve worn women’s lingerie before, but it really wasn’t my thing,” I mused.“I’ll go through a lot for good sex,” I winked. “It was my girlfriend’s lingerie on her best friend.”“Wait,” Rivka noted. “Didn’t the best friend know you were dating the first girl?”“Yeah. I’m not sure why that never stops them,” I shrugged. “Around the fifth time I stopped worrying about it.”“Wow, do you have any idea how many women you’ve been with?” Rivka asked.“Do you always use protection?” Phyllis piled on.“Yes; 223 as of Friday. I’m hoping to break 300 before work replaces me with those guys from 'Hamster Dance’,” I told them. “And yes, I always use protection.”“I may not know where my partner has been, but I know where I’ve been and it scares me,” I snickered. “That’s why I always carry ten.”“Ten?” Nicole snorted. “Do you regularly check the expiration date, or are you that ambitious?”“Ambitious? I’d carry more except it’s hard to hide more than ten in a wallet; I’ve tried,” I sighed.“Have you ever run out?” Marsha snickered. Our snickering, chuckling and laughter were drawing stares.“Run out? Hell, I’ve gone door to door in a women’s dormitory at 2 a.m. trying to find some,” I related. “Ran into an old girlfriend doing that.” I slipped into a dreamy smile.“Why do I think that despite it being 2 a.m. in her dorm with you seeking a condom for use with a different woman, she wasn’t pissed?” Rivka giggled.“Oh God no,” I waved off. “She was freaking furious. That was some of the most intense 'I’m lonely and it’s all your fault’ sex I have ever been through.”“You have names for different kinds of sex?” Nicole was almost crying from laughing so hard.“Oh yeah. The first time I run across a different sexual experience, I slap a name on it so when it happens again, I know what to do,” I explained.“Isn’t every woman unique?” Zelda sniffled.“That sounds nice in a love song, but 'no’,” I smiled. “Women, and men, have a finite number things; needs and responses. Women can have different erogenous zones, but there all on the human body. Admittedly, it can be a bit like predicting the weather at times. It is not a perfect system by any means.”“What’s my 'thing’ then?” Nicole taunted. She didn’t think I could do it.“Sex has to be an accomplishment with you, Nicole,” I informed her. “You need to be engaged mentally as much as anything else. You need a poet who runs marathons. Otherwise you end up staring at the ceiling after sex wondering what better use you could have made of your time.”Silence. That was the norm for that kind of revelation. Women hated to be laid bare. They hated being misunderstood even more.“Nicole?” Rivka prodded her friend. Nicole remained silent. I knew that look.“Nicole, I’m bad news. Wouldn’t you prefer to keeps thing simple?” I hoped.I was wrong to hope. I kept praying they would go 'hey, great, mindless sex; let’s not blow it’, but they never did. I hated giving lame erotic encounters, despite the guarantee of anguish that always followed.“We could go out on a date and see how that works?” Nicole offered. Doom.“Cáel Nyilas; I’m in the book and I work for Havenstone Commercial Investments,” I stupidly replied. “You probably have a killer workload were as I spot-check children’s toys for WMDs. Give me a call when you have a night free.” How was it going to turn out? Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex; let’s make a commitment; you cheating fuck-nut! I hate you.Girls weren’t predictable; I was.“Cáel, we are going out to dinner, if you remember who you are supposed to be with,” Libra seethed as she and the others passed Nicole’s table.“Yup, gotta go where I’m not wanted. Nice seeing you again, Nicole,” I grinned. “Ladies, I hope it was a pleasure. It was for me. Good night.”Dinner; was; bad. Felix, hemorrhoid that he was, squashed Gene’s feeble attempts to draw him back to her as he made crystal clear that he was taking Brooke home; to fuck her into Paradise…instead of letting her go home with me. Problem being; Brooke wasn’t mine to take; never had been.For the first time in his life, I thought Brian was about to be screwed. Libra was past uber-bitchy by the fifth glass of wine. Brian held a pair of Jokers and thought he was the boss, like always. Libra had four Queens and would be screaming my name when she orgasmed; Brian was sexually proficient. He was also a misogynist, I was now sure, and Libra was going to make him squeal.Then she was going to grab up her clothes, storm out of Brian’s place and never want to talk with him again. It wasn’t that I was that unforgettable. I was that I knew what she wanted and had given it to her and not getting it Saturday afternoon while Brooke did was frosting her ass. What did that mean for me?For the first time in a long, long time, I was pissed with another guy. Trent really wasn’t worth my time, but Felix was about to cross my here-until-now unforeseen line of what guys did to girls. It was dawning on me that this was the result of me. Someone was doing something wrong to a girl because of me. It wasn’t my fault. Felix was being a jerk.That would be of cold comfort for Brooke. We split up after dinner. I didn’t have the heart to pick up Gene, who was easy prey right then. It was too much like what Felix thought he was doing to me. I took a cab to Havenstone, changed clothing and biked home. I barely had dinner ready for Timothy when he came through the door.“That’s not a look I’m used to seeing,” he remarked.“I should have beaten someone up,” I frowned, “but I didn’t and now some girl; Brooke; is going to have her heart kicked because of it.”“Was it something you did?” Timothy asked.“No. There is this guy at work who is using her to alpha-dog me,” I muttered.“Brooke?” Timothy was confused. “You hardly like her. What a sleaze (Felix). If it was Odette, first I’d slap you around for still being here. Then we’d go get him.”“I’m not even sure why I feel bad about this,” I grunted. “As you said, I hardly like her.”“It is called a conscience, Dimwit,” Timothy snorted. That didn’t help much. Conscience? Man, I’d stop my bike to run across a highway to move a tortoise off the road. I used to feed some of the Bolingbrook wild hares during the winter. I did humiliating crap for charity. I was never mean to a girl; only dishonest and unfaithful.Introspection got me nowhere. I was a cad. I’d been happy to be a cad for four years. I was going to be damned if my post-college life was going to be any different; all 68 remaining days of it. In my bedroom I discovered Odette had moved in during my absence. I doubted Timothy had been ignorant of all the stuff she deposited. What was going on with my life?I woke up when I heard keys in the door. It was a bit past eleven. I got up to check and sure enough, it was Odette. Timothy had given her a key. Odette had lived through a harrowing night, her boss was a dick and some of the customers were pure hell. I cuddled with her on the sofa while she unwound then we went to bed together. We didn’t have sex…(Tuesday)Around 1 a.m. I miraculously found myself awake and alert in bed. Odette was happily dreaming away. Something was gnawing at the back of my mind. I put a name to the emotion and a face to the fear. I called Brooke.“Hey Brooke,” I greeted her eight tries later. She was tired of sending me to voice mail.“What do you want?” she answered in a voice devoid of soul.“Fuck if I know,” I replied. “I suddenly woke up from a sound sleep thinking of you.”“I’m not interested,” she sighed.“I’m going to go out on a limb here. You don’t want to talk to anyone yet you want someone to help you understand what you are going through,” I gambled.That created a tiny tear in her shroud of depression. After five minutes, I got her to give me her address. She told me she wouldn’t answer the door. I told her I at least had to try. That got me to her place, 90 seconds of knocking got me inside and four minutes later, we were lying in bed with her sobbing on my chest.Half an hour later, she offered me sex. I told her to stop tempting me and if she only wanted me for sex, I wanted to be paid in chocolate. She giggled, took a few deep breaths and fell to sleep. Wow, I was in two different women’s beds in one night and not having sex in either. My watch alarm went off at 4:50 a.m. That meant no 'Marilyn’ call tonight.“Mmmm…” Brooke moved toward wakefulness. “Work?”“Afraid so,” I yawned.“We haven’t had sex,” he reminded me. I couldn’t stop being me.“That’s not why I came over here, Brooke,” I rolled onto my side so that our bodies were very close.“Never think I don’t want to have sex with you, but that’s not why I showed up last night,” I continued.“Why did you show up then?” she worried.“I have no clue. I’m like Felix; a player. Listen Brooke, I don’t consider you my woman,” I stated.“We had sex; we are lovers, but we’ve been thrown together by dire misfortune, not out of any common thread,” I reminded her. “I don’t expect you to have any sense of loyalty to me.” That phrase freed her up philosophically. That meant she could fuck me and not feel obliged to consider and discard any future for us because there was no realistic future that socially glued us into any acceptable form.“So I needed a shoulder to cry on and you showed up,” she mused.“Brooke, you are independent and strong-willed. The next guy you chose will be your choice,” I led her along. “Felix though; Felix is a serious player and he felt the need to add you to his list of conquests. I saw it happening and did nothing. Now I feel like crap for sitting back and ignoring the consequences.”“You knew Felix would turn me into a hash mark?” Brooke seemed depressed, not angry.“I knew he was trying to get at me,” I confessed. “He didn’t accept that you and I aren’t an item. A blonde co-worker; a high ranking supervisor actually; treated him like a bug in the communal showers yesterday while keeping close contact with me. Felix had to win. He had to show me he is the top dog.”“And I was the prize?” Brooke moped.“Not to me,” I whispered. Brooke looked hurt. “You are a woman. While you would look delectable in a big red ribbon, that’s not who you are. I don’t keep hash marks. I have a thing called a heart cord and it is solely for my use. Each binding represents a liaison; like a Quipus; an Incan memory knot.”Brooke really didn’t care. It sounded neat, it was romantic and the act was not demeaning to her. I could savor the memory of our encounter as long as I didn’t share it with my buddies. She wasn’t one of 'those’ girls.“You are very intelligent,” she murmured seductively.She didn’t care if I was the reincarnation of Benjamin Franklin, or some schmo in Afghanistan who made his living digging up (hopefully) spent ordinance of battlefields. Smoking hot, sexy, well-educated debutantes like Brooke could fuck finely-sculpted, 'smart’ guys like me. She could delude herself that I was rapidly upwardly mobile. My turn.“Brooke, I don’t want to get mixed up about us,” I evaded. 'Us’? There was no 'us’ and we both knew it. “If I caved in right now, I’m not sure I could forgive myself.” Yes I could.“I just want to feel like someone gives a damn about me,” Brooke whimpered. Good acting. We wrestled around; me trying to leave, but clearly not wanting to, while she physically enticed me.We ended up, me on top, pinning her wrists to either side of her head. Her legs were trapped between mine.“Make it up to me…please,” she pouted. She humped her pelvic bone playfully against my cock. “I know you want to help me out.” Good word usage on her part.“Brooke, this isn’t going to happen,” I gritted my teeth in frustration. Yes, it was going to happen. Her right leg began exerting steady pressure against my 'weak’ left leg. It slowly 'surrendered’ to her advance. Now she had on leg on the outside. My right leg held out a little longer yet Brooke was persistent.Now she could ground her finely groomed landing strip against my pulsating rod. I really, really wanted to fuck her now. I took my hands off her wrists, turned them into fists and placed the beneath each of her underarms.“Damn you,” I cursed her. Brooke was gyrating her crotch all over mine.With her hands released, Brooke could leverage her body up and trap my cockhead between her labia. They were thoroughly soaked with her honey so after my 'capture’ she drew more and more of my length in until I was completely incased. Brooke had won! She knew she’d won. Fuck Felix and his hash marks. I didn’t care so why should she?I made on last energetic yet futile effort to get away. Oddly, Brooke somehow end on top at the end of my exertion. I must be an awful wrestler…“No you don’t,” Brooke purred only millimeters from my lips. “You are not getting away.” That was Brooke tossing good ole Felix under the emotional bus.Felix the Player? She’d chalk it up to too much to drink and the hype being more than the man. How was this possible? Look at her. She’d thrown a known sexual dynamo down on her bed and was working his shaft over every G-spot in her vagina. Brooke still preferred a long, rough fucking to get her off. At the moment, she need reassurance more.Felix most assuredly made Brooke ride him. He kept her perpendicular to his hips and came up to suckle her teats when he wanted to, or watch them bounce as he lay back. He was great at sex, no doubt. The girl had to scream and howl; forgetting every other male she was ever with and making every other guy she’d be with later an automatic failure. To him, that was how he rated success.This resulted in me keeping Brooke close so I could make quick kisses to her very close lips. She’d playfully pull away; to put me in my place and remind me she was in charge; then she’d initiate the kiss. Our love-making was more rhythmic; less frantic. She was getting close.“Next…next time you fuck Felix,” I gasped. “Tell him…”“What makes; makes you think I’d; every sleep with him; again?” Brooke got feisty.“I bet he was good in bed and now that you have his measure,” I assured her. “You can take what pleasure you want and leave.” Brooke liked that. It was the whole independent woman thing.“Won’t you be jealous?” she panted.“I cannot constantly keep up with your sexual desires, Brooke,” I grunted. “I’ve been neglecting Libra.” Oh yeah, Libra. The girl she, Brooke, initially set me up with. Her Vassar classmate.“What about Felix,” she huffed and huffed. She was real close.“Off-handedly comment that he’s developing male pattern baldness,” I grinned. “Just to fuck with his head.” Felix was gorgeous. Better yet, Felix knew he was gorgeous. Hit him where it hurts. Brooke tried to giggle, but the surge of triumph overcame her and off she went. The problem was I was getting close and I didn’t have a condom on.