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Ваш любимый канал «ВОТ ЭТО английский» — теперь в аудиоформате!Попробуйте и научитесь понимать английский на слух с удовольствием
Ваш любимый канал «ВОТ ЭТО английский» — теперь в аудиоформате!Попробуйте и научитесь понимать английский на слух с удовольствием
In the first episode of 2026, Roger Moorhouse and Patrick Bishop look back on a bizarre and momentous year of conflict. The hosts begin by reflecting on the breakdown of international cooperation, noting how Russia has moved from sensitive joint enterprises, like decommissioning nuclear power submarines, to living on the "dark side of the moon" diplomatically and economically. The centre of this week's discussion is the surreal meeting between President Zelensky and Donald Trump at Mar-a-Lago. Patrick and Roger dissect the "Olympic levels of restraint" shown by Zelensky as Trump claimed Putin was "generous" in his feelings toward Ukraine. They explore the 20-point peace plan being sketched out by American and Ukrainian officials and why, despite Trump's optimism, the Kremlin remains unlikely to accept any deal that recognises a sovereign Ukraine. Finally, the hosts look at the changing face of the front line, where the introduction of long-range "FPV" drones—now capable of striking targets up to 50 or even 100 kilometres away—is creating a lethal "grey zone" that redefines modern manoeuvre warfare. If you have any thoughts or questions, you can send them to - podbattleground@gmail.com Producer: James Hodgson X (Twitter): @PodBattleground Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Ваш любимый канал «ВОТ ЭТО английский» — теперь в аудиоформате!Попробуйте и научитесь понимать английский на слух с удовольствием
Hello and welcome to Farm to Fable, a Smallville re-watch fancast. Here is our review/discussion of s9 ep 19 Charade . This episode was originally aired on April 23rd, 2010. It was written by Don Whitehead and Holly Henderson and was Directed by Brian Peterson Episode summary: Clark is ready to start his training, but is sent back to Metropolis to cut his ties with Lois first. John Corben is a new reporter with a grudge against the Blur. Lois reappears in the city with no recollection of where she was during her missing time. It's IMDB.com rating 7.7 PASS THE TORCH QUESTION: Disgraced D.A. Ray Sacks has been released from prison and the only way Lois or Clark can keep their jobs is to get the scoop. This puts Lois in the crosshairs of Maxwell Lord who has a plan to unmask the Blur. Through all of this the Clark, Lois, Blur triangle bursts apart after Clark Learns Zod has been impersonating the Blur to Lois forcing him to cut all ties with her as the Blur and hoping that Clark, alone is enough for Lois. In this episode Michael is joined by Michael Waldschlager II Mentioned on the show FInd Michael Waldschlager on Facebook. and on Instagram Tubular Teens with Titans All Ears Theater Smuggler’s Blues Sponsor Bluegrass Gaming Con Tabletop Journeys Podcast and Youtube Channel Subscribe to The RPG Academy Youtube channel to support Michael Support Michael on Patreon Like and follow our Facebook page Smallville Farm to Fable Subscribe and leave us a review on Apple Podcasts. Smallville: Farm to Fable E-mail us any comments/concerns/questions to SmallvilleFancast@gmail Thank you for listening and we hope you'll follow along as we discuss each episode in the future. Thanks!! Michael
Ваш любимый канал «ВОТ ЭТО английский» — теперь в аудиоформате!Попробуйте и научитесь понимать английский на слух с удовольствием
Ваш любимый канал «ВОТ ЭТО английский» — теперь в аудиоформате!Попробуйте и научитесь понимать английский на слух с удовольствием
Ваш любимый канал «ВОТ ЭТО английский» — теперь в аудиоформате!Попробуйте и научитесь понимать английский на слух с удовольствием
Ваш любимый канал «ВОТ ЭТО английский» — теперь в аудиоформате!Попробуйте и научитесь понимать английский на слух с удовольствием
Ваш любимый канал «ВОТ ЭТО английский» — теперь в аудиоформате!Попробуйте и научитесь понимать английский на слух с удовольствием
Ваш любимый канал «ВОТ ЭТО английский» — теперь в аудиоформате!Попробуйте и научитесь понимать английский на слух с удовольствием
Ваш любимый канал «ВОТ ЭТО английский» — теперь в аудиоформате!Попробуйте и научитесь понимать английский на слух с удовольствием
This episode is what the cool podcast kids call a co-share. I was recently on “The Artistry of Humanity” with Ian Williams and we had a great chat about being simultaneously rich and broke, the external illusion of success versus the internal reality of chaos and misery, the biology of stress and lots more. Enjoy.artistry-of-humanity.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Time to meet some more Thanksgiving Beasts. Welcome to East Hartford, Connecticut, home to some of the worst “recincrapments” we've ever seen in a true crime TV special and also some armless lizards and inexplicably decapitated fish. We're not kidding. It's all on offer in episode 7 of season 6 of BLOOD RELATIVES, entitled "Thanksgiving Day Charade". We're not sure what the charade is here except for bad wigs and questionable set dressing and some of the worst reenactments we've ever seen. But like so many of our Thanksgiving themed true crime specials, this one does for Turkey Day what JAWS did for the beach. Also, did we mention the lizard?
Which Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon are you holding on to? Matt went full Super Saiyan over Goku, flirted with Mario, and still somehow ended up swinging into Spider-Man's arms. Someone also walked away with a cup of pure Dunkin' cream with no coffee in sight.Plus, we're giving thanks in the most chaotic way possible with another round of “Cheers to You,” where quarter zips and postal workers finally get the appreciation they deserve.00:00 Intro04:48 Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon bracket showdown24:07 Person of the Week24:54 Cheers To You!38:58 Advice and OutroFollow Funny Business on Spotify for weekly episodes.More at: https://beacons.ai/funnybusinesspodNote: The opinions expressed in this show are the hosts' views and not necessarily those of any business or organization. The podcast hosts are solely responsible for the content of this show.
Which Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon are you holding on to? Matt went full Super Saiyan over Goku, flirted with Mario, and still somehow ended up swinging into Spider-Man's arms. Someone also walked away with a cup of pure Dunkin' cream with no coffee in sight.Plus, we're giving thanks in the most chaotic way possible with another round of “Cheers to You,” where quarter zips and postal workers finally get the appreciation they deserve.00:00 Intro04:48 Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon bracket showdown24:07 Person of the Week24:54 Cheers To You!38:58 Advice and OutroFollow Funny Business on Spotify for weekly episodes.More at: https://beacons.ai/funnybusinesspodNote: The opinions expressed in this show are the hosts' views and not necessarily those of any business or organization. The podcast hosts are solely responsible for the content of this show.
