Podcasts about eighty

Eighty percent of business owners have eighty percent of their net worth locked in their business.But only twenty percent of businesses survive to see their tenth birthday.This conversation will change how you think about building enterprise value forever.Scott Beebe didn't just build a successful consulting practice...He proved that the secret to enterprise value isn't your product, your market, or your marketing.Scott is the founder of Business on Purpose and certified exit planning advisor who has helped hundreds of business owners liberate themselves from chaos while building sellable assets.In this DealQuest Podcast episode, I sat down with Scott to uncover the real drivers of enterprise value and why most businesses fail the ultimate test.In our conversation, we explored: The eighty percent rule that destroys most businesses Why your product isn't actually your product The enterprise value litmus test every owner should know How to break free from "hero complex" that kills scalability The five meeting types that build culture and systems Cash domination strategies that put owners in control And much more!Whether you're planning an exit in two to three years, building for long-term growth, or struggling with operational chaos, this conversation provides actionable frameworks for immediate implementation. • • •FOR MORE ON THIS EPISODE:https://www.coreykupfer.com/blog/scottbeebe• • • FOR MORE ON SCOTT BEEBECompany: https://www.businessonpurpose.com Assessment Tool: https://www.businessonpurpose.com/healthy Books: "Let Your Business Burn" and "The Chaos Free Contractor" FOR MORE ON COREY KUPFERhttps://www.linkedin.com/in/coreykupfer/https://www.coreykupfer.com/ Corey Kupfer is an expert strategist, negotiator, and dealmaker. He has more than 35 years of professional deal-making and negotiating experience. Corey is a successful entrepreneur, attorney, consultant, author, and professional speaker. He is deeply passionate about deal-driven growth. He is also the creator and host of the DealQuest Podcast.Get deal-ready with the DealQuest Podcast with Corey Kupfer, where like-minded entrepreneurs and business leaders converge, share insights and challenges, and success stories. Equip yourself with the tools, resources, and support necessary to navigate the complex yet rewarding world of dealmaking. Dive into the world of deal-driven growth today!

Eighty years on from Victory over Japan day in 1945, the contribution of British and Commonwealth soldiers in a brutal battle against the Imperial Japanese armed forces is often overlooked. The fact that the dropping of two atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki saved the lives of many in prisoner of war camps is even less discussed. Featuring voicenotes from readers whose family fought in Asia and the Pacific, Venetia and Roland dive into this tangled history and reflect on the legacy they have left behind. Plus, The Telegraph's Gareth Corfield gives the inside scoop on the story behind the biggest British data leak in history - the Ministry of Defence's Afghan list - and how Iran is using it to hunt for MI6 spies. Read David Blair's piece: https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2025/08/06/the-bombing-of-hiroshima-saved-my-grandfather/Read more VJ Day veteran accounts: https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2025/08/15/vj-day-80th-anniversary-veterans-who-were-there/ Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Four years after Taliban fighters retook the capital Kabul on 15 August 2021, UN Women, the gender equality agency, is warning that the situation for women and girls in Afghanistan is increasingly untenable. They say without urgent action, this untenable reality will become normalised and women and girls will be fully excluded. To discuss further Anita Rani is joined by Fawzia Koofi, former deputy speaker of the Afghan Parliament & peace negotiator, and BBC senior Afghan reporter Mahjooba Nowrouzi, recently returned from Afghanistan. The synth-pop visionary Alison Goldfrapp has had multi-platinum album sales, unforgettable Glastonbury performances, Brit and Grammy nominations. She received an Ivor Novello for Strict Machine as well as the Ivor's Inspiration Award in 2021. Last year she completed a sold-out UK headline tour, cementing her reputation as one of the most compelling, dynamic and hypnotising live acts. Alison talks about her solo career and the idea behind her latest album Flux.Topshop is relaunching this weekend with Cara Delevigne walking a catwalk show in Trafalgar Square. But with River Island closing stores around the country and Claire's Accessories also under threat, how healthy is the high street as a fashion shopping destination? Retail analyst Catherine Shuttleworth looks at what high street shopping is really like these days, how brands are diversifying, and whether Topshop can make a success of a relaunch. Eighty years ago today, Japan unconditionally surrendered, following the US atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The war in Asia and Pacific ended, and World War Two was finally over. Tens of thousands of British, and hundreds of thousands of soldiers from across Britain's empire had fought Japan. Thousands were taken as prisoners of war and held in appalling conditions. British civilians were also captured and interned. We learn about Shelagh Brown who was held captive for three and a half years, after fleeing her home in Singapore, then a British colony, when the Japanese invaded.The Women's Rugby World Cup, being held in England, starts a week today. The BBC's Rugby Correspondent Sara Orchard runs us through everything we need to know. Presenter: Anita Rani Producer: Kirsty Starkey Editor: Karen Dalziel

So much action! From Port Charles to Croatia! Britt is looking beautiful poolside, but she's clearly going a little crazy. Vaughn's hair is not that great. It's fine. But not great. Will Jason show up and remind her what a real man looks like? Or will he have to stay in Port Charles to save a much younger damsel in distress? And someone had better keep an eye on Alexis. She did an excellent job standing up to Drew, but no one could have prepared her for his cold, cruel words. He's lucky Danny didn't hear him say Sam doesn't matter anymore. Terrible! Also, Willow. Is she going to continue to unravel, or will she start to put her life back together? Lots more to keep track of, including the lying, duplicitous Colette! And Jordan's fancy, new apartment.  #mauricebenard  #kellythiebaud #rogerhowarth #maurawest #steveburton #delirious #barshampoo #daydrinkingwithsethmeyers #hillstreetblues #kinshriner  #nicholaschavez #afterlife #rickygervais #hallandoates #superstore #freaksandgeeks #freefallin #alanarkin #newgirl #lamornemorris #colonoscopy #takethenap #alleymills #billylibby #chickadee #fortgorgeous #robertgossett #daydrinkingwithsethmeyers #marcuscoloma #useastaplegun #riptwitch #ripepiphany #ripsonyaeddy  #waywardchickadee #barshampoo #ripmiffy #lovedogs #justinebateman #brookeshields #neilgaiman #dnice #cq #deborahcox #malcolmjamalwarner #lume #godzillaminusone #ripjacklynzeman #jasonmomoa #adambelanoff #thecloser #majorcrimes #wings #murphybrown #thecosbyshow #pinkalicious #ripbillymiller #ripmatthewperry #riptylerchristopher #riplesliecharleson #ripandrebraugher #ripjohnnywactor #dutchbarnvodka #chadduell #rickygervaisrobot #colinfromaccounts

The bloodbath continues tonight as two of our tributes come face to face, while another continues to indulge his lust for death.

The High-end action figure podcast for high-end humans.

The unlikely friendship we will always love: Tracy and Cody. Another satisfying friendship: Nina and Ava. A slightly less satisfying friendship: Anna and Jason. An unsatisfying friendship: Portia and Isaiah. A downright bad friendship: Jordan and Curtis.  P.S. What's with all of the horses? #mauricebenard  #kellythiebaud #rogerhowarth #maurawest #steveburton #delirious #barshampoo #daydrinkingwithsethmeyers #hillstreetblues #kinshriner  #nicholaschavez #afterlife #rickygervais #hallandoates #superstore #freaksandgeeks #freefallin #alanarkin #newgirl #lamornemorris #colonoscopy #takethenap #alleymills #billylibby #chickadee #fortgorgeous #robertgossett #daydrinkingwithsethmeyers #marcuscoloma #useastaplegun #riptwitch #ripepiphany #ripsonyaeddy  #waywardchickadee #barshampoo #ripmiffy #lovedogs #justinebateman #brookeshields #neilgaiman #dnice #cq #deborahcox #malcolmjamalwarner #lume #godzillaminusone #ripjacklynzeman #jasonmomoa #adambelanoff #thecloser #majorcrimes #wings #murphybrown #thecosbyshow #pinkalicious #ripbillymiller #ripmatthewperry #riptylerchristopher #riplesliecharleson #ripandrebraugher #ripjohnnywactor #dutchbarnvodka #chadduell #rickygervaisrobot #colinfromaccounts

Thanks for being part of the conversation I am the Poet In The Forest. A children series I penned out in the 1990s. None of it would be possible if it wasn't for this forest in South Charlotte, NC. I talk about it so much that I thought maybe it's time you get to meet all that inspires me. Thanks for being part of the conversationBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/arroe-collins-like-it-s-live--4113802/support.

Eighty years after the end of World War II, the psychological scars borne by former Imperial Japanese servicemen are drawing renewed attention.

Eighty years ago, the United States dropped a weapon unlike anything ever seen before on Japan. In his new book, "The Devil Reached Toward the Sky," author Garrett Graff writes about the development of the atomic bomb from those directly involved. Graff joins us to discuss what was going on inside the brain of those who created the first atomic weapon and what today's leaders can learn from that moment in history.

Eighty years ago this week, the first atomic bomb to be used in war was dropped on Hiroshima, Japan. Three days later, the city of Nagasaki was hit by a second. Hundreds of thousands of people died and Japan eventually surrendered. But why did America decide to use the bombs, given that Japan was already expected to lose the war? And how did Times readers debate the ethics of this decision in the pages of the newspaper?This podcast was brought to you thanks to the support of readers of The Times and The Sunday Times. Subscribe today: http://thetimes.com/thestoryGuests:Jack Blackburn, History Correspondent, The Times.Tom Whipple, Science Editor, The Times.Host: Luke Jones.Producer: Olivia Case.Clips: YouTube / Harry S Truman Library, YouTube / The Atlantic / Castle Films, YouTube / Huntley Film Archives, YouTube / US National Archives.Photo: Getty Images.Get in touch: thestory@thetimes.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

What is up with Willow? Is she good? Bad? Really bad? Can she be helped? Is this some elaborate plot to lose custody of Wiley permanently? And what is up with Lulu? She is really bad. Really, really bad. Rocco should get an apartment with Liesl. Looks like Anna's apartment might be available soon. And how bad is Ava? Rubbing ice all over the place. That's primetime soap opera behavior! At least it's the good kind of ice. Seems to be working. Cody isn't going to know what hit him. Finally, how much time are our friends going to be spending in their softball uniforms? Hard to get excited about that. P.S. Very sorry if you tried to find the video of Episode 384. It should be available on Podbean and through our Facebook page. Here is the link: https://mcdn.podbean.com/mf/web/pwzyqsj8ngfsiraw/composed-89.mp4 #mauricebenard  #kellythiebaud #rogerhowarth #maurawest #steveburton #delirious #barshampoo #daydrinkingwithsethmeyers #hillstreetblues #kinshriner  #nicholaschavez #afterlife #rickygervais #hallandoates #superstore #freaksandgeeks #freefallin #alanarkin #newgirl #lamornemorris #colonoscopy #takethenap #alleymills #billylibby #chickadee #fortgorgeous #robertgossett #daydrinkingwithsethmeyers #marcuscoloma #useastaplegun #riptwitch #ripepiphany #ripsonyaeddy  #waywardchickadee #barshampoo #ripmiffy #lovedogs #justinebateman #brookeshields #neilgaiman #dnice #cq #deborahcox #malcolmjamalwarner #lume #godzillaminusone #ripjacklynzeman #jasonmomoa #adambelanoff #thecloser #majorcrimes #wings #murphybrown #thecosbyshow #pinkalicious #ripbillymiller #ripmatthewperry #riptylerchristopher #riplesliecharleson #ripandrebraugher #ripjohnnywactor #dutchbarnvodka #chadduell #rickygervaisrobot #colinfromaccounts

Thanks for being part of the conversation I am the Poet In The Forest. A children series I penned out in the 1990s. None of it would be possible if it wasn't for this forest in South Charlotte, NC. I talk about it so much that I thought maybe it's time you get to meet all that inspires me. Thanks for being part of the conversationBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/arroe-collins-unplugged-totally-uncut--994165/support.

This is the first episode in a 5-part series marking the 80th anniversary of the end of the Second World War in August 1945. No individual bore more responsibility for plunging Europe into another world war than Adolf Hitler, who was obsessed with reversing Germany's defeat in 1918 and getting rid of all the Jews within his reach, remaking the racial map of Eurasia in the process. Eighty years after his death, Hitler's horrendous legacy continues to influence global politics, shaping our reactions to, or justifications for, war and cruelty. In this episode, the eminent military historian Antony Beevor discusses how Hitler was able to convince other statesmen he was a man of peace before he sent Europe to the depths of hell. Recommended reading: The Second World War by Antony Beevor

Eighty years ago, World War II ended in the Pacific with the first, and thus far, only use of nuclear weapons in warfare. The widely popular decision to use the bomb at the time has become fodder for historians to debate in subsequent decades. Fred Borch helps us view the decision to drop the bomb from the perspective of American leaders in that summer of 1945. Fred L. Borch is a historian, lawyer and soldier by profession. He has three history degrees, three law degrees and an M.A. in national security strategy from the Naval War College in Newport, Rhode Island. He served on active duty as an Army lawyer from 1980 to 2005 in a variety of roles, at one point having chief responsibility for overall prosecution efforts against alleged terrorists detained at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. After retiring as a colonel, Fred returned to the Army for a civilian position as the professor of legal history and leadership at The Judge Advocate General’s Legal Center and School in Charlottesville, Virginia. He has authored 10 books and more than 200 articles on legal and non-legal topics. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The crew is back and reunited, and in this episode, we delve into the bold and transformative piece of legislation, the Big Beautiful Bill, aimed at addressing and reducing significant federal programs such as Medicaid and Federal student loans. We unpack how the bill came to life, what it seeks to change, and why it's being hailed as both ambitious and necessary.Wait, what's a Financial Griot?The Financial Griot is a play on two words (Finance + Griot) that hold significance in closing the wealth gap while embracing our differences. Alainta Alcin, Lovely Merdelus, and Lawrence Delva-Gonzalez share their perspectives on current events that impact your personal finances and wealth mindset. In the New York Times, Bankrate, and other publications, the hosts share the stories that others don't. Stories about growth, opportunity, and even Wars. Beyond that, we tie it back to how it reflects on your finances. Specifically, we teach you how to become financially literate, incorporate actionable steps, and ultimately build generational wealth.Can you imagine being a Millionaire in 20 years or less?Yeah, it's possible. Eighty percent of millionaires are first-generation, meaning they didn't inherit wealth. We teach you how. Join a community of subscribers who welcome a fresh take on money.So there you have it, The Financial Griot, or TFG for short. The hosts amassed over $3 million in wealth in about eight years and are on track to retire early. We will gladly share the secrets if you want them, since the opportunity is abundant and a Win-Win.Find the TFG Crew Hosts on Instagram: Alainta Alcin - Blogger, Travel and Money Enthusiast https://www.linkedin.com/in/alaintaalcinLawrence Delva-Gonzalez, Financial Foodie and Travel Blogger @theneighborhoodfinanceguyLovely Merdelus - Entrepreneur and Small Business Growth Specialist @lovelymerdelus