“Brooke,” I inhaled deeply. She’d come to rest on my chest. “I’m about to…”“Oh,” she sighed happily. She reversed to the side as she slithered down my body. My cock went down her throat and I started petting her flank. Brooke wasn’t the very best, but, man o man, she was going to town on my dick.There was no doubt in my mind that her vaginal secretions didn’t bother her. I had to rush the experience because if I was late to work, Constanza make me stand beside the targets while she shot at them. If she was really pissed, she’d have me hold up targets in front me instead. I shot off, Brooke caught it all in her mouth then spit it into two tissues before tossing them in the trash.I caught her look. Trent and now Felix made her swallow. I didn’t care; which was yet another choice Brooke was free to make when making love to me. I jumped her. We had a little, tickle-nibble fight that ended in some kisses. I had to leave and Brooke made sure she was poised extra-sexy the last time I turned around to say goodnight and cut off the lights.“Ah damn,” I moaned before I left. I didn’t really like Brooke yet, by choosing to engage her in sex, I had accepted the task of making her happy. That was the reason Felix and I were going to fight. He’d use another human being to strike at me instead striking at me directly. To me, this was more than low character, it was an insult to my lifestyle.Felix should have checked his baggage at the door. Competing for the same lady was fine; even fun. Picking one to punish another…not cool. I had to think about my response as I barely made it in for my Constanza time. Wisely, I left my baggage at the door. These were firearms we were dealing with; a danger to me and the people around me.I was in my biking outfit today. More looks. The decision was that I’d go for my Glock-22, a 38 Ruger LCR back-up, a South Korean-made shotgun that looked like an M-16 and a very unhealthy looking device called a Heckler & Koch UMP 40 (which I had never even heard of). Wait…it got worse. I was scheduled for knife fighting training at 3 p.m.; every day for the foreseeable future.Constanza didn’t want to help me breath, much less train. That was okay. I left my shirt in the weapons’ room so the second I hit the shooting booth Magical Amazon Fey appeared to impart their wisdom, and body shapes to me. Oh God! I dropped a clip between my feet. The two ladies nearly head-butted in a race to get.The loser frowned. The winner was able to determine my ankles were strong, my calves were implant free; guys do that occasionally, and my thigh was definitely recovering. Without a doubt, my rod was happy to feel her hand. I retrieved my magazine from her unresisting hand. Then I did some shooting. With three clips I proved to be faster yet less accurate, more accurate yet slower and lastly a balance between the two.I wasn’t better than yesterday. It was yesterday. I did marginally worse with the .38 Ruger, better with the shotgun and I had a blast with the H&K. Was I accurate? NO…but this killing machine was loads of fun to fire off a clip at full-auto. According to 'my’ Amazons I looked so adorable pouting when I was told I’d fired off the last magazine. I repeat; loads of fun.Amazons are a dedicated martial culture, I was definitely a delicious male bouncing up and down gleefully while begging 'Fuck Me! Fuck Me!’ Not actually. I was enthusiastically asking for another clip, but I could tell how my words were being echoed inside their brains.“Behave yourself, Male!” Constanza snapped angrily. I fell on my knees, hands presented in supplication.“Please, please, please, please,” I begged.“Oh, give him another magazine,” two of my shooting companions requested.“I can’t believe we are in the same unit,” Constanza sneered, “rubbing against him like over-drunk un-casted.” Hmmm, that probably meant teenagers; before they chose a profession.“Constanza, they are all aggressive, dominant members of the Host,” I rose (verbally) to their defense. “They are not afraid of their sexuality and they are certainly not afraid of me. What are they doing wrong? They are helping me concentrate (totally false) on the task at hand. I would think you would be pleased that I’m receiving such encouragement, meaning you are more likely to succeed at your task.”“You don’t even know why you are here,” she glared.“I imagine you are here for the same reason I am; to serve our superiors,” I replied. “Do you think that I don’t want to sleep in an extra hour…,” I looked to my new buddies, “Okay, I used to want to sleep in that extra hour, but the point is the same.”“These are our hours. Why not make the most of it as opposed to letting the circumstances make us miserable?” I reasoned.“Constanza,” Naomi, the only shooting buddy to give me a name so far, “you are out of line. He is on our side now and he has the battle scars to prove it.”“Never,” Constanza growled out her challenge.“That is not your decision to make,” Naomi met that challenge. “He is down here. He is courageous, loyal and undaunted.”“Besides, if you hate him that much, getting a hunting license for him like the rest of us.”Fantastic (sarcasm), I was popular with Amazonia’s professional military.“Just remember, I get to hunt you ladies right back,” I grinned. They thought that was funny. “If I capture you, you are mine all-weekend long; yummy. Then, on Monday, it’s back to normality and me running for my life.”“Do you really think you can take any of us?” Naomi chuckled. The others laugh. Even Constanza was darkly amused.“Let me see…I was never a Boy Scout, I’m not ex-military, or even a backwoodsman,” I mused. “Still, I never thought I’d be shot with an arrow, or stabbed with a spear either, so I’m actually upbeat about my chances.”“Besides, I’m going to wear a black bear suit as camouflage.” Pause. “Damn it. I probably shouldn’t have told you that,” I grimaced. More chuckles.“I’ve watched um…Dual Survival…most of one episode…I’ve been so lost in the wilderness to the point I couldn’t see the road…I’ve made love to a Park Ranger…I’ve been so drunk that I hunted a grown moose with a ballpeen hammer…that’s about it for me.”“I am going to enjoy being the first one to catch you,” Naomi purred.“Be careful, Naomi,” I cautioned her. “I’m part lemur. It was the same experiment that made Constanza part Tasmanian Devil; those are some cranky-ass bitches.”“Are you really going to run fast?” another Amazon teased me.“Hell yeah,” I nodded as I stood. No extra magazines for me today. “I’m going to pick some compass point and run at it with everything I have.”“You are lying,” Naomi nudged me. They weren’t pissed; this was 'warfare’ thus deception was not only allowed, it was expected.“Without a hint of regret,” smiled at her. We were suddenly really close again. “I may run, I may hide, or I may double back. That is the prey’s advantage.” This was fine to the ladies around me. I was prey. I was fine with being prey. I was having fun being prey which made the promised encounter to be new and exciting.Amazons didn’t hunt turtles; they hunted dangerous things that hunted other things. Was I dangerous? Constanza was a living testimonial of that; the scar just above her left elbow. This didn’t imply respect and acceptance; no way, no how. It was impossible to believe I would ever replace one of…craptastic. Katrina was too damn smart; far smarter than me for sure.I wouldn’t have figured it out this soon except for something Oneida said; 'The Ash Men’. Who were they and why was calling someone that a good thing? A few more live-fires with a bit of instruction. With all the 'sisters’ willing to show me improved stance and firing techniques, Constanza felt the desire to be in another room.As I was finally departing for my real job, an Amazon with clear Amerindian blood, put a hand to my chest before I could exit out the hallway door.“How much of disaster is he?” she asked Naomi. I seriously thought about doing a takedown then I reasoned I really didn’t want to see Traska’s teary-eyed face looking down at my shattered form.“He’s passable for a beginner,” Naomi answered.“What are you talking about?” I protested. “I’m freaking awesome. I point the boom-stick at…whatever you call them…pull that trigger-thingy and the bullets go in a direction that doesn’t hurt me. Honestly, this crap is easy.” The copper chick grabbed my chin quick as a snake.“Your opinion was not solicited,” she menaced, “you ignorant toad-turd.” On second thought; I hit her. I’m pretty quick too. My fist connected with her diaphragm because she was not only not expecting me to lash out, she masked my movements by having her right limb holding my chin. She recoiled, I assumed my boxing stance and Naomi clubbed me down from behind.Let’s not forget who, what and where I was. I was dogpiled, yanked up then had Bitchy Amerindian chick pop me twice in the gut.“You are going to be caned for that,” she hissed.“Fuck you!” I shouted back. Fist to the head. That was going to leave a mark.“I look forward to hearing you scream,” she threatened.“Huh? What? You are still here? Something swished past me and I thought it was you leaving,” I joked.“Do you want to die?” Naomi hissed in my ear.“Let me go and we’ll all find out,” I replied.“Let him go,” Bitchy chick ordered. They let me go. That was not a good sign.“I’m Cáel Nyilas. I; ah…I’m from the Magyars,” I introduced myself.“I don’t care,” she glared.“Fine. Do you want to take this to the mats upstairs, or do you prefer we fight in a room full of firearms?” I asked.“This won’t take long,” she assumed a stance I’d never seen before. I didn’t know its official name, but it had 'pain’ written all over it.“A little room here?” I prodded the five Amazons standing behind me. My important unknown assailant waved them back to the walls. Constanza was livid, so I could already count this as a victory of sorts. My opponent swiveled on the ball of her left foot. It was a feint. I feinted too; I acted like I was going to fight. I ran away as she made her low, sweeping kick.I vaulted the table before she could catch me. Now she had a dilemma. If she came over the top, she’d be limiting her mobility and I was gambling hers was a very fluid style. If she moved around the table…as she did, it gave me time to grab my Glock and some ammo and keep running. I put a bullet in the chamber right as Constanza and her two feminazis drew there 9mms.I was staring down the sight of my .40 S&W Glock at copper chick. Oh, she wasn’t afraid in the least. She was pissed.“Right, or left?” I inquired.“Put the gun down, or you are dead!” Constanza commanded.“I’m confused,” I stated calmly. “Do I do what she says (copper chick); she is clearly someone important, or do I do what you say, Constanza?”“PUT IT DOWN!” Constanza screamed. Copper chick waved the guns down slowly.“Right, or left?” Copper chick inquired. (dead word spoken) St. Marie,“ she gave me her name.Mistress of the Golden Mare had to be something so not good."Right, or l
Women making bad decisions. Cáel to the rescue? What?By FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the podcast at Steamy Stories.-There is nothing wrong being a Lucky Bastard. It is wrong to rely on it-(Monday later)Buffy had finally dismissed me when Katrina summoned me to her office. Ignoring me getting into an altercation…in the Full-Blood gym…yet again, I had a good day. No property damage, lost items, or physically damaged employees. Ragged by most people’s standards, but a good day for me at Havenstone. I still had a chance to walk out under my own power.Katrina motioned me to come to her desk. Upon my arrival, she slid a tablet over to me with a single icon on the screen. I tapped it. Aya’s face appeared as the vid-mail began. She was glowing. There was tent fabric in the background so I had no idea of her geographic location. I didn’t care.“Hey!” she squeaked. “I’m doing great at camp. I met three girls who are as small as me and we’ve formed our own squad; the Fatal Squirts.” I chuckled.I had encouraged her to steal strength from her perceived weaknesses. She had to believe in herself then take that as she built up her skills. I had faith in her when no one else did.“I showed some of my councilors a picture of you. I think you would get into trouble if you came here. I want you to come, but I thought it was only fair to warn my favorite bed-buddy,” she giggled.“Send me a message when you can. I understand there will be a delay as the messages have to be physically delivered. I know you are doing okay. If not, hold off your vengeance until I can return and guard your back. I love you, Cáel. Be well,” she smiled as her picture faded into darkness.“Ah damn,” I whispered. Aya looked good; confident, upbeat and spirited. “Katrina, can I make a message for her right now?” I begged.“Of course,” she gave me an approving tilt of the head. “I think the courier is still in the building.”“Cool. What do I do?” I urged.“Use the webcam; make a message and forward it to my computer,” Katrina told me. “I’ll take it from there.” I made the message, pretty much updating her on my latest exploits with limited editing. Aya was a surprisingly innocent yet worldly 9 year old.Much of that came from being Katrina’s and Desiree’s niece; mainly Katrina’s. It gave her access to tidbits of sensitive data from time to time. Not so much she was a real security threat. Enough so that she got some things confused; like what sex was truly about. I felt in my soul she’d be a great Amazon one day. I didn’t remind her of that much. She had enough pressure for a kid her age.“You are seeing Oneida now?” a frosty voice unnerved me. It was Buffy.“Fuck,” I jumped up. “Damn Buffy, stop sneaking up on me like that, or I’m going to start thinking you are a stalker.”“I am stalking you, Einstein,” Buffy menaced.“I’m glad we got that out of the way,” I rolled my eyes. “Oh look! It’s Daphne coming to my rescue. I am so out of here,” I exulted. I edged passed Buffy, slipped her attempt to grab my arm and raced for the ‘new hires’ at the elevator.“Get back here, you Cock-sucker!” Buffy howled as she chased me down.May miracles never cease. Daphne, Violet and Tigger formed an Amazon (I wasn’t sure if I could consider them 'human’ yet) shield between my frail form and the hulking brute that was Buffy.“Calm down, Buffy,” Daphne pleaded. “He fought Elsa today; again.”“Get out of my way,” Buffy snarled.“Thank God you stopped her,” I huffed to Dora. “I hope to she never finds out that I soaped up Elsa’s entire body while we were sharing a shower together.” Daphne turned and gave me an incredulous look.“Cáel, you are a Dumb-ass,” Daphne sighed. Looking to Buffy as she stood aside. “Have at.”“Are you mental?” Fabiola chimed in. The elevator doors finally opened, Buffy shoved me in and the rest of the posse followed. Helena joined us at the last second.“He’s taunting me,” Buffy responded to Fabiola while using her middle finger to poke my chest. “At this rate I am going to have to devastate a dozen male escorts so I can make it the remaining the 69 more days until he’s mine again.”“Is he really that good?” Paula wondered. Buffy twisted around to confront her.“He hammered me so hard, I thought he’d dislocate my hips. Later, we spent an entire hour, naked, wrapped up in each other’s bodies with no actual penetration; touching, tasting and whispered affections,” Buffy curled her lip. “He’s better than you could possibly imagine.”“You realize we have 27 seconds left, right?” I reminded Buffy.