Podcasts about Duty

Ludwig Wittgenstein var omgiven av många av sin tids främsta tänkare, men en av de allra främsta är okänd för allmänheten Frank Ramsey. Helena Granström reflekterar över deras komplicerade vänskap. Lyssna på alla avsnitt i Sveriges Radio Play. ESSÄ: Detta är en text där skribenten reflekterar över ett ämne eller ett verk. Åsikter som uttrycks är skribentens egna. Ursprungligen sänd 2021-03-17.Det är i efterhand inte alltid så lätt att säga exakt hur eller när en vänskap tar sin början, men i det här fallet är det ingen tvekan: Den börjar med ett märkvärdigt och svårgenomträngligt bokmanuskript, författat mer eller mindre nerifrån en av första världskrigets skyttegravar. I denna skrift menar sig författaren, den då knappt trettioårige österrikaren Ludwig Wittgenstein, ge en fullständig redogörelse för relationen mellan språk och verklighet. Texten pekar också mot filosofins begränsningar, och etablerar en distinktion mellan det som kan uttryckas klart och det som enbart kan gestaltas eller visas: ”Om det man inte kan tala måste man tiga.”1921 publiceras det som senare ska bli ”Tractatus logico-philosophicus” för första gången i en tysk tidskrift, och när den ett år senare utkommer på engelska är det tack vare ansträngningarna av Frank Ramsey, en 18-årig universitetsstudent som redan vid denna ålder utmärkt sig i såväl tyska som matematik, logik och filosofi.Och det är alltså här som relationen mellan de båda männen kan sägas få sin inledning: i och med Ramseys översättning av denna närmast oöversättliga lilla traktat, för vilken bokens förläggare väljer att ta åt sig hela äran. Det uteblivna erkännandet tycks emellertid inte bekomma Ramsey. Vad han i första hand tar med sig från arbetet med Wittgensteins Tractatus är filosofiska impulser som han sedan ska komma att ta spjärn emot under hela återstoden av sitt alltför korta liv. Det är emellertid inte ett förhållande präglat av okritisk beundran från Ramseys sida; snarare är det fråga om ett ömsesidigt utbyte mellan de två. Mellan Tractatus briljante men kryptiske och djupt obstinate författare, och det lågmälda och godmodiga underbarnet, som före sin död i sjukdom vid 26 års ålder även hann lämna betydelsefulla bidrag inom logik, matematik och ekonomi.Men, till en början har relationen mellan det kärva österrikiska geniet och hans begåvade brittiske översättare ändå tveklösa drag av kärlekshistoria. När Ramsey i september 1923 för första gången besöker Wittgenstein i den lilla österrikiska bergsby där filosofen, som skänkt bort hela sin del av familjens enorma förmögenhet, tjänar sitt uppehälle som grundskollärare, har rapporterna hem en närmast nyförälskad ton. ”När han förklarar sin filosofi är han upphetsad och gör stela gester”, rapporterar Ramsey, ”men han förlöser spänningen med ett charmerande skratt. Han har blå ögon. … Han är fantastisk.” Vilket inte utesluter att deras gemensamma genomgång av Tractatus var krävande: ”Det är förfärligt när han frågar 'Är det klart?' och jag säger ”nej” och han säger 'För helskotta, det är helt vedervärdigt att behöva gå igenom allt det där igen'. … Han glömmer ofta bort innebörden av saker han skrivit fem minuter tidigare, och drar sig till minnes den igen först senare.”Det är en påfrestning i relationen som för Ramseys del bara kommer att växa sig starkare, så att han under ett besök året därpå i sina brev hem konstaterar att den stora filosofen inte är bra för hans arbete: ”Pekar man på en frågeställning vill han inte höra ens eget svar på den, utan börjar bara genast försöka komma på ett själv. Och det är så enormt hårt jobb för honom, som att knuffa någonting alldeles för tungt uppför ett berg. ”Ännu ett år senare inträder en kris i förhållandet mellan de båda, till stora delar föranledd av Wittgensteins oförsonliga attityd gentemot sin omgivning. När de sammanstrålar hemma hos ekonomen John Maynard Keynes, ett par veckor efter Keynes bröllop och några dagar före Ramseys eget, oroar sig Ramsey för hur han ska underhålla sin krävande vän, eftersom denne bara vill befatta sig med de mest seriösa diskussioner, men dessa å andra sidan tenderar att leda till så våldsamma meningsskiljaktigheter att de blir helt omöjliga. Det mest positiva Ramsey har att rapportera i sina brev är Wittgensteins vana att framföra komplexa operastycken med bara munnen till hjälp: ”Han visslar fantastiskt”.Att Wittgenstein efter mötet hemma hos Keynes plötsligt bryter kontakten med Ramsey har åtminstone delvis att göra med att deras meningar går isär angående psykoanalysens fader Sigmund Freud, som Wittgenstein menade var moraliskt förkastlig: ”Moraliskt sett är Freud ett svin eller något liknande, men det ligger mycket i vad han säger. Förresten är det samma sak med mig. Det ligger mycket i vad jag säger.”.Wittgenstein var, vilket Ramsey alltså fick erfara, en man med ett oerhört strängt moraliskt system som han lät omfatta såväl andra som sig själv; en man förmögen att producera aforismer av typen ”den som inte är beredd att göra sig själv illa kan inte tänka ordentligt”.Vilket möjligen kan läsas som ett avfärdande av den jämförelsevis sorglösa Ramsey; icke desto mindre hittar de två tillbaka till varandra när Wittgenstein efter upprepade övertalningsförsök återvänder till Cambridge 1929. Den förälskade spänningen mellan dem tycks intakt, liksom svårigheterna: Deras samtal är, skriver Wittgenstein, ”som något slags energikrävande sport och genomförs med gott humör. Det är något erotiskt och chevalereskt över dem.” Ramsey å sin sida rapporterar hur Wittgenstein driver honom till vansinne genom att komma in i arbetsrummet och inte säga någonting utom ”jag är så hopplös” – för att därefter starta ett uppslitande filosofiskt gräl, som inte sällan slutar med att båda männen faller i gråt.Ramsey kom allteftersom tiden gick att vända sig mot Tractatus filosofiska system i allt högre grad; han kritiserade Wittgenstein bland annat i frågan om språklig mening, matematiska utsagors innebörd, och sinneserfarenhetens plats i filosofins teoribyggen. Något som tycks ha provocerat Wittgenstein: efter Ramseys död i gulsot år 1930 skriver han att han fann dennes sinne frånstötande och fult, och att hans kritik inte var av den kreativa, stimulerande typen, utan den hämmande.Inte förrän långt senare, i sin skrift Filosofiska undersökningar, ska Wittgenstein vidgå sin yngre kollegas inflytande. Där skriver han att han kommit att inse de misstag han gjorde i Tractatus, och att denna insikt – ”i en utsträckning som [han] knappast själv kan bedöma” – stammar från den kritik som riktades mot dem av Frank Ramsey, som dryftade dem med honom i otaliga samtal under de två sista åren av sitt liv.Och kanske kan man säga att Ramsey därmed gavs erkännande för ett av vänskapens viktigaste element, nämligen integritet, som han förmådde uppvisa också i relation till ett arrogant geni som bestraffade i princip allt som inte var beundran från omgivningen med vrede och fördömanden. Ramsey förblev fast i sin vänskap, men också fast i sin intellektuella övertygelse – ett sätt att beskriva det är att han tog Wittgensteins egen filosofi och vände den emot honom genom att sträva efter att på en gång göra den mer mänsklig, och mer konsekvent. ”Det vi inte kan tala om kan vi faktiskt inte tala om”, påminde han sin vän och fortsatte ”och vi kan inte vissla det heller.”Helena Granströmförfattare med bakgrund inom fysik och matematikLitteraturCheryl Misak, "Frank Ramsey. A Sheer Excess of Powers" (Oxford University Press, 2020)F.P. Ramsey, "Critical Notice: Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus", Mind, vol 32, nr 128 (1923)Ludwig Wittgenstein, "Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus". Översättning av Sten Andersson (Norstedts, 2014)Ludwig Wittgenstein, "Filosofiska undersökningar". Översättning Anders Wedberg (Thales, 1992)Ray Monk, "Ludwig Wittgenstein. The Duty of Genius" (Vintage, 1991)

This week's episode seeks to consolidate previous discussions about intergenerational and inter-ideological solidarity in its examination of Sam Peckinpah's iconic 1969 revisionist Western, The Wild Bunch.We also briefly discuss:The Leopard (1963) d. Luchino ViscontiPredator: Badlands (2025) d. Dan TrachtenbergContact UsEmail: contact@jimmybernasconi.comInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/filmsfortoday/?hl=en

The US has lifted its 10% tariff on Australian beef, a move welcomed by the Australian meat industry. Managing director of the Meat and Livestock Australia, Michael Crowley, joined Luke Bradnam on 4BC Breakfast to warn that strong global demand and rising production costs mean domestic Australian consumers should not expect meat prices to drop anytime soon.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Find more from Nancy and others on Canon+: https://canonplus.com/tabs/none/pages/nancy-wilson

Join us at Patreon.com/dadmeatpodcast for part 2 of this episode. F*%k your khakis and get The Perfect Jean 15% off with the code FATBIRD15 at theperfectjean.nyc/FATBIRD15 Get 15% off Huel with this exclusive offer for new customers with code DADMEAT at https://www.huel.com/dadmeat  If you're 21 or older, get 40% OFF your first order + free shipping @IndaCloud with code FATBIRD at https://inda.shop/FATBIRD  #indacloudpod  For a limited time, our listeners get 60% off FOR LIFE AND 2 Free Gifts at Mars Men when you use FATBIRD at http://mengotomars.com/  See Tim do stand up live: https://linktr.ee/timbutterly  See Mike do stand up live: https://linktr.ee/MikeRainey82  Check out Tim's YouTube channel at youtube.com/@TimButterly for live streams and his killer new project, Field Trippin', which you can also support at https://www.patreon.com/c/timbutterly/posts Check out Mike's new interview podcast, Get In Some Head: https://www.youtube.com/@UCvPEUAhvoM3Kw3doNZQkyJg  Go to Patreon.com/lilstinkers for the best murder/Impractical Jokers-themed podcast out there Check Out more Mike Eaton: https://www.youtube.com/@mikeiseaton 

Here are the best bits from Bailey & Johnny for the morning of Friday November 14th 2025 Want to be in the next episode? Send us a voice memo on social media or on the iHeartRadio app! Follow us on Instagram: @baileyparker_ and @johnnynovak Listen live weekdays 530 -10 am PST on the iHeartRadio app and 1073virginradio.ca

James and Al celebrate the reopening of the government and applaud those willing to cross the line, while still criticizing the administration's failure to achieve a better outcome for the American people.  Then, Politics War Room welcomes Brigadier General Ty Seidule (Ret.) to discuss our military heroes, the renaming of our bases to reflect those loyal to our country rather than those who fought under the Confederacy, and how we can live up to our national values after the Trump era comes to an end.  They also skewer the tenure of Pete Hegseth, honor our veterans, and remember those who lost their lives in the course of their service. Email your questions to James and Al at politicswarroom@gmail.com or tweet them to @politicon.  Make sure to include your city– we love to hear where you're from! More from James and Al: Get text updates from Politics War Room and Politicon. Watch Politics War Room & James Carville Explains on YouTube @PoliticsWarRoomOfficial James Carville & Al Hunt have launched the Politics War Room Substack Get updates and some great behind-the-scenes content from the documentary CARVILLE: WINNING IS EVERYTHING, STUPID by following James on X @jamescarville and his new TikTok @realjamescarville Get More From This Week's Guest:  Brigadier General Ty Seidule (Ret.): Twitter | West Point | Website | Hamilton College | New America | Author Please Support Our Sponsors: Zbiotics: Go to https://zbiotics.com/PWR and use PWR at checkout for 15% off any first-time orders of ZBiotics probiotics. Miracle Made: Upgrade your sleep with Miracle Made! Go to TryMiracle.com/warroom and use the code WARROOM to claim your FREE 3-PIECE TOWEL SET and SAVE over 40% OFF.

Neal Brennan interviews Ari Melber ('The Beat' on MSNBC) about the things that make him feel lonely, isolated, and like something's wrong - and how he is persevering despite these blocks. Subscribe to the Ari Melber on Youtube:  @AriMelber  00:00 Intro 3:25 Speed Reading 9:40 Defending journalism's credibility 18:20 Truth vs. Fiction in News 22:10 Lawsuits & Freedom of Speech 36:10 Sponsor: BetterHelp 37:41 Sponsor: Ground News 39:21 Career Ambitions 57:22 Breaking Tragic News 1:06:14 Sponsor: Mando 1:08:22 Sponsor: Uncommon Goods 1:10:08 Duty & Obligation in Life & Work 1:13:45 Spirituality 1:16:35 Perfectionism & Time Efficiency 1:25:27 Being Present vs. Time Traveling ---------------------------------------------------------- Follow Neal Brennan: https://www.instagram.com/nealbrennan https://twitter.com/nealbrennan https://www.tiktok.com/@mrnealbrennan Watch Neal Brennan: Crazy Good on Netflix: https://www.netflix.com/title/81728557 Watch Neal Brennan: Blocks on Netflix: https://www.netflix.com/title/81036234 Theme music by Electric Guest (unreleased). Edited by Will Hagle ---------------------------------------------------------- Sponsors: https://www.betterhelp.com/NEAL for 10% off your first month https://www.ground.news/NEAL for 40% off the vantage plan https://www.shopmando.com promo code NEAL - new customers get 20% off sitewide httsp://www.uncommongoods.com/BLOCKS for 15% off your next gift Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode of Disruption/Interruption, host KJ interviews Mark Mincy, Chief Commercial Officer at US RX Care, about the hidden complexities and conflicts of interest in the pharmacy benefits industry. Mark shares how his company is disrupting the status quo by demanding transparency, eliminating conflicts, and helping employers reclaim millions in savings. The conversation uncovers the tangled web of PBMs, rebates, and the urgent need for legislative and technological change. Key Takeaways: The PBM System is Riddled with Conflicts of Interest [2:34]Mark explains how pharmacy benefit managers (PBMs) and consultants often act in their own financial interest, not the employer’s or patient’s, leading to inflated drug costs. Rebates and Purchasing Contributions Inflate Drug Prices [8:59]The system of rebates and retrospective payments to PBMs can account for up to 80% of a drug’s cost, forcing manufacturers to raise prices and employers to pay more. Transparency and Fiduciary Duty are Essential for Reform [21:37]Mark’s company, US RX Care, operates with complete transparency, passes back all rebates, and offers per-member-per-month guarantees to eliminate guesswork and conflicts. Employers and Consumers Can Take Action [33:34]Mark recommends joining healthcare purchaser coalitions, hiring ERISA attorneys, and demanding non-conflicted consultants to protect interests and drive industry change. Quote of the Show [31:27]:"Everything's intertwined. You want to move and do the right thing. These employers are between a rock and a hard place, so I do think some legislative action needs to occur." – Mark Mincy Join our Anti-PR newsletter where we’re keeping a watchful and clever eye on PR trends, PR fails, and interesting news in tech so you don't have to. You're welcome. Want PR that actually matters? Get 30 minutes of expert advice in a fast-paced, zero-nonsense session from Karla Jo Helms, a veteran Crisis PR and Anti-PR Strategist who knows how to tell your story in the best possible light and get the exposure you need to disrupt your industry. Click here to book your call: https://info.jotopr.com/free-anti-pr-eval Ways to connect with Mark Mincy: LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/in/mark-mincy-a185497 Company Website: https://us-rxcare.com How to get more Disruption/Interruption: Amazon Music - https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/eccda84d-4d5b-4c52-ba54-7fd8af3cbe87/disruption-interruption Apple Podcast - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/disruption-interruption/id1581985755 Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/show/6yGSwcSp8J354awJkCmJlDSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Bruce McIvor has written a new book that should become essential reading for Canadians who want to advance reconciliation. Indigenous Rights in One Minute gives clear and concise answers to questions like who qualifies as Métis and what the Doctrine of Discovery is. Bruce McIvor is the founder and senior partner at First Peoples Law and an adjunct professor at the University of British Columbia's Allard School of Law. He is a member of the Manitoba Métis Federation.