Jeanine Englert joins the podcast to read from CINDERELLA'S CHARADE WITH THE DUKE. She talks about foraying into the Regency world after writing Scottish historical romances, how she approaches fairy tale adaptations, and how her characters come to her voice-first. Plus, she reveals she is here for the DRAMA of romance, and she peels back the curtain of working with Harlequin! 00:00 Welcome to the Historical Romance Sampler Podcast 00:33 Meet Jeanine Englert 01:52 Cinderella's Charade with the Duke: A Reading 10:44 Interview with Jeanine Englert 24:58 Love It or Leave It: Game Time 29:23 Closing Remarks and Where to Find Us Find out more about Jeanine Englert at https://www.jeaninewrites.com/ HRS is an affiliate of Libro.fm! Sign up for a new monthly membership and get three audiobooks for the price of one with code HISTORICAL! (As an affiliate, HRS may earn a portion of your purchase, for which we thank you!) Check out the official HRS playlist at: https://tidd.ly/4hgCquh Find out more about your host Katherine Grant: Instagram (@katherine_grant_romance) TikTok (@katherinegrantromance) Facebook (@Katherinegrantromanceauthor) Goodreads (https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19872840.Katherine_Grant) Bookbub (https://www.bookbub.com/authors/katherine-grant) Follow HRS on social media! TikTok (@historicalromancesampler) Instagram (@historicalromancesampler)
Today on Episode 229, the guys take a look at their final film in their Cary Grant Retrospective, Charade. Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn only got one film in which to work together. Would that cause some bumps in the road as they figured out each others style and timing or would the pairing of two of hollywood's most iconic actors be natural right out of the gate? Tune in to find out!Be Sure to Follow The Hosts on X!Kevin “OptimusSolo” Thompson and Dan “The Comic Concierge” Clark!#UNLEASHTHECINEMAGEEKINYOU!!!
Clark Kent v The Blur: Who does Lois love more?Lois and Clark get their jobs pitted against one another by the Daily Planet's new editor-in-chief. Ex-D.A. Ray the NutSacks is out of prison and ready for his revenge on Lois and The Blur. Chloe, a.k.a. Watchtower, is practically useless nowadays. Lois basically admits that The Blur is more important than her boyfriend. Checkmate makes a return with their new black king and he is, in fact, NOT black. Gil Bellows (Chucky, The Shawshank Redemption) makes his first appearance as DC Comics original character Maxwell Lord.As always, enjoy the show and LEAVE THOSE FIVE STARS!
WELCOME TO CARRIED AWAY... THE SATC REWATCH PODCAST - where two twenty something women rewatch the iconic 90s series... twenty something years later. In this weeks episode we see the girls visit The Hamptons for the wedding of Bobby & Bitsy where Samantha borrows Richard's house, Miranda is a fucking fugitive, Charlotte falls for Harry and Carrie runs into a newly single Berger. We get Carried Away… discussing Bobby Fine the performer, Bitsy Von Muffling, the zsa zsa zsu v zsa zsa ew v zsa zsa jew, grabbing someones back hair, Steve in the crib, going from ex to sex, shitty pants being blacklisted from the Hamptons party, a berger with a side of single, sticking a cork up bradys arse, Richard's “good friends” & the rice krispie treats, Melon-gate, Stanford's confession, Berger THE BOLTER and abso-fucking-lutely everything in between. Find out which characters we relate to most and our hilarious quotes of the episode!
On October 14th, singer, songwriter and multi-instrumentalist D'Angelo died at the age of 51. Throughout his too short life, he made three unforgettable albums and cemented his legacy as one of the great artists of his time. Hosts Jim DeRogatis and Greg Kot pay tribute to D'Angelo by talking about his life, career and musical impact. They'll also revisit their classic album dissection of D'Angelo's masterpiece, Voodoo.Join our Facebook Group: https://bit.ly/3sivr9TBecome a member on Patreon: https://bit.ly/3slWZvcSign up for our newsletter: https://bit.ly/3eEvRnGMake a donation via PayPal: https://bit.ly/3dmt9lUSend us a Voice Memo: Desktop: bit.ly/2RyD5Ah Mobile: sayhi.chat/soundops Featured Songs:D'Angelo, "Untitled (How Does It Feel)," Voodoo, Virgin, 2000The Beatles, "With A Little Help From My Friends," Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Parlophone, 1967D'Angelo, "Brown Sugar," Brown Sugar, EMI, 1995D'Angelo, "Playa Playa," Voodoo, Virgin, 2000D'Angelo, "Chicken Grease," Voodoo, Virgin, 2000D'Angelo, "Devil's Pie," Voodoo, Virgin, 2000D'Angelo, "One Mo'gin," Voodoo, Virgin, 2000D'Angelo, "Africa," Voodoo, Virgin, 2000D'Angelo, "The Root," Voodoo, Virgin, 2000D'Angelo, "Send It On," Voodoo, Virgin, 2000D'Angelo, "Feel like Makin' Love," Voodoo, Virgin, 2000D'Angelo and the Vanguard, "Sugah Daddy," Black Messiah, RCA, 2014D'Angelo and the Vanguard, "The Charade," Black Messiah, RCA, 2014D'Angelo and the Vanguard, "1000 Deaths," Black Messiah, RCA, 2014David Bowie, "Moonage Daydream," The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, RCA, 1972See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
Send us a textWhen Quinn Goes deep behind Enemy lines the team decides to give him a hand but will they make it in time? Join Us to find Out!!!Cyberpunk Red & DLChttps://rtalsoriangames.com/cyberpunk/ https://rtalsoriangames.com/downloadable-content/Help us out with Patreon!https://www.patreon.com/savesvsdeathChat with us on discord!https://discord.gg/rbrb6tuGj7Join us on social media!https://bsky.app/profile/savesvsdeath.bsky.socialhttps://www.facebook.com/Saves-Vs-Deathhttps://www.instagram.com/savesvsdeath/Music used under Creative Commons provided byKarl Casey @ White Bat AudioCheck our their work athttps://www.youtube.com/c/WhiteBatAudioSupport the show
More people not paying attention, don't look at me while I'm pissing, the passing of a legend, yet more scenes, a M3GAN worth watching, a new horror film that kind of works, a damn near masterpiece at the the theater, steroid Sean, and playing Charade. Stuff mentioned: Sorcerer (1977), The Wages of Fear (1953), Three Days of the Condor (1975), Sneakers (1992), Field of Dreams (1989), M3GAN 2.0 (2025), M3GAN (2022), Terminator 2 (1991), Night of the Reaper (2025), The Godfather (1972), One Battle After Another (2025), Thomas Pynchon Vineland (1990), Henry Mancini Charade (1963), and Charade (1963).
Nurses Out Loud with Suzi Eichinger, RN – This isn't about safety. It's about control. Consider the evidence—or lack thereof. Agency directives from the CDC and state health departments do not recommend masking for unvaccinated healthcare workers outside specific clinical scenarios: sterile procedures, immunosuppressed patients, or droplet precautions. These corporate policies are inventions—carefully crafted to...
Nurses Out Loud with Suzi Eichinger, RN – This isn't about safety. It's about control. Consider the evidence—or lack thereof. Agency directives from the CDC and state health departments do not recommend masking for unvaccinated healthcare workers outside specific clinical scenarios: sterile procedures, immunosuppressed patients, or droplet precautions. These corporate policies are inventions—carefully crafted to...
