Podcasts about Downstairs

Suddenly, as I looked up from my makeshift workspace, where I had been toiling away for hours at seemingly nothing—I realized the world was full of everything I'd ever wanted to fuck; something primal and ancient had been awakening within me and I was left in a dangerous volitile position, drifting somewhere between reckless promiscuity in a sexual escapade—and the pseudo-conservative now-only partially celibate maiden form of fantasy—there wasn't anything I could do but wait inside my tragic box for some unassuming old soul to finally open the gate—and allow whatever devious and fiending hedonistic godbeing —though never fully lying dormant, entrapped and imprisoned in a loveless and sexless prison. You might recognize me. You Know, I was one of the original Kings of comedy. If I put my heart inside a box; Maybe I'd forget how cold it was Or how far you are Or how much it hurts There's no harm in God, If there ever was one Then, reality sets in: God was my only friend No armor on, I'm at the end Or a long, long walk I'm off again And on again Nothing's impossible— stop at the alter and scoff a bit I left my coat on, I left my heart on the rooftop, A sacrifice, love At the alter, I wonder a song, Or a sonnet A song, No, what's wrong? Something off a bit God, I woke up in a coffin once Isn't that awful The rest or the song wrote itself, At the alter No, I can't stop and talk Got to get off, Cause I've never been on I've never belonged in the world I'm 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 The elevator music Of my ascension The attitude of attraction, Gratitude, it's so unusual Fight to lose, In a room full of fools; The fuse, and the matchbox— Futile—amusing— Tunes from a hatchback Keys in the lockbox What you want, From the problem solver? That's enough; Now she's out of the box In just socks, And they laugh at her— But also wonder Where her shoes might have gone to There's a lot of ways to get out of a big black duffel bag, You just have to ask, actually But there's only one To get out of the coffin, Or “Box” as they called it, That she was locked up in Futile—amusing— Tunes from a hatchback Keys in the lockbox What you want, From the problem solver? That's enough; Now she's out of the box In just socks, And they laugh at her— But also wonder Where her shoes might have gone to I won't got no business in the business I unplug the plug because I'm finish Just because my skin they think I'm niggas But that disrespect because I isn't You disrespected me Put the emphasis in neglect Synthesis? Sympathies Put some respect on my name Before I put some facts in these flames Making me famous But you don't play me Picking up packages Trying to play me I am the president bitch Not the lady Okay Scratch my back With a metal spatula Take a step back, this is not your world Take a step back While I skip forward This is snitch territory; You should be very aware of me Beware If that's didn't scare you Just stay right there I'm in weight class: BEAR Flying first class air with howling thunderous winds and much hacking, “TIMOTHY THE GIANT CAT” dislodges a Omg dislodges a what? I have no idea that's all that was there. omg. My mother must've known something about me I couldn't have; My mother must have given me her monster But this monster knows better. Even just the profile is an irritant for now; Unsure, meditterenian, Overgrown pantheons turned to ruins What happened was harder, Turbulence I've been good, Golden even But this computer wants me gone And now, Aggravated Assault with a program Who would have thought the forth world war would be fought With our own thoughts? No one. Hm. Even just a glimpse and imm angrier than I've ever been. Still something creeps like the Harvard doctor Or the burning fire Or the flicker of just a thought A meadowlark and still Vines at the bottom of the spring In the pantheon Rhythms and rythms and Now I remember why were blowing up the counterparts Shut up, And pay your taxes Nothing to see here, bottoms up. But it's only 9 and half a clock Remember Sonny, would ya Now we're all obscure in the shadowbox Fix you up a seller Shortly temple soda Surely something lingers Sure enough The forest, And the father And the omen And the harpist And the seeker And the shadow And the wonder And the alter Therefore, Who art thou Therefore, who, Arthur What a wonderful tragedy, Mr. Lin He said, “I thought you'd though so” I say, “Prayers answered and nothing less Than just in the nick of time, For nickel backs And Pennie's picked up, Now in capsules Who you are, I falter But nevertheless A songbird” What a vow, God. I try to keep my promises But my face is still wilted And awkward I take those punches Just about as well As the bag I've become Downstairs, embankments And more shadow boxes Gift, valentines And then now By Fourth of July I should be quite the disappointment To just about everyone Who even had a thought about her There are no more colors Just wounds, And salt shakers, Garlic and Slamming doors Art throbs And heart connesuiers And curators Existential crisis And inward turmoil Oil on canvas Blood spills Long before it ever boils Cauldrons Candle marks Ought, with my eye out Out, with the harpists! I put my eye on, Dose now, Flicker flames, Shadow box Goodnight drunken soldier Pity this, I want to sleep, but wither I want to weep, but am watched I must be under some kind of… Umbrella. I bust me under some kind of — Possession. I must be under surveillance The Devil's in the neighbor The proof is in the pudding I want to punch the possum Or wombat Or what you would call a rodent Dressed as some dumb girl I'm sure she gets paid by the poem To poke and prod But I've written symphonies next door While she plants the seeds of the devil's words And still tries to force conformity In a neighborhood riddled with disease Of which includes her Poor habits and lack of personality No vibration after all But I've hydrated perfectly And circumstances permit, Again, I've written symphonies and never ending sagas in the bathtub While you threaten to pull the plug And put the light out I beg you to watch me Rip my veins apart with box cutters And razorblades Then again, Probably with glee, The whites would watch Another black in agony They seem to really like that Then again The blacks, the shadows Cursed beats Seem to rip each other into pieces As if for entertainment or otherwise Watch this They seem to hate each other moredoes Anybody else actually hate them also And therefore I watch pitifully and become Respectfully disengaged As I am sorted into Creatures of the agony, abyss and wisdom old A tale as old as time and still Something forgotten, Even still It is a man's war, And us as women are just Objects, Then whatever lurks next door is more An empty body or a shell Than ever more a woman was That was my husband you stole from the office. Fucking dumb whore. Then again; What never was owned Then cannot be stolen See golden brotherhood, Crepes and popes, Sacred pipes Cerulean, And keeping her out of our concepts And gardens Planting seeds of choking mongrels And still here We dance in the meadowlarks song And the chosen fountain The blue rays of sun, And the wonder's bow and arrow Again, I call? Well, again I wake As lover does not call But yet I to answer with a song of words And heart of such A song of one to call for But nothing lays more secret then These eyes and filled with pains A wound, salted A bullet, And gillotine Ouch Get out, God. Listen, mister listen A couple hours later And my eyes are steady getting misty Filled with sweat and bears No blood yet Stings my eyes So you know I ain't been eating right And eyes o. Irish Hash and cabbage Checks to cash And slight advantage God help us all If the brim of the hat is dripping And I'm gripping these quarts as I sleep And thinking of Jimmy Croissants fresher baked in the oven Then somebody better love my son Before I go and end the world And pull the plug I ain't got nothing left for em but diamonds! I left forums unanswered I started a lot of unfinished problems But the thing is, I'm almost sure they're already solved Considering as alcoholism's a solvent It cams hurt the hard boards And mother drives The tears are filled with sweat And fountains Somebody else should call it in I'm in so much trouble with the network Thanks a lot, you algorithm fucking Cocksuck programmers Now my heart hurts And soul is vanished How hard do I have to run To go and catch her I looked 15 years into the past And found a wheeelbarrow and basket I have got to get out of here I have got to get out of here Here the coroner comes for Debbie Cadaver But I'm still her, huh Aren't I? Run! You fucking Irish bastard Perfectly tan and yet still, stark white Perfectly golden and still, I'm on numbers Perfectly parished, And still I went backwards A wedding or funeral? All catholic, no services No difference at all And still Nothings worse than Indifference I'm in so much trouble with the network Be king in the nexrophiliac And still I left the golden metropolis For nothing but a metro card and Simple segregative diversity tactics I wanted the heartland! Still, Irish bastard Wish hash and cabbage I've got to get out of here Pushing a basket Abandonment And Fatal attraction You can't sell me anything If I can't buy it Recovery day But I don't feel like it Muscles tired, I'm elastic Send them to the band camp (White lion) I'm elastic Twists and turns and I'm elastic Double up, Double up I'm elastic Twists and turns and There's vampires Don't feel like it Double up double up I'm elastic Take a lesson This is tragic Double up double up I promise, it is personal not business It's professional, no promises now On the radio tower Spread it out Or just hijinx it I mix drinks with hindsight I'm elastic Lesson learned and Twists and turns Between the fireman and the super Someone left a stench And an energy marker in my room That left me clawing at my “Do not touch” money And it hit below the belt. It was all God's comedy, But not in the least funny, I knew I didn't like the super really for whatever reason But even after he left to check the Fire defectors His stench lingered over the smell of the forgotten smoke And I woke up from a nightmare As if I'd lost control When normally, I know imm dreaming with Enough time to change things Before they spiral out of control— And the worst part, I didn't remember the dream at all besides Waking up, finally at the end Realizing it was a dream and telling myself It was okay, because now I could just wake up But it wasn't okay, and I blamed the super And whatever he brought with him For lingering in my space Which didn't really feel like mine anymore, anyways, Because the neighbor was evil as they come And they were always playing mind games in the building And the motorcycles And really I deserved better But I couldn't afford it And because I couldn't afford it The demons were always lurking Trying to penetrate my space And they did, that day And it was God's comedy But it wasn't funny And it lingered And the nightmares And the motorcycles was a years long nightmare indeed And hey, At least I got some new music. I realized my show might be the only place my “remixes” might ever see the light of day or have ears other than mine; I couldn't afford the permissions and licenses for most of the music I wanted to remix— nor did I have the energy or the funds to secure the means to come across them. And so, it might have been a good idea to start working; I emptied my bank accounts with intention, with a kind of understanding that it didn't matter at all anyway. Kind of nothing mattered, because there was no real money involved— and I had, in fact stumbled upon the opportunity in a suicidal spiral of desperation, being somewhat hopelessly lost at random in what I thought was Williamsburg; it wasn't, I had apparently walked around Brooklyn in an extremely large loop for about an hour before I realized I might be going in the wrong direction because I couldn't see Manhattan anymore, I didn't care. It was probably 77 or something degrees but with the New York humidity it felt like 90, and I was wearing a head to toe full body sauna suit trying to recover from the end of the month's rations of beans, rice, and literally whatever the fuck I really wanted, because it was really also whatever the fuck I could afford without running out of food for the month before my card reloaded. Thinking I should just die, and in the same very moment stumbling across an opportunity that wasn't nessarily a job, but could easily lead to one— and so, after paying my internet bill, I plunged and poured nearly every last cent I had left over Into what? Idk it just ends there. Goddamnit. {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.