“Really?” Buffy’s head snapped back to me. I nodded and she jumped my bones. She had her hand down my pants, pulling on my rod, and the other grabbing the back of my head to deepen our kiss.For my part, I had my left hand on her breast and the right down the back of her pants, fondling a panty-covered ass cheek. In a culture where you summoned a male, ordered him to perform and he did so the same exact way he’d done a dozen times before, what Buffy and I were doing didn’t make sense.The two of us didn’t give up an ounce of control yet meshed perfectly. Our pleasure was obvious, vocal and we didn’t give a damn about the crowd around us. Buffy and I had created our own little lust-bubble. The chimer went off. We settled down and straightened up our clothes.“Fuck it all; that’s some good dicking,” Buffy mumbled. That was an inside joke between me, Timothy, my big, gay, buff tattoo-artist roommate, and the few women he chose to share that descriptive with; 'a good dicking’. We tumbled out of the elevator.“Is he always like that?” Fabiola mumbled.“He’s a whole lot better with his clothes off,” Buffy sneered at Fabiola. Sometimes I’m a super-selfish bastard; I want life to cut me some slack. Waiting for us was Oneida…in biker clothing. That would have merely been bad, dangerous and creepy except I was dressed in work clothes.I was planning to meet some of the guys (all two of them) for some after-work drinks. The encounter went from not-good to horribly awkward. Oneida had checked up on me, been told how I got to and from work as well as when I left. Unfortunately, she hadn’t checked my social calendar; mainly because I didn’t keep one; sophomore year mistake.If a girl is in your apartment, she will find the thing you don’t want her to find…every single time. I burned my diary and unfriended everybody after that final, hospital-resulting episode.“Hi,” I greeted Oneida. She’d figured out she’d screwed up something fierce. “What bike do you use? I have a Specialized STSE hybrid. Maybe we can use some paths one weekend.”I was trying to diffuse her embarrassment. We were two bikers talking about bikes. Nothing wrong with that.“I have a Specialized Source…” she got out then realized how BAD that sounded. She had the exact same bike as me…how bizarre? Unless you had somebody come down and take a look at what I bicycle I used.Time to save the day.“Do you want to make a date for 6:30 am on Saturday?” I suggested. “Provided this wacky place hasn’t offed, or misplaced me by then.”“Ah; that would be nice,” Oneida rebounded happily. “The date, that is.”“Whoa Oneida, what are you doing with this guy?” Brian derided me as he walked up. I wanted to say, 'Brian, you’ve insulted a princess of the Amazon people. Please continue making an ass of yourself and give Trent and Khalid my regards’. I didn’t.“This is Cáel Nyilas. He’s a real player,” Brian smirked. “You can do better than him.”Oh yeah, Oneida and Brian were co-workers; 'new hires’ in Acquisitions.“Brian, it took you three days to even use my name,” Oneida gave Brian a neutral stare. “I love Cáel. He saved my life and he sees the real me.” For the love of all that’s holy, someone shoot me in the head right now. I could hear the nearly subsonic growls emanating from Buffy.Brian looked at me, laughed and went to put an arm around Oneida’s shoulder. After all, if I could pick her up, it should be effortless for him to take her away, right? Dumb-shit. Laughing at me was okay. Laughing at…then I noticed the two chicks in black leather standing about doing their best (until a second ago) to go unnoticed.Cáel had gotten away with such familiarity because Cáel had risked his life to save their Princess. Brian Fung? He barely knew her name and they worked together. These weren’t even SD chicks; they were something else. My guess was Arinniti House Guard. Did Katrina’s House Epona have a house guard?Sure, I imagine they did. They were probably with the rest of House Epona where ever they lived. It wasn’t like the whole kit and caboodle was here in NYC. That would have been foolish. If Caitlyn, Aya’s mom, had a security issue, she called us at Havenstone HQ, less than four kilometers away. Without a doubt, Elsa would stop by and kick ass for her.I gave Brian this much; he had a working set of eyes. The second those two harbingers of death began closing in, Brian back-pedaled.“Hey Brian, let’s go grab some drinks,” I offered him a graceful exit.“Sounds good,” Brian tried to sound cool.“Oneida, take care,” I nodded to my new romantic stalker. “Ladies,” to my 'new hire’ crew. “Buffy,” to my sometimes boss, “remember you are still hot for a…mature chick.”“You are going die a long, torturous and extremely painful death,” Buffy sizzled.“What? Are you going to make me eat your cooking?” I laughed.Buffy didn’t articulate a counter before Brian and I slipped outside.“Cáel, who was that woman?” Brian whispered.“Which one? You need to be more specific. My erotic malfeasances are terribly confusing.”“The one you insulted,” Brian said. “The last one you insulted,” he clarified.“Buffy. She’s one of my bosses,” I grinned. “She loves me. She’s even promised to play the bagpipes at my funeral. Personally I think that’s because she doesn’t want to risk anyone hearing me pounding on the coffin lid, trying to get out.”“You are not going to make it the full 84 days with that attitude,” Brian lectured me.“Trent has already been promoted,” Brian continued. “I am regularly referred to as indispensable in my work reviews. Felix works closely with Ms. Pharos at all times. You seem to be the only one of us having…issues with Havenstone. Hell, they even shot you and you sat back and took it. I doubt your complacent attitude impressed anyone much.”No mention of poor Khalid. How quickly they forget. Trent had been 'promoted’ to Southeast Asia alright. I looked it up; there are around 10,000 islands between Indonesia and the Philippines. Sure some were small spits of land with a few trees. I had little doubt one of the good-sized one was a jungle of a different sort.Certainly Executive Services sent Trent’s belongings somewhere. I’d never tried to find out. What would I have done with the knowledge? Brooke didn’t care and I didn’t know his family. Brian and I went to the same yuppie bar as last time. I was with Brian this time, so I abandoned him as quick as I could.Why? At the far end of the bar, talking the bar-back was my Delivery Girl; aka the person who did the home liquor delivery to Libra’s place. Half way down the bar, she sensed me looking at her. The bar-back followed her gaze. He wasn’t happy with me. DG simply didn’t recognize me so I held up my valise over my groin.Confusion; surprise; acknowledgment that despite our surroundings, I wasn’t worried about being seen with her. She had her hand truck; she had to make a front door delivery this time.“Remember me?” I smiled.“Cáel Nyilas; the Pillow Guy,” she snickered. “How did that work out for you?”The bar-back was broadcasting his displeasure at some upper class shmuck cutting in on his action. DG caught that.“Jason, this is Cáel,” she introduced me. “We last met under unusual circumstances.”“What kind of name is Cáel?” Jason remarked.“An unfortunate one,” I snorted. “You try explaining to your kindergarten teacher that it is 'c-a-e-l’. Of course, I wasn’t 'Bomophoto’ either. She had it worse than I did.”Jason searched me out to see if I was pulling one over on him. I wasn’t. Bomo and I bonded over our linguistic misfortune. She moved to Santa Fe in the third grade. I wonder if she grew up to be hot looking. Oink.“I’ll give you that,” he chuckled. “Why did you get branded?”“Mom was Irish, my Dad was in love with her so I got the cultural emersion, minus the Guinness,” I shrugged. “By the way…” I looked back to the lady.“Katy Lee Baker,” she batted her eyelashes. We shook hands.“How did it go?” I picked up her question. “Sex, chopped fruit, your drinks, more sex and back to the clinic before eleven.”“Have you talked to them since?” Katy inquired somewhat seductively.“Perhaps. I don’t like to kiss and tell,” I evaded.“I’m curious because two of the three arrived five minutes before you did and they appear somewhat unhappy with you right now,” she smirked. “You can look over your shoulder if you don’t believe me.” Sure enough, there was Felix, Brian, Brooke, Libra and…I think her name was Gene. I waved then turned back to my current two conversationalists.“So Jason, what do you like to do?” I asked the guy.“Huh; what? I work,” he replied.“I mean bike, try ethnic food, go to the gym; stuff like that,” I teased him.“I work six days a week…but usually one or two are afternoon shifts. Me and some buddies play some pick-up basketball,” Jason told me.“Great. You’d pick a sport I suck at,” I set the bait. If Jason thought I sucked, he’d invite me to play. That’s how it worked. I was pretty good at basketball considering I’d spent the last four years playing with girls; on the court. Girls play some mean ball. They also didn’t shy away from putting an elbow into my nuts if they felt like it.“I’m not sure I live in a neighborhood you’d be comfortable visiting,” Jason threw up a roadblock. I had him on this one. I showed him my ID. It had the right address; wrong apartment number. “Shit dude, that place is about as rough as my home turf.”“I get paid a quarter million a year to taste test for hexafluoride in Chinese imports,” I joked.“Really?” Katy chuckled.“It’s a growth industry; if you consider tumors to be growth,” I was faux-serious.“Mr.; Cáel,” Jason looked over my shoulder. “I think one of those chicks is about to come over here and kill you. You best hop to it.”“Which one? The brunette, or the russet-colored (Libra)?” I inquired.“The brunette wants attention and the russet wants to push a red hot poker up your ass,” Jason gave me his experienced opinion. Heading over there was going to be 'fun’.“Give me a call some time, Jason. Nice to see you again, Katy Lee,” I waved good-bye.“You know the staff here?” Libra spat.“That was the girl who delivered the liquor to your place, Libra,” I sighed. “I said 'hi’.”“It takes you an awful lot of words to say 'hello’,” Brian gave a false smile. Libra was positioned next to Brian. Her anger with me plus his 'sexy’ put her there.Brooke shifted as I joined their chair-less center table. She was putting enough distance between us to show everyone she was independent yet close enough to give warning signs to other woman that I was in her sights, if not her outright possession. I was better looking than Brooke had counted on. More 'fun’ was coming down the pipeline.Gene was here on another date with Felix, or so she thought. Poor Gene. Felix was most likely an excellent fuck. What she didn’t appreciate was that Felix was not only a competitor, he was the kind of athlete who had to win. Second place was what you called the first loser. Gene was about to be educated in this personal idiocentricity.Now that I was on stage, Felix made his move on Brooke. Gene? He’d let her in on a three-way if he was feeling personally Hernán Cortés-like. Felix had to have Brooke. I hadn’t dumped Brooke, according to Gene, so he wasn’t getting my castoffs; he was stealing my prize. The flaw in this plan was my whole viewpoint on monogamy. I didn’t much care for it. Brooke was a grown woman and could make her own choices.Felix made his move. Damn, he was smooth. He had Brooke wrapped up and pulled tight without Gene even being aware she’d been dumped. Enter the train wreck named Nicole. She was the criminal defense attorney who I’d fucked in a stall in the women’s bathroom of this place. She hadn’t tried to contact me and I hadn’t worried about her. Hook-ups were like that.She’d been close by, respecting Brooke’s signs and not stopping by to say hello. Then Felix launched his master plan and I was suddenly freed up. Nicole had gotten a rough fucking and liked it, I could tell.“Cáel Nyilas,” Nicole swooped in. “How have you been?”“The normal. Menace to society, disrespectful of authority and being annoying to random strangers,” I teased. “You?”“I’m a lawyer fighting the irresistible lure of evil. The usual,” she joked back. “What have you been doing wrong? As I recall, last time you were doing everything right?”Yes, a good dicking indeed. I was going to relate this encounter to Timothy just so he could shoot me with his Nerf gun. He’d shoot me anyway, but it was nice of me to give him an excuse from time to time.“I’ve been sending sexually suggestive letters to ADA Feinstein,” I offered. “Does that count?”“Oh really?” she seemed surprised. “Why don’t you come by my table real quick and let me introduce you to some of my colleagues.” I wasn’t going to be rude.“Gang, this is Nicole,” I introduced her to my table. “She’s an attorney at a prestigious law firm that probably has more dead partners than living ones and offices in Papua New Guinea and a few dozen other places you’ve never heard of. I’ll be right back.”“You are a nut,” Nicole bumped me as we weaved our way to her buddies. “Ladies, this is Cáel Nyilas. I think I mentioned him once.” By the looks on their faces, once had been enough. “This is Zelda, Marsha, Phyllis, and Rivka; Rivka Feinstein, ADA for New York County,” (that’s Manhattan for us hicks).“Ah crap,” I exclaimed. That wasn’t what they expected.“I confess,” I looked at Nicole, “I saw the name in an article on the back of the Village Voice. Sadly, they had R. Feinstein and I stupidly assumed it was a guy.”“Oh my God! You’re gay?” Zelda and Phyllis despaired.“While my life would a whole lot easier if I was, I’m straight; not even bi-curious. My roommate, Timothy; never Tim; is and he was reading it while I was working out. It sort of stuck in my mind,” I admitted.“How did my name come up in conversation?” Rivka inquired.“Cáel is a pathological liar,” Nicole teased me.“Not true,” I protested. “I’m allergic to excessive honesty. That’s totally different.”“I’d like to put you on the witness stand,” Zelda gave me those bedroom eyes.“You and about a 150 other women,” I groaned.“150?” Rivka choked.“Yep. The rest already know I’m guilty,” I muttered.“Are you of weak moral fiber?” Phyllis joined the game. We were all having a blast.“Sorry, but no. I’m saving up for some. Currently I’m without morals…or scruples. Any suggestion which one I should purchase first?”“You are a great guy,” Rivka snickered. “Why aren’t you dating somebody?”“Shall we revisit my lack of morals and scruples?” I answered.“So you are a player?” Nicole nudged me. She wanted to play alright.“How to put this…I’m a wonderful lover and a lousy boyfriend,” I told them.“I was an eighteen year old virgin. In the past four years, I have betrayed every woman I’ve ever dated, save one; my first love,” I explained.“Why didn’t you betray her?” Phyllis prodded. “Don’t tell me she’s dead.”“No, she’s fine,” I replied. “She was the one who told me to date other women.”“That’s harsh,” Zelda commiserated. She thought Kimberly had dumped me.“Oh no,” I corrected her. “We stayed together until I graduated last month. Four of the best years of my life. When she told me to date other women it was because I was killing her. I have a voracious sexual appetite and she was desperate for a full night’s sleep.”