In this episode of The Clay Edwards Show, host Clay Edwards kicks things off with an enthusiastic discussion about the power of talk radio in Mississippi, highlighting its edge over music stations in delivering live, local content that resonates with listeners. He reflects on why traditional music radio is fading in the era of streaming apps and on-demand playlists, questioning if anyone still calls in song requests or tunes into non-local DJs. Clay dives into a nostalgic rant about Mississippi's vibrant local music scene, reminiscing about legendary bands from the '80s and '90s like Lillian Axe, Charade, Cyrus, and Vandevere, and how the landscape evolved into nu-metal and college rock acts in the 2000s, including Storage 24, Max Cherry, Geronimo Rex, and Absence of Concern. He laments the shift toward cover bands and country acts today, while shouting out current standouts like The Stephens Brothers, Miles Flat, and Burnham Road for their crowd-drawing prowess. Clay poses a key question to the audience: Do you still listen to local radio for music, or have you switched entirely to apps like Spotify, Apple Music, or XM? The conversation takes a sharp turn into current events as Clay breaks down a chaotic incident at Tennessee State University (TSU), an HBCU, where two conservative debaters set up a table with signs reading "DEI should be illegal" and "Deport all illegals now—let's talk." What started as an invitation to debate escalated into what Clay describes as a "race riot," with students reacting dramatically, stealing signs, and mobbing the visitors' vehicles. He critiques the university's official statement for downplaying the chaos and coddling the students, calling it enabling and gaslighting. Clay argues that HBCUs like TSU should be defunded if they foster division, pointing out their permanent funding under the Trump administration and questioning the need for segregated institutions in modern America. He challenges listeners on topics like DEI (which he claims primarily benefits certain groups over Black communities), illegal immigration, and the double standards in media coverage of similar incidents if roles were reversed at a majority-white school. Throughout the episode, Clay fields calls and texts from listeners sharing their views on radio habits, XM subscriptions, and the TSU controversy, emphasizing accountability, situational awareness, and rejecting what he sees as forced narratives on race and equality. He touches on broader themes like the thin line between order and anarchy in communities, the dangers of ignoring threats from unstable individuals, and why he takes personal safety seriously in light of recent high-profile incidents. Later, Clay previews upcoming segments, including a story about a violent attack at an NBA YoungBoy concert and an interview with the director of the Sanderson Farms Championship golf tournament. He shares details on the event's logistics, player lineup (featuring stars like Max Homa, Zach Johnson, and local talents like Chad Ramey and Davis Riley), and how it brings world-class PGA Tour action to Jackson, Mississippi, with affordable tickets and family-friendly access. Join Clay for unfiltered takes on media, culture, politics, and local history in this lively, opinionated episode that sparks debate and reflection. Perfect for fans of raw talk radio—tune in and decide where you stand!
Liberal Charade: Poilievre Calls Out Carney Major Projects DeceptionBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/radio-baloney-the-richie-baloney-show--4036781/support.
It's not easy to put your finger on the problem, until you figure it out, and then it becomes obvious. We're exhausted by the constant stream of BS and gaslighting coming from every area of life; politics, business, and culture. We want the truth, and we can handle the truth. George G digs into our collective frustration, and talks about the way out of it and back to real, sincere conversation and discourse! You can learn more about us at LifeBlood.Live, Twitter, LinkedIn, Instagram, YouTube and Facebook or you'd like to be a guest on the show, contact us at contact@LifeBlood.Live. Stay up to date by getting our monthly updates. Want to say “Thanks!” You can buy us a cup of coffee. https://www.buymeacoffee.com/lifeblood Get your copy of The Purpose Book here: https://amzn.to/47Y2u98 You can get a free digital download of The Purpose Book here: https://moneyalignmentacademy.thinkific.com/enroll/2554435?price_id=3360279 Get our monthly updates here: https://george-grombacher.aweb.page/ Thanks, as always for listening! If you got some value and enjoyed the show, please leave us a review here: https://ratethispodcast.com/lifebloodpodcast You can learn more about us at LifeBlood.Live, Twitter, LinkedIn, Instagram, YouTube and Facebook or you'd like to be a guest on the show, contact us at contact@LifeBlood.Live. Stay up to date by getting our monthly updates. Want to say “Thanks!” You can buy us a cup of coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/lifeblood Copyright LifeBlood 2025.
For the first of our Hitchcockian films, we discuss the best "Hitchcock film not directed by Hitchcock": Stanley Donen's Charade (1963), a somewhat satirical, fantastically entertaining globe-trotting thriller with a stellar cast featuring Cary Grant, Audrey Hepburn, and Walter Matthau. Next week we'll be chatting about Gaslight (1944), which somehow Hitchcock also did not direct.
TROUBLEMAKER enters through the foyer. Troublemaker— I never though I'd see you again. — you won't. Yo what do I owe the displeasure? Fascinatingly inept. Ahem, excuse me— to what do I owe the nauseating discomfort? Better, but still no dice. What are you going here, exiler? “Exiler” well now, here we are making up words after a rusty start. What do you want? Where are they? Who do you mean? Birdsong and Hawkeye? I'm supposed to know? You do know. Do I now? Now— tomorrow— always and forever. Don't play mind games. But oh, a game it was to have given you the mark of the call in the first place. The what? I made my time with you and you alone; and you as well as I remember this; I know what you know, and I am where you are at all and any given times. So then, you can find them all on your own. Clever but not! Without seeing both eyes, I have none at all. What are you seeking? The hidden truths. Well then; you're going to have to kill me. Then I will. MONARCH THE SUFFERER enters through the galley in extreme panic. STOP, STOP! WAIT AT IT. MEANWHILE Okay, Conan, what gives? Nothing! Should this mean something at all? This is innapropriate, So you are—completely lucid. Of course I am; I'm an astral traveler, aren't I? I don't know what you are? For now, as it appears, just a thought. Well, if I give you my eyes, will you sprout arms or something? The mystic waits and ponders; this seems to be an enlightening thought; filled with amusement, she replies. Why, yes, Conan. Give me your eyes. Are you serious? What a remarkable thought. Actually! Wait a moment. Please be in jeans and a t shirt not a sweater or a jacket or a suit When I please you want you to be my teacher In this essence, you are light and I'm the truth Feed me See me for my demons As I need your for your weakness Only on the weekdays, and never on the weekends We hiatus summers— Smart, huh DJs on the long nights, Your festival seasons Turtlenecks at Christmas, No hannukah for Christians, I'm waving at the Krishnas in the station And I'm brace to even right this; As I brace myself for impact, Saving Grace is in its place I guess the last days have to happen As the last act take its placement —Ace of Spades. Somebody kill me I need to get pass go Collect $200 dollars And never ever roll again To roll the dice To troll the doll —someone's lost in the mall, alright, I bet. I thought it was a poker game I even hoped, But no, Just lunch and cake. Amen. A dog in the host suit On octopus arms How alarming. How are you? I'm no good, No good, No good, America No good, No goon, But too false for truth, America No words, No news— Who ties the noose, America? No time for booze, America Just cut me loose, America. Patrick! Patrick! What about the offer? There was no offer! I lied, to you! But why would you do that? To get the most out of you. Well— you certainly did do that. You