Suddenly, as I looked up from my makeshift workspace, where I had been toiling away for hours at seemingly nothing—I realized the world was full of everything I'd ever wanted to fuck; something primal and ancient had been awakening within me and I was left in a dangerous volitile position, drifting somewhere between reckless promiscuity in a sexual escapade—and the pseudo-conservative now-only partially celibate maiden form of fantasy—there wasn't anything I could do but wait inside my tragic box for some unassuming old soul to finally open the gate—and allow whatever devious and fiending hedonistic godbeing —though never fully lying dormant, entrapped and imprisoned in a loveless and sexless prison. You might recognize me. You Know, I was one of the original Kings of comedy. If I put my heart inside a box; Maybe I'd forget how cold it was Or how far you are Or how much it hurts There's no harm in God, If there ever was one Then, reality sets in: God was my only friend No armor on, I'm at the end Or a long, long walk I'm off again And on again Nothing's impossible— stop at the alter and scoff a bit I left my coat on, I left my heart on the rooftop, A sacrifice, love At the alter, I wonder a song, Or a sonnet A song, No, what's wrong? Something off a bit God, I woke up in a coffin once Isn't that awful The rest or the song wrote itself, At the alter No, I can't stop and talk Got to get off, Cause I've never been on I've never belonged in the world I'm 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 The elevator music Of my ascension The attitude of attraction, Gratitude, it's so unusual Fight to lose, In a room full of fools; The fuse, and the matchbox— Futile—amusing— Tunes from a hatchback Keys in the lockbox What you want, From the problem solver? That's enough; Now she's out of the box In just socks, And they laugh at her— But also wonder Where her shoes might have gone to There's a lot of ways to get out of a big black duffel bag, You just have to ask, actually But there's only one To get out of the coffin, Or “Box” as they called it, That she was locked up in Futile—amusing— Tunes from a hatchback Keys in the lockbox What you want, From the problem solver? That's enough; Now she's out of the box In just socks, And they laugh at her— But also wonder Where her shoes might have gone to I won't got no business in the business I unplug the plug because I'm finish Just because my skin they think I'm niggas But that disrespect because I isn't You disrespected me Put the emphasis in neglect Synthesis? Sympathies Put some respect on my name Before I put some facts in these flames Making me famous But you don't play me Picking up packages Trying to play me I am the president bitch Not the lady Okay Scratch my back With a metal spatula Take a step back, this is not your world Take a step back While I skip forward This is snitch territory; You should be very aware of me Beware If that's didn't scare you Just stay right there I'm in weight class: BEAR Flying first class air with howling thunderous winds and much hacking, “TIMOTHY THE GIANT CAT” dislodges a Omg dislodges a what? I have no idea that's all that was there. omg. My mother must've known something about me I couldn't have; My mother must have given me her monster But this monster knows better. Even just the profile is an irritant for now; Unsure, meditterenian, Overgrown pantheons turned to ruins What happened was harder, Turbulence I've been good, Golden even But this computer wants me gone And now, Aggravated Assault with a program Who would have thought the forth world war would be fought With our own thoughts? No one. Hm. Even just a glimpse and imm angrier than I've ever been. Still something creeps like the Harvard doctor Or the burning fire Or the flicker of just a thought A meadowlark and still Vines at the bottom of the spring In the pantheon Rhythms and rythms and Now I remember why were blowing up the counterparts Shut up, And pay your taxes Nothing to see here, bottoms up. But it's only 9 and half a clock Remember Sonny, would ya Now we're all obscure in the shadowbox Fix you up a seller Shortly temple soda Surely something lingers Sure enough The forest, And the father And the omen And the harpist And the seeker And the shadow And the wonder And the alter Therefore, Who art thou Therefore, who, Arthur What a wonderful tragedy, Mr. Lin He said, “I thought you'd though so” I say, “Prayers answered and nothing less Than just in the nick of time, For nickel backs And Pennie's picked up, Now in capsules Who you are, I falter But nevertheless A songbird” What a vow, God. I try to keep my promises But my face is still wilted And awkward I take those punches Just about as well As the bag I've become Downstairs, embankments And more shadow boxes Gift, valentines And then now By Fourth of July I should be quite the disappointment To just about everyone Who even had a thought about her There are no more colors Just wounds, And salt shakers, Garlic and Slamming doors Art throbs And heart connesuiers And curators Existential crisis And inward turmoil Oil on canvas Blood spills Long before it ever boils Cauldrons Candle marks Ought, with my eye out Out, with the harpists! I put my eye on, Dose now, Flicker flames, Shadow box Goodnight drunken soldier Pity this, I want to sleep, but wither I want to weep, but am watched I must be under some kind of… Umbrella. I bust me under some kind of — Possession. I must be under surveillance The Devil's in the neighbor The proof is in the pudding I want to punch the possum Or wombat Or what you would call a rodent Dressed as some dumb girl I'm sure she gets paid by the poem To poke and prod But I've written symphonies next door While she plants the seeds of the devil's words And still tries to force conformity In a neighborhood riddled with disease Of which includes her Poor habits and lack of personality No vibration after all But I've hydrated perfectly And circumstances permit, Again, I've written symphonies and never ending sagas in the bathtub While you threaten to pull the plug And put the light out I beg you to watch me Rip my veins apart with box cutters And razorblades Then again, Probably with glee, The whites would watch Another black in agony They seem to really like that Then again The blacks, the shadows Cursed beats Seem to rip each other into pieces As if for entertainment or otherwise Watch this They seem to hate each other moredoes Anybody else actually hate them also And therefore I watch pitifully and become Respectfully disengaged As I am sorted into Creatures of the agony, abyss and wisdom old A tale as old as time and still Something forgotten, Even still It is a man's war, And us as women are just Objects, Then whatever lurks next door is more An empty body or a shell Than ever more a woman was That was my husband you stole from the office. Fucking dumb whore. Then again; What never was owned Then cannot be stolen See golden brotherhood, Crepes and popes, Sacred pipes Cerulean, And keeping her out of our concepts And gardens Planting seeds of choking mongrels And still here We dance in the meadowlarks song And the chosen fountain The blue rays of sun, And the wonder's bow and arrow Again, I call? Well, again I wake As lover does not call But yet I to answer with a song of words And heart of such A song of one to call for But nothing lays more secret then These eyes and filled with pains A wound, salted A bullet, And gillotine Ouch Get out, God. Listen, mister listen A couple hours later And my eyes are steady getting misty Filled with sweat and bears No blood yet Stings my eyes So you know I ain't been eating right And eyes o. Irish Hash and cabbage Checks to cash And slight advantage God help us all If the brim of the hat is dripping And I'm gripping these quarts as I sleep And thinking of Jimmy Croissants fresher baked in the oven Then somebody better love my son Before I go and end the world And pull the plug I ain't got nothing left for em but diamonds! I left forums unanswered I started a lot of unfinished problems But the thing is, I'm almost sure they're already solved Considering as alcoholism's a solvent It cams hurt the hard boards And mother drives The tears are filled with sweat And fountains Somebody else should call it in I'm in so much trouble with the network Thanks a lot, you algorithm fucking Cocksuck programmers Now my heart hurts And soul is vanished How hard do I have to run To go and catch her I looked 15 years into the past And found a wheeelbarrow and basket I have got to get out of here I have got to get out of here Here the coroner comes for Debbie Cadaver But I'm still her, huh Aren't I? Run! You fucking Irish bastard Perfectly tan and yet still, stark white Perfectly golden and still, I'm on numbers Perfectly parished, And still I went backwards A wedding or funeral? All catholic, no services No difference at all And still Nothings worse than Indifference I'm in so much trouble with the network Be king in the nexrophiliac And still I left the golden metropolis For nothing but a metro card and Simple segregative diversity tactics I wanted the heartland! Still, Irish bastard Wish hash and cabbage I've got to get out of here Pushing a basket Abandonment And Fatal attraction You can't sell me anything If I can't buy it Recovery day But I don't feel like it Muscles tired, I'm elastic Send them to the band camp (White lion) I'm elastic Twists and turns and I'm elastic Double up, Double up I'm elastic Twists and turns and There's vampires Don't feel like it Double up double up I'm elastic Take a lesson This is tragic Double up double up I promise, it is personal not business It's professional, no promises now On the radio tower Spread it out Or just hijinx it I mix drinks with hindsight I'm elastic Lesson learned and Twists and turns Between the fireman and the super Someone left a stench And an energy marker in my room That left me clawing at my “Do not touch” money And it hit below the belt. It was all God's comedy, But not in the least funny, I knew I didn't like the super really for whatever reason But even after he left to check the Fire defectors His stench lingered over the smell of the forgotten smoke And I woke up from a nightmare As if I'd lost control When normally, I know imm dreaming with Enough time to change things Before they spiral out of control— And the worst part, I didn't remember the dream at all besides Waking up, finally at the end Realizing it was a dream and telling myself It was okay, because now I could just wake up But it wasn't okay, and I blamed the super And whatever he brought with him For lingering in my space Which didn't really feel like mine anymore, anyways, Because the neighbor was evil as they come And they were always playing mind games in the building And the motorcycles And really I deserved better But I couldn't afford it And because I couldn't afford it The demons were always lurking Trying to penetrate my space And they did, that day And it was God's comedy But it wasn't funny And it lingered And the nightmares And the motorcycles was a years long nightmare indeed And hey, At least I got some new music. I realized my show might be the only place my “remixes” might ever see the light of day or have ears other than mine; I couldn't afford the permissions and licenses for most of the music I wanted to remix— nor did I have the energy or the funds to secure the means to come across them. And so, it might have been a good idea to start working; I emptied my bank accounts with intention, with a kind of understanding that it didn't matter at all anyway. Kind of nothing mattered, because there was no real money involved— and I had, in fact stumbled upon the opportunity in a suicidal spiral of desperation, being somewhat hopelessly lost at random in what I thought was Williamsburg; it wasn't, I had apparently walked around Brooklyn in an extremely large loop for about an hour before I realized I might be going in the wrong direction because I couldn't see Manhattan anymore, I didn't care. It was probably 77 or something degrees but with the New York humidity it felt like 90, and I was wearing a head to toe full body sauna suit trying to recover from the end of the month's rations of beans, rice, and literally whatever the fuck I really wanted, because it was really also whatever the fuck I could afford without running out of food for the month before my card reloaded. Thinking I should just die, and in the same very moment stumbling across an opportunity that wasn't nessarily a job, but could easily lead to one— and so, after paying my internet bill, I plunged and poured nearly every last cent I had left over Into what? Idk it just ends there. Goddamnit. {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.