“Do you ever go home alone?” Marsha joined in.“Does leaving a woman’s house at 1 a.m. count?” I requested.“Did she throw you out?” Rivka interrogated.“No. She and her sister were exhausted so I picked up my roommate and left,” I exaggerated.“Wait!” Nicole held up her hand. “Sisters…and you told us your roommate was gay?”“Morals and scruples,” I repeated. “See, I was dating one sister and the other sister wanted a date so I talked my gay roommate into being my wingman so I wouldn’t end up sleeping with them both. It didn’t work out so well. The second, older sister was horny, so my guy pretended to pass out.”“Have you ever considered you are a horrible person?” Marsha studied me.“Yes. Not only have I thought about, I’ve been told that a few dozen times. It usually is accompanied by 'I’m going to kill you’, or 'you had better make it up to me’.”“Have you ever been hurt?” Phyllis appeared concerned.“My body is a roadmap of poor decision making,” I responded.“What was the worst thing to ever happen to you?” Rivka grinned. Her ability to be deceptively pretty had to have made her a frightening lawyer.“When they were happening, I was a bit more concerned with what might happen to me as opposed to rating them,” I informed her.“Except for being shot with an arrow, being chased around naked with a hot poker and having my bed dowsed with lighter fluid while I was still in it were probably the worst,” I nodded. “I’ve been stabbed a few times, tasered, occasionally thrown out of a window not on the first floor and had bookcase dropped on me once, so I consider myself a connoisseur of ex-girlfriend vengeance.”“Have you ever been involved with a police proceeding?” Rivka became a tad bit more intense.“Nah,” shook my head. “I had it coming. As you said, I’m kind of a horrible guy.”“Domestic violence is no joking matter,” Nicole also became serious.“That’s unfair,” I countered. “I’m not so slavishly devoted to the law that I’d ruin some girl’s life because I was a total bastard.”“Domestic Violence laws are supposed to protect the innocent from the abusive,” I added. “I haven’t lied to you about my misadventures, but you should understand I chose to handle most of my problems myself. By the looks on your faces, you are about as disappointed in me as the policewoman I am currently seeing. This is who I am and I’m not going to apologize for it.”“Mind you, I’m not some gun-toting, roughneck Libertarian,” I clarified. “I believe in law, order and the justice system. If someone pulls out an AK-47 on me at a corner bodega, I’m making 9-1-1 my bitch on speed-dial. I don’t want to be a hero, or fulfill my organ donor card. I just don’t equate that to a girl kneeing me in the nuts because I slept with her best friend in her lingerie.”There was a pause as the ladies looked around. They were making an assessment of how much trouble I’d cause versus how much fun I would be. They all smiled at me. They always do.“Who was wearing the lingerie?” Zelda smirked.“I’ve worn women’s lingerie before, but it really wasn’t my thing,” I mused.“I’ll go through a lot for good sex,” I winked. “It was my girlfriend’s lingerie on her best friend.”“Wait,” Rivka noted. “Didn’t the best friend know you were dating the first girl?”“Yeah. I’m not sure why that never stops them,” I shrugged. “Around the fifth time I stopped worrying about it.”“Wow, do you have any idea how many women you’ve been with?” Rivka asked.“Do you always use protection?” Phyllis piled on.“Yes; 223 as of Friday. I’m hoping to break 300 before work replaces me with those guys from 'Hamster Dance’,” I told them. “And yes, I always use protection.”“I may not know where my partner has been, but I know where I’ve been and it scares me,” I snickered. “That’s why I always carry ten.”“Ten?” Nicole snorted. “Do you regularly check the expiration date, or are you that ambitious?”“Ambitious? I’d carry more except it’s hard to hide more than ten in a wallet; I’ve tried,” I sighed.“Have you ever run out?” Marsha snickered. Our snickering, chuckling and laughter were drawing stares.“Run out? Hell, I’ve gone door to door in a women’s dormitory at 2 a.m. trying to find some,” I related. “Ran into an old girlfriend doing that.” I slipped into a dreamy smile.“Why do I think that despite it being 2 a.m. in her dorm with you seeking a condom for use with a different woman, she wasn’t pissed?” Rivka giggled.“Oh God no,” I waved off. “She was freaking furious. That was some of the most intense 'I’m lonely and it’s all your fault’ sex I have ever been through.”“You have names for different kinds of sex?” Nicole was almost crying from laughing so hard.“Oh yeah. The first time I run across a different sexual experience, I slap a name on it so when it happens again, I know what to do,” I explained.“Isn’t every woman unique?” Zelda sniffled.“That sounds nice in a love song, but 'no’,” I smiled. “Women, and men, have a finite number things; needs and responses. Women can have different erogenous zones, but there all on the human body. Admittedly, it can be a bit like predicting the weather at times. It is not a perfect system by any means.”“What’s my 'thing’ then?” Nicole taunted. She didn’t think I could do it.“Sex has to be an accomplishment with you, Nicole,” I informed her. “You need to be engaged mentally as much as anything else. You need a poet who runs marathons. Otherwise you end up staring at the ceiling after sex wondering what better use you could have made of your time.”Silence. That was the norm for that kind of revelation. Women hated to be laid bare. They hated being misunderstood even more.“Nicole?” Rivka prodded her friend. Nicole remained silent. I knew that look.“Nicole, I’m bad news. Wouldn’t you prefer to keeps thing simple?” I hoped.I was wrong to hope. I kept praying they would go 'hey, great, mindless sex; let’s not blow it’, but they never did. I hated giving lame erotic encounters, despite the guarantee of anguish that always followed.“We could go out on a date and see how that works?” Nicole offered. Doom.“Cáel Nyilas; I’m in the book and I work for Havenstone Commercial Investments,” I stupidly replied. “You probably have a killer workload were as I spot-check children’s toys for WMDs. Give me a call when you have a night free.” How was it going to turn out? Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex; let’s make a commitment; you cheating fuck-nut! I hate you.Girls weren’t predictable; I was.“Cáel, we are going out to dinner, if you remember who you are supposed to be with,” Libra seethed as she and the others passed Nicole’s table.“Yup, gotta go where I’m not wanted. Nice seeing you again, Nicole,” I grinned. “Ladies, I hope it was a pleasure. It was for me. Good night.”Dinner; was; bad. Felix, hemorrhoid that he was, squashed Gene’s feeble attempts to draw him back to her as he made crystal clear that he was taking Brooke home; to fuck her into Paradise…instead of letting her go home with me. Problem being; Brooke wasn’t mine to take; never had been.For the first time in his life, I thought Brian was about to be screwed. Libra was past uber-bitchy by the fifth glass of wine. Brian held a pair of Jokers and thought he was the boss, like always. Libra had four Queens and would be screaming my name when she orgasmed; Brian was sexually proficient. He was also a misogynist, I was now sure, and Libra was going to make him squeal.Then she was going to grab up her clothes, storm out of Brian’s place and never want to talk with him again. It wasn’t that I was that unforgettable. I was that I knew what she wanted and had given it to her and not getting it Saturday afternoon while Brooke did was frosting her ass. What did that mean for me?For the first time in a long, long time, I was pissed with another guy. Trent really wasn’t worth my time, but Felix was about to cross my here-until-now unforeseen line of what guys did to girls. It was dawning on me that this was the result of me. Someone was doing something wrong to a girl because of me. It wasn’t my fault. Felix was being a jerk.That would be of cold comfort for Brooke. We split up after dinner. I didn’t have the heart to pick up Gene, who was easy prey right then. It was too much like what Felix thought he was doing to me. I took a cab to Havenstone, changed clothing and biked home. I barely had dinner ready for Timothy when he came through the door.“That’s not a look I’m used to seeing,” he remarked.“I should have beaten someone up,” I frowned, “but I didn’t and now some girl; Brooke; is going to have her heart kicked because of it.”“Was it something you did?” Timothy asked.“No. There is this guy at work who is using her to alpha-dog me,” I muttered.“Brooke?” Timothy was confused. “You hardly like her. What a sleaze (Felix). If it was Odette, first I’d slap you around for still being here. Then we’d go get him.”“I’m not even sure why I feel bad about this,” I grunted. “As you said, I hardly like her.”“It is called a conscience, Dimwit,” Timothy snorted. That didn’t help much. Conscience? Man, I’d stop my bike to run across a highway to move a tortoise off the road. I used to feed some of the Bolingbrook wild hares during the winter. I did humiliating crap for charity. I was never mean to a girl; only dishonest and unfaithful.Introspection got me nowhere. I was a cad. I’d been happy to be a cad for four years. I was going to be damned if my post-college life was going to be any different; all 68 remaining days of it. In my bedroom I discovered Odette had moved in during my absence. I doubted Timothy had been ignorant of all the stuff she deposited. What was going on with my life?I woke up when I heard keys in the door. It was a bit past eleven. I got up to check and sure enough, it was Odette. Timothy had given her a key. Odette had lived through a harrowing night, her boss was a dick and some of the customers were pure hell. I cuddled with her on the sofa while she unwound then we went to bed together. We didn’t have sex…(Tuesday)Around 1 a.m. I miraculously found myself awake and alert in bed. Odette was happily dreaming away. Something was gnawing at the back of my mind. I put a name to the emotion and a face to the fear. I called Brooke.“Hey Brooke,” I greeted her eight tries later. She was tired of sending me to voice mail.“What do you want?” she answered in a voice devoid of soul.“Fuck if I know,” I replied. “I suddenly woke up from a sound sleep thinking of you.”“I’m not interested,” she sighed.“I’m going to go out on a limb here. You don’t want to talk to anyone yet you want someone to help you understand what you are going through,” I gambled.That created a tiny tear in her shroud of depression. After five minutes, I got her to give me her address. She told me she wouldn’t answer the door. I told her I at least had to try. That got me to her place, 90 seconds of knocking got me inside and four minutes later, we were lying in bed with her sobbing on my chest.Half an hour later, she offered me sex. I told her to stop tempting me and if she only wanted me for sex, I wanted to be paid in chocolate. She giggled, took a few deep breaths and fell to sleep. Wow, I was in two different women’s beds in one night and not having sex in either. My watch alarm went off at 4:50 a.m. That meant no 'Marilyn’ call tonight.“Mmmm…” Brooke moved toward wakefulness. “Work?”“Afraid so,” I yawned.“We haven’t had sex,” he reminded me. I couldn’t stop being me.“That’s not why I came over here, Brooke,” I rolled onto my side so that our bodies were very close.“Never think I don’t want to have sex with you, but that’s not why I showed up last night,” I continued.“Why did you show up then?” she worried.“I have no clue. I’m like Felix; a player. Listen Brooke, I don’t consider you my woman,” I stated.“We had sex; we are lovers, but we’ve been thrown together by dire misfortune, not out of any common thread,” I reminded her. “I don’t expect you to have any sense of loyalty to me.” That phrase freed her up philosophically. That meant she could fuck me and not feel obliged to consider and discard any future for us because there was no realistic future that socially glued us into any acceptable form.“So I needed a shoulder to cry on and you showed up,” she mused.“Brooke, you are independent and strong-willed. The next guy you chose will be your choice,” I led her along. “Felix though; Felix is a serious player and he felt the need to add you to his list of conquests. I saw it happening and did nothing. Now I feel like crap for sitting back and ignoring the consequences.”“You knew Felix would turn me into a hash mark?” Brooke seemed depressed, not angry.“I knew he was trying to get at me,” I confessed. “He didn’t accept that you and I aren’t an item. A blonde co-worker; a high ranking supervisor actually; treated him like a bug in the communal showers yesterday while keeping close contact with me. Felix had to win. He had to show me he is the top dog.”“And I was the prize?” Brooke moped.“Not to me,” I whispered. Brooke looked hurt. “You are a woman. While you would look delectable in a big red ribbon, that’s not who you are. I don’t keep hash marks. I have a thing called a heart cord and it is solely for my use. Each binding represents a liaison; like a Quipus; an Incan memory knot.”Brooke really didn’t care. It sounded neat, it was romantic and the act was not demeaning to her. I could savor the memory of our encounter as long as I didn’t share it with my buddies. She wasn’t one of 'those’ girls.“You are very intelligent,” she murmured seductively.She didn’t care if I was the reincarnation of Benjamin Franklin, or some schmo in Afghanistan who made his living digging up (hopefully) spent ordinance of battlefields. Smoking hot, sexy, well-educated debutantes like Brooke could fuck finely-sculpted, 'smart’ guys like me. She could delude herself that I was rapidly upwardly mobile. My turn.“Brooke, I don’t want to get mixed up about us,” I evaded. 'Us’? There was no 'us’ and we both knew it. “If I caved in right now, I’m not sure I could forgive myself.” Yes I could.“I just want to feel like someone gives a damn about me,” Brooke whimpered. Good acting. We wrestled around; me trying to leave, but clearly not wanting to, while she physically enticed me.We ended up, me on top, pinning her wrists to either side of her head. Her legs were trapped between mine.“Make it up to me…please,” she pouted. She humped her pelvic bone playfully against my cock. “I know you want to help me out.” Good word usage on her part.“Brooke, this isn’t going to happen,” I gritted my teeth in frustration. Yes, it was going to happen. Her right leg began exerting steady pressure against my 'weak’ left leg. It slowly 'surrendered’ to her advance. Now she had on leg on the outside. My right leg held out a little longer yet Brooke was persistent.Now she could ground her finely groomed landing strip against my pulsating rod. I really, really wanted to fuck her now. I took my hands off her wrists, turned them into fists and placed the beneath each of her underarms.