Podcasts about Comanche

Tiene la musica espanola rimas rarunas? Nuria Torreblanca desarrolla una hipotesis y aporta pruebas, Miqui Otero nos trae historias de barcos que se hunden con deshonor y Alberto Rey nos cuenta como se ve Espana fuera a traves del cine y las series. Es el Territorio Comanche.

Ce vendredi, nous retrouvons notre ShiShi de retour du Japon et avons le plaisir de recevoir 2 joueurs de Live de la nouvelle garde : Yohan Rascar : ancien voiturier à Paris, il devient ensuite taxi, il découvre le poker en 2018 dans des parties familiale et se prend au jeu au Cercle Clichy. C'est un peu plus tard en 2023/2024 qu'il s'y consacre un peu plus et se lance sérieusement cette année - termine 11e à l'EPT Barcelone pour plus de 100k€. Sa régularité devrait l'aider à vivre du poker dès 2026. Adrien Amorella : à 22 ans, il doit arrêter le foot de haut niveau (en CFA) et monte un peu plus tard une société dans le génie climatique (Caldya) avec son frère et des amis d'enfance. A 38 ans, il joue déjà depuis 17 ans et un peu plus sérieusement sur le circuit Live (EPT, WSOP, WPT) depuis 3 ans avec plusieurs dizaines d'ITM sympatiques (une 3e place dans le HR WSOP-C Marrakech, une 8e place au Sismix 2025). Une régularité grandissante qui va l'amener vers une belle  victoire. Présentation : Comanche et ShiShi Streaming : Clara Réalisation et montage : Gabriel Club Poker Radio vous est présentée par Winamax, le n°1 du poker en ligne.   Perte d'argent, conflits familiaux, addiction… Les jeux d'argent sont interdits aux moins de 18 ans et peuvent être dangereux. En cas de besoin, contactez le 09 74 75 13 13.

Nuria Torreblanca, Miqui Otero y Joana Bonet analizan el peso de los nombres y como nos condicionan los apellidos, los 50 anos de alguien volo sobre el nido del cuco, y las mujeres que arrollan desde Colette a Rosalia.

They were told not to speak their language. Those respective languages helped win wars and save countless lives. In episode 109, Laurel takes the Smoke Circle through the incredible story of the Indigenous code talkers of World War I and II--the Navajo, Comanche, and other Native American men whose voices became unbreakable codes in the Pacific and European fronts. Their history is a story of courage and cultural resilience.~~~~~*The Socials and Patreon!Patreon-- ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠The Best Buds Club!⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠ - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@HighTalesofHistory⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠  TikTok⁠- ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@HighTalesofHistoryPod⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠  YouTube-- ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@High Tales of History⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Facebook⁠ -⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠High Tales of History or ⁠⁠@HighTalesofHistory ⁠Email—hightailingthroughhistory@gmail.com⁠ ~~~~~*Mentioned in the Stories:Extra Articles:⁠Picture of Donald Trump with the code talkers in 2017Whose Land Are You On?~~~~~~*Source Material and References:Reid, Darren R. Native American racism in the age of Donald Trump: Historical and contemporary perspectives. Cham, Switzerland: Palgrave Macmillan, 2020.Code Talker: The First and Only Memoir By One of the Original Codetalkers of WWIIhttps://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11437988-code-talkerhttps://www.jstor.org/stable/41054076?read-now=1&seq=7#page_scan_tab_contentshttps://www.jstor.org/stable/42575905?read-now=1&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contentshttps://americanindian.si.edu/why-we-serve/topics/code-talkers/https://www.nationalgeographic.com/history/article/navajo-code-talkers-wwii?loggedin=true&rnd=1759117609417https://www.history.com/articles/world-war-is-native-american-code-talkershttps://www.history.com/articles/wwii-navajo-code-talker-fleming-begaye-deadhttps://www.pbs.org/native-america/blog/legacy-of-trauma-the-impact-of-american-indian-boarding-schools-across-generations~~~~~~~*Intro/outro music: "Loopster" by Kevin MacLeod (⁠incompetech.com⁠) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

They were told not to speak their language. Those respective languages helped win wars and save countless lives. In episode 109, Laurel takes the Smoke Circle through the incredible story of the Indigenous code talkers of World War I and II--the Navajo, Comanche, and other Native American men whose voices became unbreakable codes in the Pacific and European fronts. Their history is a story of courage and cultural resilience.~~~~~*The Socials and Patreon!Patreon-- ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠The Best Buds Club!⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠ - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@HighTalesofHistory⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠  TikTok⁠- ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@HighTalesofHistoryPod⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠  YouTube-- ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@High Tales of History⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Facebook⁠ -⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠High Tales of History or ⁠⁠@HighTalesofHistory ⁠Email—hightailingthroughhistory@gmail.com⁠ ~~~~~*Mentioned in the Stories:Extra Articles:⁠Picture of Donald Trump with the code talkers in 2017Whose Land Are You On?~~~~~~*Source Material and References:Reid, Darren R. Native American racism in the age of Donald Trump: Historical and contemporary perspectives. Cham, Switzerland: Palgrave Macmillan, 2020.Code Talker: The First and Only Memoir By One of the Original Codetalkers of WWIIhttps://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11437988-code-talkerhttps://www.jstor.org/stable/41054076?read-now=1&seq=7#page_scan_tab_contentshttps://www.jstor.org/stable/42575905?read-now=1&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contentshttps://americanindian.si.edu/why-we-serve/topics/code-talkers/https://www.nationalgeographic.com/history/article/navajo-code-talkers-wwii?loggedin=true&rnd=1759117609417https://www.history.com/articles/world-war-is-native-american-code-talkershttps://www.history.com/articles/wwii-navajo-code-talker-fleming-begaye-deadhttps://www.pbs.org/native-america/blog/legacy-of-trauma-the-impact-of-american-indian-boarding-schools-across-generations~~~~~~~*Intro/outro music: "Loopster" by Kevin MacLeod (⁠incompetech.com⁠) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

Nous avons l'honneur et le plaisir de recevoir ce jeudi au studio 2 amis - passionnés de poker - membres des 5 Fantastiques que vous connaissez grâce à  BonjourBaptiste : Kévin Mimouni : 36 ans, directeur artistique et graphiste, il bosse dans une agence spécialisée dans l'habillage d'émissions TV, et est aussi directeur artistique pour une marque de lunettes. Il vient de ship son ticket pour la finale du WiPT dès la première étape toulousaine. Ses premiers pas au poker remontent à 2006 ... il ne joue que pour le plaisir en grindant les petites limites avec 2k€ de BR montés à partir de 10€ en 3 années. Stéphanie Delannoy aka Ninoo : 36 ans, chercheuse en métallurgie, elle joue depuis 20 ans mais avait mis le poker en pause durant ses études. C'est dans un bar Redcactus tenu par des amis qu'elle reprend goût au jeu et atterri au Paname Poker Club tout en rejoignant les 4 Fantastiques à l'occasion du King 5 2025. Elle a remporté le Ladies du WPO Bratislava en 2024 mais aussi l'After Foot.  Présentation : Comanche Streaming : Clara Réalisation et montage : Gabriel Club Poker Radio vous est présentée par Winamax, le n°1 du poker en ligne.   Perte d'argent, conflits familiaux, addiction… Les jeux d'argent sont interdits aux moins de 18 ans et peuvent être dangereux. En cas de besoin, contactez le 09 74 75 13 13.