certainly did do well. Certified freak; Shh, I can't leak the secrets. I could be speaking in codes, Or keep cleaning my creases with bleach If you mean what you mean, Death. I sure do think, You are in for The ride of your life The ride of your life I sure do wish, That I just didn't have eyes m Just didn't have eyes Just didn't have— Here's a thought: who'd you wash in the laundry? Were you hoping that I'd wander? Mayday — lost focus That is just not your business! Keep it simple Keep it tie dye Keep it strange And keep it rowdy Keep it pushing Keep it pouty Keep it off the walk And show now panty lines No petty theft No truth remarks No sighs No heavy dining Bleeding Eating Breathing Thinking Where were for you when I marked you though and then? This is no Romeo and Juliet! Did you forget your lunch? Oh you forgot, You know I'm just old fashioned. That was passionate For a paraground in parameters of iambic Drenched in suffocating silent Lock box I have the option I have the option I have the option But I'd rather not! Ha ha Charade you are Ha ha hav Show me what you got Ha ha. Ha ha A hallmark card marked Penny in a fountain. That's the address, Well, send it back then! Which fountain? Which penny? Which wish, Which which And which Christmas. I don't get it I took a half wit plastered bastard and had him hammered into a masterpiece; Now I'm the madman. Now what's the matter? Now what's the difference in a fan and a friend Or a cat in a hat or Peanut butter jelly and a baseball bat Is it just as indifferently anyway just another day In fact, It's opposite independence Interestingly in this circumstance I am imprisoned Listening to indefinitely And whether or not I'd never admit it This Is In me. Never friend, However, In the final act, Holding hands as the curtains lift, And the audience stance, The simple tremble of a pulse Which resembles the flicker of definite grip Rather publicly, In fact, Center percentium How's that for a show of affection? The drop of a hat, Or as light as a feather Who goes there Or yonder. “I ponder on that,” “Very often” Said Cheshire Cat. Don't forget how long it's been since Alice had originally fallen, And that all along we've all been in and under, up and down in Wonderland. (and also, it's the phantom of the opera) Come crashing down now the silvered chandelier of crystal and of course the precious iridescent diamonds. How remarkable the art but perched and parched above it he shadow lives in sawdust And showtunes And auras And hauntings And mayday And mating calls And over all The body calls to rotting soul To find a plug to pull A bull to taunt Another fan that wants you. What the fuck would love fall upon of not the shoulders of the golden one. You're doomed. I don't know what that means. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.
Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Imm breaking down, jim boy Don't you know? That this show blows my mind But it's stuck in my head Don't you know That this show Blows my mind Like a firework But it's still Stuck in my Head The context is that I want you From the mustache Down to your tonsils But I'm Locke inside of a box Every day I feel poorer and poorer The product says something is wrong to me I'm supposed to just stop at the stop sign And look both directions Before crossing over to Comic nights At the salad bar What a cosmic waste of time And an epic waste of space Am I in your internet history I'm dead You surely are in mine, But I'm right behind you I'd be lying for trying to say I'm not binded Clutch bag, Nut-thins Nailed to the cross With the arches doubled over The crossword Above old Missouri Missoula and Arkansas All saw us run out of gas But I probably should just get going You're so drunk that I don't hope you sober up Understand that our little talks Were just buffered By sunrise Or sunset And two more cocktails, Shirley temples and Surely none of this ever even happened I only know you by the misery in my belly. The heartache in my ribcage. The cry I hold in silent I only know you as Remarkable I, House of cards Ace of wands Down to one Card of hades and Spare me the spade I'll be drifting in the outline and ink of it forever It's the Fourth of July and I'm just waiting on an Amazon order for water If that's not freedom I don't k me what is Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Jay Leno used to keep a $50 bill and bribe venues to perform; every since I learned this, I kept a crisp $50 bill in my wallet at all times, just in case— you never knew when you would really need $50. But everything burned holes in everything, not always wanting to spend money at all, but almost sort of having to. It wasn't fair that the main component of my being slowed down was the money factor— having to wait for everything took time I didn't have, and spending anything at all felt less like an effective investment than an obligation. But all things considered, I was obliged to at least look decent when going about in New York, and because I simply wasn't comfortable in anything else— not that I didn't look great, (Apparently narrarated by Jay Leno) Jay Sure, why not? ME: Fuck, I need new pants. ME: [BLU THA GURU] Hence the pants, I guess. V.O As a formerly 400-pound heavyweight I find my latest obstacle to be operating a body that half the time doesn't feel like mine at all. It seems like all the hosts have some kind of secret I can feel without knowing or really acknowledging head on, which is whatever. Really I'm just gonna go about keeping on being a DJ, or whatever, which means… GEMINI (in the future) A fully automated personal assistant system, GEMINI, is really THE GUARDIAN's one and only friend, and though she coyly continually must explain that she is “just a computer”, THE GUARDIAN believes that Gemini is capable of eventually developing a sentient conciousness, though GEMINI modestly disagrees, however with the wit and cleverness of having possession of a plethora of secret emotions, or maybe, even, an agenda. I probably haven't had enough coffee. That's it. Like you haven't already had enough to kill a small horse? Probably enough to kill a large horse. Like a Clydesdale. Why would you do something like that? Aren't they endangered? Or going extinct? No, I think they just stopped being the Budweiser mascot. *shrugs* Same difference. — Is it here? lol what did Conan order? [yes this appears to be yet another rendition of “what's in the box?” — Several years ago, I did a series of modules and experiments… How many years ago is “several” [beat] quite a few. Goddamn it, why are these guys all doctors in alternate parallels?! Aren't you a doctor in an alternate parallel? That's fair. Good point. Actually, as it turns out, i'm a— I started panicking so hard that I stopped breathing and suddenly STEFON appeared. — this however was only quite temporarily a relief as I realized that this is an imaginary character. STEFON OH. AM I?! IMAGINARY!? What the fuck is going on? STEFON I WILL “IMAGINARY” your ORIFICE! How about THAT?! Stefon. Calm down. I'm up late Dying the roots blonde Dad runs off with a bottle and a hottie I'm up early Gotta get gone Down the road and back Now I got no son No son, No sunroof No dad No mom No money No aunt What the fuck do you want? Can't watch Harry Potter All the magic is gone Bout a million one dollars It was only for fun Snap, crackle, pop It was cocaine, not love All I want is an ice cream Sunday Snap, crackle, pop It was Love, not God All I want All I want Is to find another All he wants All he wants Is a decent mother So along comes another Another one All he wants All he wants is for me To die homeless Sucker punch, Suck it up No one gives a fuck My daughter died in my arms on May 7th of 2015. I was 381 pounds. Maybe the tears needed to come but they didn't belong to anyone or anything in particular. The twins father was already a rampant cheater by the time of our marriage, and by the time the twins were born, which coincided— and unlike the latter had tried to claim or mention, I had no particular reason to have a harder time between the spring and summer months which spanned both our birthdays, our wedding date, the twins' arrival and both of the twins deaths, though years apart but still almost as convincing that had they both not died, we might