Suddenly, as I looked up from my makeshift workspace, where I had been toiling away for hours at seemingly nothing—I realized the world was full of everything I'd ever wanted to fuck; something primal and ancient had been awakening within me and I was left in a dangerous volitile position, drifting somewhere between reckless promiscuity in a sexual escapade—and the pseudo-conservative now-only partially celibate maiden form of fantasy—there wasn't anything I could do but wait inside my tragic box for some unassuming old soul to finally open the gate—and allow whatever devious and fiending hedonistic godbeing —though never fully lying dormant, entrapped and imprisoned in a loveless and sexless prison. You might recognize me. You Know, I was one of the original Kings of comedy. If I put my heart inside a box; Maybe I'd forget how cold it was Or how far you are Or how much it hurts There's no harm in God, If there ever was one Then, reality sets in: God was my only friend No armor on, I'm at the end Or a long, long walk I'm off again And on again Nothing's impossible— stop at the alter and scoff a bit I left my coat on, I left my heart on the rooftop, A sacrifice, love At the alter, I wonder a song, Or a sonnet A song, No, what's wrong? Something off a bit God, I woke up in a coffin once Isn't that awful The rest or the song wrote itself, At the alter No, I can't stop and talk Got to get off, Cause I've never been on I've never belonged in the world I'm 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 The elevator music Of my ascension The attitude of attraction, Gratitude, it's so unusual Fight to lose, In a room full of fools; The fuse, and the matchbox— Futile—amusing— Tunes from a hatchback Keys in the lockbox What you want, From the problem solver? That's enough; Now she's out of the box In just socks, And they laugh at her— But also wonder Where her shoes might have gone to There's a lot of ways to get out of a big black duffel bag, You just have to ask, actually But there's only one To get out of the coffin, Or “Box” as they called it, That she was locked up in Futile—amusing— Tunes from a hatchback Keys in the lockbox What you want, From the problem solver? That's enough; Now she's out of the box In just socks, And they laugh at her— But also wonder Where her shoes might have gone to I won't got no business in the business I unplug the plug because I'm finish Just because my skin they think I'm niggas But that disrespect because I isn't You disrespected me Put the emphasis in neglect Synthesis? Sympathies Put some respect on my name Before I put some facts in these flames Making me famous But you don't play me Picking up packages Trying to play me I am the president bitch Not the lady Okay Scratch my back With a metal spatula Take a step back, this is not your world Take a step back While I skip forward This is snitch territory; You should be very aware of me Beware If that's didn't scare you Just stay right there I'm in weight class: BEAR Flying first class air with howling thunderous winds and much hacking, “TIMOTHY THE GIANT CAT” dislodges a Omg dislodges a what? I have no idea that's all that was there. omg. My mother must've known something about me I couldn't have; My mother must have given me her monster But this monster knows better. Even just the profile is an irritant for now; Unsure, meditterenian, Overgrown pantheons turned to ruins What happened was harder, Turbulence I've been good, Golden even But this computer wants me gone And now, Aggravated Assault with a program Who would have thought the forth world war would be fought With our own thoughts? No one. Hm. Even just a glimpse and imm angrier than I've ever been. Still something creeps like the Harvard doctor Or the burning fire Or the flicker of just a thought A meadowlark and still Vines at the bottom of the spring In the pantheon Rhythms and rythms and Now I remember why were blowing up the counterparts Shut up, And pay your taxes Nothing to see here, bottoms up. But it's only 9 and half a clock Remember Sonny, would ya Now we're all obscure in the shadowbox Fix you up a seller Shortly temple soda Surely something lingers Sure enough The forest, And the father And the omen And the harpist And the seeker And the shadow And the wonder And the alter Therefore, Who art thou Therefore, who, Arthur What a wonderful tragedy, Mr. Lin He said, “I thought you'd though so” I say, “Prayers answered and nothing less Than just in the nick of time, For nickel backs And Pennie's picked up, Now in capsules Who you are, I falter But nevertheless A songbird” What a vow, God. I try to keep my promises But my face is still wilted And awkward I take those punches Just about as well As the bag I've become Downstairs, embankments And more shadow boxes Gift, valentines And then now By Fourth of July I should be quite the disappointment To just about everyone Who even had a thought about her There are no more colors Just wounds, And salt shakers, Garlic and Slamming doors Art throbs And heart connesuiers And curators Existential crisis And inward turmoil Oil on canvas Blood spills Long before it ever boils Cauldrons Candle marks Ought, with my eye out Out, with the harpists! I put my eye on, Dose now, Flicker flames, Shadow box Goodnight drunken soldier Pity this, I want to sleep, but wither I want to weep, but am watched I must be under some kind of… Umbrella. I bust me under some kind of — Possession. I must be under surveillance The Devil's in the neighbor The proof is in the pudding I want to punch the possum Or wombat Or what you would call a rodent Dressed as some dumb girl I'm sure she gets paid by the poem To poke and prod But I've written symphonies next door While she plants the seeds of the devil's words And still tries to force conformity In a neighborhood riddled with disease Of which includes her Poor habits and lack of personality No vibration after all But I've hydrated perfectly And circumstances permit, Again, I've written symphonies and never ending sagas in the bathtub While you threaten to pull the plug And put the light out I beg you to watch me Rip my veins apart with box cutters And razorblades Then again, Probably with glee, The whites would watch Another black in agony They seem to really like that Then again The blacks, the shadows Cursed beats Seem to rip each other into pieces As if for entertainment or otherwise Watch this They seem to hate each other moredoes Anybody else actually hate them also And therefore I watch pitifully and become Respectfully disengaged As I am sorted into Creatures of the agony, abyss and wisdom old A tale as old as time and still Something forgotten, Even still It is a man's war, And us as women are just Objects, Then whatever lurks next door is more An empty body or a shell Than ever more a woman was That was my husband you stole from the office. Fucking dumb whore. Then again; What never was owned Then cannot be stolen See golden brotherhood, Crepes and popes, Sacred pipes Cerulean, And keeping her out of our concepts And gardens Planting seeds of choking mongrels And still here We dance in the meadowlarks song And the chosen fountain The blue rays of sun, And the wonder's bow and arrow Again, I call? Well, again I wake As lover does not call But yet I to answer with a song of words And heart of such A song of one to call for But nothing lays more secret then These eyes and filled with pains A wound, salted A bullet, And gillotine Ouch Get out, God. Listen, mister listen A couple hours later And my eyes are steady getting misty Filled with sweat and bears No blood yet Stings my eyes So you know I ain't been eating right And eyes o. Irish Hash and cabbage Checks to cash And slight advantage God help us all If the brim of the hat is dripping And I'm gripping these quarts as I sleep And thinking of Jimmy Croissants fresher baked in the oven Then somebody better love my son Before I go and end the world And pull the plug I ain't got nothing left for em but diamonds! I left forums unanswered I started a lot of unfinished problems But the thing is, I'm almost sure they're already solved Considering as alcoholism's a solvent It cams hurt the hard boards And mother drives The tears are filled with sweat And fountains Somebody else should call it in I'm in so much trouble with the network Thanks a lot, you algorithm fucking Cocksuck programmers Now my heart hurts And soul is vanished How hard do I have to run To go and catch her I looked 15 years into the past And found a wheeelbarrow and basket I have got to get out of here I have got to get out of here Here the coroner comes for Debbie Cadaver But I'm still her, huh Aren't I? Run! You fucking Irish bastard Perfectly tan and yet still, stark white Perfectly golden and still, I'm on numbers Perfectly parished, And still I went backwards A wedding or funeral? All catholic, no services No difference at all And still Nothings worse than Indifference I'm in so much trouble with the network Be king in the nexrophiliac And still I left the golden metropolis For nothing but a metro card and Simple segregative diversity tactics I wanted the heartland! Still, Irish bastard Wish hash and cabbage I've got to get out of here Pushing a basket Abandonment And Fatal attraction You can't sell me anything If I can't buy it Recovery day But I don't feel like it Muscles tired, I'm elastic Send them to the band camp (White lion) I'm elastic Twists and turns and I'm elastic Double up, Double up I'm elastic Twists and turns and There's vampires Don't feel like it Double up double up I'm elastic Take a lesson This is tragic Double up double up I promise, it is personal not business It's professional, no promises now On the radio tower Spread it out Or just hijinx it I mix drinks with hindsight I'm elastic Lesson learned and Twists and turns Between the fireman and the super Someone left a stench And an energy marker in my room That left me clawing at my “Do not touch” money And it hit below the belt. It was all God's comedy, But not in the least funny, I knew I didn't like the super really for whatever reason But even after he left to check the Fire defectors His stench lingered over the smell of the forgotten smoke And I woke up from a nightmare As if I'd lost control When normally, I know imm dreaming with Enough time to change things Before they spiral out of control— And the worst part, I didn't remember the dream at all besides Waking up, finally at the end Realizing it was a dream and telling myself It was okay, because now I could just wake up But it wasn't okay, and I blamed the super And whatever he brought with him For lingering in my space Which didn't really feel like mine anymore, anyways, Because the neighbor was evil as they come And they were always playing mind games in the building And the motorcycles And really I deserved better But I couldn't afford it And because I couldn't afford it The demons were always lurking Trying to penetrate my space And they did, that day And it was God's comedy But it wasn't funny And it lingered And the nightmares And the motorcycles was a years long nightmare indeed And hey, At least I got some new music. I realized my show might be the only place my “remixes” might ever see the light of day or have ears other than mine; I couldn't afford the permissions and licenses for most of the music I wanted to remix— nor did I have the energy or the funds to secure the means to come across them. And so, it might have been a good idea to start working; I emptied my bank accounts with intention, with a kind of understanding that it didn't matter at all anyway. Kind of nothing mattered, because there was no real money involved— and I had, in fact stumbled upon the opportunity in a suicidal spiral of desperation, being somewhat hopelessly lost at random in what I thought was Williamsburg; it wasn't, I had apparently walked around Brooklyn in an extremely large loop for about an hour before I realized I might be going in the wrong direction because I couldn't see Manhattan anymore, I didn't care. It was probably 77 or something degrees but with the New York humidity it felt like 90, and I was wearing a head to toe full body sauna suit trying to recover from the end of the month's rations of beans, rice, and literally whatever the fuck I really wanted, because it was really also whatever the fuck I could afford without running out of food for the month before my card reloaded. Thinking I should just die, and in the same very moment stumbling across an opportunity that wasn't nessarily a job, but could easily lead to one— and so, after paying my internet bill, I plunged and poured nearly every last cent I had left over Into what? Idk it just ends there. Goddamnit. {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.

Shagbotttom SocietyVictorian Hedonism comes to life.In 13 parts, By BradentonLarry - Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.The two girls held a whispered conference on the big bed, and then Sage was pushing Reyansh away. She said, "Hold on one sec, lover; I want to try something."There was a very quick rearrangement, during which Don never had to leave Felicia's sweet embrace. Then Sage was laying with her head hanging over the edge of the bed, as Felicia lowered her mouth to Sage's cunt and clit, which she proceeded to lick and suck. Felicia's ass was up in the air, and Don continued to fuck her from behind. Then Sage beckoned to Reyansh, "Bring that big boy over here."Eager to comply, he lowered his hard cock for Sage so she could take it into her mouth and then her throat. Sage held his hips to keep her from getting carried away, but he was free to fuck her throat, and that's exactly what he began to do, reaching forward to cup and squeeze Sage's tits in his hands.Don looked down to see his relatively thick cock sliding in and out of Felicia's tight cunt, Felicia's perfect ass, her slender back, the back of her head with her adorable pixie cut, Sage's taut abs and strong thighs, her breasts being manhandled by Reyansh, her beautiful throat as she let him use it, and Reyansh's dark, athletic body as he worked himself in and out of Sage. It was a beautiful spectacle!Don could tell from the way Felicia was moving her right arm that she was fingering Sage as she licked. It didn't take too long before one of Sage's hands went from Reyansh's hip to the top of Felicia's head, and then it was only a minute longer before Sage was writhing on the bed between Felicia and Reyansh as she had a long, intense orgasm. As she shook and trembled, Reyansh pulled his now dripping wet cock out to let her breath."Damn! That was a good one!" Sage breathed."It looked like it," Don grinned from across the bed.Sage sat up and grinned back at him, before curling up to grab Felicia's face and kiss her deeply. Reyansh got up on the bed behind Sage and coaxed her up onto her hands and knees. Then the two women were kissing in the middle of the bed as the two men fucked them from behind. No one was trying to come; they were just enjoying themselves kissing and fucking.After a little bit of this, Sage broke the kiss, and looked over Felicia's shoulder, smiled at Don and asked, "Are you enjoying her hot cunt, Don?""Oh yes!" he grinned. "Are you enjoying Reyansh's big cock inside you?""You know," she laughed. "I really am.""Good!""I agree, but I was thinking, You know how I had all those cocks fucking me earlier?""I do," Don nodded. "It was very hot!""Yeah it was! But I don't remember sweet Felicia here having more than one cock at any time.""Is that right?""Reyansh," Sage asked over her shoulder, "did you see Felicia getting more than one cock?""No, I certainly didn't."All through this exchange, Felicia had done little more than giggle and push back on Don's cock."Well, this won't do at all," Sage decided. "Stop fucking me and get over here and feed Felicia your cock."Don held still until Reyansh was in position, but then he went back to fucking little Felicia harder, shoving her forward onto the cock in her mouth and throat. Sage crawled over to him and kissed him deeply before bending down to reach under Felicia to play with her clit. Before they could get Felicia to the breaking point, though, Sage stopped and asked Don, "She's got a pretty tight little ass, do you think you can fit inside it?""I could certainly try," Don laughed.Felicia murmured her approval around Reyansh's cock."Don't be so quick, sweetie," Sage said. "You're going to have a cock in your cunt too."Felicia's murmur was more enthusiastic, and she managed to nod her head rather emphatically.In another minute, Sage had Reyansh lie on his back and then Felicia mount him, bending forward so Don could push his cock, slippery with Felicia's juices, slowly up into her very tight, very hot ass. Sage leaned on Don's shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Fuck her ass good, baby. Make her come between you two studs!""Yes, ma'am," Don grinned, and proceeded to begin fucking Felicia's ass intently. Long, slow strokes gradually became shorter and faster. All the while Felicia was rocking her pelvis between the two men and groaning with pleasure.Sage move around to get down on her hands and knees so she could kiss Felicia, who could do little but let herself be kissed."Do you like having those cocks fucking you?" Sage asked."Yes," Felicia moaned. "It feels so good.""Are you going to come on their hard cocks?""Uh huh," Felicia breathed. "Very soon.""Do it, baby!" Sage said as she stroked Felicia's pretty face. "Come for us!""Oh god, yes!" Felicia cried as her body began to spasm between the two men. She shook and clenched, her cunt and ass pulling and grasping at the cocks inside her.Sage leaned in again and kissed her deeply. "Good girl," she smiled. Then she looked over Felicia's shoulder and asked, "Did you come? No? What about you down there? No? Well! We'll have to fix that, won't we? You two were partners in the game, right? You met in Rendezvous, right? Very good. Don and I are partners too, so I think we should finish this swap right. Reyansh, I want you to give me your cum wherever you want, and Don, you come for Felicia."Don slowly drew out of Felicia's ass so she could let Reyansh get out from under her. He took her in his arms and asked her, "Where do you want me to come, Felicia?""Please fuck my ass some more, Don," she said as her hand went to his cock. "But let me ride you."In short order, Don was lying next to Sage. She had her legs wrapped around Reyansh's waist, while he held her wrists up over her head as he drove into her cunt. Don was holding his cock erect for Felicia, who was squatting over him, pushing her tight ass down over his flaring head and thick shaft. Felicia leaned back with her hands on Don's thighs and began to raise and lower herself on him.Reyansh was driving into Sage's cunt with abandon, grinding against her clit and surely bottoming out in her grasping cunt. He was looking into her eyes as he fucked her harder and faster. Soon, both of them were groaning and clenching on the bed next to Don and Felicia as Sage's cunt was eagerly pulling a flood of hot cum out of Reyansh's cock.Don found the fact that he was lying next to Sage as she climaxed on another man's cock intensely erotic. The thought that she was yet again getting filled with cum only made the situation hotter! Don began to arch his back to fuck up into Felicia's ass, and reached down to use his thumb to play with her clit. Then there was motion on the bed next to them, and Sage leaned across Don to replace his thumb with her mouth on Felicia's clit. Reyansh stood up on the bed and offered Felicia his cock to clean off.Don lay back and watched the beautiful woman riding his cock take Reyansh's cummy cock into her mouth and suck on it hungrily, and felt Sage's fingers against the base of his cock as she pushed them up into Felicia's cunt. Then Felicia was coming again, moaning around the cock in her mouth and pushing down on Don. This was all Don could take and he felt his body shoving up into her ass as his balls tightened and his cock swelled inside her. Then he was arching his back, pushing up on Sage and into Felicia as he erupted, pumping a geyser of hot cum up into her.Very slowly, assisted by Reyansh, a quivering Felicia fell backwards, letting Don's cock slip out of her. Sage immediately caught it and took it into her mouth, claiming the last of his cum for herself.When she managed to get up on one arm and look at Don, Sage smiled and said, "Another shower?"Don laughed, utterly smitten by the sleepy, well-fucked look in her eyes and her messy mane of red hair, and said, "Sure, but if you think you're getting more sex out of me, "She kissed him quickly and said, "We'll see about that." Then she was clambering over him and pulling him out of the bed. Reyansh was lying there cradling Felicia in his arms, and Sage called back to them, "Don't take all the covers; we'll be back."As the water poured over them, in a brief break in their making out and hurried cleaning, Sage looked up at him and asked, "So, out in the other world, um, are you seeing anyone?"Don chuckled, bent down to kiss her, and then picked her up. She threw her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, sinking down on his cock. Don's hands gripped her ass and slowly raised and lowered her. He smiled and said, "Well, I have this relationship with Toshia that's gotten interesting, but, as you know, she's got a girlfriend, but, actually, I was thinking I would like to be seeing you. If you're free, that is.""I think we can work something out," she smirked. "I take it we're going to be swingers, or something like that.""That does seem to be the way things are going," he kissed her again. "How does that sound to you?""Hum, pretty damn good. Just remember, ""I belong to you," he nodded."Aye, and, for the record, in case you were wondering, vice versa," she said as she flexed herself against him, working up and down and grinding against the base of his cock.Don grinned, "Yeah, I worked that out.""But we share.""Right.""And if we get a chance, we're banging the hell out of Toshia," she said."Of course.""Good," she kissed him. "Now fuck me. I want to have one more orgasm before we go to bed.""Greedy girl," he smiled."Hell yeah!""There was a lot more sex on the Riverboat, and we spent some time at the Resort.""Did she really say that about me?" Toshia asked."I swear," Don chuckled."Uh, I do like the sound of that," she smiled. "But you were saying.""Yeah, we did the Jungle Room, naturally, and I showed her the Temple. She got gangbanged in the Grotto, which is a very wet area, as you might expect.""How many guys? In the gangbang, I mean.""It's not a competition, you know," Don laughed.Toshia rolled her eyes at him."There were about a dozen, plus me.""Yes! Still the champion!" Toshia grinned."Well, that was before her trials, so, ""Doesn't count," Toshia said."Seriously?""I have ruled. Okay, you can go on with the story."Chapter 7. Lady Primrose's EarringsAs he and Sage made their way to the Crimson Mountain, Don was acutely aware of their impending separation, and the fact that they might remain apart for quite some time. Accordingly, he made sure they had a variety of plans for meeting up, if possible, leaving messages, when the opportunity presented itself, etc. Passing through the Manor they would leave word with the Scholar, and then linger about there at least for a few days. Passing through the Resort they would both check in with the Sheriff and leave word with the Sage."I'll try to remember that," Sage laughed."Yeah, and I'm trying to get used to thinking of you as Evelyn," Don smiled.Don also told her about the Wizard as a potential ally whose home might be a good meeting place, and the Witches of the Glen who might be helpful. Of course, they also thought the Maidenhead might be useful, even if they couldn't be too sure it would long remain in Megan's control. In turn, Evelyn told him about a cafe in the bazaar on the far side of the sea, and they agreed to check in at the tavern on the beach and Ambrosia's when in the vicinity of Rendezvous.When they got to the locker rooms in the Hall of the Crimson Mountain King, they bathed, but Don made a point of retrieving the staffs the Wizard had given him and Shelonda what seemed so long ago. Stephanie had had no real experience with such things, and Nicole was positively averse to using any kind of weapon. Evelyn, though, had some martial arts training, though it was mostly in aikido, and definitely had no problem with weapons."Too bad we don't have swords," she mused as she spun the enchanted wooden staff in her hands. Having been made for Shelonda, it was just about the perfect size for Evelyn."God, you're hot!" Don grinned as he admired the way the muscles in her arms and wrists moved as she played with the staff."Oh, we should have gotten bows and arrows from the elves!"Don groaned, "Ugh, why didn't I think of that?"She laughed, "Well, you're not the only one who didn't.""On the other hand," he mused, "it doesn't seem like we're very likely to be called upon to fight anyone. Still, an unbreakable staff can be a useful tool.""Hard wood can definitely be good to get your hands on," she smirked.It turned out that, as long as they bathed and were naked, the red-robed servitors had no problem with letting them proceed into the Pleasure Dome and seemed to pay no attention at all to the staffs."Holy hell!" Evelyn breathed as they entered the vast chamber, momentarily stunned by the scale of both the room and the orgy going on in it."Yeah," Don nodded.They proceeded to the circular couch in the middle of the dome, Evelyn taking in the spectacle as they went."The king's throne is that away, but I want to see if we can just ride the sofa up," Don said. "But first, come with me. I want to have some time with you before we head up."He led her down to the base of the stairs, where they set their staffs off to the side, out of the way but close at hand, and made love for what might be the last time in a long while. Though a few of the other revelers offered to join in, Don and Evelyn kept to themselves this time. When they were finally worn out, they made a quick trip to the nearest fountain to clean up and then returned to the sofa. With their staffs across their laps, and their hands tightly clasped, they rode the couch up to the waiting room."Damn!" Evelyn grinned. "This is not safe at all!"