The Time Riders: Part 5 A Labyrinth Palace. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. The non-descript carriage had indeed made its way through Paris' winding streets, taking well over an hour to finally stop in front of the palace and allowing Mark to get out of the cramped cab before it rattled off. The sun had set some time ago, and night hung over the city heavily, the cloying air of Paris carrying the city's growing pains to his ears. Even at night, the city was not silent. Mark adjusted his outfit and marched toward the outermost gate of the vast palace, its arms spread wide and encompassing a massive courtyard. Two men wearing ornate red uniforms and holding pikes crossed their weapons at his approach, barring his entry. One of them gruffly asked him to state his business. Trusting to the plan, Mark said nothing, but merely held out one of his sealed letters, this one bearing the emblem of Richelieu. The guard examined it for several seconds, consulting with the other guard before handing it back and then opening the gate. Mark shot them both a dirty look for holding him up in his errand and then swept inside, doing his best to look haughty and full of bravado, which is what the Musketeers were apparently renowned for. He couldn't help but reflect that they seemed a lot less heroic than history let on and were more dickbags than anything else. Oh well. Faking being a dickbag was probably significantly easier than pretending to be a hero. He passed through another gate that got him closer to the palace, this one also manned by the Swiss Guard. He arrogantly presented them with the Richelieu missive, which once again satisfied their scrutiny and he was allowed to pass. He forced himself to not look around in wonder at his surroundings, instead heading straight to the great doors that would give him admittance to the palace. Alex once again presented his letter, but this time the guards squinted at him suspiciously. "Qui es tou?" demanded one of them. His throat was dry, but he answered as readily as he could, trying to sound authoritative and even haughty. "J'mappelle Benat de Ferres, of Soule, Second Company of the King's Musketeers under Monsieur de Treville. Let me through." "Fucking Basques and Gascons," muttered one of the guards in irritation. "Why would a musketeer be bringing a missive to his excellency, the Cardinal?" he demanded to know. Mark concealed his anxiety by looking pissed and rattling off one of the phrases Alexandra had given him, hoping it had the desired effect. "I have an idea, why don't we all go ask the Cardinal and you can fucking explain to him why you held up his envoy on an important errand? Does that sound good to you?" The two men looked at one another warily; the visitor was certainly obnoxious enough to be a Musketeer and a Gascon. Sighing and shaking his head in defeat, the one man handed the sealed letter back to Mark and they opened the doors, allowing him entrance. He swept by them, calling them shitheads in Spanish before the doors closed behind him. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help Gawking as he stared at the palace around him; its splendor was beyond anything he had imagined. Walls of white plaster, carved in exquisite shapes and edged in royal purple, along with gold filigree, and incredible paintings and artifacts lined the walls. Endless numbers of servants scurried by, hardly noticing him. He shut his eyes for a moment and composed himself, remembering the details Alexandra had shown him, the way through the palace. He turned and began his search for his teacher. Lisette walked primly through the halls of the palace, bowing her head deferentially to just about everyone who passed her. Wearing an elegant gown, she seemed to almost glide along the hallway, walking with a practiced ease that her mistress had taught her. She had, in three years, only been in the royal presence twice before, in attendance to Lady Alexandra. The king had barely noticed her, but Lisette didn't mind one bit, because this was far more of a life than she ever could have hoped for. She had, of course, spent much more time in the presence of the queen, because her mistress served Anne directly. Anne of Austria seemed mostly amused by Lady Alexandra's quirky servant, but she was kind to Lisette, often sending her home with gifts of chocolate. Her devotion to the queen, while not equal to her fanatic love for Lady Alexandra, meant she would die in Anne's name if necessary. She hoped it wouldn't come to that tonight, but she had made her peace with God and the Lady Mary all the same. Alexandra had set her with the task of removing or distracting every guard she could from the route Mark would take through the palace. She was not to kill anyone, nor was she to be seen in the mayhem, if at all possible. If things went wrong, she was to retreat to the queen's quarters and be seen protecting her. It was the best alibi she could hope for. A guard up ahead. He was a sullen-looking brute, not carrying the long pikes of the gate guards, but a much more practical halberd, along with a short rapier on his belt. She knew he'd be trouble. She ducked into an alcove and pulled a small phial out of her cleavage, drinking the strong red wine from it and sloshing it around in her mouth, to make sure the aroma was on her breath. Replacing the phial, she lurched back out into the hallway and sauntered toward him lazily. "Hello, beautiful," she said drunkenly, giving him a lopsided smile. "You must' be off-duty by now." "No, I am not," he grunted, not looking at her. "Go away, slut." "C'mon," Lisette persisted, leering at him as she leaned against the wall to his left. "We could be having fun. Don' you like fun?" "Duty is not meant to be fun." "But these are fun," she drawled, as she stepped in front of him and leaned forward, using her hands to pull down the front of her bodice and exposing her perky tits to the man, whose eyes went wide at the sight. "These are all the fun you'll need;” He didn't stop her as she sidled up to him, stood on her tip-toes and put her arms around his neck. Her breath was sweet with wine, her dark eyes glassy with the lack of inhibition it brought on. Her tits pressed to his chest, her hips flat to his crotch. "Take me into that room and fuck me;” she breathed huskily, her lips no more than an inch from his. "I want to feel you inside me;” The man was rather pale at her suggestion, but nodded readily and turned around to open the door. The parlor behind was empty, the perfect place for a rendezvous with this slattern. She took him by the hand and led him inside, closing the door behind them. Mark walked down the hallway, trying to not look like he was hurrying, and staying alert. He was entering a difficult part of the operation, because he was no longer in an area of the palace that led to either the king's quarters or those of Cardinal Richelieu. If anyone stopped him now, he would probably be redirected rather forcefully, and he had precious little time to waste. He walked by a door, from which he heard a moaning noise. Then he heard a familiar woman's voice, gasping and urging someone on. His translator bud wasn't close enough to hear what was being said, but he was fairly certain he knew what was happening. He subtly pushed the door open and peered inside. Mark gaped as he watched Lisette, leaning over a small table, panting while a member of the House Guard fucked her from behind, her layered skirt bunched over her ass as he pushed in and out of her. The guard remained oblivious, but she noticed the door open and flicked a glance his way. She gave him an annoyed look and jerked her head, indicating that she had this covered and he needed to keep moving. He nodded and pulled the door shut quietly before heading down the hall again. He turned a corner and then headed up some stairs, leading up to the next floor, which was apparently where Becky was being kept. He was so busy thinking about what he needed to do next that he blundered right into two guards, who grunted and then glared at him angrily. "Stupid shit!" the one man he had smacked into spat. "Watch where you are; who are you?" Mark went wide-eyed, not having expected them. His mouth seemed to work, but no sounds came forth. They blocked his ascent and continued to glare at him. "Who; are; you?" the man demanded again. Mark regained control of his voice and tried to speak. "My name is; my name is Benat;” Fuck, he'd forgotten his last name. "My name is Benat DeFlepard," he managed to say. "I am from Sully and I have' "What sort of name is DeFlepard?" snarled the one guard. "I have sealed orders," Mark interrupted, not liking where this was going. "From the Cardinal!" "Is that so?" sneered the man. "Let's see them!" Mark handed him the sealed missive scroll. The man examined it and frowned. "This is the king's seal," he growled. "What is the meaning of this?” Before the man could finish his query, Mark punched him in the face and then pulled his crème-colored tabard over his head and threw him down the stairs. The guard cursed loudly as he rolled at least two floors. Mark was too late to stop the other man from drawing his short rapier, but managed to grapple onto him, keeping himself from being run through. Mark might have been taller, but the guard was a veteran of many wars, strong and cunning. It wasn't long before he had Mark's back pressed against the wall, both men fighting for balance on the stairs. "Little shit!" he shouted, trying to press the edge of his blade against Mark's throat and slit it. They tussled, and Mark managed to wedge his arm between his neck and the rapier, feeling the sickening cold pain of the keen edge creasing his forearm. His free hand, however, snaked down to the pistol on his belt, twisting the leather until the muzzle pointed down; The stairwell echoed with a thunderous crack as Mark pulled the trigger and discharged the weapon, the iron ball punching a hole in the guard's boot and then his foot. The man groaned and staggered, releasing Mark. His ears ringing, Mark managed to shove the man down the stairs, following his comrade. He shook his head and began sprinting up the stairs, knowing the whole palace would be coming down on his head any second now. Alexandra was concealed in a secret closet in a parlor not far from the queen's quarters, listening carefully. She was wearing the red uniform of the Cardinal's personal guard, her impressive bust flattened and pulled tight with linen straps. Her golden hair was held in a ponytail while a black mask concealed her facial features. Her rapier sat on her hip and three customized pistols were concealed around her person, along with several knives balanced for throwing. She heard the discharge of a firearm, followed by shouts of alarm and fright. She hung her head and sighed. She'd been hoping it wouldn't come to this, but there seemed to be nothing for it. She would see her obligation met. Alexandra crossed herself and exited the hidden space, heading toward the Cardinal's quarters, determined to cause a distraction for Mark as he went in the opposite direction to rescue Rebecca. It was all in God's hands now. All she could hope was that Mark had remembered what his name was. Mark raced down the hallway, ignoring people who poked their heads out of various rooms and parlors to see what all the commotion was, before closing their doors and locking them in panic at the sight of him. He had his sword in one hand, his pistol in the other. Having discharged his shot already and having no idea how to readily and safely reload the damn thing, the pistol was mostly for intimidation purposes at this point. Thankfully, if he pointed it at people, they tended to make themselves scarce. A guard rushed around the corner, his halberd in hand, but Mark smashed the ornate swept hilt of his rapier into his mouth, which dissolved in a welter of blood, lips and gum before he burbled and fell over. Mark kept running. He shoulder-blocked his way past another guard, but then found himself confronted by a small group of angry servant girls, who kept swearing in French and throwing bread rolls and potatoes at him. Covering his head, he sprinted past them, resisting the urge to take a swipe at the uppity wenches. There was the room! He raced up to it and tried to open the door, but it was locked. Given the amount of noise and commotion he was causing, he shouldn't have been surprised. He stepped back and then slammed the heel of his sturdy boot into the door with all his might, knocking it out of its frame and falling to the floor. He rushed inside, looking around for his teacher, but she was nowhere in sight. That's when the heavy vase smashed into the back of his head. He was on his face on the floor, reality swimming around him. He heard someone hissing at him as he was handled roughly by his neck and his tunic. He was turned onto his back and someone was straddling him now, their supple legs on either side of his throat and their heavy skirt bunched up between their legs, allowing him to goggle up at his assaulter. "Becky! Stop! Stop, I; Ow! Jesus! Quit Hitting Me! It's Me, Mark!" The flurry of fists halted and then there was a pause thick with confusion. He felt his cheeks being gripped tightly, immobilizing his face and then his neck pulled up so that whoever was sitting on him could look at him. "Mark?" Becky exclaimed in disbelief. "Mark! Oh my God!" She began smothering him with feverish kisses, still straddling him. Still dizzy, he was in no particular shape to stop her, in spite of the fact the whole palace was on its way to kill him. His eyes finally managed to focus, and he looked up at her. "I've missed you too, Becks, but can you let me up, please?" Becky blinked and then jumped off him hastily, helping him to his feet. She still seemed stunned to see him, not that he blamed her. "How?" she asked, her eyes wide with disbelief and wet with emotion. "You; you were." "Dead? Yeah, kinda." "The how are you here?" she asked, trembling. He shrugged. "To quote Neil De Grasse-Tyson, science, bitches." "Oh, it doesn't matter," she exhaled, crushing herself to him and hugging tight, her body shaking with raw emotion. "You're back, Mark. You came back for me;” He smiled and hugged her back, his hand on the back of her head. "Well sure I did. You're my time-travelling partner, aren't you? Can't leave you here with these smelly savages." She laugh-choked back a sob and look up at him, her eyes leaking tears onto her scarlet cheeks. "And we're gonna get out of here and; Becks, are you, like, really drunk?" Her expression of delight warped into a scowl at his query and she pushed herself away from him. "Well what do you expect? I only spent the past month trying to kill myself with alcohol while you were taking your unscheduled nap, you jerk!" "I'm sorry," he faltered, knowing that this couldn't possibly be the right time to make her angry, on so many levels. "Let me get you out of here and then I'll explain everything." "Hang on;” she huffed, stomping over to a table and grabbing her bottle of wine, tilting her head back and taking a stiff pull from it gulping loudly. Mark made a wan face and fidgeted, acutely aware of the time they were losing. "Becks, no offense, but I'm pretty sure every guard in Paris is looking for me right now, and I' "Sounds like more of a you problem than a me problem," she grunted, attempting to drain the bottle with several loud glucks. "Nobody was trying to kill me while I was here." "No, you seem to have that covered;” he said dryly. She shot him a nasty look, but didn't stop drinking. "Look, we need to go," he insisted. "Pretty sure Alexandra's risking her neck to make sure I can' "Alexandra?" Becky interrupted, stopping drinking to look at him pointedly. "The gorgeous blonde I want to fuck?" "I; sure," Mark replied, trying to keep up. "Pretty sure she and Lisette are' "Who's Lisette?" Becky asked suspiciously, lurching toward him. She was quite a bit drunker than he'd initially thought. "It doesn't matter," he declared, determined to get moving before Richelieu arrested and shot his ass again. "We need to get' Mark winced in fear as she surged toward him, the bottle raised over her head. She flew by him and smashed the bottle down on the head of a guard who had barged into the room. His eyes rolled up into his head and he went to sleep. "Weren't you drunk moments ago?" Mark asked in disbelief. "Looks like you're the one who need rescuing." Becky shot back. "You were half a second away from having an exit wound the size of an airport runway in your chest just now." Another guard sprang around the corner. Becky, who was closest to the door, kicked him savagely between the legs. The man staggered to a stop and stiffened, but didn't fall over, the impact of her foot cushioned by the many layers of baroque skirt she was wearing, not to mention the dainty, padded slipper. As the man gaped at her, she kicked him between the legs again, but her skirt interfered, softening the blow to the place where he merely doubled over from the ache. Becky snarled angrily, lunged in, grabbed him by the neck and DDT him, almost as smoothly as ‘Jake the Snake' did to fellow pro wrestlers. This time he stayed down. "Jerk!" she muttered, glaring at the man. Without a second thought, she used a knife on the man's belt to tear layers of skirt away, leaving herself clad only in the bodice and skimpy underwear, with garters holding up the silk stockings she wore. She knelt on the unconscious man's back and pulled his boots off, replacing her slippers with the sturdier footwear. She then stripped his rapier and pistol from his person before turning to look at Mark. "You ready now?" she asked pointedly, standing there in what basically amounted to negligee and musketeer boots, while holding a rapier and a wheellock pistol. He gaped at her for a moment, unable to say anything. "You have no idea how stupidly sexy you look right now, Becks." Mark managed to say. "I'll believe it when Alexandra says it to me," she sniffed, turning and heading out the door. "Let's go, hero." Mark sighed and trotted after her, leaving the two men lying on the floor in a spreading pool of wine and broken shards of glass. Lisette made sure the guard was arranged comfortably in the plush chair, snoring, his breeches still around his ankles, his soft cock oozing cum all over his balls. She shook her head in exasperation as she rearranged her skirts; no sooner had the man cum than he yawned and began to fall asleep. She'd been nowhere close to climaxing when he'd finished. Typical male. At least the boy from the future liked to make sure she came first, even if he was a naïve school boy. She left the door open, to make sure his shame was on display and then hurried down the hallway, holding her skirt up and allowing herself to run. The palace was ringing with shouts of alarm, anger and panic. Everything seemed to be going as planned, whatever that entailed. She just trusted that Mistress knew what she was doing. Guards from various regiments were racing around now, getting one another's way and shouting orders angrily. She passed through them virtually unnoticed, merely a servant girl looking for shelter. She made a beeline right for the queen's royal apartments, and she was stopped by no one, since she was known to the guards and stuff. She nodded hastily as she passed two guards outside the ornate doors and headed inside the boudoir. Anne of Austria looked up from a book to see Lisette scurry in, closing the door behind herself and then pressing her ear to the door, ignoring everyone else in the room. She then saw the queen, blinked, curtseyed hastily, and went back to eavesdropping on the frenzy of activity outside. The monarch shook her head wearily and went back to reading her book. "You may not pass through here!" shouted the house guard, blocking Alexandra's passage forward. She had identified herself as a member of the Cardinal's guard, using her well-practiced man's voice to give credit to her guise. Thought he believed her, the man remained unmoved, barring her way. "I told you, I need to reach the Cardinal!" she insisted, knowing full well he would not let her through. "That is no concern of mine," he said coldly, glaring at her, his hand on his sword, ready to draw it. "Find another way to reach your Cardinal, because if you come another step closer, I will run you through." "So be it!" she growled as she lunged in, her own rapier flashing in her hand. The man drew his weapon and thrust at her, but she parried and then drove the point of her blade through the shoulder of his sword arm, pinning him against the wall. He groaned as his sword fell to the ground, but then her foot slammed into his face while she pulled her rapier from his shoulder. He was unconscious, but he would live. She had no cause to kill these men. She ran down the hallway, listening all the while to the commotion that echoed through the Louvre. A young guard barred her progress at a juncture in the hallways, and before he was even ready, she struck him across the head with the basket of her rapier, knocking him out. Alexandra continued along the corridor, but then saw several guards rushing into the other end of the hall, outside of an ornate door that led to the king's royal apartments. Upon seeing her, the six men pointed their muskets at her, three kneeling while the other three stood behind. A series of barks shook the area as she ducked around a corner hastily, avoiding their barrage. She could hear them shouting orders to reload. She leaned her head back against the wall and sighed. Idiots. Before they had reloaded, she had pulled a small device made of two pieces of flint out of her pocket, along with a tiny clay pot out of the other. From the hole in the top of the pot hung a thin strip of rigid paper. She held the pot by its flat bottom and snapped the flint pieces against one another, producing sparks that caught on the paper and began to burn. As the flame made its way down the paper wick, she counted slowly and calmly before leaning around the corner, tossing the pot, which skated on its flat bottom along the floor toward the guards who opposed her. She then ducked back, waiting grimly. There were shouts and the sound of boots stampeding, but then an unreal hissing shriek and a bright, flaring white light as the magnesium powder inside the container ignited. Cries of pain followed. Ten seconds later, the light died, and she rounded the corner and strode down the hallway. Four of the six guards had fled before the grenade went off, while two were writhing on the ground, clutching at their eyes from the flash blindness. She stepped between them and kicked in the door toward the king's apartments before turning around and walking away, knowing that this would create additional confusion as they sought to find the assassin in the red tabard who sought to slay the Sun King. There was more chaos to sow. Mark and Becky sprinted down the hall, ignoring the pell-mell going on around them. Inevitably, though, they were confronted by a soldier of the Cardinal, one that Mark recognized. It was the captain who had shot him. Marks teeth clenched as he rushed forward, ready to run the sonofabitch through, but Becky was faster. She threw herself into a skid, sliding along the polished floor, hurtling straight toward the man. He gaped at her in disbelief, but by then, she had slammed her foot into his crotch, doubling him over with a grunt of unreal pain. With a roar, she surged to her feet, grabbed the man around the middle from behind and yanked him over backwards, suplexing his family jewels with zest. Mark had by now skidded to a halt and watched in disbelief while his teacher stood over the supine officer and kicked him in the ribs. "Bastard!" she raged. "Teach you to kill my students!" She knelt and yanked his head up, making sure his eyes were open as she pointed at Mark, her voice dripping with vitriol. "See that? He's alive! You can't even kill something right! Your life means nothing! Nothing!" She smacked his head off the tile floor and gathered up her weapons before looking at Mark, composing herself now. "Sorry," she said with a flush of embarrassment. "You probably wanted him, didn't you? I thought you were dead, so if I ever saw him again, I'd have to avenge you." Mark shrugged. "No harm done. Except to him, and I don't really' Mark stopped talking and stared down the hallway behind Becky. Three men in flamboyant uniforms, trimmed in blue and white like himself were now approaching them. One had a grim, patrician air and about him, the second a handsome boyish charm, while the third towered over the others by a head and shoulders, a contemptuous smirk on his face. "That can't be good;” he thought. Becky didn't even blink. Without turning around, she pointed her pistol backwards over her shoulder and pulled the trigger. The bark of the shot echoed around the palace and the giant staggered backward, eyes wide in shock, before he fell over like a redwood. The other two gaped at her in astonishment as she turned around to glower at them. They hastily took hold of their downed friend and hauled him out of sight, their duty to the king forgotten. "That's right, ladies, run!" Becky called out, her chest heaving. "How's it feel to get beat up by a girl?" "You are so sexy right now, Becks." Mark chuckled, approaching her. She turned back to face him; covered with gunpowder smudges, scratches and the occasional bruise, she'd never looked more attractive to him. Heedless of their surroundings, she threw herself against him and kissed him shamelessly. His hands found her ass and squeezed as he returned the kiss and she moaned into his mouth. If there'd been a rhino horn on his crotch, he'd have been impaled on it. She broke the kiss and looked at him hungrily, her eyes shouldering with desire. "I'm so glad you're not dead, Mark," she breathed. "I can't wait to prove it to you when we get the fuck out of here." Mark took her hand and pulled her down the hallway, breaking into a run. They weren't out of danger yet. "What're you laughing about?" she asked, scowling while she allowed him to lead her through the palace. "I think that was Porthos you shot," he said almost cheerfully. "Becks, you ganked Porthos." "Oh, I did not," she hissed, trying to not feel disgust at her student's lack of historical knowledge and basic temporal mechanics. "Porthos doesn't die until 1670. So if that guy dies, it wasn't Porthos. If it was Porthos, he isn't dead. Read a book, Mark." "Ha, you said bookmark!" he laughed as he pulled her around a corner and down another hallway, trying to reach the point Alexandra had designated. "Uh!" Becky groused. "Why was I so damn happy that you lived? I swear, Mark, I; Ack!" They both whirled in panic and threw themselves back around the corner as a withering hail of musket fire peppered the plaster of the walls where they'd been standing mere seconds before. They scrambled to their feet and