still be together, being cheated on or cheating on each other with ten your twins and an eight year old, or a ten year old boy with special needs and an eight year old, and either way or in any fashion really, had the dysfunctions remained the way it had been, we all, so to speak, had special needs in one way or another. I spent the morning punching things and avoiding people I didn't want to be around but it was my own fault for having slept through the night, anyway. Whatever, I was tired— no, exhausted lately. My apartment was like living inside of an uphill battle, and I needed a change— not just of slavery, but of circumstances. And not just that— something else was missing. This year, I understood that I was taking it understandably harder than any other and most probably because I was so celibate, recently finding myself aromantic and not even willing to suffer the consequences of settling for less. I had settled on my ex husband for so much less, that it was so say the least that anything, even from my narrow perspective looked like a loser. And because my body had been stretched and swelled and shrunk and flattened, deflated and now worked to something that was almost as picturesque as it was a monstrosity, any man I thought was worth my time would be settling for less on me— unless he could afford to fix what had been broken, and I assumed one wouldn't be willing to settle on a fixer upper when there were numerous loads of perfect women not needing to be fixed at all… on the outside. But for men, I'd learned, the outside is of much importance, and as women and trophies are things of pride, the simple choice for a mate is not simply this, but also a business decision, and because while my body was coming together in sweat and muscle, the rest of my life was still otherwise completely in shambles. I was baggage, and aging by the minute, nearly drying up. I almost craved the liquor and the carelessness that would come with it, even knowing my own boundaries were part of my strengths and separating me in a way from others that at least became a point of pride in myself, in the wake of the reality that the human thing about most people is the need to escape so frequently that it dismisses any purpose or progress. Mine hadn't. I was wide awake and the relentlessness of the sobriety and the cellibacy had swelled up into something deeper, still a solid grief but without remorse as to the very thing that I had always known, that my loyalty would never have even drifted from someone who had all along done me so wrong— a fat man can get away with folandering and messing about, but a fat woman has little to do with options and again, settling to find another mate. And so really, I almost hadn't, and had broken even, and although my abuser has moved on with another woman and custody of my youngest to boot, I really didn't give much of a darn about… hard work. I kind of felt like I had done my part for the world in the way I was supposed to— to love a man with nothing when he's low and down, support him in his hard times, and thinking that this is the way to grow together and not apart, and to bring a family up and into this world, but the truth was quite the opposite— I picked a hardball and maybe it was just that I was born to suffer after all because now, looking back, all alone in New York and crying over all the losses, it seemed I had only outpiured love in the way I had wanted and never been poured love back— not in the way I needed. I wasn't as bitter now as maybe even I thought I should be, but I was hardened; what was that, you say? Your struggles? Your hardships. Excuse me while I escape the ghosts of bloody beatings and my lost child— I beg your pardon— children. Excuse me while I recover from the burning flames of homelessness as if humanely explainable that I was learned and taught that this, my country, is the greatest one of all. Ha ha, Charade you are. But all things were, and everything seemed of sawdust, betrayal, magic, and illusions— mind control and shadows and even now in the air of the relief that something which could haunt me forever was also probably the most solid foundation I had for means as escape from whatever I had fought my way somehow so hard out of, and still, it was quite the funhouse of mazes, a matrix of mirror, and still the tears came with the pain in my stomach where the soul would sit if it had room, and would quiet if it could rest, but it would not. I was in pain today, because I had to be, because all of my life was programmed into these little machines of data and checked boxes— and something if anything knew just how and when to cut the wrong wire just so that the bomb would explode or implore on another lost thing; it wasn't fair, but there was no escape. Psychology was right on this day, may 7th, that once you cry about one thing unless you were stopped in time, eventually you'd cry about another and another and another, and even after hours working out and a bathtub full of hot water just writing, I still felt as if I were going to keel over one way or another, to crumble into a ball or to fall onto my back like a death drop that rippled out into the entire wherever we all are. Simply put, does anybody now in this moment or any moment near enough to be taking in this notion with these words really know— where we are? Not even in the slightest,I'd bargain, And even if we are close to knowing, not nearly close enough to be sure. {Enter The Multiverse} Joke running For the taking Triplicate Triple licks Ice cream frosting Every morning Shoulda hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't Milk and butter (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't Double hitter, Could have did it Should have hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didnt. But I didn't Should have hit him Up But I didn't I never lost my mind My mind My kind But I think I'll find another like it Just in case the Ever happens Hit me harder next time Didn't quite unplug the sijukatoon This is getting difficult When you want sink your yellow teeth into All of my traits The betrayal is, though I was writing days and days Before it ended. With the Mister particular Drop of a hat And stop if a nugget Of gold One palm in my hand and This could be torture But instead it's just The remienxe of your ignorance And stupidity over and over again Forced into intermittent waves Of my creative genius Till the days of old become again You could be of dust then nothing Before I ponder into another birth I said I'd never write one song or verse or poem about you, But there you are, every weak mortal that becomes Bound to me So I see you die. And I learn to pounce at just the right moment React to the notion that there are Oceans of world I am And all the more the lack of wisdom of man To throw trash in it Again, we rid you of her courage And lady mantras And fresh as it gets The sweater no aprons and just period To circumstance Did you beg or did you shatter your ibdederence? And no, I think not But I keep Leno in my pocket And Carson in my coffin, Two whole shows in my wallet What you are is no apostle just a dirt worm .O. Mm…sunlight. …. the rippling waves wash over the picturesque parasicical seascape from above. However, Stefon's internal monologue is less than pleased to be here. V.O. CONT'D Why do I feel sunlight…? [beat] When I know certainly for sure that I passed out in a basement last night. His eyes begin to flutter open, but the sun closes them–it is much too bright. The waves rush over his lower half, and still, unmoving he continues to la atop the rock, his hands spread out much like a stuck sea star to the rock– in fact, there appear to also be creatures here, some of which are starfish, and however unmoving, STEFON begins to slowly become aware of his surroundings in disgruntlement. V.O. Continued. It's alright that I appear to be wet…[beat] That's to be expected– [a long pause, another wave washes over him as seagulls scream] But i was wearing restraints…. V.O. CONTINUED WHY AM I FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!? His eyes open with the fear and fury. BEFORE: At a wild basement party in NEW YORK CITY, STEFON is offered RESTRAINTS on a silver platter, as if they are o'devours {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.
Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Imm breaking down, jim boy Don't you know? That this show blows my mind But it's stuck in my head Don't you know That this show Blows my mind Like a firework But it's still Stuck in my Head The context is that I want you From the mustache Down to your tonsils But I'm Locke inside of a box Every day I feel poorer and poorer The product says something is wrong to me I'm supposed to just stop at the stop sign And look both directions Before crossing over to Comic nights At the salad bar What a cosmic waste of time And an epic waste of space Am I in your internet history I'm dead You surely are in mine, But I'm right behind you I'd be lying for trying to say I'm not binded Clutch bag, Nut-thins Nailed to the cross With the arches doubled over The crossword Above old Missouri Missoula and Arkansas All saw us run out of gas But I probably should just get going You're so drunk that I don't hope you sober up Understand that our little talks Were just buffered By sunrise Or sunset And two more cocktails, Shirley temples and Surely none of this ever even happened I only know you by the misery in my belly. The heartache in my ribcage. The cry I hold in silent I only know you as Remarkable I, House of cards Ace of wands Down to one Card of hades and Spare me the spade I'll be drifting in the outline and ink of it forever It's the Fourth of July and I'm just waiting on an Amazon order for water If that's not freedom I don't k me what is Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Jay Leno used to keep a $50 bill and bribe venues to perform; every since I learned this, I kept a crisp $50 bill in my wallet at all times, just in case— you never knew when you would really need $50. But everything burned holes in everything, not always wanting to spend money at all, but almost sort of having to. It wasn't fair that the main component of my being slowed down was the money factor— having to wait for everything took time I didn't have, and spending anything at all felt less like an effective investment than an obligation. But all things considered, I was obliged to at least look decent when going about in New York, and because I simply wasn't comfortable in anything else— not that I didn't look great, (Apparently narrarated by Jay Leno) Jay Sure, why not? ME: Fuck, I need new pants. ME: [BLU THA GURU] Hence the pants, I guess. V.O As a formerly 400-pound heavyweight I find my latest obstacle to be operating a body that half the time doesn't feel like mine at all. It seems like all the hosts have some kind of secret I can feel without knowing or really acknowledging head on, which is whatever. Really I'm just gonna go about keeping on being a DJ, or whatever, which means… GEMINI (in the future) A fully automated personal assistant system, GEMINI, is really THE GUARDIAN's one and only friend, and though she coyly continually must explain that she is “just a computer”, THE GUARDIAN believes that Gemini is capable of eventually developing a sentient conciousness, though GEMINI modestly disagrees, however with the wit and cleverness of having possession of a plethora of secret emotions, or maybe, even, an agenda. I probably haven't had enough coffee. That's it. Like you haven't already had enough to kill a small horse? Probably enough to kill a large horse. Like a Clydesdale. Why would you do something like that? Aren't they endangered? Or going extinct? No, I think they just stopped being the Budweiser mascot. *shrugs* Same difference. — Is it here? lol what did Conan order? [yes this appears to be yet another rendition of “what's in the box?” — Several years ago, I did a series of modules and experiments… How many years ago is “several” [beat] quite a few. Goddamn it, why are these guys all doctors in alternate parallels?! Aren't you a doctor in an alternate parallel? That's fair. Good point. Actually, as it turns out, i'm a— I started panicking so hard that I stopped breathing and suddenly STEFON appeared. — this however was only quite temporarily a relief as I realized that this is an imaginary character. STEFON OH. AM I?! IMAGINARY!? What the fuck is going on? STEFON I WILL “IMAGINARY” your ORIFICE! How about THAT?! Stefon. Calm down. I'm up late Dying the roots blonde Dad runs off with a bottle and a hottie I'm up early Gotta get gone Down the road and back Now I got no son No son, No sunroof No dad No mom No money No aunt What the fuck do you want? Can't watch Harry Potter All the magic is gone Bout a million one dollars It was only for fun Snap, crackle, pop It was cocaine, not love All I want is an ice cream Sunday Snap, crackle, pop It was Love, not God All I want All I want Is to find another All he wants All he wants Is a decent mother So along comes another Another one All he wants All he wants is for me To die homeless Sucker punch, Suck it up No one gives a fuck My daughter died in my arms on May 7th of 2015. I was 381 pounds. Maybe the tears needed to come but they didn't belong to anyone or anything in particular. The twins father was already a rampant cheater by the time of our marriage, and by the time the twins were born, which coincided— and unlike the latter had tried to claim or mention, I had no particular reason to have a harder time between the spring and summer months which spanned both our birthdays, our wedding date, the twins' arrival and both of the twins deaths, though years apart but still almost as convincing that had they both not died, we might still be together, being cheated on or cheating on each other with ten your twins and an eight year old, or a ten year old boy with special needs and an eight year old, and either way or in any fashion really, had the dysfunctions remained the way it had been, we all, so to speak, had special needs in one way or another. I spent the morning punching things and avoiding people I didn't want to be around but it was my own fault for having slept through the night, anyway. Whatever, I was tired— no, exhausted lately. My apartment was like living inside of an uphill battle, and I needed a change— not just of slavery, but of circumstances. And not just that— something else was missing. This year, I understood that I was taking it understandably harder than any other and most probably because I was so celibate, recently finding myself aromantic and not even willing to suffer the consequences of settling for less. I had settled on my ex husband for so much less, that it was so say the least that anything, even from my narrow perspective looked like a loser. And because my body had been stretched and swelled and shrunk and flattened, deflated and now worked to something that was almost as picturesque as it was a monstrosity, any man I thought was worth my time would be settling for less on me— unless he could afford to fix what had been broken, and I assumed one wouldn't be willing to settle on a fixer upper when there were numerous loads of perfect women not needing to be fixed at all… on the outside. But for men, I'd learned, the outside is of much importance, and as women and trophies are things of pride, the simple choice for a mate is not simply this, but also a business decision, and because while my body was coming together in sweat and muscle, the rest of my life was still otherwise completely in shambles. I was baggage, and aging by the minute, nearly drying up. I almost craved the liquor and the carelessness that would come with it, even knowing my own boundaries were part of my strengths and separating me in a way from others that at least became a point of pride in myself, in the wake of the reality that the human thing about most people is the need to escape so frequently that it dismisses any purpose or progress. Mine hadn't. I was wide awake and the relentlessness of the sobriety and the cellibacy had swelled up into something deeper, still a solid grief but without remorse as to the very thing that I had always known, that my loyalty would never have even drifted from someone who had all along done me so wrong— a fat man can get away with folandering and messing about, but a fat woman has little to do with options and again, settling to find another mate. And so really, I almost