The brilliant and talented May Darmon and Rob Scerbo join us for some fuckin scenes and conversations!3:00 - On the way to Grandma's funeral14:51 - Date with April O'Neil29:15 - Devito Acting Class43:22 - Office Notebook1:00:22 - House Guest1:12:01 - Period Piece Table Read Subscribe to ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ManDog on YouTube!⁠⁠⁠ (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCNW0sgvxgiENf8OKGjNmoZg)Check out ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠BigGrandeWebsite.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ (http://biggrandewebsite.com/)!Subscribe to ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Big Grande⁠⁠ on Youtube!⁠⁠ (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCd1fKa78tVNRhJzP273mS8g)⁠⁠Eat Pray Dunk⁠⁠ (https://www.reddit.com/r/Earwolf/comments/vn882f/cbb_presents_eat_pray_dunk_with_bill_walton_ep_1/?rdt=56856)& ⁠⁠Hey Randy⁠⁠ (https://www.instagram.com/heyrandypodcast/?hl=en)on ⁠⁠CBB World⁠⁠ (https://www.comedybangbangworld.com/) ! ⁠⁠The Greatest Conversation Ever YT!⁠⁠ (https://www.youtube.com/@TheGreatestConversationEver) ⁠⁠Yes, Also YT! (https://www.youtube.com/@YesAlsoPodcast)

On today's show we're off the rails as Jase discovers his marriage is full of lies, Mike takes on Uber Eats drives everywhere and Pugs massively cocks it all up. TIMENSHTAMPEN: (00:30) Intro- Pugs nails the start(04:18) Fleetwood Mac vs Alice and Chains(07:07) message from Keyzie(11:49) Whats on the telly!(15:39) Case of Keyzies(19:17) Another close fight(20:44) Intro - Pugs actually nails the start(21:59) Mogey's Uber dramas(26:21) Pug's personal question(29:57) Zombie dicks in the outback(34:03) Leftovers chat with Hoytey J(38:17) Intro - Mogey is still sick(40:51) Team list Wednesday (44:43) Meatpattienips69@gmail.com(49:46) Day Tripper(50:42) Follow us on insta Follow The Big Show on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/haurakibigshow Subscribe to the podcast now on iHeartRadio, YouTube, or wherever you get your podcasts! Featuring Jason Hoyte, Mike Minogue, and Keyzie, "The Big Show" drive you home weekdays from 4pm on Radio Hauraki. Providing a hilarious escape from reality for those ‘backbone’ New Zealanders with plenty of laughs and out-the-gate yarns. Download the full podcast here: iHeartRadio: www.iheart.com/podcast/1049-the-hauraki-big-show-71532051/?follow=true Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-hauraki-big-show/id1531952388 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/20OF8YadmJmvzWa7TGRnDI See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This week we talk about the "very special" episode of Diff'rent Strokes and how Adam got Brian all wet. Follow Brian on Threads, Instagram and X - Support the show and get bonus audio/video episodes, ringtones, bonus footage and more!! All at patreon.com/brianmccarthy. 

Our friend Adam Carter returns to the studio for another round of Ask Adam Anything on a Tuesday!

Mens Room Question: What happened to your downstairs area?

Mens Room Question: What happened to your downstairs area?

Live Recorded Set from VirtualDJ Radio TheGrind

On today's bonus best bits from this week, we've got advice, dream chat and proud dads. Follow The Big Show on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/haurakibigshow Subscribe to the podcast now on iHeartRadio, YouTube, or wherever you get your podcasts! Featuring Jason Hoyte, Mike Minogue, and Keyzie, "The Big Show" drive you home weekdays from 4pm on Radio Hauraki. Providing a hilarious escape from reality for those ‘backbone’ New Zealanders with plenty of laughs and out-the-gate yarns. Download the full podcast here: iHeartRadio: www.iheart.com/podcast/1049-the-hauraki-big-show-71532051/?follow=true Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-hauraki-big-show/id1531952388 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/20OF8YadmJmvzWa7TGRnDI See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Hey now Cabalists and welcome to episode 320 of The Secret Cabal! Origins Game Fair 2025 is nearly here and we're all fired up. If you're going to be there you got to join us for our meetup at the Whistle and Keg on June 20th. Then the gang gets into some of the games they've been playing including Praga Caput Regni, YRO, Obsession Upstairs Downstairs, Space Empires 4x, Biblios and a feature review of Septima from Mind Clash games! Then after Tony T hooks us up with his amazing new segment the Founders jump into another Short Topic Extravaganza. Praga Caput Regni: 00:04:44, YRO: 00:12:55, Obsession Upstairs, Downstairs: 00:21:14, Space Empires 4x: 00:31:33, Biblios: 00:42:28, Septima: 00:58:39, News with Tony T: 01:35:45, Short Topic Extravaganza: 02:15:57. Check out our sponsors Restoration Games at https://restorationgames.com/. Game Toppers at https://www.gametoppersllc.com/. And CGE at https://czechgames.com/.

This week, David Kamp explains why it's time to make Trump deport the creator of Saturday Night Live, Lorne Michaels. Then, Stuart Heritage tells us how and why the notorious Fyre Festival is back. We think? And finally, Jean Marsh, one of the great actresses of the past 50 years, who also co-created the beloved and influential television series Upstairs, Downstairs, died recently, and Michael Lindsay-Hogg will join us to share his tribute to the beautiful woman he knew and loved.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Today on the podcast. 3 - Kid with a compound bow. 12 - Veeting your ballsack. 19 - Mould hole. 30 - Eating a meat cyst. 34 - Shoutout to Nick. 35 - Downstairs telling off gone wrong. 39 - Larry the jetski driver. 43 - Sky diving with a naked granny clip. New NFR sunglasses - https://neufound.com/pages/notforradio Give us a follow if you haven't already ~ Jay and Dunc. Want to get in touch? Hit us up, here: https://linktr.ee/notforradio Become a Sniper Elite: https://plus.rova.nz/ Check out our sponsor, Binance, here: https://bit.ly/3Y8N2UuSupport the show: https://plus.rova.nz/

Stupid News 4-17-2025 6am ...How Creepy is the Downstairs? …Only Fans Model Provides Service to Help Couples …She was going 105mph because she was late for her wedding

Third Thursday Artist Alley Open Studios at the South Hill Business Campus this evening, as well as Jazz Thursdays with MAQ at South Hill Cider, a Soup and Salad supper fundraiser at Houtz Hall in Etna, Maundy Thursday service at the First Baptist Church, the What’s Cookin’ Jazz Trio at Bike Bar, and a Memorial Show for Julian Pompilio at Deep Dive. Friday, a Wizard’s Feast at Risley Hall at Cornell, Billy Golicki at Summerhill Brewing, London McDaniel at the Antlers, Night Eagle presents the Slambovian Circus of Dreams at the Lansing Performing Arts Center, and A Very Special Episode, Open Swim, and Green as New Light at Angry Mom Records. For your Saturday, Easter Egg Hunts at the Groton Fire Department and Dryden Baptist Church, an Earth Day festival on the Ithaca Commons, opening day at Steamboat Landing for the Ithaca Farmers Market, and Brian Francis & Co at Summerhill Brewing. Sunday, an Easter Breakfast at the Groton American Legion, Easter Egg Hunt at the Etna Park and Playground, Modern Western Square Dancing at the Lansing Community Center, and Giant Panda Guerilla Dub Squad at Deep Dive. Monday, Joshua Hatcher and Greg Evans at the Downstairs. Tuesday, New Cold [...]

Today's poem is The Party is Downstairs by Didi Jackson.The Slowdown is your daily poetry ritual. In this episode, Major writes… “Today's poem honors the family dog whose imperfections are all the more reason to love. The Slowdown was more than a labor of love. Each episode was an invitation to dream how we might come to love our imperfect world.” Celebrate the power of poems with a gift to The Slowdown today. Every donation makes a difference: https://tinyurl.com/rjm4synp

After spinning the new 'genre wheel,' freshman Polly Greaves chose 'The Downstairs Girl' by Stacey Lee for historical fiction. The book discusses gender and racial segregation, touching on themes of identity and social class, where power equals worth. Freshman Heather Davis spun the wheel and got dystopian for their next genre. Music:Title: Dawn of ChangeArtist: Roman SenykMusic credits License code: WTHPCZQ5HOBHTFV0

Step into the stylish world of The House of Eliott! To Beths immense joy, we're diving into the beloved 90s BBC drama that brought 1920s fashion, ambition, and drama to our screens. Created by Upstairs, Downstairs duo Jean Marsh and Eileen Atkins, the series followed sisters Beatrice and Evangeline Eliott as they built a pioneering fashion house in a world still dominated by men. We'll explore what made The House of Eliott such a standout show—from its lavish period costumes and intricate storytelling to the feminist themes woven throughout. The series perfectly captured the excitement and challenges of the Roaring Twenties, blending high society glamour with the grit of two women fighting for independence in the fashion industry. Despite its devoted fan base, why did it end after just three seasons? Join us as we revisit this unforgettable drama, relive the fashion moments that defined it, find out what the cast went on to, and celebrate the legacy of The House of Eliott. This episode is one you won't want to miss! Talk2TheHand is an independent throwback podcast run by husband and wife, Jimmy and Beth. Obsessed with 90s nostalgia and 90s celebrities, we'll rewind the years and take you back to the greatest era of our lives.   New episodes bursting with nostalgia of the 90s released on Tuesdays. Please subscribe to our podcast and we'll keep you gooey in 1990s love. Find us on Twitter @talk2thehandpod or email us at jimmy@talk2thehand.co.uk or beth@talk2thehand.co.uk

On today's episode, it's Nicholas Cage unleashed to somewhat questionable results in Osgood Perkins' Longlegs.In the film, FBI agent Lee Harker (Maika Monroe), a woman with possible clairvoyant abilities, is drawn into a series of murder-suicides spanning decades. A Lynchian crime procedural that leans into a fusion of supernatural and religious horror, Longlegs is a highly stylized descent intodarkness that has left audiences divided. We're breaking it all down today with spoilers so stay tuned.