Welcome to "To Kill A Delibird", the Pokémon anime rewatch podcast that combines a love of literary puns and analytics with pure Pokémania. Join Graham (Pokémon expat/video game and manga fanatic) and Kellan (hard boiled Pokémon die hard) as they discuss the Pokémon anime and hopefully construct some fun sentences along the way.HEY ITS A PATREON patreon.com/tkadpodcastAND A PERPETUAL GOOGLE FORM IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfPAPIUCcnl_PmFXu1OZrIFIIRKogPwWe6gwM2j8J-LCQMWuA/viewform?usp=sharingCheck out the official TKAD spreadsheet here: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1Y40feTKtoUQp5Thk4p1UJipEVRf_78u_qFViwAsVvCk/edit?usp=sharingIntro/outro music "Synthwave 80's" by AlexiActionThanks to Bulbapedia and TVTropes for our ongoing research.Follow the podcast on spotify: https://open.spotify.com/episode/1yQ3EQ2P91mE6Bq0i4I3EYon Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/to-kill-a-delibird/id1667957767Amazon: https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/b37371a4-331d-4254-999b-e21fc0fdd837/to-kill-a-delibirdfor more half baked content: https://www.twitch.tv/hydraleechTiktok is essential for new creators so: https://www.tiktok.com/@hydraleeches#pokemon #ashketchum #pikachu #misty #brock #anime #indigoleague #teamrocket #existentialism #comedy #pokemonjohto #totodile #cyndaquil #chikorita #charizard #wobbuffet #pokemonanime #podcast #pokemonpodcast #jasmine #ampharos #pokemondiscussion #pokemonanalysis #gaming 0:00 Intro

Gia is in Maine! Gia and Keisha are sharing a microphone! This may be a mistake. Plus, there are adult beverages. Adult beverages do not equal adult behavior. So, apologies all around. But, on the General Hospital front, Gia and Keisha are still capable of recognizing great characters, great writing, and great acting! Best mom of the year is probably a tie between Laura and Elizabeth. They're both so lovely in the way they dispense wisdom and guidance. Gia and Keisha could use some of that. A round of applause also to Rocco for reaching out to Laura and defending Liesl, to Portia, Nina, and Curtis for being quite civil to each other and looking good at the same time, and to Willow for leaving it all out there. And just knowing Britt is alive and Jason is looking for her is very exciting. Also, Joss is a force to be reckoned with! #mauricebenard  #kellythiebaud #rogerhowarth #maurawest #steveburton #delirious #barshampoo #daydrinkingwithsethmeyers #hillstreetblues #kinshriner  #nicholaschavez #afterlife #rickygervais #hallandoates #superstore #freaksandgeeks #freefallin #alanarkin #newgirl #lamornemorris #colonoscopy #takethenap #alleymills #billylibby #chickadee #fortgorgeous #robertgossett #daydrinkingwithsethmeyers #marcuscoloma #useastaplegun #riptwitch #ripepiphany #ripsonyaeddy  #waywardchickadee #barshampoo #ripmiffy #lovedogs #justinebateman #brookeshields #neilgaiman #dnice #cq #deborahcox #malcolmjamalwarner #lume #godzillaminusone #ripjacklynzeman #jasonmomoa #adambelanoff #thecloser #majorcrimes #wings #murphybrown #thecosbyshow #pinkalicious #ripbillymiller #ripmatthewperry #riptylerchristopher #riplesliecharleson #ripandrebraugher #ripjohnnywactor #dutchbarnvodka #chadduell #rickygervaisrobot #colinfromaccounts

I want to scream at you But even standing at my shoulder length My eye at your chest. You'd be a million miles away Look what I make of you. I have no mistakes left and still The fate of it is that, You have my gratitude, your gracious And yet they eat away At all the things I have And maybe there'll be more of me For now the morbid days are just as caving in as Any other making that we make of it Don't thank me, Just outrank them. Banking on your every moment Effervescent, tragic endings Waiting on your every scent and center Don't disintegrate just yet And now we enter impact Stand for circumstances Do work faster Horror horror Do you know the motive of her Former engines? Motive, motive Steer the plot or rear the message m Fritter fritter Audiences get disinterested So effing quickly. Would you mild or would you mold Or would you wake to fold the eggs into the bacon, Bread, and then tomato— Would you fear her message? Would you quick forget you're on her planet? Surely safe to know But know but knots And no but not again You bought it with your faux and auctions Hallmark cards And feathers fauxes Don't you know The faucet's only running water Oh you're hard predictable And chlorinated Oh the poison Dripping at your ways And wilting at your guilt The James The reckon gestures Reckon, Avery Severed by the check Or just the ever ending Never get there Message to a friend To just keep going When she ends it It is just another death You'll get on with it In the end Never friends. Never. Good I hate you Could you maybe Find me ugly? That's your money in my Every reaching corner Every angling cent And harsh presentations of Skin that's aging and Wages which haven't Coverage to front the Expenses, Crash diets Go broken Ugly cause you're course Everything fits But still empty on the inside I live in shredded Shambles of service But there's no gratitude My breath is only your own And this bread is my headache I haven't a sermon Or diamond Or unworthy Sex appeal And really only Ever off when Only ever on You're still demolishing the board You're still diminishing the severs Yet you neglected Each and every Crevice of this Never ending friendship— But did I ever mention there is a glass slipper For each and every person ever Just to wish one? Did it ever occur to you The circumstances you are under r Live for it Or get lost There's really only porridge in her oven If the gas or turning off or over Don't turn over now The resin's covered in the Corvette. Only cause I had to Sense when is it Blood sense. Get laid Don't flinch Get paid Gold finch Get reckless I call spirits north for dinner South for lunch And up for porridge at breakfast I've passed on I've been awake You're mortal girl The one you're on is Really only such a small pond That I should think To cover up With dirt. Start over. —and Skrillex is just in the corner the whole time playing video games. Worst dream ever. But why's Seth Meyer's mad at me? I'm guessing he always was! He's people are just like that All conservative, conformed— Again, it's not your fault It's just uncomfortable! Again I only ever approached it wanting to know If the l broach l fits But even Lucille Ball won't come if I call her— Probably don't even got the right number Code of arms Or helm of awe, huh. Fuck, man. When's Tonight Show in hiatus Need you off the island, off In Prague And out my anus, Don't remind me I've been Jamie Lee Curtis Just recently enough That I miss it. Ugh. I know, I resent that. Find a line to draw Or fly a kite past I'm past my reckoning Just for tonight, The suffering ends Surely not enough to past the time Before my electrolytes fly in But tonight Just tonight I want to dine in my mind Or die alone Without trying to find the light— The neighbor simply seems to follow it. (At least I got her ought to not slam the door now, Police interventions, There really are cause for those.) What is a warfare! Buy me a checkmark! My question mark seems to go off a lot All for it God, You're remarkable I gift a heart or though I out all my crystals in the Rockerfeller plaza But still held on to an amethyst for Dillon Francis? There those eyes are again; I hate to hurt you North; But I'm no mother board Or mother ship Or Mother Earth Broke my focus long enough to call you up, But sure, I'm just short of even past conscious. Nothing's safe for us, you know. One one to call; No code of conduct– No safety in numbers, or color guard No home, and no love in our times For our kind– We're all here now And the wrong time Is all time. {Enter The Multiverse} Do you see me? I don't not see you. Well. Well. I thought there'd be more having to say. There's nothing to say. Not nothing… Nothing. Huh. —unless you say it. I've nothing to say. Then say nothing. The frog croaks, The oak leafs, The custard leaves its corridors The hark leaps The oath melts, The sworn have sworn To never mark. To no remose, To no remark; The carrier, and carry her— The fierce need, For Vegabonds, For every caper read Amen. All is spoken; And all in thought also in words All is listened And all has heard not in her form Stiff. You're horrified. You're horrifying. Sure, but— Brother— Broken— Nothing that I've never heard before Capable. Half-friend. Northerner. Cape cod. Hamptons. Fair straights. Ancient. Sacred. R I T U A L S LEGENDS: R I T U A L S OH GOD. No! NO! NO! It just keeps going! Thank you! Thank God. I thought it was over. You were invoked. I was implicated. Fun fact: Here's the thing. You were murdered. Ah, gains. Why the fuck do I never get to just choose when this happens? Cause you don't. This isn't fair! I watch 2 segments of— STEPHEN COLBERT enters. *shattered. Shithead. STEPHEN COLBERT enters shattered. —I was shattered when I heard about it. What's that? Never you mind. I didn't— I just— asked. He finds his way to the round table in the center of the dark room. He seems twisted; it's as if he's been blindsided. Capable. And still there's nowhere In here The city we share I can go To make the sound Eager to leave my soul As how I know you. Awkward! Just wait. You've been betrayed! I— know that already. Is this your card? {Enter The Multiverse} GET OFF THE TRAIN. — Lil bitz Fool. Why every time I see you, you look guilty. Why. You never look innocent at all. If something went down — I know it was you. Hide a lie; Can't hide a lie Can't tell a tell Can't roll the ball Can't bowl the strike Can't run at all Can't fool the hare Can't skin the cat Can't dance a bit Don't row the boat Can't play the role Don't know the tune Can't trim the tree Can't hold the bowl Can't kill the fowl Don't tell the tale. Hide a lie. Run a mile Taste the bile Fill the basket Now you're moron Now you're mortal That's immoral Jimmy Fallon —that's a turtle. Tell the lie. Hide the fold. Kill the curse; Sail the ark Fill the void Hate the gap Kill the king Tell the tale Tell a lie Hide the [The Festival Project ™] knife. In for life, or what? Info wars at most. Live to tell the tale? Learn to spike the punch Learn to punch the wall Lean up on the door Learn to most of all Shut the fuck up Keep your mouth shut I love New York Give the bad news Put a smile on Oh you gotta love it I get close to nothing once a month And then come back To pull the puffer out the dragon Goddammit what you want me for I learned another lesson Don't devour her All I wanted was Just a sour odor Give the last call I go heroin blind For heroine times And by the time it all gets darker I will have pulled the plug and written on the wall in Permanent marker. ugh. Fuck you. Fuck The Doors. Fuck your chorus. Fuck your archer. Fuck, you found I. I all for her, Shoot the wombat; —But the door shuts on its own Without it getting harder, now. Don't it? Donut. i don't— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt Buckle Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I don't— Belt buckle— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Okay. I— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt Buckle Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I don't— Belt buckle— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Can I contour? Not even one episode Or epicenter Even for a lonely I got the warning For your magnitude before So what you want It's just a test Pacific coast Or night crawler Nightmare or Nightfall You swore you won't I do desire not a lover But a hand to hold And father for my own So. Shove it up your Probably want a I don't need disaster warning What you wanted Limoncello Light waves And light gave a damn I have a dance I cave to for And there you are Just a horrible oar, Now I row the boat But you don't disaster Nor could you decide to divorce her Even if I ever worked At Art gallery Organizers God, you wore her sweater Just to make it all seem rather backwards If perchance I ran my hand just over All the soft Love in the world Are you not a dozen roses? To far my flames I gave you my heart Flower Done moving Don't moon Did you really pay the neighbor Just to hate me Haven't you heard On our earth There's turf war? So far, white doves But no lost wolves, Poor pigeons, following Of course you were hard wired I hate not once But all times the hurt Each time I struck Sure I want for California And Equinox saunas And then no more do I run the tub! But for now as I soak and the roach prowls, I get my motion under the water, Sure form and no more fire till the moon comes up who rose at dusk? Likely or lite brawl Sire, You care to hard work But you desire awful I was right in all forms Now I die here Your knife and all you are Feels right as blood pours out I want but only suffer Your call could only burden My tie to fall a lark Cries Out In To Her Arms you fall and I desire I desire I now Have a heart to cry I died, sir. You won. How awful. Just a nugget of truth, This window of lies, A mask so broken And yet in the cracks there, my mirror My shadow My hard times Out to work And off to war And what you wanted No, not outside Inside love But nevermind that Now the blood pours out and sweet, I thank to this relief and finally Rest, I. No longer shall I mourn your love to not And know the guilt is slain in you anew, my heart Dear shadow, youth becomes my blood And dear far cry, Dear boy you, Wait to know me in again another There came and withered and your force Now knows mine, Never end and tethered, There I wait, then Now I blood and dreaming, sleeping in Your pure, Decency. I have strike and so wait my end; And you, go on, Now without my voice. A harp. Welcome to Ecuador. What are you doing here? I grow bananas. Every once in awhile I have you over For a cocktail Or five. Every night I tighten my eyes on you, Thoughts. Every space in time Is just a collar Dog A bark. Every time you call I still come over Though you do not want, I opposite. You see, You are time. I see you now, God. I feel your heart, I Can involve My lips quaking Your worried me My fall, right? Why— I belong in your eye, Why, Heart my home, I, Never go. Never not. Bullet to a gun For to wish I'm not awake And to dream though seek, I call And to worry Wishes swimming Thunder rolls and Hard I fall So wait and weather Weather storm And feather. You know I'm locked, and fault Too consumed by news cameras Noise tied around my, Neck your beck and call My battered back And there is she All I am not And movement, You controller Red and virtuous Are thy neither my friend, Nor foe, Nor narrow and the neck, dripping The feet, and defeated I am in my shallow Your wish is my make her I make thy for glory She the golden trophy, Truth, you will not with, These, you will decanter Encounter; or I slay you in my motion I say your name and sheild thy slain And there you are, a force And here she comes, a brain My greying matter; Your Tuesday, Wednesday She fears me not One, two, four blue eyes I'm nothing now Six blondes, four heartaches I rung, you wanted I eat, you shatter I starve, you know me Then in the waste My waist till not your honor And so, I go And she And she And she And she Eighty five and one divine But all are yours And yours are mine So then. We have killed her. And there, she lay slain, And ye, we rejoice And yet, we became To seize, none has not To breathe, yet remains— The truth comes our time, As body decays. Fuck. I don't think that was it. Nevermind. *fixed it . {Enter The Multiverse} The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project ™] -Ū.

All the glitz and glamour of the pre-Games are over, the tributes have been let loose, and the bloodbath begins. Bodies drop, alliances die, and tonight's ending is one of the most brutal and shocking moments in Plays history.

“Eighty years ago this week,” writes Vermont journalist Garrett Graff, “a group of physicists and military leaders changed warfare — and the world — forever.”August 6 marks the 80th anniversary of the United States atomic bombing of Hiroshima, Japan, which was followed three days later by the atomic bombing of Nagasaki. These two bombings are estimated to have killed over 200,000 people.Graff recounts the scientific and political backstory of the dawn of the nuclear age in his latest book, “The Devil Reached Toward the Sky: An Oral History of the Making and Unleashing of the Atomic Bomb.” This exhaustive work includes testimonies from 500 people who “tell the intertwined story of nuclear physics, the rise of fascism in Europe in the 1930s, the arrival and advance of World War II in the Pacific, and the tremendous effort of the Manhattan Project to deliver two atomic bombs that helped end the war, as well as the haunting on-the-ground stories of Hiroshima and Nagasaki themselves,” writes Graff.Graff says that the story of what gave rise to the nuclear age is “as important now as ever,” as countries around the world, such as Iran, are racing to start or expand their nuclear arsenals.“The world actually stands much closer to the edge of nuclear danger than we have for most of the 80 years since the end of World War II,” Graff told The Vermont Conversation. “This year has already seen two major world conflicts set against nuclear tensions. We've seen open warfare between India and Pakistan already this spring, the two largest nuclear arsenals to ever come into open conflict in world history. And we also saw, of course, the US and Israeli strikes against the Iranian nuclear program.”“There's a possibility, ironically, 15 years after Barack Obama tried to set us on a path toward nuclear abolition, where in the 2020s and 2030s we may actually see more countries join the nuclear club than have ever existed before.”Garrett Graff describes himself as a historian whose work is often filed under current events. He writes about inflection points in history with an eye towards how they impact the present and future. This includes his 2024 book, “When the Sea Came Alive: An Oral History of D-Day,” and his 2022 book, “Watergate: A New History,” which was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in History. He is also the editor of an oral history of the COVID-19 pandemic in Vermont that was published earlier this year by the Vermont Historical Society.Graff has had a busy 2025. This spring, his 7-part podcast series dropped, “Breaking the Internet.” In it, he explores how a tool that promised to bring people together has instead driven them apart and has fueled authoritarian movements. This is the fourth season of Long Shadow, Graff's award-winning history podcast.Graff also shares his writing about current politics in his online newsletter, Doomsday Scenario.Graff said that as the U.S. approaches its 250th anniversary, “We are witnessing an unraveling of our small-d democratic traditions in the United States and sort of backsliding in our democracy and the creeping approach of authoritarianism.”“It doesn't feel [like] a coincidence to me that we are watching this backsliding in our democracy at the precise moment 80 years later where we are losing the last members of the Greatest Generation,” those who lived through the Great Depression and World War II. “There is no preordained rule that America remains a democracy," Graff said. "And there's no preordained rule that we remain an economic hegemon. We let both of those things disappear at our own societal and national peril.”