“Damn you,” I cursed her. Brooke was gyrating her crotch all over mine.With her hands released, Brooke could leverage her body up and trap my cockhead between her labia. They were thoroughly soaked with her honey so after my 'capture’ she drew more and more of my length in until I was completely incased. Brooke had won! She knew she’d won. Fuck Felix and his hash marks. I didn’t care so why should she?I made on last energetic yet futile effort to get away. Oddly, Brooke somehow end on top at the end of my exertion. I must be an awful wrestler…“No you don’t,” Brooke purred only millimeters from my lips. “You are not getting away.” That was Brooke tossing good ole Felix under the emotional bus.Felix the Player? She’d chalk it up to too much to drink and the hype being more than the man. How was this possible? Look at her. She’d thrown a known sexual dynamo down on her bed and was working his shaft over every G-spot in her vagina. Brooke still preferred a long, rough fucking to get her off. At the moment, she need reassurance more.Felix most assuredly made Brooke ride him. He kept her perpendicular to his hips and came up to suckle her teats when he wanted to, or watch them bounce as he lay back. He was great at sex, no doubt. The girl had to scream and howl; forgetting every other male she was ever with and making every other guy she’d be with later an automatic failure. To him, that was how he rated success.This resulted in me keeping Brooke close so I could make quick kisses to her very close lips. She’d playfully pull away; to put me in my place and remind me she was in charge; then she’d initiate the kiss. Our love-making was more rhythmic; less frantic. She was getting close.“Next…next time you fuck Felix,” I gasped. “Tell him…”“What makes; makes you think I’d; every sleep with him; again?” Brooke got feisty.“I bet he was good in bed and now that you have his measure,” I assured her. “You can take what pleasure you want and leave.” Brooke liked that. It was the whole independent woman thing.“Won’t you be jealous?” she panted.“I cannot constantly keep up with your sexual desires, Brooke,” I grunted. “I’ve been neglecting Libra.” Oh yeah, Libra. The girl she, Brooke, initially set me up with. Her Vassar classmate.“What about Felix,” she huffed and huffed. She was real close.“Off-handedly comment that he’s developing male pattern baldness,” I grinned. “Just to fuck with his head.” Felix was gorgeous. Better yet, Felix knew he was gorgeous. Hit him where it hurts. Brooke tried to giggle, but the surge of triumph overcame her and off she went. The problem was I was getting close and I didn’t have a condom on.“Brooke,” I inhaled deeply. She’d come to rest on my chest. “I’m about to…”“Oh,” she sighed happily. She reversed to the side as she slithered down my body. My cock went down her throat and I started petting her flank. Brooke wasn’t the very best, but, man o man, she was going to town on my dick.There was no doubt in my mind that her vaginal secretions didn’t bother her. I had to rush the experience because if I was late to work, Constanza make me stand beside the targets while she shot at them. If she was really pissed, she’d have me hold up targets in front me instead. I shot off, Brooke caught it all in her mouth then spit it into two tissues before tossing them in the trash.I caught her look. Trent and now Felix made her swallow. I didn’t care; which was yet another choice Brooke was free to make when making love to me. I jumped her. We had a little, tickle-nibble fight that ended in some kisses. I had to leave and Brooke made sure she was poised extra-sexy the last time I turned around to say goodnight and cut off the lights.“Ah damn,” I moaned before I left. I didn’t really like Brooke yet, by choosing to engage her in sex, I had accepted the task of making her happy. That was the reason Felix and I were going to fight. He’d use another human being to strike at me instead striking at me directly. To me, this was more than low character, it was an insult to my lifestyle.Felix should have checked his baggage at the door. Competing for the same lady was fine; even fun. Picking one to punish another…not cool. I had to think about my response as I barely made it in for my Constanza time. Wisely, I left my baggage at the door. These were firearms we were dealing with; a danger to me and the people around me.I was in my biking outfit today. More looks. The decision was that I’d go for my Glock-22, a 38 Ruger LCR back-up, a South Korean-made shotgun that looked like an M-16 and a very unhealthy looking device called a Heckler & Koch UMP 40 (which I had never even heard of). Wait…it got worse. I was scheduled for knife fighting training at 3 p.m.; every day for the foreseeable future.Constanza didn’t want to help me breath, much less train. That was okay. I left my shirt in the weapons’ room so the second I hit the shooting booth Magical Amazon Fey appeared to impart their wisdom, and body shapes to me. Oh God! I dropped a clip between my feet. The two ladies nearly head-butted in a race to get.The loser frowned. The winner was able to determine my ankles were strong, my calves were implant free; guys do that occasionally, and my thigh was definitely recovering. Without a doubt, my rod was happy to feel her hand. I retrieved my magazine from her unresisting hand. Then I did some shooting. With three clips I proved to be faster yet less accurate, more accurate yet slower and lastly a balance between the two.I wasn’t better than yesterday. It was yesterday. I did marginally worse with the .38 Ruger, better with the shotgun and I had a blast with the H&K. Was I accurate? NO…but this killing machine was loads of fun to fire off a clip at full-auto. According to 'my’ Amazons I looked so adorable pouting when I was told I’d fired off the last magazine. I repeat; loads of fun.Amazons are a dedicated martial culture, I was definitely a delicious male bouncing up and down gleefully while begging 'Fuck Me! Fuck Me!’ Not actually. I was enthusiastically asking for another clip, but I could tell how my words were being echoed inside their brains.“Behave yourself, Male!” Constanza snapped angrily. I fell on my knees, hands presented in supplication.“Please, please, please, please,” I begged.“Oh, give him another magazine,” two of my shooting companions requested.“I can’t believe we are in the same unit,” Constanza sneered, “rubbing against him like over-drunk un-casted.” Hmmm, that probably meant teenagers; before they chose a profession.“Constanza, they are all aggressive, dominant members of the Host,” I rose (verbally) to their defense. “They are not afraid of their sexuality and they are certainly not afraid of me. What are they doing wrong? They are helping me concentrate (totally false) on the task at hand. I would think you would be pleased that I’m receiving such encouragement, meaning you are more likely to succeed at your task.”“You don’t even know why you are here,” she glared.“I imagine you are here for the same reason I am; to serve our superiors,” I replied. “Do you think that I don’t want to sleep in an extra hour…,” I looked to my new buddies, “Okay, I used to want to sleep in that extra hour, but the point is the same.”“These are our hours. Why not make the most of it as opposed to letting the circumstances make us miserable?” I reasoned.“Constanza,” Naomi, the only shooting buddy to give me a name so far, “you are out of line. He is on our side now and he has the battle scars to prove it.”“Never,” Constanza growled out her challenge.“That is not your decision to make,” Naomi met that challenge. “He is down here. He is courageous, loyal and undaunted.”“Besides, if you hate him that much, getting a hunting license for him like the rest of us.”Fantastic (sarcasm), I was popular with Amazonia’s professional military.“Just remember, I get to hunt you ladies right back,” I grinned. They thought that was funny. “If I capture you, you are mine all-weekend long; yummy. Then, on Monday, it’s back to normality and me running for my life.”“Do you really think you can take any of us?” Naomi chuckled. The others laugh. Even Constanza was darkly amused.“Let me see…I was never a Boy Scout, I’m not ex-military, or even a backwoodsman,” I mused. “Still, I never thought I’d be shot with an arrow, or stabbed with a spear either, so I’m actually upbeat about my chances.”“Besides, I’m going to wear a black bear suit as camouflage.” Pause. “Damn it. I probably shouldn’t have told you that,” I grimaced. More chuckles.“I’ve watched um…Dual Survival…most of one episode…I’ve been so lost in the wilderness to the point I couldn’t see the road…I’ve made love to a Park Ranger…I’ve been so drunk that I hunted a grown moose with a ballpeen hammer…that’s about it for me.”“I am going to enjoy being the first one to catch you,” Naomi purred.“Be careful, Naomi,” I cautioned her. “I’m part lemur. It was the same experiment that made Constanza part Tasmanian Devil; those are some cranky-ass bitches.”“Are you really going to run fast?” another Amazon teased me.“Hell yeah,” I nodded as I stood. No extra magazines for me today. “I’m going to pick some compass point and run at it with everything I have.”“You are lying,” Naomi nudged me. They weren’t pissed; this was 'warfare’ thus deception was not only allowed, it was expected.“Without a hint of regret,” smiled at her. We were suddenly really close again. “I may run, I may hide, or I may double back. That is the prey’s advantage.” This was fine to the ladies around me. I was prey. I was fine with being prey. I was having fun being prey which made the promised encounter to be new and exciting.Amazons didn’t hunt turtles; they hunted dangerous things that hunted other things. Was I dangerous? Constanza was a living testimonial of that; the scar just above her left elbow. This didn’t imply respect and acceptance; no way, no how. It was impossible to believe I would ever replace one of…craptastic. Katrina was too damn smart; far smarter than me for sure.I wouldn’t have figured it out this soon except for something Oneida said; 'The Ash Men’. Who were they and why was calling someone that a good thing? A few more live-fires with a bit of instruction. With all the 'sisters’ willing to show me improved stance and firing techniques, Constanza felt the desire to be in another room.As I was finally departing for my real job, an Amazon with clear Amerindian blood, put a hand to my chest before I could exit out the hallway door.“How much of disaster is he?” she asked Naomi. I seriously thought about doing a takedown then I reasoned I really didn’t want to see Traska’s teary-eyed face looking down at my shattered form.“He’s passable for a beginner,” Naomi answered.“What are you talking about?” I protested. “I’m freaking awesome. I point the boom-stick at…whatever you call them…pull that trigger-thingy and the bullets go in a direction that doesn’t hurt me. Honestly, this crap is easy.” The copper chick grabbed my chin quick as a snake.“Your opinion was not solicited,” she menaced, “you ignorant toad-turd.” On second thought; I hit her. I’m pretty quick too. My fist connected with her diaphragm because she was not only not expecting me to lash out, she masked my movements by having her right limb holding my chin. She recoiled, I assumed my boxing stance and Naomi clubbed me down from behind.Let’s not forget who, what and where I was. I was dogpiled, yanked up then had Bitchy Amerindian chick pop me twice in the gut.“You are going to be caned for that,” she hissed.“Fuck you!” I shouted back. Fist to the head. That was going to leave a mark.“I look forward to hearing you scream,” she threatened.“Huh? What? You are still here? Something swished past me and I thought it was you leaving,” I joked.“Do you want to die?” Naomi hissed in my ear.“Let me go and we’ll all find out,” I replied.“Let him go,” Bitchy chick ordered. They let me go. That was not a good sign.“I’m Cáel Nyilas. I; ah…I’m from the Magyars,” I introduced myself.“I don’t care,” she glared.“Fine. Do you want to take this to the mats upstairs, or do you prefer we fight in a room full of firearms?” I asked.“This won’t take long,” she assumed a stance I’d never seen before. I didn’t know its official name, but it had 'pain’ written all over it.“A little room here?” I prodded the five Amazons standing behind me. My important unknown assailant waved them back to the walls. Constanza was livid, so I could already count this as a victory of sorts. My opponent swiveled on the ball of her left foot. It was a feint. I feinted too; I acted like I was going to fight. I ran away as she made her low, sweeping kick.I vaulted the table before she could catch me. Now she had a dilemma. If she came over the top, she’d be limiting her mobility and I was gambling hers was a very fluid style. If she moved around the table…as she did, it gave me time to grab my Glock and some ammo and keep running. I put a bullet in the chamber right as Constanza and her two feminazis drew there 9mms.I was staring down the sight of my .40 S&W Glock at copper chick. Oh, she wasn’t afraid in the least. She was pissed.“Right, or left?” I inquired.“Put the gun down, or you are dead!” Constanza commanded.“I’m confused,” I stated calmly. “Do I do what she says (copper chick); she is clearly someone important, or do I do what you say, Constanza?”“PUT IT DOWN!” Constanza screamed. Copper chick waved the guns down slowly.“Right, or left?” Copper chick inquired. (dead word spoken) St. Marie,“ she gave me her name.Mistress of the Golden Mare had to be something so not good."Right, or l
What up, Bumpkin's? This week's episode is a hodge-podge and a little crazy. We go a little more laid-back since we had to pre-record the show. We play a round of GOODWILL HUNTING... the "three-way" edition as we have both Marcus Stamos and Sebastian join in the unboxing fun. Then we play a game of "TRUTH OR DRINK" with everyone in the studio. What secrets are revealed? Who has the grossest bodily habit? Who is the better lover? And when did everyone lose respect for Sebastian? Join us for a laid-back show this week! Download and Listen to the COUNTRY-ish with Jon Reep Podcast: https://link.chtbl.com/tbxIcLlT Come see Jon LIVE in concert: https://jonreep.com/tour-dates/ Visit the MERCH shop: https://my-store-c58a1a.creator-sprin... Find Jon online: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jonreep Twitter: https://twitter.com/JonReep Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jonreep/ Tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/@jonreepcomedy Email: info@countryish.com #Countryish #JonReep #Allthingscomedy #SmallTownNews #Comedy #Podcast
Like Pumpkin beer? On todays show we taste through pumpkin beers (listed below). We also chat a ton about halloween, the restaurant biz and if it is ok for men to share a blanket.Beers TastedLunar Harvest by Ghostfish BrewingPumpkin Ale by San Juan Island BrewingNight Owl by Elysian BrewingAtomic Pumpkin by New Belgium BrewingPunkin Ale by Dogfish BrewingENJOY!!!
