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In this weeks' Scale Your Sales Podcast episode, my guest is Paula Lender-Swain. Paula Lender-Swain leads the Public Sector UKI Business for HPE, covering Central and Secure Government, Healthcare and Higher Education. She has over 30 years' experience in the technology sector working for hardware, software, and communications vendors covering UKI, EMEA, and Global leadership roles. She has also worked across several disciplines including Sales, Marketing Strategy and Business Operations. In this episode of Scale Your Sales podcast, Paula discusses the challenges and opportunities in tech sales, focusing on her journey as a woman in a male-dominated industry. She emphasizes the importance of diversity, mentorship, and innovation, particularly in public sector sales and the impact of AI. Her insights offer valuable lessons for scaling businesses and driving successful sales strategies. Welcome to Scale Your Sales Podcast, Paula Lender-Swain.   Timestamps: 00:00 Embracing Change and Innovation in Public Sector Sales 05:56 Gender bias in tech; diversity needs value. 06:59 Encouraging women to take on sales roles. 10:59 Earth 51 promotes sustainability and gender equality. 16:48 Effective measurement and clear direction for managers. 19:28 Identifying right people, public sector sales expertise. 23:34 Sales in public sector during COVID, challenging. 25:56 Learning from failures, diversifying customer focus crucial. 29:44 Public sector investing in AI excellence areas. 32:09 Data sharing improves accessibility, security, and reliability. 35:06 Excitedly building Millennium Falcon, joy in escape.   https://www.linkedin.com/in/paulalenderswain/   Janice B Gordon is the award-winning Customer Growth Expert and Scale Your Sales Framework founder. She is by LinkedIn Sales 15 Innovating Sales Influencers to Follow 2021, the Top 50 Global Thought Leaders and Influencers on Customer Experience Nov 2020 and 150 Women B2B Thought Leaders You Should Follow in 2021. Janice helps companies worldwide to reimagine revenue growth thought customer experience and sales. Book Janice to speak virtually at your next event: https://janicebgordon.com LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/janice-b-gordon/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/JaniceBGordon Scale Your Sales Podcast: https://scaleyoursales.co.uk/podcast More on the blog: https://scaleyoursales.co.uk/blog Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/janicebgordon Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ScaleYourSales   And more! Visit our podcast website https://scaleyoursales.co.uk/podcast/ to watch or listen.

Lapsed catholic woman finds need to confess. By MarthaMcKinley - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. I'm driving back to see my priest, from the college parish.  Yeah, this catholic girl needs deliverance from some major guilt. No, let's see; how many years has it been? It hit me yesterday, as Robbie & I were driving home. Oh, Gawd! Oh Gawd!Why shouldn't I worry? This probably changes things. No. It definitely changes things! Every thing. I had sex with Bart, a married man. Get it, you rash brain. I'm a married woman who just had sex with another woman's husband. And not simply another woman, but one of my friends. What was I thinking? Obviously, I wasn't. There we were. Robbie was driving. I glanced over at Robbie, driving us home, tapping on the steering wheel and belting out the words to Billie Joel's Only the Good Die Young coming over the radio. “You Catholic girls start much too late.” Did Billy Joel know, too? The irony of it all. I was one of them: a graduate eight years ago of St. Margaret's Academy, an all girls' high school run by the Sisters of Notre Dame. In my four years there, I had had negligible experience with boys-just a handful of dances in the gym at the neighboring Catholic boys' school. I never had a boyfriend. I was never even confident enough in myself to flirt, for I never found the girl looking back at me in the mirror to be anything but plain. In college, no one had even asked me out until my junior year when Robbie did. I was so flummoxed, so flattered, so sure it must be a charity act that I spent the next two years at Macalester in perpetual gratitude, satisfying his every need. And right after graduation, with a BFA in painting, Miss flat chested and shy, but virgin no more Mary Johnson married Mister handsome, self-assured, going places Robbie Dwyer. “I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints…” he sang, glancing over at me, suggestively. Did he do it, too? Did he have sex with Robyn in the hot tub after Bart and I got out? It was entirely possible. In the four years since we were married, he had confessed to at least a half dozen women who turned him on. The Swedish lab tech at work with the impossibly long lashes. The buxom Australian hostess at the Sunshine Factory, our friday night watering hole. The neighbor from Kenya with the wide hips and muscular buttocks bulging out her short shorts as she dragged the sprinkler across the lawn. The Vietnamese manicurist, where I got my nails done, with the alluring-demurring smile on her face. My God, he had a fantasy girl from almost every continent. At least he was ecumenical. But had he ever acted on any of these urges…other than acting them out in our bedroom? For whatever reason, his fantasies turned me on. They were so absurd, and far from making me suspicious, when he brought them up in bed at night, I wanted to play along. I became the big-bosomed Aussie who smothered him with her tits, or the wide assed African who yanked on his hose. We would start assuming these roles in all seriousness, but soon be laughing so hard that Robbie would get massive, I would become sopping wet, and we'd fuck fast and furious until we came in great gasps. Then we would kiss and hug, saying all those wonderful words of love to each other, before falling asleep entwined. You know, it's amazing when you find yourself. All my scholarly life I had struggled with reading, writing essays, taking multiple-choice tests. But one thing I loved to do-and was good at-was rendering landscapes in pastel: layering wheat fields with raw sienna, coating barns and silos in brilliant cad red and alizarin crimson, foliating giant cottonwoods with varying shades of sap green, and stretching cobalt shadows across lawns and patios, bending them up walls of grand white farmhouses. I guess, in retrospect, it was how I sublimated my sexuality as a teenager. Years later, post art school-and after having given up on Catholicism-I discovered the co-existence of the creative impulse and drive for sexual gratification. It was then that my artistic successes began. People seemed to respond passionately to my new work. Collectors bought four, five, or six of my pieces. Each new series-the Dakotas, the Mississippi-won me acclaim at venues in Minneapolis, Santa Fe, Denver, and Chicago. I almost couldn't make enough for all the enthusiastic gallery owners. The result was gaining a measure of confidence, not only in art, but in love, which I had formerly never known, and which seemed so natural for others, like Robbie, Bart, and Robyn. Oh my God, I forgot about Robyn, the red-haired nurse-midwife whose house we were just leaving. Robbie fantasized the most about that little spitfire-at least, she's the one who seemed to augment his cock the greatest. I remember his last “Robyn dream,” a mere week ago: he and she were wrestling at the pond's edge after they emerged from a skinny dip on a sultry afternoon. They had started slinging playful insults at one another, until one literally slung a handful of mud, at which point the real fun began. Soon they were coated with a burnt sienna glaze and needing to go back into the water to wash each other off. It made sense, that fanciful notion of his. Water was their thing. Robyn got covered in amniotic fluid when her patient's “water” broke, and Robbie worked as a field biologist with lake flora and fauna. Two science types, always with liquid things to talk about. We had left them in their element, soaking in the hot tub, when Bart and I got out to look at one of his new pastel paintings-our element. Robbie drummed on the steering wheel. “You know that only the good die young…Tell you baby…Only the good die young…” I was feeling really clammy now. What if he and Robyn did fuck in the hot tub? Would that be better-for me? After all, if he did it, why couldn't I? Or… did it spell the end of our marriage? Were we going to become one of those pairs of swinging couples whose relationship divided along fault lines? Little things that once seemed endearing qualities-my need to have everything in its place at home-would become an annoyance to him and an excuse for fleeing to Robyn. Or his insistence in correcting my retelling of a mutual experience-that I formerly had allowed with amusement-would become the hurt driving me to Bart and the consolation of his touch. Jesus, what have I done? What have we done? We? Maybe we didn't do anything. Maybe only I did? And Robbie's trust in me will be shattered forever. I reached over to touch his head, to pull my fingers through his dark, dark umber hair, with waves as luscious as my grassy prairies at sunset. He looked over and smiled, his gaze penetrating my eyes briefly before it returned to the road. “I love when you do that, Georgia,” he teased, using the name of the artist, Georgia O'Keeffe, whom I had been the most influenced by in college. He hadn't fucked Robyn after all. Great. Now I'm the fucker. “I love doing that,” I replied. “You know how much I crave your textures!” Did I sound like the same me? Could he tell anything from the dampness of my fingers? “We'll be home in ten minutes,” he proclaimed. "Can't wait to be in bed with you.“ Suddenly feeling queasy, I replied, “Are you wide awake? I'm so tired, I think I'm going to close my eyes for a bit.” “I'm fine. Another good song!" And he was off, singing in perfect pitch, "But you gotta keep your head up, oh-oh, and you can let your hair down, eh-eh…” Maybe he's too exuberant? I bet he did do it? Do it. Do it. Did I really do it? Did we? Bart and I? Do it? Oh, Father Duffy, it's times like these when I miss those confession sessions… …Bart and I had dried off in front of his fireplace. The bromine from the hot tub was so strong we had taken turns rinsing off in the shower. With towels wrapped around us, we ascended the stairs to his studio and his magnificent nudes. If I relished the feel of textures through my fingers, my eyes delighted in the virtual touch of the skin tones in his paintings: strokes of raw sienna melding into caput mortuum, Indian red into purple violet and Thalo blue. His pastels had been blended with infinite patience, layer upon layer of pigment to create arm, chest, torso, groin, giving the effect of a radiance emanating from within. For someone not in possession of the endowment, he painted the most sensuous breasts-with thick areolas and erect nipples-seemingly emerging from the paper, begging to be sucked. I touched his arm to point out, on a nearby easel, the pair of lovers he was finishing, a man standing behind a woman, their hands holding five passion fruits against her chest. Excitedly, I inquired as to how he got her skin to glow with such warmth of golden ochre and crimson. He nestled my elbow in his palm as he eased me toward the painting and explained his artistic process. It was fun having another artist to talk with, to puzzle out problems of color and value, to compare favorite painters and art philosophies. In college, I had been so head over heals involved with Robbie, that I did my course work, rushed back to the dorm to be with him, and didn't give myself the time to make friends, let alone hang out with established teacher-artists in the art department. My BFA degree had landed me a graphic arts job with Minnesota Life, a glossy recreation magazine, and I spent over a year doing computer artwork, but again, no real artist contacts-and no art opportunities. When my school loans were nearly repaid, and Robbie was making enough for both of us to live on, I went back to painting with pastels. Within two years, I was showing in the Twin Cities; then, six months later, in three other major metropolitan areas. That experience brought me into contact with other artisans, most of them women, all of us doing different subjects. We exhibited together on occasion, got together for group-show receptions, but I never really developed an artistic kinship with any painter-until I met Bart. He leaned into me as we conversed, and I maintained our inertia by pressing back. He took my left hand in his, and slipped his right arm around my back, supporting me as we talked about his lovers' faces; the aura of contemplation; the mysteries of connection, communion, and commitment. I told him how much I liked the piece, and he hugged me with appreciation. And that's when we should have stopped. I could have inquired about the adjacent painting, the woman with the large guava facing the viewer and the man turning away with his smaller one. But I didn't. His hug felt so good. As did the wine, our soak in the hot tub, my newly-found confidence. We rotated toward each other. He brought his lips to mine, and, rather than turn to accept his kiss on my cheek, I met him full on with my own. As our embrace progressed, intoxicatingly, I encircled his lanky waist and felt our towels drop away. With his manliness expanding against my belly and his hand raising tingles up my spine, I devoured his lower lip, squeaking a little in excitement when I felt his tongue enter my mouth. With both hands he lifted up my tiny breasts, his fingers running over my nipples, as ripe as his painted ones, then pulled each with gentle traction, making them ache all the more. I moved off his mouth, and began kissing his chest, lightly brushing the russet hairs with my lips in an ever-expanding oval. Initially passing over his nipples, I returned to suck each to hardness and heard him groan as I bit down on them tenderly. His finger pads moved down my spine to buttocks, backs of thigh, up to hipbones, and, twisting his hands around, his finger nails grazed across to my pussy tuft and up my abdomen to my back again, in a repeating hypnotic loop of arousal. When my tongue repaid his kindness, creating a saliva trail down his midline, my cheek butted into his erection. I turned deftly toward the large head, now deeply violet and glowing as hot as his figures' skin tones. Clumsily, we maneuvered our entangled selves to his model stand, and found our way to sitting upon the shag carpet remnant atop the platform, my mouth locked around him, my juices oozing into the rug. His hand found my slot, and as I drew my teeth up and over his rim, I felt his fingers close around my clit, pinching it rhythmically to our breathing. My shrieks of pleasure were stifled by taking more of his cock deeper in my throat, and, as I rocked onto his hand, he began thrusting into my mouth. “I'm gonna come,” he whispered, urgently. Having climaxed once already, and about to scream again, I was fully prepared to grant him his pleasure. Within seconds a hot bolus shot into my mouth, and this time I gurgled with delight as his flood of warmth quieted my cries. One hand circled my head, his fingers pushing through my perspiring hair. The other, perfumed by my cunt-flower, was rubbed against cheek, neck, and shoulder, all the while he praised my beauty in muffled tones. I regained my resting breathing tempo, but all I could mumble was, “Wonderful, wonderful,” as his cock slowly deflated in my mouth. “You guys up there?” Robbie had hollered from the bottom of the stairs. “Just gazing at some nudes,” Bart had called back, so nonchalantly, I thought that perhaps I had been dreaming all the while. But of course I wasn't. Bart and I had hurriedly wrapped our towels around us. He went ahead of me down the stairs, as I ducked into their bathroom to do a bidet-cleansing of my mouth, then joined everyone below to get dressed and prepare for our departure. “We're home,” announced Robbie. “Let's get right to bed. I love it when you're brominated.” I awoke from one nightmare to go back into what I feared was another. What Robbie pronounced was true. Being brominated meant that by soaking in the hot tub, I was disinfected everywhere, and his tongue could explore my private place with relatively impunity. Any other time, his suggestion would have made me forgo my nightly mouth care, but this evening, I delayed our entry into bed by flossing and brushing-with lots of toothpaste. That would cover up any telltale tastes, but I didn't know if the delay would allow my brain to become re-engaged in love making. Robbie and I have been very honest with each other. Well, I felt I have been completely honest, and I trusted full revelations would have been forthcoming from him. So as we pulled the sheets over our nakednesses, I wondered if I should bare all? “Do I tell him,” I asked myself? Did I want him to tell me-if there was anything to tell? What I knew more than anything was that I needed to have Robbie inside me right now. I had made a terrible mistake, but I needed to be loved by him for who I was-his imperfect wife. The one he comes home to. The one he treasures. The one to him, for all her faults, is the most important woman in the whole world. That's the way I felt about him, after all. My decision was made by default. He began to kiss me on my mouth, his hands roaming over my breasts, his warmth surrounding me, making me forget all about the tryst of two hours prior. I felt wholly consumed by this man, desired in a way I hadn't felt before. He was possessed it seemed, and he ravaged me with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, gnawing on my neck muscles, biting my nipples, tonguing deeply into my belly button as his fingers poked into my buttocks, scraped down my outer thighs and stroked back up the fronts. His rigidity pressed against me, but I wasn't about to let this end too quickly. I kissed him back. Roughly. Biting his lip, his chin, then along jaw bone to ear lobe. He writhed with the discomfort, but moaned in pleasure, calling out, “Mary Johnson, I love you, love you.” In a trice he was upon me, kissing me with abandon. I carved my nails down his backside, and his tempo accelerated. “Fuck me, Robbie! Fuck me hard!!” I urged. As I gripped his flanks, he pounded me, rocking our bed, the headboard cracking like a sledgehammer against the wall. In a voice an octave higher, I began to whine, inhaling sharply to fill my chest, about to explode into an earsplitting orgasm, when Robbie stopped. Pulled out. Rolled me over. “What the…?” “I need you completely tonight, M.J. All of you.” And he separated my ass cheeks and began nibbling that tender flesh around my anus, which drove me into the pre-ecstasy shudders. I knew what was coming next: his tongue would dive deeply into me, and I would light up our room with carmine, magenta, and cerulean lightning bolts, before flooding the bedsheets with a cloudburst from my womb. And he did. And so did I. I screamed and screamed. When I was sated and the bed soaked, he turned me over and had his way with me, and I came for a fifth or sixth time-but who's counting when your man is shouting into your ear and filling your vaginal cup with the most exquisite of liqueurs. As we lay aside each other in the warm puddle of us, both sweating from the physical effort, he professed just how much he cared for me. I knew exactly what he meant: I couldn't imagine loving another being more. Well, yes I could. With his hand moving over my hair, and warm exhalations against my cheek, he offered, “M.J., I got something to tell you.” Sighing in relief, I answered, “And I got something to tell you, too.” Which leads me to say; Bless me father; for I have sinned. By MarthaMcKinley for Literotica

Lapsed catholic woman finds need to confess. By MarthaMcKinley - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. I'm driving back to see my priest, from the college parish.  Yeah, this catholic girl needs deliverance from some major guilt. No, let's see; how many years has it been? It hit me yesterday, as Robbie & I were driving home. Oh, Gawd! Oh Gawd!Why shouldn't I worry? This probably changes things. No. It definitely changes things! Every thing. I had sex with Bart, a married man. Get it, you rash brain. I'm a married woman who just had sex with another woman's husband. And not simply another woman, but one of my friends. What was I thinking? Obviously, I wasn't. There we were. Robbie was driving. I glanced over at Robbie, driving us home, tapping on the steering wheel and belting out the words to Billie Joel's Only the Good Die Young coming over the radio. “You Catholic girls start much too late.” Did Billy Joel know, too? The irony of it all. I was one of them: a graduate eight years ago of St. Margaret's Academy, an all girls' high school run by the Sisters of Notre Dame. In my four years there, I had had negligible experience with boys-just a handful of dances in the gym at the neighboring Catholic boys' school. I never had a boyfriend. I was never even confident enough in myself to flirt, for I never found the girl looking back at me in the mirror to be anything but plain. In college, no one had even asked me out until my junior year when Robbie did. I was so flummoxed, so flattered, so sure it must be a charity act that I spent the next two years at Macalester in perpetual gratitude, satisfying his every need. And right after graduation, with a BFA in painting, Miss flat chested and shy, but virgin no more Mary Johnson married Mister handsome, self-assured, going places Robbie Dwyer. “I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints…” he sang, glancing over at me, suggestively. Did he do it, too? Did he have sex with Robyn in the hot tub after Bart and I got out? It was entirely possible. In the four years since we were married, he had confessed to at least a half dozen women who turned him on. The Swedish lab tech at work with the impossibly long lashes. The buxom Australian hostess at the Sunshine Factory, our friday night watering hole. The neighbor from Kenya with the wide hips and muscular buttocks bulging out her short shorts as she dragged the sprinkler across the lawn. The Vietnamese manicurist, where I got my nails done, with the alluring-demurring smile on her face. My God, he had a fantasy girl from almost every continent. At least he was ecumenical. But had he ever acted on any of these urges…other than acting them out in our bedroom? For whatever reason, his fantasies turned me on. They were so absurd, and far from making me suspicious, when he brought them up in bed at night, I wanted to play along. I became the big-bosomed Aussie who smothered him with her tits, or the wide assed African who yanked on his hose. We would start assuming these roles in all seriousness, but soon be laughing so hard that Robbie would get massive, I would become sopping wet, and we'd fuck fast and furious until we came in great gasps. Then we would kiss and hug, saying all those wonderful words of love to each other, before falling asleep entwined. You know, it's amazing when you find yourself. All my scholarly life I had struggled with reading, writing essays, taking multiple-choice tests. But one thing I loved to do-and was good at-was rendering landscapes in pastel: layering wheat fields with raw sienna, coating barns and silos in brilliant cad red and alizarin crimson, foliating giant cottonwoods with varying shades of sap green, and stretching cobalt shadows across lawns and patios, bending them up walls of grand white farmhouses. I guess, in retrospect, it was how I sublimated my sexuality as a teenager. Years later, post art school-and after having given up on Catholicism-I discovered the co-existence of the creative impulse and drive for sexual gratification. It was then that my artistic successes began. People seemed to respond passionately to my new work. Collectors bought four, five, or six of my pieces. Each new series-the Dakotas, the Mississippi-won me acclaim at venues in Minneapolis, Santa Fe, Denver, and Chicago. I almost couldn't make enough for all the enthusiastic gallery owners. The result was gaining a measure of confidence, not only in art, but in love, which I had formerly never known, and which seemed so natural for others, like Robbie, Bart, and Robyn. Oh my God, I forgot about Robyn, the red-haired nurse-midwife whose house we were just leaving. Robbie fantasized the most about that little spitfire-at least, she's the one who seemed to augment his cock the greatest. I remember his last “Robyn dream,” a mere week ago: he and she were wrestling at the pond's edge after they emerged from a skinny dip on a sultry afternoon. They had started slinging playful insults at one another, until one literally slung a handful of mud, at which point the real fun began. Soon they were coated with a burnt sienna glaze and needing to go back into the water to wash each other off. It made sense, that fanciful notion of his. Water was their thing. Robyn got covered in amniotic fluid when her patient's “water” broke, and Robbie worked as a field biologist with lake flora and fauna. Two science types, always with liquid things to talk about. We had left them in their element, soaking in the hot tub, when Bart and I got out to look at one of his new pastel paintings-our element. Robbie drummed on the steering wheel. “You know that only the good die young…Tell you baby…Only the good die young…” I was feeling really clammy now. What if he and Robyn did fuck in the hot tub? Would that be better-for me? After all, if he did it, why couldn't I? Or… did it spell the end of our marriage? Were we going to become one of those pairs of swinging couples whose relationship divided along fault lines? Little things that once seemed endearing qualities-my need to have everything in its place at home-would become an annoyance to him and an excuse for fleeing to Robyn. Or his insistence in correcting my retelling of a mutual experience-that I formerly had allowed with amusement-would become the hurt driving me to Bart and the consolation of his touch. Jesus, what have I done? What have we done? We? Maybe we didn't do anything. Maybe only I did? And Robbie's trust in me will be shattered forever. I reached over to touch his head, to pull my fingers through his dark, dark umber hair, with waves as luscious as my grassy prairies at sunset. He looked over and smiled, his gaze penetrating my eyes briefly before it returned to the road. “I love when you do that, Georgia,” he teased, using the name of the artist, Georgia O'Keeffe, whom I had been the most influenced by in college. He hadn't fucked Robyn after all. Great. Now I'm the fucker. “I love doing that,” I replied. “You know how much I crave your textures!” Did I sound like the same me? Could he tell anything from the dampness of my fingers? “We'll be home in ten minutes,” he proclaimed. "Can't wait to be in bed with you.“ Suddenly feeling queasy, I replied, “Are you wide awake? I'm so tired, I think I'm going to close my eyes for a bit.” “I'm fine. Another good song!" And he was off, singing in perfect pitch, "But you gotta keep your head up, oh-oh, and you can let your hair down, eh-eh…” Maybe he's too exuberant? I bet he did do it? Do it. Do it. Did I really do it? Did we? Bart and I? Do it? Oh, Father Duffy, it's times like these when I miss those confession sessions… …Bart and I had dried off in front of his fireplace. The bromine from the hot tub was so strong we had taken turns rinsing off in the shower. With towels wrapped around us, we ascended the stairs to his studio and his magnificent nudes. If I relished the feel of textures through my fingers, my eyes delighted in the virtual touch of the skin tones in his paintings: strokes of raw sienna melding into caput mortuum, Indian red into purple violet and Thalo blue. His pastels had been blended with infinite patience, layer upon layer of pigment to create arm, chest, torso, groin, giving the effect of a radiance emanating from within. For someone not in possession of the endowment, he painted the most sensuous breasts-with thick areolas and erect nipples-seemingly emerging from the paper, begging to be sucked. I touched his arm to point out, on a nearby easel, the pair of lovers he was finishing, a man standing behind a woman, their hands holding five passion fruits against her chest. Excitedly, I inquired as to how he got her skin to glow with such warmth of golden ochre and crimson. He nestled my elbow in his palm as he eased me toward the painting and explained his artistic process. It was fun having another artist to talk with, to puzzle out problems of color and value, to compare favorite painters and art philosophies. In college, I had been so head over heals involved with Robbie, that I did my course work, rushed back to the dorm to be with him, and didn't give myself the time to make friends, let alone hang out with established teacher-artists in the art department. My BFA degree had landed me a graphic arts job with Minnesota Life, a glossy recreation magazine, and I spent over a year doing computer artwork, but again, no real artist contacts-and no art opportunities. When my school loans were nearly repaid, and Robbie was making enough for both of us to live on, I went back to painting with pastels. Within two years, I was showing in the Twin Cities; then, six months later, in three other major metropolitan areas. That experience brought me into contact with other artisans, most of them women, all of us doing different subjects. We exhibited together on occasion, got together for group-show receptions, but I never really developed an artistic kinship with any painter-until I met Bart. He leaned into me as we conversed, and I maintained our inertia by pressing back. He took my left hand in his, and slipped his right arm around my back, supporting me as we talked about his lovers' faces; the aura of contemplation; the mysteries of connection, communion, and commitment. I told him how much I liked the piece, and he hugged me with appreciation. And that's when we should have stopped. I could have inquired about the adjacent painting, the woman with the large guava facing the viewer and the man turning away with his smaller one. But I didn't. His hug felt so good. As did the wine, our soak in the hot tub, my newly-found confidence. We rotated toward each other. He brought his lips to mine, and, rather than turn to accept his kiss on my cheek, I met him full on with my own. As our embrace progressed, intoxicatingly, I encircled his lanky waist and felt our towels drop away. With his manliness expanding against my belly and his hand raising tingles up my spine, I devoured his lower lip, squeaking a little in excitement when I felt his tongue enter my mouth. With both hands he lifted up my tiny breasts, his fingers running over my nipples, as ripe as his painted ones, then pulled each with gentle traction, making them ache all the more. I moved off his mouth, and began kissing his chest, lightly brushing the russet hairs with my lips in an ever-expanding oval. Initially passing over his nipples, I returned to suck each to hardness and heard him groan as I bit down on them tenderly. His finger pads moved down my spine to buttocks, backs of thigh, up to hipbones, and, twisting his hands around, his finger nails grazed across to my pussy tuft and up my abdomen to my back again, in a repeating hypnotic loop of arousal. When my tongue repaid his kindness, creating a saliva trail down his midline, my cheek butted into his erection. I turned deftly toward the large head, now deeply violet and glowing as hot as his figures' skin tones. Clumsily, we maneuvered our entangled selves to his model stand, and found our way to sitting upon the shag carpet remnant atop the platform, my mouth locked around him, my juices oozing into the rug. His hand found my slot, and as I drew my teeth up and over his rim, I felt his fingers close around my clit, pinching it rhythmically to our breathing. My shrieks of pleasure were stifled by taking more of his cock deeper in my throat, and, as I rocked onto his hand, he began thrusting into my mouth. “I'm gonna come,” he whispered, urgently. Having climaxed once already, and about to scream again, I was fully prepared to grant him his pleasure. Within seconds a hot bolus shot into my mouth, and this time I gurgled with delight as his flood of warmth quieted my cries. One hand circled my head, his fingers pushing through my perspiring hair. The other, perfumed by my cunt-flower, was rubbed against cheek, neck, and shoulder, all the while he praised my beauty in muffled tones. I regained my resting breathing tempo, but all I could mumble was, “Wonderful, wonderful,” as his cock slowly deflated in my mouth. “You guys up there?” Robbie had hollered from the bottom of the stairs. “Just gazing at some nudes,” Bart had called back, so nonchalantly, I thought that perhaps I had been dreaming all the while. But of course I wasn't. Bart and I had hurriedly wrapped our towels around us. He went ahead of me down the stairs, as I ducked into their bathroom to do a bidet-cleansing of my mouth, then joined everyone below to get dressed and prepare for our departure. “We're home,” announced Robbie. “Let's get right to bed. I love it when you're brominated.” I awoke from one nightmare to go back into what I feared was another. What Robbie pronounced was true. Being brominated meant that by soaking in the hot tub, I was disinfected everywhere, and his tongue could explore my private place with relatively impunity. Any other time, his suggestion would have made me forgo my nightly mouth care, but this evening, I delayed our entry into bed by flossing and brushing-with lots of toothpaste. That would cover up any telltale tastes, but I didn't know if the delay would allow my brain to become re-engaged in love making. Robbie and I have been very honest with each other. Well, I felt I have been completely honest, and I trusted full revelations would have been forthcoming from him. So as we pulled the sheets over our nakednesses, I wondered if I should bare all? “Do I tell him,” I asked myself? Did I want him to tell me-if there was anything to tell? What I knew more than anything was that I needed to have Robbie inside me right now. I had made a terrible mistake, but I needed to be loved by him for who I was-his imperfect wife. The one he comes home to. The one he treasures. The one to him, for all her faults, is the most important woman in the whole world. That's the way I felt about him, after all. My decision was made by default. He began to kiss me on my mouth, his hands roaming over my breasts, his warmth surrounding me, making me forget all about the tryst of two hours prior. I felt wholly consumed by this man, desired in a way I hadn't felt before. He was possessed it seemed, and he ravaged me with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, gnawing on my neck muscles, biting my nipples, tonguing deeply into my belly button as his fingers poked into my buttocks, scraped down my outer thighs and stroked back up the fronts. His rigidity pressed against me, but I wasn't about to let this end too quickly. I kissed him back. Roughly. Biting his lip, his chin, then along jaw bone to ear lobe. He writhed with the discomfort, but moaned in pleasure, calling out, “Mary Johnson, I love you, love you.” In a trice he was upon me, kissing me with abandon. I carved my nails down his backside, and his tempo accelerated. “Fuck me, Robbie! Fuck me hard!!” I urged. As I gripped his flanks, he pounded me, rocking our bed, the headboard cracking like a sledgehammer against the wall. In a voice an octave higher, I began to whine, inhaling sharply to fill my chest, about to explode into an earsplitting orgasm, when Robbie stopped. Pulled out. Rolled me over. “What the…?” “I need you completely tonight, M.J. All of you.” And he separated my ass cheeks and began nibbling that tender flesh around my anus, which drove me into the pre-ecstasy shudders. I knew what was coming next: his tongue would dive deeply into me, and I would light up our room with carmine, magenta, and cerulean lightning bolts, before flooding the bedsheets with a cloudburst from my womb. And he did. And so did I. I screamed and screamed. When I was sated and the bed soaked, he turned me over and had his way with me, and I came for a fifth or sixth time-but who's counting when your man is shouting into your ear and filling your vaginal cup with the most exquisite of liqueurs. As we lay aside each other in the warm puddle of us, both sweating from the physical effort, he professed just how much he cared for me. I knew exactly what he meant: I couldn't imagine loving another being more. Well, yes I could. With his hand moving over my hair, and warm exhalations against my cheek, he offered, “M.J., I got something to tell you.” Sighing in relief, I answered, “And I got something to tell you, too.” Which leads me to say; Bless me father; for I have sinned. By MarthaMcKinley for Literotica

Episode 13: What impact will AI-generated content have on the entertainment industry? Matt Wolfe (https://x.com/mreflow) and Nathan Lands (https://x.com/NathanLands) dive into this topic, envisioning a future where AI generates interactive movies and complex gaming worlds with infinite replay value. In this episode, Matt and Nathan explore the potential of AI video tools such as Sora, Luma's dream machine, and Runway's gen three. They discuss how these advancements could democratize video creation, enhance b-roll, and expand creative possibilities, as well as the implications for copyright laws, gaming, and traditional creative industries. They also touch on George Lucas' views on technological progress, Ashton Kutcher's controversial support for AI, and the role of indie game developers in a rapidly evolving landscape. Check out The Next Wave YouTube Channel if you want to see Matt and Nathan on screen: https://lnk.to/thenextwavepd — Show Notes: (00:00) Sora is the most anticipated AI video. (03:39) AI video tools improve, but have quirks. (09:23) Runway Gen 3 is fast, unlike Luma's dream machine. (12:04) Excitedly exploring and creating with new AI. (14:48) Custom mid journey models personalize prompts, raise concerns. (17:28) George Lucas acknowledges inevitability of AI development. (21:40) Copyright law impacting AI and technological innovation. (25:31) Copyright evolution in the new world uncertainty. (27:28) TikTok boosted exposure for music artists. (32:32) Excited about AI tech but still loves art. (33:18) AI may replace video extras, changing Hollywood. (38:52) Procedural generation and AI enhance game replayability. — Mentions: Sora: https://sora.aitubo.ai/ Runway Gen-3 Alpha: https://runwayml.com/blog/introducing-gen-3-alpha/ Ashton Kutcher's Support for AI: https://variety.com/2024/film/news/ashton-kutcher-ai-movies-sora-hollywood-1236027196/ Luma Dream Machine: https://lumalabs.ai/dream-machine Mid Journey: https://www.midjourney.com/home Augmented World Expo: https://www.awexr.com/ Perplexity AI: https://www.perplexity.ai/ — Check Out Matt's Stuff: • Future Tools - https://futuretools.beehiiv.com/ • Blog - https://www.mattwolfe.com/ • YouTube- https://www.youtube.com/@mreflow — Check Out Nathan's Stuff: Newsletter: https://news.lore.com/ Blog - https://lore.com/ The Next Wave is a HubSpot Original Podcast // Brought to you by The HubSpot Podcast Network // Production by Darren Clarke // Editing by Ezra Bakker Trupiano

Welcome to Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gamed, and our Pathfinder 2nd Edition podcast.  We are playing Wrath of the Righteous!  It is a Pathfinder adventure path from 1st edition which we will be converting into Pathfinder 2nd Edition.  Listen to us talk about what characters we are thinking of playing, as well as the work we already done to convert some of the player options.  Listen to us joke around, talk shop, laugh, and have fun as we get amped up for our new campaign.     Also, check out our Merch Store, and let us know if you want something added! NVNG MERCH   On our way to the Dwarven Resistance's hideaway, we heard information that Aravashnial is here!  Excitedly, the party was making their way down, escorted by some dwarves.  Along the way, Artura tried to delve his psyche into the book once belonging to the Lich.  While delving into this item, the Lich's psyche fought back, and now Artura was unbeknownst to us, controlled by the Lich's mind.  Once the party met up with Aravashnial, Artura, while controlled by the Lich, attacked, and tried to take out both Aravashnial, and Boren Rockshaper, the leader of the Dwarven Resistance.   Will the party fight and restrain Artura, or will Artura corrupt others with the worms of the cultists? Find out in the next episode of Wrath of the Righteous!   With our Forever GM Jared leading the charge, Lets introduce our characters for this game, well, for as long as they survive! Fabio is playing the human Swashbuckler, Hennessy! Zach is playing the Human Psychic, Artura! Jeff is playing the hobgoblin Wizard, Sortok! Tina is playing the dwarf Inquisitor, Nell! A new homebrewed class from Atune-A-Wizard Press, where the rules can be purchased at Drive-Thru-RPG at Inquisitor  Steve is playing the human champion, Sir Ren!   Thanks to our sponsor Die Hard Dice you can use our discount code of SpicyNVNG that is good for 10% off your entire purchase!!!   You can also ask us questions for our cast to answer on our podcast by contacting us through our socials below or emailing us directly at nvngpodcast@gmail.com Check out our new website, and our Socials below: https://www.nvngpodcast.com/ Facebook YouTube Twitter Instagram Twitch   You can also find us on Spotify, iTunes, Apple Podcasts, and Google Play. Music provided by StreamBeats Synthwave albums Ego, Lone Wolf, Renegade, Breaker, and Sunset by Harris Heller/Senpai Records. https://www.streambeats.com/ Music and sounds also provided by Pocket Bard, try out their app today at their website below, or on PC, and on Apple and Android Devices! https://www.pocketbard.app/   Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gamed LLC, uses trademarks and/or copyrights owned by Paizo Inc., which are used under Paizo's Community Use Policy. We are expressly prohibited from charging you to use or access this content. This stream/podcast is not published, endorsed, or specifically approved by Paizo Inc. For more information about Paizo's Community Use Policy, please visit paizo.com/communityuse. For more information about Paizo Inc. and Paizo products, please visit paizo.com

In this episode, Caroline is joined by Grace Lillian Lee, a visionary Australian artist and leader deeply rooted in her Torres Strait Island heritage. With a Bachelor of Design in Fashion, Grace's journey as an artist has been nothing short of remarkable. It was on a trip back home to Island/Country with her Grandmother in 2010 that Grace was introduced to the art of weaving. Since then she has specialised in Grasshopper weaving and has been using this traditional technique to create contemporary body sculptures and artworks that resonate with her cultural and storytelling. Caroline and Grace yarn about the founding of First Nations Fashion + Design, a not-for-profit organisation dedicated to promoting cultural expression and representation within the fashion and design sectors. Hear about her collaborations with Indigenous communities and how she is helping to create strong, creative networks.    Excitedly, Grace also shared plans of expanding her creative practice in 2024, launching her own line of wearable art and one of a kind Torres Strait Islander handmade necklaces.    To follow Grace visit her Instagram page here, or visit her website to browse her incredible work If you enjoyed this episode, please leave a review and don't forget to follow the show!  Follow Caroline on Instagram @blak_wattle_coaching and learn more about working with Caroline here!  We would like to acknowledge Aboriginal people as Australia's First Peoples' who have never ceded their sovereignty. We acknowledge the Wurundjeri/Woiwurrung people of the Kulin Nation where the podcast was taped. We pay our deepest respects to Traditional Owners across Australia and Elders past, pre and emerging. This podcast was brought to you by On Track Studio. www.ontrackstudio.com.au @on.track.studio For advertising opportunities please email hello@ontrackstudio.com.auSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

For the next few days, you can listen to a couple of stories every single day.And That's because on our podcast we will have some special storytellers!! We have middle and high school students who through the summer have been learning about how to craft their own stories and then produce them on a podcast.Free activity sheet available at www.rituvaish.com/podcast-summer-camp Let's give a warm welcome VaanikaTranscriptA HeistSplash! A hot summer afternoon was the perfect time to go swimming, or at least four siblings thought so. Daisy and Lily were both 11 years old. Daisy tended to forget things, while luckily Lily's memory was strong.“Daisy, just so you don't forget, let me remind you, we need to pack caps, swimsuits, goggles, scuba-diving sets and oxygen masks for emergencies,” Lily reminded Daisy for the third time that morning.Jivaran was Daisy and Lily's younger brother. Incontrast to his looks, especially his  fierce eyes, he was innocent and kind at heart. He had a fiery temper, and only Daisy's peaceful words could calm him down. Jasmine was a year younger than Jivaran. This nine-year old girl had innocent inquisitive eyes. She was very fast runner and was also a prodigy in science and mathematics. The four kids jumped down into the water – sometimes splashing water on other and sometimes swimming.“Good thing I know how to swim, this lake is very deep”, Jivaran commented.‘We all know how to swim', Lily said. “Come on, let us go to the other side of the lake”. Excitedly, the three kids followed Lily towards the other side of the lake. Jasmine suddenly shouted, “Wait, the water is becoming hot and black. Jump out right now. Don't ask why”. They came out of the lake frantically. Jasmine bit her lips and her hands fumbled. They ran into the hut and dried themselves quickly. (Jasmine picked up two chemicals and an empty bottle from the shelf.) – I had told you to add this while packing..how are there specific chemicals in the hut??)  She poured a few drops of both chemicals into the empty bottle. Running outside towards the lake, she poured the contents of the bottle into the water.“A water poisoner must have been spilled into the water that turned it hot and black. I mixed the right chemicals from our hut to make this solution. I read about this antidote in a chemistry book. It reverses the poisoning process, however, needs to be done within the first 10 minutes of being added,”, Jasmine explained. “Hurry, let us wear our oxygen masks and dive in to save anybody who is still in the lake”.“Last year, grandfather gifted us these electronic devices that we can use to communicate through any medium, including water. Let's us take them with us too. They are insulated and safe to use”, Jivaran suggested. They all dived in and started to hear voices.“Johnson, why did you spill the chemical? Now there are very little chances of you being able to train at the ‘Kron Krutz Academy' next month,” a gruff voice said.“K.K.A! We have to stop them,” Daisy exclaimed.“I packed chains, maybe we can use them now to lock them up,” Jasmine advised.The siblings carefully sneaked behind the men and locked them up.“Who are you?” Jivaran asked.“Name's Herbet Krutz. This is my student, Triv Jhonson. What do you want?” Herbet Krutz said.He broke the chains and pulled a lever. Suddenly, the children were stuck in a tiny jail. Herbet and Triv laughed wickedly at them. Jasmine was lost in her thoughts.“The “Kron Krutz Colony has to be put out of business. They know how to make new kinds of bombs to annihilate their enemies if peace was denied. K.K.C has the dangerous documents. We must act fast,” Jivaran explained.“Aha! The jail is not covered from the top. We can swim up, hurry,” Jasmine exclaimed.They swam out, taking all of the documents that K.K.C took. They called the police the moment they were out. The police observed the documents and said, “Good work, children. But where are the thieves?”“All under the lake,” Daisy giggled.The police arrested each and every member of the K.K.C. The net day, the case came out in the newspaper of how Four children saved the world from K.K.C's bad intentions. The four siblings were very happ

Chris Carter, the creative force behind the acclaimed series The X-Files, has expressed his excitement and approval for the upcoming reboot by director Ryan Coogler. Originally debuting in 1993, The X-Files gained immense popularity for its gripping narrative centred around FBI agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, played by David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, respectively. The series, known for its unique blend of paranormal investigations and intricate alien conspiracies, became a cultural phenomenon. Despite not being directly involved in Coogler's project, Carter welcomes the fresh perspective and diversity promised by the reboot. Coogler's take on the iconic series, now owned by Disney post the acquisition of 20th Century Fox, is highly anticipated by fans eagerly awaiting the revival of this beloved classic.

Fluent Fiction - Hungarian: Budapest's Linguistic Symphony: Deciphering the Beauty of Hungarian Grammar Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.org/budapests-linguistic-symphony-deciphering-the-beauty-of-hungarian-grammar Story Transcript:Hu: Budapesten, a Duna sima felületén csillant fel a nap első fénye. Itt van István és Emese, egy csodálatosan értelmes pár, mindketten híres magyar nyelvtudósok. Az épületek gyönyörűen festették a hajnali égboltot, az utcák még mindig pisla fényt mutattak, míg a várossal átaludta az éjszakát.En: In Budapest, the first light of the sun sparkled on the smooth surface of the Danube. Here are István and Emese, a wonderfully intelligent couple, both famous Hungarian linguists. The buildings beautifully painted the dawn sky, the streets still showing faint light, while the city slept through the night.Hu: Emese konyhájának ablakát kihajtva a parkra nézett, amint a közeli padnál gondolkodott, ahol mindig a tanításukra készültek. Kávét főzött maguknak, és elgondolkozott azon, hogyan tanítsák meg a külföldieket a magyar nyelvtan rejtelmeire. Azt remélte, hogy István segíteni tud neki ebben a kihívásban.En: Emese, leaning out the window of her kitchen, looked out onto the park, contemplating at the nearby bench where they always prepared for their teachings. She brewed coffee for them and pondered how to teach foreigners the mysteries of Hungarian grammar. She hoped István could help her in this endeavor.Hu: István éppen átdolgozott egy szöveget a mosogató felett, próbálván a magyar nyelvtant mint egy kirakós játékot megfejteni. Gondolkodó arccal jegyzeteket írt, majd összegyűrte őket, és újrafogalmazta gondolatait, hogy a nyelvtant elérhetőbbé tegye mások számára.En: István was revising a text over the sink, trying to decipher Hungarian grammar like solving a puzzle. With a pensive expression, he wrote notes and then crumpled them up, rephrasing his thoughts to make the grammar more accessible to others.Hu: "Mire gondolsz, István?" - kérdi Emese, amint megkínálja kávéval.En: "What are you thinking, István?" asked Emese as she offered him coffee.Hu: "A szavak kerekítésén", válaszolt István, majd belekortyolt a kávéjába. "Ezt próbálom úgy bemutatni, mint egy vizuális képet, mintha egy szobrot faragott volna valaki. A szavakat formálja, kerekíti, hogy illeszkedjenek a mondatban."En: "About rounding words," István replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "I'm trying to present it as a visual image, as if someone had sculpted a statue. They shape and round the words to fit into the sentence."Hu: Emese bólintott. "Jó ötlet. Érthető, és mégis szemlélteti a nyelvünket."En: Emese nodded. "Good idea. It's understandable and yet illustrates our language."Hu: Napokig dolgoztak, végül szerkesztetnek, javítanak, finomítanak, hogy a magyar nyelvtant érthetővé tegyék. A városban egyre többen érdeklődtek a projekttel szemben, és összegyűjtöttek egy közönséget, hogy megosszák velük munkájuk gyümölcsét.En: For days, they worked, edited, corrected, refined to make Hungarian grammar understandable. More and more people in the city became interested in their project, and they gathered an audience to share the fruits of their labor.Hu: A tanítás napja végül eljött, és Izabella parkban tartották. Izgatottan osztották meg tudásukat, a hallgatók pedig nagy figyelemmel hallgattak. Néhányan matekosan gondolkodtak, mások a vízióikban vagy zenei képeikben találtak összefüggést a magyar nyelvtanban.En: The day of teaching finally arrived, held in Izabella Park. Excitedly, they shared their knowledge, and the students listened attentively. Some thought mathematically, while others found connections to their visions or musical imagery in Hungarian grammar.Hu: Végül, amikor a tanításnak vége lett, István és Emese büszkén nézett egymásra. Végül sikerült a külföldieknek megmutatniuk a magyar nyelvtan szépségét, ráadásul úgy, hogy az egyszerű és érthető volt. A közönségük dicséretétől hajtva elhivatottságuk csak tovább erősödött a nyelvi térkép ábrázolásában, ami minden kérdésre választ ad.En: Finally, as the teaching came to an end, István and Emese proudly looked at each other. They had successfully shown the beauty of Hungarian grammar to foreigners, in a way that was simple and understandable. Driven by the praise of their audience, their dedication only strengthened in representing the linguistic map, providing answers to every question.Hu: Mindannyian maguk mögött hagyhatják a félreértéseket és a bonyolultságokat, és eljutnak az egyszerűhöz: a nyelvtanhoz és annak kényszerítő, mégis szép logikájához.En: They could leave misunderstandings and complexities behind, reaching for simplicity: the grammar and its compelling yet beautiful logic. Vocabulary Words:István: IstvánEmese: EmeseBudapest: BudapestenDanube: DunaHungarian: magyarlinguists: nyelvtudósokcoffee: kávégrammar: nyelvtanteach: tanítlanguage: nyelvunderstandable: érthetőbeautiful: gyönyörűpuzzle: kirakóscity: városwindow: ablakpark: parkbench: padwork: dolgozniknowledge: tudásstudents: hallgatókmathematically: matekosansimplify: egyszerűsítlogic: logikaproject: projektaudience: közönségforeigners: külföldieklearning: tanulássimple: egyszerűcompelling: kényszerítő

The passage from the Book of Luke, chapter 24, verses 28 to 35, recounts the encounter of two disciples with Jesus on the road to a village. Initially, they did not recognize him, but as they sat down to eat and Jesus broke the bread, their eyes were opened, and they realized it was him. Upon this realization, Jesus disappeared from their sight. Excitedly, they returned to Jerusalem to share the news with the other disciples. The significance of this encounter lies in the revelation that Jesus made himself known to them through the breaking of bread, symbolizing Holy Communion. This story shows how Jesus revealed himself through sharing bread, which represents Holy Communion. It teaches us that Holy Communion is more than just a ritual; it's a way to experience Jesus's presence and healing power.Stay connected with us:https://www.jioswm.org/ https://www.facebook.com/JIOSWMofficialhttps://www.youtube.com/@JIOSWMofficialhttps://twitter.com/JIOSWMofficialhttps://www.instagram.com/jioswmofficialhttps://vt.tiktok.com/ZSRR2g4DG/https://pin.it/DAyWW0E

On this episode Marc and George take you on a culinary and conversational adventure that tickles your taste buds. Join them as they embark on a delightful escapade to their local indian curry house. As they step into the vibrant atmsosphere of the curry house, Marc and George dive into an evening of tantalizing flavours and the conversation flows, along with the beers.... Suddenly after a belly of food Marc and George find themselves struck by an idea; why not share their experience with the world. Excitedly they make their way back to The Studio On The Hill, a place of tranquility and creative inspiration. Behind the studio microphones, our hosts dive into an engaging discussion, recounting their adventures from the eventful year of 2023. That's not all you'll find out that Marc and George also reveal their aspirations and dreams for the upcoming year, 2024. From personal goals to exciting projects, they discuss their plans and ambitions, inspiring listeners to embrace their own potential and take bold steps towards their dreams.  

Fluent Fiction - French: The Baguette Mishap: A Whimsical Tale of Love and Laughter in Paris Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.org/the-baguette-mishap-a-whimsical-tale-of-love-and-laughter-in-paris Story Transcript:Fr: Parmi les lumières scintillantes et les rues pavées de Paris, Pierre, un homme passionné par la culture et la tradition françaises, vivait une vie simple et joyeuse. Ce jour-là, il décida d'emmener sa nouvelle amie, Marie, explorer les charmes de la ville. C'est sur l'avenue Montaigne qu'ils furent attirés par l'odeur du pain chaud d'une boulangerie.En: Among the glittering lights and cobblestone streets of Paris, Pierre, a man passionate about French culture and tradition, lived a simple and joyful life. That day, he decided to take his new friend, Marie, to explore the charms of the city. It was on Avenue Montaigne that they were drawn to the smell of fresh bread from a bakery.Fr: "Bonjour! Une baguette s'il vous plaît," demanda Pierre à la boulangère. La boulangère lui donna une baguette croustillante, mais dans la précipitation, Pierre prit accidentellement la baguette d'une autre cliente sur le comptoir. Il ne se rendit pas compte de sa méprise. Racontant avec enthousiasme à Marie l'histoire de chaque ruelle, Pierre s'éloigna, tenant la mauvaise baguette.En: "Bonjour! One baguette, please," Pierre asked the baker. The baker gave him a crispy baguette, but in his haste, Pierre accidentally took another customer's baguette from the counter. He didn't realize his mistake. Excitedly recounting the story of each street to Marie, Pierre walked away, holding the wrong baguette.Fr: Le vent leur apporta la voix paniquée d'une femme derrière eux. "Ma baguette!" cria-t-elle. Marie se retourna et vit la femme en colère. Elle ressentit un choc d'embarras. Marie dévisagea Pierre, attendant une explication.En: The wind carried the panicked voice of a woman behind them. "My baguette!" she shouted. Marie turned around and saw the angry woman. She felt a shock of embarrassment. Marie looked at Pierre, waiting for an explanation.Fr: "Ahhh, Marie," commença Pierre avec un sourire embarrassé, "C'est une coutume française. Parfois, nous... eh bien, nous échangeons nos baguettes! Un échange spontané de saveurs, voyez-vous?"En: "Ah, Marie," started Pierre with an embarrassed smile, "It's a French tradition. Sometimes, we... well, we exchange our baguettes! A spontaneous exchange of flavors, you see?"Fr: Marie baissa les yeux vers la baguette dans les mains de Pierre, confuse. "Vraiment, Pierre? Je n'ai jamais entendu parler de cette tradition."En: Marie glanced down at the baguette in Pierre's hands, confused. "Really, Pierre? I've never heard of this tradition."Fr: Riant, Pierre répliqua: "Oh, c'est une tradition très secrète, seulement les vrais Français la connaissent!"En: Laughing, Pierre replied, "Oh, it's a very secret tradition, only true French people know it!"Fr: Malgré leur rire et le charme de Pierre, Marie n'était pas entièrement convaincue. Cependant, elle décida de lui donner le bénéfice du doute.En: Despite their laughter and Pierre's charm, Marie wasn't entirely convinced. However, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.Fr: Pendant ce temps, la pauvre femme criait toujours dans la rue. Finalement, Pierre sut qu'il devait avouer. Ils firent demi-tour et Pierre retourna la baguette à la cliente, lui expliquant son erreur. "C'était un malentendu," dit-il, "J'ai pris la mauvaise baguette."En: Meanwhile, the poor woman continued to cry out in the street. Eventually, Pierre knew he had to confess. They turned around and Pierre returned the baguette to the customer, explaining his mistake. "It was a misunderstanding," he said, "I took the wrong baguette."Fr: La dame le remercia et Pierre acheta une nouvelle baguette pour lui et Marie. Ils continuaient de rire à propos de la "tradition de l'échange de baguettes" alors qu'ils marchaient main dans la main le long de la Seine.En: The lady thanked him, and Pierre bought a new baguette for him and Marie. They continued to laugh about the "tradition of exchanging baguettes" as they walked hand in hand along the Seine.Fr: Ce soir-là, lorsque les étoiles éclairaient Paris, Pierre et Marie finirent leur baguette devant la Tour Eiffel. Avec un rire, Pierre dit: "Au fait, Marie... il n'y a pas vraiment de tradition d'échange de baguettes."En: That evening, as the stars illuminated Paris, Pierre and Marie finished their baguette in front of the Eiffel Tower. With a laugh, Pierre said, "By the way, Marie... there isn't really a tradition of exchanging baguettes."Fr: Finalement, en dépit de cet incident hilarant, Marie adora Paris et la compagnie de Pierre. La baguette échangée était un souvenir qu'ils chériraient toujours.En: Ultimately, despite this hilarious incident, Marie loved Paris and the company of Pierre. The exchanged baguette became a cherished memory for them. Vocabulary Words:Paris: ParisPierre: Pierrepassionate: passionnéFrench: françaiseculture: culturetradition: traditionsimple: simplejoyful: joyeuseexplore: explorercharms: charmescity: villesmell: odeurfresh: chaudbread: painbakery: boulangeriebaguette: baguetteplease: s'il vous plaîtbaker: boulangèrecrispy: croustillanteaccidentally: accidentellementcounter: comptoirmistake: mépriseexcitedly: avec enthousiasmestory: histoirestreet: rueembarrassment: embarraslaughter: rirememory: souvenirdelicious: délicieux

The Rashab revealed that the Mitteler Rebbe had documented this discovery years ago. https://www.torahrecordings.com/rebbe/igroskodesh/012/003/3918

Have you ever thought about how your nervous system relates to birth? You can't birth if you don't feel safe. Today on Yoga| Birth| Babies, we are going to talk about Polyvagal Theory and Birth. My guest approached me about this topic and I realized I didn't know much about it. Excitedly, I did my own research and was amazed with what I discovered. Polyvagal Theory and Birth needs to be talked about more. It's about our nervous systems being regulated. This makes so much sense about the importance of feeling safe, secure and connected to our body when we think about birth. Learning to connect to your nervous system is so important!  To have this conversation I have my dear friend and colleague, Chantal Traub. She's a NYC birth facilitator, doula, CBE, and menopause coach. She has 20 years of practice and has been internationally acclaimed for her expertise on the pelvic floor and her Pushing Power technique, which is taught here at PYC.  Chantal shares her stories on birth and how the Polyvagal Theory relates to the births she's attended. I'm very honored to share this special episode and topic with you.  Get the most out of each episode by checking out the show notes with links, resources and other related podcasts at: prenatalyogacenter.com  Don't forget to grab your FREE guide, 5 Simple Solutions to the Most Common Pregnancy Pains HERE  If you love what you've been listening to, please leave a rating and review! Yoga| Birth|Babies (Apple) or on Spotify! To connect with Deb and the PYC Community:  Instagram & Facebook: @prenatalyogacenter Youtube: Prenatal Yoga Center Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

We rank teams at the start of every college football season even though we don't know how good these teams actually are. Then we all overreact and yell about upsets when many of these teams may just actually not be very good. Why do we do this to ourselves?Plus, does it seem like there are fewer roly poly bugs and fireflies out in the world? And we discuss what our player swag bags would be if Sports R Dumb sponsored a bowl game.We also hear an update about Sean's hockey team — the playoffs are upon us!

LockBit struggles to publish leaked data Google's quantum resilient security key Organizations optimistic and unprepared for AI Huge thanks to today's episode sponsor, Veza 75% of breaches happen because of bad permissions. The problem is that you don't know exactly WHO has access to WHAT data in your environment. For example, roles labeled as “read-only” can often edit and delete sensitive data. Veza automatically finds and fixes every bad permission—in every app—across your environment.

As we step back in time to 1997, we rejoice in both the fan and band experience as they share their experiences of being on tour again after a nearly 3-year hiatus.   With patrons and listeners diving deep on what was the Elegantly Wasted Tour, we hear insights from gigs in Scotland, and Los Angeles amidst several prominent tour destinations but excitedly hear from the band as they did the media rounds between gigs.   With excerpts from interviews including Jon Stewart and Rosie O'Donnell, we hear a band enjoying being back on stage together making vital and meaningful music. We also may get an answer from Michael Hutchence himself regarding the rumoured “better than Oasis” refrain that did the rounds during the band's globetrotting endeavours.   Excitedly, INXS Access All Areas gets all retro with the “Return of the Rant” and Bee's 1997 “Pleasure and Pain” which has 90% bangers and only 10% clunkers! Additionally, we present an early news section with some genuine newsworthy nuggets.   So, do yourself a favour and block out the world as it argues and enjoy some peace and happiness! To Enter the NEW Raffle purchase your ticket here https://www.inxsaccessallareas.com/product-page/new-raffle     https://www.viciousthreads.shop/collections/public-opinion-music?fbclid=IwAR1KInpPmFEB9pZ06Nf0tAEothU_TVC_fcEfPYCnArBDF5jp0P7tvscAh8E   The Max Q Poll https://www.inxsaccessallareas.com/post/inxs-podcast-poll   To become a Patron https://www.inxsaccessallareas.com/plans-pricing   Have you signed the petition? https://www.change.org/p/induct-inxs   Subscribe to our website and leave a comment. We always enjoy reading your feedback. https://www.inxsaccessallareas.com/    

Paul Braunstein, such a talented actor! I am really glad to have had the opportunity to interview him... The reason why I wanted to interview him is because he is the first actor in the movie to be infected with the alien parasite, and for me that is a very big deal. Being the first to die in any horror movie is a big deal to me... And, I had to confirm with him to find out when in the movie his character was attacked and cloned. These things I need to know (and to confirm fan theories). Overall, The Thing (2011) is still in my Top 10 favorite horror movies and yes, I have concluded that this version is up there with John Carpenter's from 1982. Excitedly exceeding the talents of all other actors, Mr. Braunstein has reached that level in my opinion with his phenomenal acting talent and very impressive resume'. Although this version of being the prequel has made John Carpenter's movie a sequel; nonetheless and overall an outstanding movie. Now if we can get a director or producer to come up with a third rendition because the damn dog is still alive (I think). I could be wrong, but who knows... --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/southjerseyhorror/message

Episode Summary This week on Live Like the World is Dying, Burdock and Margaret talk about the overlap between Earth Skills and preparedness as well as going over the basics of how to preserve animal hides, how to process road kill for food, and why you probably don't want to eat roadkill. Trust your nose on that one Guest Info Burdock (she/they) can be found on Instagram @Scagetywocket Host Info Margaret can be found on twitter @magpiekilljoy or instagram at @margaretkilljoy. Publisher Info This show is published by Strangers in A Tangled Wilderness. We can be found at www.tangledwilderness.org, or on Twitter @TangledWild and Instagram @Tangled_Wilderness. You can support the show on Patreon at www.patreon.com/strangersinatangledwilderness. Transcript Live Like the World is Dying: Burdock on Earth Skills and Road Kills Margaret 00:14 Hello and welcome to Live Like the World is Dying, your podcast for what feels like the end times. I'm today's host, Margaret Killjoy. And I'm really excited to be talking about this stuff that we're gonna be talking about today because it's something I've been wanting to talk about since I first started the show. We're going to be talking about the primitive skills scene. And in specific, we're going to talk a bit about roadkill and we're going to talk about tanning hides of animals that have been destroyed by the mechanisms of industrial civilization. And I'm excited to get into that. But first, this podcast is a proud member of the Channel Zero Network of anarchist podcasts. And here's a jingle from another show on the network da da duh duh da daa. [Singing a melody] Margaret 01:38 Okay, we're back. Okay. So if you could introduce yourself with your name, your pronouns. And then I guess a little bit about how you got into the stuff that we're going to be talking about today? Burdock 01:48 Yes, Hi. I'm Burdock. And I use she/they pronouns interchangeably. No preference. And I got into this stuff about 10-11 years ago, living in a city my whole life and being like, "This is not working for me at all. And I want to live in a completely different way." And I went to crazy intense primitive skills school because that was like, the thing I found that resonated the most with me, and it was really traumatizing. But I also learned a lot. And since then, I've been continuing to explore communities and practice those things on my own largely. Margaret 02:30 Okay. What's primitive skills? To start at the like, super basic, right? This the thing where YouTube influencers get money out of people to fake build things in the woods? [Said with dry sarcasm] Burdock 02:45 [Laughing] Totally. That is definitely one of the things. That is one of the many ways that it manifests in the world. And also, like, a lot of people hate the term "primitive skills." I think it's not great. [Margaret makes an affirmative sound] But it is like, the most known term for this realm I'm talking about. And so I usually use it just so people understand what I'm talking about, that I don't have to be like, "Earth skills, ancestral skills, primitive skills," and I don't know, I think "earth skills," is like, the best in a way. But yeah, acknowledging right now that this whole thing is like rife with cultural appropriation. And there's definitely like conversations happening around that in parts of the primitive skill scene, earth skills scene. Margaret 03:45 No, it's called Earth skills. [Said jokingly, but seriously] Burdock 03:47 Yeah, I'm gonna go with Earth skills from here forward. It feels it feels better. Anyway. So, Earth skills broadly refers to all of the ways that humans lived for most of our time here on Earth. Like pre pretty much pre....I don't know there's even metal smithing included in a lot of like Earth skills gatherings and stuff...So, but like, usually very, still very, like, land-based, like wood forges and stuff, but pre-agriculture, pre industrial revolution. But, there is some agriculture stuff because like, I think it's a bit of a myth that like, agriculture equals industrial society equals capitalism equals bad, right? Margaret 04:38 Yeah, no. Okay. So that is like, kind of my question is like, what skills are included in this kind of place? Like so Earth skills, I assume it's like hunting, gardening--I mean, in my mind, I'm so used to like survival stuff, so I'm like building emergency shelters filtering your water--but I assume it's also like, building more permanent structure and making your own clothes? Like like what? What kind of different stuff are people doing? Burdock 05:07 Yeah, I'd say the standbys are fire by friction, like ways of making fire from only materials you're harvesting from the land, foraging for food and medicine and other useful plant materials, animal processing, so, you know, post post hunting, what do you do with the body of the animal that you killed? Hunting is definitely there. And weapon making as well, making weapons just from what's on the landscape around you, just from what you can find. Shelter building. And I think the theme, the theme that runs throughout all of these is "Just from the land around you and maybe you have a knife." But I teach friction fire with no knife, so that varies a lot. There's pottery with local wild clay and how to process that clay so you can actually make pots with it. Basket making--which is also something I do--with materials you're foraging and how to forage for those materials or how to propagate them, how to process them. Totally different from, you know, the materials being prepared for you and you're just going for it. Yeah. Yeah. And I'm sure I'm forgetting tons of stuff. Margaret 06:38 Yeah, no, I'm, I'm sure, too. And I...it's been a while since I've been around people who are particularly into this, but I it's been interesting to be around. Okay, I have a bunch of questions about it, though. So one of them is, what role does this have in the modern world? Like, what? And I'm sure that's something that people talk about within this, you know, scene or community and stuff, but like, what...or like, sell me or the listener on getting into this kind of stuff? Like, what's it about? Burdock 07:10 I think it's about different things to different people. And what it's about, to me is resilience and becoming a more resourceful kind of creative person, having more options of ways to live. I get to disengage from a lot of the kind of modern society stuff when I choose to engage in those skills, which for my life has been important because I have like sensory processing stuff. And so being able to, like, escape from the barrage has been really important. And I think different people have different reasons for needing to get away from that. Even just traveling, like it's making my traveling life easier. Even stuff, like being able to pee stealthily or find like spots in the woods to like, have an anxiety attack. Like, all of these skills are really practical in just surviving the modern world the way it is now. Like, even if things stay exactly how they are. And, you know, there is this idea of, "Oh, if stuff gets worse I'm going to be prepared in all these ways. And I can like, share these...I can teach the skills that I know to other people so that they can deal with whatever's happening." And, you know, including just stuff like blackouts that are short or natural disasters. Like that's definitely part of it, too. But a huge part of it for me is just the selfishness needed to protect my senses. Margaret 09:01 That makes a lot of sense to me. And one of the things that's kind of come up more recently on this show as I interview different people is realizing there's all of these different means by which people engage in nature, right? And I know that...I kind of at some point, I don't know if I have the brainwidth to do it, the brain space to do it right now, I want to problematize the idea of nature, problematize the idea that nature is this separate thing that is distinct from humans, and even--if you want to piss off people--it's even a separate thing that it's not separate from industrial society, right? Like anything that humans make. But there's all of these different ways that people interact with nature. And it's like really interesting to see which ones are useful for people now in the world to learn how to disengage and which ones are useful for people in different kinds of collapse scenarios, different disasters and things and so it's like...You know, I haven't had on someone to talk specifically about bushcraft, but It seems like bushcraft is almost the like step more modern than like what you do, right? Like, because like bushcraft would be like, "Well, you have your saw on your axe and you can build your log cabin, right?" Which is in some ways, I think the least sustainable way for modern people to go interact with nature. But maybe I'm only saying that because I haven't interviewed a bushcraft person who's gonna sell me on it really well. And then you have Earth skills, which is like the least--not necessarily the least impactful--but the least, requires the least resources, right? Versus you have the ways that outdoor athletes, like hikers, and skiers, and snowboarders--I don't know, I don't know anything about winter--interact with it, versus the way that like hunters interact with it, right? And there's like all of these different ways that people interact with and I'm really interested about it. So that's like...what you're talking about, like, here's how to go... Like, I don't know how to start a fire by friction. I've seen people do it. I still don't really believe it. It doesn't seem real because I've tried. But it's really, really hard, I think. I don't know, Burdock 11:07 It's really hard because these skills need to be passed down from person to person. And in a lot of cultures it's like cultural information. It's encoded in the songs, and in the stories, and it's encoded in everything. And so even as a child, if no one's showing you how to do it, you know from the stories and the songs maybe what plants on the landscape are useful for that. And you've seen people around you do it. Most people when they're trying to start friction fire they maybe have never even seen people do it before. They just have this concept in their mind of like rubbing sticks together, or like they saw it a little bit in a video, or they even watched a tutorial on how to do it. But, that's not enough because you learn these things through the senses. You have to be able to see and touch and hear. And when you can't do that, it's really hard to learn them. Margaret 12:01 Ya, no. That makes sense. Also, usually I here now make a joke about how everything that I don't understand is fake. But, I actually don't want to here. I do it about fishing usually. Usually my joke is that fishing is fake. But, I've seen people start friction fires and it's cool. So, one of the main reasons to learn this is for the here and now, is like ways to disconnect, and ways to you know, go out and engage in nature, again, the loaded word, "nature." Okay, so one of the things I think that we talked about wanting to talk about now is where earth skills fit within the sort of subset of prepping. Like, I am under the impression that the Earth skills scene, for example, is like kind of a prepping scene in some ways, just not the same as the one that most people know about. Burdock 12:50 Yeah, it's a lot like bushcraft, and it's a lot like even like backpacking, and it's a lot like homesteading, and it's a lot like all these things. And then the core difference is like basically starting from scratch-scratch. Like you're making all the tools that you're using to do all these projects. You're...If you have a backpack, you're like making that backpack and you have to make the material that the backpack is made out of like... Margaret 13:22 You have to make nylon. [Laughing]. Burdock 13:25 Right, you have to make the nylon. You have to go harvest the oil and process it. [Probably said jokingly] Margaret 13:29 [Incredulously] Do people do that? Burdock 13:30 I recently went to a gathering where you had to drive past this like oil well thing that was just like actually actively pumping oil from the Earth. Margaret 13:40 Oh my God. Burdock 13:41 It was actually a great reality check, though. Because it's like, "Oh, we're going to this gathering. We're all pretending that we live in this like beautiful, ideal community where everybody wears natural clothes and stuff." And it's like, yeah, this is...We're all driving here. Like we're all involved in this. Margaret 14:00 Well, and it gets into this--I want to come back to the prepping thing, but I want to follow on this tangent really quick--It gets into this thing that I think about a lot. I've been like camping and hiking more a lot recently--mostly because I realized I can because I work on a computer on my own schedule for living. And like mostly I read history books for a living and I'm like, "I can do that in a hammock in the woods." And so I've been trying to do that. And one of the things that's like been really striking me is this reminder that there like is no outside. And I mean that--like I mean there's like outside the house--but there's like no outside of society, like there's no...Like the closest we have are like wilderness areas, at least in continental US you know is where I hang out, right, but there's like...You're not...Like, we're like choosing to not bring Fritos with us, right? It's not that the Fritos aren't available to us, you know. And like...And at least the way I do it, I'm like driving there and stuff, but also it's like, even when I go find like the free dispersed camping and stuff, there's like tons of other people around, which is actually fine. It helps break--So I kind of wonder whether Earth skills falls into this a little more than it should--it helps break the like frontiersman mentality, the like, "I'm going to go tame nature," and that's like something that's always kind of...Not rubbed me the wrong way about all Earth skills, but like seemed like a danger available to the Earth skills community. But maybe I'm completely off base. I don't know how people handle that or talk about it. Burdock 15:26 No, that's really on point. I think there's a lot of like...There's a lot of bizarre ways...I feel like within the Earth skills community, what I see the most is people having this like reverential, like, "I have this spiritual connection with the Earth and with these plants." And there's this kind of disconnect, in a way, with like..Yeah, I don't know how they're actually living their lives, how they're actually behaving. Like, I feel like people don't acknowledge enough, like, "I regard the world and the earth in this way, but I also am exploiting it in the way that I live, too. And I'm playing a part in..." You know, like, some of these people are rich. Some of the people who do this stuff, they have land and that's why they have enough time to learn how to tan hides, like as a hobby, you know? And there's no acknowledgment there of like, that's contributing to this, like, apocalypse thing that's being foretold in like Tom Brown's--he's a primitive skills teacher guy--prophecy, doomsday stuff, like... Margaret 16:54 No, that makes sense. Because it's like most people...Most people who are making money through Capitalism or whatever like at large scale--not like people who work at Starbucks or whatever because they have to--the people that like own Starbucks. The person who owns Starbucks might be able to have like, a million acres somewhere that they can keep pristine so they can go around and build huts or whatever, but they're doing that by like, destroying the shit out of Central America or whatever, you know? Burdock 17:19 Right! Margaret 17:21 It's interesting. And, okay. I'm actually really interested in Earth skills stuff and so it sounds like I'm talking shit, but I really don't mean it this way. Burdock 17:29 No, you gotta talk shit about it. I talk shit about it because I love it and I want it to be good. Margaret 17:33 Yeah, no, it makes sense. I wonder whether how much--at least again, in the continental US--settler people, like white people in the United States, how much there's like this, like...I kind of hate framing things....I hate publicly framing things this way because I don't know how to do it better. But, like, I feel like there's this curse, where people like want to have a certain type of connection and almost just like can't because it's just cursed to them. Because...Not because of blood or something, but because of being a settler of a culture that has come and destroyed this place. You know? And so it feels like trying to...It's not...It's still worth trying to engage in stuff. But it feels like there's this like insurmountable or very hard to surmount curse that disconnects us. And when I'm using us, I--I actually don't know anything about you--it disconnects me and other white people from connecting in certain ways with this specific land. And I...I don't know how to say it better than that because I'm not trying to make this like...Well, I mean, I believe in the decolonization of the US, like, on a political level, right, I believe that the United States is an empire that should not exist and occupies stolen land that should be, you know, returned. But, I'm still not trying to make a like permanent proclamation about something on a spiritual level. But I just I feel like there's like this thing that has to be overcome. And I don't know whether it's possible. I think I gave you a really easy question there. [Jokingly] Burdock 19:08 I love it, because this is what I think about all the time. And I agree with all of those...like everything you said about this country, basically. Like, I'm on the same page. And it's been something I've been thinking about a lot because when I started doing this 11 years ago, that stuff wasn't on my mind. Like, I was just like, "I'm 19. I don't like living in a city." And as I've...You know, and the school, I went to appropriated a lot. And I've been to gatherings where there's a lot of appropriation and it wasn't on my radar. And then it's been thanks to a lot of the work that indigenous people are doing and black people are doing in that I've like, come into this awareness like...But, it's also been through the plants and the land themselves. Burdock 20:00 It had to come over time. Like when I was at that school 10 years ago, we harvested wild rice. And that...that's like a real...it's the cornerstone of the traditions of all of the people who live where wild rice lives. And then I moved, and I was trying to continue harvesting wild rice and there were a lot of layers about it. Like, it kept not working out for me. And then it was like...I like...It kept not working out until in one way or another I accidentally gave tobacco to the water. And then it would be like, "Oh, now it's working." And so I figured that out. And then after I figured that out, I was really hearing from the land, like, for the first couple of years, it was like, "It's great that someone's here. It's great that someone's like, seeing us and acknowledging us. Like, we're the wild rice and we missed people." And the longer I listened, the more I was like, "Oh, you don't miss like me. You miss "the" people. Like, you miss "your" people and the songs and the stories and the way that those people live and the way that those people live with you. You miss them and I will never be able to be that for you." All I can do is hear that. And that doesn't really answer your question. But, it takes time and a lot of listening and moving at the speed of relationship. Margaret 20:00 No, that makes sense. Margaret 20:02 Okay, that makes sense. And I, you know, and I don't want to like specifically call out this community more than any other community, right? Like, I think that people engaging in a lot of this kind of stuff...Well, I don't know, I'm not in a place to make any kind of judgment about that. I'm not part of either the things that I'm talking about, but to people...Okay, so let's go back a step. We were talking about how Earth skills are a subset of prepping or of the prepping world. And I'm wondering if you want to talk more about that. Like, how does it engage with your own preparedness? How can communities use this kind of knowledge to become more resilient is like one of the big questions I have. Burdock 22:22 Yeah, I think most of the people who engage in Earth's skills aren't thinking very hard about how it actually applies to prepping, but they do believe in some kind of like, apocalyptic future. And that's one of the reasons that they do it. But they're like not thinking about it that hard. They're not thinking about it in real terms. Margaret 22:42 It's just a utopian thing for them. They're like, "Industrial civilization will collapse. And we'll all be free"? Burdock 22:46 There like, yeah there will be a lot of suffering, but like, you know, and then we'll be free and it'll be fine. Well, I'll live in huts in the woods. And nothing will be problematic anymore. Margaret 22:59 Yeah. Because there's...Then you get to have an outside once everyone's dead. That's one of my problems with it. Burdock 23:05 It doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense. And like, I used to kind of think that way before I really thought about it. And I'm like, I have too much like, compassion for human beings to wish for anything like that. Like some people want this, like doomsday type thing to happen. But yeah, natural disasters happen. Things happen all the time that we want to be prepared for. And, I just feel like me existing and having like this little library of skills in my brain and my body, it makes it so that anywhere that I am, all the people around me have that skill. And so if we're stuck in a situation where like, we don't have matches, we don't have a lighter. All this stuff happens spontaneously. Like, I know of more than one way to start fire without those things. And so yeah, just having any one person knowing any of those skills, it makes you more prepared for things...Like you can only prepare for so many things. Margaret 24:11 Yeah, totally. Burdock 24:12 Like you cannot like, "Oh yeah, I brought matches, but I didn't think about water filtration, or I dropped my water filtration device and it's never to be found again or." And also just like even if you have all those things, if you're in a long term situation, like you're gonna run out of matches. You're gonna run out a lighter fuel. Your clothing is gonna deteriorate. Like you do need to...Even if you even if you like have access to warehouses of this modern stuff, it's important to be passing down these skills person to person. And I think it changes the way that you engage with the world as it is presently, which I think needs to happen. Margaret 24:59 That It makes a lot of sense that. So, teaching these skills and learning these skills both makes you more prepared in the sense that you know how to start a fire if shit goes bad for a couple days and you know how to repair clothes or fix clothes or make clothes from scratch if shit does stays bad, but that also--I'm just saying back what I think what I think you're saying--but also, people learning these skills also teaches people like, nicer ways to engage with the environment that they're in and like more useful ways to...like less destructive ways of being. Is that kind of what you're saying? Burdock 25:35 It's having a different mindset, like... Margaret 25:41 A grind-set kind of deal. Burdock 25:42 I process a lot of roadkill. Margaret 25:43 The road kill grind set. Burdock 25:44 Yes, I process a lot of roadkill deer, the roadkill grind set next, and it's just changed the way I've thought about them a lot. Like, and how I think about all animals but particularly deer, like they're no longer just this, like, being I see in the distance in the land or like a see their dead bodies around, I'm just like, they, each one of them has a unique personality. Each one of them has led a life of like, that we cannot comprehend as humans, you know? And, and each one of them holds in their bodies, like the things that can keep us alive. And I mean that both on this like strictly physical level where it's like, there's bone tools, and there's meat to eat, and fat to eat, and there's connective tissue for bag making. And, like, there's that but it's also...it's also on an emotional level. It's also on a, on a spiritual level, if you're into that. Margaret 26:53 Okay, well, let's talk about roadkill because that's probably what's going to be the title of the episode. Maybe not. Maybe you all are listening to "Earth skills with Burdock," instead of "Roadkill with Burdock." I'm not sure. But yeah, okay, so like, so I see a dead thing. How rough should we start here? Like, cause some of the questions that people have about roadkill. right, one of the main questions is, "Can you eat that? Is that safe?" Right? That's like...And then there's like "How to?" Right? There's the like, "Can you?" and then "How to." And I guess there's two different things, there's the eating and then there's.... Burdock 27:35 Assessment. Margaret 27:36 Oh, okay. Oh, I was gonna say, well, there's the eating the animal and then there's the making stuff with the animal. Burdock 27:44 First there's the assessing of the animal. Margaret 27:47 Okay, so let's hear how to assess. I got really embarrassed once. I was...There was a roadkill deer on my property and my neighbor... Burdock 27:55 Oh, on your property. Margaret 27:56 Yeah. I live rurally. Or, I don't know if you're just taking us a jab at the fact that I'm referring to it as "my property." Burdock 28:02 No, no, I just mean that that happened. Like right there. Margaret 28:06 Oh, yeah. No, I, there's deer all around where I live. And. And, you know, all I know is that there's a dead deer intact on my property. And we're like, I don't know how this thing died. And I was like, "Hey, neighbor, do you want this?" And my neighbor was like, "That's no good." And I'm like, "How do you know?" And they just like, look at me and they're like, "Well, it's just no good." And I'm like, "Oh, you grew up knowing how to assess a deer." Because in my mind, well, it's not it's not rotting. I don't know anything about this besides that it's not rotting, you know? Burdock 28:41 Yeah, well, and I think different people also have different ideas of what is and isn't good, even people who have experience with processing roadkill, with picking up and working with roadkill. Some people think all roadkill is just not good to eat. And there is something in that because the impact does damage the tissues and sometimes even a fresh deer is just...it's just pulverized on the inside in a way that like even if it's not their stomach contents in the meat--that's something people worry about--but like the muscle tissue itself has just kind of exploded interiorly and it does...Injured tissue doesn't taste good. And so if you've assessed the deer and you've said "This deer. I'm going to continue processing this deer. I think there might be food for me inside of this deer," having a framework in your mind for what is and isn't normal tissue is important. And a huge way of how you learn that is just doing it a lot. But, I think the main way that you're going to assess a deer, and the way I assess them, is smell. And, like, if an animal smells really bad, they're rotting and you shouldn't eat them. And if but if you can, like getting them off the road a little farther, so scavengers aren't putting themselves at risk when they're going to eat the deer is nice. It's really nice to do. But yeah, another thing that I do, if I come upon a roadkill deer or other roadkill animal, is you can, super simple test, just pull on the hair of the belly. And if it comes out, just like with no effort at all, that rotting is really set in. And you don't want to use the hide. You don't want to eat the meat. Margaret 30:52 You don't want to use to hide if it's rotten? Burdock 30:54 Yeah, I mean, particularly for first because the fur is all going to slip, but at that point, like if the hair is slipping, there's enough bacteria present in even the hide that it's a health risk to move forward with processing them, especially like you know, bacteria from a rotting hide getting into any kind of open wound on the hand. I get cuts on my hands a lot because I do lots of my hands. People you can get infections and they're really bad. Margaret 31:29 What if I have Earth skilled myself like a nitrile hazmat suit? Burdock 31:35 Then you're fine. Or I mean, even, if you really wanted to tan that deer skin, you could like wear some gloves and get the hide and flush it and get it into like a alkaline solution, like a wood ash solution. And that would actually neutralize things. And from that point forward, the hide would be fine to work with. But you know, until then, you gotta you gotta put on your earth skills latex gloves. Margaret 32:01 Yeah. Well, and it's probably worth pointing out that if you are learning how to do this from a podcast, do not try the expert level thing. Burdock 32:09 No. Even putting a hide in wood ash has just taken me years to figure out, like, "How much water to mix with the wood ash," and "How much...How to assess like when do you even want to do that?" And yeah, yeah, most of the information about that out there is really bad. And the way I learned it was my friend just being like, "Here, this is how it should feel," and me being like, "Oh, okay, it should feel slippery like this. And that, that means it's the right amount of wood ash and the right amount of water" Like dammit, yeah. Margaret 32:41 Yeah, that makes sense. That's the kind of thing that you can't get from YouTube or a podcast, you know? Burdock 32:48 No, you can't. Margaret 32:51 Okay, okay, so, you've done the initial assessment. Burdock 32:54 No, you've done the actual assessment. Margaret 32:56 It's, it smells fine, the hair on the belly doesn't slip, and you've...so then you cut into it. And I'm so grossed out by it, but I'm going to do this for out listeners. I think everyone who listens knows that I'm vegan, but also have no ethical qualms with roadkill or hunting, personally. But, so I'm going to try my best. So then you like cut it up, right? And you're like, "Oh, there's meat in here?" Is that the? Burdock 33:24 Yeah, well,... Margaret 33:26 It's like a video game, right? Burdock 33:28 Usually you have to--unless they die on the road right outside of your house and even then--you need to move their body to where it's safe for you to process them. And so there have been times in Maine where all I've had to do is move the deer off the road because it's wooded and there's not going to be some person coming over and being like, "This is my land. What are you doing here with this dead deer?" But sometimes you have to put the deer in your car. That's a whole thing. But after you're at a place where it's safe to do that process...Yeah, I mean, do you want me to really get into...the details of it? Margaret 34:05 Yeah, I mean, like maybe not like totally blow-by-blow but like...Okay, like how much am I willing to disassociate for this? Maybe don't tell me how to like...You know what, let's let's cut to the...I'm sorry everyone you're gonna need a different teacher...We'll cut to once you've got the meat and the skin and they are separate things. I don't need to know about the organs as much, but maybe there's like big, like, "Don't rupture the such and such." I think there's like some organ that if you rupture, it's like all over. Everything smells awful. Burdock 34:40 It's really, it's not hard to not do that. I think people make a really big deal about the gallbladder. Yeah, I feel like if you're just starting out, like if you're just starting out, if you're picking up a deer, they should smell neutral. Like if they smell a little bit like a horse to you or like like grass, like that's what you want. Sometimes I pick up deer who smell different, but it's because I've had time to figure that out. And you want to just, for roadkill, remove all guts. Just don't deal with that. And then you're dealing with a clean body and a skin. There's lots of skinning videos on YouTube. And there's lots of different ways to do it. You know, like, you know, the different ways to... Margaret 35:29 Not allowed to how a 30 round magazine. Burdock 35:31 Yeah. [Laughing a little confused] Margaret 35:32 YouTube, you're not allowed to do a 30 round magazine, but you can watch some animal get removed from its skin. It's bad. Burdock 35:38 Totally and it's, it's not considered violent or anything. Margaret 35:42 Yeah. I mean, whatever, I'm completely fine with it. But anyway, Burdock 35:45 It's just different standards. But yeah, and I like to just quarter the animals and just what that means is having a back leg, and another back leg, and a front leg, and another front leg, and then the torso and you can break that down however much you want. But you just have these kind of large chunks. And from that point, if it's good, if it's the right weather for it, you can just hang the meat. And the meat is okay just hanging outside. And I have to do that a lot because I often am not living with refrigerators and freezers. Some people, when they get a roadkill deer, they either choose to or they need to process all the meat right then and there and like wrap it in plastic or paper and put it in the freezer and it takes like all day. Yeah, but it's...I think it's more ideal if you just get to hang up some legs and a torso. Margaret 36:48 What's the legality of taking roadkill? Burdock 36:48 It varies from state to state. Margaret 36:49 Okay, great. Burdock 36:50 So, you got to look up what your state says about that. Margaret 37:00 Don't break and then point to us about it. Burdock 37:03 Don't break the law. But also different cops have different feelings about it. Like some of them secretly think that you're really cool for doing that. And so even if they like see you doing it there, they ignore it. Margaret 37:19 Yeah, fair. Okay. Okay, so. And for anyone who's listening, the reason that there's...Like a slight lag. And so that's like, why my dumb interjections aren't always working. Otherwise, they would be incredibly funny and everyone would be laughing all the time. It'd be a laugh track. [Joking] And so, okay, so you've got your drawn and quartered animal where you've tied it between four horses and pulled it all four directions and then...Sorry, wait, that's the medieval torture. So, we've quartered the animal. Alright, so the meat. We don't talk about cooking meat and stuff. Right? That's meat. Alright. So yeah, but you want to talk hide, right? Burdock 37:59 Yeah. Hiiiiides. [Excitedly inflected upwards like singing] I love having the honor and privilege to work with animal skins. And I think that it's a huge thing to do because like with the meat you're eating, it's gonna be back in the earth pretty soon, but with the skin, you're suspending a part of the animal away from the Earth where they normally go when they die for like a long time. And that requires this huge effort. And it takes a long time to learn. And it takes a lot of infrastructure, especially for larger skins like deer skins, if you're making brain tanned leather or bark tanned leather--and we can get into all the different kinds of tanning if we want--but yeah, you need physical infrastructure. And, you can make all that stuff pretty easily. But then that also takes time. So...Uhhh...I've gotten to a place where I can improvise a lot, but there's also...it's, way easier to work with a skin when I just have like, the physical infrastructure already there. Like if I'm traveling and I show up at a friend's place and they have all that stuff ready to go, I don't have to think about it. Like a scraping beam. That's the first thing you need because when you remove the skin from the animal, they usually have some muscle tissue and maybe fat still on the skin, and you need to remove that because that's what's gonna be starting to rot the soonest. And you do that by...I mean there's other ways to do it, but I do it by draping the skin over like a log and pinning the skin between my body--which I have like an apron of some sort on--and the log and I use a metal scraping tool. It's quite dull--you don't want it to be sharp because you don't want to puncture the skin--to push the muscle and fat tissue off of the skin. You got to do that for every skin you're working on. A lot of it...From there, there's a plethora of options, but every skin needs to at least be fleshed, as they call it, just the process of removing muscle and fat tissue. Margaret 40:27 Okay, so where does the skill tree build up from there if you're playing a video game? I don't know. So, you said there's a bunch of different options. So there's like--I'm going to make them up--so there's like rawhide, and there's brain tan--there's natural tannins--and then there's vegetable...Wait no, and then there's mineral tanning, which means chemical tanning. And which means it'll never rot into the Earth and therefore is unholy by the standards that I personally hold. In a similar way as plastic, which I totally use, and so I'm not actually casting judgment here. Okay, those are the only three I know of. Burdock 41:03 I love that you said rawhide first. Margaret 41:07 Well, that seems like the most...It's the one where you do the least...I don't know. Burdock 41:11 Yes, I love rawhide. And I think that people don't give rawhide enough credit. Because you can use rawhide in a lot of ways. And people use tanned skins for a lot of things you can just use rawhide for. Like, please save yourself the effort. Like, it's a great place to start if you want to work with skins. And it's a great place to start. It's just making rawhide and using it. Margaret 41:37 Okay, but what are people using it for that...What are people using a tanned leather that they could be using rawhide for? Burdock 41:43 Like hides that you're going to sleep on, or sit on the ground with, or even put on a chair, like they don't need to be softened the way that hides that you're going to put on your body and wear as clothing needs to be. Margaret 42:02 So it's about softening them not about preserving them? Burdock 42:06 Well, it's also about preservation because...I'll use the example of using a hide to sit on the ground. I prefer rawhide for sitting on the ground,because it takes rawhide a lot longer to absorb moisture from the grounds. At least in the places where I live, the ground has moisture in it. And if you're putting pressure on a hide you're sitting on it's going to be sucking up that moisture. And a tanned hide, like a brain can hide especially, it is more like a towel. It will it will take in moisture faster and more easily. Even on a really humid day, if it's like foggy or it's really humid, a brain tanned buckskin, for example, is just going to pull moisture in from the air and just become wet. Margaret 43:04 This sounds awful. You're describing a nightmare. You are trapped in another creature's moist skin. Burdock 43:09 And that's and that's why like I lament, for a lot of reasons, but with you know, with the genocide of so many people, you lose these, like finer details. Like if people who lived in the territory of the Penobscot, for example, wore buckskins, how did they deal with it when they absorbed moisture from the air? Like what? Yeah, did they? How did they prevent that from happening? Or like, how did they deal with that? Or did they just...was it not a big deal and they dealt with it? I don't know. And it's...it's hard. It's hard to even like mentally process how much of that finer detail, more land specifics information, is if not lost, unmoored and difficult to to find. Yeah. Margaret 44:24 Okay, so the three methods...Am I wrong that it's the three methods? There's rawhide, vegetable tanning, which is brain and bark, any natural tannin--I'm literally making this up--and mineral tanning which is chemical stuff. Burdock 44:41 Yeah, so your your close. Margaret 44:44 Okay. Burdock 44:45 Rawhide. And then I categorize brain tanning and vegetable tanning differently, but I consider those both natural tanning methods. And a lot of people just say naturally tanned, though, and then they don't go into details. And when they can't tell you more information it's usually chemically tanned anyways. Margaret 45:07 Oh, I thought you could tell by like cutting the leather. I was like in the leather working for this brief moment. Like, I wasn't very good at it. I thought you could like tell by like cutting the leather and it was like darker if it was...I'm expecting I'm wrong. I thought was like darker if had been mineral tanned inside. Burdock 45:25 Honestly, I think it's hard for me to tell even now as a tanner, sometimes, like, what, in what manner hide was tanned. It's usually pretty obvious, but sometimes it's a little unclear. Yeah, those are kind of the two natural tannings and then there's alum tanning, which I know nothing about it, but it does seem kind of in between natural and mineral tanning. Or maybe it's...You know, some people would say, "That's a natural method." And some people will say, "That's not natural." But I don't know anything about it so I'm not gonna talk about it. And then yeah, there's all the more industrial methods of tanning where they're constantly using new chemicals to do it because either the old ones got outlawed or they can't find those chemicals anymore. Or, you know, they have to like put everything...they have to put the whole tanning station on a boat and put that boat into waters where there aren't regulations about these things so that they can dump the caustic stuff that they're using, just you know, into the ocean, like it's that...It's that level. So yeah, commercial tanning is is bad, y'all. Margaret 46:40 Well, no. Okay, so this makes me feel better about...the weakest part--I don't really proselytize veganism, people will do whatever they want--but the weakest part of veganism in general is when people are like "Use vegan leather instead," because what they mean is use plastic instead. Right? Yeah. And like using plastic instead of leather is like not actually doing anyone except possibly the factory farmed animal any favors, right? But if the way that commercial leather is treated is also fucking evil then it like moves a point back over. Anyway.... Burdock 47:17 Over to the vegan side. Margaret 47:20 Yeah, I totally... Burdock 47:24 I mean, watch out. Someday they're gonna figure out cactus leather, or mushroom leather, or kombucha scobi leather. Margaret 47:31 They're working on mushroom leather. Burdock 47:35 I don't think that any of those leathers are ever going to be able to do animal-based leather can do. Margaret 47:48 I have no counter argument. Okay, so I'm guessing that you're a proponent of vegetable tanned leather, or naturally tanned leather and not chemically tanned leather. Is that an accurate assessment? Burdock 48:03 Yeah, yeah. But there are...you can get vegetable tanned leather commercially, too. And it's different from the home tanned stuff. It is often still done in pretty shitty and unsustainable ways. But at least there's less like chemicals involved. Some of the barks that are used in the commercial vegetable tanning are like from the Amazon rainforest and they're byproducts or products of like deforestation that shouldn't be happening. So there's that too. I like the home tanned stuff because you know what's going into it? You don't have to ask those questions. "Where did this come from?" "Oh, I found this deer on the road." "Where did the bark come from?" "I found the bark that had just fallen up the street,that just fallen. I took the bark. I boiled the bark, I put the hide in the bark. I waited a long time. I kept changing the water and then I took the hide out and I put oil in it and I softened it while it was drying and now, now it's my shoes." Margaret 49:15 I really liked the speed run of tanning and you just did. Burdock 49:20 Well that but that's just vegetable tanning. Brain tanning is a little different. Margaret 49:24 Okay, so is brain tanning and vegetable tanning both using something called tannin, which is some kind of chemical thingy that naturally occurs in a bunch of different stuff including acorns and some bark and apparently brains to do stuff to the leather? Is that the big idea? Burdock 49:48 Vaguely Yes. So brain tanning involves no tannins. At that point...And pretty much at any point tanning is like a colloquialism. It's a word that we say that doesn't necessarily have an association with tannins anymore. And what people mean when they say tanning is they just mean that the hide has been softened and preserved. Margaret 50:11 Okay. Burdock 50:12 But the only method in which that's happening with tannins is the vegetable tanning method. And vegetable just means plant matter in that context. So it can be leaves, it can be bark. I don't want to get into the acorns thing because I've never successfully like boiled acorns or acorn shells and gotten tannins that I'm happy with. I think it's a myth. But maybe other people have other experiences with that. And if you have, tell me how you do it. Margaret 50:48 Okay, but why would someone pick brain tanning? Because in my mind, I'd be like, "Oh, well, the thing you got comes with the thing you need," like so it seems like brains are gross as shit but like a natural--I mean you're already doing something gross as shit--so whatever. It seems like a natural thing. Like why? Why do you fuck around with leaves and bark when the brains right there? Or like what are the...how do you decide how you're going to tan your shoes? Burdock 51:18 Yeah, different leathers for different purposes. And they behave differently as well. Brain tanning...And it really shouldn't be gross. Like, if there's bad smells going on, something's wrong and you need to figure that out. It shouldn't. It shouldn't smell bad even though the concept of like, "I'm touching a skin. I'm touching a brain," might be...uncomfortable Margaret 51:44 Yeah, yeah. It's not gross because of the smell. It's gross because you're inside something. It's gross. Yeah, but this is my own...I don't like the inside of my own body. Like this is fine. Burdock 51:56 Yeah, yeah, outside it's fine. Margaret 51:59 Yeah, well like half the reason I'm vegans is I'm like, "Well, that's just gross so I just don't fuck with it." I don't know. Anyway, Burdock 52:07 Um, yeah. So I like brain tanned leather for clothing that's going to be against my skin, for example. Margaret 52:19 Makes you smart. Burdock 52:21 Yeah. It's always going to be softer and more supple in general, more flexible. But, it absorbs water, it absorbs moisture the most quickly from out of all of the leathers. So, it's not great for for instance, shoes in a climate where the ground is wet a lot. Right. Even though buckskin moccasins are incredible footwear, it's really nice to be able to feel the Earth while your feet are protected. But, if they got wet, it feels really gross. And it just like it deteriorates quickly. Like if you wear your buckskin moccasins and they get wet and you continue wearing them, they are going to get holes and wear out very soon. You know? Vegetable tanned leather doesn't absorb moisture as quickly. And it's it's generally a little tougher. And I think rawhide doesn't absorb moisture...It takes the longest to absorb moisture. It's the toughest. Okay, yeah, yeah. And what brains do to the hide is it's just it's just a softening agent. It does the same thing. Oil for vegetable tanned leather is also just a softening agent. The preservative agent and brain tanning is smoke. It's the woods smoke. After the softening process, you can stitch the whole hide up like a balloon and fill it with wood smoke by making a super smoky fire and like funneling all the smoke into it. I'm oversimplifying a lot. And you turn it inside out and smoke the other side. And it's the aldehydes in the smoke that are acting as the preserving agent. Margaret 54:20 Okay, that...Yeah, that makes sense. You can smoke meat. So yeah, to preserve it. Okay, okay, I know about meat. [Said skeptically. Then laughs] Burdock 54:35 Yeah, whereas with vegetable tanning, the preservatives, the actual tannins that are in the plants, you're boiling or cold leaching them so that they come into the water and then from the water they go into the hide and they bind with the fibers of the hide. But tannins, the way that you know something is tannin right, is like tasting it. You put in your mouth and it's like, it feels horrible. It has this drying quality. It's more astringent than bitter. It's more about the astringent action. And the astringency, it's like...it's like this drying, puckering thing. And so when you put a hide and tannins, it's stripping it of moisture, it's very drying. And it actually causes the whole hide to kind of pucker up a little bit so it gets a little smaller and it gets thicker. Margaret 55:33 Everyone who's listening, I'm very sad that you didn't get to see Burdock enact what happens to the hide. You're just gonna have to imagine at home. Burdock 55:44 The little dance. Margaret 55:48 Anyway, sorry. Burdock 55:49 I have to get my brain back into science mode. So yeah, once you've...once all the tannins have bound all the fibers in the hide, and it can't absorb any more tannins, you need to replace all of the like glubons and stuff that have been stripped out with oil. If you don't oil a vegetable tanned hide...like if you don't oil a hide that's full of tannins, it's really brittle because of the drying astringent quality of tannins. Margaret 56:24 Are you getting that oil from animal fats? Because, I'm under the impression that oil is like one of the harder things to source in the wild. Burdock 56:31 It can be. It can be any kind of fat. It could even be, yeah, egg yolks or brains. It can be...but it can be like plant fats, you know, olive oil. Some people use olive oil. Some people use Neatsfoot oil, it's like this really specific thing. I still don't really fully understand what it is. You can use coconut oil. You could use...but I use bear fat. That's really abundant in the places I've been living. And a lot of it is discarded every year during bear hunting season. And I try to...I keep in connection with the local game processor. So he gives me the fat and I render the fat and I gift a lot of that fat to the Passamaquoddy and Penobscot and pretty much any local indigenous folks who want it. And then the stuff that's like not quality enough to gift. I keep for myself and use for hide and other stuff. And because that's like the abundant fat of the landscape I've been living on. Margaret 57:43 Yeah, as compared to like something like olive oil, which is basically people being like, here's the thing that I think is cool that applies to a very different climate than... Burdock 57:52 I mean if you dumpster dived that olive oil, you know, good on you. Margaret 57:58 Okay, well, we're almost out of time. But actually, one of the things I find so interesting about this is that like, rather than replicating, like just what was done before civilization or whatever...What was done before civilization was using available resources. And so we have such different available resources now. And so that's why I love the inclusion of something like dumpster diving, or even like roadkill, right? Roadkill is not a very natural process. And again, it's complicated, "natural," but whenever I'm using it. Yeah, you know, like things getting hit by the fact that I drive a giant fucking truck, like, I hate that but whatever. And, and so that's actually one of things that's really interesting to me. I really liked this thing that you're talking about, like, "Okay, we find what is discarded and work with it." That's like the part that really appeals to me the most, besides a preparedness point of view, the idea of working with refuse in a society that throws too much away, has always appealed to me. I no longer subsist off of dumpster diving, but I did for a very long time. And I really liked the idea of like dumpster diving the roads, you know? It's interesting to me. Burdock 59:11 That's some major raccoon energy right there. Margaret 59:14 Yeah, totally. Um, okay, well, what is the...Okay do you have any like final thoughts either about Earth skills, or about tannins, or why tannins are overrated, or anything like that? Burdock 59:31 I love tannins and I love vegetable tanning, but it is definitely the highest effort kind of tanning because you need so much plant matter. So so so so so much. And it takes a lot of physical labor to process all of that. So if you can use rawhide, use rawhide, and if you can't use rawhide, use buckskin, and if you can't...or brain tan, and if you can't use brain tan leather, then vegetable tan leather is is a good option. That's kind of how I tried to approach it. And my other note is just that it takes way, way, way, way, way longer than you think it's gonna take. And that's a good thing. Learning any of these skills and doing any of these things. Margaret 1:00:25 Because one of the things that...I was gonna leave the last word and then I keep thinking about things. I'm sorry. One of things I was thinking about I remember, because there's this whole argument about like, did vikings wear leather. If you want to like fall down a weird rabbit hole, look at the fucking Norweeboos and arguing about that. Burdock 1:00:42 [Squealing] The Viking discourse is so weird. Margaret 1:00:47 Yeah. And when I try and...I really like writing Dark Age fantasy, right? I know [incoherent] Dark Ages, but I don't like high medieval, I like low medieval. So I like writing early Middle Ages fantasy as...That is my sweet spot, right, Because they have the cooler helmets and swords barely exists. Anyway, whatever. Yeah. And arguments about leather and like leather clothing. Right? And. And there's not a lot of historical record of people wearing leather clothing in Norweeboo land. What is that called? Norway, Sweden? And some of my listeners are there. I'm sorry. I'm a terrible person. So and, and so there's all these arguments about it. But then I learned how much work was involved in making a yard of linen. Like to sew into clothes. And you're talking about--I'm gonna get this number wrong because it's been a while since I looked this up--it was like a week's worth of work for someone to make a square yard of linen fabric. And so when I look at that, I'm like, "Yeah, of course they fucking wore leather. What the fuck? Why wouldn't you?" But and then, I mean, you've gone over some reasons why you might not want it for some of your clothing. But, um, yeah. But that is an interesting thing that you're bringing up about it takes way longer than you think. That was my train of thought. Sorry. Burdock 1:02:13 Yeah, I mean, what if I told you that it also takes a week to manufacture a square foot of leather. I mean, that's, that's not necessarily true. For vegetable tanned leather, though, it takes longer than that. And that's why I'm saying that's a way bigger investment. And that's something you don't want to make every single thing out of. But, for like brain tanned leather, yeah. I guess in a week, you could produce six square feet. I mean, depending on who you are. Some people are fast, some people are slow. And if you've been doing it for a longer time, you can do it faster. And the weather conditions. And what the hide is doing. There's so many factors. Margaret 1:02:53 Fine. Back to linen I go. I mean, that's more what I like wearing anyway. But anyway, okay, okay. Well, if people want to...I don't even know whether, I can't remember whether you do like...Should people try to find you on the internet? Would you prefer to not be found? What...Do you have anything that you want to plug here at the end of all things? Burdock 1:03:14 [In a low and ornate voice] I don't want anybody to find me? I just live secluded in the forest. [Switches to normal] No, I have an Instagram. My handle @scragetywocket and it's all one word. Great. But if you can't find me, that means I've changed my instagram handle to @huge_racc. [said like "Huge Rack"] And that's RACC. I did a poll and everybody thinks I should change it to that. So I'm considering it. Which is referencing raccoons by the way. Margaret 1:03:51 Yeah, of course. Totally. Burdock 1:03:58 Okay, yeah. You can cut that out if you want. Margaret 1:04:05 No, no, it's staying in. Alright. Well, thank you so much for coming on. And explaining all of these things that I'm both incredibly interested in and incredibly terrified of learning. So thank you. Burdock 1:04:19 Thank you. It's been great to chat about all this stuff. Thanks for being open to it. Margaret 1:04:23 Thank you so much for listening. If you enjoy this episode, then you should go live like a raccoon. That was the one takeaway that you should have had from this. Or, you should tell people about this episode and other episodes of Live Like the World is Dying. And you can also support us, you can support us by telling people about it, which is already covered, and you can support us on Patreon. Our Patreon is patreon.com/liveliketheworldisdying. And no, that's not true. Our Patreon is patreon.com/strangersinatangledwilderness because I have to give everything long, complicated names. And Strangers in a Tangled Wilderness is an anarchist publishing collective that publishes a ton of stuff, including this podcast and including some other podcasts that you might like. If you back us, we will send you a zine in the mail. If you back us enough. I'll read your name out right now. I want to thank Princess Miranda, BenBen, Anonymous--hell yeah, Anonymous--Funder. Also a good choice. Jans, Oxalis, Janice & O'dell, Paige, Aly, paparouna, Milica, Boise Mutual Aid, theo, Hunter, Shawn, S.J., Paige, Mikki, Nicole, David, Dana, Chelsea, Cat J., Staro, Jenipher, Eleanor, Kirk, Sam, Chris, Michaiah, and of course, Hoss the Dog. And that's pretty much it. Everyone should take care as best as they can and don't fall into an apocalyptic cult. Even though you listen to an apocalyptic podcast I run. Find out more at https://live-like-the-world-is-dying.pinecast.co

"Puddles and the Bubble Trouble": Puddles stumbles upon a magical bubble wand that creates gigantic bubbles. Excitedly, Puddles jumps into one of the bubbles, only to find himself floating high above the treetops. With the help of his friends, Puddles tries to find a way back down, encountering funny mishaps along the way.

Deconstruction is a popular topic and Chris wants to get to the bottom of why Duncan doesn't like it. Hopefully there's a place in the middle for Jesus to shine through.

Lapsed catholic woman finds need to confess.By MarthaMcKinley - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.I'm driving back to see my priest, from the college parish.  Yeah, this catholic girl needs deliverance from some major guilt. No, let's see; how many years has it been? It hit me yesterday, as Robbie & I were driving home. Oh, Gawd! Oh Gawd!Why shouldn't I worry? This probably changes things. No. It definitely changes things! Every thing. I had sex with Bart, a married man. Get it, you rash brain. I'm a married woman who just had sex with another woman's husband. And not simply another woman, but one of my friends. What was I thinking? Obviously, I wasn't.There we were. Robbie was driving. I glanced over at Robbie, driving us home, tapping on the steering wheel and belting out the words to Billie Joel's Only the Good Die Young coming over the radio. “You Catholic girls start much too late.” Did Billy Joel know, too?The irony of it all. I was one of them: a graduate eight years ago of St. Margaret's Academy, an all girls' high school run by the Sisters of Notre Dame. In my four years there, I had had negligible experience with boys-just a handful of dances in the gym at the neighboring Catholic boys' school. I never had a boyfriend. I was never even confident enough in myself to flirt, for I never found the girl looking back at me in the mirror to be anything but plain.In college, no one had even asked me out until my junior year when Robbie did. I was so flummoxed, so flattered, so sure it must be a charity act that I spent the next two years at Macalester in perpetual gratitude, satisfying his every need. And right after graduation, with a BFA in painting, Miss flat chested and shy, but virgin no more Mary Johnson married Mister handsome, self-assured, going places Robbie Dwyer.“I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints…” he sang, glancing over at me, suggestively.Did he do it, too? Did he have sex with Robyn in the hot tub after Bart and I got out? It was entirely possible. In the four years since we were married, he had confessed to at least a half dozen women who turned him on. The Swedish lab tech at work with the impossibly long lashes. The buxom Australian hostess at the Sunshine Factory, our friday night watering hole. The neighbor from Kenya with the wide hips and muscular buttocks bulging out her short shorts as she dragged the sprinkler across the lawn. The Vietnamese manicurist, where I got my nails done, with the alluring-demurring smile on her face. My God, he had a fantasy girl from almost every continent. At least he was ecumenical.But had he ever acted on any of these urges…other than acting them out in our bedroom? For whatever reason, his fantasies turned me on. They were so absurd, and far from making me suspicious, when he brought them up in bed at night, I wanted to play along. I became the big-bosomed Aussie who smothered him with her tits, or the wide assed African who yanked on his hose. We would start assuming these roles in all seriousness, but soon be laughing so hard that Robbie would get massive, I would become sopping wet, and we'd fuck fast and furious until we came in great gasps. Then we would kiss and hug, saying all those wonderful words of love to each other, before falling asleep entwined.You know, it's amazing when you find yourself. All my scholarly life I had struggled with reading, writing essays, taking multiple-choice tests. But one thing I loved to do-and was good at-was rendering landscapes in pastel: layering wheat fields with raw sienna, coating barns and silos in brilliant cad red and alizarin crimson, foliating giant cottonwoods with varying shades of sap green, and stretching cobalt shadows across lawns and patios, bending them up walls of grand white farmhouses.I guess, in retrospect, it was how I sublimated my sexuality as a teenager. Years later, post art school-and after having given up on Catholicism-I discovered the co-existence of the creative impulse and drive for sexual gratification. It was then that my artistic successes began. People seemed to respond passionately to my new work. Collectors bought four, five, or six of my pieces. Each new series-the Dakotas, the Mississippi-won me acclaim at venues in Minneapolis, Santa Fe, Denver, and Chicago. I almost couldn't make enough for all the enthusiastic gallery owners. The result was gaining a measure of confidence, not only in art, but in love, which I had formerly never known, and which seemed so natural for others, like Robbie, Bart, and Robyn.Oh my God, I forgot about Robyn, the red-haired nurse-midwife whose house we were just leaving. Robbie fantasized the most about that little spitfire-at least, she's the one who seemed to augment his cock the greatest. I remember his last “Robyn dream,” a mere week ago: he and she were wrestling at the pond's edge after they emerged from a skinny dip on a sultry afternoon. They had started slinging playful insults at one another, until one literally slung a handful of mud, at which point the real fun began. Soon they were coated with a burnt sienna glaze and needing to go back into the water to wash each other off.It made sense, that fanciful notion of his. Water was their thing. Robyn got covered in amniotic fluid when her patient's “water” broke, and Robbie worked as a field biologist with lake flora and fauna. Two science types, always with liquid things to talk about. We had left them in their element, soaking in the hot tub, when Bart and I got out to look at one of his new pastel paintings-our element.Robbie drummed on the steering wheel. “You know that only the good die young…Tell you baby…Only the good die young…”I was feeling really clammy now. What if he and Robyn did fuck in the hot tub? Would that be better-for me? After all, if he did it, why couldn't I? Or… did it spell the end of our marriage? Were we going to become one of those pairs of swinging couples whose relationship divided along fault lines? Little things that once seemed endearing qualities-my need to have everything in its place at home-would become an annoyance to him and an excuse for fleeing to Robyn. Or his insistence in correcting my retelling of a mutual experience-that I formerly had allowed with amusement-would become the hurt driving me to Bart and the consolation of his touch.Jesus, what have I done? What have we done? We? Maybe we didn't do anything. Maybe only I did? And Robbie's trust in me will be shattered forever.I reached over to touch his head, to pull my fingers through his dark, dark umber hair, with waves as luscious as my grassy prairies at sunset. He looked over and smiled, his gaze penetrating my eyes briefly before it returned to the road. “I love when you do that, Georgia,” he teased, using the name of the artist, Georgia O'Keeffe, whom I had been the most influenced by in college.He hadn't fucked Robyn after all. Great. Now I'm the fucker.“I love doing that,” I replied. “You know how much I crave your textures!”Did I sound like the same me? Could he tell anything from the dampness of my fingers?“We'll be home in ten minutes,” he proclaimed. "Can't wait to be in bed with you.“Suddenly feeling queasy, I replied, “Are you wide awake? I'm so tired, I think I'm going to close my eyes for a bit.”“I'm fine. Another good song!“ And he was off, singing in perfect pitch, "But you gotta keep your head up, oh-oh, and you can let your hair down, eh-eh…”Maybe he's too exuberant? I bet he did do it?Do it.Do it.Did I really do it?Did we? Bart and I? Do it?Oh, Father Duffy, it's times like these when I miss those confession sessions……Bart and I had dried off in front of his fireplace. The bromine from the hot tub was so strong we had taken turns rinsing off in the shower. With towels wrapped around us, we ascended the stairs to his studio and his magnificent nudes. If I relished the feel of textures through my fingers, my eyes delighted in the virtual touch of the skin tones in his paintings: strokes of raw sienna melding into caput mortuum, Indian red into purple violet and Thalo blue. His pastels had been blended with infinite patience, layer upon layer of pigment to create arm, chest, torso, groin, giving the effect of a radiance emanating from within.For someone not in possession of the endowment, he painted the most sensuous breasts-with thick areolas and erect nipples-seemingly emerging from the paper, begging to be sucked.I touched his arm to point out, on a nearby easel, the pair of lovers he was finishing, a man standing behind a woman, their hands holding five passion fruits against her chest. Excitedly, I inquired as to how he got her skin to glow with such warmth of golden ochre and crimson. He nestled my elbow in his palm as he eased me toward the painting and explained his artistic process.It was fun having another artist to talk with, to puzzle out problems of color and value, to compare favorite painters and art philosophies. In college, I had been so head over heals involved with Robbie, that I did my course work, rushed back to the dorm to be with him, and didn't give myself the time to make friends, let alone hang out with established teacher-artists in the art department. My BFA degree had landed me a graphic arts job with Minnesota Life, a glossy recreation magazine, and I spent over a year doing computer artwork, but again, no real artist contacts-and no art opportunities. When my school loans were nearly repaid, and Robbie was making enough for both of us to live on, I went back to painting with pastels. Within two years, I was showing in the Twin Cities; then, six months later, in three other major metropolitan areas. That experience brought me into contact with other artisans, most of them women, all of us doing different subjects. We exhibited together on occasion, got together for group-show receptions, but I never really developed an artistic kinship with any painter-until I met Bart.He leaned into me as we conversed, and I maintained our inertia by pressing back. He took my left hand in his, and slipped his right arm around my back, supporting me as we talked about his lovers' faces; the aura of contemplation; the mysteries of connection, communion, and commitment.I told him how much I liked the piece, and he hugged me with appreciation. And that's when we should have stopped. I could have inquired about the adjacent painting, the woman with the large guava facing the viewer and the man turning away with his smaller one. But I didn't. His hug felt so good. As did the wine, our soak in the hot tub, my newly-found confidence.We rotated toward each other. He brought his lips to mine, and, rather than turn to accept his kiss on my cheek, I met him full on with my own. As our embrace progressed, intoxicatingly, I encircled his lanky waist and felt our towels drop away. With his manliness expanding against my belly and his hand raising tingles up my spine, I devoured his lower lip, squeaking a little in excitement when I felt his tongue enter my mouth.With both hands he lifted up my tiny breasts, his fingers running over my nipples, as ripe as his painted ones, then pulled each with gentle traction, making them ache all the more. I moved off his mouth, and began kissing his chest, lightly brushing the russet hairs with my lips in an ever-expanding oval. Initially passing over his nipples, I returned to suck each to hardness and heard him groan as I bit down on them tenderly.His finger pads moved down my spine to buttocks, backs of thigh, up to hipbones, and, twisting his hands around, his finger nails grazed across to my pussy tuft and up my abdomen to my back again, in a repeating hypnotic loop of arousal. When my tongue repaid his kindness, creating a saliva trail down his midline, my cheek butted into his erection. I turned deftly toward the large head, now deeply violet and glowing as hot as his figures' skin tones.Clumsily, we maneuvered our entangled selves to his model stand, and found our way to sitting upon the shag carpet remnant atop the platform, my mouth locked around him, my juices oozing into the rug. His hand found my slot, and as I drew my teeth up and over his rim, I felt his fingers close around my clit, pinching it rhythmically to our breathing. My shrieks of pleasure were stifled by taking more of his cock deeper in my throat, and, as I rocked onto his hand, he began thrusting into my mouth.“I'm gonna come,” he whispered, urgently.Having climaxed once already, and about to scream again, I was fully prepared to grant him his pleasure. Within seconds a hot bolus shot into my mouth, and this time I gurgled with delight as his flood of warmth quieted my cries.One hand circled my head, his fingers pushing through my perspiring hair. The other, perfumed by my cunt-flower, was rubbed against cheek, neck, and shoulder, all the while he praised my beauty in muffled tones. I regained my resting breathing tempo, but all I could mumble was, “Wonderful, wonderful,” as his cock slowly deflated in my mouth.“You guys up there?” Robbie had hollered from the bottom of the stairs.“Just gazing at some nudes,” Bart had called back, so nonchalantly, I thought that perhaps I had been dreaming all the while. But of course I wasn't.Bart and I had hurriedly wrapped our towels around us. He went ahead of me down the stairs, as I ducked into their bathroom to do a bidet-cleansing of my mouth, then joined everyone below to get dressed and prepare for our departure.“We're home,” announced Robbie. “Let's get right to bed. I love it when you're brominated.”I awoke from one nightmare to go back into what I feared was another. What Robbie pronounced was true. Being brominated meant that by soaking in the hot tub, I was disinfected everywhere, and his tongue could explore my private place with relatively impunity. Any other time, his suggestion would have made me forgo my nightly mouth care, but this evening, I delayed our entry into bed by flossing and brushing-with lots of toothpaste. That would cover up any telltale tastes, but I didn't know if the delay would allow my brain to become re-engaged in love making.Robbie and I have been very honest with each other. Well, I felt I have been completely honest, and I trusted full revelations would have been forthcoming from him. So as we pulled the sheets over our nakednesses, I wondered if I should bare all?“Do I tell him,” I asked myself? Did I want him to tell me-if there was anything to tell?What I knew more than anything was that I needed to have Robbie inside me right now. I had made a terrible mistake, but I needed to be loved by him for who I was-his imperfect wife. The one he comes home to. The one he treasures. The one to him, for all her faults, is the most important woman in the whole world. That's the way I felt about him, after all.My decision was made by default. He began to kiss me on my mouth, his hands roaming over my breasts, his warmth surrounding me, making me forget all about the tryst of two hours prior. I felt wholly consumed by this man, desired in a way I hadn't felt before. He was possessed it seemed, and he ravaged me with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, gnawing on my neck muscles, biting my nipples, tonguing deeply into my belly button as his fingers poked into my buttocks, scraped down my outer thighs and stroked back up the fronts.His rigidity pressed against me, but I wasn't about to let this end too quickly. I kissed him back. Roughly. Biting his lip, his chin, then along jaw bone to ear lobe.He writhed with the discomfort, but moaned in pleasure, calling out, “Mary Johnson, I love you, love you.”In a trice he was upon me, kissing me with abandon. I carved my nails down his backside, and his tempo accelerated.“Fuck me, Robbie! Fuck me hard!!” I urged.As I gripped his flanks, he pounded me, rocking our bed, the headboard cracking like a sledgehammer against the wall. In a voice an octave higher, I began to whine, inhaling sharply to fill my chest, about to explode into an earsplitting orgasm, when Robbie stopped. Pulled out. Rolled me over.“What the…?”“I need you completely tonight, M.J. All of you.”And he separated my ass cheeks and began nibbling that tender flesh around my anus, which drove me into the pre-ecstasy shudders. I knew what was coming next: his tongue would dive deeply into me, and I would light up our room with carmine, magenta, and cerulean lightning bolts, before flooding the bedsheets with a cloudburst from my womb.And he did. And so did I. I screamed and screamed. When I was sated and the bed soaked, he turned me over and had his way with me, and I came for a fifth or sixth time-but who's counting when your man is shouting into your ear and filling your vaginal cup with the most exquisite of liqueurs.As we lay aside each other in the warm puddle of us, both sweating from the physical effort, he professed just how much he cared for me. I knew exactly what he meant: I couldn't imagine loving another being more.Well, yes I could.With his hand moving over my hair, and warm exhalations against my cheek, he offered, “M.J., I got something to tell you.”Sighing in relief, I answered, “And I got something to tell you, too.”Which leads me to say; Bless me father; for I have sinned.By MarthaMcKinley for Literotica

Lapsed catholic woman finds need to confess.By MarthaMcKinley - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.I'm driving back to see my priest, from the college parish.  Yeah, this catholic girl needs deliverance from some major guilt. No, let's see; how many years has it been? It hit me yesterday, as Robbie & I were driving home. Oh, Gawd! Oh Gawd!Why shouldn't I worry? This probably changes things. No. It definitely changes things! Every thing. I had sex with Bart, a married man. Get it, you rash brain. I'm a married woman who just had sex with another woman's husband. And not simply another woman, but one of my friends. What was I thinking? Obviously, I wasn't.There we were. Robbie was driving. I glanced over at Robbie, driving us home, tapping on the steering wheel and belting out the words to Billie Joel's Only the Good Die Young coming over the radio. “You Catholic girls start much too late.” Did Billy Joel know, too?The irony of it all. I was one of them: a graduate eight years ago of St. Margaret's Academy, an all girls' high school run by the Sisters of Notre Dame. In my four years there, I had had negligible experience with boys-just a handful of dances in the gym at the neighboring Catholic boys' school. I never had a boyfriend. I was never even confident enough in myself to flirt, for I never found the girl looking back at me in the mirror to be anything but plain.In college, no one had even asked me out until my junior year when Robbie did. I was so flummoxed, so flattered, so sure it must be a charity act that I spent the next two years at Macalester in perpetual gratitude, satisfying his every need. And right after graduation, with a BFA in painting, Miss flat chested and shy, but virgin no more Mary Johnson married Mister handsome, self-assured, going places Robbie Dwyer.“I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints…” he sang, glancing over at me, suggestively.Did he do it, too? Did he have sex with Robyn in the hot tub after Bart and I got out? It was entirely possible. In the four years since we were married, he had confessed to at least a half dozen women who turned him on. The Swedish lab tech at work with the impossibly long lashes. The buxom Australian hostess at the Sunshine Factory, our friday night watering hole. The neighbor from Kenya with the wide hips and muscular buttocks bulging out her short shorts as she dragged the sprinkler across the lawn. The Vietnamese manicurist, where I got my nails done, with the alluring-demurring smile on her face. My God, he had a fantasy girl from almost every continent. At least he was ecumenical.But had he ever acted on any of these urges…other than acting them out in our bedroom? For whatever reason, his fantasies turned me on. They were so absurd, and far from making me suspicious, when he brought them up in bed at night, I wanted to play along. I became the big-bosomed Aussie who smothered him with her tits, or the wide assed African who yanked on his hose. We would start assuming these roles in all seriousness, but soon be laughing so hard that Robbie would get massive, I would become sopping wet, and we'd fuck fast and furious until we came in great gasps. Then we would kiss and hug, saying all those wonderful words of love to each other, before falling asleep entwined.You know, it's amazing when you find yourself. All my scholarly life I had struggled with reading, writing essays, taking multiple-choice tests. But one thing I loved to do-and was good at-was rendering landscapes in pastel: layering wheat fields with raw sienna, coating barns and silos in brilliant cad red and alizarin crimson, foliating giant cottonwoods with varying shades of sap green, and stretching cobalt shadows across lawns and patios, bending them up walls of grand white farmhouses.I guess, in retrospect, it was how I sublimated my sexuality as a teenager. Years later, post art school-and after having given up on Catholicism-I discovered the co-existence of the creative impulse and drive for sexual gratification. It was then that my artistic successes began. People seemed to respond passionately to my new work. Collectors bought four, five, or six of my pieces. Each new series-the Dakotas, the Mississippi-won me acclaim at venues in Minneapolis, Santa Fe, Denver, and Chicago. I almost couldn't make enough for all the enthusiastic gallery owners. The result was gaining a measure of confidence, not only in art, but in love, which I had formerly never known, and which seemed so natural for others, like Robbie, Bart, and Robyn.Oh my God, I forgot about Robyn, the red-haired nurse-midwife whose house we were just leaving. Robbie fantasized the most about that little spitfire-at least, she's the one who seemed to augment his cock the greatest. I remember his last “Robyn dream,” a mere week ago: he and she were wrestling at the pond's edge after they emerged from a skinny dip on a sultry afternoon. They had started slinging playful insults at one another, until one literally slung a handful of mud, at which point the real fun began. Soon they were coated with a burnt sienna glaze and needing to go back into the water to wash each other off.It made sense, that fanciful notion of his. Water was their thing. Robyn got covered in amniotic fluid when her patient's “water” broke, and Robbie worked as a field biologist with lake flora and fauna. Two science types, always with liquid things to talk about. We had left them in their element, soaking in the hot tub, when Bart and I got out to look at one of his new pastel paintings-our element.Robbie drummed on the steering wheel. “You know that only the good die young…Tell you baby…Only the good die young…”I was feeling really clammy now. What if he and Robyn did fuck in the hot tub? Would that be better-for me? After all, if he did it, why couldn't I? Or… did it spell the end of our marriage? Were we going to become one of those pairs of swinging couples whose relationship divided along fault lines? Little things that once seemed endearing qualities-my need to have everything in its place at home-would become an annoyance to him and an excuse for fleeing to Robyn. Or his insistence in correcting my retelling of a mutual experience-that I formerly had allowed with amusement-would become the hurt driving me to Bart and the consolation of his touch.Jesus, what have I done? What have we done? We? Maybe we didn't do anything. Maybe only I did? And Robbie's trust in me will be shattered forever.I reached over to touch his head, to pull my fingers through his dark, dark umber hair, with waves as luscious as my grassy prairies at sunset. He looked over and smiled, his gaze penetrating my eyes briefly before it returned to the road. “I love when you do that, Georgia,” he teased, using the name of the artist, Georgia O'Keeffe, whom I had been the most influenced by in college.He hadn't fucked Robyn after all. Great. Now I'm the fucker.“I love doing that,” I replied. “You know how much I crave your textures!”Did I sound like the same me? Could he tell anything from the dampness of my fingers?“We'll be home in ten minutes,” he proclaimed. "Can't wait to be in bed with you.“Suddenly feeling queasy, I replied, “Are you wide awake? I'm so tired, I think I'm going to close my eyes for a bit.”“I'm fine. Another good song!“ And he was off, singing in perfect pitch, "But you gotta keep your head up, oh-oh, and you can let your hair down, eh-eh…”Maybe he's too exuberant? I bet he did do it?Do it.Do it.Did I really do it?Did we? Bart and I? Do it?Oh, Father Duffy, it's times like these when I miss those confession sessions……Bart and I had dried off in front of his fireplace. The bromine from the hot tub was so strong we had taken turns rinsing off in the shower. With towels wrapped around us, we ascended the stairs to his studio and his magnificent nudes. If I relished the feel of textures through my fingers, my eyes delighted in the virtual touch of the skin tones in his paintings: strokes of raw sienna melding into caput mortuum, Indian red into purple violet and Thalo blue. His pastels had been blended with infinite patience, layer upon layer of pigment to create arm, chest, torso, groin, giving the effect of a radiance emanating from within.For someone not in possession of the endowment, he painted the most sensuous breasts-with thick areolas and erect nipples-seemingly emerging from the paper, begging to be sucked.I touched his arm to point out, on a nearby easel, the pair of lovers he was finishing, a man standing behind a woman, their hands holding five passion fruits against her chest. Excitedly, I inquired as to how he got her skin to glow with such warmth of golden ochre and crimson. He nestled my elbow in his palm as he eased me toward the painting and explained his artistic process.It was fun having another artist to talk with, to puzzle out problems of color and value, to compare favorite painters and art philosophies. In college, I had been so head over heals involved with Robbie, that I did my course work, rushed back to the dorm to be with him, and didn't give myself the time to make friends, let alone hang out with established teacher-artists in the art department. My BFA degree had landed me a graphic arts job with Minnesota Life, a glossy recreation magazine, and I spent over a year doing computer artwork, but again, no real artist contacts-and no art opportunities. When my school loans were nearly repaid, and Robbie was making enough for both of us to live on, I went back to painting with pastels. Within two years, I was showing in the Twin Cities; then, six months later, in three other major metropolitan areas. That experience brought me into contact with other artisans, most of them women, all of us doing different subjects. We exhibited together on occasion, got together for group-show receptions, but I never really developed an artistic kinship with any painter-until I met Bart.He leaned into me as we conversed, and I maintained our inertia by pressing back. He took my left hand in his, and slipped his right arm around my back, supporting me as we talked about his lovers' faces; the aura of contemplation; the mysteries of connection, communion, and commitment.I told him how much I liked the piece, and he hugged me with appreciation. And that's when we should have stopped. I could have inquired about the adjacent painting, the woman with the large guava facing the viewer and the man turning away with his smaller one. But I didn't. His hug felt so good. As did the wine, our soak in the hot tub, my newly-found confidence.We rotated toward each other. He brought his lips to mine, and, rather than turn to accept his kiss on my cheek, I met him full on with my own. As our embrace progressed, intoxicatingly, I encircled his lanky waist and felt our towels drop away. With his manliness expanding against my belly and his hand raising tingles up my spine, I devoured his lower lip, squeaking a little in excitement when I felt his tongue enter my mouth.With both hands he lifted up my tiny breasts, his fingers running over my nipples, as ripe as his painted ones, then pulled each with gentle traction, making them ache all the more. I moved off his mouth, and began kissing his chest, lightly brushing the russet hairs with my lips in an ever-expanding oval. Initially passing over his nipples, I returned to suck each to hardness and heard him groan as I bit down on them tenderly.His finger pads moved down my spine to buttocks, backs of thigh, up to hipbones, and, twisting his hands around, his finger nails grazed across to my pussy tuft and up my abdomen to my back again, in a repeating hypnotic loop of arousal. When my tongue repaid his kindness, creating a saliva trail down his midline, my cheek butted into his erection. I turned deftly toward the large head, now deeply violet and glowing as hot as his figures' skin tones.Clumsily, we maneuvered our entangled selves to his model stand, and found our way to sitting upon the shag carpet remnant atop the platform, my mouth locked around him, my juices oozing into the rug. His hand found my slot, and as I drew my teeth up and over his rim, I felt his fingers close around my clit, pinching it rhythmically to our breathing. My shrieks of pleasure were stifled by taking more of his cock deeper in my throat, and, as I rocked onto his hand, he began thrusting into my mouth.“I'm gonna come,” he whispered, urgently.Having climaxed once already, and about to scream again, I was fully prepared to grant him his pleasure. Within seconds a hot bolus shot into my mouth, and this time I gurgled with delight as his flood of warmth quieted my cries.One hand circled my head, his fingers pushing through my perspiring hair. The other, perfumed by my cunt-flower, was rubbed against cheek, neck, and shoulder, all the while he praised my beauty in muffled tones. I regained my resting breathing tempo, but all I could mumble was, “Wonderful, wonderful,” as his cock slowly deflated in my mouth.“You guys up there?” Robbie had hollered from the bottom of the stairs.“Just gazing at some nudes,” Bart had called back, so nonchalantly, I thought that perhaps I had been dreaming all the while. But of course I wasn't.Bart and I had hurriedly wrapped our towels around us. He went ahead of me down the stairs, as I ducked into their bathroom to do a bidet-cleansing of my mouth, then joined everyone below to get dressed and prepare for our departure.“We're home,” announced Robbie. “Let's get right to bed. I love it when you're brominated.”I awoke from one nightmare to go back into what I feared was another. What Robbie pronounced was true. Being brominated meant that by soaking in the hot tub, I was disinfected everywhere, and his tongue could explore my private place with relatively impunity. Any other time, his suggestion would have made me forgo my nightly mouth care, but this evening, I delayed our entry into bed by flossing and brushing-with lots of toothpaste. That would cover up any telltale tastes, but I didn't know if the delay would allow my brain to become re-engaged in love making.Robbie and I have been very honest with each other. Well, I felt I have been completely honest, and I trusted full revelations would have been forthcoming from him. So as we pulled the sheets over our nakednesses, I wondered if I should bare all?“Do I tell him,” I asked myself? Did I want him to tell me-if there was anything to tell?What I knew more than anything was that I needed to have Robbie inside me right now. I had made a terrible mistake, but I needed to be loved by him for who I was-his imperfect wife. The one he comes home to. The one he treasures. The one to him, for all her faults, is the most important woman in the whole world. That's the way I felt about him, after all.My decision was made by default. He began to kiss me on my mouth, his hands roaming over my breasts, his warmth surrounding me, making me forget all about the tryst of two hours prior. I felt wholly consumed by this man, desired in a way I hadn't felt before. He was possessed it seemed, and he ravaged me with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, gnawing on my neck muscles, biting my nipples, tonguing deeply into my belly button as his fingers poked into my buttocks, scraped down my outer thighs and stroked back up the fronts.His rigidity pressed against me, but I wasn't about to let this end too quickly. I kissed him back. Roughly. Biting his lip, his chin, then along jaw bone to ear lobe.He writhed with the discomfort, but moaned in pleasure, calling out, “Mary Johnson, I love you, love you.”In a trice he was upon me, kissing me with abandon. I carved my nails down his backside, and his tempo accelerated.“Fuck me, Robbie! Fuck me hard!!” I urged.As I gripped his flanks, he pounded me, rocking our bed, the headboard cracking like a sledgehammer against the wall. In a voice an octave higher, I began to whine, inhaling sharply to fill my chest, about to explode into an earsplitting orgasm, when Robbie stopped. Pulled out. Rolled me over.“What the…?”“I need you completely tonight, M.J. All of you.”And he separated my ass cheeks and began nibbling that tender flesh around my anus, which drove me into the pre-ecstasy shudders. I knew what was coming next: his tongue would dive deeply into me, and I would light up our room with carmine, magenta, and cerulean lightning bolts, before flooding the bedsheets with a cloudburst from my womb.And he did. And so did I. I screamed and screamed. When I was sated and the bed soaked, he turned me over and had his way with me, and I came for a fifth or sixth time-but who's counting when your man is shouting into your ear and filling your vaginal cup with the most exquisite of liqueurs.As we lay aside each other in the warm puddle of us, both sweating from the physical effort, he professed just how much he cared for me. I knew exactly what he meant: I couldn't imagine loving another being more.Well, yes I could.With his hand moving over my hair, and warm exhalations against my cheek, he offered, “M.J., I got something to tell you.”Sighing in relief, I answered, “And I got something to tell you, too.”Which leads me to say; Bless me father; for I have sinned.By MarthaMcKinley for Literotica

Dan and Emily are back to talk about Week 1 of the AAC, breaking down all 11 games and what they're looking for. Excitedly, the pair also got off into multiple side tangents along the way. Plus, the two make their picks for each game in Week 1. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

I am glad I met Alister Dias, Vice-President, Google Cloud Australia and New Zealand. Alister shares his own story for the first time in this conversation. It is not the story of typical privilege we hear from so many leaders who dominate our corporate landscape. It is a story of perseverance and optimism, a story of racism, loss and hard work. Make time for this conversation.

Listen to Amica Simmons-Yon, PharmD, PhD and Alyssa Peckham, PharmD, BCPP as they spill the tea on Decriminalizing Mental Health with special guest, Caroline Fisher-O'Neill, Esq. During this episode, Caroline informs us on the meaning of “criminalization of mental health” so that we can better understand this disparity. She provides us with some examples of disproportionate criminalization and highlights what is currently being done to swing the pendulum in the opposite direction to decriminalize mental health. Excitedly, Caroline lets us know where we can find more resources on this topic! Featuring: Caroline Fisher-O'Neill, Esq.; Director, State Government Affairs, OAPI Caroline Fisher-O'Neill is the East Director for State Government Affairs at Otsuka. Prior to joining this team, nearly 10 years ago, she worked in the Massachusetts State Legislature on health policy. Serving as the General and Health Policy Counsel to the Senate Chair of the Healthcare Finance Committee, and later as Health Policy Counsel to the Speaker of the House, she gained a significant amount of exposure to the challenges inherent in the healthcare policy landscape. In her current role, she works with the GA team to drive open access to treatments and services for Otsuka's patient populations and leads initiatives to support Otsuka's commitment to helping individuals with serious mental illness. She resides in Brooklyn, NY. Amica Simmons-Yon, PharmD, PhD Clinical & Scientific Liaison, Otsuka Pharmaceutical Development and Commercialization, Inc. Alyssa Peckham, PharmD, BCPP Clinical & Scientific Liaison, Otsuka Pharmaceutical Development and Commercialization, Inc. Links: PsychU Interview | Decriminalizing Mental Illness: https://bit.ly/3Nm04WP PsychU Article | Baton Rouge Area Foundation Plans to Create Community Mental Health Diversion Center: https://bit.ly/3PtZGHW PsychU Article | Oregon Law To Decriminalize Drug Use Goes Into Effect, Offering Addiction Treatment Instead Of Incarceration: https://bit.ly/3lnLa6w PsychU Article | Federal Appeals Court Prohibits Arresting Homeless People For Sleeping In Public When Shelter Beds Are Insufficient: https://bit.ly/3Ptv0GF PsychU Article | Connecticut, New Mexico, New York & Virginia Legalized Recreational Use of Marijuana in 2021: https://bit.ly/3FVuTiP Caroline Fisher-O'Neill, Amica Simmons-Yon and Alyssa Peckham are employees of Otsuka America Pharmaceutical, Inc PsychU is supported by Otsuka Pharmaceutical Development & Commercialization, Inc. (OPDC), Otsuka America Pharmaceutical, Inc. (OAPI), and Lundbeck, LLC – committed supporters of the mental health treatment community. The opinions expressed by PsychU's contributors are their own and are not endorsed or recommended by PsychU or its sponsors. The information provided through PsychU is intended for the educational benefit of mental health care professionals and others who support mental health care. It is not intended as, nor is it a substitute for, medical care, advice, or professional diagnosis. Health care professionals should use their independent medical judgement when reviewing PsychU's educational resources. Users seeking medical advice should consult with a health care professional. No CME or CEU credits are available through any of the resources provided by PsychU. Some of the contributors may be paid consultants for OPDC, OAPI, and / or Lundbeck, LLC. US.CORP.X.22.00154

In this episode of the Drone for Good podcast, Mirragin's Andrew Crowe catches up with Aviassist's Founder & Managing Director, Ross Anderson. Aviassist is a leading RPAS training provider, with offices across Australia.  During the episode, Andrew chats with Ross about all things RPAS training, and the future of the industry. Excitedly, this episode was recorded at the AAUS RPAS in the Australian Skies National Conference, in Canberra where Ross and his team took home the Education and Safety Award at the AAUS Gala Dinner. Congrats to Aviassist!  Enjoy.  See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

It's 2005, and Marvel has tapped film screenwriter, director, and President of Entertainment of BET, Reginald Hudlin, to write a new Black Panther book. Excitedly, Reggie shares this news with his friends and family. Their reaction? “Who is the Black Panther?” Written by Reginald Hudlin, “Who Is The Black Panther” was Reggie's definitive response to that reaction— building off of previous Panther stories, and reintroducing T'Challa to the world by over-satisfying his community and his own desires for a black Super Hero.

~"It is the decisions you make, when you have no time to make them, that define who you are"~ What you believe about the world at large and how you fit into the general scheme of things will determine who you are and how you relate to the world you live in. Imagine for a moment little 8 year old Sarah spinning around in front of the mirror in the new pink dress her Mom has just bought her. Excitedly, she rushes in to show her Dad. “Daddy, do you like my new party dress?” she asks breathlessly. “Sweetheart, you look like a beautiful princess!” replies Dad. That defining moment in Sarah's life will stay with her forever. With careful nurturing, Sarah will always be able to look in the mirror and see herself as a beautiful woman. On the other hand, let's look at the new recruit, Tom, who is submitting his weekly sales report to his boss. “Tom, these sales figures are appalling! What are you doing? Some kind of moron?” Tom returns to his desk totally deflated. His boss has just reinforced the inner voice in Tom's head that constantly tells him he is hopeless; he is a failure; he will never amount to anything. He's heard that same voice his whole life. What we believe about ourselves is encapsulated in the voice we hear in our head. And what that voice tells us is so powerful it will manifest itself in every action we take, every word we say, and every thought we think. We are who we believe ourselves to be. If you get value from these Podcasts, please take a minute to leave me a short rating and review. I would really appreciate it and always love to hear from you. Subscribe to my high-value business success tips and resources Blog (https://www.accountabilitycoach.com/blog/) Take advantage of all the complimentary business tips and tools by joining the Free Silver Membership on https://www.accountabilitycoach.com/coaching-store/inner-circle-store/. Want more from The Accountability Coach™, subscribe to more high-value content by looking for me on https://www.accountabilitycoach.com/my-podcast/ and on most podcast platforms and in most English-speaking countries, or by going to https://itunes.apple.com/podcast/accountabilitycoach.com/id290547573. Subscribe to my YouTube channel with business success principles (https://www.youtube.com/annebachrach) Connect with me on Linked-In (https://www.linkedin.com/in/annebachrach) Connect with me on Pinterest (https://pinterest.com/resultsrule/) Connect with me on Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/annebachrach/) Connect with me on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/TheAccountabilityCoach) Go to https://www.accountabilitycoach.com to check out for yourself how I, as your Accountability Coach™, can help you get and stay focused on you highest payoff activities that put you in the highest probability position to achieve your professional and personal goals, so you can enjoy the kind of business and life you truly want and deserve. As an experienced accountability coach and author of 5 books, I help business professionals make more money, work less, and enjoy even better work life balance. Check out my proven business accelerator resources by going to https://www.accountabilitycoach.com/coaching-store/. Aim for what you want each and every day! Anne Bachrach The Accountability Coach™ Business professionals and Advisors who utilize Anne Bachrach's proven business-success systems make more money, work less, and enjoy better work life balance. Author of Excuses Don't Count; Results Rule, Live Life with No Regrets, No Excuses, the Work Life Balance Emergency Kit and more. Get your audio copies today.

You have asked and we have listened! You want more stories of Charlotte Bay Girl. For girls who are new, CBG is a series about 6 cousins that live in Charlotte Bay. They face issues just like every teen girl and with the help of each other, friends and God, they keep striving. We hope you enjoy the latest story.                             ___________________________________ Just as she was about to head downstairs, she saw a box labelled ‘Christmas.' “Yes!” Excitedly she opened the flaps and peered inside, disappointment rushed through her. She pulled out some Christmas cards from the dinosaur years, some Christmas tree ornaments that were pretty and rare and sitting at the bottom was a jewellery box that caught her attention. She pulled out the small blue box, blowing off a cloud of dust that had settled on it over the years. Engraved on top of the box was ‘Gold-leaf Jewellers' which was an expensive Jewellery shop in uptown Charlotte Bay. Silver opened the box carefully and gasped. Inside the silky cocoon sat an exquisite tiny silver bell with little diamonds encrusted on waist. A small card sat to one side it read ‘Twin charm Christmas bells' an image of twin silver bells was drawn on one corner. Silver inspected the box to see if the other bell was hiding somewhere - She lifted the silk material but nothing. There was only one bell charm. Um odd. She thought. Engraved on the band of the bell was the word Belle with an e at the end – like the name Belle. She touched the little belle word carefully and frowned, she had seen this bell before – there was something extremely familiar about it. Silver tilted her head to one side and bit her bottom lip – had it belonged to grandmama? She closed her eyes deep in thought – no. Where had she seen it? Frustrated she placed the charm back in its box and chided herself for worrying about it.                            ___________________________________ Tune in to listen to today's episode. Get your FREE eBook of the story HERE Meet the girls of Charlotte Bay Keep in the loop by signing to our GIGI Notes HERE DON'T FORGET TO SUBSCRIBE  Hosts: Esther & Steph Mix & effects: Stephanie Giselle Music: For King and Country: Joy to the world email us: writegigi5@gmail.com Write by post GIGI Teen Radio PO BOX 6505 Upper Mt Gravatt QLD 4122 music credit: Purple planet music All music played on the podcast radio is covered under the APRA AMCOS Online Mini Licence.

Here The Beckies, catch up and look at what has happened over the summer,  where we are now and what the future holds for  Thriving early years...We have been busy  writing our new book for Routledge  and recording some amazing podcasts with  great guest and we are now back face to face training  YAY!! Thank you to the lovely settings who have invited us back.  Excitedly we are collaborating  with  the fabulous facts4life team looking at children's emotional wellbeing in practice ( check out our previous podcast with them).  It is so important to build networks of supportive practice and this is just what Katherine at The children's reach hub has been creating, we are delighted to be supporting with this and cannot wait to meet more fantastic early years providers.  You know about our great passion for outdoor play, well we have been creating forest school sessions with a brilliant colleague Mindy Pickering  and with the awesome  support of Early Years Childhood Studies at The University of Gloucestershire.  You can catch us on Cotswold  Radio  Live  on  the 8th October, we ll be talking about the benefits of outdoor play and forest school.We are very pleased to be working with Vane Dean and Thriving Communities bring understanding the world to life and joining  early years practitioners together from the UK and Kenya.  This is free training so head to our website and book on now  for 28th Sept 21Check out our shop for live and zoom training events and head to our training section for online training.  Grab a cuppa and have a 10 min listen and catch up with us. www.thrivinglangauge.co.uk Rebecca@thrivinglanguage.co.uk Email in with any questions around speech language communication and the early years.Love The Beckies 

Stories this week include: The Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster goes to a disco. Scientists discover hotdogs unhealthy. Child freed from pressure cooker hat. Silent messianic figure appears to traffic in Swansea. The purple rod goes missing... Subscribe to Patreon for exclusive bonus episodes: https://www.patreon.com/LAPodcastExtra Website: http://www.lapodcast.net/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LAPodcast/ Twitter: @LAPodcast

Under My Skin is Elise Krentzel's upcoming coming-of-age memoir. She reveals with humor and candor her nine lives before the age of twenty: overcoming near-death as a child, an upbringing with few boundaries, unmatched dissonance from an abusive mother and a narcissistic father.Declaring her independence as a teenager, Elise discovered her sexuality in the 1970s, explored Europe and its men, and leveraged her innate talent as a writer for international rock and roll magazines. As the youngest journalist on the KISS Constellation Tour in Japan, she negotiated a job with a Japanese music industry megalith and stayed. She was 19.Yet beneath her glamorous street-smart exterior lay a tenderhearted, vulnerable Jewish girl from the Bronx.In 2008, after Elise returned from living in Europe for 20 years she formed ek public relations. It is the culmination of her career adventures and amazing life experiences in 5 countries on 3 continents. She courageously pioneered and built from scratch, successful media and marketing enterprises over the course of her 25+ year career. Starting as a music journalist, she toured with KISS in Japan, then spent the next five years operating the first foreign owned music talent & booking agency in Tokyo.She launched the first privately held interactive digital travel guide publishing house in Europe that offered GPS in the early 90s, and a non-profit AIDS organization in South Africa servicing youth through music video PSA's.Elise makes the possible probable through her comprehensive no-nonsense communication strategies. She leverages startups and big brands with strategic partners and transforms market share through innovative media approaches that positively impact the bottom line. She's authored two books, runs two blogs, and loves public speaking. She's listed in Who's Who in America, Who's Who in the East and sits on several boards.Tune in for this transformational discussion at TalkRadio.nyc or watch the Facebook Livestream by clicking here.Show NotesSegment 1 Welcoming us to today's show, Sam reads a section from his book Everyday Awakening. In this section, he discusses how creativity is about the joy and the possibilities within us. He also asks: what stops us from being creative? More than anything, he answers, what stops us is not being connected to ourselves. He continues to elaborate on this section of the book, bringing up that he had a teacher who spoke about how the antidote to fear is creation. Sam analyzes this to mean that in order to connect to ourselves to feel the joy of creativity we need to feel good about ourselves. After this brief discussion about creativity, Sam introduces this week's guest Elise Krentsel. Elise and Sam talk about how Elise was asked to work with KISS, the band, in Japan, even though she didn't like their music.Segment 2After the break, Sam asks why Elise finally said yes to working with KISS. After answering this question, she describes her move to Japan and how Japan was the antithesis of New York. Next, they talk about how Elise ended up taking another position after the tour and thus, stayed in Japan for five years. Elise describes that her father had no say in the matter, but that her mother definitely encouraged her to pursue this opportunity. Next, Sam asks if it was difficult adjusting to living in another country. Laughingly, Elise clams up, admitting that this question is going to be answered in her second book, and therefore, she can't fully discuss the answer on the show. However, she does let us know she believes that consciously going to learn about other cultures and other people is how you adapt to a new place. Elise continues that it's not just learning about another country, it's living it too.Segment 3 Returning to the show, Sam asks about how Elise felt about New York coming back from Japan. She talks about how different New York is from Japan and how that affected her. She then talks about how far more advanced Japan's technology was than the technology of the United States. Next, Sam and Elise discuss how Elise started a marketing agency in New York to service Japanese companies. Switching topics, Elise launches into how she eventually ended up going to Northern Europe. During her time in Northern Europe, she explains that she had the opportunity to create the first cds roms that were travel sized. This discussion prompts Sam and Elise to talk about how Elise spearheaded so many things, even talking about how in Japan she became known as the godmother of punk rock. Sam asks if doing so many projects was challenging. Elise answers that yes, but she thrives on it and enjoys being able to be ahead of any curve.Segment 4After our final break of the show, Sam asks why Elise wrote her recent memoir. Elise explains that she is a voracious writer, so much so that eventually she had a collection of over one hundred short stories about her life. Finally, during January of 2020 she decided that it was time to unravel these stories and put them into a trilogy. Excitedly, she lets us know that she has officially started on book two. Sam asks where the title of her first memoir, Under My Skin, came from. Explaining, Elise says the title came from having to peel back all layers of life to get to the core essence of the person she's always tried to become, however, was already that person. Continuing to elaborate, she talks about how something changed when she gave birth to her son; she started living life by looking within. She describes it this way: the first part of life she lived outward, the second part she spent looking inward. Now, today, she talks about how she currently is living life with the perfect blend of looking outward and inward. Closing the show, she lets us know how to contact her for information about her memoir, giving us the email info@undermyskinbook.com. To contact her further, she lets us know her website is ekpublicrelations.com.Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/the-conscious-consultant-hour8505/donations

In this episode, Caroline talks to Gamilaraay and Birri Gubba man Mitch Tambo. Mitch Tambo launched onto the global stage in 2019 after appearing as a finalist in Australia's Got Talent where he received not one, but two, golden buzzers, after singing in Aboriginal language.Mitch has been a headline act in some of the biggest shows in recent memory including the nationally televised Fire Fight Australia: Concert for National Bushfire Relief singing ‘You're the Voice' alongside John Farnham, Olivia Newton John and Queen's Brian May, The T20 Women's World Cup pre-match show, The Australian Open and Eurovision 2020 Australia Decides.Mitch is more than a singer, songwriter, and performer though, describing himself as a ‘man who just loves his culture'. Committed to empowering family and communities, Mitch has also completed a Bachelor of Social Work in 2014 and is Co- founder of True Culture.In this episode, they discuss how practicing Aboriginal culture keeps Mitch strong and grounded in between shows. And together, Caroline and Mitch recount their deep shared love for soaking up sacred Country in Australia.Excitedly, they also discuss the inspiration behind Mitch's latest single ‘Dreamtime Princess', which was released in May and aims to empower First Nations women, and women everywhere, to rise up, feel honoured and celebrated. The song has an important sentiment and explores the theme of domestic violence and the threat towards women. Mitch also wants to use the song to let women in the Aboriginal community know that they come from the oldest living continual culture on the planet.If you want to learn more about Mitch and his latest creative ventures then visit HOME | Mitch Tambo

(Starts at 0:48) Unifor members working on the Gulf ferries claim Marine Atlantic is conducting invasive and illegal alcohol testing among them, (13:54) Gander Academy students watch with excitement as their brand new school building is going up, right next door, and (20:01) people on the streets of Corner Brook give their two cents' worth on Newfoundland and Labrador re-opening to travelers.

Welcome to the Turtle Tales series.The Dancing Turtle is a folktale from Brazil.In today's Story: The Turtle loves to dance and play the flute. But her exuberance puts her at risk when her music attracts the attention of a hunter who brings her home for turtle stew. After she is caught, her only hope for escape wit. Free activity sheets and other downloadable resources available at www.rituvaish.com/the-dancing-turtleSend your artwork to rituvaish@gmail.com.TranscriptOnce upon a time, on the banks of a river, there lived a very musical Turtle who enjoyed playing her flute. When Turtle played, lions, elephants, butterflies, snakes, and monkeys danced to the Turtle's music. The turtle was very famous in the forest and all around the neighbouring towns. Children, put on the thinking caps and tell me what other instruments do you think that Turtle played?Yes, that's right. One day, a hunter heard Turtle's music. "Ahh," he thought. “That must be the famous Turtle making music. The turtle would make a perfect turtle soup. Let me try to catch him," he thought.He cooked up a plan and called out, "Turtle! Show me your beautiful flute." Children, Why do you think that the man called out for the turtle? What does he want to do? That's true, he wanted to make a perfect turtle soup. But that our turtle did not knowHe was very excited to show his flute and slowly walked towards the hunter. He held out her beautiful flute to the hunter.        But the moment the hunter saw Turtle, he grabbed her by the neck and began to run. The turtle tried to cry for help, but she couldn't make a sound.She closed her eyes, holding tightly to her flute for good luck.When the hunter reached his hut, he put Turtle into a cage and shut it.Then he turned to his children: "Don't let Turtle out of her cage." And off he went to the forest.  Children, what do you think the children will do next? The children began to play outside. Turtle sat very still inside her cage, thinking about the hunter's words. To calm herself she began to play a sweet tune on her flute, and the children ran to the cage. "Is that you playing that pleasing music, Turtle?" they asked, their eyes wide with wonder. "Yes," Turtle said. She kept on playing, for she could see the children were delighted. At last, she stopped. “That was the most wonderful music we have ever heard,” said the children in unison."I can dance even better than I can play," she said. "Would you like to see?""Oh, please!" the little boy cried."I'll show you how I  dance and play at the same time," said Turtle. Children, why do you think Turtle wants to dance?Let's listen ahead. The turtle lifted her flute but before even playing a single note, she stopped.“What happened, please dance for us. We have never seen a dancing turtle,” pleaded the children."You must open the cage. There is no room in here." Excitedly, and ignoring their father's word, the little children opened the cage.The Turtle began to dance and play her melodious music on the flute. The children were enchanted, and they laughed and clapped their hands, for never had they seen such a wonderful thing.Then the Turtle stopped."Don't stop!" the children cried. "Oh," Turtle groaned. "My legs are stiff. If I could just walk a little bit to loosen them.” "Sure! But don't go too far," the little girl cautioned. “Come right back," said the little boy. "Never fear," said Turtle. "You wait right here."Children, where do you think that Turtle will walk?Turtle crawled off toward the jungle. The moment she was out of sight, she raced all the way back to her house. Nobody ever found the Turtle again. But to this day, if you strain your ear, you can hear the sweet sound of a flute in the forest.   

In the midst of 2020 lockdown, going a little bit crazy with nothing to do (and no way to service my clients), I thought it would be a brilliant idea to learn how to do digital painting. It seemed like the perfect extra service to offer my clients - gorgeous artwork that could be created even after their pets had passed.Excitedly, I bought myself a wacom tablet and enrolled in a digital painting course, ready to become the next Vincent Van Dog.Well. It was not nearly as easy as I had hoped it would be - that skill takes some serious practice! I'm a little embarrassed to admit that after a month or so, I put down wacom pen in defeat. My dreams of offering digital painting as a secondary revenue stream to my clients were quietly retired - until we heard about Lesley Davidson and her ghost painting service with the Painterly Portrait.Tune into this latest interview episode to find out everything you want to know about digital painting for pet photographers - whether it's Lesley's best tips for learning yourself, how you can hire a “ghost painter” if (like me) you're not a digital painter and in the extended episode we brainstorm different ways that you could successful integrate this service into your existing business model. in THE EXTENDED EPISODE:* Session and pricing ideas for introducing digital painting to your pet photography businessLINKS:Website: https://www.thepainterlyportrait.com.au Social Media: https://www.instagram.com/thepainterlyportrait and https://www.facebook.com/thepainterlyportrait ALSO MENTIONED:Awake Group with Sebastian Michaels (Compositing)Elevate Your Art: Digital Painting with Michelle ParsleyClick here to listen to the full extended version of this episode in the Memberzone

Holmberg's Morning Sickness - Opening Break - Tuesday May 18, 2021 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Holmberg's Morning Sickness - Opening Break - Tuesday May 18, 2021

Due to technical difficulties, Daphne is alone in this episode of Chit Chat with the Crazee Chixz on the first episode of season 2. Excitedly, Daphne shares a true-life story that has helped to keep her in the theoretical climb when she has faced challenges in life. Especially, creative challenges. Join her for this very special episode as the Crazee Chixz head into this new season. You can find us at: CrazeeChixz; Facebook: YouTube; Twitter; Instagram; TikTok;  Pinterest; and  Etsy  Support the show (https://www.paypal.com/donate?hosted_button_id=BUGXU94X4WKHE) Support the show (https://www.paypal.com/donate?hosted_button_id=BUGXU94X4WKHE)

The Beaver's Sacrifice is a story about a little Beaver's sacrifice to save his community.Free activity sheet available at www.rituvaish.com/originals-the-beavers-sacrifice.Send your artwork to rituvaish@gmail.com.Transcript“Ouch!” screamed little Chewy, the beaver, as a log fell on his tail.“Are you alright?” called out mummy, rushing toward Chewy. “My tail hurts but luckily the log didn't fall on my head!” little Chewy said, trying to smile.“Don't worry,” said mummy patting his head, “You'll be fine soon.”Over the next few days, Chewy just hung around at the bank of the river while all the beavers were busy building the dam before the river froze for the winter. Children, a dam is like a barrier built to hold water forming a reservoirHave you heard of a river dam before? How big do you think it is?Well, It's even taller than your parents!Listen to the story In a couple of weeks, the tail healed and little Chewy decided to help out in making the dam.Excitedly, little Chewy nibbled a tree trunk and carefully carried it to the river.Plonk! He jumped and moved to the centre of the river where other beavers were setting the logs and claying them to build a strong dam.But little Chewy could not manoeuvre himself in the river. He started wondering what was wrong and why he was not able to move his tail according to his wishes. Children, why do you think he couldn't move himself?You'll soon find out. Suddenly, there was a gush of water and little Chewy was carried away by the currents.“Help! Help!” he screamed.All the beavers stopped and, realizing what was happening, rushed towards little Chewy.Luckily there was a flat area where the flow of the water was not strong.The beavers circled him and helped him ashore.“Looks like the tail is damaged!” whispered a cousin.Mummy, comforting little Chewy, expressed, “Looks like your tail is damaged and so you must not go to the middle of the river.”“But how will I help in building the dam?” retorted little Chewy.“You may cut the logs and pass them to us. That's an important job too,” Mummy suggested.Little Chewy was sad, but agreed.Every day, little Chewy helped a little but most of the time he just hung around by the side of the river.One day, as he was sawing on a tree to cut it for the dam, he stopped halfway and saw that the log resembled his mother's face.He was elated and he sculpted it for a few more days.Little Chewy carved out the details so that it resembled his mother.Everyone admired his piece of art and that support encouraged him to keep carving things out of logs. What kind of things do you think Chewy carved? Well, days slipped by and he made trees, squirrels, birds, etc. from the logs of wood.Everyone was in awe of his sculpturing skills.One day, he saw a huge tree with a big tree trunk and decided to make his family sculpture: mom, dad, his two siblings and himself. He meticulously started carving, engrossed in it day and night. The winters were fast approaching and the beaver community was frantically rushing to build the dam.Far in one corner, Little Chewy was painstakingly working day and night to give the final touches to his family sculpture.One day he overheard his uncles discussing with his father, “Winter is here early. We have already had the first snowfall. The water in the river will freeze much before its time and we haven't finished the dam yet.”“That is indeed true, let us put in all our energies into completing the dam,” the father urged the whole community. Children, can you name the season that comes right before winter? That's right, it's the Fall season ! The leaves fall from the tree and then winter comes in with cooler temperatures. As luck would have it, that night there was more snow and the temperature dipped further.The next morning everyone worked felling trees, carrying them to the river, and placing them in the dam in the right position.It felt like the beavers and the weather were having a race. Children, would the beavers complete the dam or would the weather freeze the river first?Finally, only the last piece was left to be fixed, but the beavers were exhausted. They couldn't move at all.The only beaver with any strength left was Chewy. He turned to the river and his family, noticing that they were exhausted, and looked around for a tree to fix the last piece. Alas, there was none. What would you do if you were Chewy and couldn't find any more pieces left to make the dam?Let's see what happens in the story. Finally, he gazed as his beautiful family structure, noticing all of the intricacies he had spent so much time detailing. He picked it up and carried it carefully to the river. Then he requested, “Please put this as the last piece in the dam for we do not have much time left.”“But this is so pretty and you been working so hard at it,” his cousins said.Little Chewy insisted, “We cannot lose time as the top layer of the river has already frozen. You all saved my life. If it wasn't for you all I wouldn't have been alive today. So, this is just a token of appreciation, please accept it.”That sculpture became the final piece in the dam.“Hurray! Thanks Little Chewy for sacrificing your sculpture,” shouted all the beavers. “We'll all be safe this winter!” Now the community was safe. The lake formed by the dam was deep and the water didn't freeze, saving the beaver community and their nest.

We can celebrate what others consider mundane and ordinary because it's miraculous. After all, it's God-given.

Prov 16:3, Prov 4:23 “I love take-away!” He said excitedly. When tutoring one of my younger students Take Away and observing that he was struggling with working out the basic methods after some tutorial sessions on the topic. I told him “you love adding but you do not seem to love “take away”. Excitedly, he said “I love take-away”. I laughed! My student was obviously not on the same radar with me. Have you got visions, ideas, or dreams that seem bigger than you. You believe the visions, the ideas and dreams such that you are always excited each time you share it but the people you tell do not seem to see what you are seeing - they are not on the same radar as you! Do not worry! Stay focused! Keep your head high end protect your heart and vision from distractions as we are advised in Proverbs 4:23 to..More than anything guard and protect our mind, for life flows from it. Our lives are shaped by our thoughts. ‭‭ Only share your ideas and visions and dreams with optimistic people. Most importantly, continuously commit your ideas, visions and dreams to the Lord, and He will help your to fine-tune and establish your plans as Proverbs 16:3 states “Commit your works to the LORD [submit and trust them to Him], And your plans will succeed [if you respond to His will and guidance].” ‭‭ God will also help bring right people your way. Pray Thank You Lord for the ideas, visions and dreams in my mind. I lay them bare before You Thank You Lord because You will helps me to find-tune and establish them. Thank You also for the right people You will bring my way. In Jesus' name. Amen --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/abimbola-arawande/message

In this second-to-last pre-election episode of Cast Iron Brains, we do about what you’d expect us to do a week out from the election. Don’t forget to head to the website to complete your entry in the CIB 2020 Election Forecast Game, and to find today’s show note.www.brainiron.com/podcast/episode0029

Washington County, Pennsylvania. 15 miles south of Pittsburgh. 9:37 PM. A call comes in from your realtor. Tired and exhausted from the day, he softly exclaims, “CONGRATULATIONS! YOUR OFFER HAS BEEN ACCEPTED!” Excitedly, you hang up the phone. As you attempt to fall asleep that night, you find yourself wide awake with giddiness and joy knowing that your offer has been accepted and you just bought a house. BUT, in your euphoric state of glee, your mind begins to wonder. “What's next in the home buying process…how much money do I bring to closing…when should I order the movers to come get my stuff…how do I get the names of the utility companies…when do I get the inspection scheduled…did I request an inspection in my offer…” Your mind is filled with those questions and so many more. Today, we lay out what are the key things to accomplish as the buyer (and the seller) in the first 48 hours after your offer has been accepted. TALKING POINTS (3-5): • Buyers • Call your lender • Order home inspection • Order camera test (if you wish) • Get your hand money check to your realtor • Speak with your insurance agent • Order survey (if applicable) • Sellers • Order dye test • Order occupancy permit inspection/camera test/HOA documents, if applicable • PACK YOUR STUFF! • What is your realtor doing? • Final thoughts LINKS: JASON: https://jasonwilcox.cbintouch.com/ https://www.zillow.com/profile/jasonwilcox1987/ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCrRksfKiMNteHKYRYrinAug?view_as=subscriber https://www.facebook.com/jason.wilcox.186 https://twitter.com/jason_wilcox1 https://www.instagram.com/jason.wilcox1/ CONTACT INFORMATION: JASON: Cell Phone: 412-651-4638 Email: jason.wilcox@pittsburghmoves.com

Heyyyyy Hoagie Mouth nation, we missed you. So we came back. You must simply forgive us as we were having babies and going on "safe-cations". But here we are - talking EXCITEDLY about the return of sports. We dive into the Eagles first - we discuss the Desean Jackson debacle (we realize there's been a few...), and where the team goes from here. The return of the Bodyguard - Jason Peters rejoins and the boys celebrate. Moving on to the NBA bubble - we wax philosophical about Joel's conditioning and Ben's jumpers. Both are coming along well. And then the return of hockey - will the Flyers maintain their momentum and make a big push in the postseason? We barely talk about baseball. Next episode for that!! Email: hoagiemouthpod@gmail.com Twitter: @hoagiemouthpod --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/jeffrey-wolfe/support

In which I vaguely describe having pulled things together for my game. Continue reading →

Ryan Ruocco talks about the MLB season awaiting confirmation from players, why he believes most fans will still be fully invested, how games will appear with limited to no fans, the debate relating to playoff expansion and more. 

Jordan Lehning, Petty, Heavy Richard, Conner Youngblood, Joy Oladokun, Black Bra, Tim Gent, Joe Pisapia, Medusa's Hairdresser

Jordan Lehning, Petty, Heavy Richard, Conner Youngblood, Joy Oladokun, Black Bra, Tim Gent, Joe Pisapia, Medusa's Hairdresser

Excitedly they receive the box of pressed vinyl and the whole band opens the box excitedly! However, not all seems to be as they had agreed. Camilo has once more followed his instinct and not the band's wishes... --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/sandra-wright1/message

Dan and Debbie’s Creamery was the recipient of the Way to Dairy Award, and is currently in the midst of construction for their new facility. Their Lely Vector automatic feeding system and Lely Astronaut robotic milking system recently arrived on the farm, and the Takes family is very excited for start-up to begin. This week we are joined by Josie Rozum who will share her family’s story, and how Lely dairy robotics fit into their dairy’s future.

Excitedly embarking on my first ever overseas holiday with my sister, little did I know that my life would soon turn upside down. Connect with me on LinkedIn or on Instagram @TruthAbtNobody / Twitter or write to me at thetruthaboutnobody.gmail.com - I'd love to hear from you! Oh, and do check out my other podcast "The Good Comms Podcast with Preeti Singh" on Anchor, Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts and your other favorite listening platforms! --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/ps193/message

In today's episode you'll hear two pieces of wisdom about how to get people willing and excited to help you... all by helping yourself!

Let’s talk about evangelism. Bill Bright, co-founder of Campus Crusade for Christ, defines evangelism as, “Taking the initiative to share the gospel in the power of the Holy Spirit and leaving the results to God.” When you think about sharing the Gospel, what comes to mind? Do you think about the words you will say? The faces of the people you will converse with (possibly furrowed brows or closed-off posture)? Or maybe you think about the emotions you will feel as you share (will you be all nerves? Excitedly energetic?). Sharing your faith can be one of the most exciting activities in the Christian’s journey. It can also be one of the most intimidating. And one thing we do not want to do is unnecessarily "weird people out." Get the full show notes at http://thethink.institute. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/the-think-podcast/message

Matt and Haley had always planned on having kids - up to five, in fact. Excitedly, they began the journey without hiccup with the birth of their first son, Hudson. Their second child, to be named Fletcher, would become a blessing for different reasons.

~"It is the decisions you make, when you have no time to make them, that define who you are"~ What you believe about the world at large and how you fit into the general scheme of things will determine who you are and how you relate to the world you live in. Imagine for a moment little 8 year old Sarah spinning around in front of the mirror in the new pink dress her Mom has just bought her. Excitedly, she rushes in to show her Dad. “Daddy, do you like my new party dress?” she asks breathlessly. “Sweetheart, you look like a beautiful princess!” replies Dad. That defining moment in Sarah's life will stay with her forever. With careful nurturing, Sarah will always be able to look in the mirror and see herself as a beautiful woman. On the other hand, let's look at the new recruit, Tom, who is submitting his weekly sales report to his boss. “Tom, these sales figures are appalling! What are you? Some kind of moron?” Tom returns to his desk totally deflated. His boss has just reinforced the inner voice in Tom's head that constantly tells him he is hopeless; he is a failure; he will never amount to anything. He's heard that same voice his whole life. What we believe about ourselves is encapsulated in the voice we hear in our head. And what that voice tells us is so powerful it will manifest itself in every action we take, every word we say, and every thought we think. We are who we believe ourselves to be. If you get value from these Podcasts, please take a minute to leave me a short review. I would really appreciate it. Let me know if you would like me to talk about certain topics that you feel would be of value to you. Take advantage of all the complimentary business tips and tools by joining the Free Silver Membership on https://www.accountabilitycoach.com/coaching-store/inner-circle-store/. Check out all the great free high-content training web classes, by going to https://www.accountabilitycoach.com/free-articles/free-webinars/. Want more from The Accountability Coach™, subscribe to more high-value content by going to https://itunes.apple.com/podcast/accountabilitycoach.com/id290547573. Check out my high-value Blog (https://www.accountabilitycoach.com/blog/) Subscribe to my YouTube channel with business success principles (https://www.youtube.com/annebachrach) Connect with me on Linked-In (https://www.linkedin.com/in/annebachrach) Connect with me on Pinterest (https://pinterest.com/resultsrule/) Connect with me on Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/annebachrach/) Connect with me on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/TheAccountabilityCoach) Go to https://www.accountabilitycoach.com to check out for yourself how I, as your Accountability Coach™, can help you get and stay focused on you highest payoff activities that put you in the highest probability position to achieve your professional and personal goals, so you can enjoy the kind of business and life you truly want and deserve. As an experienced accountability coach and author of 5 books, I help business professionals make more money, work less, and enjoy even better work life balance. Check out my proven business accelerator resources by going to https://www.accountabilitycoach.com/coaching-store/. Aim for what you want each and every day! Anne Bachrach The Accountability Coach™ Business professionals and Advisors who utilize Anne Bachrach's proven business-success systems make more money, work less, and enjoy better work life balance. Author of Excuses Don't Count; Results Rule, Live Life with No Regrets, No Excuses, the Work Life Balance Emergency Kit and more. Get your audio copies today.

In this week’s episode, Yes But Why Podcast showcases singer songwriter, Aubrey Hays. Aubrey Hays is an Austin-based musician who is set to release her debut album very soon this summer of 2019. Following the success of her 2018 NPR Tiny Desk submission, Aubrey started a band with drummer, Conner Ingle, and together, they currently perform all around the live music venues of the Austin, TX area and hopefully soon, across the country. Check out the 2019 Tiny Desk submission that they made together!In this episode, Aubrey talks about growing up watching her mom make theater and eventually getting a theater degree herself. Aubrey shares the struggle to find her own way as a performer. She tells Amy about how music is her way to connect to an audience, especially her song, “Mean to Me.”Aubrey was such a delight to talk to! Listen in for the discussion of both Aubrey’s creative process and the creative process in general. Lots of good talking points on what it takes to live a life in the arts! Support Aubrey Hays by going to one of her shows and by buying her album as soon as it is available!Yes But Why Podcast is a proud member of the HC Universal Network family of podcasts. Download the FREE HC Universal Network app for Android and iDevices or visit us at HCUniversalNetwork.com and join the fun.This episode of Yes But Why podcast is sponsored by audible - get your FREE audiobook download and your 30 day free trial at http://www.audibletrial.com/YESBUTWHY.

In this week’s episode, Yes But Why Podcast showcases singer songwriter, Aubrey Hays. Aubrey Hays is an Austin-based musician who is set to release her debut album very soon this summer of 2019. Following the success of her 2018 NPR Tiny Desk submission, Aubrey started a band with drummer, Conner Ingle, and together, they currently perform all around the live music venues of the Austin, TX area and hopefully soon, across the country. Check out the 2019 Tiny Desk submission that they made together!In this episode, Aubrey talks about growing up watching her mom make theater and eventually getting a theater degree herself. Aubrey shares the struggle to find her own way as a performer. She tells Amy about how music is her way to connect to an audience, especially her song, “Mean to Me.”Aubrey was such a delight to talk to! Listen in for the discussion of both Aubrey’s creative process and the creative process in general. Lots of good talking points on what it takes to live a life in the arts! Support Aubrey Hays by going to one of her shows and by buying her album as soon as it is available!Yes But Why Podcast is a proud member of the HC Universal Network family of podcasts. Download the FREE HC Universal Network app for Android and iDevices or visit us at HCUniversalNetwork.com and join the fun.This episode of Yes But Why podcast is sponsored by audible - get your FREE audiobook download and your 30 day free trial at http://www.audibletrial.com/YESBUTWHY.

In this week’s episode, Yes But Why Podcast showcases singer songwriter, Aubrey Hays. Aubrey Hays is an Austin-based musician who is set to release her debut album very soon this summer of 2019. Following the success of her 2018 NPR Tiny Desk submission, Aubrey started a band with drummer, Conner Ingle, and together, they currently perform all around the live music venues of the Austin, TX area and hopefully soon, across the country. Check out the 2019 Tiny Desk submission that they made together! In this episode, Aubrey talks about growing up watching her mom make theater and eventually getting a theater degree herself. Aubrey shares the struggle to find her own way as a performer. She tells Amy about how music is her way to connect to an audience, especially her song, “Mean to Me.” Aubrey was such a delight to talk to! Listen in for the discussion of both Aubrey’s creative process and the creative process in general. Lots of good talking points on what it takes to live a life in the arts! Support Aubrey Hays by going to one of her shows and by buying her album as soon as it is available! Yes But Why Podcast is a proud member of the HC Universal Network family of podcasts. Download the FREE HC Universal Network app for Android and iDevices or visit us at HCUniversalNetwork.com and join the fun. This episode of Yes But Why podcast is sponsored by audible - get your FREE audiobook download and your 30 day free trial at http://www.audibletrial.com/YESBUTWHY.

In this week’s episode, Yes But Why Podcast showcases singer songwriter, Aubrey Hays. Aubrey Hays is an Austin-based musician who is set to release her debut album very soon this summer of 2019. Following the success of her 2018 NPR Tiny Desk submission, Aubrey started a band with drummer, Conner Ingle, and together, they currently perform all around the live music venues of the Austin, TX area and hopefully soon, across the country. Check out the 2019 Tiny Desk submission that they made together! In this episode, Aubrey talks about growing up watching her mom make theater and eventually getting a theater degree herself. Aubrey shares the struggle to find her own way as a performer. She tells Amy about how music is her way to connect to an audience, especially her song, “Mean to Me.” Aubrey was such a delight to talk to! Listen in for the discussion of both Aubrey’s creative process and the creative process in general. Lots of good talking points on what it takes to live a life in the arts! Support Aubrey Hays by going to one of her shows and by buying her album as soon as it is available! Yes But Why Podcast is a proud member of the HC Universal Network family of podcasts. Download the FREE HC Universal Network app for Android and iDevices or visit us at HCUniversalNetwork.com and join the fun. This episode of Yes But Why podcast is sponsored by audible - get your FREE audiobook download and your 30 day free trial at http://www.audibletrial.com/YESBUTWHY.

Wisdom-Trek / Creating a Legacy Welcome to Day 1147 of our Wisdom-Trek, and thank you for joining me. This is Guthrie Chamberlain, Your Guide to Wisdom Give Half to the Poor – Humor Unplugged Wisdom – the final frontier to true knowledge. Welcome to Wisdom-Trek where our mission is to create a legacy of wisdom, to seek out discernment and insights, and to boldly grow where few have chosen to grow before. Hello, my friend, I am Guthrie Chamberlain, your captain on our journey to increase wisdom and create a living legacy. Thank you for joining us today as we explore wisdom on our 2nd millennium of podcasts. This is https://wisdom-trek.com/day-1147/ (Day 1147) of our trek, and it is time for our 3-minute mini-trek called Humor Unplugged. Our Thursday podcast will provide a short and clean funny story to help you lighten up and live a rich and satisfying life – something to cheer you and provide a bit a levity in your life. We are told in  https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs+15:30&version=NLT (Proverbs 15:30,) “A cheerful look brings joy to the heart; good news makes for good health.” We are also encouraged in https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs+17:22&version=NLT (Proverbs 17:22,)  “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person's strength.” Consider this your vitamin supplement of cheer for today. So let's jump right in with today's funny which is titled… Give Half to the Poor Pastor Peter, the pastor of the local community church in the village, was preaching a rousing sermon about being willing to give to those in need. As he ramps up on his final point, he emphasized it with this statement, “The trouble with the world today is that some people have too much and others have too little. We must give of ourselves and our worldly goods to help the less fortunate.” To drive his point home he caught the attention of one of the church deacons Brother John, and Pastor Peter asked him, “Brother John, If you had a million dollars would you be willing to give half of it to the poor?” Brother John speaks up and proudly said, “Amen, Pastor, I would indeed.” Excitedly, Pastor Peter then says, and Brother John, “If you had two cars, wouldn’t you give one of them to your neighbor next door if they needed it?” Looking a bit embarrassed at this, Brother John sheepishly says…“Well, I don't think I would be able to Pastor.” Pastor Peter then asked, “And why not?”  Brother John replied, “That's different, Pastor, I already have two cars.” Well, I hope that brought a smile to your face today. If it did, pass that smile on to someone who really needs it. Our Thursday Thought is…“Give of yourself. Be of service to others. Only what you give can be multiplied back into your own life.” https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke+6:38&version=NLT (Luke [6:38]) “Give, and you will receive. Your gift will return to you in full—pressed down, shaken together to make room for more, running over, and poured into your lap. The amount you give will determine the amount you get back.” Just as you enjoy these nuggets of humor, please encourage your friends and family to join us and then come along https://wisdom-trek.com/day-1148/ (tomorrow) for another day of our Wisdom-Trek, Creating a Legacy. If you would like to listen to any of our past 1146 treks or read the Wisdom Journal, they are all available at https://wisdom-trek.com (Wisdom-Trek.com). I encourage you to subscribe to Wisdom-Trek on your favorite podcast player so each day will be downloaded to you automatically. Thank you for allowing me to be your guide, mentor, and most importantly, your friend as I serve you through the Wisdom-Trek podcast and journal each day. As we take this trek together, let us always: Live Abundantly (Fully) Love Unconditionally Listen Intentionally Learn Continuously

In this week's podcast, we welcomed Samantha from Abu Dhabi to the home team in Philly! The group was in a celebratory mood for lots of reasons. Did You Know: Tim Fitts is the co-founder of Philly's Home Brew Reading Series, which will not only provide you with free beer, but also, an experience only to be described as a "full blast". Before we got into the poems, Kathleen could be heard chanting, "I love my job, I love my job." That's right, speak it into existence! The first of several poems, was written by *robo voice* Stephanie Berger. (Listen to the episode and you’ll get it.) "Just To Give You An Idea," is a dense piece with surreal lines. Or according to Jason, "feels like the whole universe. Incredibly expansive and intimate at the same time." Whew! Just take my breath away, while you're at it. Next up, is a fun read titled, "It Doesn't Hurt That She Is Beautiful." After reading the poem, do you agree that it has "little land mines" or "pop rocks" (or both)? This piece brought a wave of nostalgia amongst the crew. Kathleen was brought back to reading a book by a brook (see what I did there?) as her husband went fly fishing. However, this piece put Kathleen and Tim Fitts at opposite ends and although they did not literally arm wrestle, they did figuratively speaking, as true literary geniuses do to settle disagreements over poetry. Thirdly was "Below His Monocle" which had us evaluating its depths down to point we were arguing how many exclamation points are too many in a poem. It got so fiery that our sound engineer, Joseph Zang, threatened to cut off Tim's mic! After they were able to cool down, we continued with "Only Light Where The Leaves Once Were." You just have to read that one yourself to be hit by the fantastic ending. Dear Stephanie Berger, Tim is begging you to let him use your creative genius for the title of his next set of short stories: How does "Truth, Marrow, Stone and Consequence" sound? Tune in to hear Jason's sad attempt at French, as he refers to Wallace Stevens', "Le Monocle de Mon Oncle" while Kathleen ups the ante with both The Handmaid’s Tale AND The Great Gatsby. Or if you're a Tim Fitts fan, as a person, not an author, although that's okay too, take his advice and read "The Beginning Of His Excellent and Eventful Career" by Cameron MacKenzie. Finally, listen in to possibly comprehend how we ended discussing monocles in the 21st century. Do you have one? More importantly, do you want one?   Fifteen facts and one lie about Stephanie Berger: Stephanie is a natural born redhead.  At the age of 1, she drank from a $500 bottle of grand vin Château Latour.  At the age of 8, she ate a pigeon in a Parisian cafeteria.  Stephanie was raised by not one, but two cultural sociologists. She is left-handed.  She is a switch-hitter. The first poem she remembers writing was called "Dog and Cat Baseball at Sunset." Her favorite place to write is at the bottom of a canyon or the site of a spring.  Her favorite herb is tarragon.  Her favorite sound is suction.  Her favorite section of an essay is the introduction.  Her least favorite section of an essay is the body.  Her favorite goddess is Mnemosyne.  She once had a 21-year-old cat named Daphne.  Her partner's name is Alex.  Her business partner's partner's name is also Alex.    JUST TO GIVE YOU AN IDEAImagine this rock hereis the center of the universe.Imagine this rock is your belly button.Divide your body into halves, then quarters,& then: make a planet. This legof our journey will take about 500 years.I would like to stop & show you whyalong the way, but the bones, they’re telling usto keep moving. Seas of femurs, poolsof pelvises, arranged as arrows& symmetrical suns. Here you find a hole& make something in it. Your aesthetics reflecta fear of empty space, a terror of the vacuum,like a sleeping feline with the face of an owl& the tail of a snake must be sacrificed.I returned to the fetal position in the afterlife.My soul made a circular journey down the river& up the Milky Way. Now I’m back!So, let me tell you a little something about caves& rivers. No one shall pass through but by me.My belly button is the center of this universe,a sacred valley, surrounded by mountainsfilled with silver so luxuriously. We allwant to look a little richer than we are.Those ear plugs are a status symbol.We all know that baby alpaca is coolto the touch, that eucalyptus towersabove the peaks & helps us breatheat the site where we can seethe founder of the lightning bolt, that goldenidol with a hole where his heartshould be. A mole on his face in the shapeof Peru. Jesus with a guinea pig laid outon the table. Mother Mary with coco leavespuffing out her cheek. Teenage girls grindingthe corn like teeth. I believe in reciprocity:offering my tears & receivingyour laugh, splitting my body into two& giving you half. This is the pointwhere our two valleys meet.That’s why we’re in a wind tunnel.     IT DOESN’T HURT THAT SHE IS BEAUTIFULAs she descends into the canyon, she becomesthe descent, the way an actioncan become solid as a steeple.I can be the downfall of man! That sunburstof flesh! For I amthe moment the desert meets waterfrom the mountains, an instantconnection, a language that can travelinto your memorieslike a fiction, like waterfrom the earth, a landscapemore various than the human heart.But she isn’t human. The way her nosecomes down the centerof her face like a coin, like candlewax, a waterfall. A beautifulcreator. A dutiful daughter.Excitedly, she babbled, moreadorable than any brook.Things come to a head.They come into it. You reacha point in your life. There is a pointin every life at whichyou can see no further, a blackhole in a bucket, & so you let itdrip, clear as a windowin the water. It is important to rememberthere are windows in the water.     ONLY LIGHT WHERE THE LEAVES ONCE WERETruth, marrow, stone, & consequence.She didn’t earn a dime of it. The light,hammering down on the desertfrom the opposite side of yourexpectations as the morning shiftsto afternoon. His hat tilted lowover one eye, he was practically debonairin his exhaustion, drunk on the featherin his cap. She askedwho gave it to him.Once she’d skinny-dipped with somekind of demigod& his daughter. She found a dogin the water & the wordfor “family” was born.She wanted to eatthe lilies, to be filled & floatingon the water like a body.I can see her, sun-drenched& precise & yet, we have never met.Love is a mystery that way,more civil than any city, like a pilgrimwho reaches her destination& cannot bear to stop.   BELOW HIS MONOCLEBefore the pharmacy, above the apothecary,I lived for a spell. With broomsticksin a closet with no name.Along the spine of the hill, below the ashen faceof heaven, I waited for his ovine spiritto graze my face.She held her breath so tightly it escaped her, she liedin the desert, like it’s just so cruciformthat the vultures sitting down for dinner withgods are like gentlemen in comparison,cartoonish only to the hawker, the rhymeof her cracked lips.It is everywhere, this sackof pronouns, holding onto each other for dearlife—its fetching beaks & blouses, boutonnières. It is dearto glare imperially from one’s mountain-palace.If vulgar, it is vulture, valiant, a peachand so chatty, she inhaled the words voluptuouslywith a churchlike desire to concealher meaning. The tremendous gentlenessof that moment smothers me, divestedof its garland, its daughters, the pageholding itself togetherlike a life.  

Tonight I will be speaking to three guests who all have very different encounters. Matt writes “The encounter happened during July of 95. I live in NC near the Uwharrie mountains now. Back in 95 I lived at the base of the Blue Ridge mountains. Wilkes county to be exact. Me and my friend Mike were headed from the bottom of the mountain to a friend’s house on the top of the mountain. We decided to take the scenic route, late afternoon. The scenic route was a pavement to gravel road called Big Ivy. It was paved at the base of the mountain. But as soon as you started up, it turned to gravel. It was hot even on the side of the mountain, and we were smoking cigarettes. So we had the windows open. We got half way up the mountain, around dusk, and rounded a curve to the left. The road had a drop off to the right, and a very steep bank to the left. As we came around the curve I noticed something walking up onto the side of the road on the right. At first in the dusk, I thought it was a real tall man in a trenchcoat. I said to Mike, “Who’s the trenchcoat”? I looked back and immediately stopped the truck. I saw it wasn’t a man. But whatever it was, it was 7-8′ tall. It just stood there stunned as we were that the other was there. The orange hair on it’s right leg had several places where it was matted together. It had a man’s face more than an apes. At least that’s the way I saw it. With hair up the cheeks of it’s face It had a slight grin on it’s face. Almost like it was smiling. I’m not sure if it was a male or female. I looked at it with awe. Mike however was on the side of the vehicle closest to it, and went into a panic. Kicking the floor board, pushing himself back into the seat. He started yelling “Get out of here”! Startled by his panic, I turned to look at him. Causing me to miss the Bigfoot cross the road right in front of the headlights. When I looked back, he was climbing up the bank on the left, with ease. This bank is so steep, I would have to climb up it on my belly. The Bigfoot went right up in no time flat. I ignored Mike’s yells, and got out of the vehicle. I immediately caught the smell. The smell of water rot, BO, and urine. Foul. I heard him crashing thru the brush on top of the hill. I stood around for a few minutes. Got back in the truck and we left. Excitedly telling our friend about the encounter. He dismissed us and our story. I went back to the spot after work the next day. Saw no trace of what went through there. There is a house on top of the hill. So I couldn’t go on top of the bank and look. But it was hot and dry so no footprints on the side of the road. There is a spring box on the side of the road, will a constantly running overflow pipe. That water supply on the side of the mountain maybe why he was in that area." I will also be welcoming to the show Shawn and Shawn writes “I’m from Alabama, born and raised but I moved to Utah for college. I’ve had a few different experiences in both states as well as nearby western Georgia. The Georgia experience is the one I’d like to share. I had recently moved back home to Alabama after finishing in Utah. I had been employed at a lawn maintenance company while going to college. This company is a Fortune 500 and is located in all 50 states and in every city of marginal populations. They handle fertilizer and weed control as well as aerations/dethatching, insect control and services for trees and shrubs both residential and for commercial accounts. I arranged to be transferred to a branch in Georgia as I was moving back to Alabama. My dad has recently been diagnosed with cancer and my mom needed help with the property. They live in a two-story house my dad built on a nice sized portion of land, it’s in the boonies with houses here and there but mostly it’s Alabama soft wood forests in all directions for miles and miles. As an only child helping became my torch to carry with all the animals and miscellaneous yard work not to mention driving my dad to the doctor or picking up groceries and paying the bills. This branch I transferred to in Georgia was about an hour away and only serviced areas in Georgia. One of our commercial accounts was for large tracks of Pine woods for Mead Paper. Some of these 100s of acres went specifically for paper pulp production, some equally sized portions Mead sold to furniture/construction companies but Mead still owned the actual land the trees come from and maintained the upkeep or a better way of saying that is, they hired other companies to take care of it. We had been hired by Mead to do Mauget treatments(pronounced Moe-shay or Moe-jay think French accents). A Mauget is essentially a treatment for trees that involve drilling(taping) roughly 1/12 the diameter of the trunk, equally spaced with about 6 injection points. We could inject iron if the soil was low due to the forests being reused so often, fungicides and insecticides. We were there because pine beetles had been eating up acreages of trees for the construction/furniture profits. These jobs typically take weeks to complete and had crews of 1 salesmen who was responsible for the account and 3-4 technicians. It was one of the only jobs we did where the sales rep helped with applications. State and federal laws govern how to prepare and clean up while doing tree injections. We don’t want iron capsules contaminating the soil or the poisons drifting into water supplies. We would get to the parcel of land around 7:30am with a google map loaded showing the target area. We also had the trees marked off by surveyors who would come in and designate the initial area and through out the weeks come back and mark the rest of the areas with ribbons while we were in other areas. I was the salesman of the account and met with a representative from Mead on-site 3 days before the job was to start so I could get a view of the land and work out the quickest way possible. He was running about 10 minutes late and I was in the truck calling in sales to our office. It was late February roughly 5:00 pm. I was parked on a dirt logging road, both sides of the road was going to be the area we treated. The road went down further about a half mile and ended with a cleared area for trucks to park or turn around. I got off the call and just had an uneasy feeling so I decided to drive down to the dead end and turn around so when the Mead rep got there our drivers sides would be next to each other and we wouldn’t need to get out to have a conversation. I didn’t know why but I didn’t want to get out and go for a walk inspecting woods this close to dark. When I got to the turn around I could tell this area hadn’t been used in a long time, the grass had grown up, there was no loading or logging equipment just a few boxes of ribbons left from the survey crew to use during the job. It was still light out but dark enough for the headlights to come on in the woods. I sat in the lot facing towards the road so I could drive and meet him when I saw him coming with the bed of the truck close to a mound of dirt pushed up right at the boundary of the woods behind me. I heard something crack really loud behind me off in the woods. I figured it was a limb break off a beetle infested tree. No more than 5 seconds later I heard thumping, the best way to describe it is someone running on a hard or compacted floor with extra large shoes flopping down with each step. I turned and put my right arm behind the passenger seat so I could look out the back window. I saw a single pine moving very rapidly back and worth, I could only see the top 60% of the tree because of the large mound of dirt moved to clear the area. It continued for about 10 seconds until I heard a loud series of knocks coming from the driver side off in the woods. I looked to my left and thought I saw a dark figure moving toward where the clearing becomes the road. Then I heard walking behind the truck, immediately I heard three distinctive “whoops,” I mean it was clearly a “woooowhooop, whoop whop!” that came from the same area I saw something walking. Then my truck was pelted with tiny pebbles once I left and looked at then they looked like little tiny pieces of gravel. Something was tossing pebbles from the wood line behind me. I put the truck in drive because things were really starting to freak me out and I heard the loudest yell I can ever remember. It wasn’t guttural but it was low and very reverberating as soon as it finished from behind the truck I heard what I can only describe as a shriek but it was very throaty and raspy. That was it for me, I pulled off and I was getting ready to get on the paved road to leave I saw my Mead contact parked waiting for me. He apologized for being late and we talked about the area and job. He told me flat out he hates coming to this area. I asked him why and he told me about Chris Thompkins. You might know this name if you follow Missing 411. He was a surveyor who went missing working with his crew pretty much in this same area in 2002. I hadn’t heard anything about it. He explained Chris was surveying with his crew spaced about 50 ft apart, he was last in line and just vanished. I told him about the noises I heard and he said he had experienced similar sounds back there and told me he saw a large animal run across the road on two legs and drop to all four when it made it into the woods. The first few days of the job went great but day 4 the survey guys asked us on the way in if we had taken their boxes of ribbons. I told them we wouldn’t have any use for them and I saw them in the clearing where everyone parked. He said someone must have came back there and took them because they couldn’t find them. They left for the day and said they’d come back tonight and lay some down for us to complete in the morning. We only had about 15 trees left in the area since they couldn’t mark any the rest of the day so I sent all but one technician home early. It was about 5:30pm when we finished and we’re picking up the injection caps from trees. He heard it first and asked what the hell is that!? It was the same yell I had heard about a week earlier. I told him I didn’t know and let’s finish grabbing the trash so we could leave. That’s when I heard something whiz throw the air. The cap injectors are cylinders that get a hole punched in one end and I was hearing the wind pass over it as it went through the air. I didn’t see it but we heard it. Two more where thrown and that was enough for us. We walked a pretty fast pace back to the truck and packed the truck up with the drills and spent caps. We sat and listened for about 30 minutes it was about 6:10pm. There was dozens of yells and whooping and that strange shriek. As we were leaving the cleared area we saw a large animal peering around a tree about 15 ft from the dirt road. It was rocking to our left and bobbing back behind the trunk over and over. The only knocking we heard was as we were leaving down the dirt road towards the main paved road. To cut the reading down I’ll condense the rest. The job started going slow because the survey ribbons kept getting torn off the trees and just littered the ground. We would find clumps of them wrapped together sometimes just laying in the middle of the clearing. They started using blue paint to mark and that’s when some drills started getting broken and trees we treated we would find, I mean they were pushed over. That’s the only way I can say it. Not all of them not even most of them but a good number the further back we treated. We ended up completing about 70% of the area and Mead canceled the rest. The rep would only tell me we did a great job all things considered and they were going to let the land “sit” for awhile. Ever since I always wondered about the missing surveyor and if any of us were in any real danger.”  James will be also sharing his encounter. James writes “During the winter of 1993 I shipped off to Fort Leonardwood, MO for basic training and would eventually become a transportation expert in the National Guard. Fourteen months later I would then enlist into Active Duty after attempting a semester of college. I would find myself at Fort Knox, KY. About a year and a half while in my second unit the Brigade would move out towards western Kentucky, not far from Central City to conduct a month long field exercise. This is where I would witness one of these creatures. Last one day a battle buddy and I headed for the showers which were located near the entrance of the training area. The building was located over a hundred yards from the staging area where all large vehicles were to park. A road ran from the gate in front of the building towards the staging area which then split off into two separate directions. In the fork of this intersection was located the ammo/ fuel point. The road the split off to the left separated the staging area and the fuel point. At the back end of the staging area was a row of conex containers. Behind these containers was a hill. Near the end of the containers and not too far from the fuel point was a street light. Now this row ran about a hundred yards which came to a deep raven. We parked our vehicle, a HEMMET (10 Ton cargo truck). I was a PFC (Private First Class) at the time and my battle buddy was a SPC (Specialist) so he told me to go take my shower first, which I did. When I finished and headed back it was starting to get dark. I climbed into the drivers side of the vehicle and waited for him to return. We were facing the shower building and how I was seated I was facing out the passenger window looking at the end of the containers near the street light. It didn’t light up a huge area but I could see part way up the hill and the end of the containers. After a while I noticed “someone” come walking off the side of the hill. At first I didn’t think much about it believing someone was lost while doing night time land navigation. I watched for about five minutes till the figure walked behind the containers to never be seen again. As I continued to watch somethings started to make me question what I was looking at. They were tall and broad, wasn’t carrying a weapon of any type, and wasn’t wearing any battle raddle, especially a pro-mask (gas mask). Then I noticed that their pants weren’t bloused into boots. The figure had their head down, walking back and forth as if they were looking for something. Then they walked behind the containers where the top of their head reached the top of the container and really noticed how big this individual was. I am 6’3″ and if I stand in side a conex with boots on, stand on my toes and reach up I can grab the top of the conex. During this field exercise the majority would return to the rear for the weekend while each unit kept a small crew back to watch everything. Half way through the exercise my battle buddy and I was sent to the fuel/ ammo point. I took this time to walk over to where I saw the figure to see if any tracks could be seen. I found nothing which wasn’t a surprise for several reasons; it had rain by that time and the ground was so compacted that a HUMVEE would hardly leave a track there. There was no interaction between the subject and myself. I haven’t had any other encounters either.”  

What you believe about the world at large and how you fit into the general scheme of things will determine who you are and how you relate to the world you live in. Imagine for a moment little 8-year old Sarah spinning around in front of the mirror in the new pink dress her Mom has just bought her. Excitedly, she rushes in to show her Dad. “Daddy, do you like my new party dress?” she asks breathlessly. “Sweetheart, you look like a beautiful princess!” replies Dad. That defining moment in Sarah's life will stay with her forever. With careful nurturing, Sarah will always be able to look in the mirror and see herself as a beautiful woman. On the other hand, let's look at the new recruit, Tom, who is submitting his weekly sales report to his boss. “Tom, these sales figures are appalling! What are you? Some kind of moron?” Tom returns to his desk totally deflated. His boss has just reinforced the inner voice in Tom's head that constantly tells him he is hopeless; he is a failure; he will never amount to anything. He's heard that same voice his whole life. What we believe about ourselves is encapsulated in the voice we hear in our head. And what that voice tells us is so powerful it will manifest itself in every action we take, every word we say, and every thought we think. We are who we believe ourselves to be. Change the Record Playing Although the saying has been done to death, the only way to change the record that spins around and around in your head, filling you with negativity, self-doubt and shame is to learn to believe in yourself. Sure, it's easier said than done, you say. And yes, it is easy to say “believe in yourself”. It's become the cliché for the 21st century. But who said life was easy anyway? Anything worth doing requires determination, self-discipline and struggle. Taking the easy route will not land you on easy street! What is required is a new record to play over and over in your head. Something a little more upbeat, with inspiring lyrics, a great melody and above all, soul. The great secret to manifesting anything in your life is to re-program the file in your head that says you can't have it. Nobody else but you has access to the turntable of your mind. And only you have the power to change the recording. People often ask me why I'm so happy all the time. I tell them the answer is simple: “Because I believe I'm happy and that makes it so!” It sounds too simplistic to be true, doesn't it? But it's not. Slice away the “psychobabble”, the clichés, the heartfelt fables and cheesy quotations and what remains is the simple, elegant truth: You are who you believe yourself to be. Belief in Yourself So, what if your Mom said you'd never amount to anything? Who cares if the school jock made you feel like a nerd? What you have to remember is no matter what people have said about you in the past, no matter how much you respected them or how much authority they carried, they are merely people – just like you. People with positive and negative human traits, people who sometimes feel insecure, lost, troubled or alone – just like you. And even more importantly, whatever has happened in your life to make you doubt yourself is not the “truth”. Sure, your self-talk may have taken it on board and made you believe it's “the truth”, when, in fact, it's only their “opinion”, or an expression of how they feel. So…ask yourself: who do you give consent to in your life to destroy your sense of self-worth? (And that includes you!) Use these guidelines to change that old record on the player that goes around in your head, and replace it with a melody you can play for the rest of your life. 1. Give yourself unconditional love, you deserve it. 2. Challenge yourself to be better than even you believed possible. 3. Focus on your strengths and work to eliminate or alter your weaknesses. 4. Believe you can become whoever you want to be. 5. Acknowledge that nobody has the power to make you feel inferior. 6. Determine to become a better human being every single day. 7. Acknowledge your achievements and give yourself a silent pat on the back. 8. Smile and remember that everybody has bad days. 9. Embrace the person you are and the contribution you can make to the world. 10. Have faith in yourself and believe you can make a difference. To believe is to give meaning to your life. To believe in yourself harnesses all your strengths, unlocks your potential and creates a world of endless possibilities. If you do get value from these Podcasts, please take a minute to leave me a short review. It is very much appreciated. Go to http://www.accountabilitycoach.com/Achieve.Your.Goals.Free.Gifts.Now/ and get 3 FREE gifts including a special report on 10 Power Tips for Getting Focused, Organized, and Achieving Your Goals Now. Join the Silver Inner Circle (IT'S FREE) and receive 10% off on all products and services in addition to having access to many assessments and complimentary resources so you can begin achieving your goals in the timeframe you want, so you can have the life you desire. Get started today by going to https://www.accountabilitycoach.com/coaching-store/inner-circle-store/ and Join the FREE Silver Inner Circle. Aim for what you want each and every day! 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What excitement will 2019 bring? One step closer to the heat death of the universe for sure but in relation to video games there are some more immediate things to look forward to. All this AND MORE™! Games discussed: Dreams, Beat Saber, Meditations, Feudal Alloy, Grab Lab, Resident Evil 2, The Messenger, Tetris Effect, After Party, Anthem, Atlas, Atomic Heart, OOblets, Phoenix Point, Far Cry: New Dawn, The Outer Wilds, The Outer Worlds, The Stanley Parable: Ultra Deluxe Join us on Discord: discord.eightandahalfbit.com Follow us on twitter! Eight and a Half Bit: @8AndAHalfBit James: @JamesBowling Paul: @MrParoxysm    

A man told his workmate excitedly...

July is one of my favorite months and it marks the midpoint of 2016. Half-year resolutions are just as important as New Year's resolutions, therefore, it's time to thoughtfully plan some new goals. Excitedly create memories, travel, and improve your resume while you are doing it. Thank you for all of the mix suggestions! Snap: dj.rolemodel

1 - Cruz was awesome at da GOP debate, then he got pantsed. 2 - 3 little girls do a fun freedom song to open Trump songs; Woman goes viral for excitedly telling tale of escaping apartment fire. 3 - The News with Marshall Phillips. 4 - Some ex-cable news guy now has a show on the Internets.