Indie, R'n'B, HipHop, Rock, Blues, Powwow, Country, Pop, OST, Rap and Ambient from the musicians of the Choctaw, Cree, Navajo, Anishinabe, Lakota, Metis, Peguis, Yaqui, Shoshone, Comanche, Navajo, Pikuni, Aztec, Cherokee and Muscogee Nations. Brought to you by⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Tunes From Turtle Island⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ and⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Pantheon Podcasts⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠. If you like the music you hear, go out and buy/stream some of it. :) All these artists need your support. Tracks on this week's show are: Samantha Crain & Wilderado - Cherry Plumb Tia Wood - Sage My Soul Idealraps - Lonely Man Mahihkan Music - Lucid Blue Moon Marquee & Northern Cree - Rollin' & Tumblin' William Prince - Thousand Miles Of Chain Pj Vegas & Tippie & Stella Standingbear - The Buffalo Know (Tippie Remix) Turquoise Steel - Soul Dimension Dustin Thomas - When In Rome Autumn Ever Land - For You Los Cogelones - Escucho tu Corazon Tony Enos - Snow Falling On Pumpkins (OST) B. Fabian - The Man I Used To Be MC Wicks & Level 13 - A Child From The Ghetto Thousand Voice & Irie Love - Woods T H R O N E - The Land Remembers All songs on this podcast are owned by the artist(s) and are used for educational purposes only. All songs can be found for purchase or streaming wherever you get your great music. Please pick up these amazing tracks and support these artists. More info on the show ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠here⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 27 Appreciation? In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             Children must face the scrutiny of their parents     The Dining Hall was almost a relief. That relief died the moment I saw the banner over the front of the serving area in the Hall. 'Zane Appreciation Day'. Since every word was spelled correctly, it wasn't some stunt of Rio's, but beyond that, the list of suspects was too large to consider. This could be a genuine outpouring of acceptance and sympathy for what I had endured here. If you believe that, I have to ask you: 'Do you want your leprechaun pissing Guinness or Irish Malt?'   Most likely, this was going to be some sort of humiliation, and I think I knew the flavor, and I definitely knew how to find out. See, in every seat of the Dining Hall was a big, bowling ball sized white box with a name and secured with a gold and green ribbon, so no cheating; no peeking. That last bit didn't deter me, though. I snuck up on the box marked for Holiday Carpenter.   "Zane, does that have your name on it?" Virginia Goodswell asked me, my English teacher and Spiritual Advisor. Hell, if it had been Mrs. Marlowe, I would have opened it anyway, but Virginia was my buddy so her next question didn't mean to stab a stake of regret through my heart. "Where is Vivian?"   "I left my room before she was done." I looked to the ground while I kicked some imaginary dust off the slate floor.   "Why don't you see if she's been calling you?" she suggested. "She's probably worried." Worried, or homicidal because, ya know, I had sort of run off without my phone, wallet, watch, book bag, or anything else a 21st century student might need.   "I ran away like a big, fat chicken," I confessed. "Anything not glued to my body I left behind."   "I'll give her a call." She pulled out her phone and hit speed dial #2. I crap since her sick mother is probably #1. I am such a big problem for her, she has my guardian on speed dial! "That is Holiday Carpenter's box, Zane, not yours. Besides, there are strict instructions to not open the boxes until instructed."   The panicky response I overheard from Virginia's conversation with Vivian hardly helped my mood. She wanted to know if Virginia knew where I was, she did; that I was okay, I was; and finally, what upset me, because the other girls weren't talking but apparently Mercy had started slapping Barbie Lynn around until Rio and Val pulled her off. Now, that made less than no sense. Wasn't that supposed to work the other way around?   Virginia did a double check and sure enough, Mercy had slammed Barbie Lynn into an open wardrobe on my behalf, and Rio and Val had pulled her back. WTF! I am sure that Rio was right beside me on that one. Vivian triple checked that I was physically and mentally okay and she sounded so disappointed, in herself, as she did so. She was bringing my stuff; yes, I am an earthworm. Virginia promised for me that I would remain here until she arrived.   Some stupid gesture like a loud public apology, done on bended knee, was blatantly unfair to Vivian, who only meant the best for me. I made a quick apology, not trying to meet her eyes as I said the words and took my stuff. All of 'my' girls seemed equally subdued. A minute after we had garnered our victuals, Vivian put a hand on my elbow.   "Don't be so hard on yourself, Zane," Vivian smiled warmly at me. "You take a lot of stress and pressure on yourself. I understand that from time to time you need to take in a tiny bit of private space for yourself. Clearly, you can't schedule any such time because nothing around you stays a secret for very long and no one respects your privacy or even asks what you need."   "Vivian," I was puzzled, "you deserve to be righteously pissed with me. You are my Guardian and I promised to stay by you or at least tell you where I was."   "Zane, we let you down," Vivian assured me. "It is your dorm room and we are your guests, and we have been rather poor guests at that."   "How about we call a truce?" I offer.   "I can live with that," Vivian smiled.   "Cut the Kumbaya-time, kids," Rio snorted derisively. "Zane, what the fuck happened with Mercy?" Rio playfully punched Mercy's arm to emphasize her uncertainty.   "Rio, Bro, drop it," I asked sincerely. "Act like it didn't happen." Rio studied me a second, then got this wickedly evil grin.   "What the hell are you talking about, Glenda?" she hefted the box up then shook it. "It seems my damn box is glued shut. Are we celebrating one thousand cunts licked by you, or what?"   Because Rio rarely expounded at a level below full volume, next thing we hear is Mrs. Marlow snapping, "Ms. Talon, watch your language; there are good Christian women being forced to sit within the sound of your voice!"   "Gotcha, Ms. Mouthful," Rio snapped off with a snap and a finger raised up like a pistol in the air.   "What did you say?" Marlowe closed the distance.   "She was repeating what I pointed out," I turned and smiled. "I said that you really had it going together this morning; that you were more than a mouthful. That's a hip/trending term to describe someone who is expressing themselves through clothing and make-up."   "You are lying, Mr. Braxton," she snarled.   "You are probably right, as I do so to you on general principle, but good luck proving it in student court," I grinned right back. We locked wills and she blinked first.   "Ms. Phillips," Marlowe turned on Vivian, "what are you going to do about this?"   "Zane and Rio, would you please apologize for being rude and insensitive to an educator who only wishes the best for the student body?" Vivian requested.   "I so apologize," I bowed my head.   "I so apologize as well," Rio tacked on. Only after Marlowe had gone to spread love and sunshine somewhere else did Rio lean across me and whisper to Vivian.   "You rock!" Rio giggled gleefully. After all, Rio and I had not apologized to Mrs. Marlowe because neither one of us believed for a minute that she was 'an educator who only wishes the best for the student body'. To that nameless entity, we owed a debt, and to Mrs. Marlow we owed a generous 'fuck you,' and Vivian had made it all possible.   "Why, thank you, Rio," Vivian nodded her acceptance of Rio's praise. "Jesus is the Peacemaker and we all should attempt to emulate his teachings."   "So, I still don't get to lick you senseless?" Rio snickered.   "No, no, you don't," Vivian smiled, even though she didn't look at either of us. Vivian's going to rock as a mom.   The next half hour passed quietly. Everyone was curious about the boxes but no one was too worried until a rumor suddenly appeared. When it was suggested that they might have to put on bikinis, the fear set in. I blamed, I don't know but I wish I had thought of it. I was still kicking myself for the missed opportunity when my alien with the right face black and left face white shows up with the right face white and left face black, Mhain and Millicent.   "Death Match and you get to referee," Rio teased me. "I'm so jealous; 500 bucks on the one with the soul." Mhain glared hate at us while Millicent looked more than amused.   "Zane, come with us," Mhain gloated. I figured that somehow my ordeal was coming to an end so I'd play along. I rose and they steered me to the largest exit, flanking me.   Christina and Company grabbed their boxes and jumped up quickly to follow me, though they looked as confused as I was, confirming none of them were the architect of my discomfort. No sooner had we stepped into the cool, sunlit lawn than everyone's phone rang, except mine. I was loving this, right up there with having sandpaper buffing my sunburned abs.   "Open the box and follow the instructions," Christina informed me. "Is anyone going to do this?" My phone vibrated once, then my whole body tingled before I could respond to the call.   "I am," Mhain gloated. "I was promised something." She knelt and opened her box with enthusiasm; the others did likewise but at a more sedate pace.   What came out of each box was almost identical, different only in the anatomical part of the body indicated by the instructions. The objects were all grapefruit-sized fur-balls that made darling little squeaks, squeals and murmurs, amongst other sympathetic noises, all in tiny little voices. They were to be placed on my body, but I didn't know how that would work.   "Are we going to do this?" Chastity began to say.   "It isn't sticky," Hope was also saying when Mhain's flew out of her hand and hit the side of my left knee. She reached out carefully to retrieve hers while the other girls circled in. The little darlings were proving to be resilient little bastards. Several more leapt at me from the hands of their owners.   All this time the furry grapefruit were giving little 'wee!' noises when they shot at me and screeched like demons when they were removed, which was painful when they were on my flesh. I knew who was responsible and she was going to pay, but not right now. I saw my closest allies pulling back.   "TLM, Christina," I sighed in resignation. "Let's get this over with." I was being totally self-sacrificial; girls were starting to pile-up on us coming out of the Dining Hall. I didn't want a riot. Mhain had technically tagged me first but not in the designated spot, so I had Christina go first, she put one over my heart, not that I thought Cordelia was stupid, but now she was just piling it on.   Mhain went next and she was sizzling and excited, she put it on my lips, shutting me up. At least the girls were polite and organized enough to come at me patiently. A few didn't get the 'memo' and their little rug rats slipped out of their owner's grasp and got to play gleeful kamikaze as they plowed into me.   It didn't hurt but I had this secret fear that the tiny terrors would sprout fangs and tear into me. These little guys were murmuring and mumbling and it wasn't until I was truly buried that a horrific realization was made, the more that were on me, the greater their clinging power. In retrospect, this would have been more useful if we hadn't passed the 700 mark.   I looked like a puffy, overweight, Sasquatch baby. I could move but sitting down was a dream, as was running or going to the bathroom. The damn things wouldn't shut up either. It fell to Hope and Iona to hurry me (as much as possible) to Assembly; you know that place where I 'sit' in front. At least no one could ask me anything with the expectation of receiving an answer.   I no longer wondered how bad it could get; I knew it would get worse, and while I didn't know how, I knew it would be soon. At the start of Assembly my little friends joined in the singing, not using words but in the tinny little noises they made, though admittedly they were enthusiastic and determined. But it gets worse.   There was a discussion on stage after that fiasco about removing me. Chancellor Bazz wanted me gone; Vice Chancellor Scarlett was not in attendance but Virginia took up my cause. After all, it wasn't my fault, she claimed.   "Well, Black, do something," the first three rows heard Bazz demand of our Head of Security.   "I am not an engineer or a chemist," Black replied. "Do you want me to shoot them off him?"   Oh, yeah, my girl Bazz wanted that, so bad. Of course, what she really wanted was for Black to miss, but that wasn't going to happen. Finally, the teachers decided to soldier on. When Chancellor Bazz stepped up to begin services, the frightening fur-balls belted out 'Hail to the Chief.'   No one said a word, not a murmur. Chancellor Bazz stopped and the munchkin chorus stopped too. Two more starts later and she gave up and grudgingly took the 'praise' from my infestation. They were good throughout the message and sermon but took up 'Hail to the Chief' when she tried to leave the podium.   "Do something!" she screamed at Black. This time, Gabrielle sedately headed my way. I didn't want to think of the pain coming my way. My little buddies had my back. When she got within five feet the all screamed, and I mean SCREAMED, in the loudest cacophony most of us present had ever heard. I saw something I thought I would never see; Gabrielle flinched.   Not so oddly, I was fine, hearing almost nothing. The little guys on my ears soaked up the sound so I received a very watered-down version of what they were doing. Gabrielle fell back and at the five foot mark, the little guys shut up, mostly. They seemed to be making comforting noises to one another, like one Zane-sized colony of brown mold.   "Get away from him; just get away from him," good old Doctor Melrose Bazz pleaded as she moved her hands away from her ears. "Braxton, you stop this right now." I had a wee beastie on my mouth and Bazz was not on the small list of people I would devour this thing for. If she's looking for a conversation today, she's out of luck. She throws her hands up in desperation and starts to storm off. My little cock-sucking furry gonads (yes, I was getting angry) fired up 'Hail to the Chief' yet again, and kept at it until she sat down. Virginia got to thinking it's appropriate to call for the end of this travesty but she's dealing with Cordelia Dresden, Top Gun of the Time Lord Mafia. The weapon of choice; 'She's a Lady' by some guy named Tom Jones, the ladies in my life will inform me about this later.   For a half a second she tries to fight her smile but she surrenders, even letting the little guys go through the entire score before talking. The little tinny voices were humming a song I didn't know but damn it, it made me want to take Virginia out to a smoky Jazz club and dance until the sun came up. Virginia actually started tapping her foot to rhythm and I began thinking I might not be able to beat Cordelia. I'm not used to that sensation.   "Okay, now, whoever is doing this has put Zane through enough and should remember that we should, as Christians, make students feel safe and not make them subjects of humiliation," Virginia addressed the student body. "I think we can end Assembly fifteen minutes early today for a little bit of Christian charity. We can do it at Zane's first class, 204 Denning Hall."   By the way, I apparently have a play list. As Virginia headed back, the fella's changed it up with 'Baby Got Back'. I wanted to die. Virginia Goodswell has a truly fine ass, of this there is no doubt, I often compare it to Barbie Lynn's, but please. Virginia stopped, turned toward me with a dazzling smile and waggled her finger at me, then resumed her way to her seat.   How is any of this my fault? I imagine I was lucky it wasn't the Thong Song. I would have died, then come back as the undead to take Cordelia to hell with me. It was with some relief that Vivian and Hope rallied to my side. They had to both keep other students away, the other girls loved poking me in different critters to make them call out in different pitches and tenors, which was pleasant to hear if you liked overdosing on helium.   Surprise, surprise; no one came to my succor before English class. I couldn't sit down. Okay, I tried, but any part of my body that bent or that I sat on screamed bloody murder until I got off of it or stopped putting on the press. I've heard about girlfriends like this but I've always assumed I would have the courage to jump out of a 50 story building to escape.   What do you do if they come with you when you jump besides basking in the vicarious thrill that comes from crushing half of them beneath you before you go? I managed to do okay standing in the rear of the class, only once giving in to the crushing fatigue of holding my arms somewhat elevated for two hours. The two under my arms were especially cooperative and didn't get too vocal when my arms did slip to my sides.   I couldn't do a thing about the occasional girl twisting in her seat but either Raven's glare or Goodswell's cough brought their eyes forward once more. At the end of class, Virginia decided to call Ms. Black and have her take me to the Vice Chancellor's office to end this matter. Vivian and Mercy provided support while Gabrielle kept her distance and cleared a path.   Rio helped out by playing my musical miscreants as if they were a drum set while some part of the 700 members of my new posse and I yelled at her to leave us alone. She really is my best friend. My tragically slow pace was not my friend and everyone had to depart for their classes before I finished the arduous travel to the Administration Building. Gabrielle's eyes measuring you for a casket is a remarkable motivator but didn't stop Rio from blowing a kiss to her "Mi Negro Naughtiness". I know, I know; one day, Rio is just going to vanish without a trace.   "Ms. Reveal, I need an emergency meeting with the Vice Chancellor," Ms. Black requested of Doctor Scarlett's personal assistant. Ms. Reveal didn't miss Gabrielle keeping her distance from me. She did make the call and I noticed the pictures of Ms. Mittens were still in evidence.   "Who are you inside that suit?" Ms. Reveal asked me.   I guess she assumed I wasn't a real baby Sasquatch; I was really a baby Sasquatch disguised as a half-baked marshmallow. If three geeks and a man working beneath his means jump out at me with proton-packs, I am running for my life, which is to say 'I'm going to die.'   "This is Zane. He is not being rude, he can't speak," Ms. Black was kind enough to cover for me.   "Oh, I understand," Ms. Reveal nodded, but in such a way that expressed she didn't understand anything. "You two can go in now," she said several awkward seconds later.   "Zane, you move as close to Ms. Reveal's desk as you can while I get the door for you," Gabrielle instructed me. "Come in when I call for you."   I'm sure Marisol Reveal was curious as to why Gabrielle was dancing around me, trying to keep her distance. We almost made it; right as she made it to the doorway, Doctor Scarlett opened the door and attempted to see what the delay was. She was actually putting an award on a shelf she had just received, the reason she missed Assembly, if you find that suspicious, and was placing it on a shelf near the door.   Gabrielle responded as any slightly unbalanced killer would do; she spun around, pulled out her gun from the unseen Realm of the Gods of War, and pointed it at the stunned Victoria. That took her one half-step too close to me and my little fellas let the world know it. I will give them this much; they were still defending my eardrums.   By the way Marisol was holding her ears as her tears flowed down her face it must have been pure agony for her since I was right next to her. Gabrielle scoped up Victoria and sprinted into her office and they obediently shut up.   "Za-, Zane, what was that?" Marisol blathered. Since the furry meatball gone bad was still on my lips and I hadn't become that hungry, I kept my silence.   "Zane!" Gabrielle called for me. I did my best to shrug but it wasn't like I had a neck anymore so I don't know what she made of my movement. I shuffled to the door and got a few good squeaks as I moved inside. I was more than a little disturbed by the reaction I received from Doctor Scarlett when she saw me from her seat behind her desk. She looked at me and I swear, hand to my heart, she had an orgasm.   "You are covered in Tribbles," she gasped. I had no fucking clue what a Tribble is but apparently, I was in the vast minority. I staggered forward and since Gabrielle was on the right side of the room, I angled to the left. I move halfway around Doctor Scarlett's desk so that Gabrielle could go close the door, where she took up post and, from what happened next engaged a Romulan Cloaking Device, whatever the Muggle-tech that is.   Victoria was in some sort of dream-like trance. When she started stumbling around the desk toward me, I waited for the musical assault that never came. To my credit, I caught on in a second. If these creatures existed, singing wasn't their normal activity, and Cordelia wanted these little 'Squeaky Meals' to be as real as possible, for Victoria. I was nothing but bait.   Victoria reached out to caress the same one Christina had placed over my heart. The little bugger cooed and Victoria clamped her thighs together to contain another orgasm that coursed through her loins. Cool, all I have to do to feel the wonders of Victoria Scarlett is dress myself in furry grapefruit. I'm kicking myself for not seeing this obvious ploy.   She touches more and each makes a subtly different purr of pleasure. This goes on and on until she's cuddled up against me, her arms stroking over my back and rubbing her left leg up and down mine.   "Vice Chancellor, you do realize Zane Braxton is TRAPPED inside those, contraptions," Gabrielle sounds the slightest bit peeved.   The troops all make those little high-pitched notes of longing as Victoria retreats a few steps, bringing Victoria almost to the point where she launches herself back into me to comfort her little friends. I am second fiddle to a discombobulated guinea pig; sometimes a man can feel pretty small.   "Okay. How did this happen to you, Zane?" Victoria asked.   "He cannot talk; one of those Tribbles is attached to his lips," Black stated, "by an unknown force. Before you ask; I am not an engineer or chemist." Victoria made this adorable little 'o' expression, then reached for an offending Tribble.   "It hurts him to remove them," Gabrielle got out just in time.   "Does it hurt the Tribble?" Victoria inquired. Gee, thanks, Vic.   "Hold your ears," Gabrielle commanded. Well, I couldn't comply, and Victoria had only started to scream 'stop' when Gabrielle materialized a knife and speared 'Diddley-boo' off my shoulder.   I heard the little guy's death wail, then his death rattle, as Gabrielle pulled him/her away until she was out of screaming range. Diddley-boo? No, I have no idea what his/her name really was but I'm going to have ICE check his immigration status when all of this is over, wait, I can't do that; Gabrielle wacked the little snot and giving her up to the Feds is a great way to create many widows and orphans. Diddley-boo was still twitching erratically while Victoria was stuck between ecstasy and horror.   "You are a Klingon agent!" Victoria gasped as she pointed an accusatory finger at Gabrielle. I am vaguely aware that they are the stock-villains of Star Trek Universe and this odd snapshot of rightly tight, athletic buns in tighter pants, but the reference memory for the scene escapes me. By the facial reaction Gabrielle gives, Victoria just called candy sweet, or jalapenos hot; she appreciates the comparison.   All the surviving members of the Tribble tribe wept a cacophony of pain and loss. I would have had more sympathy if their moans had not been vibrating my body like a jello mold.   "Romulan," Gabrielle countered; the other stock Trekkie villains, but they have better teeth. First amongst our Honored Dead, DB hardly quivers as Ms. Black dissects it.   It bleeds/oozes and appears to be a living organism of some kind, but Gabrielle points to several electronic devices, a CPU, and wires connecting all kinds of things inside the organic body.   "It is an organic husk over a sensory/auditory device," Gabrielle tried to explain.   "Oh, my God," Victoria's mind worked feverish to defy reality, "they've been turned into Borgs."   She tore the one attached to my lips off. I didn't cry like a televangelist publicly begging God for forgiveness for a moment, or 147 moments, of weakness with a rather sad-looking prostitute, but that was coming.   You see, Victoria gripped her weeping diminutive fuzzy engine of humiliation tightly when she yanked it off, so she let go of it because the little blighter sounded hurt.   It gave off a more muted and mournful 'wee' as it smacked into the corner of my mouth. I was able to dodge a direct hit.   "Scarlett," Gabrielle seethed, "if, you, would, listen, for, a, moment; they are painful to be removed from his flesh and they will attempt to reattach themselves to him if they are brought within one foot. I have no idea why."   "Zane, are you in much pain?" Doctor Scarlett inquired while scanning my body fungi.   "Yes, but I'm sure if you kick me in the nuts, I'll feel better," I mumbled through a joke.   "I can't do that," Victoria gasped. "You have Tribbles down there." Yes, I feel special.   "That's it," Gabrielle snapped. "I'm going to get help." She spun around and breezed out the door, slamming it in her wake.   "Thanks for abandoning me, Gabby," I shouted as loud as I was able. "It's not like Vic's totally lost her mind or anything like that."   "I have not lost my mind," Victoria responded with a deceptively calm, soothing tone. She reinforced my calm by locking the door, then locking in the deadbolt, yes, I felt much safer.   My merry band of orphan coconuts helped things along the cliffs of sanity by cooing and 'talking' to Victoria as she walked around the office, and she gaily responded to them.   "Ms. Reveal, this is going to be a difficult intervention. Inform me when lunch time gets here," Victoria communicated to her assistant, then added, "I need a box of outdoor trash bags; leave them at the door."   Having a hot lady like Victoria Scarlett lock the door and asking for almost 3 hours of 'alone' time with me is a mature pipe dream of mine, and that dream really meets a bloody end when she asks for roughly 30 bags with a fifty-gallon capacity each. If she pulls out a hacksaw or a 'cow-stunner,' I'm racing for the window behind the Doc's desk. I'll be gone in 90 seconds, sort of like an inexpensive microwave dinner.   Doctor Scarlett returned to her desk, turned her spy-cam around, and started making calls. I honestly maintained a miniscule hope that she might still help me. She was talking curtly to another doctor whose name I didn't recognize. What came out of her mouth next sounded like a combination of eating raw meat all your life and gargling with sand regularly; add to that an inflection of someone wanting to kick elementary kids into the paths of oncoming busses and you had the language she was using.   Victoria's stance even changed. She thrust out her chest, put her hands on her hips, and a predatory sneer took up permanent residency on her lips. She even beat on her desk hard during this little exchange before laughing in a way that made kittens piss on themselves before you hung them.   "Vice Chancellor, Doctor Victoria Scarlett, umm, what's going on?" I said careful.   I'm not so much terrified of Victoria at this point, as I am suspicious of my ability to fight at the moment.   "Everything is fine, Zane," Victoria assured me. "In essence, I am bringing in some experts in the field. You can trust me on this; we've been expecting contact like this for years." Huh?   "So, ah, that was an Albanian Biologist?" I hoped.   "No, that was Vor' Dura, Flight Leader of the Blood Quasar Fleet of the Klingon Empire," Victoria explained sedately, in the same way any SANE individual described a Navy Commander. She turned her computer screen so I could see the person's profile pic.   "How does she breathe in that thing?" I wondered. "That's one hell of a corset."   "That isn't a corset, Zane, its body armor. My suit was created by the same armorer," she stated.   "You have something like that?" I boggled.   "Yes, the precise same suit. Vor' Dura is not as blessed by her bloodlines, she's shorter, but otherwise, we are identical; our alliance ended recently and soon she must face me in ritual combat; yield or die." 'Yield or die' isn't what is centermost in my mind.   "Don't your boobs ever pop out of that thing?" Because if you have been paying any attention; I am an idiot where sex is even a remote possibility. Victoria can't meet my gaze but turns as red as her namesake.   "On a few occasions," she confessed. I'm thinking 'a few'. "Now I have a few more calls to make."   Yes, she's lost her ever-loving mind, and I have no reasonable expectation of exit or rescue. I won't be able to get up enough speed to bust out of the window so being on the first floor is meaningless. She has the deadbolt key and when I stack up my Tribbles against her Science Fiction fanaticism, I lose. She turns the monitor around and makes her next call. This one starts with the victory salute, but the one done with two fingers to each side.   "Excellent news," Vicky declares. "We have confirmation of the temporal events from Deep Space Nine. I have compelling data that I have encountered genetic derivatives of the dominant herbivorous life forms of Iota Geminorum IV." And everything went to turkey-based insanity after that. Again, they spoke rapidly in a language I knew nothing about. They acted like giddy little schoolgirls, just schoolgirls with their emotions surgically removed.   The final call went much same way except that this time, the tone of the language was like the second but with the taint of a sleazy pimp or grifter thinking she was a mob boss. These were the kinds of girls you never let babysit your kids if you ever wanted to see them again. The way Vic looked at me and the fellas made me worry about how long I could last in her brothel and inspired an unexpected sympathy for these pests.   "Zane, do you promise to stay here while I, umm, get some, umm outfits?" Victoria requests respectfully. She realizes she's asking me a bizarre favor. Balthazar's Balls, I've been tied to a cross; how much worse can this be? She scoots up to me, kisses me chastely on the lips and waits.   "It is a given that my morning class schedule is toast, and I'm no stranger to the entertainment industry so knock yourself out," I allow, but I will have to pee at some time."   "Check; I'll stop by the infirmary and get a catheter," she nods, then she kisses me lightly on the lips once more. "Thank you for this, Zane."   She's off like a shot but is careful enough to get the deadbolt on the way out. Since I doubt Ms. Reveal can get a fire-axe through the door if the building catches fire, my buddies and I really are going to experience total protonic reversal on a life-ending scale. Only now does it occur to me that these fuzzy navels might have toxic side effects.   I'm waiting around for God-knows how long when I hear some muffled noises, more muffled than having a Tribble in my ear.   Scratch, scratch, "Girl, you get away from that door," Ms. Reveal shouted (I guess).   "Quick, Mercy, hold her back," Rio shouted in response. "This deadbolt is a bitch."   A scuffle ensued and I tried to shout loud enough to call Rio off when I heard two rapid-fire thumps.   "Thank you, Ms. Black," Marisol Reveal huffed. Mercy had put up quite a fight, I guessed. "I will formally press charges when the Vice Chancellor returns."   "You will go and sit your ass behind your desk, you incompetent buffoon," Black snapped. "I will deal with this and if you bother me again today, or mention this incident to Scarlett, I swear you will never see your cat again; and if you don't hop-to in the next six seconds, I'll make an audio recording of me strangling that shit-dumper and play it by your bedroom window every night until you go mad. Do I make myself clear?"   "Ugh," is all I make out, but I hear Marisol's chair squeak soon after. The sound of a body, or bodies, being drug off faded away as Black left the office and headed down the hall. Hell, I warned Marisol. I can't do anything for Rio right now and I don't have too long to ruminate.   "Marisol, are you okay?" I hear Victoria ask her assistant. It is a testament to their bond that even the hysterical Doctor doesn't miss her friend's distress.   "Sorry, Victoria, I'm a bit, umm, heart-sick is all," Marisol murmurs. "Don't you worry about it."   "Well, when you want to talk about it, let me know," Victoria stated. Marisol must have nodded because no words were spoken and Victoria came in with two carry-on bags and three dress bags while kicking the trash bag box ahead of her. Happy fun time was about to begin.   "Sorry for the wait, Zane," Victoria told me.   "Doctor," I made a desperate Hail Mary plea for reason, "you are a highly respected educator. We really need to take a step back and re-examine what's going on here."   "Zane, this is my first teaching job ever," she related as she checked on the progress of her 'Trekkie' Posse.   "My doctorate is in Philosophy; my Master's Degrees are in Comparative Religions and Women's Studies," she informed me. "All my graduate work was done as a researcher. I've never had a student." I blink dumbly at her; and here I thought my opinion of the Board of Directors couldn't get worse.   Victoria goes over the language dance with her friends, switching fluidly from tongue to tongue in a manner that impresses and even fascinates me; and I've been to Bangkok where if you are trying to buy and/or sell anything and don't speak at least ten different languages or dialects, you might as well hand them your wallet or purse and go home. "Who do we need?" Vic said in English (just making sure everyone knows that the Tribbles aren't suddenly translating for me).   "Kar'Thon," Vor' Dura states eagerly; "This matter is a racial imperative."   "Are you sure the young man is old enough?" The second woman inquired. "Jarrod went all obsessive last time a boy crossed our path. We almost sent the kid to college."   "That's what you get for marrying a Ferengi," Dura snidely remarked, and the rest laughed along with it; meanwhile, I'm going 'a what?'   Some infighting goes on until Victoria and 'I married a Ferengi' call for peace, then babble a little more. Then the name 'Zane Braxton' comes up and I'm not sure I'm happy or sad that only one of them replies in what was clearly elation and surprise, the sleazy one knows of me.   "Zane, I need to surgically remove some of the alien organisms," Victoria tells me.   "It is going to sting like hell," I mutter, to which Vor' Dura says something and sleazy girl laughs. I do not like where this is going at all. On the bright side, Victoria doesn't rip one off of me right away; she goes over to one of the dress bags and opens it up.   She's pulling out bondage gear, oops, my bad; she's getting ready to put on Klingon body armor. I have lost all preconceptions of what I was dealing with once Scarlett began stripping in front of me. She even gave me an appreciative smile and I was the one who was doing the appreciating! The little fuckers started going off. Remember, they don't like being moved and I was moving some around at the moment.   No, my legs and arms were perfectly still but my crotch was striking up a chorus, its Handel's Messiah. There was this 'still' moment where Victoria stopped opening her blouse and the three strangers regarding me through the webcam became mute; then the laughter began. Victoria resumed her stripping but she couldn't stop smiling and snickering slightly.   The three, the Klingon uber-cook or whatever she was and her two unknown accomplices, were laughing so hard they could barely communicate. It got better; when I was fully aroused and stopped moving around my pants, they didn't shut up and I was suddenly, desperately searching my mind to know how long that song was.   This was because Vic got down to her, Oh, fuck, this white thong, and calling it white is generous as it looks like someone stole an under-achieving spider's web and gently placed it over her crotch, and I know my hard-on was not going anywhere but into something before it went away.   Victoria was working her make-up on when two of the voices got themselves together enough to ask something. Vic looked up at the web-cam, over to me, then said a few sentences.   "So, which one of you likes your ankles placed behind your ears?" I politely asked in Thai.   "What was that, Brax' Zane?" Victoria asked.   "I'm curious if I can take your virginity with my tongue?" I continued in Thai.   "I cannot understand you," Victoria said again. "What are, ah, "   "I think we should engage the Federation citizen in the Galactic Basic," the second voice requested of the room. The third voice, the sleaze, said one more then in her native tongue, then the second voice, and Victoria jumped on her.   "I said, 'I think the native is getting restless'," sleazy girl grudgingly repeated. "Now, I think we should see if our plan 1.0 can be implemented."   "Before the scourges make themselves hoarse shrilling out the hellish noise or I lose patience, transport over there, and kill them myself," Dura growled playfully. I'm glad someone else was having fun. Victoria walked up and took a deep breath, which caused her well-disciplined, thirty-ish breasts to bounce tantalizingly close. Her look was desperately fearful yet almost childlike too.   "Kar'Thon, I desperately require your assistance before these creatures drive me mad," I tried to sound masculine yet pleading. On the computer screen, Dura quickly slammed her right fist to her right shoulder; I was later to learn that was a salute.   "This is no way for a Starfleet cadet to die," Victoria beamed at me, "even if I know I must someday slaughter you in battle." Whoa, I've never considered NASA as a career choice.   Maybe Klingon bondage gear/standard uniform could change my mind. The first person to tell me university life is boring I will punt to the Moon.   "I am T'Luminareth of the Vulcan Science Academy and Reserve member of the Starfleet Exploration Corps here," the second voice spoke up. I caught sight of a picture of her with this, troll? Or maybe a dwarf with the worst case of cauliflower ear ever. "I would like to assure you that every logical effort is being put forth on your behalf."   "Is that right, Tight Luminescence? Is it going to kill you to show a fellow sentient an ounce of compassion when you know he is about to suffer a fatal toxic shock from prolonged exposure to these vermin?" the third girl snarkily interjected into the conversation. "I'm Hical Cretak, Romulan freebooter and purveyor of ancient, exotic, and misunderstood goods."   "You are a thief, and since you aren't in some asteroid prison, you must be an above average one," I said to the Romulan. "I confess that I am a bit happier to see a member of the Vulcan Science Academy since, well, I'm suffering a splintered memory. Some things make perfect sense but large details are simply missing." I figured I could provide Victoria some good game.   She began rubbing my crotch and there was an effect alright, two in fact. The simple and expectant one was my trouser titan trying to unchain itself so it could get revenge on all of Victoria's orifices for taunting him so. My torturous tiny titmice began belting 'Let's get it on' by Marvin Gaye. I think as an infant, I had a mobile playing this song in my crib.   I started to really admire T'Luminareth's acting ability because she alone kept it together. Victoria made larger and larger circles over my crotch up to my beltline while Dura and Hical lost it hysterically.   "Pssst," I murmured to Victoria. She looked at me and I darted my eyes toward her makeup kit and clothes. I am getting more clothes on her, why?   Besides, I'd gotten a better look at her suit and it didn't have a butt-zipper that said 'Come Get Some,' but those pants rolled down like a candy wrapper and that 'body armor' has a back flap. I'd have to get Rio a set and I doubted Victoria would deny me her armorer's number. I was definitely looking into getting Mercy a matching Orion Slave Girl outfit, and here people don't think I make constructive use of my time.   I was sure Victoria/Kar'Thon was breaking speed records to get herself ready while the other ladies began talking to me about a whole universe that was brand new to me. Getting three different and very conflicting versions of the rise of the Human-dominated Federation of Planets was amusing.   Out of the blue, T'Luminareth decided she was going to create a team to rapidly move to my planet and take me back for further study. Vor' Dora countered that and Hical gleefully sought out salvage rights for the wreckage of the two expeditions.   "That might not be possible," I intervened. "Some of what you've told me has fused some memories together." They all fell silent.   "At Starfleet Academy, an Engineering Team and a select group of cadets," I continued to fantasize, "were directed to work on a, phased ionic drive." Ion drive was 'old' tech, or so Hical had let slip. "The drive failed catastrophically and we couldn't save the impulse drive, power was failing, we couldn't transport. The phased ionic drive detonated in the planet's atmosphere, creating a trans-harmonic disruption. I don't know if there were other survivors of our vessel. I saw another vessel either investigating our explosion or attempting a rescue but they burned up on their approach," I looked pained. "I don't think I could communicate with them and the only survivor I could locate was Kar'Thon."   "Only a combination of our two vessels' technology has been able to punch a hole through the disruption and I'm not sure how long this effect will last." I now sounded grim but determined. "We probably need three things: We need to know if there were any special modifications to the Klingon Scout vessel because I don't think it was a standard model to get so close to an experimental Federation vessel."   "Secondly, someone needs to pry out of Starfleet the precise specifications of that vessel, and that's definitely not me," I confessed. "Finally, we need to find a way to fuse those two designs together because if Tribbles are already being affected by an increased magnetic field, how much longer do we have before even the planet's magnetic field collapses totally and we fry (a SciFi movie plot, thank you)."   Once more, there was silence and I was afraid I'd stepped way beyond my bounds. Only when I took in the masked facial expressions of Kar'Thon did I realize I'd done well. I was hit with the realization I was a word and a whisper away from having sex with her, she was so pleased with me.   "I have friends at Starfleet Academy and they might be able to shed a light on what their cadets were up to," T'Luminareth stated serenely, but I could see a fire in her eyes. "I will research into every work published on Phased Ionic Drives, and we may be forced to work on a theory of what went wrong in case Starfleet is not forthcoming."   "Not that I admit that the Klingon Empire ever had any such vessel operating in the area, Vor' Dura got out before Hical Cretak interrupted.   "You have an officer on the damn planet, you cowardly idiot," mocked Hical.   "I am a deserter," Kar'Thon declared. "I would say I was a 'scum of the Orion Colonies' but I found that you already claimed that title," she aimed at Hical.   "You must die, you traitorous dog," Dura jumped on the offered plum. Thon/Victoria wasn't a deserter but she was ready to take one for the team, so to speak. "The Klingon Empire cannot allow your stain on our honor to exist. Now that we finally have you pinned down, we are coming to end you once and for all, and if the Federation insists on harboring a traitor (we were theoretically in Federation space) then,   "I owe you a death, Vor' Dura," Thon seethed; "your death."   "You may not enter Federation space," T'Luminareth insisted.   "Before you two go to war, again, why don't you let me go in," Hical mediated. "I'm a free trader and have been to both Federation and Klingon planets."   "You are a spy," Vor' Dura growled.   "Being a successful agent doesn't make you any less of spy for your Romulan Senate," T'Luminareth seemed almost furious.   "Unfounded rumors started by my, Hical almost finished before the Tribbles screamed. Not as loud as they had for Ms. Black, but they now didn't like Thon around either, now that Victoria was a Klingon. Cordelia scares me; this time Hical had the little 'hiccup'.   "This is going to be fun," she chuckled, barely above a whisper.   "I will get these vermin no matter how much they hurt the frail human," Kar'Thon snarled, but Victoria's eyes blazed with fanatic amusement. I was mildly curious if she could even respond to her true name but decided not to test that. She pulled out a rather wicked looking knife that I had to double-take to make sure it was plastic.   The conversation went on around us as fictitious bits of data collided with innuendo, falsehoods, threats, and lies. This was roleplaying by some actors who took it as