On Friday, London McDaniel at the Antlers. Sona Jobarteh at Cornell’s Bailey Hall. And Yam Yam with Metasequoia at Deep Dive. All weekend, the Addams Family School Edition at Newfield High School! For your Saturday, the Ithaca Farmers Market at Triphammer Marketplace, Frank Raponi and Peter Glanville at Grist Iron Brewing Company, Jennie Lowe Stearns at South Hill Cider, a Joni Mitchell Tribute Show at Deep Dive, and the 41st Annual Cornell Fashion Collective spring runway show at Barton Hall. A pancake breakfast at the Trumansburg Fire Department Sunday morning to benefit the Peter Kahn Memorial Scholarship, Honky Tonk Sunday with the Deep Dive Barn Haulers at Deep Dive, and Modern Western Square Dancing at the Lansing Community Center. Monday, Joshua Hatcher and Greg Evans at the Downstairs. Tuesday, Dead Dive Happy Hour at Deep Dive, TC Tuesday at Atlas Bowl, and a Folk at the Farmhouse unplugged Beatles tribute at Grist Iron Brewing. Next Wednesday, an author visit with Amanda Jaros Champion at the Newfield Public Library, Jazz Night at Brookton's Market, Wednesday open mic night at the Nocturnal Cafe, formerly Sacred Root, and the Canaan Jam Session at the Canaan Institute.  Thursday, a Puzzle Contest at the Newfield [...]

Today on the podcast. 2 - Metal bin prank. 5 - Downstairs telling off has a horror revelation. 10 - Wild Grandmother story. 13.25 - Crematorium late mail. 16 - Community radio in a NZ town. 23 - Travelling NZ. The Dirt: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKO4n5vwNA8 27 - No one else like me - NFR edition New NFR sunglasses - https://neufound.com/pages/notforradio Give us a follow if you haven't already ~ Jay and Dunc. Want to get in touch? Hit us up, here: https://linktr.ee/notforradio Become a Sniper Elite: https://plus.rova.nz/Support the show: https://plus.rova.nz/

Melvyn Bragg and guests discuss the architect Sir John Soane (1753 -1837), the son of a bricklayer. He rose up the ranks of his profession as an architect to see many of his designs realised to great acclaim, particularly the Bank of England and the Law Courts at Westminster Hall, although his work on both of those has been largely destroyed. He is now best known for his house in Lincoln's Inn Fields in London, which he remodelled and crammed with antiquities and artworks: he wanted visitors to experience the house as a dramatic grand tour of Europe in microcosm. He became professor of architecture at the Royal Academy, and in a series of influential lectures he set out his belief in the power of buildings to enlighten people about “the poetry of architecture”. Visitors to the museum and his other works can see his trademark architectural features such as his shallow dome, which went on to inspire Britain's red telephone boxes.With: Frances Sands, the Curator of Drawings and Books at Sir John Soane's MuseumFrank Salmon, Associate Professor of the History of Art at the University of Cambridge and Director of the Ax:son Johnson Centre for the Study of Classical ArchitectureAnd Gillian Darley, historian and author of Soane's biography.Producer: Eliane Glaser In Our time is a BBC Studios Audio production.Reading list:Barry Bergdoll, European Architecture 1750-1890 (Oxford University Press, 2000)Bruce Boucher, John Soane's Cabinet of Curiosities: Reflections on an Architect and His Collection (Yale University Press, 2024)Oliver Bradbury, Sir John Soane's Influence on Architecture from 1791: An Enduring Legacy (Routledge, 2015)Gillian Darley, John Soane: An Accidental Romantic (Yale University Press, 1999)Ptolemy Dean, Sir John Soane and the Country Estate (Ashgate, 1999)Ptolemy Dean, Sir John Soane and London (Lund Humphries, 2006)Helen Dorey, John Soane and J.M.W. Turner: Illuminating a Friendship (Sir John Soane's Museum, 2007)Tim Knox, Sir John Soane's Museum (Merrell, 2015)Brian Lukacher, Joseph Gandy: An Architectural Visionary in Georgian England (Thames and Hudson, 2006)Susan Palmer, At Home with the Soanes: Upstairs, Downstairs in 19th Century London (Pimpernel Press, 2015)Frances Sands, Architectural Drawings: Hidden Masterpieces at Sir John Soane's Museum (Batsford, 2021)Sir John Soane's Museum, A Complete Description (Sir John Soane's Museum, 2018)Mary Ann Stevens and Margaret Richardson (eds.), John Soane Architect: Master of Space and Light (Royal Academy Publications, 1999)John Summerson, Architecture in Britain 1530-1830 (9th edition, Yale University Press, 1993)A.A. Tait, Robert Adam: Drawings and Imagination (Cambridge University Press, 1993) John H. Taylor, Sir John Soane's Greatest Treasure: The Sarcophagus of Seti I (Pimpernel Press, 2017)David Watkin, Sir John Soane: Enlightenment Thought and the Royal Academy Lectures (Cambridge University Press, 1996)David Watkin, Sir John Soane: The Royal Academy Lectures (Cambridge University Press, 2000)John Wilton-Ely, Piranesi, Paestum & Soane (Prestel, 2013)

BE WARNED: It's LuAnna, and this podcast contains honest, upfront opinions, rants, bants and general explicit content. But you know you love it! It's time to get TOTALLY EXTRA. Extra chat, extra rants, extra bants, extra stories, nonsense and more.On this week's Totally Extra: Reasons to trim downstairs, a stinking vag ruining career paths, accidentally running someone, over & colour matching jizz, again. Remember, if you want to get in touch you can:Email us at luannathepodcast@gmail.com OR drop us a WhatsApp on 07745 266947Please review Global's Privacy Policy: https://global.com/legal/privacy-policy/

There are more updates from Joanne in Cape Town this week. They are as fantastic as you'd imagine. Meanwhile, back in the UK, Vogue might have some explaining to do to her kids. Plus, the Wandsworth Prison scandal, the Brad Pitt scam & where Vogue's uncanny impression of Sandra came from.If you'd like to get in touch, you can send an email to hello@MTGMpod.comPlease review Global's Privacy Policy: global.com/legal/privacy-policy/For merch, tour dates and more visit: www.mytherapistghostedme.comFor more information about Joanne's gigs, visit: www.joannemcnally.comThis episode contains explicit language and adult themes that may not be suitable for all listeners.

More of the craziest reviews, from all over the internet! We look at a Panda Express that doesn't seem to have a lot of options, but will definitely give you the eye roll that you've been looking for. More reviews from "America's filthiest hotel", including some less than classy lobby activities. A very personal item that may either completely solve your problems, or make them MUCH worse & much more!!Join comedians James Pietragallo and Jimmie Whisman as they explore the most opinionated part of the internet: The Reviews Section!Subscribe and we will see you every Monday with Your Stupid Opinions!!!Don't forget to rate & review!!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The heroes seize the opportunity to scour a vast underground cavern for resources and make a new friend with a strange hobby. *** Support us on Patreon! Patrons get access to weekly premium episodes, including behind-the-scenes insights into our game, spoiler-free specials featuring games-related chat, and tons more. Tabletop Gold is Lars Casteen, David Chernicoff, Zoe Chernicoff, R. Matt Humphreys, and Robin Lange. If you enjoy the show, please leave us a rating and review at the podcast service of your choice, and find our website at www.tabletopgold.com. The Roots of Ruin is a production of the Pathfinder Adventure Path Abomination Vaults for Pathfinder Second Edition. Licensed music by Nicolas Jeudy / Dark Fantasy Studio, Phat Phrog Studio, and GameDev Market. Original music by Lars Casteen. The Roots of Ruin is a Tabletop Gold production, produced under the Paizo Incorporated Fan Content policy.  The Roots of Ruin uses trademarks and/or copyrights owned by Paizo Inc., used under Paizo's Fan Content Policy (paizo.com/licenses/fancontent).  Paizo does not recognize, endorse, or sponsor this project in any way.  Original characters and content are the property of Tabletop Gold.  For more information about Paizo Inc. and Paizo products, visit paizo.com…

If you want to take ownership of your health, try AG1 and get a FREE 1-year supply of Vitamin D AND 5 Free AG1 Travel Packs with your first purchase. Go to www.drinkAG1.com/creepen  Today's first fantastic offering is ‘In the Land of Black  and White, by Stephan D. Harris, kindly shared with us via the Creepypasta website and narrated with express permission:  http://www.creepypasta.com/in-the-land-of-black-and-white/ Today's second tale is ''The Last One of the Family'' by Boe Whiskey, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all: https://www.reddit.com/r/DrCreepensVault/comments/7002zv/the_last_one_of_the_family Today's phenomenal third story is ''Knock Knock'' by Bree NicGarran: (submitted via email) Today's phenomenal penultimate story is 'Mr. Salesman' by Miss Lau, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all:  https://www.reddit.com/r/DrCreepensVault/comments/76o4u9/mr_salesman/ ‘What to Do with the Voices in your Head' by aLooLoo, again kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all:  https://www.reddit.com/r/DrCreepensVault/comments/6hy9l5/what_to_do_with_the_voices_in_your_head/ Today's final fantastic offering is a collection of short stories shared with me on my subreddit: ‘Someone's Downstairs' by Sammmy134:  https://www.reddit.com/r/DrCreepensVault/comments/6hb7h5/someones_downstairs_fiction_someones_downstairs/ ‘Signs and Wonders' by BensTerribleFate:  https://www.reddit.com/r/libraryofshadows/comments/6iviad/signs_and_wonders_death_contest ‘Laughing in the Dark' by Sammmy134:  https://www.reddit.com/r/DrCreepensVault/comments/6hfwax/laughing_in_the_dark_fiction ‘Hunted' by Boewhishey:  https://www.reddit.com/r/DrCreepensVault/comments/6gh5l5/hunted_fiction ‘The Charity' by MidnightTalesUntold:  https://www.reddit.com/r/libraryofshadows/comments/6j3ki4/the_charity

For the latest Whisper in the Wings from Stage Whisper, we welcomed on the creator/director/performer Paul Budraitis to talk about his new work, I Love That For You. This heartfelt and powerful show made for great conversation, and one that you won't want to miss. So make sure you tune in and turn up for this great production!La MaMa Presents I Love That For YouDecember 12th-22nd @ The Downstairs at La MaMa Tickets and more information are available at lama.orgAnd be sure to follow our guests to stay up to date on all their upcoming projects and productions:@paulbudraitispaulbudraitis.com

Josh Mankiewicz catches up with Andrea Canning about her episode, “The Room Downstairs.”  In March 2011, a suburban New Jersey home was suddenly engulfed in flames. When firefighters entered the basement, they found 59-year-old Robert Cantor dead on a bed.  An autopsy revealed that he'd been fatally shot before the fire was set. Andrea and Josh talk about the love triangle that pointed investigators to their prime suspect and the circumstantial case that resulted in his conviction – twice. Plus, Andrea shares two podcast-exclusive interview clips, one from the victim's best friend and the other from his killer.See the sweater Tung wore during his interview: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/ijdpFw5AMm4?feature=share   Listen to the full episode of "The Room Downstairs" here: https://link.chtbl.com/dl_theroomdownstairs

Andrea Canning reports on the latest twists and turns in the case in which firefighters discovered a New Jersey man dead in a house fire, but an autopsy revealed he had been shot to death.