Quaranteam-Northwest: Part 7 Hillbilly Tactics. Based on a post by Break The Bar. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.   The TV flashed, losing a digital telephone ring, and I grabbed the remote from the table and accepted the call. "Hey, Harrison," said the man on the other end. He was another lab coat, and as best I could tell from the blurry background he was likely in the same facility or even the same room as Doctor Varma had been. This guy looked like he'd stepped right out of a corny television show though; he was blubbery in the way that a guy could be after a couple of decades of slow physical decline, with a burst of thinning silver hair that just needed the black streaks and some smudges on his face to look like he'd been catoonishly blown up. The bit of scraggly, messy scruff on his chin that looked unplanned made me a little self-conscious of my own currently messy beard. Erica had wanted me to grow mine out a bit so she could decide if she liked it longer or shorter, and Ivy didn't care, so I was looking even more like a mountain man than usual. "I'm Doctor McKenna, but you can call me Bill," he continued. "You're on Doc Varma's team?" I asked, putting two and two together. "Yep," he nodded. "I was supposed to do the follow-up interview with you but got caught up with some of the numbers in your case. Charlotte and I have both reviewed the content. Sounds like you had a bit of a wild time, huh? And don't worry, we're all getting pretty used to the graphic nature of our work these days so you didn't offend or embarrass anyone." "Well, that's something at least," I said. "I never thought I'd be having a conversation like that with a doctor. Or anyone." He got a wry grin at this and held up a hand to ease me. "Believe me, Harrison. I've been with the team from the start and we have had more than a few of these sorts of conversations based on the nature of the vaccine. Yours is definitely up there as a novel case of details, but it's only personal for you, not us." I just nodded, not knowing what to say. I hadn't considered how often sex must come up in their day-to-day work if they were specialists. "Now, I have; well, I can't say it's good nor bad news," Doctor Bill said. "Interesting for us, for sure. As I'm sure you're aware, as you have two partners already, the vaccine is supposed to only be transmissible from women to men for the purposes of diluting the effects on men. To be frank, no one here on the team had considered the possibility of transferring and initiating a bonding process from one woman to another through female ejaculate. It doesn't help that most of the science community, those that would even think of it, haven't exactly spent time studying female ejaculate to begin with. So your situation wasn't tested for, but as far as we can tell it still shouldn't have been able to happen." "So what does that mean, doc?" I asked. "It means that you, or one of your current partners, or some combination, integrated with the vaccine and imprinting process in an exceptional way. A variant response is how we're categorizing it at the moment, and to be frank it's not even one of the most surprising ones we've encountered as the testing continues to broaden. As best we can tell from your interview, it's likely that Miss Peters was vaccinated through the oral ingestion of the female ejaculate; all the markers of a normal imprinting process occur when you began actual sex together. "Now, the really interesting part of this on my end is obviously the fact that this happened at all, but following the results of the blood tests from the Testing facility up where you are, and the preliminary tests we've completed on the samples that got flown down to us here, we've found that it isn't likely to be a phenomenon that is worth pursuing. Unfortunately, while Miss Peters is certainly going to be imprinted on you to some degree, it also seems that the efficacy of the vaccine in her system will be well under our current rates. Right now our projection is that she will only have an efficacy rate of about thirty-five to forty per cent, while a woman who has undergone our current best practices has an efficacy of somewhere around the eightieth percentile." I had to rub my forehead and close my eyes for a long moment as I tried to parse everything he was saying. "So what does that mean, Doctor Bill?" I asked. "It means that Miss Peters is now part of your 'Team,' he said. "That's what I've been calling the groups of imprinted people colloquially around here, anyways. But where your other two partners have a high likelihood of staving off the Duo Halo virus, if Miss Peters is exposed she is about half as likely to resist initial infection or gain serious aid in fighting off an infection she catches." "So we've put her at risk by having casual sex with her," I said. "Fuck me, this is exactly the kind of shit that I was worried about when she asked to join in with us." "Yes and no," he said. "To be frank, it's entirely possible that her integration with the vaccine will grow and normalize over time with repeated exposure to you. The staff up there will book some follow-up blood draws to check in on that. One of the many things were are trying to understand about the vaccine is how sex bolsters imprinted partners. Generally, we haven't seen that happen for women, since they can't have more than one imprinted male partner, but the more partners men are in contact with the more efficacy we're seeing." "So you're saying she's stuck with me," I said. "She asked for no-strings-attached, and she got trapped into a sexual relationship." "You could look at it that way," he said. "But,” "But," Doc Varma said, coming into view on his end of the call and hovering over his shoulder. "I would remind you, Mr. Black, that she did choose to initiate a group sexual encounter with you and your partners. And once she is awake from the imprinting process, I would not be surprised if she feels content with the overall situation following any initial panic or shock." I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling for a moment. "You know, when I first heard about this from Erica, I told her it sounded like some sort of brainwashing mind control shit? I couldn't believe she'd gotten the vaccine. But then everything was going so well that I stopped thinking about it. And Ivy was happy, and Erica's brother was partnered and they were both extremely happy. But this,” I sighed heavily and looked at the two scientists on the screen. "This is some fucked up, B-movie supervillain kind of shit. You guys realize that, right? Like, where is James Bond in all of this?" Bill frowned, but Doc Varma smirked just a little. "Yes," she said. "We are aware of how inappropriate many of the factors of the vaccine are, Mr. Black. It is a marvel of modern medicine, but we are still grappling with the necessities that come along with it." Together they ran me through what I needed to expect moving forward. Vanessa was going to be monitored until she woke up, so I would be spending the night where I was at. She'd get a complete physical, and they'd take more blood for testing before she'd be released into my care and we were brought back home. Then, depending on what she wanted, she would either be able to live with Erica, Ivy and I, or she could maintain some distance for the time being and only come to see me for the sexual encounters she would require. We would both receive follow-up check-ins from someone on the Vaccine testing team to draw more blood periodically to check if Vanessa's efficacy was changing, or if mine was. We hit the grocery store next, which ended up only allowing two people inside in a party at once. Dani wanted to look for some specific stuff, and Vanessa hadn't had her own kitchen to cook in for almost two years since she'd been eating cafeteria food on industrial construction sites, so I decided to hang out in the truck while they went in. I sent them with my credit card and reminded them of the staples we needed. They got in line outside the store, and I decided to enjoy the warmth of the afternoon and open the gate of my truck so I could sit outside. I watched Dani and Vanessa from across the parking lot, keeping one eye on them while I could. I could tell they were talking from the small hand motions. Neither of them talked with their hands like Erica or Leo did, but everything seemed friendly between them. "Excuse me?" I turned and realized I'd tunnel-visioned and completely lost track of my surroundings because a woman was standing about ten paces away from me. That wasn't like me at all. She was nervous, wringing her wrists as she stood awkwardly. She was a little scrawny, her clothes hanging off of her, and the eyes above her rough-looking mask were... not sunken, but sort of sad. "I'm sorry to bother you, Harri," she said. "I was just wondering if maybe you could spare a couple bucks? Things aren't really going well right now, and I've got my kids..." Living in Portland, I'd seen my fair share of homeless folks and beggars. Some of them were pushy and agitated, and others entirely shut down from their addictions. This woman didn't look homeless, but she definitely looked down on her luck. And down for enough time that it showed. She wasn't wearing even basic earrings but had the holes in her ears. There was a slightly less tan ring on her finger where I assumed a wedding band used to sit, but it was fading. Every major city in the United States had a homeless population. Some were worse than others, I knew that. The further south along the coast, the warmer it got, and the bigger the population. But out here in the sticks? In Jewell? Sure, we had the occasional drifter moving through. I'd never seen someone begging before. Things were really getting bad. "Uh, yeah, I can," I said, reaching for my wallet in my pocket. "I'm sorry, you know me but I'm not immediately recognizing you. Maybe it's the mask." She took a couple steps forward as I said I could spare her some cash, but looked away as I asked who she was. I kicked myself, realizing that her situation was embarrassing enough as it was. "Maybe you don't remember me," the woman said. "I was a year ahead of you in high school. Mary Duncan?" "Of course I remember you, Mary," I said. "It's just been a long time. You were a cheerleader I think, right? You did all the flips. You were really graceful." "Thanks," she said, and I could tell she was blushing behind her mask. I didn't have too much cash on me compared to what I used to carry for emergencies. I used to be a cash-only guy, at least around town. Knowing what my bank account looked like, I just pulled what I had and slipped down from the gate of my truck and set the bills on it, stepping back. "No offence, I don't think you stink or anything," I tried to joke. Mary's eyes went wide when she saw the bills, and she mumbled something as she stepped forward and I backed off a bit more so she could take them. It was maybe seventy dollars, but as she quickly looked through the bills I saw her get teary, and then she clutched the cash to her chest and collapsed to her knees, crying. I wanted to go and comfort her. Give her a hug. She was clearly overwhelmed and in a bad way, and back when we were in school she'd always been a cute, button-nosed girl with a soft smile and a big laugh. But I couldn't go to her. I couldn't rub her back or pat her shoulder or give her a hug. The best I could do was squat down from several feet away to get closer to her level. "Mary?" I asked. She sniffed hard and rubbed at her eyes. "Oh my God, I'm so embarrassed," she said. "You don't need to be," I said. "You said you have kids, right? How many?" "Two," she said. "Thomas is six now, and looks like his dad. My little girl Charlie is four. She wanted to go to school like her big brother this fall but..." But the schools were closed, and who knew how long they would be closed for? "And their Dad?" I asked. She sniffed hard again. "He went up to Portland to look for work after we both got laid off at the start of quarantine," she said. "I haven't heard from him since." "Fuck," I breathed out, hopefully not loud enough for her to hear. The guy could have abandoned his family like a shit, or just been overwhelmed and trying to find a way to make it right. Or he could be dead. "Mary, I'm sorry you're going through this. And I'm sorry if this touches another sore spot, but is your phone still active?" She nodded, touching the ragged little purse. I asked her to take it out and I immediately recognized that she'd probably downgraded her phone at a pawn shop, it was a beat-up old model barely above a flip phone. I gave her my number. "Call me the next time you need groceries, Okay?" I said. "Or if there's an emergency. Seriously, Mary." "I applied for food stamps, and welfare, but I haven't heard anything back," she said pitifully, like she was trying to explain her shitty situation. There wasn't any explaining. "The system is probably overloaded," I said softly. "Mary. I'm not pulling your leg. Go get groceries for you and your kids. I'll figure something out for you for next week, Okay?" "Harri, I can't just; I don't want to,” It was fucking stupid, but this woman who I remembered as that sweet girl was broken. I stood up and went to her, and pulled her to her feet and hugged her. She was tiny, and bony, in my arms. She'd probably been feeding her kids everything she could and taking the bare minimum for herself. "Stop," I said quietly as I held her, and she cried a little again. "You're doing what you can in a terrible situation, Mary. I'm doing Okay. Let me help." "Thank you," she whispered into my shirt, then sniffed behind her mask again and stepped away. 'Thank you, Harri." "Text me," I reminded her. "So that I have your number." "I will," she nodded. "I will." She left, headed towards the line outside the store, and I watched her go. Hopefully I wasn't going to pay for that moment of kindness with my life. But what was the point of being vaccinated and wealthy if I couldn't help a hurting woman? I sat back on the gate of my truck and saw the two big paper bags holding the meat I'd just bought. Hundreds of dollars' worth. I could have given her some, along with the cash. One of the chickens and some of the sausages. Kids liked sausage, right? Then I could practically hear my Mom's voice in the back of my mind. She'd been the giver in the family before she died. The volunteer. And she'd always said that you couldn't do your best for others without taking care of your family first. Seventy dollars would carry Mary and her kids for a few days at least. I could set up an account with Mason, connect her with Mrs. Branston for eggs, and cover her bill. I doubted I could do the same at the grocery store, but meat was always the most expensive part of meals anyways. I could drop a couple hundred bucks with her to help cover her other staples every few weeks. I looked down at my sweater, hoping again that I wasn't going to pay for this with sickness and death. What did those docs say? Eighty per cent effective, with more for each partner? I had three partners now, so I had to be like ninety per cent covered, right? The rest of my wait in the parking lot, unfortunately, wasn't peaceful. A guy with some parking lot road rage pounded on his horn at a woman who was loading her car. A half dozen teens skated through on skateboards, whooping and hollering and skirting by too close to people. None of them were wearing masks, and I saw a few of them spitting near people or fake coughing just to get a reaction out of them. I was trying to decide if I should call the emergency line, but they were gone as quickly as they arrived. Teens, rebellious and angry at the world, and most importantly bored and left to their own devices. Thankfully since I'd parked at the back of the lot they didn't really come near me. I did end up calling 911 when the fight broke out though. Two women were yelling at each other as they exited the store, both of them with full carts. I had no idea what they were shouting, but they definitely got the attention of everyone in the parking lot and the line. Then one lady pivoted and smacked her buggy into the other lady, and that one grabbed something out of the other's cart and threw it. "911 Emergency Services. Where is the emergency located?" "Yeah, I'm at the Green Grocer in Jewell," I said. "My name is Harrison Black. I need police services, a fight has broken out between two women in the parking lot and it's gotten physical." I could hear typing on the other end of the line. "I've dispatched a cruiser, sir, but the arrival time is at least twenty minutes. Is anyone's life in danger?" "Other than the pandemic?" I sighed. The women were grappled at this point, both of them trying to throw punches. "Hard to say. Neither of them are backing down and they've got a hold of each other and are swinging." "If you can, try to keep anyone else from getting involved, sir," the operator said. "And remember to keep your distance." "Fuck," I said as one of the ladies connected cleanly with the nose of the other. Blood started streaming down that one's face but it didn't stop her from clawing at the other with a snarl. "It's getting worse. There's blood now. Look, I'm not saying you have the authority to let me do this, but I've got my handgun in the truck and could pop one into the ground to spook them and try and disperse the issue." There was a long moment of silence on the other end of the line. "..... I mean, I'm not going to tell you to do that.... But..." "Understood," I said. I gave the operator my number, since I was sure the police were going to want to follow up with me, and then slammed the gate of my truck closed and went to the passenger side. Dani had returned the 1911 to its case thankfully, so I quickly slammed the magazine home and did a quick check to see it had one chambered before walking across the parking lot with the pistol held low and to the side. The women were scrapping on the ground at this point. A crowd had formed, not so close to each other to be shoulder to shoulder, but closer than they should have been. "Hey!" I shouted over the noise in my best military voice, but only the closest few people glanced over at me. One saw my gun and his eyes went wide. I sighed and shook my head, then pointed the muzzle at one of the little end-row barriers that had a sprig of a garden inside the concrete curb and pulled the trigger. The loud popping boom of the discharge quieted everyone real quick, including the fighting ladies as they all looked over at me. "Get the fuck out of here," I shouted. People scattered, including the two fighting ladies as they scrambled to recover their carts. I was pretty sure several items had gone missing from their shopping bags in the ruckus, claimed by other people who felt they needed them more. I just shook my head as I flipped the safety on and tucked the 1911 into the pocket on the front of my sweater. There were still a few people in line at the front of the store, along with an employee monitoring it, so I went over. It turned out to be the same teen as that time I'd been here with Erica and almost gotten in a fight myself. I gave him my name and let him know the police were already on their way. He said it wasn't the first fistfight he'd seen break out this week, let alone in the last month. "Kid," I said. "This job ain't worth your life." He shrugged. "I'm saving for college, and the bonus pay I'm getting as a front-line worker is adding up quickly." "College ain't worth your life either. Just saying." Dani and Vanessa came out of the store a little while later. I'd already returned the 1911 to its case and was sitting on the tailgate of my truck again. I explained to them what happened, both with Mary and with the fight. And I admitted to hugging Mary despite the danger. "I can walk home from here," I said. "We probably shouldn't get into the truck together. I'll need to,” "Harri," Vanessa interrupted me. "Shut up and get in the car. You're not in any danger, right? You're vaccinated. We're both vaccinated." "Yeah, but you are way less covered than the rest of us," I said. "It's not a big deal. It'll take a couple of hours of walking." Vanessa took it into her own hands and practically tackled me. "Oops, too late." "Vanessa!" I said in a panic and looked at Dani for help. "Lady made her decision," Dani shrugged. "We can either live in fear of it, or just do our best." So I ended up driving again, praying that Mary wasn't sick, which would mean I wasn't carrying it. I felt like an idiot all over again for hugging her, for risking everything to comfort her. But then I'd also seen that look on her face and I knew she'd needed it. Our last stop of the trip was Mrs. Branston's, but when I pulled into the front of her long gravel driveway I noticed that she hadn't put the flat of eggs I'd asked for in the usual spot. Frowning, I pulled out my phone and called her, but it went to voicemail immediately. "That's weird," I said. "Mrs. Branston is always home." "You want to go check on her, don't you," Vanessa said, not really a question. "Well, she's seventy and lives alone," I said. "She's not exactly ancient, but she's no spring chicken either." "Alright, let's go see what's up," Dani said. Then turned to Vanessa. "You're staying here though." "What?" Vanessa said. "Why?" "Because you already took one risk today, and I'm starting to like you too much to let you do two in a day," Dani smirked, then pulled up her mask. "Ugh, fine," Vanessa sighed. "Crack the windows for me at least." I did her one better and left the truck running with the AC on. Dani and I walked up the drive. It was long, but nowhere near as long as mine had been. The Branston's had built their house almost forty years ago; Victor Branston had worked at the local lumber mill, and his wife Hailey had started their side business of raising chickens and eggs after they built their single-story ranch house and barn. They'd had a son who had died in a drunk driving accident when I was still a kid, and a daughter who had moved away when I was still in middle school. At the top of the drive I tried calling again, and with no answer, Dani and I went to the front door and I knocked, then stepped back. "Mrs. Branston!" I called loudly. "You home?" Again, no answer. Shaking my head, I frowned beneath my mask and furrowed my brow. Her car was parked in front of the house, so she wasn't out. "Let's check in some windows," Dani suggested. "If she fell and broke her hip or something she might not be able to reach her phone." So that's what we did. It felt rude, peeking in her windows like that, but I let the MP side of me take over. I was looking into her kitchen when Dani gasped and motioned me to the other end of the side of the house. She was holding a gloved hand over her mask. I rushed over and looked in. It was Mrs. Branston's bedroom, and she was lying in the bed completely still. There was a dark stain around her mouth and nose and on the edge of some of the sheets. I recognized the dried blood. It looked like she'd been coughing it up. "Fuck," I sighed, stepping back from the window. Her sallow skin. Her sunken eyes. It was haunting. I called Emergency Services for the second time in less than an hour and reported it. "What do we do now?" Dani asked. "I'd say call her family, but I don't know her daughter's number. I think Mrs. Branston said she moved out east somewhere," I said. "We'll need to leave that to the police. Other than that?" I shrugged and looked around at the property. Hailey Branston had lived here going on forty years. Now there was no one. My eyes settled on the barn. "If nothing else, we should feed the chickens," I said. "No need for them to starve to death." "Good idea," Dani nodded and followed me towards the barn. Now, my worry had been that the chickens might be dead. I really wasn't sure how long it would take for chickens to starve to death, so I was preparing myself for the stink of not only a chicken coop but of dead bodies. What I wasn't prepared for was for the place to be empty. "What the fuck?" "This is weird," Dani said, looking at the rows and rows of empty cages. It was obvious this was a chicken operation. Just the bird poo around was enough to point to that. But there weren't any chickens. "How do fifty chickens just up and vanish?" I asked, wandering deeper into the barn. "It's not just the chickens," Dani said behind me. She was standing at a big bin near the front door with a big 'feed' label on it. She'd lifted the lid. "All their food is gone too except for a bit of mess at the bottom." I just shook my head, frowning as I looked around. Maybe there was some sort of metaphor here about Haily Branston's life, but all I was seeing was a crime scene. "Who the fuck finds out an old woman is dead, and instead of reporting it they steal all her chickens?" "An asshole," Dani said. "Assholes," I corrected. "This would have taken forever if it was just one person. There had to be at least two, probably more." I sighed. "Alright, we need to get out of here. We'll report it to the police when they get here." Dani and I went back down to Vanessa, filling her in on what we'd seen, and then waited. Thirty minutes later I called Emergency Services again on the non-emergency line, asking for an update on when we could expect someone to come out. "I'm sorry sir, but all our services are currently dispatched at the moment with active issues," the operator said. "We've got your report on file, and an ambulance will be dispatched when police are available. We have your name and number on file, we don't need you to stay on location." That was definitely not the norm for someone calling in a dead body, and it made me worried. "Alright," I said. "I just need to add something to the report then. After my previous call we checked in on Mrs. Branston's agricultural livestock. Someone has stolen all her chickens." "I'm... sorry?" the operator said. "Someone stole fifty-odd chickens," I clarified. There was another long moment of quiet from the other end of the line. "Chickens?" "Yeah, chickens," I said. A long sigh. "Alright, I added it to the report. Have a good day, sir." "You,” the operator hung up. "-too." "That sounded like it went great," Vanessa said sarcastically. "Yeah," I said, wondering what the fuck was happening to my home town. "I can't say that it did." Vanessa came jogging down from the office portables when the black sedan came rolling around the bunkhouses. After we'd gotten back from our big run, and Erica had berated me for taking a risk with Mary even while telling me how sweet a man I was, things had settled down. Leo's new partners had slept through the day with their imprinting, but we'd grilled up some extra sausages in case they woke up in the night and were hungry. I'd spent some time late in the afternoon with Ivy, and that night I'd slept with Vanessa on one side of me, and Ivy on the other while Erica spooned up behind her and rested a hand on my chest. We'd all been naked, but nothing overtly sexual had happened Vanessa had gone back to work in the morning, the first to wake up, and as she got ready and dug through her luggage Erica got up and made her coffee. The smell woke me up, and I realized it was 5:30 in the morning. It looked like our schedule was going to be changing with Vanessa in our lives. Breakfast was a quiet affair later in the morning; at least, quiet for us. Leo's RV was visibly rocking, and I had to assume Aria and India were up and the four of them were getting better acquainted. By the time Vanessa came back around for her breakfast break I'd already come in Erica, but Ivy had held off; apparently, the three of them had talked, and Vanessa only had about fifteen minutes for her breakfast break which meant a quicker-than-usual blowjob was necessary if she wanted some fun with her food. By mid-morning things had quieted down over at Leo's RV, and I'd left a platter of food wrapped with tinfoil on a chair next to the door. Ivy was just starting to get handsy with me, sitting on my lap and giggling with that look in her eye, distracting me from my drawing, when the crunch of tires outside the compound perked us up. The sedan ground to a halt, and Vanessa quickly came down to stand with Erica and Ivy and me. Agent Sourpuss was the driver again, and she just narrowed her eyes at us for a moment before turning back and speaking into the back seat. The door opened, and a woman in that same hooded coverall getup stepped out. "Hi," I said, stepping forward and offering her my hand. "I'm Harrison." "Kyla," she said through her mask, taking my hand and shaking it lightly. "I'm not really sure what you were expecting," I said. "I know things are weird and changing a lot for everyone, so if anything sounds like a problem just let us know and we can figure it out. The first of which is that, ah, these are my partners Erica, Ivy and Vanessa." "Allo!" Ivy said, stepping forward and wrapping the woman up in a hug. Ivy was still the shortest and most petite of the women, with Kyla standing around the same height as Vanessa. "Hi," Erica said, smiling warmly but not stepping forward, which I knew was because she knew the secret. In any other circumstance she likely would have been trying as hard as Ivy to be welcoming in an effort to dispel the weirdness. Agent Sourpuss rolled down the window. "Hey, you need to stop being so touchy. Protocol says you need to imprint as soon as possible." I sighed, glaring at her a little. "I hear you. Let's just make sure this is all Okay with her, yeah?" I turned back to Kyla, whose eyes were a little wide as she cautiously accepted the hug from Ivy. "Um, hello," she said, looking around at the construction site, and our ridiculous-looking compound. "There's a lot for us to explain," I said. "I can see that," she said. The more she talked, the more I heard a slight accent. It wasn't strong, not like Dani's, and I had to assume being the daughter of an Ambassador meant she'd grown up at least part of her life in the US or other places. Not to mention any training she'd received. "Are you Okay with this?" Erica asked her. "The idea of sharing space with a group of us?" "For what it's worth, I'm the newest and stumbled into it by accident, but it works for me," Vanessa chipped in. Kyla looked around again, then back at Sourpuss, and finally back to me. "It's the way things are," she said. "I can make it work." "Well, if you change your mind, you have until we start the imprinting process," I said. "Just say something and we can try to find you someone, or somewhere, else." She shook her head, then turned to Sourpuss again. "You can go." "Fine by me," the Agent muttered, raising her window and pulling the car away. I was almost sure I heard her mutter something about never wanting to come back again. "Come in," Erica said, gesturing to the fabric-draped entryway. "We'll show you around and can tell you what's up." Kyla followed Erica and Ivy in, but Vanessa hung back. "I need to get back to work," she said. "I'll come meet her later if you haven't dicked her down yet." I snorted and shook my head at her crassness. The only people who could get close to matching military folks in that way turned out to be construction workers. "Everything going Okay?" I asked. "Yeah, it's fine. Just getting the animals back in order after being away. They're going to be moving workers into the bunkhouses in the next few days so there's a lot to get ready," she said. She reached over and squeezed my hand for a second, but didn't step in for a kiss even though I could see her glance at my lips. "See you later?" "Absolutely," I said, and she started marching back towards the office portables. When I ducked back into our compound, Erica and Ivy had arranged the deck chairs into a semi-circle and Ivy was coming out of our place with a quartet of beers from the fridge. Erica was just gesturing for Kyla to take a seat. "We're all vaccinated," she was saying. "So if you want to get out of that getup you can." Kyla sat and sighed, lowering her hood and then taking off her medical mask. She was gorgeous. Her hair was a natural silky black with that smooth quality that Native Americans and East Asian folks shared, and she had cute little apple cheeks when she smiled softly in thanks as she accepted a beer from Ivy. Her skin was naturally tan, and she'd done her makeup to accent her ethnicity a bit rather than downplaying it, and knowing what I knew about her I wondered if that was a move to try and distract or seduce me. She had espionage training. She knew how to use her assets. "So Harrison," she nodded to me, then pointed at Ivy. "Ivy, and..." she looked at Erica. "Sorry, something with an E, right?" "Erica," my girlfriend clarified for her with a smile. "Right, Erica," Kyla said. "And the other was Vanessa?" "Right," I nodded. "Vanessa is actually a forewoman with the construction crews, so she had to get back to work." "Okay," she nodded. "And you all live in these trailers?" "RVs," I said. "And it's just temporary. My family owned this land for generations, and recently the government leased it from me and is building a residential compound. We'll be getting a house, and for now we've got these luxury RVs. But, uh, we're actually only living in that one. The other one is occupied by my friend and Erica's brother Leo and his partners." "So there's going to be five of us in there?" Kyla asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked over the RV. "Yes," Ivy said with a smile. "It's very nice on the inside. And the bed is very cozy." "The bed?" Kyla said, emphasizing the singular. "That's, uh, another thing," I said. "This is a little rude but, well Erica, Ivy and Vanessa are all bisexual. Are you;?" "I'm straight," she said. Erica just nodded, though I could tell out of the corner of my eye that Ivy was a little disappointed but tried to hide it. "That's perfectly fine," I said. "We'll figure out a sleeping arrangement so that you're comfortable." "I,” Kyla started, then glanced at Erica and Ivy for a moment and seemed to change her mind. "Look, I'm stepping into your thing here already, so I don't want to be a bitch. But could I just... Could I talk for a moment with the guy who I'm going to be bonding DNA with or whatever?" "Yes, absolutely," Erica said. "Do you want to go inside, or should we?" Kyla glanced over at Leo's RV. "Maybe we should," she said and stood up. I stood as well, patted Ivy's shoulder and met a glance from Erica as she tried to warn me to be careful without saying anything. Kyla and I went to the RV, and I opened the door for her and followed her in. "Sorry about the mess," I said. "Vanessa just moved in yesterday and we're trying to figure out what to keep here, and what to move into the storage containers." "It's... fine," Kyla said. She was looking down the length of the RV, through the open door to the bed. I could only imagine what she was thinking. "Let's just sit here," I said, offering her the bench as I took the chair by the Murphey table. I wasn't going to mention that we used the bench for fucking almost as much as the bed. "Ask me anything," I said as we sat. "I know this is all weird, and you must have a thousand questions and concerns." "I do," she said, and leaned back on the leather bench and took a deep breath. I just met her eyes as she looked me over again. Then she took a swig of her beer. "What do you do for money? How does all of this work?" she asked. "Well, up until a few weeks ago, my family house was about fifty yards that way," I pointed. "Right where that first big bunkhouse building is. I worked remotely as a concept artist, and Erica's brother Leo was my roommate. Erica joined us out here for quarantine. The federal government came and wanted to buy my land, but I negotiated a lease with them instead and they paid me a lot of money for it, along with building me, Leo and my sister houses. So if you're worried about finances living out here, you don't need to. I'm not stingy, though I'd prefer if we don't get super extravagant. I'd rather us be wealthy for a long time than super-rich for a short one, and with five people on the team... Well, yeah." "The team?" she asked. "It feels a little weird to call it a family right now," I said. "What with all the changes happening so fast. I think that's how most of us will end up, but I don't want to presume anything." She frowned, looking me up and down again. When she got that look on her face she was fierce and calculating. Focused. Then it broke and she cocked her head to the side just a touch. "Did they tell you I was coming?" "Um, yeah," I nodded. "I got a warning yesterday that you'd be here sometime in the next couple of days." She nodded slowly. "Okay. I mean, obviously we'll need to figure some things out, but I think I can live with... this. I'd like to wait a day and get to know you all a bit more before we do the imprinting though. I'm not really a 'sleep with a guy on the first day' kind of girl." "I'd be happy to wait as long as you like," I said. "But, ah, you may want to talk with the others about that feeling you've got. Apparently, it'll just keep getting stronger." "Right," Kyla nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll keep that in mind." Voices rose outside. Not angry, just a little animated. "Sounds like Leo and his girls are finally coming outside," I said. "I think you'll like Danielle, she's a pretty open book. I can't make any promises about the two new women though, they arrived yesterday and I haven't had a chance to meet them properly." "That sounds good," she said. "Any other questions, or do you want to go meet them?" I asked. "Um, yeah, actually," she said. She was still giving me a slightly weird, considering look. "Do you know?" "Know what?" I asked, trying to poker face without poker facing. She kept eyeing me. "Who I am." I sighed a little. "I was told that you're the daughter of an Ambassador," I said, covering the big lie with a little truth. "Does that bother you?" she asked. "Why would it?" I replied. "I'm part Native, part Japanese, I travelled a decent chunk of the world when I was in the military. In the US, you growing up in another country is about as different as if you grew up in an east coast city." "That's not what I meant," Kyla said, sitting forward and leaning her elbows on her knees, staring right at me. "I meant does it bother you that I'm a spy?" The problem with going toe to toe with a spy was that all of my usual methods of evaluating someone were already going off. As a teen I'd been a bit of a hillbilly, I'd been an athlete, and I'd been a kid from a family with generational grudge issues. Then I'd joined the military and I learned about professional backstabbing and politics, and then I'd become an MP and really saw some of the dumb and vile crap that Man could do to each other. I'd been trained to be aware, alert, and suspicious. Seven years out of the military had softened me, I was sure. But not that much. Maybe Grierson shouldn't have told me about Kyla's background. I was trying my best to not be suspicious, which I bet if I saw myself back on a recording I would have seen as a red flag. If I hadn't known about her, I could have just accepted her and hopefully my natural and trained instincts would have picked up on anything fishy. I sighed a little huff of a chuckle and leaned back in the Murphey chair, looking at Kyla across the RV. I'd been doing my best not to just really stare at her, to make a judgement scan of her to really assess her. Maybe that gave me away. Maybe not. She was beautiful, but I'd already judged that. Her Filipino heritage was strong, but wasn't so different from the natives that I'd grown up around that it seemed out of place or exotic to me. Not to mention the plenty of varied Asians I'd lived around in Portland. She was still wearing the bulky coverall so it was hard to judge her athleticism, but just the way she sat told me she was a physical person. She was sitting on the bench, which wasn't particularly tall, but her feet were pressed to the ground by the balls of her feet and toes, her heels raised. Even though she was leaning forward with her elbows on her knees she also wasn't slouching at all. She was a coiled spring, but with a loose tension. She wasn't on edge, but was a calmly controlled nervous. "It does," I said, answering the question she'd stunned me with for a moment. 'Does it bother you that I'm a spy?' Who asked that? Was it a game, or a test? Was she trying to be truthful because of the situation, or was she running a long con to gain my trust to inevitably betray me? How calculated was this move, and what were the variables? Was it a move at all? "But not the way you might think," I continued. "It's funny, I don't even know how much they told you about me. I think I mentioned outside that I was in the military at one point. I was an MP before I was discharged. You are exactly the kind of person I would have been worried about for an important part of my life. But now? Honestly, Kyla, I just don't want you to fuck up the family dynamic we're trying to build here. I don't want you to put any of the people out there in danger, on purpose or by accident, if you plan on trying to do something for your father or NICA." She gave me a long look back, evaluating what I said. If we were sitting across from each other with a chessboard between us, or cards, I would have said she was trying to read if I was bluffing or not. But this wasn't a game, and there weren't stakes on the line, and I thankfully got the impression she wasn't trying to read me. At least, not like that. She was reading me, but she was trying to form her opinion of me, just like I was trying to with her. "Have you ever killed anyone?" she asked me. I pressed my lips together and nodded. "I didn't see as much combat as others, but I got in a few firefights," I said. "I had a few confirmed kills, and likely several more unconfirmed. And one of my investigations as an MP turned into a shootout with some human traffickers that ended... badly. Fuck, I haven't talked about that with anyone since I got out. I'd prefer you not bring it up with the girls, or Leo. Please." "I won't," she said quietly. "Have you?" I asked. "No," she shook her. "I mean, I have enough training that I could, but that wasn't ever supposed to be my job. I; I'd rather maybe talk about my story if I get more comfortable with you, but I've never carried more than a knife and a can of mace in my purse for self-protection and haven't ever needed to use either of them." "Does it bother you that I know?" I asked her. "I feel like it should, but I don't think it does," Kyla said, pursing her lips a little in thought after she said it. "I just spent the last four years living a secret life, but I've always lived a double life. You know, which means... I don't know what it means. Which is a first." "I told Erica," I said. "I wasn't supposed to, I don't think, but she can read me like a book and I didn't want to keep it from her anyways." Kyla smiled a little. "I could tell," she said. "I only picked up on little things from you because of the way she was acting." That made me chuckle a little. "Well, at least that's something. I'm not a complete waste." "So what now?" she asked. "You know that I know that you know. Do we need to set some ground rules or anything?"