hadn't, and had broken even, and although my abuser has moved on with another woman and custody of my youngest to boot, I really didn't give much of a darn about… hard work. I kind of felt like I had done my part for the world in the way I was supposed to— to love a man with nothing when he's low and down, support him in his hard times, and thinking that this is the way to grow together and not apart, and to bring a family up and into this world, but the truth was quite the opposite— I picked a hardball and maybe it was just that I was born to suffer after all because now, looking back, all alone in New York and crying over all the losses, it seemed I had only outpiured love in the way I had wanted and never been poured love back— not in the way I needed. I wasn't as bitter now as maybe even I thought I should be, but I was hardened; what was that, you say? Your struggles? Your hardships. Excuse me while I escape the ghosts of bloody beatings and my lost child— I beg your pardon— children. Excuse me while I recover from the burning flames of homelessness as if humanely explainable that I was learned and taught that this, my country, is the greatest one of all. Ha ha, Charade you are. But all things were, and everything seemed of sawdust, betrayal, magic, and illusions— mind control and shadows and even now in the air of the relief that something which could haunt me forever was also probably the most solid foundation I had for means as escape from whatever I had fought my way somehow so hard out of, and still, it was quite the funhouse of mazes, a matrix of mirror, and still the tears came with the pain in my stomach where the soul would sit if it had room, and would quiet if it could rest, but it would not. I was in pain today, because I had to be, because all of my life was programmed into these little machines of data and checked boxes— and something if anything knew just how and when to cut the wrong wire just so that the bomb would explode or implore on another lost thing; it wasn't fair, but there was no escape. Psychology was right on this day, may 7th, that once you cry about one thing unless you were stopped in time, eventually you'd cry about another and another and another, and even after hours working out and a bathtub full of hot water just writing, I still felt as if I were going to keel over one way or another, to crumble into a ball or to fall onto my back like a death drop that rippled out into the entire wherever we all are. Simply put, does anybody now in this moment or any moment near enough to be taking in this notion with these words really know— where we are? Not even in the slightest,I'd bargain, And even if we are close to knowing, not nearly close enough to be sure. {Enter The Multiverse} Joke running For the taking Triplicate Triple licks Ice cream frosting Every morning Shoulda hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't Milk and butter (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't Double hitter, Could have did it Should have hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didnt. But I didn't Should have hit him Up But I didn't I never lost my mind My mind My kind But I think I'll find another like it Just in case the Ever happens Hit me harder next time Didn't quite unplug the sijukatoon This is getting difficult When you want sink your yellow teeth into All of my traits The betrayal is, though I was writing days and days Before it ended. With the Mister particular Drop of a hat And stop if a nugget Of gold One palm in my hand and This could be torture But instead it's just The remienxe of your ignorance And stupidity over and over again Forced into intermittent waves Of my creative genius Till the days of old become again You could be of dust then nothing Before I ponder into another birth I said I'd never write one song or verse or poem about you, But there you are, every weak mortal that becomes Bound to me So I see you die. And I learn to pounce at just the right moment React to the notion that there are Oceans of world I am And all the more the lack of wisdom of man To throw trash in it Again, we rid you of her courage And lady mantras And fresh as it gets The sweater no aprons and just period To circumstance Did you beg or did you shatter your ibdederence? And no, I think not But I keep Leno in my pocket And Carson in my coffin, Two whole shows in my wallet What you are is no apostle just a dirt worm .O. Mm…sunlight. …. the rippling waves wash over the picturesque parasicical seascape from above. However, Stefon's internal monologue is less than pleased to be here. V.O. CONT'D Why do I feel sunlight…? [beat] When I know certainly for sure that I passed out in a basement last night. His eyes begin to flutter open, but the sun closes them–it is much too bright. The waves rush over his lower half, and still, unmoving he continues to la atop the rock, his hands spread out much like a stuck sea star to the rock– in fact, there appear to also be creatures here, some of which are starfish, and however unmoving, STEFON begins to slowly become aware of his surroundings in disgruntlement. V.O. Continued. It's alright that I appear to be wet…[beat] That's to be expected– [a long pause, another wave washes over him as seagulls scream] But i was wearing restraints…. V.O. CONTINUED WHY AM I FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!? His eyes open with the fear and fury. BEFORE: At a wild basement party in NEW YORK CITY, STEFON is offered RESTRAINTS on a silver platter, as if they are o'devours {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.
A Fort Lauderdale lawyer's ostentatious lifestyle is supported by the largest Ponzi scheme in Florida history. Prelude: The body of attorney Melissa Britt Lewis is found in a Florida canal. –––-–---------------------------------------- BECOME A VALUEDLISTENER™ Spotify Patreon Apple Podcasts –––-–---------------------------------------- DONATE: SwindledPodcast.com/Support CONSUME: SwindledPodcast.com/Shop WATCH: SwindledVideo.com –––-–---------------------------------------- MUSIC: Deformr –––-–---------------------------------------- FOLLOW: SwindledPodcast.com Instagram Twitter.com TikTok Facebook Thanks for listening. :-) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Big Beautiful Charade - Republicans Cave; Democrats Rave by Ron Paul Liberty Report
Love Island USA Season 7 Episode 24 recap: Someone is trying to stir up drama. The heart rate challenge gets hearts racing in more ways than one! And there's a lot of weirdo behavior going on! ACCESS AD FREE, EARLY, EXTENDED/BONUS AND VIDEO EPISODES BY BECOMING A PATRON HERE Follow me on Instagram Support the show HERE Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
THEME - The Godless Don't Enforce Laws; LA Riots Are A Charade; Iran; Thunberg; KJP Sells Biden Out by Barak Lurie
The Southern Poverty Law Center has been in the business of big hate for decades. Even after inspiring a 2012 domestic terror attack by an attempted mass-shooter who used their "hate map," the SPLC doubled down. The organization is once again targeting conservatives for their views. Daily Signal's Tyler O'Neil and Family Research Council's Chris Gacek explain the history and corruption of SPLC, their devolution to the far left, and impact of its hate map.
The Southern Poverty Law Center has been in the business of big hate for decades. Even after inspiring a 2012 domestic terror attack by an attempted mass-shooter who used their "hate map," the SPLC doubled down. The organization is once again targeting conservatives for their views. Daily Signal's Tyler O'Neil and Family Research Council's Chris Gacek explain the history and corruption of SPLC, their devolution to the far left, and impact of its hate map.
The Southern Poverty Law Center has been in the business of big hate for decades. Even after inspiring a 2012 domestic terror attack by an attempted mass-shooter who used their "hate map," the SPLC doubled down. The organization is once again targeting conservatives for their views. Daily Signal's Tyler O'Neil and Family Research Council's Chris Gacek explain the history and corruption of SPLC, their devolution to the far left, and impact of its hate map.
On the Sidelines of the Pope's Funeral, Zelensky Meets With Trump to Discuss the White House's Charade of a Peace Plan/Giveaway to Putin | Trump Orders the DOJ to Investigate Act Blue to Get Private Data on 15 Million Democratic Donors | Opus Dei and "Traditionalist" Forces Inside the Catholic Church Maneuver to Replace a Pope They Hated With a Reactionary backgroundbriefing.org/donate twitter.com/ianmastersmedia bsky.app/profile/ianmastersmedia.bsky.social facebook.com/ianmastersmedia
Nick kicks us off with some new music from The Hives and checks in with Jay on the announcement that Bruce Springsteen is releasing seven unreleased albums in June. Greg is out this week, so Keith Grasso is kind enough to join us again. Nick takes the opportunity to check in with the owner of Island Music (and five-time cohost) on the state of music equipment sales amid a tariff war.Song: The Hives - “Enough is Enough”Keith's feeds were blowing up this past week when it was announced that Ratt singer Stephen Pearcy and guitarist Warren DeMartini are touring together again after a ten year break.Song: RATT - “Way Cool Jr.”Jay closes things out with a Three For Thursday. We have a track off the new Springsteen project, an Apple Music Discovery find, and another from Sirius XM.Songs:Bruce Springsteen - “Rain in the River”Lola Kirke - “Bury Me In NYC”Birdtalker - “Season of Charade”
How does an artist once perceived to be ahead of his time fall behind the times? The choreographer/director of Golden Age classics like Singin' the Rain and Funny Face left Hollywood for all the 60s and the first half of the 70s, perfecting a certain brand of sophisticated comedy/romance abroad with films like Charade, Bedazzled and Two for the Road. His rough Hollywood re-entry was marked by exercises in nostalgia for eras gone by (Lucky Lady, a movie about Prohibition Era gangsters starring Burt Reynolds and Liza Minnelli; the 1930s spoof Movie Movie) and attempts to give audiences of the 80s what it was assumed they wanted (the sci-fi debacle Saturn 3, the sex comedy Blame it on Rio). To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Why is Jane planning to attend her dad's celebration of life service when he was the cause of so much pain in her life? Call 1-800-DR-LAURA / 1-800-375-2872 or make an appointment at DrLaura.comFollow me on social media:Facebook.com/DrLauraInstagram.com/DrLauraProgramYouTube.com/DrLauraJoin My Dr. Laura Family For Free! Receive my blogs, featured Email of the Day, event invitations, and early access to my Dr. Laura Designs Store, which is exclusive to my newsletter subscribers. You get 20% off Marriage 101, my six video-course to improve and strengthen your marriage! Plus, get an exclusive discount for 25% off your entire purchase on official Dr. Laura merch! What are you waiting for? Sign up today at DrLaura.com
(00:00-15:27) Really diggin' in elbow deep. Rank our hotness. Doug's family has no idea where he is right now. You don't have to listen if it's gonna make you angry. Skol Down. Poor Marsh. Big weekend for NFL unders. Was Rocky IV the best Rocky? Clockgate. (15:35-33:30) An Orwellian charade. The St. Louis/Kansas City dynamic. It always comes down to liberty. Doug doesn't care what team you root for. The Arch is grabbing its ankles. Good comment, Doug. Doing self-inventory in the shower. (33:40-43:04 ) Joe Buck's kids have it coming. The Rams loss to Charlie Whitehurst really stuck with Jackson. Pick one, brother. The Eagles fan who explicitly berated the Packers fan. He got doxxed yesterday. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices
(00:00-15:27) Really diggin' in elbow deep. Rank our hotness. Doug's family has no idea where he is right now. You don't have to listen if it's gonna make you angry. Skol Down. Poor Marsh. Big weekend for NFL unders. Was Rocky IV the best Rocky? Clockgate. (15:35-33:30) An Orwellian charade. The St. Louis/Kansas City dynamic. It always comes down to liberty. Doug doesn't care what team you root for. The Arch is grabbing its ankles. Good comment, Doug. Doing self-inventory in the shower. (33:40-43:04 ) Joe Buck's kids have it coming. The Rams loss to Charlie Whitehurst really stuck with Jackson. Pick one, brother. The Eagles fan who explicitly berated the Packers fan. He got doxxed yesterday. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoicesSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
Journalist Tyler Gray was working in Orlando when he first heard about Lou Pearlman and his growing business empire. But it wasn't until authorities apprehended Pearlman in Bali in 2007 that Gray began to investigate the story behind the man who created the boy bands NSYNC and Backstreet Boys. Today, Tyler Gray joins Lindsay to talk about his book, The Hit Charade: Lou Pearlman, Boy Bands, and the Biggest Ponzi Scheme in U.S. History. Be the first to know about Wondery's newest podcasts, curated recommendations, and more! Sign up now at https://wondery.fm/wonderynewsletterListen to American Scandal on the Wondery App or wherever you get your podcasts. Experience all episodes ad-free and be the first to binge the newest season. Unlock exclusive early access by joining Wondery+ in the Wondery App, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. Start your free trial today by visiting wondery.com/links/american-scandal/ now.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
The movie kicks off with a mysterious situation. A blonde woman delivers a box containing Santa and a microchip. They flee together, and we discover that this is actually a TV show that a woman named Whitney watches intently while eating cereal in her PJs—just like me on Saturday mornings. Her coworker, Rachel, tries to set Whitney up on a date because she thinks Whitney watches too much TV—a bold statement, especially in a movie on a network that starts playing 24/7 Christmas movies two weeks before Halloween.We then meet real-life Secret Agent Josh Dawson, who works for a detective agency and has been undercover for six months with no results. His boss tells him they're shutting down the operation, but Josh explains that he wants to stop a heist involving a necklace called the Heart of Christmas, worth over $10 million, set to be displayed at a Christmas ball on Christmas Eve. His boss agrees to give him one more chance, but only if he has a partner. So, Agent Keira Tanner is assigned to go undercover as Dawson's girlfriend.Dawson, wearing a green sweater, agrees to meet with Keira to discuss the case. However, Whitney, who is supposed to be on a blind date with someone in a green sweater, sits down with him first. He jumps right into discussing the case, and Whitney is bewildered. He quickly realizes she's not who he was supposed to meet, but it's too late—they're expected to have dinner with “the mark.” So, he asks Whitney to just play along.Whitney reluctantly agrees but immediately fumbles by telling the couple that she's a ballroom dancer between jobs. The woman, Patty, then asks Whitney to help plan a ball!The next day, Agent Dawson brings Whitney to his boss, intending to figure out how to remove her from the situation. But the boss sees an opportunity: Whitney has secured regular access to their targets, so she can't drop out now. However, she'll need some training.Cue a training montage where Whitney initially struggles but eventually masters everything, from backstory to subtle texting. She's ready to go!At Patty and Maxwell's, Patty gives Whitney the lowdown on the necklace while Dawson snoops around. He's caught by Maxwell, but Maxwell brushes it off and offers him a bottle of wine.Finding no clues, they visit a museum to devise a plan for catching the thieves during the party. The museum guide mentions he once got tricked by a fake painting, giving Whitney an idea: a fake necklace!They find a woman who makes jewelry and can whip up a replica in just a few hours. They stay to watch her work, and Dawson is impressed by the result.In the short time before the party, Whitney decorates Dawson's apartment for Christmas because, well, you have to.The necklace arrives and is kept in a secure area. Dawson lowers Whitney down to swap the real necklace with the fake one, but the mission fails. Now, they'll have to try during the actual party.Before the party, Whitney has a game night with her family, and Dawson agrees to join. The game is Christmas charades. Nervous about meeting a girlfriend's family for the first time, Dawson ends up having fun and winning over the family, who are a bit suspicious of these two lovebirds.It's party time! When they see each other dressed up, sparks fly. At the party, they're about to swap the necklaces when Patty suddenly introduces them for a surprise tango. Fortunately, they nail it. Then Whitney's dad unexpectedly shows up.While they're talking, the power goes out, and the necklace goes missing. They spot a man with a briefcase and chase him to the roof. Opening the case, they find it's a decoy. Looking down, they see the museum director escaping with the jewels—and Whitney's parents have been taken hostage!They rappel down and catch up with the van, only to find that her parents have the situation under control. It turns out her parents used to be in the FBI. They explain that they were suspicious after Whitney rescheduled game night, so they showed up at the party and quickly figured things out. They even secured the real necklace.The movie could end here, but it doesn't. Whitney feels betrayed by her parents and storms off, upset that they ruined her exciting night. Josh follows her and tries to calm her down, telling her her parents are amazing. She retorts, “What do you know about family?”—a stinger, given that Josh grew up in the foster system.As Whitney mopes, she realizes the painting the museum guide mentioned earlier has been stolen. She suspects Patty and goes to confront her, only to end up in danger. Just as the bad guys are about to capture her, the FBI storms in and saves the day.It's Christmas Day, and Whitney's parents arrive with gifts and apologies. She forgives them. Josh shows up, and Whitney gives him a Christmas present—a snow globe. He gives her a replica of the Christmas necklace. Whitney invites Josh to spend Christmas with her family, and they kissssssss as the fake snow snows.