A Puritan Minister's Marriage Succumbs to Natural Sexuality.By RomanCEisdead2. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The next day, Elizabeth's mind was in turmoil. Her actions of the night before were bad enough, but the feelings and thrill she gained from those actions had to be sinful. She felt as though she had acted like the Devil's Whore.The Pastor's libido was satisfied for the next few days after such a strenuous evening. However, once that time passed, he found himself once more becoming aroused by Charity during their evening lessons. He retired to bed, determined to gain release with his wife. However, her behavior was muted and without speaking her actions insisted that their intimacy return to their normal form.Whilst the Pastor was initially sated, subsequent evenings (although resulting in orgasm), left him feeling disappointed that his wife would not participate more freely.While Elizabeth had become cool and unresponsive to her husband's advances, she could understand that his desires were kindled by Charity. She was a sweet young woman. Hard working, diligent, obedient, Godly. She was all these things and more; her face had a natural beauty and when she walked it was with a lithesome grace. The Pastor's wife found herself wishing she had looked like her at the age of 18, but this was not jealousy so much as admiration. She quickly became fond of the girl and while she was a servant, she accepted her as more of a companion.It was during a warmer early Summer month that Elizabeth suggested a bath. Not their usual weekly wash, but bathing in the nearby river. She knew of a little used path that led to a deep, yet relatively still pool which had been created during heavy rains. It was remote, away from regular paths and therefore away from prying eyes. They arranged to go there on the next occasion that the Pastor was away for the day on parish business.It was mid-morning, after the necessary chores had been completed that the two women set off. Charity had never been far from her Father's home and had been even less distance since joining the Pastor and his wife. So, this felt quite an adventure for the young woman. The journey was only about half an hour, but in that time, they had crossed several fields and gone through two areas of woodland. When they arrived at the river it came as a surprise; one moment they were walking through dappled woodland and then suddenly there was a river with trees on the other side. They moved along the bank a short distance and found the pool. It was calm and the bank leading down to it was a shallow slope.In a happy mood, both women took off their shoes and stripped down to their shifts. But before they entered the water, Elizabeth reached into a small bag she had brought with her."I have a gift for you Charity," she said."For me?""Yes." She took her hand out of the bag and held out the gift to Charity."What is it Mistress?""Soap. Not the kind for washing clothes, but the type used for gentlewomen to bathe with."Charity's mouth formed a perfect O at the wonder that some people had such things and that furthermore she was being presented with it."Come, let us enter the water."Elizabeth invited Charity to step down first. She then took Elizabeth's hand and helped her down into the cool water. They took their time getting into the deepest point, getting used to the temperature. The river pool came up to around their waist, soaking the lower part of their shifts.Now that they were in the water, Elizabeth realized she hadn't thought about how each of the women would bathe, but as Charity dipped down, soaking the remainder of her shift, she heard herself say, "Perhaps you had better remove you shift and turn around, then I can soap your back.Charity paused, wondering if she had heard correctly, but her mistress was obviously waiting, so she reached down and raised it up over her head. Elizabeth held back a gasp when the young woman's breasts came into view. All too quickly she had turned around, so the soaping began.After doing Charity's neck, shoulders, back and hips, the young woman dipped down into the water to wash the suds away. Elizabeth bade her to turn around and with a deep breath began to soap her upper chest, moving down slowly onto her breasts.Charity just stood and watched as her mistress's hands moved downwards and contacted her nipples, made stiff by the cool waters. She shivered, but not from the cold. Eventually the hands moved further down and eventually reached her quivering stomach, where she stopped.After another cleansing dip, Charity spoke, "Perhaps it is my turn to soap you mistress?"Elizabeth's shift joined Charity's on the riverbank, and she turned her back for the girl to bathe it.Charity worked swiftly, soaping Elizabeth's neck and shoulders. She marveled at the older woman's strong musculature, gained from many years of hard work. Slightly taller in stature, the cleft of her buttocks was visible above the line of the water. The soap-smothered hands went all the way down to that line and Elizabeth wondered if she dared to turn around. The hand pulling at her shoulder told her it was time to do so. She could not resist and turned, lifting her head high, proud to display her breasts for washing.Charity took longer to bathe Elizabeth's breasts, they were larger than hers and each woman was enjoying the sensations too much. But it had to come to an end, and she squatted down in the water to rinse her body.Elizabeth had not thought about the next step, as she and Charity stood looking at each other in the waist deep water. Nobody but her husband had ever seen her naked. And that only recently, by dim candlelight. But this was another woman, so their nakedness could not be sinful, could it?She took Charity by the hand and led her to the shallows, where it was only ankle deep. She looked with admiration at the youthful body and bade her turn around. Kneeling, she began to soap the slender legs, gradually moving higher. When she reached her buttocks, she deliberately kneaded them, then slipped her hand down the cleft. She heard Charity let out a small gasp as the digits came close to touching her nether lips.Charity turned around to face her Mistress. Whose attention was taken by the dark brown bush of pubic hair in front of her face. As she began the washing process, with both hands around one ankle, the girl slid her feet further apart. Elizabeth soaped first to one knee, then to the other. Moving up the left thigh, she avoided the girl's pussy and soaped over the hip. She repeated this process on the right-hand side.As the woman worked, Charity felt her heavier than usual breath stirring the curls around her maidenhead. She widened her stance, hoping, nay inviting her Mistress to soap her there.Elizabeth's mouth was dry. She had never seen a naked woman, nor a pussy this close. She used her fingers to soap gently and thoroughly every inch and crevice. Charity almost fainted from her attentions.When Charity took her turn to bathe her Mistress, she spent longer at the task and by the time the fingers were delving their way between her labia Elizabeth's legs were shaking, She collapsed down into a kneeling position, legs spread and grabbed Charity's wrist, keeping her hand there."Don't stop Charity. I need to be clean there. I need to be washed and washed again. You must remove the evil from me."Charity did not understand what she meant, but her insistence that she continue was clear. She moved her fingers, the soap long since dropped, touching, feeling the skin and hair, exploring the lips and the stiffened spot that seemed to bring forth groans from Elizabeth.She was shocked when Elizabeth reached an orgasm. Frightened even. Was her Mistress possessed? What was happening to her? She bravely fought the urge to stand up and run away.Elizabeth opened her eyes and saw the concern on Charity's face. She smiled wanly and reassured her, "It's all right child. The evil is out of me now. Thank you."Understanding that her Mistress was indeed recovered, she now wondered about the feelings that she herself had experienced earlier. Wash she too harboring evil?"Mistress, I am frightened! Perhaps I too have need of such cleansing?"Elizabeth smiled, "I doubt that child. You are too pure to be concerned about evil touching you.""But, perhaps that is why I am in need. Would not the Devil choose someone above suspicion as a host?" She spread her legs, looking down for any visible signs that evil resided therein.To Elizabeth, this sudden unbidden display of Charity's womanly parts was fascinating. They appeared much the same as hers, yet as she remained a virgin, quite different. Before she even knew that she was doing it, her hand was there, fingers touching the warm flesh. Watching carefully as they traced the outline of the girl's sex, noting that the moisture was growing rapidly, the lips having turned puffy. She felt the urge to enter her with a finger, but knew this would be wrong, damaging to her virginity. Instead, she concentrated on rubbing the lips and that little sensitive bud that she found did so much.Charity fainted as her first ever orgasm hit her. Elizabeth had to cradle her head until she came around.The two women did not discuss their bathing trip. Nor did Elizabeth inform her husband. They were back at the house well before he arrived home, and the evening meal was awaiting his return.That evening, Charity's lesson with the Pastor was a little strange. He could tell something was troubling her, but he did not want to press her to talk until she was ready. Instead, he read her passages from the bible and asked her to explain, in her own words, what she thought they meant. Gradually, she relaxed, her mind occupied by the questions she was attempting to answer."You seem troubled, child. What concerns you?" He eventually asked her."Ah, Umm, it's, well, it's," she paused, unsure of how to explain her fears. But then she plunged on, hoping that the Pastor would be able to help, "Do you think that I could be possessed by the devil?"The pastor was taken aback by the question, but recovered quickly, "I, think that is very unlikely. You are a good girl. Pure and chaste. What makes you think otherwise?""Well, is it not true that the Devil can make people do things that are wrong?""It is true, yes.""Is it possible that He can fool a person into thinking that something that is wrong is, in fact, right and proper?""Well, that is possible I suppose, yes. But why would that relate to you? Surely you cannot have done anything that could be misinterpreted?""It is my thoughts and feelings that I am afraid are wrong.""Can you give me an example child?""Well, when the young men call out to me, it makes me feel, strange. I, welcome their attention and, sometimes wish they went further. It makes me feel pleasant"The Pastor coughed gently but did not speak.She tried to explain, "I know that marriage between a man and a woman is where all good people should hope to arrive, in order that their union may bring forth more members for the church congregation. I, wonder when I will meet a man who will take me for his wife. This wondering brings forth certain, feelings within me. I, I have never been told how children come about, but I believe it isn't simply by prayer? Which means, that something else must happen. I find myself wondering about what that could be, and I start to think about those young men. I wonder about asking them, perhaps that can enlighten me?"Pastor Smith was aware that this intelligent young woman was becoming dangerously interested in men. She clearly had not been told about the mechanics of sexual union between a man and his wife, but he was sure that her observations of the farm animals that she must see regularly would eventually provide her with answers. She will then know, or at least guess, what happens in the bedroom."I'm sure that they could enlighten you. But not necessarily in a way that I would approve of. I do not wish to embarrass you, but your beauty and grace are extremely attractive to young men and it is bound to rouse their passions. Such passions within marriage are acceptable. But outside marriage," he left the sentence unfinished.Unfinished, not for effect, but because of the certain dark thoughts that were crowding in on him. She was there, within feet of him across the table wearing that thin shift. Her nipples were poking through, her breasts heaved as she breathed deeply and explained her feelings. And, as she licked her lips, moistening the pretty pink orifice, his erection became painful."I think that we should pray for your strength to resist talking to these young men, and to conquer these feelings that you mention."She rose from the table and walked around to the fireplace, where the wooden cross hung. She knelt and, for the first time during their lessons, the Pastor joined her, kneeling slightly behind and to the left, so that she would not see his tumescent state. Too late, he realized that he could smell her scent. If he were to reach out, he would be able touch her, to caress her body through the thin cotton of her shift.He cleared his throat, "Hmm. Perhaps it would benefit if you were to prostrate yourself, my child."What devil possessed him to say that?So, Charity bent forward, placed her weight on her hands and then stretched her legs backwards, allowing her to lay down flat. Her shift rose up her legs as she moved and revealed her calves and the backs of her knees. The Pastor's right hand, sitting upon his own knee was only inches from her posterior. He just caught himself before it wandered there. He looked away from her bottom and saw the uncovered legs. His feelings of arousal were so strong that he was becoming light-headed. He re-directed his attention upwards, attempting to regain control, but then saw that the garment had slipped from one shoulder when she had lain down. The creamy, smooth flesh of her young body captivated him.Charity was panting heavily. She could not understand why, but as her body moved up and down with each breath, her breasts and nipples were sliding across the cotton. She was not praying; she was having those bad thoughts again.Pastor Smith persuaded himself that it would be acceptable to place a hand on Charity's shoulder as a comforting gesture. He spoke as he did so, "You must relax, child. Free your mind so that you may receive forgiveness."As the Pastor's hand rested on the bare skin of her shoulder, Charity shuddered. The hand was warm, yet rough from the hard years of his life. When he did not take it away, she began to feel a tingling sensation in her breasts, and, elsewhere. Her back arched a little as she involuntarily pressed her pubic region into the floor tile. Her knees parted and her arse raised a few inches before she pressed down again.The Pastor saw all of this and wondered at it. He wanted her. He wanted to enter her pure, virginal flesh, to ravage her.Almost crying with the pain of resisting temptation he spoke to her again, "Are you in pain my dear?""No!" she wailed. "I cannot control my body Pastor!""Then you must relax." He placed his hand on the back of her head and this seemed to have a calming effect. The movements ceased.Then, to be sure that she was starting to relax, he put his hand back on her shoulder. At first, she tensed, but then he felt the muscles soften and he heard her sigh. So, he stroked her gently and saw that her breathing was calming. Encouraged by this he placed his other hand on the opposite shoulder and repeated the same movements. Somehow, his hands accidentally moved the material aside so that now her upper back was uncovered. The tie string must have become undone, for as his hands moved rhythmically and gently across and down the silky skin, the neckline of the garment moved lower until her shoulder blades were exposed.Pastor Smith knew that what he was doing was wrong, but he could not help himself; in one movement he swung his leg across Charity's body and knelt astride her. He remained kneeling upright, with his hard cock thrusting out the front of his breeches only inches from the young woman. He moved the shift lower still as he caressed her.Although the garment was now lowered to the middle of her back, Charity's breasts were keeping the material at the front firmly in place, but by now the Pastor could see the sides of them, the swellings flattened out upon the floor. He knew that the shift would not move any further as the sleeves were now holding it tight and he felt a slight sense of relief. But then, as he continued his motions on the exposed flesh, his arm made contact with his manhood. Without thinking, leaving one hand on Charity, the other wrapped itself around the breeches covered shaft.Any pretense that he was helping Charity was, at this point, destroyed. He was now in a land of sin and wickedness from which there was no escape. Her innocence was allowing him to take control of her body and he wanted to see and feel more.Attempting to be firm and commanding, yet sounding as though he was coking, she said, "Your arms look tense. Take them out of the sleeves and I will ease them for you."Charity complied immediately, careful not to expose breasts and shock the Pastor with their nudity.Pastor Smith returned his hands to her shoulders and moved them outwards along the outstretched arms. He had to lean forward to do this and, for the first time, his sheathed cock rubbed against Charity's back.The young woman was aware that the Pastor had straddled her, presumably to make it easier for him to, stroke her? She felt a momentary hardness digging into her spine, which returned every now and again as he caressed her arms.The Pastor's hands returned to the lower parts of Charity's back and she felt him shuffle backwards as he moved lower. Then she felt the insistent tugging of the shift on her breasts. It, it was sliding out from beneath them! The cold of the floor made her gasp and her hips bucked in response. A response which brought her buttocks into full contact with that hardness that she had felt before. Shortly after her hips dropped back down, that hardness regained contact and remain pressed there.It was all the Pastor could do not to hump against the deliciously soft and curvy rump that his manhood was now resting against. Indeed, he pressed a little harder as he brought his hands further down her body, dragging the material with them. Now, with the material clear of her breasts, he could slide his hands up her sides, fingertips feeling the softer flesh. Charity moaned.Pastor Smith was in a quandary; looking down he could see the hint of Charity's buttock cleavage. He wanted to feel the flesh there now, but it would mean that he had to give up the delightful feeling of his cock resting there. Her deep moan made up his mind and he shuffled down her legs. He made no attempt to disguise his actions as he tugged the material clear of her arse, which to him looked perfect. Perfect for mauling. Which he did with a zeal. He