Oh dear! Willow is ... well ... scary! She's very, very scary! For some reason, taking a break from Wiley and Amelia has really messed her up. Baffling. Anyway, she is hellbent on getting back together with those kids! She could care less about Nina and Drew! But will she get to see the children? Will she spin them around like she did Daisy? That might be fun to watch. And poor Scout! She's back to having just the one very, very mediocre parent. Willow could steal her! Or trade her for Wiley! Also, Kristina is still kind of a mess.  #mauricebenard  #kellythiebaud #rogerhowarth #maurawest #steveburton #delirious #barshampoo #daydrinkingwithsethmeyers #hillstreetblues #kinshriner  #nicholaschavez #afterlife #rickygervais #hallandoates #superstore #freaksandgeeks #freefallin #alanarkin #newgirl #lamornemorris #colonoscopy #takethenap #alleymills #billylibby #chickadee #fortgorgeous #robertgossett #daydrinkingwithsethmeyers #marcuscoloma #useastaplegun #riptwitch #ripepiphany #ripsonyaeddy  #waywardchickadee #barshampoo #ripmiffy #lovedogs #justinebateman #brookeshields #neilgaiman #dnice #cq #deborahcox #malcolmjamalwarner #lume #godzillaminusone #ripjacklynzeman #jasonmomoa #adambelanoff #thecloser #majorcrimes #wings #murphybrown #thecosbyshow #pinkalicious #ripbillymiller #ripmatthewperry #riptylerchristopher #riplesliecharleson #ripandrebraugher #ripjohnnywactor #dutchbarnvodka #chadduell #rickygervaisrobot #colinfromaccounts

Eighty years ago, on July 28, 1945, an Army bomber pilot on a routine ferry mission found himself lost in the fog over Manhattan. A dictation machine in a nearby office happened to capture the sound of the plane as it hit the Empire State Building at the 79th floor.Fourteen people were killed. Debris from the plane severed the cables of an elevator, which fell 79 stories with a young woman inside. She survived. The crash prompted new legislation that—for the first time—gave citizens the right to sue the federal government. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices

In this episode, the crew discusses the rising costs of living in today's "Labubu world," exploring how inflation, lifestyle choices, and shifting economic trends are making everyday expenses feel more overwhelming. We discuss the challenges of balancing personal finances, maintaining a sense of normalcy, and navigating the pressures of a pricey reality. Tune in for expert tips on staying financially savvy and navigating the high costs of modern life.Wait, what's a Financial Griot?The Financial Griot is a play on two words (Finance + Griot) that hold significance in closing the wealth gap while embracing our differences. Alainta Alcin, Lovely Merdelus, and Lawrence Delva-Gonzalez share their perspectives on current events that impact your personal finances and wealth mindset. In the New York Times, Bankrate, and other publications, the hosts share the stories that others don't. Stories about growth, opportunity, and even Wars. Beyond that, we tie it back to how it reflects on your finances. Specifically, we teach you how to become financially literate, incorporate actionable steps, and ultimately build generational wealth.Can you imagine being a Millionaire in 20 years or less?Yeah, it's possible. Eighty percent of millionaires are first-generation, meaning they didn't inherit wealth. We teach you how. Join a community of subscribers who welcome a fresh take on money.So there you have it, The Financial Griot, or TFG for short. The hosts amassed over $3 million in wealth in about eight years and are on track to retire early. We will gladly share the secrets if you want them, since the opportunity is abundant and a Win-Win.Find the TFG Crew Hosts on Instagram: Alainta Alcin - Blogger, Travel and Money Enthusiast https://www.linkedin.com/in/alaintaalcinLawrence Delva-Gonzalez, Financial Foodie and Travel Blogger@theneighborhoodfinanceguyLovely Merdelus - Entrepreneur and Small Business Growth Specialist @lovelymerdelus

Quaranteam-Northwest: Part 4 The House. Based on a post by Break The Bar. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. The pounding on the front door echoed through the house again, and I literally fell out of the bed trying to disentangle my foot from the mess of the sheets. Erica and I had stumbled inside late as fuck, trying to be quiet and not wake up Leo and Dani, and now I could see we'd tracked in dirt and grass with us. The sheets were filthy. I got shorts on and stood, shaking Erica by the shoulder. "What?" she groaned. "Someone is at the door, and it's sun up. The worker might need to start working. I'll close the door and give you as much time as I can, but could you at least put on a top in case anyone pops in here by accident?" "Let 'em look," Erica grunted. "What happened to those being my tits, and mine alone?" I grinned. "..... Fine," she said and held up a hand in the air. I found her a shirt and put it in her hand, and she started trying to get it on without lifting her head from the pillow or opening her eyes. I shut the bedroom door behind me and met up with Leo in the hallway; he was only slightly more dressed than I was, with a single sock and an undershirt over his shorts. "Mornin'" he grunted. "Yep," I said, and we headed for the door. When I opened it I was expecting Vanessa and her big 'gorilla' work crew, but instead it was Agent Sourpuss. It was even earlier in the day than I had expected. "What took you two so long?" she said, sneering at the two of us. "Never mind, come with me." She started walking around the house, so Leo and I followed barefoot. Just as we were stepping out and shutting the front door, the crew vans started pulling in, ferrying the surveyors and workers. A few of them called and waved, taunting us for looking like we were getting called to the Principal's office. "We have solved the temporary housing issue for you two," Agent Sourpuss said as we rounded the corner, and she presented us with the new additions to the backyard. Hunkered up next to the two sea cans that all of our stuff was being loaded into for storage were two brand new, state-of-the-art, still gleaming chrome and white from the lot, RVs. The two fuckers were huge. I had no idea how anyone other than an 18-wheeler truck driver could pilot one of them. They had to be worth at least a couple hundred thousand dollars each. "God damn," I said, coming awake. "One for each of us?" Leo asked. "You and your partners," the Agent said. "Follow me." We did, crossing the backyard as the Agent told us that we would need to be ready to move them at a moment's notice; our presence couldn't be allowed to slow down the construction process. We were also in charge of maintaining them, and organizing with the construction general manager when they arrived on site to make sure they were getting properly emptied (the septic) and filled (the fuel). "Mr. Lacoste, you have the one on the left," the Agent said, handing a set of keys to Leo. He actually giggled with glee, taking the keys and darting to his new home. "Mr. Black, yours is clearly the right. As is your new partner waiting for you inside," she said. I blinked. "I'm sorry, what?" "Your second partner drove with us this morning. She's waiting inside for you and is ready for imprinting. I suggest not making her wait too long." Agent Sourpuss then began to walk away, back to her car at the front of the house. "Wait, wait, wait," I said, following her. "I already have a partner. Erica and I are bonded or whatever." "Not how it works, Mr. Black," the Agent said, still walking. "You're rated at Tier Four, and you must have been somewhat open to a non-monogamous relationship, as is Miss Lacoste. Your new partner is suited to the two of you. You shouldn't keep her waiting." There wasn't any stopping her, so I diverted and headed back into the house. "Erica!" I called, heading for the stairs. "What?" she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes but coming out of my room dressed in my shirt from last night, and a pair of her shorts. "The Agent just dropped off the big ass RVs we're living in," I said. "And a woman who I'm supposed to bond with." "Oh, shit. That was fast," she said. "What do you mean, that was fast?" I asked. "You knew about this?" "I mean, they said at the information seminar that it was possible people would begin getting partnered into existing relationships based on the matchmaking and available matches," Erica said. We were heading down the stairs again. "I assumed since I'm Bi, and you're a guy, it wouldn't be unlikely we'd get someone else eventually. I didn't think it would be day three, obviously. Why would this person pick us over a single guy?" We got outside and to the RV, and I knocked. "It's open," called a voice. It was light and feminine, but with a distinct accent. I opened the door and mounted the steps, stopping when I saw the woman within, only for Erica to push me the rest of the way up so she could see as well. She was dark blonde, almost brunette, and her hair hung in waves down just past her shoulders. The woman was slight, and obviously so because all she was wearing was lingerie made up of thin mesh through which I could see her rosy pink nipples on her smallish tits, and lots of buckles for straps. The right side of her body was fresh and clean, though down the center of her abdomen, from under her chin all the way to her pubic mound, was a thin black line of a tattoo splitting her in half. On the left side of that tattoo her body was designed with black ink in floral tribal patterns, fleur-de-lis motifs and other designs. She was smiling demurely despite her dress and the fact that she was lounging in the sitting area of the RV, her legs splayed as she absently rubbed her twat through her mesh thong. "Bonjour," she said, grinning even brighter as Erica followed me in. Her accent was distinctly French Canadian and she couldn't be older than twenty-three. "My name is Ivy Gauthier, and I was expecting just a cock, but I am more than happy to make Mommy happy too if she wants to sit on my face." "Fuck," Erica said, and looked at me. "Can we keep her?" Ivy Erica, as usual, took to the rapidly changing social situation a little faster than I did. "So you're sure about all of this?" she asked the girl, Ivy. We were sitting in the lounge area of the RV that the government had delivered to us that morning. "Well, it is too late for me to back out now," Ivy said. She was French Canadian, with that very specific Quebecois accent that extended vowels and clipped some consonants. I only really knew the difference between hers and a traditional French-from-France accent because I'd once drank with a unit of French soldiers while I was deployed in Germany. "I have already been poked with the needles. I chose Harrison because he reminded me of a sexy version of the boys I grew up with in the north of Quebec. Very sexy lumberjack, yes?" Erica smirked, glancing at me and patting my knee. "Yes, very sexy woodsman." "As I said, I was not expecting a sexy woman as well, but I am the bisexual," Ivy continued. "In fact, Erica, you are very much my type." "And what type is that?" Erica asked. Ivy grinned but blushed, biting her lip for a moment as if she were embarrassed, but I could see the hunger in her big, expressive eyes. "Most girls in my job, they have what you call the 'Daddy Issues', yes? Well, my father made many mistakes, but was always very good to my sister et moil. An ex I have, she said I have 'Mommy Issues' instead. I like strong women, older than me, with tits and ass like yours." The little minx actually reached out and caressed the side of Erica's tit when she said it. "What job is it you've been working?" I asked, though I had a feeling I knew the general field. "I am a dancer," Ivy said, turning back to me and looking all the world like a worried teenager, rather than the seductive woman clad in mesh lingerie that was sitting between Erica and me. "I hope that is not so bad to you, Harrison. I know some men, they think it means I am dirty or spoiled. But I am not." Then she got another little lascivious smirk as she tilted her chin down looking up at you through her lashes. "Well, I could also be a very dirty girl for the right man. Or woman." She touched Erica's leg without looking. "Okay, seriously Ivy," I said. "Unless this is really who you are, and who you want to be, you can tone down the seduction. Erica and I aren't going to turn you away, but you have got to be real with us." Ivy frowned, and it was like she went through a little transformation as she absorbed what I said and metabolized it. She bit the inside of her cheek for a moment, then nodded and stood up, crossed to the murphy table that was in the kitchenette and pulled a robe I hadn't even noticed from where it was hanging. She wrapped it around herself quickly and then sat back down. "I am sorry," she said. "I am; this vaccine is making me very horny. I did not know what to expect, yes? I thought it best to treat you like private clients." "Oh, sweetie," Erica sighed. "I know. The nervousness, that little itch all over?" Ivy nodded. "Maybe let's start from the beginning," I suggested. "Just be honest with us." "I was being honest," Ivy said. "My name is Ivy Gauthier, I was born in a little town in northern Quebec and raised by my father and grandmother, along with my sister. I am an exotic dancer. I started in Montreal, and decided to try and do a tour of the USA. My visa was running out when the Quarantine happened. They said it would not be a problem if I took the experimental vaccine." "Wait, hold on," I said. "Fuck. Would you have taken the vaccine if you weren't worried about your visa?" Ivy thought about it and then shrugged. "I don't know? Maybe? I never had to think about it without the visa on the table." "This is fucked up," I said. "And it's too late to change anything," Erica said. "Harri, you know it's too late." "I know," I grunted. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it." "And you know if it's not you, it'll be someone else." I took in a long breath and nodded. "Ivy, I assume you went through the whole set of meetings and videos that Erica did, but I just have to ask; are you absolutely sure you want this?" Ivy pursed her lips, looking between Erica and me. Her hands were in her lap, most of her tattoos covered by the worn, velvet red robe she was wearing. She looked younger and older at the same time. She ended up looking to Erica. "Is he a good man?" "The best," Erica said immediately. "And is she a good woman?" Ivy asked me. I took Erica's hand in mine. "Better than anyone could ever deserve." "Then I am fine with this," Ivy said. "It is the end of the world, oui? Why should I not be with two sexy people who love each other, and will share their bed with me?" Erica laughed. "Well, she's direct." "Alright. You know what the next steps are?" I asked Ivy. "You fuck me, and I will become your; how did they say.? Umm, bonded something?" "We haven't figured out the right word yet either," Erica said. "For now, it might be easiest if you're just our fuckbuddy." "I like this," Ivy said. "You two are a couple, and I will be your fuckbuddy." The way she said it made it sound a little sillier, a little naughtier. This girl would have been dangerous if Erica and I weren't in the current situation. "You have some time," I said. "Would you rather wait a bit, or do it now?" "Now," Ivy said. "I would very much like to taste you, Erica. While Harrison fucks my ass." "Wow, that's very hot and specific," Erica said. Ivy smiled. "I am what you would say is an 'Anal Queen.' My father, he had children with three different women. It made me afraid of pregnancy, so I learned as a girl to prefer it in my butt." "Well, I guess you're getting to crush some ass, babe," Erica said, smirking and then kissing me on the cheek. "Hey, you know what?" I asked. "However you want it, Ivy, I'm happy to provide. Is there anything else you'd like us to know before we go to the bed?" Ivy stood up, slipping the robe back off of her and hanging it back up. "I can be very loud," she said. "Just a warning. And I like many things, but this time, I think we keep it to a simple threesome, yes? I will suck cock and eat cunt, and I would very much like to be fingered, and fucked in the ass." "So simple," Erica chuckled. "Ivy, I think Harrison is still a little hesitant; he is a natural protector, so don't think he's timid. He's just worried and doesn't want to take advantage." "Oh," Ivy said, looking at me for a moment with a cocked head, taking my measure. "Now I; Okay, yes, I understand." She came forward and pushed me back by the shoulders until I was sitting fully upright on the cushioned bench seat instead of leaning forward. Then she crawled into my lap, on her knees with them outside my legs, and sat her perky bum on my legs. "Harrison, I have told you I think you are sexy, yes? Well here, I will prove it." She took my hand and brought my fingers to her lips, taking my pointer and middle fingers and sucking on them lewdly, then bringing them down between us to her crotch. She pulled the mesh panties aside and put my fingers against her hole and pivoted, taking my two thick fingers into her clenching cunt. "I want to fuck you. And I will tell you another thing about me; I like a man who takes me how he wants. Throw me on the bed, put my legs behind my head. Make me your little pretzel girl as you fuck my ass. I am sure I will love this 'big brother' you in time, too. But I need you first to be my man." Then she kissed me, grinding on my fingers. I breathed in through my nose, and she pressed her chest against mine, and I reached around her with the hand that wasn't busy at her cunt and grabbed her ass firmly. "Umm, yes," she mumbled into my mouth. "Like that." "God, I hope I didn't look that fucking horny when I kissed you that first time," Erica said. She was still sitting on the other end of the L-shaped bench from us, watching me get frenched by the little French minx who had just fallen into our lives. I pulled back from the kiss, and Ivy looked at me with concern, searching my face. "Go kiss Erica," I said. She grinned and slipped from my lap, my fingers leaving her cunt, and slid right onto Erica's lap and pulled my girlfriend into a hard kiss as their disproportionate tits pressed together. Erica was much bustier than Ivy, though the younger woman's figure was just as sexy. As they started to make out I stood up, walking to the back of the RV and surveying the space. The back of the vehicle was dominated by the bedroom, which had what looked like a bed that was too big for the space. I pulled the blanket and top sheet off of it, knowing how Erica had a tendency to leave wet spots after fucking, and then kicked off my boots and returned to the women. "Alright, come here," I said, and lifted Ivy off of Erica and tossed her over my shoulder so I was carrying her ass forward. She howled a laugh, kicking her legs, and I offered Erica my other hand up. "She is going to be a lot of fun," Erica said. "I know," I said. "But I need to ask you, too. Is this what you want?" Erica smiled, almost sadly, and shrugged. "I told you I'd introduce you to a lot of strippers. I just didn't know it would happen so fast. Like she said, it's the end of the world, at least as we know it. Why not?" I nodded, and then bounced Ivy on my shoulder and gave her a soft spank on the butt. "What are you giggling so hard for?" "Nothing," she said. "Everything." "Crazy French girl," I said, and carried her to the end of the RV and tossed her on the bed like she wanted. She landed and immediately twisted and turned, biting her lip as she positioned herself on her stomach, looking at me eagerly as she slowly kicked her legs and her little bum bounced, humping the air a little. "Oh, I think she wants to suck your cock," Erica said, coming up behind me and resting her cheek on my shoulder. She reached around my waist and started lowering my shorts. "Is that what you want, Ivy?" Ivy nodded, grinning. "Well, I've got a surprise for a naughty girl. You are very lucky, because you picked a man who happens to have a very nice, fat cock." Erica said, and dropped my shorts, letting my mostly-hard cock out. "Oh, fuck," Ivy said, her eyes going happily large. "It is a very good cock." She looked up at Erica. "May I please suck the very good cock?" "Good manners," Erica said. "Yes, Ivy, you may suck Harrison. But from now on you should call it his fat cock." "Yes, mo" the rest of what she was saying became garbled as she leaned forward and spoke with the head of my cock between her lips, and came. She hadn't been expecting it, and her legs started to kick as she tensed up and pulled away from my cock, lowering her face to the bed. Then her body released all its tension and she sucked in a deep, ragged breath. "Woah!" she exhaled, loud and wordless, as a second wave of the orgasm passed through her. Erica reached around and ran her fingers through Ivy's hair as the smaller, younger woman rode a third and final wave of the vaccine-induced orgasm. She was left panting, and rolled over onto her back and looked back up at us in confusion and what looked like drunken delight. "What was that? I have never come so fast," she said in wonder "Didn't they tell you to expect that?" Erica asked. Ivy shook her head. "Huh, that's weird. They told my group," Erica said. "That was the imprinting process starting. Can you feel that ache, down in your clit? That's the vaccine too. Soon you'll feel it on your tongue, aching to get Harri's come anywhere you can inside you." "I already wanted this," Ivy said, her grin not slipping. She rolled back over onto her stomach and opened her mouth, but then hesitated. "Does this,” "No," I said, "Not every time." "Too bad, but also good," Ivy said. "It would be very hard to suck your cock if this happened every time." Then she took me back into her mouth and began bobbing her head quickly. I had a feeling she was actually a brunette and dyed her hair up to the dirty blonde she wore it. The dark undertones were more real than the light ones. Erica came around me now and slipped out of her shorts, going down to her panties and my shirt she'd been wearing, and got on her knees on the bed next to Ivy. She sat tall, and I kissed her as Ivy suckled on my cock. "Enjoy yourself, babe," Erica assured me. "We both want this." I raised an eyebrow and reached around her, grabbing her meatier ass. "You don't need to keep reassuring me, E. Or does 'mommy' need a good seeing to as well?" "Oh, I always need a good seeing to," Erica grinned. She started to lower down slowly, maintaining eye contact with me. "But first I think I need to make sure our naughty girl here knows how to treat you properly. Let me see you suck his cock, Ivy." Ivy beamed up at me, eyes flicking between my face and Erica's as the older woman leaned close. "Good, really slobber on that cock," Erica said softly, stroking Ivy's hair. "It's going to be cracking that cute little ass of yours open soon, so it needs to be very hard and very slippery." Ivy mumbled something unintelligible. "But don't forget his balls," Erica said. Ivy immediately took my cock from her mouth and lifted it with a hand, trying to take my sack between her lips but only fitting one nut as she tongued and worked her mouth. Erica took Ivy's place at my cock, putting her lips around the head and starting to blow me. "Oh, fuck, that's new," I groaned, looking down at both women staring up at me with smiles in their eyes. I put a hand on each of their heads. Ivy didn't let up, switching from one ball to the other as my cock rubbed across her face, but Erica popped off of the end and grinned at me before sliding back on the bed and taking up a position behind Ivy. "Now, what do we have here?" Erica asked, wrapping her fingers into the elastic band of Ivy's mesh panties. "Someone is a very naughty girl, dressing so slutty. Look, I can see everything! So what could possibly be the point of this?" She started pulling the panties down over Ivy's ass, and the younger woman shifted her hips eagerly, letting her do it. "Back to my cock now," I grunted, and Ivy followed my orders. Once I was back in her mouth, I ran my fingers down the side of her face, just watching as she looked up at me with adoringly needy eyes. Erica had gotten Ivy's panties off, and she tossed them aside as she knelt next to the pale girl and started to massage her upturned butt. "Ivy, you have a very cute ass," she said, stroking the girl's smooth skin. Just like her front, Ivy had a thin black line running down the middle of her spine, bisecting her from her hairline all the way down to her ass crack. On one side of the line her pale, smooth skin was flawless. On the other, she sported a collection of black tattoos; most of them flowery and nicely designed, a few of them more 'witchy' like flying crows and a jagged, leafless tree. "M'ank 'oo," Ivy mumbled around my cock, and wiggled her butt. Erica quickly sucked two fingers into her mouth and, biting the inside of her lip as she grinned, slipped them down between Ivy's legs and began slowly, teasingly fingering the younger woman's cunt. Ivy immediately responded by shuddering and starting to blow me faster, bobbing her head as she moaned with my cock in her mouth, pressing against the inside of her cheeks. "For a girl who prefers it in the ass, our naughty little girl gets very wet," Erica said to me. "Is that right?" I asked, and looked down at Ivy and her big eyes. "Do you get wet and ready for a cock even if you don't want one in that hole?" "Umm hmm," she hummed and nodded, then pulled her lips from my cock. "When I am ready, the right man will have a very good time with my naughty cunt." Erica leaned forward, bringing her lips to Ivy's ear from behind. "And what about Harrison? Is he the right man?" I could see the conflict warring in Ivy. She didn't know; her instincts were to shy away. But the vaccine, that need and horniness it had put in Erica, was in Ivy as well. She wanted me, wanted my cum. Wanted it inside her, to match with the vaccine. Chemically, she wanted to say yes. "You don't need to answer that," I told her reassuringly, stroking the side of her face again. Then I glanced at Erica, who raised an eyebrow at me, but I just shook my head. Ivy, a thankful look in her eyes, quickly went back to blowing me while Erica played with her cunt. Eventually I pulled away, and in one move picked up and flipped Ivy over onto her back. She giggled, and I was glad that she'd been honest with me about wanting to be thrown around in bed; I would have likely asked, or maybe told, her to move. Instead she seemed to really enjoy the manhandling. "Get the rest of the lingerie off," I said. The mesh bra did nothing to hide her perky, small boobs from me, but I wanted her naked. There was a practical element; once the bonding process was completed, she was going to zonk out and having that strappy lingerie on for hours and hours wouldn't be good for her or it. But there was also a primal thing in me that just wanted this strangely innocent, strangely filthy girl naked for me. She stripped quickly, and Erica took that time to peel off my shirt that she was wearing as well, revealing her bigger, heavy tits. "Oh, my," Ivy said, and sat up, reaching for Erica's chest. "You are so beautiful, Erica." Erica grinned and leaned forward a bit, allowing Ivy to press her face into Erica's cleavage. "She's like a horny teenage boy," Erica laughed. Ivy was kissing and licking her cleavage all over. "So am I, when it comes to you," I said, and slipped off the bed to stand behind her, kissing her on the cheek and then down to her neck while I reached around and cupped her tits from below, lifting them for Ivy to feast on. "Oh, god, this is heaven," Erica moaned, leaning her head back on my shoulder. "Have you ever done a threesome before?" I asked her quietly. "Once. Three women," she mumbled. "Not that great, really." "Too much fake cock?" I asked. "That, and tribbing is stupid. Doesn't do anything for me, and they both loved it." "Hear that, Ivy? No tribbing," I said. "But can I eat her cunt?" Ivy asked, coming up for air from the bounty of tits she was enjoying. "I think my answer is 'whenever you want,'" Erica laughed. "First I want more of your mouth," I said to Ivy. "Lay back down. And Erica, I'd love to see you eat her out." Erica grinned. "Ever seen a lesbian act in person before?" "Nothing more explicit than two drunk girls kissing to rile up some guys at a party," I said. Ivy had lain back, spreading her legs, and Erica knelt between them and slowly brought her face down to Ivy's bare cunt. It was pretty, almost like the clean and clinical specimen you would see in a biology textbook. "Do you want me to lick your cunt, Ivy?" Erica asked teasingly. "Yes, please," Ivy said and grabbed the bedspread in her fingers in anticipation. Erica went to work, and Ivy moaned loudly and wordlessly as her body tensed and then relaxed into the sensations. "Is it good," I asked. "Uh-huh," Ivy nodded and moaned. I knelt down next to her head and turned her face sideways, tapping my cock against her lips. She immediately opened them, and I slid between her lips and she began suckling. Then, after looking down and seeing the smile in Erica's eyes as she watched me getting blown while she ate cunt, I began to thrust lightly into Ivy's mouth. The dirty blonde dropped her jaw, and worked her tongue, and soon I was pumping steadily, treating her lips just roughly enough to feel divine. I reached down and palmed her tit, which so far had been almost entirely ignored. I happened to grab the tattooed side of her, where the boob itself was still a blank canvas but was surrounded by them dark patterns. Her nipple was a firm little nub in my palm, and her moaning on my cock changed to a higher pitch when I grabbed her more firmly, and then began playing with her nipple between my fingers. Erica, seeing the change in Ivy, mimicked me and reached up for her other tit and grabbed it as well. "Muh," Ivy moaned, but didn't try to pull away from my thrusting. She whined on my cock, thrusting her hips up and down, grinding against Erica's face. Then, seeing her coming to a peak, I thrust in and held my cock deep in her mouth, but not to the point of gagging her. I pinched the nipple I was holding, and Erica focused on her clit, and Ivy went off with a long shudder and another muffled howl. I pulled my cock from her mouth when she was coming down. "Keep going," I told Erica. "Get her there again." Then I stepped off of the bed and behind Erica, whose panty-clad ass was up in the air at the edge of the bed. I pulled her panties down to her thighs, set my cock against her puffy cunt, and thrust inside firmly, claiming her as mine again. "Yes, babe," Erica gasped into Ivy's cunt. "Fuck, yes, my fucking stud." "Oh, fuck," Ivy groaned, eyes half-closed as she grabbed at her own tits harshly and watched me fucking Erica from behind. Within five thrusts I was burying deep into my girlfriend at a good, steady pace. "You two are so fucking hot," Ivy said breathily, her accent turning every croon into a delightful sentence instead of something that might have come across as crude. I fucked Erica steadily, one hand on her hip and the other keeping hold of her wonderful ass, and she thrust back at me while trying to keep her lips and tongue working. I wanted Erica to feel how desirable I found her, even in this threesome with a brand new woman between us. I wanted her to know she wasn't just forced on me; she was a choice. She chose me, and I chose her back. Leaning forward, I let go of her waist and ass and grabbed her tits hanging below her, palming them and lifting their weight as she remained ass up and face down in Ivy's cunt. "I fucking love you, E," I said. "I love your body, I love your personality, and I love your mind. And right now, I really love how fucking sexual you are." "Fuck," Ivy groaned. "Fuck, that is so hot." Erica was starting to falter in her fucking back at me, which I knew meant she was getting close but I wanted to push her farther. "Ivy," I said. "It's almost time. How much prep does your ass need?" Ivy licked her lips, that carnal need growing inside of her with every passing minute. "For most guys, two fingers would be enough. But for you, I think three, if Mommy will do it for me?" "What do you think, 'mommy,'" I grinned. "Are you up for prepping her?" Erica slurped off of Ivy's cunt and flipped the girl onto her stomach, then spread her ass cheeks and spit onto her asshole. "For her, and to watch you fuck this cute little ass, absolutely," Erica said. I really couldn't see all that much of the oral portion of the prep, since I continued to fuck Erica. I slowed, and thrust deep and firm instead of faster and harder, and gave her the chance to work. Soon enough, Erica had two fingers in Ivy's ass and was adding a third. "Oh, mommy, yes," Ivy moaned. "Finger my ass. Spread my asshole for our man. God, I want that fat cock up my ass so badly. Harrison, please don't make me wait. Please don't back out, I need it so badly." "Who does this ass belong to now, Ivy?" Erica asked her. "Fuck, fuck," Ivy gasped. Erica slapped the side of her ass cheek. "Who does this ass belong to now, dirty little girl?" "Harrison," Ivy moaned. "Oh, fuck, Harrison. Fuck my ass. Take my ass. Take it. Take it." I pulled out of Erica, watching for just a moment as her cunt was split by me and didn't want to let go, then hopped back up on the bed. Erica pulled her fingers out of Ivy's hole, and I spun the younger woman around on the bed and pulled her up onto her hands and knees. Ivy dropped her face to the mattress as she reached back and held her ass cheeks open, her butthole winking at me. "Fuck my ass. Please, Butt fuck me. Own my butt," she panted. I placed my cock to her asshole and pressed forward. "Oh, fuck yes," Ivy almost howled. "Oh, it is so good. Merci, merci, oh fuck yes." I was halfway in when she finally clenched and I stopped. Erica, meanwhile, had shifted her seating on the bed so she was on her ass, and she spread her legs in front of Ivy's face. "Hey, now it's time for you to lick my cunt, dirty girl," she said. Ivy lifted her head and groaned as she tasted Erica for the first time, and as she did Ivy's ass relaxed, and I pushed in the rest of the way. "Yes," she mumbled. "Yes, fuck, so good. So full." I slowly pulled back out, then pushed back in. I'd tried anal before, once with a German girl I met off base, but it had been tough going. With Ivy, it was like she was just built different. She squeezed back at me, pushed to get me deeper. "She really is an Anal Queen," I gasped to Erica, who opened her eyes and grinned savagely at me. "I can't believe you're fucking her in the ass right now," she said. "Neither can I," I said, and started to properly thrust into that tight but forgiving asshole. "She's fucking good with her tongue, too," Erica groaned. "I can feel myself getting soaked." "Careful," I snickered. "There are the only sheets we have right now." "Oh, fuck off," Erica laughed. I had just started fucking into Ivy harder still, and she was sucking in deep breaths and moaning like a pornstar, when there was a loud banging on the main door of the RV. There was absolutely no way they couldn't hear what was happening in here, let alone that I had to assume the RV was rocking a bit. "Don't stop," Ivy gasped, lifting her face from Erica's cunt and begging me over her shoulder. "Please, keep fucking my ass. You can't stop. I need you to keep going." "Fuck, I was so close," Erica groaned, and the knocking happened again, banging on the door. Erica rolled off the bed. "You can't stop now, you might break her mind. I'll deal with this." "Yes, Harri, fuck me. So good, fuck my ass. Fuck my ass!" Ivy moaned, even fucking louder now that she didn't have Erica's cunt to muffle her. Erica stalked naked out into the main area of the RV, and she slipped on the robe that Ivy had been using earlier. She pulled it closed in the front and opened the door. "Hey, so this is awkward,” I could hear Vanessa say, but then I was shocked when instead of going outside to talk to her, Erica reached out and pulled her inside the RV. "Fuck, E! You didn't shut the door," I said. "Oh, shit. Sorry!" Erica called, and I only half believed her. There was one long moment of chaos where Vanessa was inside, looking down the length of the RV right at me as I was thrusting away, my nuts slapping against Ivy's cunt as I fucked her ass at speed. "Fuck," I grunted, and I made to pull out. "No, please, merde. Don't stop fucking my ass. Don't stop. Fuck my little ass. Come inside, I need you to come inside. Rempli-moi, mon homme. Mon cher. Fuck, mon amour!" I couldn't stop. I was so fucking close to coming, but I also had to move. So I did the only thing I could do; I wrapped my arms around Ivy's torso, fucked my cock as deep into her ass as I could, and picked her up and lifted her off of the bed. "Fuck, mon amour. I love you fucking my ass. Own my ass, mon amour. Fill me, fuck me," she babbled. I got us out of direct line of sight, pressing Ivy against the wall of the RV just next to the door to the bedroom, and I fumbled with one hand and slammed it shut as I kept thrusting into her. "Fuck. Fuck! I want you, I want it inside. Je veux croquer la pomme. Je suis très mouillée pour toi, mon amour. Fuck me. I love you?" she gasped the last words, like she was unsure, but enlightened by the idea. And then I came, pressing her up against the wood paneling and carpet of the RV walls. I came deep inside her ass, and she leaned back into me as her entire body shook. Her jaw was clenched tight, a small whine coming through almost like one of those dog whistles. "Sorry about that, Vanessa," I heard Erica talking through the walls. "We got a new vaccine partner who moved in with the RV. We were just, um, going through the bonding process." "That is; I mean, I'm sorry?" Vanessa mumbled. "It was obvious what was... happening, but we kind of need to get to work again. I wasn't expecting you to..." "That's totally my fault," Erica said. "I was a little fuck drunk; Harrison is very capable, and our new partner Ivy has a very skilled tongue." ".....Okay," Vanessa exhaled. That was when it felt more like I was holding Ivy up, rather than her standing on her own, and I carefully pulled my cock from her still-clenching butt and scooped her up in my arms. "Imprinting. Imprinting," she was mumbling. "Still fucking creepy," I grumbled, shaking my head as I looked at her in my arms. She was all woman, but like this I couldn't help but feel protective of the young woman who'd been forced into making choices that led her to my bed. The whole experience was amazing, but it was still... ugh. I set Ivy down on the bed and lay the sheet over her, and she curled up around a pillow and continued to mumble. This let me find and pull my shorts back on and exit the room. Erica was sitting on the murphy table, which she'd folded down, and Vanessa was sitting on the L-bench. "Vanessa, I am so sorry you got an eyeful of me like that," I said. "No, it's fine," Vanessa said, raising a hand. "You guys explained some of it last night, and Erica was just telling me again about the whole vaccine process and stuff. I didn't realize that's what this was and you couldn't, ah, interrupt the process." I nodded, and during the following brief conversation I apologized a couple more times. We quickly went through the plan for the day; which included finishing up all the rest of the moving out of the house so that it could be demolished the next morning. "And that's it," Vanessa nodded. "Uh, before I go; could I see her?" "You mean Ivy?" Erica asked. "Yeah," Vanessa said. "I mean, not if she's in a compromising position or whatever. But last night you and Leo talked about the 'imprinting' thing, and I'm probably going to have to do that eventually. I'd like to see it beforehand." I sucked my teeth for a moment, then nodded. "Sure, I think she should be decent." I led Vanessa to the back of the RV and opened the bedroom door. Ivy was still where I'd left her. Vanessa scooted around the outside of the bed, leaning forward and watching Ivy's face as she smiled and mumbled 'Imprinting' over and over. "That's freaky," Vanessa whispered, standing back up and coming out of the room. "But she's also gorgeous." "Just wait until you see her tattoos," Erica said. "She has some really interesting work done." "Yeah?" Vanessa asked. "Cool. I'm looking forward to meeting her." Erica smiled. "So, uh, how long before you need us?" "Like, twenty minutes ago," Vanessa smirked. "No," Erica shook her head. "I mean, how long until you need us." "Oh!" Vanessa said again, her eyes going wide. "Um.. another... fifteen minutes?" Erica smiled and winked. "I'll make it work." Vanessa, blushing, left the RV and shut the door behind her, while Erica turned and dropped the robe, revealing her naked body to me again. "I need you to fuck my orgasm back to life, babe," she said, staring hotly. "Fuck me fast and hard." I pulled her into my arms, laughing along with her as I glanced around the RV, deciding which part of the big luxury vehicle we should christen first. With Ivy safely tucked away in the back of the RV, and Erica and I working the knots out of her system quickly, it really was time to get to work. While Erica and I had been busy, Leo had been equally busy, going to wake up Danielle and show her their new temporary home as well. "Come on, rabbits," Erica called, knocking on the back window of their RV. "You would have been so pissed if he did that to you," I said. Erica laughed and shrugged. "Yeah, so?" "You two have a very different relationship than me and my sister," I said. The curtain on the window pulled aside a little, Leo glancing out and glaring at Erica. "Fuck off," he said, flashing her the finger. "We need to get to work!" Erica called again. Leo looked like he was about to say something snarky, but was pulled away and Danielle was now in the open corner of the window. "Sorry," she said, barely audible through the glass and over the sounds of construction work happening nearby. "I'll make sure we're quick." Her angelic face flashed us both a smile, and then she dropped the curtain. "Did you see what I saw?" Erica asked, turning to me. "You mean her whole naked tit?" I asked. "God damn, it's like that girl was manufactured to be 'Sexiest Woman Alive," Erica chuckled. "I don't know about that," I said, taking her hand and leading her away. "You'd give her a run for her money." "Compliments will serve you well, boyfriend," Erica smiled, squeezing my hand and winking. It turned out that the surveyors didn't need major tours again yet, so I was more free to help with the packing and the moving. Once Leo and Danielle joined us; letting us know the water pressure in the RV showers was pitiful at best; the work went quickly. We moved our clothing and things we knew we'd need sooner than later into the RVs, everything else got moved into the storage containers. A third container was dropped off to help with housing Leo's woodworking equipment, which gave us more space to start organizing things as well. How long did a house take to build? How long until they even started on our houses? These were the sorts of questions we just didn't have answers to, so we had to guess we would probably be in the RVs at least through the fall and winter and into next year. It was around the middle of the afternoon, and I was busy securing my father's old gun safe in the storage container with the woodworking tools, when I heard the telltale sound of another vehicle pulling up the driveway. Not three days ago, that sort of commotion would have had me wondering who it could be, and why they were out here in the middle of nowhere. And that wasn't just because of the pandemic quarantine; it had been that way my whole childhood. There were three kinds of visitors to the Black family ranch; expected, in need, and unwanted. Now I heard vans and trucks moving almost constantly, and there must have been thirty or more people working just within fifty yards and I'd only met half of them. It was strange. "Excuse me, Mr. Black?" A man asked. I turned from the gun safe and found a scraggly-looking kid, maybe all of twenty and looking like he was all bones and unkempt facial hair. He was wearing a reflective construction vest and had a hard hat tucked under one arm. "Just Harrison is fine," I said, shutting the safe and spinning the dial to lock it. "What can I do for you? Is Vanessa looking for me?" "Who? No, I don't think so," the kid said. "I'm with the grading crew working on the highway? There's, uh, some people who showed up demanding to talk to you." I took a breath and nodded. It could have been a couple of different people. "What did they look like?" "Well," he hesitated. "There were two women and three men, and they pulled up in a green pickup truck and a white panel van." "Kid, are they all Natives?" I asked. "Um, yeah," he said, clearly uncomfortable. He'd likely grown up somewhere far from a reservation, and probably in a major city, so his experience was limited to a little bubble. "Alright, I know what this is," I sighed. Part of me considered opening the gun safe back up, but I ended up figuring it would just make things worse. Guns usually did. It was tempting, though. I followed the kid out to the front and waved down Erica and Vanessa as they were talking on the front stoop of the house. "Hey, I need to head down to t

Thanks for being part of the conversation I am the Poet In The Forest. A children series I penned out in the 1990s. None of it would be possible if it wasn't for this forest in South Charlotte, NC. I talk about it so much that I thought maybe it's time you get to meet all that inspires me. Thanks for being part of the conversationBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/arroe-collins-like-it-s-live--4113802/support.

Thanks for being part of the conversation I am the Poet In The Forest. A children series I penned out in the 1990s. None of it would be possible if it wasn't for this forest in South Charlotte, NC. I talk about it so much that I thought maybe it's time you get to meet all that inspires me. Thanks for being part of the conversationBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/arroe-collins-unplugged-totally-uncut--994165/support.

It is the last moments before the bloodbath. Tributes rise and fall under the hot TV lights, rivalries are born, emotions are high, and at the end - the games begin. May the odds be ever in their favor.

Liesl hit the ground running! She could see right away that Willow was a mess, and maybe she can help Nina do something about it. And if it involves burying Drew alive, there will be rejoicing throughout the land! Meanwhile, Sasha has taken her hairy baby to visit with Robert. Poor Robert. But how sweet that they get to be together as a family. And Britt has been spotted! Will Jason leave Sonny to deal with Sidwell and go off in search of her? Let's hope so! Finally, Joss and Vaughn, Carly and Jack. Maybe WSB men just aren't that special. The PCPD could put together a better calendar. P.S. Gia and Keisha need to talk about Portia and Curtis, and Lois and Brook Lynn! They got distracted by the Coldplay situation. Very sorry! #mauricebenard  #kellythiebaud #rogerhowarth #maurawest #steveburton #delirious #barshampoo #daydrinkingwithsethmeyers #hillstreetblues #kinshriner  #nicholaschavez #afterlife #rickygervais #hallandoates #superstore #freaksandgeeks #freefallin #alanarkin #newgirl #lamornemorris #colonoscopy #takethenap #alleymills #billylibby #chickadee #fortgorgeous #robertgossett #daydrinkingwithsethmeyers #marcuscoloma #useastaplegun #riptwitch #ripepiphany #ripsonyaeddy  #waywardchickadee #barshampoo #ripmiffy #lovedogs #justinebateman #brookeshields #neilgaiman #dnice #cq #deborahcox #malcolmjamalwarner #lume #godzillaminusone #ripjacklynzeman #jasonmomoa #adambelanoff #thecloser #majorcrimes #wings #murphybrown #thecosbyshow #pinkalicious #ripbillymiller #ripmatthewperry #riptylerchristopher #riplesliecharleson #ripandrebraugher #ripjohnnywactor #dutchbarnvodka #chadduell #rickygervaisrobot #colinfromaccounts

In this episode, we often overlook the financial challenges of being a caregiver, from the cost of medical care to the impact on personal income. Lovely shares the budget strains of being a caregiver for her mother  and what steps one can take to manage the financial side of it. We also cover other resources and strategies that can help caregivers.  From reduced work hours and lost income to unexpected out-of-pocket expenses, we discuss the hidden costs associated with caring for a loved one. This conversation sheds light on what it truly costs—both financially and emotionally—to care for someone else.Wait! What is Financial Griot?The Financial Griot is a play on two words (Finance + Griot) that hold significance in closing the wealth gap while embracing our differences. Alainta Alcin, Lovely Merdelus, and Lawrence Delva-Gonzalez share their perspectives on current events that impact your personal finances and wealth mindset. In the New York Times, Bankrate, and other publications, the hosts share the stories that others don't. Stories about growth, opportunity, and even Wars. Beyond that, we tie it back to how it reflects on your finances. Specifically, we teach you how to become financially literate, incorporate actionable steps, and ultimately build generational wealth.Can you imagine being a Millionaire in 20 years or less?Yeah, it's possible. Eighty percent of millionaires are first-generation, meaning they didn't inherit wealth. We teach you how. Join a community of subscribers who welcome a fresh take on money.So there you have it, The Financial Griot, or TFG for short. The hosts amassed over $3 million in wealth in about eight years and are on track to retire early. We will gladly share the secrets if you want them, since the opportunity is abundant and a Win-Win.Find the TFG Crew Hosts on Instagram: Alainta Alcin - Blogger, Travel and Money Enthusiast https://www.linkedin.com/in/alaintaalcinLawrence Delva-Gonzalez, Financial Foodie and Travel Blogger@theneighborhoodfinanceguyLovely Merdelus - Entrepreneur and Small Business Growth Specialist @lovelymerdelus

Thanks for being part of the conversation I am the Poet In The Forest. A children series I penned out in the 1990s. None of it would be possible if it wasn't for this forest in South Charlotte, NC. I talk about it so much that I thought maybe it's time you get to meet all that inspires me. Thanks for being part of the conversationBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/arroe-collins-like-it-s-live--4113802/support.

EIGHTY episodes! Crazy right? For this 80th episode, you're definitely in for something a little different. This episode was shot at an AIRPORT in the middle of the NIGHT because we got STUCK! So this is The Airport & DreamCon Episode!My cousin and I share our thoughts on DreamCon 2025, and detail what our experiences were like. We talk about anime culture, black culture, and all of the things we were able to learn about spaces like DreamCon as well as the community that comes along with it. I figured it would be interesting to capture a unique experience in a very different (podcast) environment. So we gave it a try and this is how it turned out. Tune in!Don't forget to like, subscribe, and share this with a friend!Follow Us:- The Highlight Real: ⁠https://www.instagram.com/thehighlightreal__/⁠- Miyal : https://www.instagram.com/midmacvisuals/- Jhariah: ⁠https://www.instagram.com/jhariahw/⁠#thehighlightreal #dreamcon #podcast #cincinnati #houston #anime #gaming #blackcultureCHAPTERS:00:00 - Intro01:55 - DreamCon 2021 Experience09:33 - Shoutout to Ohio11:38 - DreamCon Highlights and Insights16:40 - Unmatched Energy at DreamCon18:34 - Meeting Friends at DreamCon19:40 - DreamCon 2021 Recap20:30 - Final Thoughts on DreamCon22:35 - Outro

Thanks for being part of the conversation I am the Poet In The Forest. A children series I penned out in the 1990s. None of it would be possible if it wasn't for this forest in South Charlotte, NC. I talk about it so much that I thought maybe it's time you get to meet all that inspires me. Thanks for being part of the conversationBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/arroe-collins-unplugged-totally-uncut--994165/support.

It's the calm before the storm. The tributes have one last opportunity to hone their skills, meet their fellow combatants, and make their plans before the eighty fifth Hunger Games begin! Masks begin to slip, alliances begin to form, and one young man leaves everyone feeling uncomfortable.

Lawrence and Alainta explore the historical roots, cultural significance, and future possibilities of wealth within the Black community, specifically through the annual Essence Festival in New Orleans. The episode examines the barriers that exist at the festival and the innovative strategies being employed to redefine prosperity. Wait, what's a Financial Griot?The Financial Griot is a play on two words (Finance + Griot) that hold significance in closing the wealth gap while embracing our differences. Alainta Alcin, Lovely Merdelus, and Lawrence Delva-Gonzalez share their perspectives on current events that impact your personal finances and wealth mindset. In the New York Times, Bankrate, and other publications, the hosts share the stories that others don't. Stories about growth, opportunity, and even Wars. Beyond that, we tie it back to how it reflects on your finances. Specifically, we teach you how to become financially literate, incorporate actionable steps, and ultimately build generational wealth.Can you imagine being a Millionaire in 20 years or less?Yeah, it's possible. Eighty percent of millionaires are first-generation, meaning they didn't inherit wealth. We teach you how. Join a community of subscribers who welcome a fresh take on money.So there you have it, The Financial Griot, or TFG for short. The hosts amassed over $3 million in wealth in about eight years and are on track to retire early. We will gladly share the secrets if you want them, since the opportunity is abundant and a Win-Win.Find the TFG Crew Hosts on Instagram: Alainta Alcin - Blogger, Travel and Money Enthusiast https://www.linkedin.com/in/alaintaalcinLawrence Delva-Gonzalez, Financial Foodie and Travel Blogger @theneighborhoodfinanceguyLovely Merdelus - Entrepreneur and Small Business Growth Specialist @lovelymerdelus

This is your Saturday morning All Local update.

Ever think about how you only get around 80 of any given day in your lifetime? Eighty birthdays, eighty Christmases, eighty Fourths of July — give or take. How many do you actually remember?Some stand out for good reasons, some for bad, and most just blur together. What makes a day stick in your mind? Is it the people you were with? What happened? Or just how you felt?As you get older, do holidays become less about you and more about helping your kids make memories? And when they grow up, will they even remember the ones you tried so hard to make special?Is it even possible to remember every day? Would you want to? What if you knew which day would be your last — would it change how you spend it?And if you could choose how many big moments you get in a lifetime, how many would be enough?This episode reflects on those questions — and on how the days that really matter often aren't the ones we plan.Opening song “Chiptune Fighter" written by SCOREWIZARDS.All production by Cody Maxwell.Opening graphic assets by motionstate.sharkfyn.commaxwellskitchenpodcast.com

Full Text of ReadingsWednesday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time Lectionary: 385The Saint of the day is Saint Augustine Zhao Rong and CompanionsSaint Augustine Zhao Rong’s and Companions’ Stories Christianity arrived in China by way of Syria in the 600s. Depending on China's relations with the outside world, Christianity over the centuries was free to grow or was forced to operate secretly. The 120 martyrs in this group died between 1648 and 1930. Eighty-seven of them were born in China, and were children, parents, catechists, or laborers, ranging in age from nine years to 72. This group includes four Chinese diocesan priests. The 33 foreign-born martyrs were mostly priests or women religious, especially from the Order of Preachers, the Paris Foreign Mission Society, the Friars Minor, Society of Jesus, Society of St. Francis de Sales (Salesians), and Franciscan Missionaries of Mary. Augustine Zhao Rong was a Chinese soldier who accompanied Bishop John Gabriel Taurin Dufresse of the Paris Foreign Mission Society to his martyrdom in Beijing. Not long after his baptism, Augustine was ordained as a diocesan priest. He was martyred in 1815. Beatified in groups at various times, these 120 martyrs were canonized together in Rome on October 1, 2000. Reflection The People's Republic of China and the Roman Catholic Church each have well over a billion members, but there are only about 12 million Catholics in China. The reasons for that are better explained by historical conflicts than by a wholesale rejection of the Good News of Jesus Christ. The Chinese-born martyrs honored by today’s feast were regarded by their persecutors as dangerous because they were considered allies of enemy, Catholic countries. The martyrs born outside China often tried to distance themselves from European political struggles relating to China, but their persecutors saw them as Westerners and therefore, by definition, anti-Chinese. The Good News of Jesus Christ is intended to benefit all peoples; today's martyrs knew that. May 21st-century Christians live in such a way that Chinese women and men will be attracted to hear that Good News and embrace it. Enjoy this list of popular patron saints! Saint of the Day, Copyright Franciscan Media

Imagine a world in which clothing wasn't superabundant – cheap, disposable, indestructible – but perishable, threadbare and chronically scarce. Eighty years ago, when World War II ended, a textile famine loomed. What would everyone wear as uniforms were discarded and soldiers returned home, Nazi camps were liberated, and millions of uprooted people struggled to subsist? In Making Do: Britons and the Refashioning of the Postwar World (Cambridge University Press, 2025), Dr. Susan L. Carruthers unpicks a familiar wartime motto, 'Make Do and Mend', to reveal how central fabric was to postwar Britain. Clothes and footwear supplied a currency with which some were rewarded, while others went without. Making Do moves from Britain's demob centres to liberated Belsen – from razed German cities to refugee camps and troopships – to uncover intimate ties between Britons and others bound together in new patterns of mutual need. Filled with original research and personal stories, Making Do illuminates how lives were refashioned after the most devastating war in human history. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. You can find Miranda's interviews on New Books with Miranda Melcher, wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Our tributes find themselves one step closer to the games and take their last moments to breathe before the bloodshed starts. As they march forward masks begin to slip, facades fade, and fate awaits. 

The RSMS crew began with somber news as Texas flash floods tragically claimed at least 89 lives—and left dozens missing—across Central Texas, including 27 children and counselors at Camp Mystic. Rescue teams battle ongoing downpours while concerns rise over inadequate warning systems and overwhelmed emergency crews. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In today’s episode of The Rickey Smiley Morning Show Podcast, we begin with somber news as Texas flash floods tragically claim at least 89 lives—and leave dozens missing—across Central Texas, including 27 children and counselors at Camp Mystic. Rescue teams battle ongoing downpours while concerns rise over inadequate warning systems and overwhelmed emergency crews. The discussion then pivots to entertainment and celebrity scoops. A male escort is now suing Cassie and Diddy, claiming she contracted an STD, aborted his baby, and demanding a share of the money she received—marking a surprising twist in the “freak‑off” legal storm. Meanwhile, Janice Combs, Diddy’s mother, remained reserved post-verdict—cautioning fans that the legal battle isn’t over despite her son’s acquittal on major charges. Website: https://www.urban1podcasts.com/rickey-smiley-morning-show See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Eighty percent of the world's population can't see the Milky Way. Light pollution interferes. Author and adventurer Craig Childs, of Norwood, Colorado, writes about a trek from light to dark in his new book. "The Wild Dark" takes readers from the incandescence of Las Vegas to the spangled skies of rural Nevada. Childs spoke with Sr. Host Ryan Warner at the Mountain Words Festival in Crested Butte in May. 

Eighty years ago this summer, a young John F. Kennedy took a job as a journalist for Hearst newspapers, filing dispatches in the final days of World War II. His columns capture the mood of a changing world. Even the most seasoned JFK scholars often overlook this chapter. In today's extra special Very Special Episode, Pulitzer Prize-winning biographer Fred Logevall and legendary director Rob Reiner join us to explore the forgotten summer that helped shape Kennedy's worldview. * Check out Fred Logevall's excellent book: JFK: Coming of Age in the American Century. Listen to Who Killed JFK? from Rob Reiner and Soledad O'Brien wherever you get your podcasts. And go see Spinal Tap II: The End Continues in theaters this September! And thanks to our JFK voice actor, Tom Antonellis, for nailing another role. * Hosted by Dana Schwartz, Zaron Burnett, and Jason EnglishWritten by Joe PompeoProduced by Josh FisherEditing and Sound Design by Jonathan Washington and Josh FisherAdditional Editing by Mary DooeMixing and Mastering by Josh FisherResearch and Fact-Checking by Joe Pompeo and Austin ThompsonOriginal Music by Elise McCoyShow Logo by Lucy QuintanillaExecutive Producer is Jason EnglishSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Eighty years ago this summer, a young John F. Kennedy took a job as a journalist for Hearst newspapers, filing dispatches in the final days of World War II. His columns capture the mood of a changing world. Even the most seasoned JFK scholars often overlook this chapter. In today's extra special Very Special Episode, Pulitzer Prize-winning biographer Fred Logevall and legendary director Rob Reiner join us to explore the forgotten summer that helped shape Kennedy's worldview. * Check out Fred Logevall's excellent book: JFK: Coming of Age in the American Century. Listen to Who Killed JFK? from Rob Reiner and Soledad O'Brien wherever you get your podcasts. And go see Spinal Tap II: The End Continues in theaters this September! And thanks to our JFK voice actor, Tom Antonellis, for nailing another role. * Hosted by Dana Schwartz, Zaron Burnett, and Jason EnglishWritten by Joe PompeoProduced by Josh FisherEditing and Sound Design by Jonathan Washington and Josh FisherAdditional Editing by Mary DooeMixing and Mastering by Josh FisherResearch and Fact-Checking by Joe Pompeo and Austin ThompsonOriginal Music by Elise McCoyShow Logo by Lucy QuintanillaExecutive Producer is Jason EnglishSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

(If you loved Rob Reiner + Soledad O'Brien's WHO KILLED JFK?, perhaps you'll enjoy this story from JFK's early years. Thanks for Rob Reiner for joining the Very Special Episodes podcast to help us tell it.) Eighty years ago this summer, a young John F. Kennedy took a job as a journalist for Hearst newspapers, filing dispatches in the final days of World War II. His columns capture the mood of a changing world. In today's Very Special Episode, Pulitzer Prize-winning biographer Fred Logevall and legendary director Rob Reiner join us to explore the forgotten summer that helped shape Kennedy's worldview. * For more Very Special Episodes, follow the show wherever you get your podcasts. Go see Spinal Tap II: The End Continues in theaters this September! Check out Fred Logevall's excellent book: JFK: Coming of Age in the American Century. Today's episode was written by Joe Pompeo. Very Special Episodes is hosted by Dana Schwartz, Zaron Burnett, and Jason English. Produced and edited by Josh Fisher, Jonathan Washington, and Mary Dooe. And thanks to our JFK voice actor, Tom Antonellis, for nailing another role. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Today's Topics: 1) Gospel - Luke 1:57-66, 80 - When the time arrived for Elizabeth to have her child she gave birth to a son. Her neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown his great mercy toward her, and they rejoiced with her. When they came on the eighth day to circumcise the child, they were going to call him Zechariah after his father, but his mother said in reply, “No. He will be called John.” But they answered her, “There is no one among your relatives who has this name.” So they made signs, asking his father what he wished him to be called. He asked for a tablet and wrote, “John is his name,” and all were amazed. Immediately his mouth was opened, his tongue freed, and he spoke blessing God. Then fear came upon all their neighbors, and all these matters were discussed throughout the hill country of Judea. All who heard these things took them to heart, saying, “What, then, will this child be?” For surely the hand of the Lord was with him. The child grew and became strong in spirit, and he was in the desert until the day of his manifestation to Israel. Solemnity of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist Saint John, pray for us! Bishop Sheen quote of the day 2, 3) Must artificial intelligence open the door to "that hideous strength" described by C.S. Lewis?" asks Father Dwight Longenecker. In Lewis' story, the National Institute of Co-ordinated Experiments (NICE) seeks world domination through science and technology, including transhumanist technology. Eighty years later, are we on the brink of such realities? https://theimaginativeconservative.org/2025/05/c-s-lewis-a-i-apocalypse-dwight-longenecker.html 4) Email comment to Terry & Jesse, "I don't believe in Jesus, the bible is full of errors and science is the only foundation of truth, and you should quit preaching lies!"