As we move into the fall season Michael and Anthony go on the search for fall beers. This week Anthony has the Southern Bumpkin from Red Clay Brewing and Michael has the Harvest Apple from Urban Tree Cidery. After reviewing some beers, we dive into the book of Job. Recources: How to Read the Bible for All Its Worth https://smile.amazon.com/How-Read-Bible-All-Worth/dp/0310517826/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1654736050&sr=8-1 How To Read The Bible Book by Book https://smile.amazon.com/How-Read-Bible-Book-Guided/dp/0310518083/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=how+to+read+the+bible+book+by+book&qid=1654736101&sprefix=how+to+read+the+bible+boo%2Caps%2C85&sr=8-1
【ニュース】オンライン・ワークショップを開催します、ご参加をされる方は下記のリンク先より詳細を! https://forms.gle/Gp7K4XPKMqUrW7T9A 今回のエピソードは「トウモロコシと野菜」について話しながら、co-hostであるアンドリアさんの出身地カンザス州と日本のトウモロコシの違いを話しています。番組の後半では、野菜にまつわる英語のキーワードやフレーズをバイリンガルなフリースタイルで語っています! ▶ ABOUT US CrossTalk英会話は、日本語と英語で交互に喋るバイリンガル・スタイルで外国人とのリアルなコミュニケーションの仕方や海外のカルチャーをもっと知りたい方に向けて情報発信する語学学習ポッドキャストです! 英会話スクールと英会話カフェを運営しているAndreaとTomoyaがバイリンガルなスタイルで毎週月曜日の6:00AMに更新中 ご感想やメッセージは Twitterのハッシュタグ #CrossTalkEikaiwa でつぶやくかYouTube、インスタグラムにコメントお願い致します。 ▶YouTube | https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCiziEW3Pq8nJpxCF_W6LaQw ▶Twitter | https://twitter.com/CrossTalk_cafe このポッドキャストは他のプラットフォームでも配信しています。
The next step in your career, IS a big decision. Stay in employment if it makes sense, but if you're ready for a change, just make sure you know all of your options. You don't always have to have your own start up idea to be a successful business owner. We talk this through with Sam Petter, Founder of Children Inspired by Yoga (Tatty Bumpkin) in the latest episode of The Disenfranchised, as well as learn about how she started her own business and the opportunity that she has created for others to follow. We also talked about: - How experiences can have a massive impact on your decisions for the future - The benefits of accepting change - The value of a strong brand - Sam's ideal franchisee - The positive impact of yoga for children's mental health - A pre-historic discovery - And much, much more! You can find Sam on LinkedIn https://www.linkedin.com/in/sam-petter-ciby/ and her business Children Inspired by Yoga here - https://childreninspiredbyyoga.com/ Thanks for listening and if you enjoyed this episode, don't forget to hit the subscribe button for the latest episodes! For more insights into the franchising world check out The Franchised at - www.thefranchised.com -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This episode was powered by Cymphony. Cymphony is a premium communications provider with services available to you that include a telephone answering service, managed live chat, and virtual personal assistants with your customer relationship building at its heart. Visit www.cymphony.co.uk/disenfranchised to find out more about Cymphony and the services they offer to franchised businesses.
Mike Black is back from San Diego Comic Con and I am back from the Orange County Fair! We talk shoes, crowds, bathrooms, shaking hands, Monster trucks, exhibit halls, Michael Richards, The Tonight show, best gigs, light bulb jokes, and much much more!This was a fun episode and I know you'll enjoy it. Thanks for your continued support!JULY 28 Goofy's New Braunfels, TexasJULY 29-30 Upstage Lounge San Antonio, TexasAUGUST 17-18 Off The Hook Naples, FLKeep moving forward and do something positive for yourself everyday.Thanks for watching my comedy clips, Pocket Party Podcast and Vlogs. Have a great day! Every time you tell someone about me, share a video, or click the "Like" button It helps.So THANK YOU!Have a great day and keep shining!
Comedians DARREN CARTER and MIKE BLACK talk LA County Fair, Kissing Booths, carnival slang, Ritz Crackers, Oreos, French Fries, Hamburgers, Gratitude Lists, Comedy Store, Comedy Clubs, Being Thankful and More!JUNE 24 Flappers Burbank, CA 7:30JULY 28 Goofy's New Braunfels, TexasJULY 29-30 Upstage Lounge San Antonio, TexasAUGUST 17-18 Off The Hook Naples, FLKeep moving forward and do something positive for yourself everyday.Thanks for watching my comedy clips, Pocket Party Podcast and Vlogs. Have a great day! Every time you tell someone about me, share a video, or click the "Like" button It helps.So THANK YOU!Have a great day and keep shining!
Hello Closeteers, and welcome to another episode on Inside the Closet! This week, Emma and Matteo are joined by comedian Katie Hannigan about her new special Feeling of Emptiness, growing up as a theater kid, finding her way to comedy, and so much more! Remember to rate and subscribe, follow us on Instagram, and subscribe to our Patreon for a bunch of bonus content! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Kerry Ellis: Bumpkin to Broadway...with TRE's Hannah Murray
No guest in this episode. Instead, I answer listener questions. If you have a question you'd like me to address on the show, please email me at live@theinformed.life or tweet to @informed_life. Listen to the show Download episode 67 Show notes The Informed Life episode 17: Rachel Price on Improvisation The Informed Life episode 65: Sarah Barrett on Architectural Scale A brief history of information architecture (pdf) by Peter Morville Information Architects by Richard Saul Wurman David Macaulay Alexander Tsiaras Why Software is Eating the World by Marc Andreessen (WSJ paywall) Dave Gray The Information Architecture Institute How to Make Sense of Any Mess by Abby Covert Information Architecture: For the Web and Beyond by Louis Rosenfeld, Peter Morville, and Jorge Arango The Information Architecture Conference World IA Day Information Architects Facebook group UX Design Information Architecture LinkedIn group Mags Hanley's Information Architecture Masterclasses Jorge Arango's Information Architecture Essentials workshop Some show notes may include Amazon affiliate links. I get a small commission for purchases made through these links. Read the transcript A question from Vinish Garg The first question comes from Vinish Garg. And I apologize if I have mispronounced that. Vinish is based in Chandigarh, and he writes, "the design agencies with around a hundred plus headcount have big and experienced teams in user research, interaction, design, and UX design. But many of them don't have an information architect. How do they see the need of a specialist IA and make space for this role?" And he adds a postscript, he says "those who have an IA, I spoke to many of them, but they are doing wireframes or card sorting without really understanding anything of taxonomy or findability. This is misplaced IA." All right. So, let me take the question first. Information architecture in general has withered as a job title. In the last 20 years, we've seen fewer and fewer people signing up to become information architects in organizations, not just in internal design teams, but also in agencies. In fact, I don't know many organizations that still have internal information architects. One notable exception — and I'm just calling it out because we've had two of their folks in the show — is Microsoft. Rachel Price and Sarah Barrett, both former guests of The Informed Life, are information architects within Microsoft. So, that's an example of an organization that still has the role internally. But I think that the more common scenario is that there is someone with another job title. It might be a UX designer or interaction designer or something like that, is tasked with structuring the system somehow. Sadly. I think that the even more common scenario is that no one does this explicitly at all, and they're just basically painting screens. I suspect that is the more common scenario. And it's a shame, because information architecture is very important, especially if you're dealing with a large complex system that presents a lot of information to end users. I want to comment a bit on the postscript. I think that it may be the case that there are people who, as Vinish points out, are practicing what they call information architecture, but they're doing it very superficially. And I encounter this most often in the confusion that people have between site maps and information architecture. I've seen folks draw up an outline in the form of a site map and basically call it a day. A site map is a useful artifact for communicating structural intent, but there's much more to information architecture than making a site map. And for many interactive systems, a site map might not even be the most appropriate artifact to communicate intent. Site maps tend to be very hierarchical, which is something that is more appropriate for some systems than others. I expect that, given the waning of information architecture, as I was saying earlier, much of what is practiced today under the rubric of information architecture is kind of cargo cult IA, where folks go through the motions of doing something like putting together a site map without understanding the reasoning behind the decisions they're making or why they're even making the artifact at all. And this is not something that's unique to IA. There are a lot of other areas of practice, other disciplines, where folks adopt the superficial trappings of the practice without really understanding the foundations. And in the case of information architecture, the foundations have to do with making meaningful distinctions. So, setting things aside in categories that are recognizable to the users of the system, that allow them to relate to the information in the system in meaningful ways, with the goal of ultimately making the system easier to use by making information easier to find and understand. Now, Vinish asked specifically about the context of agencies. I don't know much about the Indian market, but here in the U.S., the role of agencies in the design process has also waned as compared to 20 years ago. A lot of the work is happening internally in organizations, and that might be part of the reason why the role has waned as well. Because I think that people think about information architecture — if they think about it at all — when there's a major system change, when there's a redesign or a new product is being built and not so much during the day-to-day operations of the system. Again, there are exceptions. I called out Rachel and Sarah, who are part of a team that has ongoing responsibilities, because it's such a large system where so much content is produced. But in many cases, folks only need to do this sort of thing when they're making a major change, when they're implementing a new system or redesigning a system, as I said before. Which would lead me to expect that it is a role that would be more appropriate for design agencies, if, for no other reason, because design agencies do deal with more projects at the beginning their life, as opposed to the operational phase of the project. But alas, as Vinish points out, the role has also been waning in agencies as well. I don't know how they see the need for IA specialists. I don't know that they'd see the need for IA specialists. I believe that more likely they are experiencing the pain of not having an information architect in the team. Peter Morville has written of the "pain with no name" in reference to information architecture, this idea that people in the team might know that there's a problem, but they don't know how to name it. And they don't know that I'm more careful distinction making our structuring of the information in the environment might be part of the solution. And the net result is that frankly, information architecture isn't as popular as it used to be. And that may be a failing on the part of us who practice IA. We simply haven't been very good at explaining why it's important, why it's needed and why teams should consider having folks look after this stuff. That said, I know that there are people doing it out there. They just don't have the job title information architect — or at least that's what I would like to be the case. A question from Jose Gutierrez The next question comes from Jose Gutierrez; I think Jose is writing from Costa Rica. He writes, "I'm curious about what subjects does IA impact, but people normally don't associate with." These days, most people who think about information architecture — at least the few that do — think of it in relation to user experience design or digital design. But when I first learned about information architecture, I did so through Richard's Saul Wurman's 1996 book Information Architects. The impression that I got from that book was that IA was much, much broader. The very cover of the book has three definitions of what information architects are, and the first one says, "the individual who organizes the patterns inherent in data, making the complex clear." There's nothing in there about digital anything. We encounter patterns inherent in data and complexity in many different parts of reality, not just in digital systems. In fact, while the book touches on digital design, it's remit as much broader. It profiles folks like author David Macaulay, who has produced a series of wonderful books that explain how things work, or Alexander Tsiaras who works in medical imaging. And there's also cartography and illustration and yep, also some digital design, like structuring websites and that sort of thing, which is what we today, mostly associate with information architecture. And this isn't surprising because as software has eaten more of the world — to use Marc Andreessen's memorable phrase — more and more of our information is digital, and we experience more of the information that we deal with in digital environments. But structuring information to ease findability and understandability is much older than computers. I remember seeing a presentation many years ago by Dave Gray on the history of the book as an artifact, which really opened my eyes to this. Before there were books, we would write down information in things like scrolls. And what we know of as books — the form of a book, what is called a codex — was an innovation. It allowed for greater portability and random access to the information in the book, because you didn't have to unroll the whole thing to get to a particular section. Those were all innovations, right? But the very first codexes didn't have things like page numbers or tables of contents or indices or any of those things, and those were all innovations that allowed readers to find information more easily in books. I think that those are examples of information architecture, and they are many centuries old. So, any time that you're trying to make things easier to find and understand — whether it be in a book or a built environment or a medical image, or an app — Information architecture can help. As I said, in response to Vinish's question, I consider the essence of information architecture to be about making more meaningful distinctions. And this is something that applies to all sorts of aspects of reality. In fact, part of the intent for launching this podcast was precisely because I think that information architecture manifests in so many different fields. And I'm very interested in hearing from folks about how structuring, categorizing, organizing information more mindfully helps them get things done. A question from Elijah Claude Finally, here's a question from Elijah Claude. And again, I hope that I am pronouncing your name properly. I believe that Elijah is writing from Atlanta. He writes, " what are some of the best ways to learn good information architecture outside of school and work. In other words, how do you do personal projects where you can practice real information architecture? Great resources for IA books, podcasts, videos, et cetera." This question has two parts. So, there's a part that has to do with learning IA. And there's another part that has to do with practicing IA in our everyday lives. I must note upfront that I personally don't like to draw hard lines between life, work, school and all these things. I think that you can practice information architecture at any time. Information architecture is as much a mindset as it is a practice. And it's a mindset that has to do with looking beneath the surface of things to the way that things are organized and structured, and the ways in which we create shared meaning in how we organize and structure things in our world. That sounds a little abstract, so I'll give you an example. When we moved into the house that we're currently living in, my wife and I had a conversation about where we were going to store the various objects in our kitchen. So, we had boxes with things like plates and cutlery and food items, spices, and such. There are many categories of food items. There are dry foods, and there are big bulky foods that take up a lot of space, things like sacks of flour, rice and stuff like that. And here we are in this new house with a different layout than the one that we're used to, and many places in which to put things. And we had to coordinate where we were going to store things. Because if not, we would make it very difficult for each other to find things when we need them. And that's something that happened somewhat organically. We had an informal conversation saying, "Hey, maybe the cutlery can go in this drawer. And maybe this cabinet close to the stove would be perfect for things like spices and so on." Some things were obvious where they should go, others less so — and the arrangement has evolved over time. Over the time that we've been living here, we've occasionally moved things and found better ways to organize our kitchen. So, it's an ongoing thing and we talk about it. I think that it would be different if either one of us was organizing the kitchen for ourselves as individuals. When you must consider that at least one other person is going to be sharing the place with you, then you must take into consideration how they are going to be able to navigate the environment to find the stuff that they need. And I consider that to be an information architecture challenge. I'll give you another example. And funny enough, this one also has to do with our kitchen. Recently, we discovered that we have a minor problem. This is something that has emerged in the pandemic. It used to be that before the pandemic, I would often work outside of the house. And of course, with the arrival of the pandemic, more of us have been working from home. And as I've started working from home — and I tend to wake up very early — I would find that some days I would feed Bumpkin, our dog. I would feed bumpkin. And then, later in the morning, my wife, who normally feeds Bumpkin, would come along and would feed him not knowing that that I had already fed him. Bumpkin can be very insistent if he's hungry. So, if he comes knocking on my home office door, I will feed him because that's what gets him to stop knocking. And my wife and I have been prototyping a system to let each other know if Bumpkin has eaten or not. I wrote two sticky notes, one that said, "Bumpkin has eaten breakfast" and the other one said, "Bumpkin has eaten dinner." And we put it up on the cabinet where we keep his food. And the idea was that every time that she or I fed him a meal, we would place the appropriate sticky on the outside of the cabinet door. And that kind of worked for a while. But the glue the sticky started wearing out after switching them around so many times. So, we tried something else. We tried another sticky, this one on the refrigerator door with a checkbox. And one checkbox says, "Bumpkin has eaten breakfast" and the other checkbox says, "Bumpkin has eaten dinner." And we have a little magnet that we move between them. And what we discovered with that new prototype is that the sticky is much more resilient, because we're not moving it around, but it's in the wrong part of the environment because we're normally not looking in the refrigerator when we're feeding Bumpkin. So, we often forget to move the magnet. And I'm now thinking about the third rev of this thing, which would combine the two. And this will probably involve putting some kind of magnetic board on the door where we keep the dog food. And I consider all of these to be information architecture problems. On the one hand, clarifying the distinction between what was the last meal that Bumpkin had eaten, that's information architecture. And another is the location of this marker in the environment. Like I said, we were having a lot more traction when we had the sticky on the door that had the dog food in it than when we put it on the refrigerator door. And the only reason why we did it, there was a completely technical reason, which is that the fridge is already magnetized. So, these are examples of information architecture or architectural thinking at play in real-world problems — admittedly a very simple one. But it's not unusual. It's not unusual for us to apply that kind of mindset to organizing the real world. It's how we make sense of things. It's how we structure our environments so that we can get things done. And it doesn't just happen in information environments, it happens in physical environments as well. So, that's with regards to the practice question. The learning question is a bit tougher, because as I have said in the previous questions in this episode, interest in information architecture has waned over the last 20 years. So, resources are less plentiful than they used to be. The Information Architecture Institute, which was the preeminent place that I would point people to who wanted to learn about IA has seized operations. It feels to me like the discipline is in something of a state of transition. I am sure that there is a robust future for information architecture, but it's hard for me right now to point to any one definitive resource and say, this is what you should check out. There are books. That is the first thing that I recommend that folks check out. And Elijah, given the fact that you asked about non-work or school related contexts, the number one book that I would recommend for you, if you haven't seen it already, is Abby Covert's How to Make Sense of Any Mess, which is a primer on information architecture. It's a beautiful book in that it really articulates the core issues that transcend digital in a very useful way. Another book — and this one is, alas, a bit self-serving — is the fourth edition of the polar bear book, Information Architecture: For the Web and Beyond. And I say it's self-serving because I had the great privilege of having been invited to coauthor the fourth edition alongside the original authors, Lou Rosenfeld and Peter Morville. And that book is more specific to digital information environments, but I still think that it's one of the best places to learn about IA. There are also conferences. The two most prominent are the Information Architecture Conference and World IA Day. Both of those happen in the spring. The IA Conference is global. It usually happens in one city and folks fly from all over the world — or at least they did in the before times. The last two years, it's been virtual because of COVID. But it's more global, and it's a central gathering for IAS and the IA-curious. If you are interested in learning more about IA, I would recommend that you participate in the IA Conference. World IA Day is more of a localized initiative. It's a single day event and many cities participate around the world. It's driven by the communities in those cities. So again, super local. And it's a great way to meet people who are interested in information architecture in your own community. So, those are two events that I recommend: the IA Conference and World IA Day. There's also social media. There is at least one group on Facebook that is dedicated to information architecture. I know that there are also groups in LinkedIn. I haven't participated much in either of those, but I know that they exist. If that's what you prefer, you have those options. And then there are also courses. I know that Mags Hanley has a course on information architecture and by the way, a little bit of a spoiler: Mags is an upcoming guest of the show. We don't get in depth into her course, we talk about other subjects, but I know that Mags has a course that she does online and that may be worthwhile checking out. And then I have a workshop that I've done several times called Information Architecture Essentials, which is designed to introduce folks to the discipline. And I'm in the process of turning that into an online course as well. And by the way, if you are interested in that, I would love to hear from you, because I'm in the process of crafting that now. I'm also interested. If you have suggestions for folks like Elijah who want to find out more about information architecture. I would love to learn about other resources I might've missed, so please do get in touch. Closing So, there you have it, the first listener question episode of the show. I have other questions that folks sent in, but we didn't get a chance to get to them. So, I might do this again. Please do reach out if you enjoyed this episode, if you think I should do another one, and most especially, if you have a question yourself that you would like me to answer on the show. You can find contact information on the show's website at theinformed.life. That's also where you can find show notes and a transcript for this episode. For now, I want to thank Vinish, Jose, and Elijah for their questions. And thank you for listening. As a reminder, please rate or review the show in the Apple Podcasts app or in the Apple podcast directory. This helps other folks find it. Thanks!
This episode is also available as a blog post: https://ncc1707c.wordpress.com/2021/06/28/bumper-sticker-bumpkin/
what's going on in our lives, mount rushmore's of entertainment, sporting news, loki preview. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app
So Skuffed is back ladies and gentleman with another instant classic where we vibe and hangout to the best of the podcasts ever, we covered everything popping. The Triller Lawsuit, Money, Economics of Peru, and Bumpkin Loving Grandma Toes --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/skuffedcast/support
This week, Katie and Rehyan discuss Bumpkin, Moira missing Johnny, lip buzzing till you’re blue in the face, extra sleeping, Twyla’s friendship with Alexis, Ray’s multiple bios, fat spatula, Roland’s cleaning, Ronnie’s perfect pitch, Johnny breaking into song, Jake and his pony, honeymoon benefits, an unexpected catch, mocktails, relatable Ronnie, Jampagne, Bobbie the waitress, a sex reference, a surprise wine gift, Miguel’s exit, the lover’s curry, vulnerability, new best friends, and Jebediah. Follow our Instagram: @schittssimplythebestpodcastFollow our Twitter: @schittssimplythebestpod Rate, review, subscribe and quietly (or loudly) judge us – it’s the Rose family way.
Alright boys today we talked about all the recent youtube drama and then some random day dreaming moments that make no sense haha. We really just had a good time vibing here.
we talk about Bumpkins crime witnessing, Wendy Williams, Charli D'amelio, TikTok, YouTube, Video Games and more!
On this week's lunch break, the guys have a Phone Free Conversation about Thanksgiving! They also have an extensive discussion about Bacon and the proper ways to prepare it. Other topics include asian agents, southern accents, eating at work, connoisseurs, The Shadow Man, penis shaped foods, Turkey vs. Chicken, AND we revolutionize music. Enjoy!
I read from bum to bumpkin. The word of the episode is "bumper sticker". dictionarypod@gmail.com Facebook Twitter Instagram Patreon 917-727-5757
Jon and Marc announce the winner of the Best Bumpkin Pumpkin... will it be Intern Isaiah or Intern Elliott? Plus, the boys share some of their favorite - and scariest - moments for Halloween. Then it's another round of "How Much is that Screen Actors Guild Residual Check" with listeners calling in to try and win Jon's BIG check. Jon then zooms with comedian John Caparulo and lets him tell his infamous swan story and talk about his new adventures in animation and cartoons. And in "Small Town News", there's a story about a stolen Halloween inflatable cat, which leads to Jon discussing his hatred of inflatables and deciding just how stupid this thief really is. This episode will steal your heart... but is only worth about 40 cents.
Getting back up to speed with some new investigators, we start to finish up in England. Warning, contains Northern accents.
Dear Steve and Shirley, I need your advice because my daughter is in love with a country bumpkin. She is 24 years old and she got engaged recently and she brought her fiancé to town to meet my husband and I. As soon as they got out of the pickup truck, I thought WTH is this? He is a true country bumpkin. He has his GED because he dropped out of high school to work on his family’s farm. My daughter has a Master’s Degree and a promising career............... Learn more about your ad-choices at https://news.iheart.com/podcast-advertisers
The guys talk with some southern drawl this episode, the Washington Football team, are kobi & joe cucks?, is it better to be friends or jump into a relationship, and much more! Music from King Dazzi and Drew & Rockstar Rick featured on today’s episode.
Join Michael and Carson as we talk with relative of the show Byron about his time at school, bad falls, and shitty TV shows that used to be good.
This week we're reading "Humpty Bumpkin" by Sam Cheever. Turns out "Humpty Bumpkin" isn't just the legal name on Shane's birth certificate, it's a book! About murder! And debutantes! Pour yourself a glass of sweet tea and throw away that medical mask, we're taking a trip DOWN SOUTH.
No need for clever word play or a fancy introduction, this episode is in honor of the one and only Dolly Parton - Dolly Parton. Just Because I'm a Woman-Lynn Anderson. I Never Promised You a Rose Garden-Patsy Cline. Crazy -Brenda Lee. I'm Sorry-June Carter. He Don't Love Me Anymore-The Carter Sisters & Mother Maybelle. I Guess I Told You Off -Connie Francis. Invierno Triste-Dolly Parton. Joshua
eD! and Jeff discuss the 2020 iPad Pro, excellent new offers from streaming services at the moral center of the internet, and their preferences in chicken preperation.
Uhh... meow? https://www.patreon.com/jarmedia Merch: https://teespring.com/stores/jar-media-store Twitter: https://twitter.com/FourFunnies
A Daily Dose of Chassidus with Rabbi Shmuel Braun Impossible things are happening every day…
In today's podcast, we bring in our good friend Bumpkin to talk about how YouTube voices are the make or break of your channel and what to do if you don't have that "voice", how setting "unreachable" goals is the best way to grow your channel, and some beef between Dom and INT.
A little clarity on our last episode... and quite possibly our funniest episode yet. At least to us!
My buddy, Jason Anderson, or "Bumpkin" as I know him, comes to the house for a Special On the Porch edition. Bumpkin chats about social media and the loss of the personal connection we used to have between friends, family, and neighbors and also laments the basic life skills that youngsters today seemingly lack. "Get offa my lawn, you darn kids!" Bumpkin's really not a cantankerous old man, but he is and always has been an old soul. He is a hoot and today's chat demonstrates to the world what wild, wonderful, crazy friends I've been blessed with in my life. Next, we get into what I think of as Part 2 - Follow-up to the How Sweet It Is: Sweet Tea Episode. We get our results from the Sweet Tea Poll that Brad suggested last week and then I sit down with Lara Potter from Visit Kingsport to hear all about the Y'all vs. Yous Guys Battle of the Long Island Iced Tea. Kingsport's Long Island Iced Tea not only claims to be first, but now can also claim to be best...or can they??? Y'all are going to love this episode, you're going to love Bumpkin, and you're going to love the story of Kingsport's Original Long Island Iced Tea. Sit back, relax, and pull up a rocking chair. It's porch time!
Our four heroes begin exploring the strange door underneath Bumpkin’s Pumpkins, finding themselves in the midst of mazes, dungeons, and mysterious signs all around. Daughters of Dragons is a Dungeons and Dragons Podcast played by a group of five friends who just want to have a good time. We’re certainly not the best at D&D, … Continue reading E3 – The a-MAZE-ing Race →
Our journey begins as four unlikely heroes; Veta, Uila, Bingo and Gypsy; meet up at local tavern, Bumpkin’s Pumpkins, where they start to discover that their world is not as simple or as safe as it seems. Daughters of Dragons is a Dungeons and Dragons Podcast played by a group of five friends who just … Continue reading E1 – Don’t Drink the Milk →
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This week is a VERY special episode with one of our oldest friends in comedy, friend of the podcast, and just one of the funniest and most unique sumbitches in the game, DJ Lewis! DJ and The CHO sit down in their air bnb in Raleigh, NC and talk about their old misadventures on the road, how rad music is, and of course how to make meth (we here at the wellRED podcast do not in anyway advocate the use, manufacturing, or distribution of meth or any drug for that matter) wellREDcomedy.com for tickets to our shows smokeyboysgrilling.com for some awesome meat rubs carvevodka.com for more info on THE CHO's favorite vodka
In this episode, we're featuring an oft-overlooked album from Cal Smith: "Country Bumpkin" (1974). The title track itself, of course, was Smith's biggest and most enduring hit, immortalising his impact to generations of fans. However, many listeners never got past big hit single to the rest of the album, which is a surprisingly modern yet traditional release, overseen by master Walter Haynes in the producer's booth. Cal Smith brings his relaxed-yet-sincere delivery to an extremely well chosen collection of covers - as well as a few originals - employing the talents of master songwriters including Don Wayne (of course), Tommy Cash, Hank Cochran, Red Lane and Bill Anderson. From his days as a San Jose DJ to rhythm guitarist with ET's Texas Troubadours, "Country Bumpkin", in it's entirety, is Cal Smith's finest release, and really does deserve to be heard past the infectious "frost on the pumpkin" lyric. Highlights include "Between Lust And Watching TV", "Jesus Is A Good Ole Boy" and a pair of back-to-back Loretta Lynn hits in "They Don't Make 'Em Like My Daddy" and "Love Is The Foundation". Dig a little deeper to be rewarded.
In this episode, we're featuring an oft-overlooked album from Cal Smith: "Country Bumpkin" (1974). The title track itself, of course, was Smith's biggest and most enduring hit, immortalising his impact to generations of fans. However, many listeners never got past big hit single to the rest of the album, which is a surprisingly modern yet traditional release, overseen by master Walter Haynes in the producer's booth. Cal Smith brings his relaxed-yet-sincere delivery to an extremely well chosen collection of covers - as well as a few originals - employing the talents of master songwriters including Don Wayne (of course), Tommy Cash, Hank Cochran, Red Lane and Bill Anderson. From his days as a San Jose DJ to rhythm guitarist with ET's Texas Troubadours, "Country Bumpkin", in it's entirety, is Cal Smith's finest release, and really does deserve to be heard past the infectious "frost on the pumpkin" lyric. Highlights include "Between Lust And Watching TV", "Jesus Is A Good Ole Boy" and a pair of back-to-back Loretta Lynn hits in "They Don't Make 'Em Like My Daddy" and "Love Is The Foundation". Dig a little deeper to be rewarded.
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Y'all... we had us a time this past weekend up North. On this episode we explain the predicament we had in our hotel to our good friend Skinny Bumpkin aka DJ Lewis AKA Okra Boi, and unsurprisingly, he had a story that smooth topped the shit out of ours! After that we discuss DJ's transition into becoming a Rapper as Skinny Bumpkin from his roots as a stand up comic. Stay tuned after the episode for one of our favorites of his... 'Rebel' Remember to tweet @radisson with the hashtag #ButtholeMace so that we can get word out about our situation. wellREDcomedy.com for all of our tour dates. Click Here and LIKE Skinny Bumpkin's Facebook Page Check out his other tunes right here on SoundCloud DOWNLOAD, SHARE, AND TELL YOUR FRIENDS!!! (also leave us a review on iTunes.. it helps us in the ratings!) LOVE YALL
This week on the podcast we got our good buddy DJ Lewis on to talk about the Tennessee Football coaching disaster, Pedophiles, Whoomp There It Is, and the Lunacy that is Chickamauga, Georgia. wellredcomedy.com for our tour dates. We love ya!
At last, the mysterious Halls of H'Jinque!This episode leads to @Tele_Friends EPISODE 36! TFDND is produced by @ROLLINKUNZ (www.rollinkunz.com) and can be found on Twitter @TF_DND CREDITS:"Take a Chance" & other music by Kevin MacLeod (www.incompetech.com)
EveryChild To A Good Home Should Go by Karlo Yeager Rodriguez. Read by Tina Connolly. Featuring an afterword by Karlo Yeager Rodriguez. #fantasy #tropes #orphans #chosenone #fairygodmother #flashfiction #flashfictionmonth "So, you wished for a child," I said to open up the conversation. They traded glances before Mr. Bumpkin ventured a nod. "That would be right, Mizz--" He squinted at my nameplate. "Merriweather," I said. "Comma Flavia J. At your service." Karlo Yeager Rodriguez is originally from the enchanted island of Puerto Rico, but now lives in Baltimore. He has long since put up his wand, and only works his magic on issues of accessibility at the Ministry of Magic. The taste of gruel has grown on him, honest! Find him online at www.alineofink.com and on Twitter @kjy1066. Tina Connolly is the author of the Ironskin and Seriously Wicked series, and the collection On The Eyeball Floor and Other Stories. Her books have been finalists for the Nebula, Norton, and World Fantasy awards. She co-hosts Escape Pod, runs Toasted Cake, and you can find her at tinaconnolly.com Please help support The Overcast. Become a Patron today! Don't forget to subscribe of iTunes or Stitcher so you never miss an episode. And while you're there, please be sure to leave us a review!
Prolific friend of the show, Jordan, sits down with the PtM guys to get to the bottom of all the takes that have been weighing them down in a lengthy edition of "Takes Won To No One" (T12N1). No updates on Deathwatch, but a dark horse is revealed. A brief discussion of nationalism ensues, but is quickly reverted to take-talk. Story time, elephants, homeopathic medicine..it's all here in this edition of Prithee this Meet! Stay Prolific.
Gracie Raleigh's Jason "Bumpkin" Wingate talks about his 17 years in jiujitsu, starting with Renzo Gracie & Tim Mannon, continuing under Royce Gracie with Billy Dowey & Jason Culbreth, and finally teaching at Gracie Raleigh with Brandon Garner. We also talk about his training with Robson Moura, meeting Miguel Torres and much more!
Daniel "The Executive" Branch talks about the biggest fight of his career coming up Sep. 23 in Atlantic City, training at Gracie Raleigh, working with Brandon Garner and Jason "Bumpkin" Wingate, fighters who miss weight and front about it, and more!
Love him or not, you have to admit that President Bill Clinton is a strong communicator. Yet in 1988, his epically-long speech (33 minutes) at the Democratic National Convention drew the most applause when he FINALLY used the words, "in conclusion." Ouch. A true story from the days when I studied for a Master's Degree: Before returning papers he'd recently graded/slain, the Professor indignantly went to the chalkboard to write the words "were," "we're," then the words "its" and "it's." Then he tersely explained the differences. One of my classmates, a prime offender, shrugged off the dressing-down with "Well . . . it don't matter." I'm serious. Long-winded, ill-educated, confusing, rambling, nonsensical, boorish . . . are these the words your visitors use about your website? If so, they're likely using those words about YOU! Photographers: You'd NEVER upload your sloppiest work to your website. I'm assuming that you're curating your finest images, showcasing the zenith of your work. Why, then, would you not give the same affection to the words you have written there? We must learn to right the write copy to attract the rite customers. Am I wrong?! If you believe that everyone with a pencil & paper is a Copywriter, you also believe that everyone with a camera is a Photographer. Today's conversation is with a full-time Copywriter--Tawni Haley. Tawni and I explore the similarities between the careers of Copywriters and Photographers, and also: What IS copy? What is is NOT? How long does a website have to grab the attention of the viewer? Why can't a stellar Photographer rely on the strength of stunning photos? Tips for writing good copy. How to identify the style of copy that is YOUR voice. 2 tips to identify bad copy on your own site. The power of a few keywords (this is not about SEO). How to get the most out of a limited amount of dollars you might spend on a Copywriter. The #1 most important thing about online copy. "Good written copy is like a good conversation." -Tawni Haley I think you'll find this conversation extraordinarily practical, and applicable to ANYONE who needs to communicate a business message online. So make your Momma proud, and SHARE! Send this episode along your own social media highways, or email the link to a friend.
Every so often there’s a politician who breaks through, or an idea that catches fire … just not this election year. Today on The Gist, Mark Leibovich from the New York Times counts the many ways this midterm election disappoints. Plus, using data to better understand human nature. We speak with OkCupid founder Christian Rudder about his new book Dataclysm. For the Spiel, bring on the poo. Get The Gist by email as soon as it’s available: slate.com/GistEmail Subscribe to the podcast in iTunes: itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/slate…id873667927?mt=2 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
On July 4th, the bizarre and fabulous Trashcatchers’ Carnival will hit Tooting high street! Some months ago, I spoke to David and Malsara Thorne of Transition Town Tooting to find out about the Transition Town movement and how the plans for the carnival were coming along. It is going to be a fantastic event, so … Continue reading "City bumpkin podcast 7 – Transition Town Tooting"
This month I spoke to Theo Pike, Chairman of the Wandle trust. I met up with Theo during one of the trust’s monthly Wandle cleansing sessions. Over fifty local volunteers were working hard to haul all sorts of rubbish including shopping trolleys and scooters out of the river. Here’s a selection of some of the … Continue reading "City bumpkin podcast 6 – Theo Pike"
Here is the latest installment of the City Bumpkin podcast. This month, I spoke to Seb Mayfield, of Food Up Front. Have a listen: Or click here to listen in a new window And while you’re doing that, vote in the BSGL poll! The City Bumpkin podcast map!
In previous City Bumpkin podcasts, I’ve spoken to container gardener Penelope Bennett, guerrilla gardener Richard Reynolds, and the project manager of Deen City Farm, Ben Cheetham. Each podcast features an interview with someone pioneering a green initiative in London. It will be considerably easier for me to find such people from now on, as Nick … Continue reading "City bumpkin podcast 4 – Project Dirt"
I was amazed to discover Deen City Farm just down the road from my house last year, and have been keen to find out more about it ever since. It’s a riding school as well as a farm, with some lovely ‘growing gardens’. The site used to be used as a dumping ground, so the … Continue reading "City bumpkin podcast 3 – Ben Cheetham"
This is Richard Reynold’s original guerrilla garden. It’s not actually his, it belongs to the tower block he lives in. Richard cleared it of dead plants, litter and rubbish in 2004, replanted it, and has been looking after it ever since. It is just 2×2 metres – even smaller than the Penelope Bennett’s window-box allotment … Continue reading "City bumpkin podcast 2 – Richard Reynolds"
Despite my frequent rants on the subject of getting out of The Big Smoke and away to the countryside where I can keep chickens in the garden and expand on my allotmenteering adventures, I still love life in the city. What is particularly fascinating is the frequent stories about Londoners bringing a bit of ‘green’ … Continue reading "City bumpkin podcast 1 – Penelope Bennett"