began running back the way they'd come, determined to not die in some baroque version of Bullet Hell from the Matrix. "Fucking shit!" Mark yelped, yanking her around another corner as more soldiers appeared and filled the hall with musket balls. "This sucks!" "Ya' think?" she hissed as they kept running, their options becoming increasingly limited. "I'm in this too, Mister Spotlight!" "Yeah, well at least you don't have the Goblin City Battle music from the Labyrinth soundtrack stuck in your head while they chase us around and try to kill us!" "I do now, you fucker! Thanks a lot!" Becky raged. A lone house guard skidded to a stop near them and prepared to fire. Mark flung his pistol at the man, striking him in the head before knocking him aside as they continued down the corridor. "What did you throw your gun away for, dumbass?" she exclaimed, wondering if blood loss after getting shot had permanently damaged Mark's brain. She hoped he could still get it up, if they made it out of here. "It had no ammo in it." Mark grunted, trying to get his bearings, thinking back to the plans of the palace Alexandra had shown him. "Why were you carrying around an empty pistol?" Becky asked in disbelief. "Intimidation purposes? Were you gonna hold it sideways when you pointed it at people, hope you looked all gangster?" "I plugged a guy on my way to find you, okay?" he sighed as they kept running. "The first shot fired that started this whole mess, it was me shooting some jackoff in the foot as I tried to find you." Becky skidded to a stop, halting Mark's flight as well. She looked into his eyes and then hugged him in relief. "Thank you, Mark," she said quietly. "You came for me, after you nearly died, and we both could today. You're very brave." When she ended the hug, Mark found she had put her own pistol in his hands. He frowned in confusion. "Why'd you give me your pistol?" he asked. "Because let's face it, I'm a lot more likely to snag another one than you are," she sighed. "Let's go, I'm done with the Sun King's France." Out of breath, they settled for trotting down a hallway, surrounded by the echoing sounds of chaos. Things had gotten so confused that the guards were all fighting one another now, thinking the enemy in their midst. Panting, the pair stopped suddenly as they came to a major intersection of hallways. Not far away, a confused brawl consisting of house guard and the Cardinal's guard blocked their passage. Upon their appearance, though, both sides paused in their fight and stared at them. Then a captain raised a call to kill them. Without even thinking, Mark pointed his pistol at the huge iron chandelier over the soldier's heads and fired. The plaster ceiling broke as the iron ball struck at and the chandelier plummeted, crashing into the dozens of men before while clouds of plaster dust filled the hall. "I can't believe that worked!" Mark laughed as they ran down another venue. "Yes, it was very impressive, Gene Kelly," Becky sighed, shaking her head. "Next, you'll be swinging from the damn chandeliers or using your knife to ride down tapestries." Soldiers surged around the corner, charging into the couple. Mark shouted in fury as they tried to skewer him while they attempted to wrestle Becky to the ground. He dodged a blade and slashed his foe across the arm before leaping back to try and give himself room. He looked around in a panic and saw Becky kicking a soldier in the nuts before punching another in the face, her eyes flashing with fury. Someone slammed into him from behind and he tumbled forward, scrambling to gain his feet. More bodies joined the fracas and he realized that they were not only trying to kill him but fighting one another as well. It was difficult to breathe. There were too many bodies smothering him. He gasped in panic and strained to find room for himself. His shaking hand gripped a sword and she shoved it forward indiscriminately, feeling something soft give before him. He focused all his effort on crawling forward, finally emerging from the churning pile of men, locked in combat. He dragged himself along the floor but then grunted in pain as something speared into his thigh from above and behind. He turned to look, his eyes watering in pain, seeing a man in red, glaring at him, raising his rapier for another strike. Then a sword point burst through the man's chest from behind. His eyes widened, and he dropped his sword and crumpled to the ground. The man who had killed him was already moving on to another target. Exhausted and dull with pain, Mark dragged himself to a wall and slumped against it, looking around for Becky, but she was nowhere to be seen. No. Not again. He ignored the maelstrom of violence and pushed himself to his feet, limping down a hallway, sword held loosely in his hand as he went to find his teacher. Alexandra strode down the hall with purpose, her senses keen for trouble. She had caused as much trouble as she could, all the while keeping the fray well away from the queen's quarters. She regretted that men would die today, due to their poor judgement, but she understood that the girl Rebecca could not remain here in Paris. A deep foreboding warned her that almost any price was worth paying to see her safely away. Sparring with D'Artagnan. She stopped as a lone figure came into view, blocking her way down the corridor. He wore the blue of the king's mousquetaires, his young face etched with determination. His hand rested on the hilt of his rapier while he observed her. "So," he began, tilting his head. "You must be the cause of all this mayhem, oui?" "I am not who you seek." Alexandra said plainly. "I do not truck with liars and I do not appreciate being lied to!" the young man snapped. "I would have your name before I run you through in the king's. Are you an agent of Buckingham?" "No." "Charles of Spain?" "I have no time for this," Alexandra said testily, putting her hand on the hilt of her blade. "Move aside and let me complete my task, musketeer!" "Then it is death you crave!" he hissed, his rapier flashing in his hand now. "I shall happily give it to you in the queen's honor!" Alexandra drew her blade as her foe rushed forward. She parried his initial thrust and then counter-thrust, which he swatted aside. A flurry of thrusts and ripostes followed, the two warriors measuring one another, vying for advantage in the narrow hallway. Steel rang and flashed. Alexandra's sword point tore a vent in one of her foe's sleeves, and she followed up with a swipe at his eyes, but he dodged away nimbly. He lunged in with the speed of a striking serpent and she caught his blade on hers before it pierced her stomach, turning it aside. They pressed blade-to-blade, moving around one another in a slow, deadly circle, their eyes locked. He danced away again as a main-gauche flashed in her hand, nearly shearing his throat open. He spun around her next attack, and when he was facing her again, a pistol had appeared in his free hand. At point blank range, he pulled the trigger. The thunderous bark of the firearm rattled her teeth as she bent backwards, the bullet passing harmlessly overhead. Alexandra somersaulted backward gracefully, coming to her feet with her rapier guarding against a follow-up attack. A lot of bemusement crossed his face. "Very pretty, good sir," he said. "But it will not save you." He darted in again and another furious exchange of swordplay followed. His blade kissed the top of her thigh, leaving a shining crimson thread on her skin. She paid him in kind with a nick across his cheek, followed by cutting the red plume from his hat. He was nearly as fast as she was, and his recklessness made him dangerously unpredictable, even to one as skilled and experienced as Alexandra. Their blades grated as they strained against one another, teeth clenched and eyes flashing in fury. With a cry of effort, she shoved with all her might and threw him back. He kept his feet and remained on guard, irritated by his foe's grit and skill. "D'Artagnan!" shouted Athos as he and Aramis dragged the unconscious Porthos across the hallway behind the combatants, disappearing from sight. This distracted the Musketeer, who turned to look behind himself in confusion and then disbelief. He glanced back at his foe and then sighed, sheathing his blade. "Until next time, enemy mine;” he said, before darting around the corner to catch up with his comrades. Alexandra waited some seconds after he was gone and then sagged against the wall, sighing heavily. She rubbed her face for a moment before returning her rapier to its sheathe and continuing on. She had to find Mark and Rebecca. The door to the room swung open and Mark staggered inside, panting in pain. His entire leg felt like it was on fire, and it was maddeningly sticky. He had lost his sword while searching for Becky, but it mattered little if he couldn't find her. He tumbled into a sitting position, propping himself up on his hands and trying to breathe. Everything hurt now, and it was getting to the place where he couldn't move. His head throbbed and he was getting dizzy. With extreme effort, he managed to tear one of his sleeves off, and tied it around his leg, hoping it would act as a tourniquet and perhaps staunch the bleeding. It stung like fucking Hell and to his distress did nothing ease his pain. He sat there panting, when a solemn figure in red moved slowly by the door. There was a pause and then the person came back into view, peering at Mark quizzically. Clad in red robes and a little red skull cap, his tight, lemony features creased in recognition and then disbelief. "I know you," the Cardinal murmured, his eyes never leaving Mark. "Yes, you are the boy from the field, the one who claimed to be a Spanish noble and had the pretty girl with him." He stepped closer, still scrutinizing Mark, who tried to move backwards, his body screaming in protest. "But you died," the elderly man stated. "My captain shot you. You died in that field. What witchcraft is this?" Annoyance flashed in the Cardinal's eyes now. "So, you are the cause of all this tumult. The girl I was to give to the queen, she is missing and now I know why." He pulled a pistol from within the voluminous folds of his red robes and cocked it before pointing the muzzle down at Mark's face. "I think it is time I dealt with this problem myself, once and for all." Too hurt and exhausted to fight back, Mark squeezed his eyes shut; "I Kick You In The Nuts, Richelieu!" shrilled a voice from the doorway behind the Cardinal, the shout followed by a sickening thump as a musketeer's boot appeared beneath Richelieu's groin. The man stiffened for a moment in confusion, but then his eyes crossed, and he bit his lower lip as his skin turned a sickly shade of green. While Richelieu slumped forward and then fell on his side, trembling and holding the family jewels, Mark goggled up at Becky, who stood indignantly in the doorway with her hands on her hips, glaring down at His Eminence. "Asshole;” she muttered as she stepped over the Cardinal and came over to Mark, who was shaking with the effort of holding himself up. Her eyes welled with emotion as she knelt next to him. "Oh, Mark," she said in a gentle voice. "Look at you, you got stabbed, baby. I'm so sorry;” "I'll be alright," he managed to say as she hugged him to her. "At least you still look amazing, no matter how badly your ass has been kicked." Becky's laugh choked back her sob and she smiled at him, tears in her eyes. "Smart-ass," she murmured. "C'mon, let me bind your boo-boo properly and then we'll get out of here, before everyone in Paris is dead." She fixed his makeshift tourniquet and then helped him stand. Once he was upright, he took a deep breath and smiled at her. "I think I can walk, I was just in need of a breather, ya' know?" She giggled. "How the Hell are we gonna explain a rapier wound through your thigh when you get home?" "With any luck, Chester will have a little something' to fix me right up." Mark replied. "Let's go. If we are where I think we are, then our ride isn't that far away." They walked cautiously down several smaller hallways, avoiding any and all encounters. They chaos seemed to have abated, at least for now. Alexandra had predicted that if fighting broke out, there was be lots of confused violence, followed by the various guard companies withdrawing to their assigned wings of the palace, to directly protect their charges, such as the king, queen and cardinal. "Bet the Cardinal's guards are gonna be upset," Mark chuckled. "He's nowhere near his quarters, and they let him get kicked in the freaking balls." Becky giggled as she walked alongside him, her arm through his. "You have no idea how good that felt, Mark. A girl could get used to that. Maybe we should visit Berlin, see if I can kick Hitler in the nuts." "One grand adventure at a time, teach;” he said wearily, causing her to laugh. But her mirth was brought up short when a solitary figure appeared in front of them, wearing red and clad in a black mask, a rapier and several pistols on their belt. Becky scowled, getting ready to step in front of her student, when Mark seemed to sigh in relief. "I am glad to see you are both well," said the person, walking forward, pulling their golden hair out of its ponytail and removing the mask. Becky's heart leapt as she came face-to-face with Lady Alexandra once more. "Thank the Lord." She stepped in and embraced them both, all three of them trembling at being reunited. Alexandra finally smiled at her friends and nodded. "We must still get you out of here, before the guards return to some sense of normalcy. Mark, do you still have the place name I gave to you?" Mark smiled wearily. "I; it's in the little pocket in my pants here, but it's probably pretty red and unreadable by now." "It's a good thing, then, that I wrote a copy, non?" Alexandra lilted, pulling a small piece of vellum out from beneath the sash she wore and handing it to Becky. "Go to this place," the noblewoman instructed. "By carriage, it should not take more than three days. It is a sanctum I use on occasion and it will be safe. Lisette and I will find you there a day or two after you arrive." She then handed two small, round jars into Becky's palm as well. "Use these to salve your wounds, until I arrive. I promise you, they will work." "How can we thank you?" Becky asked, staring at Alexandra, enchanted. The French woman smiled and then pulled Becky to her, kissing her deeply and passionately. Becky shuddered and moaned, her arms wrapping around Alexandra and returning the kiss passionately. Mark smiled as he watched the blondes make out for almost a minute before Alexandra reluctantly pulled away. "We need to stop, or we will be fucking right here in the halls of the palace," she breathed, wiping at the corner of her mouth with a finger. "We will see one another soon, and celebrate then." She turned to Mark and smiled before leaning in and kissing him gently. "You are a brave man, my friend. Never doubt it, no matter what travails Heaven provides." She walked them through several secret passages now, until they emerged into a small courtyard, under the cover of night. Standing nearby, a non-descript carriage awaited them. Alexandra wrapped Becky in a cloak and then spoke to the driver while the clambered inside. His instructions were clear, and he would not deviate from them. Becky and Mark looked out a small window, smiling and waving at Alexandra, who held up her hand to bid them farewell. The carriage exited the Louvre via a small gate where the guards asked no questions, and then they were on their way through Paris. Mark sank back into the surprisingly plush seat and sighed heavily. "Try not to get kidnapped again, Becks," he said lazily. "I'm not sure how much more of this my body can take." "But being rescued by you is one of my favorite reasons to use tawdry sex as a thank you," she protested, turning to smile at him and tracing a fingernail up and down his chest. "You wouldn't deprive me of that joy, would you, hero?" "Perish the thought, teach;” he chuckled tiredly. A time to recuperate. Mark had Lisette pinned beneath him and rocked back and forth on top of her, his cock plunging in and out of her molten cunt, while she groaned in pleasure. It felt so good to have this boy's tool inside her again. Her legs were wrapped around his strong waist and her hips moved in time with his, taking him in as deep as she could. Lisette rarely kissed anyone who wasn't her mistress, but in this case, she was making a willing exception. Their tongues tangled wetly as they fucked, exploring one another. The tingling heat was overtaking her, and she knew it would not be long now. She crossed her ankles behind him and she bit at the skin of his chest, shuddering in delight. Mark arched his back, pushing as deep inside her as he could, before shaking and allowing himself release. Her wanton cunt gripped his cock while he came deep inside her, his whole being awash with unreal pleasure. They moaned through a frenzied kiss and then sagged together, spent and sated, at least for now. Moans, pants and sighs of bliss attracted Mark and Lisette's attention and they looked off their side; also on the huge bed with them, Becky and Alexandra were sitting together, with their arms and legs wrapped around one another, kissing hungrily as they squirmed their slick pussies together. Their matching golden hair was damp with the sweat of their exertions, skin slick and shining. The greedy smacking and sucking sounds their slits made as they mingled made the four lovers shiver in delight. Alexandra and Becky were groping and fondling one another with unreal need, their nails leaving red marks and their fingers gripping tight enough to leave welts. Neither relented, though, desperate to cum together. The moans became groans and they were panting as they gyrated their hips, churning rhythmically in a sensual dance of bliss. They pulled tighter against one another, clenching their teeth and craning their necks as they peaked, then crying out and pressing their molten, gooey pussies as they came. More feverish kissing punctuated the climax and the finally both collapsed backward, chests heaving, their legs still scissored together. Steam seemed to be rising from their bodies, skin flushed pink. The four lovers lay silent for some minutes, just basking in their shared bliss. Mark finally pulled himself out of Lisette and then knelt over her face, allowing the dark-haired girl to slide his cock into her mouth, cleaning their mingled cum from his cock, which she did with great delight. Becky and Alexandra finally clasped wrists and pulled themselves up into a sitting position, hugging tiredly, but not willing to relinquish their most intimate contact. They kissed deeply and contentedly, fondling one another's tits. Lisette looked over at them and giggled. Alexandra looked over at her servant, her eyebrow raised. "What is so funny, girl?" Lisette turned on her side and rested her head on her hand while Mark spooned in behind her. "I was just thinking, Mistress; you and Miss Rebecca look so much alike. What if you are her ancestor?" Becky and Alexandra both thought about that, looked at one another for a moment, shrugged and began kissing again, their tongues tangling loudly. "And if that was the case, think about what we discussed the other day," she continued, smirking mischievously. "You said you had wondered what it would be like to Monsieur Mark's child, yes? Wouldn't that also make him Miss Rebecca's ancestor?" Mark burst out laughing while Becky choked on her shock, interrupting the kiss she had been so enjoying. She looked at Lisette in disbelief. Alexandra just sighed and shook her head, used to her servant's twisted humor. The moment of metaphysical terror passed for Becky and they all cuddled together in the center of the bed, kissing tenderly and caressing. Alexandra had told Becky all about Mark's efforts to find her and reach her, what he had undergone and risked. Becky's eyes shone as she looked at Mark at promised to make sure he was properly thanked until the end of time. "I wish you could stay," Alexandra almost moped, regretting that she had to give her new friends up. "I enjoy your company, and I am not ashamed to say I love you both." "Feeling's mutual, Alexa," Becky lilted, tracing a fingernail across her generous tit. "But maybe we needn't end our association. If we designate a consistent place, when you know you are available, you can leave a message there. Mark and I will check for messages, and when we see one, we can visit you at the appointed time. No conflicts or dangers presented, as long as we're all certain of the clear lines of communication." "I like that idea," Alexandra said, grinning. "And I have a gift for you both." She climbed off the bed and went to retrieve something. She returned shortly with two bottles, which she presented to them. "A new type of wine, invented in my native region of Champagne," she said, kneeling on the bed as they examined the bottles. "Twice fermented and sweet on the tongue, not unlike my darling Rebecca." Becky blushed and Mark grinned. "You'll be glad to know that in our time, champagne is one of the most expensive and sought-after drinks in the world, used in every important celebration." "That does please me, Mark." Alexandra said, nodding her head and deciding to not chide him this time about telling her the future. "And now that I think of it, literally, I've got a present for you, Alexa." Mark mused, getting off the bed. The three women watched as he walked into a large closet, rummaging around loudly. When he returned, he was holding what appeared to be several unusual books, which he handed to Alexandra. "What are these?" she asked, puzzled. "Well, the graphic novel is a pictorial history of Wonder Woman, who you may recall I told you a little bit about," he explained, sitting on the bed again. "And the other three books are all written by a man named Alexander Dumas and are fictional works about the Three Musketeers. I figured they'd be humorous reading for you." She looked up at him incredulously. "But; why were they in my closet here in my chalet?" He grinned again. "Well, just a moment ago, I decided to give them to you. So in a few days, I'm gonna gather them up, bring them here to just before Becky and I arrive, and bury 'em in your closet, where I know they are. That way, I don't run into any of us. And clearly it worked." Becky made a wry face. "Ya' know, I'd say you're getting the hang of this whole temporal travel thing, but I'm pretty sure you're only getting the hang of abusing it." Mark smirked at her and pinched her nipple, making her shiver and bite her lip. He then looked back at Alexandra. "And when you're done with 'em, you can just leave 'em in our drop-off spot and Becks and I'll pick them up. That way, there's no anachronistic copies of nineteenth-century novels or twentieth-century comic books lying around to be discovered by archaeologists." "I take back what I said just now, you're gonna get us all clock-hammered right out of existence." Becky sighed, causing her lovers to laugh. Mark and Becky lay side-by-side in her bed and holdings hands, back in their own time and generally none the worse for wear. They'd learned some valuable lessons and had made some important contacts along the way. "Do' you really think Alexandra's my ancestor?" Becky mused, looking at her bedroom ceiling. Mark shrugged. "You sure look a lot alike, and you're both Hell on wheels. I'm still amused by the notion of me being your great-great-great-whatever grandfather." She sighed and shook her head. "I can handle the notion of fucking and falling in love with my great-whatever grandmother, but the notion of you as my whatever grandfather gives me the jibblies. Just promise me you won't impregnate Alexa and make that come true, Mark." He chuckled. "I promise. I have no idea how trans-temporal alimony or visitation rights even work." Becky giggled and turned in to face him, cuddling close. "So, who're you gonna save me from next, hero?" she purred, nipping at his earlobe and making him shiver. "Oh, God, Becks, can we start out with some really ferocious kindergartners from the Roaring Twenties taking you hostage? I can probably handle that right about now." She giggled again and crawled on top of him, staring down into his eyes and kissing his nose while she squirmed her tits against him. "Take me to New York in the Twenties and I'll show you how liberated a flapper girl I can be," she whispered. "Deal?" "Deal." Mark replied, pulling her down and kissing her soulfully. Count Mark and Becky in! I Think I'm Getting The Hang Of This! Finally home. Mark sat at his dining room table, eating dutifully. His mom had prepared short ribs and mashed potatoes for dinner, one of his favorites. What she didn't know was that Mark had substituted several herbs and spices into her collection, items he'd brought back from his temporal travels. At the very least, this meant they were technically several hundred years old, or sometimes that they didn't exist in the modern era at all. "I'm enjoying this particular batch of thyme that I put in the braise," Dhallyla Pritchard remarked as she gently stabbed some green beans with her fork. "Mark, where did you say you got it for me? The flavor is so; special." Mark shrugged. "Another shop I thought I'd try out," he replied. "Nowhere near our usual places." "Well, keep it up, son," his father said, sitting at the other end of the table. "No offence to your mother's cooking, but the spices we were getting before weren't helping the cause. Now this is flavor." "Such a good little minion," his mom said sweetly, reaching over and pinching his cheek. "First, you did amazingly well on your Physics exam and boosted your overall grade to the place where the university accepted you, and now you're an herbs and spices guru. Talk about an unexpected change." "Yeah," his sister Roxy said, sitting across from him, and trying to keep the suspicion out of her voice. "Unexpected is right." "Now Roxy, be nice," their mom chided. "You should be happy for your little brother, he'll be going to university with you." "As long as she pulls her grades up," grunted dad, pausing in eating to waggle his fork in her general direction. "You promised us you'd keep your grades up and we'd let you live here rent-free as a result, Rox. We're living up to our end of the bargain, what's so difficult about yours?" "Maybe I should study more and party less," she grumbled, scowling at her food. She hated to admit it, but her mom was right, the spices were great. Where had the little trouser-snake bought them? "Ya' know, open my mind more and my legs less?" "Dear!" Dhallyla gasped, looking at her daughter in shock. "Nobody said you were behaving licentiously! There's no need to use language like that!" "Sorry," the dark-haired girl sighed, putting down her fork. "Just been on edge lately. Seems to have been The Mark Show around here recently,

Day after day, case after case, Tom Smith returned to the job with a clear sense of purpose: protect, respond, and stand with the people beside him. On this episode of Zone 7, Sheryl McCollum talks with the retired NYPD detective about the path that led him from patrol work to the Joint Terrorism Task Force and ultimately, to a lifetime of service recognized at the national level. Tom shares how his father shaped his calling, how partnership becomes its own lifeline, and how a series of events during one 12-hour shift in the Bronx has stayed with him ever since. Highlights: (0:00) Sheryl welcomes listeners to Zone 7 and introduces guest Tom Smith (1:15) Tom shares how his father's NYPD career inspired his own path (5:00) Reconnecting with Detective Ralph, the most decorated detective in NYPD history (7:00) A single shift: rooftop rescue, shooting scene, infant CPR, and a fallen officer (12:15) Deployment to Afghanistan on a kidnapping case (14:45) The emotional burden carried by spouses and families (18:30) Choosing the right partner and building trust that saves lives (30:15) Tom reflects on being inducted to the National Law Enforcement Hall of Fame (33:45) Table 15: friendship, laughter, and shared history (40:00) Continuing tradition and community beyond the job (41:15) Closing reflections on service, loyalty, and legacy Guest Bio: Tom Smith is a retired NYPD detective and 2024 National Law Enforcement Hall of Fame inductee. Over 30 years of service, he worked in patrol, narcotics, and robbery investigations and spent 17 years working with the FBI/NYPD on the Joint Terrorism Task Force, including an overseas deployment to Afghanistan. Tom co-hosts the podcast Gold Shields, lectures on criminal justice and terrorism and provides investigative commentary for national media outlets. --- Sheryl “Mac” McCollum is an Emmy Award-winning CSI, a writer for CrimeOnline, forensic and crime scene expert for Crime Stories with Nancy Grace, and co-author of the textbook Cold Case: Pathways to Justice. She is the founder and director of the Cold Case Investigative Research Institute, a national collaboration that advances techniques for solving cold cases and assists families and law enforcement with unsolved homicides, missing persons, and kidnappings. Social Links: Email: coldcase2004@gmail.com Twitter: @ColdCaseTips Facebook: @sheryl.mccollum Instagram: @officialzone7podcast See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

     What if you could transform the future of military medicine with the power of AI and technology? Join us for a captivating conversation with retired Navy Master Chief and Independent Duty Corpsman Joe Espinosa, who takes us through his remarkable journey in military healthcare. From his early days navigating the austere environments with the 2nd Battalion, 1st Marines, to becoming a strategic leader shaping the hospital corps, Joe offers invaluable lessons on adaptability, preparation, and the critical balance between clinical confidence and humility.      Listen as Master Chief Espinosa shares his pivotal experiences on smaller Navy ships and the USS Stockdale, where he honed skills in resource management and prioritization—an essential foundation for his role as Force Medical Master Chief. His insights into leadership are enriched by real-world frontline experiences, underscoring the vitality of robust support systems for those serving in combat zones. A decisive encounter with a Master Chief mentor propelled Joe into a leadership role, ultimately guiding the strategic direction of the corpsman community and championing the integration of healthcare technology with T6 Health Systems.     Explore the future of military healthcare as Joe discusses the integration of AI and predictive logistics to enhance decision-making and improve survivability in the most critical situations. Delve into the innovative developments aiming to address communication challenges in deployed healthcare systems and the seamless integration of technologies like MHS Genesis. With an emphasis on how emerging tools can support the military's medical personnel, this episode serves as a beacon for understanding the evolving landscape of military medicine and the pivotal role technology plays in shaping its future.   Chapters: (00:04) Master Chief Espinosa's Path in Military Medicine (11:58) Healthcare Leadership and Strategic Planning (20:58) Transition and Future of Military Medicine (29:51) Future of Military Healthcare Communication (35:41) Software Development and Military Healthcare (40:23) AI Integration in Military Healthcare (45:17) Future Developments and Challenges in Military Healthcare   Chapter Summaries: (00:04) Master Chief Espinosa's Path in Military Medicine    Retired Navy Master Chief Joe Espinosa shares his journey in military medicine, emphasizing mentorship and the need for innovation and technology.   (11:58) Healthcare Leadership and Strategic Planning    Transition from smaller to larger ships, managing medical supplies, frontline experiences, unexpected path to leadership.   (20:58) Transition and Future of Military Medicine     Enlisted voices shape military medical systems and face challenges transitioning to civilian life, but can use leadership skills in new roles.   (29:51) Future of Military Healthcare Communication    Improving communication in deployed military healthcare systems with bi-directional feedback and innovative solutions like animated QR codes.   (35:41) Software Development and Military Healthcare     MHS Genesis integrates with other systems, ensuring seamless transfer of healthcare records for veterans in military and VA services.   (40:23) AI Integration in Military Healthcare     Technology and healthcare intersect in military and civilian settings, with AI and wearables aiding decision-making for medical personnel.   (45:17) Future Developments in Military Healthcare     The role of technology in healthcare, predictive logistics for medical supply management, and transitioning from military to civilian healthcare technology.   Balancing functionality and resource efficiency in military healthcare through agile development and user feedback.   Take Home Messages: Intersection of Military Medicine and Technology: The episode explores the transformative impact of technology on military medicine, highlighting how advancements like AI and predictive logistics are revolutionizing communication and decision-making in challenging environments. This integration empowers medical personnel, especially junior corpsmen, to enhance their clinical decision-making and improve patient outcomes. Mentorship and Leadership Development: Emphasizing the importance of mentorship, the episode discusses how strategic planning and resource management are vital for effective healthcare leadership. Experiences from frontline medical roles significantly shape leaders, underscoring the need for adaptability and open communication within the military healthcare system. Navigating Career Transitions: Transitioning from a military to a civilian career can be challenging. The episode offers insights into recognizing the value of leadership and problem-solving skills gained in the military and encourages an open-minded approach to exploring diverse career opportunities beyond traditional paths. Improving Healthcare Communication: Addressing longstanding communication challenges in deployed settings, the episode discusses innovative solutions like bi-directional communication systems and animated QR codes that ensure seamless information transfer, enhancing the overall experience for medical personnel and patients in disconnected environments. Future of Military Healthcare: The episode envisions a future where technology, including mobile devices and AI, plays a crucial role in healthcare delivery. It discusses the potential for real-time data capture and analysis to alleviate cognitive burdens on healthcare providers, fostering confidence and improving decision-making in critical situations. Episode Keywords: Military medicine, healthcare innovation, AI integration, Joe Espinosa, War Docs podcast, frontline experiences, medical leadership, T6 Health Systems, predictive logistics, healthcare technology, Navy Master Chief, mentorship in healthcare, medical department setup, medical resource management, communication in healthcare, AI in military medicine, clinical decision support, military healthcare systems, medical mentorship, operational medicine Hashtags: #MilitaryMedicine #AIinHealthcare #HealthcareInnovation #FrontlineMedicine #JoeEspinosa #MentorshipInMedicine #WarDocsPodcast #PredictiveLogistics #MedicalLeadership #HealthcareTechnology   **This Episode was supported by an Educational Grant from one of our WarDocs Sponsors- T6 Health Systems**   Honoring the Legacy and Preserving the History of Military Medicine The WarDocs Mission is to honor the legacy, preserve the oral history, and showcase career opportunities, unique expeditionary experiences, and achievements of Military Medicine. We foster patriotism and pride in Who we are, What we do, and, most importantly, How we serve Our Patients, the DoD, and Our Nation.   Find out more and join Team WarDocs at https://www.wardocspodcast.com/ Check our list of previous guest episodes at https://www.wardocspodcast.com/our-guests Subscribe and Like our Videos on our YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/@wardocspodcast Listen to the “What We Are For” Episode 47. https://bit.ly/3r87Afm   WarDocs- The Military Medicine Podcast is a Non-Profit, Tax-exempt-501(c)(3) Veteran Run Organization run by volunteers. All donations are tax-deductible and go to honoring and preserving the history, experiences, successes, and lessons learned in Military Medicine. A tax receipt will be sent to you. WARDOCS documents the experiences, contributions, and innovations of all military medicine Services, ranks, and Corps who are affectionately called "Docs" as a sign of respect, trust, and confidence on and off the battlefield,demonstrating dedication to the medical care of fellow comrades in arms.     Follow Us on Social Media Twitter: @wardocspodcast Facebook: WarDocs Podcast Instagram: @wardocspodcast LinkedIn: WarDocs-The Military Medicine Podcast YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/@wardocspodcast

High Turnout Wide Margins recently traveled to Fort Lauderdale, Florida, for the 2025 summer convening of the Partnership for Large Election Jurisdictions [PLEJ], and spoke with election officials from across the county — and world -- about the elections work they are doing in their communities. In this episode, hosts Eric Fey and Brianna Lennon speak with Brian Kruse. He's the Douglas County Election Commissioner based in Omaha, Nebraska. They spoke about how elections work in Nebraska, as well as the unique way Nebraska ensures there's enough poll workers — by drafting them. Kruse has announced that he will step down from his current position in January 2026.

In this episode, Mark and Payton are here to bring you the latest news, highlights, and deep dives into all things Real Madrid and Barcelona. We start with some news concerning the Brazilian national team, and a stunning headline involving Lionel Messi. Then, it's time for La Liga action, as Real Madrid took on their crosstown little brothers, Rayo Vallecano (9:35), and Barcelona flew to play in what would prove to be a goal-studded evening vs Celta Vigo (23:40). 

In the 7 AM hour, Larry O'Connor & Julie Gunlock discussed: WMAL GUEST: GARRETT EXNER (Marine Corps Veteran & Board Member, Veterans on Duty) on Veterans Issues ON X: Secretary Duffy and Former Secretary Buttigieg Clash Over Air Traffic Woes WMAL GUEST: SUSAN FERRECHIO (National Politics Correspondent, The Washington Times) on the Latest Shutdown News CNBC: Trump Proposes 50-Year Mortgage, But Some Say Homeowner Savings Would Be Minimal Where to find more about WMAL's morning show: Follow Podcasts on Apple, Audible and Spotify Follow WMAL's "O'Connor and Company" on X: @WMALDC, @LarryOConnor, @JGunlock, @PatricePinkfile, and @HeatherHunterDC Facebook: WMALDC and Larry O'Connor Instagram: WMALDC Website: WMAL.com/OConnor-Company Episode: Tuesday, November 11, 2025 / 7 AM HourSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Tony chats with award winning innovator Meg Duty, SVP at Puritan Life and Canvas Annuity. Puritan Life is a life carrier started in the 1950s which they have now turned into an all-cloud shop. They built Canvas Annuity, the first all digital annuity platform. An incredible story of true innovation, opening up a product to a whole new market, and all without alienating your existing distribution channels. Lots to learn from this one. A cannot miss episode!Video Version: https://youtu.be/tjh5xgSPbPs

TEXT US A COMMENT!Freedom has a price. In this Veterans Day episode we HONOR those who served and translate battlefield virtues into everyday life. Duty becomes daily responsibility. Discipline becomes habit over hype. Honor shows up in the small things. Loyalty builds brotherhood. Courage runs toward the hard thing. You will get clear steps to honor a veteran this week and practical ways to carry weight where you live. Greater love is not a slogan. It is a standard.QOTD: "Freedom was purchased by men and women who chose duty over comfort. If you enjoy the fruit, carry the weight."6 lessons I have learned from veterans:DUTY TO THE DAILY. Make and keep simple visible commitments at home first.HABIT OVER HYPE. Train your body. Sharpen your mind. Discipline your spirit. No zero days.HONOR STARTS SMALL. Be on time. Keep your word. Speak truth clearly.LOYALTY TO BROTHERHOOD. Show up for your men before you are asked.COURAGE UNDER FIRE. Initiate the hard talk, the apology, the boundary, and be the protector.NEVER OUT OF THE FIGHT. No matter what! You aint never gonna quitSOTD: John 15:13 ESV. “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.”Romans 13:7 ESV. “Pay to all what is owed to them. Respect to whom respect is owed. Honor to whom honor is owed.”Support the show TDMP SITE: https://dangerousmanpodcast.com/ Grab some DANGEROUS GEAR in our shop https://dangerousmanpodcast.com/shop/ Support the show for as little as $3 a month https://www.buzzsprout.com/2080275/supporters/new Follow us on X for more shenanigans https://twitter.com/TDMPodcast603 Follow us on Instagram for extra shenanigans https://www.instagram.com/thedangerousmanpodcast/ Connect with Matt Fortin & Rory Lawrence Email us at: thedangerousmanpodcast@gmail.com Remember men... Stop trying & start training! Top Men's Podcast for 2024... https://podcasts.feedspot.com/mens_podcasts/

November 9, 2025 - Jared Bryant

Speaker: Professor Ernest Lim (National University of Singapore)This presentation explores the external dimension of directors' duties—whether directors can and should address climate impacts and other externalities even absent financial benefits to the company's shareholders—in contrast to the shareholder value maximisation focus. Its significance stems from universal investors, the EU due diligence regime, and high emitting SOEs. I examine three arguments: UK nature clauses are constrained by shareholder primacy; US shareholder preference claims are undermined by financially driven activism; and SOE directors' duties can align with state ownership (as shown in China).3CL runs the 3CL Travers Smith Lunchtime Seminar Series, featuring leading academics from the Faculty, and high-profile practitioners.For more information see the Centre for Corporate and Commercial Law website:http://www.3cl.law.cam.ac.uk/

Spurs Chat: Discussing all Things Tottenham Hotspur: Hosted by Chris Cowlin: The Daily Tottenham/Spurs Podcast Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Since 2009, over 125,000 Christians have been killed in Nigeria.President Trump has warned Nigeria to end the persecution—or face consequences.How should Americans steward their foreign influence?

Even in this fallen, mysterious, often painful world, by God's design and at God's hand, there is serious joy for us to experience throughout all life. Experiencing that joy looks a bit different when we're old than when we're young, but it's there for us all, all along. So rejoice in whatever good things God gives us, throughout whatever life God gives us.

In celebration of Veterans Day, this episode highlights three ASHP members who volunteered to join the military in service to our Nation. Lieutenant Colonel Sherry Kwon, U.S. Army speaks with Navy veteran Tim Lynch, Air Force veteran Nancy Nystrom, and Army veteran Dale English about their stories, reflections, and perspectives on how their military experience helped shape their careers, lives, and their sense of paying it forward to provide an inspiration for others.  The information presented during the podcast reflects solely the opinions of the presenter. The information and materials are not, and are not intended as, a comprehensive source of drug information on this topic. The contents of the podcast have not been reviewed by ASHP, and should neither be interpreted as the official policies of ASHP, nor an endorsement of any product(s), nor should they be considered as a substitute for the professional judgment of the pharmacist or physician.

Cheerful giving begins with gratitude. When we recognize all that God has done, is doing, and has promised to do, our giving, of time, talent, and treasure, becomes an expression of joy and faith.

Find more from Nancy and others on Canon+: https://canonplus.com/tabs/none/pages/nancy-wilson

Send us a textWe ask whether our past 24 hours would convict us as followers of Christ, then move from prayer to practical preparation for our families, churches, and towns. Scripture guides our marriages, our honesty about sin, and our gratitude for God's providence in history.• daily audit of faith and conduct • persecution abroad and the urgency of “yet” • practical steps to strengthen local resilience • Ephesians 5 on love, respect, and marriage • 1 John 1 on walking in the light and confession • thanksgiving proclamation and national gratitude • sharing, service, and steady preparation rooted in prayerIf you are looking for a family-friendly middle-grade read, I would humbly recommend Countryside. There's two books in the series. You can get it on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, a lot of places. Any bookstore ought to be able to order it. And if you enjoy it, if you'd leave a review, that helps tremendously.If you feel like you have three or four or five dollars that you can donate each month, there is a website on the Buzz Sprout website page or webpage for the podcast where you can do that.Support the showThe American Soul Podcasthttps://www.buzzsprout.com/1791934/subscribe

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 29 Barbie Lynn s Genetics In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.   Nymphomania, while enticing to consider, is still utter madness when experienced. "Why Mr. Zane, my Barbie Lynn has told us so many wonderful things about you," she sounded so sugary that the honeyed words flowed off her tongue in a manner that was barely coherent. Also, her eyes flickered to the shower where I'd nailed Barbie Lynn repeatedly for forty minutes not all that long ago. Next to me Thomas grunted something that sounded like 'hello'. "I'm sure she's exaggerated to my betterment," I pulled that banter out of my tush, my brain was suffering catastrophic blood loss. "I can't wait to live in this dorm next year," Laramie came across with a nearly a molasses like drawl as well. "Zane, will you let me use this room next year?" "Dude! This is your room?" Jefferson perked up. "Mom, I have to come here next year!" "Um, yes Laramie, I'm going to hold this room open to every girl, and perhaps guy, in the dorm. I don't need much space," I said, "so keep out of the way of housekeeping and we are good. Also, you are immune from Handmaiden's Duty while here." "Oh, I was thinking about the game stations, satellite dishes and cable hook-ups," Jefferson added. Jefferson Davis, that name rang a bell. "Come on now Honey, a man can't go to a women's," Savannah let that sentence die unfinished. For me, it was keep the lone male status quo; or to get a good night's sleep'. "Mrs. Masters, I offer a thin hope for your son; if your daughter could line up some upstanding seniors and juniors, he might slip in under the Zane Exception to the enrollment policy," I told her. "You'd do that for Jeff?" Savannah took off her sunglasses and bit one of its arms. "Ma'am, I'd wrestle an alligator blindfolded for your daughter. I would certainly put in a good word for her brother," I smiled. I had no idea how tough alligators could be but I knew about crocodiles and those were some mean mothers in their own right. Still, faced with alligator wrestling or no anal-sex with Barbie Lynn, I was getting a belt, handbag and new shoes, damn it. The odds of getting Jeff in were long, Victoria barely suffered Heaven being around, and it would take an act of the Southern Baptist Convention to bring in a male to replace me when I was gone. "It would give your Father another option for Jefferson if you could do this Barbie Lynn," Savannah politely replied. "That would be great," the kid rejoiced. Yes, he was a fully functioning teenage male. "Zane can move mountains when he sets his mind to it," Barbie Lynn winked at me. Thomas saw it but was caught off-guard. "Let me show you my bedroom," Barbie offered her kin. They turned and the women sashayed away while Jeff had an almost run-in with Raven and 'company'. Each woman shot a look over their shoulder and smiled at me at some point along their journey which boded trouble. "I apologize, Zane," Thomas mumbled. "I thought, deep down, you were weak for submitting to your lusts. Now, I don't, I don't think that anymore." "Don't sweat it," I smiled. "It is only another day for me ending in y." "And don't you be forgetting about me, and how tough it has been resisting Zane," Vivian warned the man she was hoping to marry. "A wife should obey her husband," he started, "and a husband should know when to shut up." Lunch and what comes after I dropped Ms. Reveal's lunch off with just enough sassiness to make her smile and believe that our bad episode was behind us. She sent me to the Vice Chancellor's office a minute later, and while Doctor Victoria Scarlett was conversing over the phone, I felt comfortable to set her meal up in front of her and mine across her desk. Victoria only had this canned ice tea in her mini-frig so I swiped two and set one before her and opened mine. I wasn't exactly sure what it was, it was pretending to be Southern Ice Tea and I pretended to like it. The best thing I could say about it was it was cold. This was our fourth "working" lunch where she would insidiously fill my head with her philosophy and I'd causally remind her that women ran this government, not me; I was a figurehead. "What are you doing for New Year's Eve?" she inquired as she daintily cleaned off some crouton crumbs on her cheek. Her look was very intense. I wasn't getting 'quite' sexual signs from her but something, somehow this was personal. That could only mean one thing. "I'm spending it with Ms. Rio Talen but no set location has been chosen," I replied. "Oh," she paused then, "There is a Science Fiction convention in Seattle that runs from December 29th to through the 1st. My friends and I are attending and Hical asked about you." "Deal but we have to fit Rio in," I agreed. "I can send some Universe, TV and movie series and well as costuming information for her to look over," Victoria agreed tentatively. "No need, she's a Klingon, a small craft captain whose Father betrayed the Empire and whose survival is a stain on her honor," I told her. "With that barely constrained fury, she's a natural. You teach her how to use that bat-a-rang and," "Batleth," Victoria interjected. "Wicked-curved-bladey thing," I continued, "and you'll see. Oh, I'll need an Orion Slave Girl outfit and some green body paint for Mercy and all of her stuff by October 30th, cost is not an object." "I'll call my outfitter when you leave and I must say you are taking this rather well," Doctor Scarlet noted. "Why? I had a blast in your office that time," I admitted. "As long as I'm not crawling in, screaming fur-balls, I'm okay. I'll be a human Starfleet Doctor Xeno-biologist who has done surgery on multiple species. A "Doctors Without Borders" kind of guy. I'll get Cordelia to build me an actual tricorder, trust me." We ate, she asked for my sizes, I gave her Rio's and Mercy's sizes; at the Con we were all 'Next Gen' except Mercy who would be Old School for Halloween. She offered me a chance to be a Borg but since they all looked to be in desperate need of a sun tan, I declined. All in all, it barely took twenty minutes. "You did a very good job as Mediator this morning," the Vice Chancellor added as I made to leave. "It is not so rough," I grinned. "WWKSD?" "Wha, oh," she smiled warmly. "What would King Solomon do, clever." "Hell, the Bible has a whole book called Judges. This shit ain't so hard," I laughed as I breezed out the door. Ms. Reveal was waiting, as was Heaven. Heaven had to exert some will to not kiss me on the spot. Christina had lectured us on P D A, public displays of affection, during Homecoming. The more people who knew about us, the more the outcry and the stronger Chancellor's radical decision to keep Heaven on as part as the student body, would be challenged. As it was, our hands would casually brush one another until we got inside my dorm where I chased Heaven up the stairs, pinching her ass every time I caught up. After entering my code, I gauged Heaven's mood deciding we needed some quiet time; there would be too much traffic over most of the floor, and Heaven being too vocal, to get away with sex; and cuddling would be fine anyway. I caught sight of Rio with one of my Marksmanship team mates, Genesis. "Hey Zane," Genesis stood up. She was a weird one, going from borderline contempt to grudging respect over the last two weeks. If I didn't know the impossibilities, I'd think she had a boyfriend. "Hope wants everyone at the Amory for an equipment check at seven. We leave at 8:15." Heaven held my hand tightly. "Boudoir occopodo," Rio snickered as Genesis made her exit. Heaven's grip nearly crushed my hand, ouch. "Babe," I whispered to Heaven, "let me check this out." I disentangled myself and went for the wall of screens that separated my bedroom area from the rest of the floor. "Get some popcorn and get ready to sit a spell," Rio joked to Heaven who grumbled. I went around to see who, or whom, were using my room. Inside was not what I expected. Savannah Belafonte Masters had taken off her top (which was peach) and was rummaging with growing frustration through Barbie Lynn's bra drawer. I saw some grape juice splashed on her beige skirt. She saw me, pulled up her shirt to cover her bra-covered assets while looking a bit fearful and upset. "What are you doing in here?" she asked softly. "It is my bedroom," I replied. "What are you doing in my bedroom?" "But, but Barbie Lynn's stuff is in here," she gasped. "That would because it is her room too, we sleep together," I answered. That slowed her up for a second. "Can I help you with something?" "I, I, I spilled juice on my shirt," she began. "And your skirt," I pointed out." "Oh no," she choked back a sob. "What am I going to do? I'm a mess and none of Barbie Lynn's bras, shirts, or skirts are going to fit me." I mused over that for a second. "I've stashed some bra extensions around here somewhere and that should allow for the difference is sizes between you and Barbie," I said. "Now give me your skirt and I'll find a replacement." She hesitated so I added. "I'm not going to molest one of my best friends' mom, Savannah. Give me your skirt and I'll take care of everything." This time she did it, though I had to turn my back. I padded back out to Rio and Heaven who had just returned with the popcorn. "Rio, Heaven, I need you to break into Chancellor Bazz' residence and steal a skirt like this," I offered up Savannah's. "Hell yeah," Rio exulted. "Time for a little Breaking  Entry." "Oh, what the fuck," Heaven shrugged. "Count me in." She gave me a quick kiss and the two miscreants headed out on their nefarious mission. I went back to the bedroom and stumbled into Savannah, now with her bra off, eyeing two of Barbie Lynn's double barreled slingshots. Our eyes locked. "Right," I spun away. "Bra extensions." "Zane, do you think I'm attractive?" Barbie Lynn's Mom asked. When women say that, they can mean three things;          the truth,          the lure, or          the lie. Some women want to know if you find them attractive. Others want you to find them attractive for nefarious means. Lastly, a few woman want to be reminded that they are beautiful. Savannah was the latter. "If you are asking me if you are as good looking as Barbie Lynn, Mrs. Masters, I'll have to say no but that's because you are a lady who is fully a woman and Barbie Lynn is still leaving some of the girl behind. There is no comparison. You are both hot," I affirmed. "I don't know," she sighed. "It is with my husband, then seeing you and Barbie Lynn, in the shower, What's wrong with you and your husband, if I may intrude?" I asked. "He had an accident at work, one of his factories, and he hasn't been the same," she sniffed. "Do you love him?" I questioned. "Honestly." "Yes, yes I do," she sighed. "But he's just not there." "Do me a favor; come over and sit next to me and I promise to be as well behaved as a Montana Miner (hey, it is where my family comes from)," I said as I sat at the foot of the bed. Savannah very, very reluctantly came over and sat at my bed, but I said nothing. "Yes?" she broke down and inquired finally. "I want you to laugh," I related to her softly. "Laugh, laugh like you do with small kids." "But, I'm not sure," she began then I poked her in the ribs. "What?" So I tickled her under her arms. Savannah covered her breasts by mistake so I got some finger in and began making her giggle and squirm. "Stop it," she gasped for breath, so I rolled onto my side and tickled her other underarm until she finally flailed in surrender. "See Savannah, I'm not the bad guy," I grinned. "I'm not seducing you because I think you love Barbie Lynn's Dad and you simple need to worry a little bit less, and love yourself a little bit more." "How do I do that?" she panted. "I want you to try on some of Barbie Lynn's new clothes and see what you like, and what your husband might like," I suggested. "I'm not asking you to dress like a teenager; but not every day is Sunday school either." Oh God, I was talking clothes therapy to someone's Mother. "But," she stammered. "There is a screen right over there," I pointed out, "that you can change behind and the armoire over here has a mirror." "But I'll be parading around here, in my bra and panties," she worried. "Well, that's a bonus for me," I shrugged, "but a lady with a body like yours should be wearing bikini's with less material. Look at it that way." "Well, don't ogle, alright?" "Sure," I lied. What was I going to say? 'I'll pluck out my eyes?' After several tentative steps walking to the dresser and looking over her shoulder at me with real worry that I might find her either too attractive or not attractive enough, I gave up. I covered my eyes because they gravitated toward her backside like a plant seeking the sun. A minute later she finally spoke up. "I can't find anything that I think will fit," she said in desperation. I had the answer to that; I went up and picked out the clothes Barbie Lynn wore to the concert a few weeks back. "I can't wear this," she gasped in fright. "Barbie Lynn wore this to a social function," I assured her. "It is perfectly fine and you aren't going to leave here in it, only try it on." You see, the beauty of this pants/halter top combination was the lacing. I knew it would fit her, but she'd be showing a bit more flesh than Barbie had. She looked mortified when she stepped from behind the screens, and a little better when she saw herself in the mirror. I withheld my comment until she looked at me. "I'm dressed like a hussy," she stated sadly. "No; a hussy dresses like that when she goes to the supermarket. A wife wears that around the house to remind her husband he's a man and that she's his woman," Caveman mentality. Savanna gave her reflection a second, longer glance. This time she took in the sides, and dare I say, her ass. All her curves were smoothed out and pulled tight by the leather. "My ass looks younger," I caught her whispering to herself. "My Boobs appear like they are about to bust free," she addressed me once more. "Yes Ma'am!  Yes ma'am, they do," I smirked. "That is the whole purpose of the design of the shirt but I assure you, Barbie Lynn hasn't had one escape yet." "Oh, that's nice," she went back to looking at herself in the mirror. "Now there are some nice shirts in there, as well as some, short, skirts," I directed Savannah. She came out in the first shirt, trying to make the buttons hook but they wouldn't. I came off the bed and helped her. That is, I left most of them unbuttoned. "But they, my husband can see my bra," she worried. "Mrs. Savannah, that would be the point," I nodded. "Let him get a peek of the bra." We both heard the quiet footfalls and it couldn't be Heaven and Rio back so soon. Savannah froze and I reclined passively on the bed. "Mom, Zane?" Barbie Lynn gazed back and forth. "Baby Child," Savannah blathered. "Wow Mom," Barbie clasped her hands in approval. "The golden shirt with the plum bra is a wonderful combination for you." See, I trusted Barbie Lynn more than her Mother did. "I was trying on some clothes and, um, Zane was helping me," Savannah gulped. "Oh Mom, don't worry about it," Barbie hugged her mother, "Zane sees eight girls getting dressed every morning. He's used to it." "Oh, she trailed off. "So he's safe?" "I'd never say that," Barbie Lynn glanced back my way and licked her lips. "But he's a good friend and I think that's more important. Let's try on this next; the black leather will look good with the knee boots." It continued like this for a while. Rio and Heaven slinked back in with the now rather redundant set of conservative attire. We retreated to the head of the bead with Heaven snuggling next to me and Rio right beside her. Heaven and I shared a pillow, on our laps. "Do you think they have any idea that we're all bi-sexual," Heaven whispered as Barbie Lynn was prying Savannah into a red bustier. "Momma Mia," Rio hissed. "Those are some mounds. Big fluffy mounds." "Seriously," Heaven nudged us both, "I'm going to need a blowjob if this goes on much longer." I moved my hand behind Heaven, worked it up her skirt and up against her panties until I was giving her bunghole quite a workout. "Fine," Heaven ground out. "You can fuck me but I'm coming all over the sheets damn it." "What was that?" Savannah called out. "Do you think this is too much?" "Oh no Mrs. Masters," Heaven gulped. "If I wasn't totally into guys I would think you look, delicious." "Why thank you Ms. Vickers," Savannah smiled. "And if I wasn't totally into guys I'd have you chained to this bed and be ripping your clothes off right now," Rio added gleefully. "Oh, huh, thank you?" Savanna responded more cautiously. When Barbie Lynn, now totally torturing us, convinced her mother to wear a thong and a short skirt something had to be done. I reclined sidewise on the bed while Heaven built a pillow fort behind me and Rio dove under the covers to suck my feisty transvestite off. It was a half-assed endeavor and a minor miracle that nothing went wrong. Finally Heaven yanked my shoulder back and took a big bite out of it. I could hear Rio slurping up Heaven's cum and prayed the others couldn't. Is everything okay?" Barbie Lynn called out. "Heaven's got a muscle cramp but we are working it out," I fibbed. Second later, Rio's tussled head reappeared and she punched Heaven in the ribs. "Shit Bitch," Rio scooped up some errant semen with her finger, "Have you been holding that up all week long. You nearly choked me." "Why don't you come by every morning and we can work out an installment plan?" Heaven shot back quietly. Regrettably, Savannah noticed our, acquisitions and reluctantly put them on but I caught sight of her running her hand over some of the racier things left lying around before she and Barbie Lynn left. I had barely gotten outside with Heaven and Rio, to see if I was needed, when a squeal manifested right behind my ear and a body slammed into me, bowling me over. Paige "Lover!" Paige greeted me. "Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend Zane." Now, I was on my back, on the floor with Paige in my arms and with her skirt flapping far, far too up her ass when darkness descended on my world. It took me a moment to realize that the two Joten (Norse giants), standing behind the sofa were her parents, they were freaking huge! Her Dad alone looked like he played two simultaneous positions on an NFL team. Paige's Mother was dainty, only in comparison to her husband. Not that she's fat, oh no, this woman was simply big boned and brawny. I had to ask myself: what happened genetically? "Zane, I want you to meet my parents," Paige studied my face. "Sure," my smile wasn't too forced, "but you have to remember to give me a kiss for luck, for tomorrow's match." We rose up and my arm easily wrapped around Paige's waist. Mom and Dad seemed guarded and wary. "What game do you have tomorrow?" the Dad, Roger; finally asked. "Marksmanship Sir. I'm the spotter to the team captain, Hope Song," I smiled. "I'm Zane Braxton, by the way." I can do this. I mean, how many other girls here think they have their hooks in me? "We have the impression that you and our daughter are, romantically involved," her Mom asked me. It was the way she stated it in disbelief that astounded me and pissed me off, as if a big healthy strapping guy like me would choose their 'flawed' daughter. "Paige is an upperclassmen so mainly we hook up for the hours of hot sex," I pulled her close. "Come here, you," I turned and looked down at Paige she pushed up and kissed me deeply. "What are you doing with my daughter?" Roger rumbled. "I'm kissing my lady," I smiled at him, "What does it look like I'm doing Sir?" "I don't know what you think you are going to get out of this," he snarled. "Paige," I addressed the sultry albino who was all but humping my leg at this point, "what do I get out of your relationship?" "Hot steamy White Russian sex," she purred in a Russian accent. Yes, this side of 'poor pitiful Paige' was new to her parents. "But our daughter can't," the Mom stumbled verbally. "Oh yeah, and I'm taking Paige with me on a cross country motorcycle trip this summer," I kept grinning. "I hope you don't mind, she's our computer tech and back-up bar bouncer." Maybe the bar-bouncer bit was too much. "She'll get hurt," Roger sputtered. "Ah, I bleed more than she does and there will be a dozen of us; so if she kicks someone's ass and ends up in jail we'll be able to bail her out," I kissed Paige's forehead. "Baby, Paige," Roger muttered softly. "How about we talk about this?" "Sure thing, Daddy," Paige agreed. "Zane, I'll catch up with you before you head out for the tournament." I swatted her ass, in full view of her parents, which Paige loved. She sauntered off like a woman victorious. "You are such an idiot," Rio snickered in my ear. "That girl is a nut-bag and you are feeding her dynamite." "Speaking of feeding someone some dynamite," Heaven took my hand. "No one seems to need me at the moment," I squeezed her hand back. "Let's run for it!" and we raced for the bedroom like lovers possessed. Heaven I lay between Heaven's legs, her thighs arching up against my own. She wiggled her hips against me and her cock against stomach. I bit down at her nose but she laughed and turned her face away so I nipped her proffered neck instead. "Oh," she gasped. To show me how much she liked it, she rotated her hips, rubbing my cock around inside her. "My Honey likes?" I teased. "You know I do you bastard," she panted. "Nice, slow and hard." I withdrew my cock and then eased it back into her depths. Heaven hisses out her pleasure and with her hands on my shoulders she pulls me in tight. "God, I love you," she whispered to me. "I love the woman grinding up against me too, Heaven," I smiled to her. She hiccupped in passion then began thrusting harder up against me until I could feel her ready to erupt. I took hold of her shoulders and begun pounding her in sympathetic penetrations. "God Damn!" she seethed into my collarbone. Dampness flushed up my stomach and onto my chest to the very edge of my neck. Face to face sex really appealed to Heaven and she was really shooting off hard because of it. I slowed down; I hadn't ejaculated yet but I didn't want to wear her down while I worked up to it. "Oh no you don't," Heaven gasped. "I, I know what you want," she giggled weakly. Heaven struggled against my hold. "You don't have to," I said softly. "I want to you dummy," she kissed me. "Now let go and I'll roll over." "No, let me," I related before I leaned in for a French Kiss full of need. She gave one more surge of defiance then relaxed. Then I shifted my arm down until I reached the back of her left knee. I pushed it up until she passed my hip. Heaven was glowing with anticipation. I was folding her up and then I was going to pound her thoroughly and fully. Heaven brought up her right leg all on her own but the real gift was the way she arched her back in ecstasy when I bottomed out in her with all the muscle power I could muster. We held eye contact as I drove into her time and time again. A tear escaped her eye and scarred her cheek. "Babe?" I worried and slowed down. "I'm happy Zane," she breathed deeply. "Happy." I resumed my energy and the very essence she was lending me set me off by surprise. "Oh God," I gasped and gave her my seed. Heaven bit her lower lip as I sizzled up her rectum with my hot semen. A smile must have etched my features because Heaven became quizzical. "What are you thinking about, Lover?" she asked softly. "I think I've had the best homecoming ever," I answered. It took her a second to get it. "You can keep coming home as often as you want," Heaven licked her lips and bucked her luscious ass against my still rigid rod. Brandi Hand in hand, Heaven and I had barely exited my bedroom when Brandi came rushing up with a girl in hand. "Hey!" she beamed. "This is my sister, March; and she's coming here next year. I wanted her to meet you, Zane." How bad could this be? I squeezed Heaven's hand. "Hello March, this is Heaven Vickers, my girlfriend," I shook March's hand with my free limb. "Hey Zane," March said shyly then, "Brandi says you do things, with lots of girls here?" "See how Heaven is smiling," Brandi whispered to her sister like some conspirator. "He makes me smile just like she is." Well, I had to think, not exactly like I do with you. "Brandi, what did you tell her?" Heaven intervened. "I told her," the two giggled, "that he's magic with his fingers and tongue; and he'll do all the things, to her." "You pimped Zane out?" Heaven snickered. "It, it isn't like that," Brandi back-pedaled. "I sent her a link to his website and told her to hide it from Mom and Dad." "And Brandi says we can have sex here with you, and God won't hold it against us," March piped up. I had to go 'What the Hell?' I give out dispensations from God? He really ought to tell me these things. "I wouldn't go that far," I got out. "Oh, being with Zane is a spiritual experience," Heaven snickered. "Ten minutes ago I swear I was seeing Angels." I wanted to stomp on her toes because March seemed to be buying it. "Are you a virgin?" March whispered to Heaven. "I swear on the Bible that Zane's never penetrated my cunt," Heaven raised up her hand to God. "Did he, you know, the other way?" Brandi leaned in expectantly. "Until I cried tears of joy," Heaven teased her right back. I really wanted to stomp on Heaven's foot. "What other way?" March joined the conversation. "You know, like Barbie Lynn," Brandi giggled to her sister. Oh fuck. "Didn't it hurt?" March sounded concerned. "Oh no," Heaven stroked March's arm. "He's slow and gentle." "Okay; fun conversation!" I declared. "I see someone who wants to kill me. March, you are a beautiful young lady with an exceptional sister and I'll see you next year." I stormed deeper into my apartment only to hear. "Look at that ass go," Heaven sighed. "Yeah," Brandi murmured. "Those pants are so tight. They are hot! Cappadocia Rio was getting downright mopey when we headed for dinner. As we were going in, I spotted Cappadocia and what had to be her little brother, mother and father. I wasn't sure if she wanted to have me meet the folks so I tried to quietly move passed. "Zane," she turned and called out. I deviated my path and went over. Rio tagged along. "Hello Cappadocia, Mr. and Mrs. Davis and, um, young man," I greeted them. "Tobias," the young guy offered his hand and I shook it. "This is my good friend Rio Talon," I brought her forward. Mr. Davis stepped up and shook my hand next. His grip was stronger than needed in that alpha male style. "It is good to meet you Mr. Braxton. My little girl says you are a promising candidate on the new to the first squad," he grinned smugly. "Well, Cappy would know, she's Team Captain and I'm sure she'll be Captain next year when she'll get to decide if I stay on First Team," I tried to be nice. "So does it feel bad to be beaten up by girls?" he joked. "Well, if I ever get beaten up by a girl I'll let you know," I gave him my best steely grin. "Here I get beaten up by women, really tough women." That brought the big guy up short. "Oh well, my daughters a real fighter alright," he stammered. "I believe you, she's knocked me unconscious once, in a practice session. She laid me out cold for about a minute," I enlightened him. "Zane knocked Coach Gorman down Father," Cappy came to my defense, "and took down three men who threatened some girls once." "You girls shouldn't be leaving campus," her mother chimed in. "Mother, we go out in groups and we are just fine," Cappy insisted. "Are you responsible for this new attitude?" the Dad asked. "Sir, I'm one freshmen in a school of 900 women," I shrugged. "The fearlessness was here before I ever arrived. It will be here long after I'm gone. I belief the unofficial motto for the Karate program is 'I kick ass for the Lord'," I sort of lied. Cappy said it and she smiled slightly the hear me repeat it. "Yes," he muttered, "we want our girls to be strong in their faith for the Lord. It is good to see Cappadocia having a vibrant faith." "Oh, I've seen Cappadocia vibrant," I smirked her way. She restrained herself from hauling me off and punching me because our act of vibrancy had everything to do with sex and nothing that she wanted to tell her parents. Her dad missed it, her young brother wasn't even paying attention but her mother caught our undercurrent. A smirk creased her face as she looked the two of us over. "Cappy dear, you to practice safety when you spar, don't you?" she cautioned her daughter. "Yes Momma," Cappy gave a sly smile of her own, "I'm always careful, even when I have Zane down on the mat." "As long as you keep control of the situation," the Mother nodded. "You keep winning Girl," the Dad rejoined the conversation, "because you have one more year of playing around then you need to find a job and let God give you a husband." Cappy didn't flinch but I knew how hard she struggled for the team and having it disregarded by someone who meant so much to her. "Maybe Cappadocia can either compete on a National level or train students when she goes home," I offered. "She's real hardcore," Rio added. "No one trains as hard as she does and the other girls know it. Hell, when I first met her I thought she was some Inner City Gangsta Chick, she was such a bad ass." There was my girl Rio, the Conversation Killer. Sure, Cappy was African-American but that never came up with us. As I recalled, she came from a moderately-sized town outside Atlanta Georgia. "What?" the father darkened. "Rio," I tried to pull her away. "No," Rio growled. "Listen buddy," she poked the man in the chest. "Your daughter is an athlete and a damn fine one. If she was a he and in football you'd want him to try for the NFL so why are you treating your daughter any different?" "I don't think you know what you are saying young lady," Cappy's father stated angrily. "Maybe I should have a word or two with your father." "My father is a self-righteous self-serving asshole," Rio began before I started dragging her away, "and he knows I'd kick his ass if he treated me this way!" she finished screaming at him. "Whoa Rio," I calmed her. "The truth is only going to rub that situation raw." "Cappy deserves more than that," Rio spat. "Face it, you are channeling some Mercy into this Bro," I said. "She'll be okay and back in your arms come Sunday. Cappy is tougher than her father knows." "You hope so!" she groused. "I swear, with some of these bitches, they are perfect bright and confident then you roll a man around and out go the lights, nobody's home." "Then we'll have to find a way to set them on fire so the light never goes out," I suggested. "Face it, you are the schools premier pyromaniac." "That I am," Rio grumbled. "I'll find a way to burn this shit up." Opal "Hey you two," Opal greeted Rio and I as we started eating diner. "What's wrong, Rio?" "Plotting the end of male domination of the Western World," Rio grinned wickedly. "Is there something I need to know," Opal looked from one of us to the other as she sat at my side. "Are we mounting a rescue mission for Mercy?" "Mercy?" Rio said suspiciously. "Sure," Opal sampled her fare, "give the word and I'll get six or seven girls together for a run at her family if you need it." Rio stared at her for a second. "Why would you?" Rio asked suspiciously. "A lot of us like her since she came over to our side," Opal grinned, "and she keeps you in line, most of the time." "Just to keep things straight," Rio sneered. "I keep her in line damn it." "Oh please," Opal rolled her eyes, "one little whimper and a look from those soulful eyes and off to the bedroom you two go." "Gurrr, as long as everyone knows that she's mine," Rio was now embarrassed. "And that's why we would come to help you, Rio," Opal gobbled a quick bite. I tried not to laugh. "Zane," Rio pointed her fork at me, "if you are trying to tell me I have friends, I'll bleed you like a little bitch." "Who me?" I grinned. "Perish the thought that anyone likes you or considers you 'user-friendly'." "I'm the soul of friendliness, fuck you," she snipped then smirked at me. "Opal, Rio met Cappy's dad and that didn't go well," I enlightened my shower buddy. "What went wrong?" Opal sighed. With Rio, you never knew. "It is the whole bullshit of get your degree, go home, get married and start pumping out babies because that's some twisted vision of God's will," Rio stated angrily. "Most of the girls here are like that Rio," Opal responded. "Now hold on, they want to get married but we can certainly help them find the right guy and not some bum foisted on them by their families." "Opal, that's positively human of you," Rio wondered. "I was the bad girl before you two arrived," Opal snickered. "I wasn't in your league but I had radical thoughts." "The first day in the shower showed me as much," I confessed. "Well, that first body wash confirmed you weren't a girl," Opal bumped my hip with hers. "With Rio, well, it took us a while to figure out she wasn't a guy with a really small cock." Rio reached across me and smacked Opal. "My desire to be in the driver's seat doesn't make me a guy," Rio griped. "You are only the second person on this campus to have a girlfriend Rio," Opal rubbed her shoulder. "Give us a chance to adjust." "Adjust? I'm hoping for some conversions," Rio quipped. "Okay then, what are you doing tonight? Brigit and I are at loose ends," Opal offered. Rio stopped eating and looked over at Opal. "Sure, but the first one to suggest a pillow fight or that we paint our nails gets an attitude adjustment," Rio demanded. "I can hear Brigit's quim quivering already," Opal leered. "It's a date." Raven, and Paige again We had packed the last of our firearms away in the van modified to be a secure courier when the families in attendance and some of the other students gather around the bus. I spotted Raven hanging back with an older woman who was a bit heavier than she was. I walked over to make sure she was okay. "Hey Raven," I slipped past her guard and gave her a hug. She tensed up and muttered something. "What?" I wondered. "This is my mother, Carol," Raven said softly. She kept looking down at the ground. "It is nice to meet you Mr. Braxton," Carol greeted me. She seemed to be studying me intently as if she was expecting something from me. "It is nice to meet you to Ma'am," I grinned. "Raven is a really good friend to me and I couldn't be doing as well in English without her." "Do you and my daughter have a close relationship?" she pried. I could feel Raven start to fold up next to me in embarrassment. "I don't know what you mean?" I inquired. "Mom, we are just friends," Raven said sadly. Oh, now I thought I understood. "Mrs., Raven's Mom, Carol, please understand that being the only male in such a large female student body, several girls put all kinds of pressures on me," I began. "Your daughter is unique in that she treats me like a student first and that she truly helps me get by. If I couldn't touch base with her from time to time I might go nuts." "Oh," the Mom sounded somewhat disappointed. "Raven, how many girls have you helped me get away from?" I tried a different angle. "I, Paige, oh God Paige," Raven rumbled then, "and Barbie Lynn, and Rio and that girl Iona." "You really do help him with other girls?" Carol sounded surprised. "Yes Mom," Raven perked up. "Girls are always swarming around Zane, they won't let him study unless I'm around." Not totally the truth but hey. "I hope you understand that my daughter thinks a great deal of you," Carol drilled me with her over-productive Momma eyes. "The feeling is mutual," I nodded. The bus's horn beeped, it was time for us to board. "Raven, give me a kiss for luck at the meet?" Raven looked shocked but reached up on her tip-toes and kissed me on the cheek. I reciprocated the gesture and turned to leave. I had made it half way when I got blindsided and staggered. Several kisses smothered my face. "Hey Lover," Paige panted. "Good luck shooting shit and taking names." "I'm a spotter Paige. I don't actually shoot things," I clarified. "Good," she purred then stroked my cock. "Save more of that for me." "Who is that?" I heard Carol ask her daughter. "That's Paige," Raven growled with menace. Yeah, lots of love there. "Zane," Hope said evenly. We were ready to go. I gave Paige one more kiss and a squeeze on her ass then slipped passed Hope and got on the bus. Hope got on after me and Gorman started up the bus. "Well, that's not a send-off I'm used to," Genesis chuckled over Paige and I. "If it breaks his concentration, it won't be the only thing I'm sending off," Hope informed the bus to even more chuckles. Hell, it's a gun club; a bit of bloodthirstiness was to be expected. Working Past Homecoming. As Rio and I pulled into the driveway of my house, I noted both the progress Aunt Jill's contractors were making on the extension being built to shelter the motorcycles that were now hanging out at the place and their number. I also saw a bike that I didn't recognize with a brazen gang emblem on the saddle bags, Stormrider's, not Valarie's. Rio was still sulking over Mercy being with her parents. It was Saturday night so she had less than a day to go before Homecoming ended and Fall Break began. The hope was that Mercy could convince her parents she was required to stay on campus for the week school was out. Considering what her family patriarch thought of women's opinions, we didn't think she had a prayer. "A lot of bikes," Rio noted. "I don't care what Jill says, I'm grabbing a few beers." "Don't run around the front yard naked or swing from the rafters and we'll do fine," I joked. I wasn't going to fight Rio on this, I was preparing for a hung-over Rio at Church in the morning. We heard laughter as we stepped onto the porch. I swung the door open and announced us. "Jill, it's me and Rio," I said. The laughter died down and I heard footsteps coming my way. Jill and I met at the entry to the living room. We hugged, kissed and then she showed us in. Belle and Willa were regulars and Valarie was expected. The ginger-haired woman with a beer and a smile was unknown to me, though. "Zane, Rio, this is Fontana Palmer, Valarie's mother," Jill introduced us. "How's the leg, Old Lady?" Rio grinned. That's Rio for you. Fontana turned to Valarie. "You were right, you can't go ten minutes without wanting to punch her," she chuckled. "I got it for you," Belle hopped up. Rio, in her foul mood, was ready to get in a scrap right then and there but I knew that was plain stupid. "Come on, Belle," I intervened. "GF problems." "Yours or hers?" Belle hesitated. "Hers," I answered. Belle leaned past me and looked seriously at Rio. "Mercy's in trouble?" Belle sounded concerned. Willa half-turned on the sofa to get a better view of things. "She's with her," Rio bit down on the expletive for Jill's sake, "parents." "Ah, what a bitch," Belle moved past me and led Rio to the sofa. "Isn't it great when the folks decide that you aren't good enough for their little pride and joy? Been there, done that." Belle handed Rio her beer then looked back at me. "Zane, two more beers," she ordered. "Hi, Zane," I mocked myself, "Glad to have you back. How did the match go?" "It is good to have you back, Zane," Jill touched my arm. "How did the match go?" "What was the match in?" Fontana inquired. "Oh, hi, Mrs. Palmer," I corrected my rudeness. "He was in a marksmanship competition," Valarie jumped in. "How did you and Hope do?" "Hope took top spot but it was close," I informed them. "The number two guy came in .02 points behind and third was .08. The team took third place." All I have to say is those two guys scared the crap out of me. Apparently they shoot moose with .22's in their spare time or some shit like that. "Congratulations, Zane," Willa grinned. The room followed suit, except for Rio. I motioned Jill to return to her chair and made for the stairs. "Beers, bitch," Belle teased me. "Sorry, Jill, beers, Punk." I opted to not make a scene so I dropped my bag, went to the fridge, and got two beers. By the time I got back, Rio had buried her first beer and grabbed for her second. Belle took hers and winked. "What? No tip?" I wondered. "Oh, what were you expecting?" Belle tilted back her head. I ran a hand through her hair, leaned in and kissed her on the lips. Our tongues darted forth, then danced back and forth within our mouths. I put a hand on her shoulder then let it migrate down to her breast. I squeezed it gently and Belle moaned. I broke the kiss and smiled at her. "That'll do," I chuckled. Belle's eyes were alight and she was smiling as well. Jill was looking into the fireplace and blushing, Rio was blas , working through her beer, but the other three women were staring at me. "Beer, Zane," Valarie leered. Fontana, far from being protective, patted her daughter on the shoulder. "Oh, hell no," I waved off. "I was crawling through the woods all morning then spent the rest of the day riding in a bus with other smelly athletes. I'm putting my bag in my room and taking a shower." "Are you sure you know what to do showering alone?" Valarie called after me. Bitch. The first thing I noted was that someone had been sleeping in my bed. My money was on Fontana. I'd deal with that later but at the moment, all I wanted to do was get clean. As the hot water scalded away the grime and sweat I thought happy thoughts about Hope. She hadn't complimented me but she hadn't a bad thing to say about my performance either. In a way I felt 'in the zone'. I caught the range, slope and wind changes like a pro and I thought her score showed it. I knew she wanted the team to do better but with the youth of the squad, coming in third out of a field of twelve felt good to me. For Hope, nothing short of first would do. By the time I got downstairs, I was shirtless, wearing gym shorts, and drying my hair with a towel. The group had migrated to the den, the TV was on, and the conversation was muted. Jill's look told me I should have put on more clothes. I only wanted to unwind. The looks the other women were giving me were far less motherly. I groaned, shook my head and went to the kitchen for some OJ. When I returned, I looked around for a seat and decided to sit down at Jill's feet. She leaned forward and patted my shoulder. That was fine. Valarie and her mother constantly stealing my glances my way was less so. Rio was nursing a beer and her hurt feelings, Belle was running her hand through Rio's hair in a strangely comforting gesture, and Willa seemed amused by the whole affair. At the commercial break, Fontana stood up. "Zane, can I talk to you alone for a minute, outside," she requested. "Sure," I half stood then, "Wait, does this involve me and pain?" She snorted mirthfully. "No," she smirked. "If you behave I won't hurt you too much." "Go on, you wuss," Rio teased. "It isn't like you've despoiled her daughter or anything." "But I didn't," I explained desperately. "That's right," Willa joked. "It isn't like you two have rolled around in that, it's not a bed. What is it?" "It is a sleeping platform," I mumbled. "I got tired of girls taking a header off my bed." "That's awful considerate of you," Fontana smiled warmly. "A moment, please." I followed her into the hall, then reluctantly outside to the porch. I was wearing shorts and it was cold so I folded my arms to conserve some warmth. Fontana moved a few more steps down the porch, turned, and looked me over. "Zane, thank you for being a good friend to Valarie," Fontana began. That wasn't what I was expecting to hear. "Umm, okay," I responded. "See," Fontana went on, "when her father forced this on her to make her into his mold of what a good Christian woman should be, I was afraid the experience would leave her bitter." "Why is she doing this anyway?" I asked. "She's eighteen and can make her own choices." "Oh," Fontana mused thoughtfully. She paced back and forth once. "She likes you so much I assumed she told you." She paused for a moment. "After my problem with the law, my ex threatened to keep my other two daughters from me unless Valarie came to FFU." "Oh, the fuck you say," I growled. My arms came down and I balled up my fists. "Listen, I know a pretty good lawyer if you want someone to have another go at your case, or I can shove his head down a toilet until he changes his mind." Fontana laughed. "No, you are doing enough. Stormriders take care of themselves most of the time but it's good to have friends too," Fontana smiled. "Valarie is having a great time at school. She likes the girls she's met, well, some of them, and she's happy that so many are heading out our way over the summer," Fontana went on. "She's very proud." "I would have never guessed," I replied sarcastically. "No, really," Fontana faked her surprise well. "I know she hides it well but she's really proud of where she comes from. Honest." She paused again. "Can I ask you a personal question?" "Sure," I shrugged. "Why haven't you and my daughter hooked up? She won't tell me," Fontana questioned. "I'm not sure," I worked out. "I've never pressed her. She may not like having sex with the eternal audience that hovers around me. Maybe she's respectful of all the other women in my life right now. All those answers sound plausible." "Ha," Fontana laughed. "Stormriders aren't exactly bashful. She says your girlfriend, Heaven, shares but I think she really likes you because you aren't hitting on her." "She likes me because I respect her boundaries? Oh, Gawd," I groaned. "At times I really wish I was an asshole. As it is, I'm afraid that one day my cock is going to fall off." Fontana walked up, patted my crotch. "That would be a pity," she whispered into my ear before heading inside. Because I Must Secretly Abhor a Good Night's Sleep Later that evening At school, I slept on a contraption that easily slept twelve and was often occupied by eight. I go home so I can sleep, on the sofa? See, Valarie and her mom were in my room, they were guests after all. In the prepared guest room, now Belle's room, Willa and Belle had crashed out. We had three other rooms upstairs but Jill hadn't gotten around into making anything of them. Rio was supposed to join Valarie and Fontana in my bed but somewhere between the 12 and 20 beers she and Belle were sharing; Rio decided to grab a throw pillow, curl up on the floor and pass out/go to sleep. An effort to rouse her failed so I put a quilt over her and let her sleep it off. After 11:00 Jill went upstairs and the rest followed her to bed. I put a few logs on the fire and laid down to sleep on the sofa. I couldn't have been asleep more than an hour when I felt something nudge my hip. I looked up to see Fontana's ass pressed against my side, her looking down into my eyes. Fontana was beautiful but in a hard, flinty way. She was mature but compact, like a she-wolf with little padding or softness to her. Her long ginger hair was pulled back in a ponytail though her bangs were hanging loose. She wore a tight grey t-shirt that said 'Eyes Up!' that highlighted her breasts. Sure, a bit of a sag in her 36C's but very nice. The shirt only came halfway down her belly, fully exposing her bright red bikini brief panties to my gaze. Her eyes were the same blue as Valarie's and danced in the fading fire's light. There were lines around her eyes and her face was weathered but strong. I could have stupidly asked what she wanted but, hey, she was sitting next to me, dressed like that after 'lights out'. I propped my upper body with my right elbow while reaching out with my left and cupping her right cheek. As I drew her to me, Fontana twisted her body around so that she straddled me. I had to scoot my body toward the edge to give her knee room to settle down. She kissed me with a steady intensity that slowly pushed my head back to my pillow. "Man, you are easy," she breathed playfully after we broke a long embrace. "I thought I'd have to explain myself or some other shit like that," she added. "If there's anything else I need to know, you'll tell me," I said softly as I brushed her bangs aside. "I fig

After years of sharing our love for Friday the 13th: A New Beginning's Demon (Miguel Núñez, Jr.), we somehow managed to get him on the podcast. We cover everything from how his career got started, Return of the Living Dead, Tour of Duty, and—of course—Demon. Thank you again to Miguel for coming on the podcast — we had an absolute blast.Follow the show @YADpodcast on Facebook, Instagram, and X.Rate You're All Doomed on Spotify and Apple Podcasts and leave a review for Greg and Brian. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Khutba by Sheikh Nafis

What is lionhearted leadership for men? Discover masculine leadership that integrates the warrior archetype (courage, boldness, decisiveness) and the lover archetype (empathy, wisdom, nurturing)—transforming men leadership into king/queen-level authority. Perfect for C-suite executives, young men leadership academy participants, and anyone asking: What is the male leadership style? or What are the male leadership styles? In this episode, Tim Staton and Eric Rogell unpack leadership for men using ancient archetypes to redefine men vs women leadership. Is masculine leadership about dominance—or balanced strength? We explore women vs men leadership styles, women and men leadership dynamics, and why right order leadership (warrior first, lover second) outperforms one-sided approaches. Key insights: What does it mean to be a leader of men? It's leading with clarity and care—never passive-aggressive or fear-based Men vs women leadership: How male leadership thrives through decisiveness + support, not just command The hero/villain paradox: Why male leadership requires courage to be the “villain” for the greater good Self-care for kings: “If it's good for the king, it's good for the kingdom”—essential for young men leadership The Sacred Seven Core Values (Courage, Honesty, Integrity, Commitment, Duty, Honor, Love)—the foundation of what is men's leadership What does the Bible say about male leadership? Honor, duty, and love as divine mandates Attention is everything: Direct focus outward (courage) to lead like a leader of men Whether you're building a young men leadership academy, refining C-suite male leadership, or exploring what is male leadership, this episode delivers actionable wisdom. Like, share, and subscribe to lead with lionhearted strength.   Connect With Eric Rigell: Website: https://ericrogell.com/ Book: https://a.co/d/0J9eEa7   Connect with Tim: Website: timstatingtheobvious.com Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/timstatingtheobvious Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCHfDcITKUdniO8R3RP0lvdw Instagram: @TimStating Tiktok: @timstatingtheobvious

Peter Demos - On the Duty of Christian Civil DisobediencePamela Pyle - Anticipating HeavenLinda Mintle - Hope & Healing for AnxietyKaren Barnett - Through Water and Stonemeetinghouseonline.info

Send us a textWe ask what changes when we treat every day as borrowed time from God and hold our work, marriage, and civic life to that standard. Scripture, history, and a Medal of Honor story guide a practical reset toward faith, fidelity, gratitude, and courage.• daily accountability before God as a filter for time use• marriage as first priority after God, honoring Hebrews 13:4• 2 Peter 3 on patience, repentance, and holy living• Psalm 119 for light under pressure and joy in obedience• warnings against twisting Scripture and chasing greed• Private Robert L. Blackwell's sacrifice as a measure for values• 1782 Congressional thanksgiving proclamation and public faith• assimilation into founding faith and principles as moral clarity• prayer for leaders, families, service members, and nationsIf you're looking for a family-friendly middle-grade read, I would humbly recommend Countryside. And if you have three or four or five dollars a month that you can spare for the podcast, if you're getting something out of it, there's a donation website on the Buzz Sprout website, podcast website, where you can do that.Support the showThe American Soul Podcasthttps://www.buzzsprout.com/1791934/subscribe

Just as soon as President Donald Trump started applying sweeping tariffs on trading partners, legal challenges to them started piling up. We listen in on the Supreme Court proceedings that might end them. America's gender gap in labour-force participation is growing for the first time; we ask why. And the “dark patterns” that nudge—or trick, or bully—online buyers.Get a world of insights by subscribing to Economist Podcasts+. For more information about how to access Economist Podcasts+, please visit our FAQs page or watch our video explaining how to link your account. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Just as soon as President Donald Trump started applying sweeping tariffs on trading partners, legal challenges to them started piling up. We listen in on the Supreme Court proceedings that might end them. America's gender gap in labour-force participation is growing for the first time; we ask why. And the “dark patterns” that nudge—or trick, or bully—online buyers.Get a world of insights by subscribing to Economist Podcasts+. For more information about how to access Economist Podcasts+, please visit our FAQs page or watch our video explaining how to link your account. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

What are you doing to bring people to your church and to the Kingdom of God? That's the most important recruiting that any of us can do.

John Maytham speaks to Partner at Guthrie and Theron Attorneys – Jan – Hendrik Loots about the legal duty of adult children to take care and support their elderly parents. Presenter John Maytham is an actor and author-turned-talk radio veteran and seasoned journalist. His show serves a round-up of local and international news coupled with the latest in business, sport, traffic and weather. The host’s eclectic interests mean the program often surprises the audience with intriguing book reviews and inspiring interviews profiling artists. A daily highlight is Rapid Fire, just after 5:30pm. CapeTalk fans call in, to stump the presenter with their general knowledge questions. Another firm favourite is the humorous Thursday crossing with award-winning journalist Rebecca Davis, called “Plan B”. Thank you for listening to a podcast from Afternoon Drive with John Maytham Listen live on Primedia+ weekdays from 15:00 and 18:00 (SA Time) to Afternoon Drive with John Maytham broadcast on CapeTalk https://buff.ly/NnFM3Nk For more from the show go to https://buff.ly/BSFy4Cn or find all the catch-up podcasts here https://buff.ly/n8nWt4x Subscribe to the CapeTalk Daily and Weekly Newsletters https://buff.ly/sbvVZD5 Follow us on social media: CapeTalk on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CapeTalk CapeTalk on TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@capetalk CapeTalk on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ CapeTalk on X: https://x.com/CapeTalk CapeTalk on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CapeTalk567 See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Send us a textHosted by: K.L. Brady klbradyauthor.com Music Producer and Editor: Will B on IG @ willdcard25Podcast: Apple, Spotify, Google, iHeartRadio, and more. https://www.buzzsprout.com/1174634/podcast/websiteFollow us on Twitter: @chixonXmasflix Follow us on IG: @chixonXmasflix  Thank you for listening in to Chicks on Christmas Flicks podcast! If you enjoy the show, please don't forget to subscribe. Until next time remember: You cannot have too many Christmas movies. You can only have not enough Christmas movies. Ratings and Reviews Christmas on Duty - 3.5 Christmas TreesNewport Christmas - 4.0 Christmas Trees Novels:FREE for Listeners:  Sincerely, Santa @ klbradyauthor.com The 12 Daves of ChristmasThe Nick Before ChristmasSeven Minutes of Christmas Magic Also visit For Creativity's Sake on YouTube for more home/life updates.THANKS FOR LISTENING ! https://chicksonchristmasflicks.buzzsprout.comFollow us on Twitter: @ChxChristmasFlixFollow us on IG: @ChxChristmasFlixSubscribe on YouTube: #ChxChristmasFlix - Christmas Trailer Reactions Also visit For Creativity's Sake on YouTube for more home/life updates.

Today Rachel and Alysa are here to talk about Hallmark movies Christmas on Duty and Newport Christmas Pick up Christmas Switch by Kate Hendrickson today (ad) https://amzn.to/3WTGWqh or go to kate-hendrickson.com For all of our rankings https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXv4sBF3mPUCgu1AlVoiEMigO6cvdGAAW To get 15% off your next gift, go to https://www.uncommongoods.com/podcast/hallmarkies for 15% off! Uncommon Goods. We're all out of the ordinary. Our Christmas podcasts are at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X4f2KtBPzUE&list=PLXv4sBF3mPUDo41tHqhkjHCvedmZwLzHx For all of our interviews https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXv4sBF3mPUA_0JZ2r5fxhTRE_-RChCj Send us your feedback at feedback@hallmarkiespodcast.com or the twitter call +1 (801) 855-6407 Check out the merch store and get our #hashtag shirts! https://www.teepublic.com/stores/hallmarkies?utm_campaign=Hallmarkies&utm_medium=8581&utm_source=affiliate Please support the podcast on patreon at https://www.patreon.com/hallmarkies Follow us on ITunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/hallmarkies-podcast/id1296728288?mt=2 https://twitter.com/HallmarkiesPod on twitter @HallmarkiesPodcast on Instagram Check out our website HallmarkiesPodcast.com Follow Rachel's blog at http://rachelsreviews.net Follow Rachel on twitter twitter.com/rachel_reviews Follow Rachel's Reviews on youtube https://www.youtube.com/c/rachelsreviews Follow Rachel on facebook www.facebook.com/smilingldsgirlreviews Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

With Rep. Cecil Brockman's recent resignation amid questions of possible expulsion, attention has turned to what that process actually looks like in the NC House, and how rare it is for legislators to remove one of their own. In 2008, the NC House took an extraordinary and historic step — voting 109-5 to expel Rep. Thomas Wright of New Hanover County for ethical misconduct. It was the first time in more than a century that lawmakers had removed one of their own. In this episode, former Reps. Rick Glazier (D-Cumberland) and Skip Stam (R-Wake) — who chaired and vice-chaired the House Select Ethics Committee that investigated Wright — join us to reflect on that solemn moment in legislative history. They walk us through the bipartisan process that led to Wright's expulsion, the “super due process” afforded to him, and the difficult moral and political questions facing the House as it balanced fairness, accountability, and public trust. It's a rare, behind-the-scenes look at how North Carolina's legislature handles its gravest internal matter — the removal of one of its own members. The Do Politics Better podcast is sponsored by New Frame, the NC Travel Industry Association, the NC Beer & Wine Wholesalers Association, the NC Pork Council, and the NC Healthcare Association.  

We're recapping the movies from Weekend 3 of Countdown to Christmas. The theme for this weekend: surprised! Say hello: dearhallmark@gmail.com To purchase "Chasing Wind": https://amzn.to/3IGUI6gDear Hallmark's Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dearhallmark/

This episode is sponsored by Cozy Earth! Use promo code HALLMARK to get 40% off at cozyearth.com---Brian is back this week to dive into the latest holiday release: Christmas on Duty.ABOUT CHRISTMAS ON DUTYFormer rivals Blair and Josh must work Christmas duty together. When a snowstorm threatens holiday deliveries to the base, they're forced to cooperate and save the season.AIR DATE & NETWORK FOR CHRISTMAS ON DUTYNovember 1, 2025 | Hallmark ChannelCAST & CREW OF CHRISTMAS ON DUTYJanel Parrish as Blair BirchParker Young as JoshBRAN'S CHRISTMAS ON DUTY SYNOPSISThe movie kicks off with some fun animation — which, by the way, is apparently why we only get 24 movies this year.We meet Blaire Birch, who's ready to compete against Josh Cannon. During the competition, there's plenty of playful banter, but at the end, Blaire drops a bomb: she's taking Josh's spot in the infantry. He's very offended. Turns out, their dads were rivals too.Six years later, it's almost Christmas break. Blaire's only taking two days off — she's all about that work life. After a training session, she spends time with her dad, a Sergeant, who's hoping for a more traditional Christmas this year since Blaire's mom has passed.They go to the Marine Christmas festival party, and Blaire is shocked to see Josh Cannon there! He's now a company commander. The two immediately start arguing and, naturally, decide to compete again — right then and there. In their rush outside, they knock over the party cake. Their commanding officer is not amused and assigns them to Christmas duty — meaning they'll be spending 24 hours straight together.Meanwhile, a huge snowstorm is threatening to delay the children's Christmas gifts, though they're still expected to arrive by Christmas Eve.When Blaire and Josh show up for their Christmas duty, Josh has brought his own decorations — including an inflatable Santa. But when they find out the toy delivery has been canceled due to the storm, they agree to team up to save Christmas! Their plan: figure out what all the kids want, take a five-ton truck that can handle the roads, and track down the gifts themselves.As they travel, they start to open up. Blaire shares about the loss of her mom, and the walls start to come down.At their first stop, they discover the employee forgot to pull all the gifts. At the next, the owner's accidentally locked out — so Josh climbs through an air duct to grab a skateboard. (Mission: accomplished.)More driving, more heart-to-hearts. But then they're delayed by a Christmas Eve parade. Obviously, they take the chance to hop out, enjoy the show, and share a slow dance.Later, they stop for gas and run into Ezra from Finding Mr. Christmas. He offers to help them find gas if they help him with some Christmas party thing. It's… weird, but yay for Ezra, I guess.On the way back, their truck breaks down, leading to an argument just when things were finally going well. Ugh! Luckily, Josh's sister is a truck expert and walks him through the fix.They get back on the road and return — but late. Mission failed. The boss blames Josh and threatens to discharge them, but Blaire takes the blame instead. Josh feels terrible and goes to the boss to come clean, saying it was both their fault. The boss agrees to let it go — if they deliver the rest of the gifts dressed as Santa and Mrs. Claus.When Josh shows up to get Blaire (with his dad in tow), their dads start arguing — but nothing a snowball fight can't fix.They deliver the rest of the gifts, share a kiss (or three), and celebrate Christmas together with their families. Watch the show on Youtube - www.deckthehallmark.com/youtubeInterested in advertising on the show? Email bran@deckthehallmark.com Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

What do a toy train, two career-driven Marines, and two angry dads with grudges have in common?We're back with another fun recap and review from Hallmark's "Countdown to Christmas". This time, we're gabbing about "Christmas on Duty", starring Janel Parrish and Parker Young. But -- FIRST THINGS FIRST -- we're on the struggle bus with the time change?? Anyone else?!Is it worth the watch?? Check out our 'Gold or Coal' segment for our hot takes, and connect with us online for more fun all season long! We're online at www.DoYouWatchWhatIWatch.com!And, as always, may your days be merry and bright!

Join Adam, Tyler, Jason, and Justin as they kick-off season 2 of Stargate SG-1 by reviewing its first four episodes: "Serpent's Lair", "In the Line of Duty", "Prisoners", and "The Gamekeeper". They discuss topics such as father/son bonding trips, Regular-Ass Goa'ulds (RAGs), Grandma Space Hitler, and Getting Over It with Lt. Barkley. All of which comes along with more anime references than you would think. Please consider donating to the National Network of Abortion Funds: abortionfunds.org/donate If you've been enjoying the podcast, please consider supporting us at https://www.patreon.com/DeepListens If you like our new art and want to commission some of your own, reach out to Tyler at tylerorbin.net

Otra semana de análisis y debate con El George y Lola Wood. RESEÑAS: I love LA The Witcher NOTICIAS: Sonic viajará en el tiempo: https://www.superherohype.com/movies/636073-sonic-the-hedgehog-4-title-plot-details-revealed-rumor Taylor Sheridan hará película de Callo of Duty: https://deadline.com/2025/10/taylor-sheridan-peter-berg-call-of-duty-movie-1236602997/ Morfeo quiere ser el Profesor X: https://deadline.com/2025/10/laurence-fishburne-charles-xavier-ix-men-reboot-star-wars-1236589641/ American Horror Story apretó el botón de pánico: https://www.comingsoon.net/tv/news/2053783-american-horror-story-season-13-cast Paramount dejaría a James Gunn en DC Studios: https://za.ign.com/clayface/219524/news/amid-speculation-about-james-gunns-future-as-dc-studios-co-ceo-paramount-is-reportedly-keen-to-keep Si no es que Netflix los compra primero: https://deadline.com/2025/10/netflix-exploring-warner-bros-bid-1236603687/  

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