We dive into the Predator universe through Prey and find a lean, authentic thriller that restores menace to the monster while spotlighting a compelling Comanche lead. We weigh practical effects against wobbly CGI, praise the setting and representation, and debate pacing, violence, and franchise future.• Casting a primarily Native team and Comanche language option• Amber Midthunder's grounded lead performance and character build• Practical suit work and period-appropriate Predator design• Weak CG animals versus strong creature effects• The trappers set piece and creative kill design• Pacing risks in the first hour and payoff balance• Franchise context and hopes for Badlands and crossoversLetterbox'd Synopsis: When danger threatens her camp, the fierce and highly skilled Comanche warrior Naru sets out to protect her people. But the prey she stalks turns out to be a highly evolved alien predator with a technically advanced arsenal.

Con Nuria Torreblanca, Miqui Otero y Santi Segurola recordamos el auge y caida de la MTV; la cadena musical que cambio el consumo de musica y su comercializacion en los anos 80 y 90. Recordamos canciones que tienen una segunda vida, y la historia de un jugador que baila y un jugador que vuela. Uno del Madrid y otro del Barca.

Ce jeudi, ce sera une spéciale coaching et préparation mentale avec notre invité Fabien Quillévéré, ancien sportif de haut niveau. Infirmier devenu coach/ manager de la performance et intervenant. Infirmier, Sophrologue, préparateur mental via la fac, il est en deuxième année d'école de coaching (paradox school qui est géré par David Laroche). Il a travaillé 6 ans dans l'esport, du bas de l'échelle (bénévole) au plus grand club français présent sur la majorité des compétitions esport au niveau européen (KarmineCorp) où il participe à la création d'un pôle de performance avec 5 autres expert dans le domaine. Sa spécialité étant la gestion du stress, les états modifiés de conscience et la santé. Côté poker, il est manager de la performance chez RTS Poker depuis fin 2024. Moments clés 00:00:45 Présentation du parcours personnel et professionnel de Fabien 00:02:58 Expérience sportive de haut niveau en aviron de mer 00:08:02 Parcours académique et difficultés rencontrées (médecine, formation infirmière) 00:28:13 Période de crise personnelle et voyage au Cambodge  00:30:37 Transition vers la préparation mentale et l'e-sport  00:54:06 Évolution dans l'e-sport professionnel jusqu'à Carmine Corp  01:27:16Passage au poker et collaboration avec RTS  01:32:01 Techniques de préparation mentale appliquées au poker  01:16:15 Importance du sommeil, de la nutrition et de l'hygiène de vie  01:51:05 Méditation et développement de la conscience  02:16:30 Recommandations de lectures Présentation : Comanche et ShiShi Streaming : Clara Réalisation et montage : Héloïse Club Poker Radio vous est présentée par Winamax, le n°1 du poker en ligne.   Perte d'argent, conflits familiaux, addiction… Les jeux d'argent sont interdits aux moins de 18 ans et peuvent être dangereux. En cas de besoin, contactez le 09 74 75 13 13.

Send us a textRetired Navy Chief Petty Officer Jerry Bain joins Big Rich to talk adventure, public access, and preserving West Virginia's unmaintained road network. Jerry shares how high school mud trucks led to a lifelong passion for motorized recreation, a 20-year Navy career seeing 51 countries, and ultimately founding the Country Roads Coalition to protect and promote legal access to historic state roads.Highlights: - Discovering off-road early; the draw of adventure and going where few can - Building capable rigs: XJs, a Comanche on 37s, and the iconic “Boogie Van” Econoline - West Virginia's unique resource: legal unmaintained state roads rich with history and scenery - Country Roads Coalition's mission: stewardship, access, and education—not just “overlanding,” but motorized adventure tourism Get Involved: - Find Country Roads Coalition on Facebook and Instagram - Bring a group to West Virginia—Jerry loves to guide and share the state's history and hidden gems.Support the show

Con Nuria Torreblanca, Miqui Otero y Santi Segurola recordamos el auge y caida de la MTV; la cadena musical que cambio el consumo de musica y su comercializacion en los anos 80 y 90. Recordamos canciones que tienen una segunda vida, y la historia de un jugador que baila y un jugador que vuela. Uno del Madrid y otro del Barca.

Nous avons le plaisir d'accueillir ce jeudi au studio Thomas Eychenne, vainqueur de l'EPT Barcelone 2025 pour quelques 1.2 million d'euros. Après son deeprun (47e) sur le Main Event WSOP 2025 et une belle 5e place au HU Championship à 25k, il confirme une forme exceptionnelle.  Présentation : Comanche et ShiShi Streaming : Clara Réalisation et montage : Héloïse Club Poker Radio vous est présentée par Winamax, le n°1 du poker en ligne.   Perte d'argent, conflits familiaux, addiction… Les jeux d'argent sont interdits aux moins de 18 ans et peuvent être dangereux. En cas de besoin, contactez le 09 74 75 13 13.

On this episode of THE HOT MIC, John Rocha and Jeff Sneider discuss MCU writer Michael Waldron hinting that Glen Powell could play NOVA in the MCU, Michael Mann's "AI" comments over HEAT 2 and his Comanche update, Michael Fassbender cast as Joseph Kennedy for a Netflix Kennedy series, Colman Domingo cast as The Cowardly Lion in Wicked for Good, The Perfect Neighbor review, Box office talk with Black Phone 2 leading the way, Rachel  Zegler eyed to play Gloria Estefan, Good Fortune, The Perfect Neighbor, Mastermind, Black Phone 2 and TASK finale reviews and more!#marvel #DC #movies #HBO #WB #netflix #TheHotMic #JeffSneider #JohnRocha ____________________________________________________________________________________Chapters:Follow John Rocha: @therochasays Follow Jeff Sneider: @TheInSneider Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-hot-mic-with-jeff-sneider-and-john-rocha--5632767/support.

Desde Pamplona, Miqui Otero rinde homenaje a la novela de Ernest Hemingway 'Fiesta' a punto de cumplir su centenario. Alberto Rey analiza la moda entre los famosos de hacerse autodocumentales y Nuria Torreblanca ilustra con musica y cine los malentendidos.

Pour le lancement du Winamax Poker Tour 2025/2026 à Toulouse, nous avons le plaisir de recevoir au micro : Marwen Zaibat aka Usky : rappeur et chanteur français,  et joueur de poker en développement. Matthieu Duran : boss de fin des Winamax Live Events et directeur du Winamax Poker Tour.   Présentation : Comanche et ShiShi Réalisation et montage : David Club Poker Radio vous est présentée par Winamax, le n°1 du poker en ligne.   Perte d'argent, conflits familiaux, addiction… Les jeux d'argent sont interdits aux moins de 18 ans et peuvent être dangereux. En cas de besoin, contactez le 09 74 75 13 13.

Ils ont tous les deux bossé ensemble pendant plusieurs années dans l'industrie du poker en ligne, nous avons le plaisir de recevoir au micro ce jeudi, deux experts des jeux d'argent : Stéphane Auffret : directeur de l'offre produits/services et de l'innovation pour le PMU, il a développé et managé l'ouverture de l'offre Poker chez PMU dès la régulation du marché en 2010 avant de diriger également le Turf dès 2014. Entre 2019 et 2024, il a une parenthèse chez le Groupe Barrière où il développe le casino en ligne en Suisse. Le retour chez PMU se fera au printemps 2024 en tant que directeur de l'offre produits/services et de l'innovation. Vincent Reynaert : il a débuté sa carrière en 2010 chez EverestPoker, quelques semaines avant l'ouverture du marché, puis il a rapidement rejoint Stéphane Auffret chez PMU Poker pour notamment développer le France Poker Open avec Apo. En 2020, Vincent retrouve Stéphane chez le Groupe Barrière pour relancer des projets online mais pas toujours fructueux, il retrouve alors Apo chez TexaPoker pour 7 mois avant de prendre une autre direction qui a aboutit à la création du média Les-Enjeux.com, premier média francophone dédié à l'ensemble du monde des jeux d'argent.  Présentation : Comanche et ShiShi Streaming : Clara Réalisation et montage : David Club Poker Radio vous est présentée par Winamax, le n°1 du poker en ligne.   Perte d'argent, conflits familiaux, addiction… Les jeux d'argent sont interdits aux moins de 18 ans et peuvent être dangereux. En cas de besoin, contactez le 09 74 75 13 13.

On June 27th, 1874, a handful of buffalo hunters found themselves surrounded by hundreds of Comanche at a place called Adobe Walls. Outnumbered more than twenty to one, the odds of survival looked slim. Nevertheless, it was here that Billy Dixon stepped forward and made what's become known as the “shot of the century,” dropping a mounted warrior at nearly 1,500 yards. Join me as we examine the life of Billy Dixon, from his hardscrabble childhood to his time as a buffalo hunter, scout, and Medal of Honor recipient. Also discussed are how Dixon and his companions survived the siege at Adobe Walls, what really happened in the infamous buffalo wallow fight, and how these events helped shape the final days of the Southern Plains tribes.   Merch! https://wildwestextramerch.com/   Buy Me A Coffee!  https://buymeacoffee.com/wildwest   Check out the website! https://www.wildwestextra.com/   Email me! https://www.wildwestextra.com/contact/   Free Newsletter! https://wildwestjosh.substack.com/   Join Patreon for ad-free bonus content! https://www.patreon.com/wildwestextra Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Send us a textA single vow set against a hostile sky can bend the shape of history. When Charles Goodnight lashed his partner's tin-lined casket to a wagon and steered across the Pecos, he wasn't chasing myth—he was keeping a promise. That journey threads through everything that defined the West: the hard schooling of frontier life, the ruthless math of cattle markets, the invention that held trail crews together, and the uneasy line between conquest and survival.We trace Goodnight from a boyhood spent learning the land's language to his years as a Texas Ranger, where a bloody raid at Pease River foreshadowed decades of conflict and reconciliation. The partnership with Oliver Loving fuses savvy markets with grit, carving a path to Fort Sumner and birthing the chuck wagon—a simple, brilliant machine that turned chaos into a moving camp. Profit follows, but so do consequences: the Goodnight–Loving Trail becomes a corridor of expansion that feeds armies, stocks northern ranges, and reshapes Native homelands. When Loving falls to an ambush and whispers a final request, duty becomes destiny, and the long ride home becomes legend.Alongside the public feats stands Molly Goodnight—teacher, ranch leader, and the quiet force who heard orphaned bison calves cry and insisted on mercy. Her plea leads to a pure Southern Plains herd that survives to this day. And in a turn few could have predicted, Goodnight and Quanah Parker turn from enemies into friends, striking a pragmatic peace and later returning Cynthia Ann Parker to Comanche ground. The result is a portrait of a man and a moment: inventive and ruthless, loyal and changeable, capable of harm and repair. Ride with us through heat, storm, and open country, and decide for yourself what it means to keep faith—with the dead, with the land, and with those once called enemies. If the story moves you, follow, share, and leave a review to help others find the trail.Support the showIf you'd like to buy one or more of our fully illustrated dime novel publications, you can click the link I've included.

Comanche Chairman Forrest Tahdooahnippah joins in to talk about Comanche history, culture, and so much more. We had a chance to talk about the legal relationships between Tribal nations and the United States, the importance of language preservation, what it's like to lead a Tribe, thoughts on how Comanche people have been portrayed on film, and how historians and others can conduct ethical scholarship in Indian Country. This was a really wonderful conversation and I'm so thankful to the Chairman for the time to talk with us.About our guest:Forrest Tahdooahnippah is Chairman of the Comanche Nation. He earned a Bachelor's Degree in Public Policy from Stanford University and his Juris Doctorate from the University of Minnesota Law School. Prior to his service as Chairman, he was legal counsel at Dorsey & Whitney, LLP and was an assistant professor of law at Mitchell Hamline School of Law.

Con Nuria Torreblanca, Miqui Otero y Joana Bonet, hablamos en el territorio Comanche de la musica ambiente, si nos acompana o nos molesta, el 60 aniversario de la llegada de los Betales a Espana y las primeras veces de otros grupos y el boom de la cirugia estetica y los tratamientos de belleza en los hombres.

Send us a textA whispered promise in a dark adobe room turns into one of the West's most unforgettable journeys. We open on Fort Sumner in 1867, where Oliver Loving lies dying from gangrene and Charles Goodnight—trail boss, Ranger, problem‑solver—makes a vow to carry his partner home to Texas soil. From that moment, the story stretches backward into a life built on risk and forward into a 700‑mile funeral procession that defines what honor meant on the high plains.We trace Loving's rise from Kentucky farmer to the “Dean of Texas Trail Drivers,” his market savvy shaped by years freighting goods and reading the needs of frontier forts. The Civil War wipes out his fortune, pushing him into a bold partnership with Goodnight, a younger scout whose field sense matches Loving's business mind. Together they sidestep hostile Missouri routes and blaze west to Fort Sumner, feeding Army contracts and inventing the chuck wagon to tame chaos on the trail. The price is brutal: a ninety‑six‑mile dry drive across the Llano Estacado, stampedes into the Pecos, and constant tension as Comanche riders guard a homeland the cattle herds now scar.When spring floods slow their third drive, impatience meets pride. Loving rides ahead with a single scout and is ambushed on the Pecos. What follows is survival by inches—Wilson's barefoot escape through cactus, Comancheros hauling Loving to the fort—and then the quiet horror of frontier medicine that cannot amputate in time. Goodnight arrives to find his friend alive but fading, hears the fear of a foreign grave, and answers it with action: finish the contracts, secure the family's future, return in winter, and carry Loving home in a tin casket packed with charcoal. The slow cavalcade across 700 miles becomes a moving testament to the cowboy code: a word kept when it costs everything.This episode blends hard history with human stakes: the economics of the postwar cattle boom, the invention that changed trail life, the conflicts in Comancheria, and the origins of a legend that inspired Lonesome Dove. Ride with us through dust, duty, and the choices that make a name last. If this story moved you, follow the show, share it with a friend, and leave a quick review—what promise would you cross a desert to keep?Support the showIf you'd like to buy one or more of our fully illustrated dime novel publications, you can click the link I've included.

Ce mardi, nous avons le plaisir de recevoir au studio Flavien Guenan, joueur pro spécialiste des MTTs, détenteur de multiples titres Winamax Series, juriste, coach Kill Tilt,commentateur sur la plupart des Live events de Winamax. Présentation : Comanche et ShiShi Streaming : Marin Réalisation et montage : Fanny Club Poker Radio vous est présentée par Winamax, le n°1 du poker en ligne.   Perte d'argent, conflits familiaux, addiction… Les jeux d'argent sont interdits aux moins de 18 ans et peuvent être dangereux. En cas de besoin, contactez le 09 74 75 13 13.

Podcast guest 1549 is Linda G. From the Linda G. Comanche psychic Youtube channel. She is UFO experiencer who at birth, was taken to her mother's Comanche tribe, where elders recognized that she possessed the “third eye.” Today, Linda is a recognized psychic medium, known for her ability to connect with Spirit and deliver messages from the other side. Linda's YouTube Channelhttps://www.youtube.com/@LindaGtheComanchePsychicLinda's Websitehttps://www.lindagrindel.com/CONTACT:Email: jeff@jeffmarapodcast.comTo donate crypto:Bitcoin - bc1qk30j4n8xuusfcchyut5nef4wj3c263j4nw5wydDigibyte - DMsrBPRJqMaVG8CdKWZtSnqRzCU7t92khEShiba - 0x0ffE1bdA5B6E3e6e5DA6490eaafB7a6E97DF7dEeDoge - D8ZgwmXgCBs9MX9DAxshzNDXPzkUmxEfAVEth. - 0x0ffE1bdA5B6E3e6e5DA6490eaafB7a6E97DF7dEeXRP - rM6dp31r9HuCBDtjR4xB79U5KgnavCuwenWEBSITEwww.jeffmarapodcast.comNewsletter (Substack)https://jeffmara2002.substack.com/?r=19wpqa&utm_campaign=pub-share-checklistSOCIALS:Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jeffmarapodcast/Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jeffmarapodcast/Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/jeffmaraP/The opinions of the guests may or may not reflect the opinions of the host.

What a journey it has been on our way to 100 episodes of the Keep Going Podcast! Thank you all so much for the support. Tyler Davis is a Comanche, Caddo, husband, and my father who has always been well respected and I'm blessed to have him in my life. This episode is near and dear to my heart. I am able to have a deep conversation with my father about growing up, what it was like becoming a dad, hardships, how to deal with loss, but most importantly LOVE!I share a very personal recording of my Grandfather, play the Native American flute, burn sage, and getting to learn more of my dad's thoughts and stories was POWERFUL.Hope you all enjoy... KEEPGOING!Follow me:IG- https://www.instagram.com/zdsellsokc/FB- https://www.facebook.com/ZDsellsOKC/Website: https://keepgoingpodcast.carrd.co/  Click here to be a guest on Keep Going Podcast: https://form.jotform.com/252251121299149

El Territorio Comanche con Miqui Otero, Nuria Torreblanca y Santi Segurola rinde homenaje desde Alcazar de San Juan al humor manchego, a la musica de trenes y felicita el cumpleanos de Julie Andrews.

TPCCafe Radio Presents Classic Westerns, Have Gun Will Travel: Comanche

Ce jeudi, nous avons le plaisir de recevoir au studio : Alexandre Lutti Delattre : Animateur, commentateur et improvisateur, streameur pro (Lycans, RocketLeague, ...) et passionné de poker ! Fredydruger : il débute par les spins en 0,25€ en 2016, puis passe par différentes poker schools puis monte les limites jusqu'à jouer les plus hautes pendant plusieurs années. Sa carrière a explosé avec l'arrivée des nitros puis flash sur pokerstars et il est surtout connu pour être l'un des spécialistes de ce format. Il fait une apparition au PSPC Bahamas en 2023. Il se consacre désormais à d'autres projets comme les évènements live de PS ou encore du coaching. Présentation : Comanche et ShiShi Streaming : Marin Réalisation et montage : Gabriel Club Poker Radio vous est présentée par Winamax, le n°1 du poker en ligne.   Perte d'argent, conflits familiaux, addiction… Les jeux d'argent sont interdits aux moins de 18 ans et peuvent être dangereux. En cas de besoin, contactez le 09 74 75 13 13.

Aunque damos por hecho que dormimos cada día, como decía Martin Gaite, lo raro es dormir, así que Miqui Otero hará un recorrido por la cama y el sueño a propósito del último libro de Isaac Rosa “Las buenas noches”. Alberto Rey nos habla de lo que Hollywood nos ha enseñado sobre el poder femenino y Nuria Torreblanca nos muestra a qué suena Sevilla, con un recorrido por los mejores músicos sevillanos.

Quel plaisir ce jeudi de recevoir au studio 2 joueurs professionnels : Alexandre Réard : joueur professionnel sponsorisé par Unibet, champion du monde, il vient d'empocher un event sur l'EPT de Barcelone (un 10k€ affichant 82 entrées pour plus de 200k€ ) et nous a ébloui cet été avec une 2e place dans le WSOP 50 000 $ High Roller... pour 1.7 million de $. De quoi approcher la barre des 10 millions d'euros de gain et consolider la 5e position au top fr. On se demande comment il maintient ce niveau hallucinant

En Territorio comanche, cerramos el fin de semana de de Julia en la Onda con la mejor banda sonora con Santiago Segurola, Miqui Otero y Nuria Torreblanca.

Leer en el baño ha dado pie a un género literario, nos lo cuenta en el Comanche, Miqui Otero. Con Nuria Torreblanca recordamos el 20 aniversario del Katrina y sus influencias en la música y en el cine de catástrofes y con Alberto Rey recordaremos al eterno Robert Redford. 

En marge du Winamax Poker Open 2025 se jouant à Aix-les-Bains, nous avons eu le plaisir d'interviewer : Igor Gotesman sur son parcours artistique, ses débuts dans la comédie, sa carrière de réalisateur et sa passion pour le poker. Léo Margets : joueuse pro du team Winamax, finaliste du Main Event WSOP 2025 qui explique sa préparation mentale exceptionnelle avant cette série et sa collaboration avec Stéphane Matheu. Staff CP Radio Présentation : Comanche et ShiShi Réalisation et montage : David Club Poker Radio vous est présentée par Winamax, le n°1 du poker en ligne.   Perte d'argent, conflits familiaux, addiction… Les jeux d'argent sont interdits aux moins de 18 ans et peuvent être dangereux. En cas de besoin, contactez le 09 74 75 13 13.

En marge du Winamax Poker Open 2025 se jouant à Aix-les-Bains, nous avons eu le plaisir d'interviewer Constantin Balzan pour découvrir son parcours d'acteur, de ses débuts au théâtre jusqu'à sa participation à des productions internationales comme Dunkerque de Christopher Nolan, en passant par son rôle récurrent dans la série quotidienne Un si grand soleil. Staff CP Radio Présentation : Comanche et ShiShi Réalisation et montage : David Club Poker Radio vous est présentée par Winamax, le n°1 du poker en ligne.   Perte d'argent, conflits familiaux, addiction… Les jeux d'argent sont interdits aux moins de 18 ans et peuvent être dangereux. En cas de besoin, contactez le 09 74 75 13 13.

Bigfoot Wallace is one of those figures who looms so large in Texas history that it can be tough to separate the facts from the tall tales. Born in Virginia and hardened by tragedy, Wallace headed to Texas with vengeance on his mind. What followed was a life filled with brutal frontier battles, narrow escapes, and enough wild stories to fill volumes. As a Texas Ranger, Wallace faced down Comanche warriors, Mexican soldiers, and all the hazards the wild country could throw at him. He was captured, imprisoned, and forced to gamble his own life in a deadly lottery. Somehow, he always managed to survive, becoming both a folk hero and a figure of controversy along the way. But who was the real Bigfoot Wallace? Was he truly the courageous defender that Texans have celebrated for generations, or was there something darker beneath the surface? How much of his legend is built on truth, and how much is the result of years spent spinning yarns on a front porch? Buy me a coffee!  https://buymeacoffee.com/wildwest Check out the website! https://www.wildwestextra.com/ Email me! https://www.wildwestextra.com/contact/ Free Newsletter! https://wildwestjosh.substack.com/ Join Patreon for ad-free bonus content! https://www.patreon.com/wildwestextra Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Núria Torreblanca, Miqui Otero y Santi Segurola han repasado algunos de los temas culturales más destacados de la última semana. Miqui Otero nos ha descubierto un nuevo grupo de música que está triunfando entre los más jóvenes y que esconde un secreto. Núria Torreblanca ha aprovechado el regreso de Oasis a los escenarios para hablar de la estética del grupo británico y de otras bandas icónicas del siglo XX y XXI. Y Santi Segurola ha reflexionado sobre las recomendaciones de libros, cine y series. ¿Qué pasa cuando no nos gusta un producto cultural que nos recomendaron?

Núria Torreblanca, Miqui Otero y Santi Segurola han repasado algunos de los temas culturales más destacados de la última semana. Miqui Otero nos ha descubierto un nuevo grupo de música que está triunfando entre los más jóvenes y que esconde un secreto. Núria Torreblanca ha aprovechado el regreso de Oasis a los escenarios para hablar de la estética del grupo británico y de otras bandas icónicas del siglo XX y XXI. Y Santi Segurola ha reflexionado sobre las recomendaciones de libros, cine y series. ¿Qué pasa cuando no nos gusta un producto cultural que nos recomendaron?

Ce mardi, nous avons le plaisir de recevoir au studio Andy le créateur de la chaîne AndyPoker. L'histoire d'un gars qui n'a rien lâché pour devenir joueur pro. 8ffa966dbeb7c52f0b584fe98c3d4c5fStaff CP Radio Présentation : Comanche et ShiShi Streaming : Marin Réalisation et montage : Héloïse Club Poker Radio vous est présentée par Winamax, le n°1 du poker en ligne.   Perte d'argent, conflits familiaux, addiction… Les jeux d'argent sont interdits aux moins de 18 ans et peuvent être dangereux. En cas de besoin, contactez le 09 74 75 13 13.

It’s 1836 and 8 year old Cynthia Ann Parker is kidnapped by Comanche warriors in Texas. But as time goes by she has so totally assimilated into the tribal life, that she has no interest in returning home. Then after 24 years . . she’s kidnapped again!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

En el primer Territorio Comanche de la temporada, Joana Bonet ha dibujado un perfil radiofónico del diseñador italiano Giorgio Armani, que ha fallecido esta semana a los 91 años. Núria Torreblanca nos ha hablado de las colaboraciones que llevó a cabo Armani en el Cine. Miqui Otero ha celebrado los 50 años de la publicación del disco Born To Run de bruce Springsteen. Y Alberto Rey se ha fijado en la biografía no autorizada de Gwyneth Paltrow.

En el primer Territorio Comanche de la temporada, Joana Bonet ha dibujado un perfil radiofónico del diseñador italiano Giorgio Armani, que ha fallecido esta semana a los 91 años. Núria Torreblanca nos ha hablado de las colaboraciones que llevó a cabo Armani en el Cine. Miqui Otero ha celebrado los 50 años de la publicación del disco Born To Run de bruce Springsteen. Y Alberto Rey se ha fijado en la biografía no autorizada de Gwyneth Paltrow.

The glam squad is in overdrive as Pol' Atteu and Patrik Simpson welcome actress, model, and total powerhouse Danielle Vasinova into the Undressed hot seat! You know her from The Bay (where she snagged an Emmy), the Yellowstone universe (1923), and now the buzzy new series The Madison alongside Michelle Pfeiffer and Kurt Russell. But behind the Hollywood dazzle is a farm girl from Connecticut who once shoveled manure, milked cows, and slept in her horse's stall when she got mad at her parents. Talk about rags-to-red-carpet! From cheerleading drama (she made the squad, her best friend didn't) to being scouted by Elite in a mall, Danielle dishes how her small-town upbringing collided with the high-fashion world of New York. She opens up about moving to L.A. in her Honda Accord, crashing on a blow-up mattress in Van Nuys (with some colorful neighbors), and landing her first acting gig on The Young and the Restless as “Stone” — literally overnight. The convo goes wild with casino confessions (Pol' screaming like a jackpot winner over $5), favorite cocktails (Danielle's a “skinny spicy” girl, Patrik' a Espresso Martini queen), and whether marrying Danielle could get Pol' or Patrik that coveted Cherokee/Sioux “check.” From horse racing dreams (her bucket list is a Kentucky Derby winner named Danny California) to how she landed 1923 by actually knowing how to ride a horse when another actress couldn't — Danielle proves preparation meets destiny. Plus, she spills on working with Harrison Ford, crossing paths with Helen Mirren, and filming The Madison in Montana. The tea gets deeper when Danielle reveals she nearly lost her life in early COVID days — placed on a ventilator, dropping to 90 pounds, and relearning how to walk. Her resilience and gratitude shine as she recalls surviving against all odds, a life-changing moment that reshaped everything. Patrik and Pol' share their own brushes with illness, a dramatic horse accident (caught on film for Gown and Out in Beverly Hills), and how angels—and a bit of couture flair—always seem to intervene. And because it's not Undressed without some glam gossip, we touch on Danielle being honored as Glamour Magazine's Woman of the Year, modeling for Condé Nast in Cappadocia, and her Comic-Con adventures (yes, being body-scanned in Van Nuys by “Dick” is as awkward as it sounds). Finally, Pol' pulls Danielle into the mystical world of his famous coffee cup reading. In the grinds, he sees anchors of her life: a feather tied to her role as Kestrel in The Madison and a volcanic rock from Iceland she always carries, both symbols of grounding and destiny. The reading hints at not only two new opportunities ahead, but also a hidden admirer in her life who wants to step out of the “friend zone.” Danielle is shook, Patrik is cackling, and Pol' insists the rock will guide her toward love and fortune. From Hollywood gossip to heartfelt survival stories, farm life to fashion spreads, and casinos to Comanche dialect coaches, this episode is a rollercoaster of laughs, revelations, and glam-tastic storytelling that proves Danielle Vasinova is anything but ordinary. Subscribe to our audio: linktr.ee/undressedpod Follow Pol Atteu:  Instagram: @polatteu  Tiktok: @polatteu  Twitter: @polatteu  www.polatteu.com Follow Patrik Simpson:  Instagram: @patriksimpson  Tiktok: @patriksimpsonbh www.patriksimpson.com Follow SnowWhite90210: Instagram: @snowwhite90210 Twitter: @SnowWhite9010 www.snowwhite90210.com Watch Gown and Out In Beverly Hills on Prime Video.  www.gownandoutinbeverlyhills.com #UndressedPodcast  Armenian Coffee Reading: https://polatteu.com/armenian-coffee-cup-read Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Among the big wins in athletic competition this summer is the victory by the Haudenosaunee Nationals at the Pan-American Women's Lacrosse Championship. They are first time medalists at the senior level and their win over Puerto Rico has far-reaching implications. We'll hear from a player and a coach for the team and take the opportunity to catch up with some other notable Native athletes, from a Comanche professional boxer to the Diné college swimmer.

Dakota Wahkinney is a special human being. He's a Content Creator for Luguentz Dort, Freelance Videographer, and one of the only Native American media professionals in the NBA, and proud Comanche from Lawton, Oklahoma. In this episode, we dive deep into his journey on how he got to where he is today, betting on yourself, taking massive action, and staying true to your purpose. We also discuss the tough losses he has experienced through losing grandparents and how that shaped and molded him to become the best version of himself. This podcast has always been about telling your story, and Dakota did just that… Hope you all enjoy… KEEPGOING!Follow Dakota:IG- https://www.instagram.com/dakotawahkinney?igsh=Ymk2cHJiaXNhYnVrIG- https://www.instagram.com/tourwithyk?igsh=NXhkcG5ybm8xZGZjWebsite- https://www.ykvisuals.com/Follow me:IG- https://www.instagram.com/zdsellsokc/FB- https://www.facebook.com/ZDsellsOKC/

He's the quiet force at the top of the lineup—until the whistle blows. In this episode of Dynasty Defined, we sit down with Oklahoma State heavyweight and rising senior Konner Doucet to talk about his journey from Comanche, Oklahoma to the national stage. Konner opens up about what it's like carrying the pressure of the final match, how he's evolved as a wrestler, and what it means to be part of the Cowboy tradition under new head coach David Taylor.We break down his offseason mindset, biggest takeaways from last year, and what he's working on to become an All-American in his final season. If you're a fan of grit, growth, and Cowboy wrestling, this episode is a must-listen.

PART 3 Join me in this 3-part series as LaNora Parker, great-granddaughter of legendary Comanche leader Quanah Parker, shares her story of leadership, survival, and healing. LaNora was one of the first women to serve as Vice Chairman and Interim Chairwoman of the Comanche Nation. She reflects on her family's powerful legacy—her father, Simmons Parker, was a Comanche Code Talker and WWII hero—and how that shaped her path. She opens up about the painful realities of Native boarding schools, the loneliness, and cultural erasure she experienced, and how Comanche language and hymns remained a source of strength. Now, as a voice for Native recovery, LaNora shares her personal healing journey and her mission to support sobriety through culture and purpose! Along with her niece, she co-founded Warchief Collection, a non-alcoholic beverage line rooted in Native wellness and resilience. Learn more at warchiefcollection.com Her words of encouragement for all who are in recovery? “Pray about it. Cry about it. Read about it. Write about it. Talk about it. Be about it.” Native ChocTalk Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/nativechoctalkpodcast All Podcast Episodes: https://nativechoctalk.com/podcasts/

PART 1 Join me in this 3-part series as LaNora Parker, great-granddaughter of legendary Comanche leader Quanah Parker, shares her story of leadership, survival, and healing. LaNora was one of the first women to serve as Vice Chairman and Interim Chairwoman of the Comanche Nation. She reflects on her family's powerful legacy—her father, Simmons Parker, was a Comanche Code Talker and WWII hero—and how that shaped her path. She opens up about the painful realities of Native boarding schools, the loneliness, and cultural erasure she experienced, and how Comanche language and hymns remained a source of strength. Now, as a voice for Native recovery, LaNora shares her personal healing journey and her mission to support sobriety through culture and purpose! Along with her niece, she co-founded Warchief Collection, a non-alcoholic beverage line rooted in Native wellness and resilience. Learn more at warchiefcollection.com Her words of encouragement for all who are in recovery? “Pray about it. Cry about it. Read about it. Write about it. Talk about it. Be about it.” Native ChocTalk Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/nativechoctalkpodcast  All Podcast Episodes: https://nativechoctalk.com/podcasts/

Join me in this 3-part series as LaNora Parker, great-granddaughter of legendary Comanche leader Quanah Parker, shares her story of leadership, survival, and healing. LaNora was one of the first women to serve as Vice Chairman and Interim Chairwoman of the Comanche Nation. She reflects on her family's powerful legacy—her father, Simmons Parker, was a Comanche Code Talker and WWII hero—and how that shaped her path. She opens up about the painful realities of Native boarding schools, the loneliness, and cultural erasure she experienced, and how Comanche language and hymns remained a source of strength. Now, as a voice for Native recovery, LaNora shares her personal healing journey and her mission to support sobriety through culture and purpose! Along with her niece, she co-founded Warchief Collection, a non-alcoholic beverage line rooted in Native wellness and resilience. Learn more at warchiefcollection.com Her words of encouragement for all who are in recovery? “Pray about it. Cry about it. Read about it. Write about it. Talk about it. Be about it.” Native ChocTalk Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/nativechoctalkpodcast All Podcast Episodes: https://nativechoctalk.com/podcasts/

To understand American history and its deep-seated relationship with violence, we must look to the last three decades of the 1800s in the American West, which had the highest murder rate per capita in American history. And it all boils down to one place: Texas. Texas was born in violence, on two fronts, with Mexico to the south and the Comanche to the north, and the invention of the Colt revolver only made the area wilder and less orderly. Across the nineteenth-century frontier defending one’s honor and reputation often resulted in duels and bitter feuds. After the cattle business boom, this sensation spilled into the greater West from Arizona to Wyoming to Kansas. The trigger-happy assortment of rustlers, hustlers, gamblers, and freelance lawmen, and their desire to defend their honor caught the eye of newspapers, igniting a firestorm of mythmaking. The word “gun-man” first appears in a newspaper in 1874, followed by an explosion of Western biographies and memoirs in the 1920s. 1940s-1950s Hollywood reimagined these gunfighters as leading men, introducing Billy the Kid and Wyatt Earp to a new generation. Today’s guest is Bryan Burrough, author of “The Gunfighters: How Texas Made the West Wild.” We explore how only in the American West could gunfighters exist, and what led to the death of this unique period in time.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.