A Puritan Minister's Marriage Succumbs to Natural Sexuality.By RomanCEisdead2. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The next day, Elizabeth's mind was in turmoil. Her actions of the night before were bad enough, but the feelings and thrill she gained from those actions had to be sinful. She felt as though she had acted like the Devil's Whore.The Pastor's libido was satisfied for the next few days after such a strenuous evening. However, once that time passed, he found himself once more becoming aroused by Charity during their evening lessons. He retired to bed, determined to gain release with his wife. However, her behavior was muted and without speaking her actions insisted that their intimacy return to their normal form.Whilst the Pastor was initially sated, subsequent evenings (although resulting in orgasm), left him feeling disappointed that his wife would not participate more freely.While Elizabeth had become cool and unresponsive to her husband's advances, she could understand that his desires were kindled by Charity. She was a sweet young woman. Hard working, diligent, obedient, Godly. She was all these things and more; her face had a natural beauty and when she walked it was with a lithesome grace. The Pastor's wife found herself wishing she had looked like her at the age of 18, but this was not jealousy so much as admiration. She quickly became fond of the girl and while she was a servant, she accepted her as more of a companion.It was during a warmer early Summer month that Elizabeth suggested a bath. Not their usual weekly wash, but bathing in the nearby river. She knew of a little used path that led to a deep, yet relatively still pool which had been created during heavy rains. It was remote, away from regular paths and therefore away from prying eyes. They arranged to go there on the next occasion that the Pastor was away for the day on parish business.It was mid-morning, after the necessary chores had been completed that the two women set off. Charity had never been far from her Father's home and had been even less distance since joining the Pastor and his wife. So, this felt quite an adventure for the young woman. The journey was only about half an hour, but in that time, they had crossed several fields and gone through two areas of woodland. When they arrived at the river it came as a surprise; one moment they were walking through dappled woodland and then suddenly there was a river with trees on the other side. They moved along the bank a short distance and found the pool. It was calm and the bank leading down to it was a shallow slope.In a happy mood, both women took off their shoes and stripped down to their shifts. But before they entered the water, Elizabeth reached into a small bag she had brought with her."I have a gift for you Charity," she said."For me?""Yes." She took her hand out of the bag and held out the gift to Charity."What is it Mistress?""Soap. Not the kind for washing clothes, but the type used for gentlewomen to bathe with."Charity's mouth formed a perfect O at the wonder that some people had such things and that furthermore she was being presented with it."Come, let us enter the water."Elizabeth invited Charity to step down first. She then took Elizabeth's hand and helped her down into the cool water. They took their time getting into the deepest point, getting used to the temperature. The river pool came up to around their waist, soaking the lower part of their shifts.Now that they were in the water, Elizabeth realized she hadn't thought about how each of the women would bathe, but as Charity dipped down, soaking the remainder of her shift, she heard herself say, "Perhaps you had better remove you shift and turn around, then I can soap your back.Charity paused, wondering if she had heard correctly, but her mistress was obviously waiting, so she reached down and raised it up over her head. Elizabeth held back a gasp when the young woman's breasts came into view. All too quickly she had turned around, so the soaping began.After doing Charity's neck, shoulders, back and hips, the young woman dipped down into the water to wash the suds away. Elizabeth bade her to turn around and with a deep breath began to soap her upper chest, moving down slowly onto her breasts.Charity just stood and watched as her mistress's hands moved downwards and contacted her nipples, made stiff by the cool waters. She shivered, but not from the cold. Eventually the hands moved further down and eventually reached her quivering stomach, where she stopped.After another cleansing dip, Charity spoke, "Perhaps it is my turn to soap you mistress?"Elizabeth's shift joined Charity's on the riverbank, and she turned her back for the girl to bathe it.Charity worked swiftly, soaping Elizabeth's neck and shoulders. She marveled at the older woman's strong musculature, gained from many years of hard work. Slightly taller in stature, the cleft of her buttocks was visible above the line of the water. The soap-smothered hands went all the way down to that line and Elizabeth wondered if she dared to turn around. The hand pulling at her shoulder told her it was time to do so. She could not resist and turned, lifting her head high, proud to display her breasts for washing.Charity took longer to bathe Elizabeth's breasts, they were larger than hers and each woman was enjoying the sensations too much. But it had to come to an end, and she squatted down in the water to rinse her body.Elizabeth had not thought about the next step, as she and Charity stood looking at each other in the waist deep water. Nobody but her husband had ever seen her naked. And that only recently, by dim candlelight. But this was another woman, so their nakedness could not be sinful, could it?She took Charity by the hand and led her to the shallows, where it was only ankle deep. She looked with admiration at the youthful body and bade her turn around. Kneeling, she began to soap the slender legs, gradually moving higher. When she reached her buttocks, she deliberately kneaded them, then slipped her hand down the cleft. She heard Charity let out a small gasp as the digits came close to touching her nether lips.Charity turned around to face her Mistress. Whose attention was taken by the dark brown bush of pubic hair in front of her face. As she began the washing process, with both hands around one ankle, the girl slid her feet further apart. Elizabeth soaped first to one knee, then to the other. Moving up the left thigh, she avoided the girl's pussy and soaped over the hip. She repeated this process on the right-hand side.As the woman worked, Charity felt her heavier than usual breath stirring the curls around her maidenhead. She widened her stance, hoping, nay inviting her Mistress to soap her there.Elizabeth's mouth was dry. She had never seen a naked woman, nor a pussy this close. She used her fingers to soap gently and thoroughly every inch and crevice. Charity almost fainted from her attentions.When Charity took her turn to bathe her Mistress, she spent longer at the task and by the time the fingers were delving their way between her labia Elizabeth's legs were shaking, She collapsed down into a kneeling position, legs spread and grabbed Charity's wrist, keeping her hand there."Don't stop Charity. I need to be clean there. I need to be washed and washed again. You must remove the evil from me."Charity did not understand what she meant, but her insistence that she continue was clear. She moved her fingers, the soap long since dropped, touching, feeling the skin and hair, exploring the lips and the stiffened spot that seemed to bring forth groans from Elizabeth.She was shocked when Elizabeth reached an orgasm. Frightened even. Was her Mistress possessed? What was happening to her? She bravely fought the urge to stand up and run away.Elizabeth opened her eyes and saw the concern on Charity's face. She smiled wanly and reassured her, "It's all right child. The evil is out of me now. Thank you."Understanding that her Mistress was indeed recovered, she now wondered about the feelings that she herself had experienced earlier. Wash she too harboring evil?"Mistress, I am frightened! Perhaps I too have need of such cleansing?"Elizabeth smiled, "I doubt that child. You are too pure to be concerned about evil touching you.""But, perhaps that is why I am in need. Would not the Devil choose someone above suspicion as a host?" She spread her legs, looking down for any visible signs that evil resided therein.To Elizabeth, this sudden unbidden display of Charity's womanly parts was fascinating. They appeared much the same as hers, yet as she remained a virgin, quite different. Before she even knew that she was doing it, her hand was there, fingers touching the warm flesh. Watching carefully as they traced the outline of the girl's sex, noting that the moisture was growing rapidly, the lips having turned puffy. She felt the urge to enter her with a finger, but knew this would be wrong, damaging to her virginity. Instead, she concentrated on rubbing the lips and that little sensitive bud that she found did so much.Charity fainted as her first ever orgasm hit her. Elizabeth had to cradle her head until she came around.The two women did not discuss their bathing trip. Nor did Elizabeth inform her husband. They were back at the house well before he arrived home, and the evening meal was awaiting his return.That evening, Charity's lesson with the Pastor was a little strange. He could tell something was troubling her, but he did not want to press her to talk until she was ready. Instead, he read her passages from the bible and asked her to explain, in her own words, what she thought they meant. Gradually, she relaxed, her mind occupied by the questions she was attempting to answer."You seem troubled, child. What concerns you?" He eventually asked her."Ah, Umm, it's, well, it's," she paused, unsure of how to explain her fears. But then she plunged on, hoping that the Pastor would be able to help, "Do you think that I could be possessed by the devil?"The pastor was taken aback by the question, but recovered quickly, "I, think that is very unlikely. You are a good girl. Pure and chaste. What makes you think otherwise?""Well, is it not true that the Devil can make people do things that are wrong?""It is true, yes.""Is it possible that He can fool a person into thinking that something that is wrong is, in fact, right and proper?""Well, that is possible I suppose, yes. But why would that relate to you? Surely you cannot have done anything that could be misinterpreted?""It is my thoughts and feelings that I am afraid are wrong.""Can you give me an example child?""Well, when the young men call out to me, it makes me feel, strange. I, welcome their attention and, sometimes wish they went further. It makes me feel pleasant"The Pastor coughed gently but did not speak.She tried to explain, "I know that marriage between a man and a woman is where all good people should hope to arrive, in order that their union may bring forth more members for the church congregation. I, wonder when I will meet a man who will take me for his wife. This wondering brings forth certain, feelings within me. I, I have never been told how children come about, but I believe it isn't simply by prayer? Which means, that something else must happen. I find myself wondering about what that could be, and I start to think about those young men. I wonder about asking them, perhaps that can enlighten me?"Pastor Smith was aware that this intelligent young woman was becoming dangerously interested in men. She clearly had not been told about the mechanics of sexual union between a man and his wife, but he was sure that her observations of the farm animals that she must see regularly would eventually provide her with answers. She will then know, or at least guess, what happens in the bedroom."I'm sure that they could enlighten you. But not necessarily in a way that I would approve of. I do not wish to embarrass you, but your beauty and grace are extremely attractive to young men and it is bound to rouse their passions. Such passions within marriage are acceptable. But outside marriage," he left the sentence unfinished.Unfinished, not for effect, but because of the certain dark thoughts that were crowding in on him. She was there, within feet of him across the table wearing that thin shift. Her nipples were poking through, her breasts heaved as she breathed deeply and explained her feelings. And, as she licked her lips, moistening the pretty pink orifice, his erection became painful."I think that we should pray for your strength to resist talking to these young men, and to conquer these feelings that you mention."She rose from the table and walked around to the fireplace, where the wooden cross hung. She knelt and, for the first time during their lessons, the Pastor joined her, kneeling slightly behind and to the left, so that she would not see his tumescent state. Too late, he realized that he could smell her scent. If he were to reach out, he would be able touch her, to caress her body through the thin cotton of her shift.He cleared his throat, "Hmm. Perhaps it would benefit if you were to prostrate yourself, my child."What devil possessed him to say that?So, Charity bent forward, placed her weight on her hands and then stretched her legs backwards, allowing her to lay down flat. Her shift rose up her legs as she moved and revealed her calves and the backs of her knees. The Pastor's right hand, sitting upon his own knee was only inches from her posterior. He just caught himself before it wandered there. He looked away from her bottom and saw the uncovered legs. His feelings of arousal were so strong that he was becoming light-headed. He re-directed his attention upwards, attempting to regain control, but then saw that the garment had slipped from one shoulder when she had lain down. The creamy, smooth flesh of her young body captivated him.Charity was panting heavily. She could not understand why, but as her body moved up and down with each breath, her breasts and nipples were sliding across the cotton. She was not praying; she was having those bad thoughts again.Pastor Smith persuaded himself that it would be acceptable to place a hand on Charity's shoulder as a comforting gesture. He spoke as he did so, "You must relax, child. Free your mind so that you may receive forgiveness."As the Pastor's hand rested on the bare skin of her shoulder, Charity shuddered. The hand was warm, yet rough from the hard years of his life. When he did not take it away, she began to feel a tingling sensation in her breasts, and, elsewhere. Her back arched a little as she involuntarily pressed her pubic region into the floor tile. Her knees parted and her arse raised a few inches before she pressed down again.The Pastor saw all of this and wondered at it. He wanted her. He wanted to enter her pure, virginal flesh, to ravage her.Almost crying with the pain of resisting temptation he spoke to her again, "Are you in pain my dear?""No!" she wailed. "I cannot control my body Pastor!""Then you must relax." He placed his hand on the back of her head and this seemed to have a calming effect. The movements ceased.Then, to be sure that she was starting to relax, he put his hand back on her shoulder. At first, she tensed, but then he felt the muscles soften and he heard her sigh. So, he stroked her gently and saw that her breathing was calming. Encouraged by this he placed his other hand on the opposite shoulder and repeated the same movements. Somehow, his hands accidentally moved the material aside so that now her upper back was uncovered. The tie string must have become undone, for as his hands moved rhythmically and gently across and down the silky skin, the neckline of the garment moved lower until her shoulder blades were exposed.Pastor Smith knew that what he was doing was wrong, but he could not help himself; in one movement he swung his leg across Charity's body and knelt astride her. He remained kneeling upright, with his hard cock thrusting out the front of his breeches only inches from the young woman. He moved the shift lower still as he caressed her.Although the garment was now lowered to the middle of her back, Charity's breasts were keeping the material at the front firmly in place, but by now the Pastor could see the sides of them, the swellings flattened out upon the floor. He knew that the shift would not move any further as the sleeves were now holding it tight and he felt a slight sense of relief. But then, as he continued his motions on the exposed flesh, his arm made contact with his manhood. Without thinking, leaving one hand on Charity, the other wrapped itself around the breeches covered shaft.Any pretense that he was helping Charity was, at this point, destroyed. He was now in a land of sin and wickedness from which there was no escape. Her innocence was allowing him to take control of her body and he wanted to see and feel more.Attempting to be firm and commanding, yet sounding as though he was coking, she said, "Your arms look tense. Take them out of the sleeves and I will ease them for you."Charity complied immediately, careful not to expose breasts and shock the Pastor with their nudity.Pastor Smith returned his hands to her shoulders and moved them outwards along the outstretched arms. He had to lean forward to do this and, for the first time, his sheathed cock rubbed against Charity's back.The young woman was aware that the Pastor had straddled her, presumably to make it easier for him to, stroke her? She felt a momentary hardness digging into her spine, which returned every now and again as he caressed her arms.The Pastor's hands returned to the lower parts of Charity's back and she felt him shuffle backwards as he moved lower. Then she felt the insistent tugging of the shift on her breasts. It, it was sliding out from beneath them! The cold of the floor made her gasp and her hips bucked in response. A response which brought her buttocks into full contact with that hardness that she had felt before. Shortly after her hips dropped back down, that hardness regained contact and remain pressed there.It was all the Pastor could do not to hump against the deliciously soft and curvy rump that his manhood was now resting against. Indeed, he pressed a little harder as he brought his hands further down her body, dragging the material with them. Now, with the material clear of her breasts, he could slide his hands up her sides, fingertips feeling the softer flesh. Charity moaned.Pastor Smith was in a quandary; looking down he could see the hint of Charity's buttock cleavage. He wanted to feel the flesh there now, but it would mean that he had to give up the delightful feeling of his cock resting there. Her deep moan made up his mind and he shuffled down her legs. He made no attempt to disguise his actions as he tugged the material clear of her arse, which to him looked perfect. Perfect for mauling. Which he did

On the latest Whisper in the Wings from Stage Whisper, we are thrilled to welcome on the adaptor/director/performer Rafika Chawishe, to talk about her new work Agamemnon: The Circle of Blood.This was such a fascinating show to learn more about, and we are thrilled to be able to share it with you. So make sure you tune in and turn up for this great production!La Mama PresentsAgememnon: The Circle of Blood November 14th-24th @ Downstairs at La Mama Experimental Theatre ClubTickets and more information are available at lamama.orgAnd be sure to follow Rafika to stay up to date on all their upcoming projects and productions:@rafikachawisheofficial

We unexpectedly took the Summer off, so in case you need a reminder – this is the podcast where we ask the important questions… Is Nicolas Cage a legitimate acting… Continue reading "CAGEMATCH, Episode 15: The Man Downstairs w/ Special Guest “Clown Baby”"

We unexpectedly took the Summer off, so in case you need a reminder – this is the podcast where we ask the important questions… Is Nicolas Cage a legitimate acting… Continue reading "CAGEMATCH, Episode 15: The Man Downstairs w/ Special Guest “Clown Baby”"

We unexpectedly took the Summer off, so in case you need a reminder – this is the podcast where we ask the important questions… Is Nicolas Cage a legitimate acting… Continue reading "CAGEMATCH, Episode 15: The Man Downstairs w/ Special Guest “Clown Baby”"

We unexpectedly took the Summer off, so in case you need a reminder – this is the podcast where we ask the important questions… Is Nicolas Cage a legitimate acting… Continue reading "CAGEMATCH, Episode 15: The Man Downstairs w/ Special Guest “Clown Baby”"

We unexpectedly took the Summer off, so in case you need a reminder – this is the podcast where we ask the important questions… Is Nicolas Cage a legitimate acting… Continue reading "CAGEMATCH, Episode 15: The Man Downstairs w/ Special Guest “Clown Baby”"

We unexpectedly took the Summer off, so in case you need a reminder – this is the podcast where we ask the important questions… Is Nicolas Cage a legitimate acting… Continue reading "CAGEMATCH, Episode 15: The Man Downstairs w/ Special Guest “Clown Baby”"

The Downstairs Girl by Stacey LeeWhen Jo loses her job, unexpectedly, at the milliner's hat shop, she isn't sure what she will do next for employment. After all, she and Old Gin need her wages to help them keep them going. Luckily, they don't have to worry about where they live, since they have been squatting in the basement of a printing shop for all of Jo's life. The owners of the print shop have no idea that Jo and Old Gin have been there for years, but when she hears the owners might have to move, she worries that means the end of their free living space.  Jo gets an idea for how she can help the owners of the shop stay in business - by becoming an advice columnist for their paper! Recommended for grades 8 and up. 

The boys are heading back to the basement for part two of the story of Josef Fritzl and his daughter Elisabeth, whose nightmare had just begun when after four years of living as his prisoner-wife in the cellar beneath the Fritzl home, she gave birth to the first of seven children to be fathered by Josef - of which only 6 would make it out of the cellar alive. Subscribe to SiriusXM Podcasts+ on Apple Podcasts to listen to ad-free new episodes and get exclusive access to bonus content.

Not the worst day for us, but... eh. Hope your week is going better.

We play Think Fast, Vont wants to budge in line, and more!

Send us a Text Message.This episode of Funny In Theory is very busy, much like our two co-hosts, whose exploits are featured in this episode. This particular edition of the show is a windy road. We begin on the avenue of what happened in the lives of our two aforementioned co-hosts in the past week. We then traverse our way toward the boulevard of what will be in the coming days for the St. Paul Saints front office staff. We end talking about insurance! As always, thanks for listening to this episode of Funny In Theory, be sure to keep up with us on our social accounts (@funnnyintheory) for teasers and episode updates! 

Tuesday, July 4th, 1944. It's been twenty-nine days since the Allies first stormed the beaches of Normandy. They've continued to slowly push inland, but the battle for control of the Caen has raged onward. CBS is there with up-to-the-minute news. On Saturday July 1st, A counterattack by German Panzer Corps failed to dislodge the British Second Army around Caen. When OB West Gerd von Rundstedt phoned Berlin to report the failure, Chief of Staff Wilhelm Keitel asked, “what shall we do?” Rundstedt replied, “Make peace you fools!” He was fired the next day. Meanwhile the U.S. 133rd Infantry Regiment captured Cecina in Tuscany, Italy. They'd enter Siena on Monday the 3rd. At the same time Allies and Japanese forces began battling in New Guinea and The Battle of Imphal in India ended in Allied victory. On the morning of the Fourth, Minsk, the last big German stronghold on Soviet soil, finally fell. This kind of war created a need for fast news relays, so much so that for the first time, news was being recorded on the battlefront. On Independence Day 1944, needing to push further inland from Normandy, the task fell to the 79th and 90th Divisions as well as the 82nd Airborne, all of whom had to assault uphill and around a large marsh in the low ground, while twelve Nazi divisions lay in wait, including several Panzer units. The troops fought yard by yard, making slow but steady progress at a high cost. The 90th Division alone lost over 500 men that day. This same day, General Omar Bradley had artillery units in the US First Army open fire on the German lines precisely at noon. Some units fired red, white, and blue smoke shells at the Germans. The message was clear: The Americans were in Western Europe and they wouldn't be leaving until victory was achieved. ____________ The man you just heard was Norman Lewis Corwin. He was born on May 3rd, 1910 in Boston, Massachusetts. The third of four children, his mother Rose was a homemaker, and his father, Samuel, a printer. Norman graduated from Winthrop High School, but unlike his brothers, he did not attend college. Instead, he got a job at the Greenfield Reporter as a Cub newsman at seventeen. Corwin was later hired by the Springfield Republican where he worked as an editor. He became known for his column "Radiosyncracies." His first exposure to professional Radio broadcasting came with an opportunity to air an interview regarding one of the human interest stories he'd written. Station WBZA soon needed a newsreader and sought to have the position filled with someone from the local paper. Corwin got the job. By 1929 Corwin fashioned his own broadcast over WBZA, a combination of piano interludes interwoven with Corwin's original poetry readings. He called the program Rhymes and Cadences. In 1931, Corwin traveled to Europe with his older brother, witnessing the growing fascism, social and religious unrest, and political turmoil. It helped shape his broadcasting career. In June 1935, he went to Cincinnati to work at WLW. He soon learned that any on-air reportage of collective bargaining efforts were grounds for immediate dismissal. Objecting, he was fired. Eventually he got the ACLU's backing and got the policy changed. Corwin came to New York, finding work as a publicist for 20th Century-Fox. He soon proposed a poetry and music program for WQXR. The program was called Poetic License, and it wasn't long before both NBC and CBS took notice. A few days shy of his twenty-eighth birthday in 1938, CBS hired Corwin as a director for One-Hundred-Twenty-Five-Dollars per-week. Within a few months he directed his first Columbia Workshop experimental drama, “The Red Badge of Courage,” airing July 9th, 1938. On the night of Sunday October 30th, 1938, Corwin was rehearsing the pilot for a new program, Words Without Music. Downstairs, Orson Welles was broadcasting his infamous Mercury Theater “War of The Worlds.”

Tonight's guest, Dr. Erin Drinkwater, has had one Sasquatch sighting and several other experiences that might have been Sasquatch-related. Her sighting shook her up. There's no arguing that, but the experience that frightened her most happened one night, in her own home. That was the night she realized she and her daughter weren't the only ones in her house. She became aware of the unwelcome visitor due to it stomping around upstairs. When she heard it do what it did, up there, she prayed it wasn't going to come downstairs to kill her and her daughter.  If you'd like to check out my new Bigfoot show, called "My Bigfoot Sighting," you can listen using your favorite podcast app. Here's a link to the My Bigfoot Sighting Channel on Spotify...https://open.spotify.com/show/2gomYbQG2gM6gPFakCQYNL?si=M0dm3bDfR_ShTiJcHPWoyw&dl_branch=1If you've had a Sasquatch sighting and would like to be a guest on Bigfoot Eyewitness Radio, please go to https://www.BigfootEyewitness.com and submit a report.If you've had a Sasquatch sighting and would like to be a guest on My Bigfoot Sighting, please go to https://www.MyBigfootSighting.com and let me know.If you'd like to help support the show, by buying your own Bigfoot Eyewitness t-shirt or sweatshirt, please visit the Bigfoot Eyewitness Show Store, by going to https://Dogman-Encounters.MyShopify.comI produce 3 other podcasts that are available for listening on your favorite podcast app. If you haven't checked them out, already, here are links to them…  My Bigfoot Sighting https://www.spreaker.com/show/my-bigfoot-sighting  Dogman Encounters https://www.spreaker.com/show/dogman-encounters-radio_2  My Paranormal Experience https://www.spreaker.com/show/my-paranormal-experience  Thanks, as always, for listening!

It's 2024! New year! New resolutions! New attitudes! New sassy intros! New updates on classic Dateline episodes! New phone, who di.... you get the idea. Dateline is starting off 2024 with THE ROOM DOWNSTAIRS and Andrea Canning returning to New Jersey to update us on the tragic case of Rob Cantor, his French lover Sophie and the tri-state Tony who came between them. It's a case that has Kimberly and Katie itching to discuss in detail even if they get a little Tung tied in some poorly executed accents. So grab a hot dog and prepare to get a little hot under the fuzzy collar with A Date with Dateline: AKA THE BASEMENT! Official Description from NBCU: Andrea Canning reports on the latest twists and turns in the case in which firefighters discovered a New Jersey man dead in a house fire, but an autopsy revealed he had been shot to death. This episode is dedicated to Andrea L. and Meritt W! Instead of draping you in ugly sweaters, we would drape you in… our love and appreciation? Thank you so much for your support! Start of the year right with some amazing deals from our sponsors: Listening to The Newsworthy every day has made Kimberly's life so much better! It's a way to be informed without the doomscrolling! Plus fun stories! So- search “THE NEWSWORTHY” on whatever app you're listening on now --- or go to THE NEWSWORTHY DOT COM. Thank you Erica! Good food brings people together, as this episode proves. For easy, quick, affordable meals to bring your family together at dinner (and all other meals too!), go to HelloFresh.com/datelinefree and use code datelinefree for one FREE breakfast item per box while subscription is active! We've got the EASIEST resolution for you in 2024. BETTER LASHES. Just use Thrive mascara! Thrive Causemetics is luxury beauty that gives back. Right now, you can get an exclusive 20% off your first order at thrivecausemetics.com/DATEDATELINE Unlimited premium wireless for 15 bucks a month?! The only catch is catching this amazing deal! Go to https://www.mintmobile.com/datedateline and stop overpaying! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices