Podcasts about fame school

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 2, 2023 49:26

[some rehashings] I don't know how to write this scene, Lol. SHIA LABEOUFF Uh oh. That's not right. Don' google it. I know, huh. Uhh. It's okay. I got this. SHIA LaBeouf* lol Worst last name ever Anyway SHIA LABEOUF JUST DO IT. Ok. The former child stars of the LATE 90's EARLY 2000's era Lol, how do you write something like this idk. Here: A STRANGE CULT has gathered, a large tabernacle-like choir chanting ceremoniously, cloaked beneath the long robes and thick plumes of smoke, hidden deep within the confines of a candlelit cavern, adorned with mystifying and mysterious objects. Yeah, that does it. Lol. Don't put me around famous people, guys. I'm not right. Especially ones I like. Kesha blew my mind like 4 years ago and it still keeps me up at night. I'm telling you. It's not right. Just write. The Chanting reaches it's peak and comes to a close, as a– Wait. What. Economically speaking Uh huh. How much money is it going to take to get all of these people in a room together at one time. A lot. We can do cut takes. No cut takes! WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. YOU'RE INVITED Ooh. what's this. COME TO THE DARK SIDE WE HAVE COOKIES. DUMMMMMMB. This is reckless. Stop doing whippets. No. What? Why not. Hoes Love Whippets. CARRYING ON. Josh– I SAID, CARRYING ON. Why Does Josh Peck talk in all caps? Typecasting. AnYwAyS So– is she– ‘The Forgotten One' CULT, UNANIMOUSLY “The Forgotten One” The shadowy figure removes his hood to reveal himself as DRAKE BELL (gasp) Yeah, she's one of us. DUDE. You're not supposed to take your hood off! It's hot under here: SO! Everything's on fire and I had to run around and get cupcakes! –And that's where we left off: JOSH PECK also removes his hood, revealing himself to the audience. Woah. what episode of Drake and Josh is THIS A new one. No fucking way. JOSH PECK WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. (From The Crowd) Aw, what–there's no cookies? (Crowd disapproval; everyone deflates and begins taking off their hoods and cloaks, clamoring.) THE DISNEY CHANNEL CIRCLE OF STARS Enter Dramatically through every possible entrance, much like the cast of a critically-acclaimed Broadway musical. Which Broadway musical? Uh. One where the cast enters through the aisle. Duh. Ugh, these guys. Who invited them? I did. For what? That was the whole point. After a large MUSIC/DANCE number. Lol Hold the phone What How are we gonna get ALL THESE MOTHERFUCKERS CUT TAKES NO CUT TAKES. BRO. HM. IGOTIT, SUPACREE wakes up at a mysterious RAVE. Oh shit. Throw a party. Celebrities loooooooove parties. That's all they do. … … … Yeah–that too, but we don't like to think about that. DISNEY. I'll take it. SOLD. Wait, this is on Disney? Or one of it's subsidiaries, none of which are NICKELODEON. We'll take it. SOLD. Wait. What. You Auctioned Off The Festival Project on The Black Market? Yeah. WHY? I don't know. Something about cookies. At the height of the chaos, SUPACREE strolls in. Ah shit, cupcakes! I love these. THE FORGOTTEN ONE. Are these Vegan? (gasps and whispers, whippets in the back) Pause. OKay. Deep thought process collison Go on… Either someone's a genius and set this whole thing up That's making sense Or Hollywood just fucks people up enough that Whippets. I need more whippets. For what? Whippets. Everyone's on drugs. oh golly, everyone's fucked up. Orrrr, orr–they're just having fun. Should I be worried? Nah. … … … Coincidences don't exist. JOSH PECK A COINCIDENCE THIS IS NOT. How are you this deep in my consciousness. Maybe I'm Not. Oh yeah, I watched The Wackness. Oh yeah, huh. Fuck. So wait. Everyone's just real hot– Money's not a problem, And everyone's on drugs. Yeah. Sign me up! Okay, You're up. Excuse me, I'm what? You're on Go. Uhhh— Just…talk. This is stalking. Don't stop writing OMG WHAT'S IN THE DUFFEL BAG . What's in the pinata? This is NOT THAT SHOW. Of Course it is. It's not. THIS IS AAAAAAALL THAT THIS iS AAAAALLL THAAAAAAT. yeah. HOW MUCH IS THIS GONNA COST??? Can we please have a stereotypically jewish accountant for this project? On it. Rodger. What's up, guys. Uh. These are good. … … … Can you see us? Yeah. All of us. I think so. Especially Amanda Bynes. Hey, AMAND BYNES —she KNOWS who I AM. Duh. WOO. [takes a whippet] Wow. How are you not freaking out?! I have cupcakes. Fiar. Besides, it's just a dream. What? I'm dreaming. None of this is real. Uh–it's not a dream. Maybe multiple dreams. Ew. Don't be gross. I can be gross. It's my dream. You don't understand. No, you don't understand. Because you're in my dream; But i'm dreaming. I'll probably just wake up in a couple of minutes when I'm finished with this cupcake…and really want cupcakes. How did you even get here?! What reality do you think this is? It's not reality. IT iS–REALITY. THIS IS REAL. FLASHBACK: HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA 2010 Woah, hold the phone. Yes, I'll hold. Nothing really matters anymore, No more words, now Try to lay down Try to phaseout my Drastic, disasterful thoughts With croissants And the words to a song, Or a new work of art in The Festival Project I'm not God, yet; I'm only his daughter A doctor, I work at the smokeshop Look, go back to Hollywood– Now you're a subject. Went to Fame School, But just started fame college I'll need that doctorate to call Drake and Josh up –Honestly, don't come back. I filled up half a chapter (Don't want your autograph) I wrote a paragraph after, 10 songs, and wanted a cocktail For watching you Buy your own canister Jesus Almighty And Kevin McCallister Candidly answer a Call from the darkness: “Heaven Help Hollywood, Please, Heaven Help Us.” [The Festival Project] [When it] Turns out, The bottom of your heart Was the tip of the Ice Berg And the whole ship has [s]unk[en], [&] I[t]'s probably ice cold At the bottom of the ocean; I'll tell you where i'm from Why, I'll tell you anything for About one dollar Turns out, I've already got one eye on you; One eye'd sad heart I should probably roll out my art on you [I probably should not] One man bought a kiss, Another, a whole night from her– One man bought a whole farm The other, a Whole Foods Market –and you can't even franchise those Amazon's got a monopoly We were playing for corners of earth, All i got was some kandi, Subscriptions to candidly, Actually, I really liked the tree trial (I think i'll wait a week, sorry) When it turns out The world that you wanted Was actually hours already The dollar you got Was also borrowed And the money they wanted and got Was just actually stolen from someone else They bought all the food up And sold it for profits I promise this avocado Once costs nothing at all But you wanted that car for your daughter She's got a mercedes and don't even drive it My mom, on my honor Of all the garages in Lost Lands, I promise the owner of it was The first to go last, And the last to come home Now he's on his own alter And also the worshiper; How do you go back? Oh, you don't Oh you don't Oh, you don't wanna know that But i was of course, All of your rock bottoms It's bottoms and tops, and We don't let the top fall over, We're counting up crumbs And this muffin costs $24 dollars Pour a whole bottle of coconut water out on the sidewalks For the dead homies Not dead in the general sense But just in the head, the heart, And the soul The homeless are happier at McDonalds Than asking at crossroads and crosswalks For dollars I'd rather spend elsewhere I'll avoid the power struggle at operations for about 18 dollars and 56 sense (Please, keep the pennies) I'm feeling around in my 6th sense that there's Something indecent, or decadent Whichever it is Cause i'm better of with the memory of it Than actually dragging it in. –I'm a cat again. Ouch. Shut up. It HURTS. Of course it hurts, you just had heart surgery without any anistetics. YEah, but to be fair–that was a lot of acid. Yes, but lucily* for you– –or, for him– Lucily for us, there's no lethal amount of acid. –Ouch– –Shut up. That we know of. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

[[NSFW.]] {Enter The Multiverse}

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 2, 2023 49:26

[some rehashings] I don't know how to write this scene, Lol. SHIA LABEOUFF Uh oh. That's not right. Don' google it. I know, huh. Uhh. It's okay. I got this. SHIA LaBeouf* lol Worst last name ever Anyway SHIA LABEOUF JUST DO IT. Ok. The former child stars of the LATE 90's EARLY 2000's era Lol, how do you write something like this idk. Here: A STRANGE CULT has gathered, a large tabernacle-like choir chanting ceremoniously, cloaked beneath the long robes and thick plumes of smoke, hidden deep within the confines of a candlelit cavern, adorned with mystifying and mysterious objects. Yeah, that does it. Lol. Don't put me around famous people, guys. I'm not right. Especially ones I like. Kesha blew my mind like 4 years ago and it still keeps me up at night. I'm telling you. It's not right. Just write. The Chanting reaches it's peak and comes to a close, as a– Wait. What. Economically speaking Uh huh. How much money is it going to take to get all of these people in a room together at one time. A lot. We can do cut takes. No cut takes! WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. YOU'RE INVITED Ooh. what's this. COME TO THE DARK SIDE WE HAVE COOKIES. DUMMMMMMB. This is reckless. Stop doing whippets. No. What? Why not. Hoes Love Whippets. CARRYING ON. Josh– I SAID, CARRYING ON. Why Does Josh Peck talk in all caps? Typecasting. AnYwAyS So– is she– ‘The Forgotten One' CULT, UNANIMOUSLY “The Forgotten One” The shadowy figure removes his hood to reveal himself as DRAKE BELL (gasp) Yeah, she's one of us. DUDE. You're not supposed to take your hood off! It's hot under here: SO! Everything's on fire and I had to run around and get cupcakes! –And that's where we left off: JOSH PECK also removes his hood, revealing himself to the audience. Woah. what episode of Drake and Josh is THIS A new one. No fucking way. JOSH PECK WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. (From The Crowd) Aw, what–there's no cookies? (Crowd disapproval; everyone deflates and begins taking off their hoods and cloaks, clamoring.) THE DISNEY CHANNEL CIRCLE OF STARS Enter Dramatically through every possible entrance, much like the cast of a critically-acclaimed Broadway musical. Which Broadway musical? Uh. One where the cast enters through the aisle. Duh. Ugh, these guys. Who invited them? I did. For what? That was the whole point. After a large MUSIC/DANCE number. Lol Hold the phone What How are we gonna get ALL THESE MOTHERFUCKERS CUT TAKES NO CUT TAKES. BRO. HM. IGOTIT, SUPACREE wakes up at a mysterious RAVE. Oh shit. Throw a party. Celebrities loooooooove parties. That's all they do. … … … Yeah–that too, but we don't like to think about that. DISNEY. I'll take it. SOLD. Wait, this is on Disney? Or one of it's subsidiaries, none of which are NICKELODEON. We'll take it. SOLD. Wait. What. You Auctioned Off The Festival Project on The Black Market? Yeah. WHY? I don't know. Something about cookies. At the height of the chaos, SUPACREE strolls in. Ah shit, cupcakes! I love these. THE FORGOTTEN ONE. Are these Vegan? (gasps and whispers, whippets in the back) Pause. OKay. Deep thought process collison Go on… Either someone's a genius and set this whole thing up That's making sense Or Hollywood just fucks people up enough that Whippets. I need more whippets. For what? Whippets. Everyone's on drugs. oh golly, everyone's fucked up. Orrrr, orr–they're just having fun. Should I be worried? Nah. … … … Coincidences don't exist. JOSH PECK A COINCIDENCE THIS IS NOT. How are you this deep in my consciousness. Maybe I'm Not. Oh yeah, I watched The Wackness. Oh yeah, huh. Fuck. So wait. Everyone's just real hot– Money's not a problem, And everyone's on drugs. Yeah. Sign me up! Okay, You're up. Excuse me, I'm what? You're on Go. Uhhh— Just…talk. This is stalking. Don't stop writing OMG WHAT'S IN THE DUFFEL BAG . What's in the pinata? This is NOT THAT SHOW. Of Course it is. It's not. THIS IS AAAAAAALL THAT THIS iS AAAAALLL THAAAAAAT. yeah. HOW MUCH IS THIS GONNA COST??? Can we please have a stereotypically jewish accountant for this project? On it. Rodger. What's up, guys. Uh. These are good. … … … Can you see us? Yeah. All of us. I think so. Especially Amanda Bynes. Hey, AMAND BYNES —she KNOWS who I AM. Duh. WOO. [takes a whippet] Wow. How are you not freaking out?! I have cupcakes. Fiar. Besides, it's just a dream. What? I'm dreaming. None of this is real. Uh–it's not a dream. Maybe multiple dreams. Ew. Don't be gross. I can be gross. It's my dream. You don't understand. No, you don't understand. Because you're in my dream; But i'm dreaming. I'll probably just wake up in a couple of minutes when I'm finished with this cupcake…and really want cupcakes. How did you even get here?! What reality do you think this is? It's not reality. IT iS–REALITY. THIS IS REAL. FLASHBACK: HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA 2010 Woah, hold the phone. Yes, I'll hold. Nothing really matters anymore, No more words, now Try to lay down Try to phaseout my Drastic, disasterful thoughts With croissants And the words to a song, Or a new work of art in The Festival Project I'm not God, yet; I'm only his daughter A doctor, I work at the smokeshop Look, go back to Hollywood– Now you're a subject. Went to Fame School, But just started fame college I'll need that doctorate to call Drake and Josh up –Honestly, don't come back. I filled up half a chapter (Don't want your autograph) I wrote a paragraph after, 10 songs, and wanted a cocktail For watching you Buy your own canister Jesus Almighty And Kevin McCallister Candidly answer a Call from the darkness: “Heaven Help Hollywood, Please, Heaven Help Us.” [The Festival Project] [When it] Turns out, The bottom of your heart Was the tip of the Ice Berg And the whole ship has [s]unk[en], [&] I[t]'s probably ice cold At the bottom of the ocean; I'll tell you where i'm from Why, I'll tell you anything for About one dollar Turns out, I've already got one eye on you; One eye'd sad heart I should probably roll out my art on you [I probably should not] One man bought a kiss, Another, a whole night from her– One man bought a whole farm The other, a Whole Foods Market –and you can't even franchise those Amazon's got a monopoly We were playing for corners of earth, All i got was some kandi, Subscriptions to candidly, Actually, I really liked the tree trial (I think i'll wait a week, sorry) When it turns out The world that you wanted Was actually hours already The dollar you got Was also borrowed And the money they wanted and got Was just actually stolen from someone else They bought all the food up And sold it for profits I promise this avocado Once costs nothing at all But you wanted that car for your daughter She's got a mercedes and don't even drive it My mom, on my honor Of all the garages in Lost Lands, I promise the owner of it was The first to go last, And the last to come home Now he's on his own alter And also the worshiper; How do you go back? Oh, you don't Oh you don't Oh, you don't wanna know that But i was of course, All of your rock bottoms It's bottoms and tops, and We don't let the top fall over, We're counting up crumbs And this muffin costs $24 dollars Pour a whole bottle of coconut water out on the sidewalks For the dead homies Not dead in the general sense But just in the head, the heart, And the soul The homeless are happier at McDonalds Than asking at crossroads and crosswalks For dollars I'd rather spend elsewhere I'll avoid the power struggle at operations for about 18 dollars and 56 sense (Please, keep the pennies) I'm feeling around in my 6th sense that there's Something indecent, or decadent Whichever it is Cause i'm better of with the memory of it Than actually dragging it in. –I'm a cat again. Ouch. Shut up. It HURTS. Of course it hurts, you just had heart surgery without any anistetics. YEah, but to be fair–that was a lot of acid. Yes, but lucily* for you– –or, for him– Lucily for us, there's no lethal amount of acid. –Ouch– –Shut up. That we know of. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

[[NSFW.]] {Enter The Multiverse}

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 2, 2023 49:26

[some rehashings] I don't know how to write this scene, Lol. SHIA LABEOUFF Uh oh. That's not right. Don' google it. I know, huh. Uhh. It's okay. I got this. SHIA LaBeouf* lol Worst last name ever Anyway SHIA LABEOUF JUST DO IT. Ok. The former child stars of the LATE 90's EARLY 2000's era Lol, how do you write something like this idk. Here: A STRANGE CULT has gathered, a large tabernacle-like choir chanting ceremoniously, cloaked beneath the long robes and thick plumes of smoke, hidden deep within the confines of a candlelit cavern, adorned with mystifying and mysterious objects. Yeah, that does it. Lol. Don't put me around famous people, guys. I'm not right. Especially ones I like. Kesha blew my mind like 4 years ago and it still keeps me up at night. I'm telling you. It's not right. Just write. The Chanting reaches it's peak and comes to a close, as a– Wait. What. Economically speaking Uh huh. How much money is it going to take to get all of these people in a room together at one time. A lot. We can do cut takes. No cut takes! WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. YOU'RE INVITED Ooh. what's this. COME TO THE DARK SIDE WE HAVE COOKIES. DUMMMMMMB. This is reckless. Stop doing whippets. No. What? Why not. Hoes Love Whippets. CARRYING ON. Josh– I SAID, CARRYING ON. Why Does Josh Peck talk in all caps? Typecasting. AnYwAyS So– is she– ‘The Forgotten One' CULT, UNANIMOUSLY “The Forgotten One” The shadowy figure removes his hood to reveal himself as DRAKE BELL (gasp) Yeah, she's one of us. DUDE. You're not supposed to take your hood off! It's hot under here: SO! Everything's on fire and I had to run around and get cupcakes! –And that's where we left off: JOSH PECK also removes his hood, revealing himself to the audience. Woah. what episode of Drake and Josh is THIS A new one. No fucking way. JOSH PECK WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. (From The Crowd) Aw, what–there's no cookies? (Crowd disapproval; everyone deflates and begins taking off their hoods and cloaks, clamoring.) THE DISNEY CHANNEL CIRCLE OF STARS Enter Dramatically through every possible entrance, much like the cast of a critically-acclaimed Broadway musical. Which Broadway musical? Uh. One where the cast enters through the aisle. Duh. Ugh, these guys. Who invited them? I did. For what? That was the whole point. After a large MUSIC/DANCE number. Lol Hold the phone What How are we gonna get ALL THESE MOTHERFUCKERS CUT TAKES NO CUT TAKES. BRO. HM. IGOTIT, SUPACREE wakes up at a mysterious RAVE. Oh shit. Throw a party. Celebrities loooooooove parties. That's all they do. … … … Yeah–that too, but we don't like to think about that. DISNEY. I'll take it. SOLD. Wait, this is on Disney? Or one of it's subsidiaries, none of which are NICKELODEON. We'll take it. SOLD. Wait. What. You Auctioned Off The Festival Project on The Black Market? Yeah. WHY? I don't know. Something about cookies. At the height of the chaos, SUPACREE strolls in. Ah shit, cupcakes! I love these. THE FORGOTTEN ONE. Are these Vegan? (gasps and whispers, whippets in the back) Pause. OKay. Deep thought process collison Go on… Either someone's a genius and set this whole thing up That's making sense Or Hollywood just fucks people up enough that Whippets. I need more whippets. For what? Whippets. Everyone's on drugs. oh golly, everyone's fucked up. Orrrr, orr–they're just having fun. Should I be worried? Nah. … … … Coincidences don't exist. JOSH PECK A COINCIDENCE THIS IS NOT. How are you this deep in my consciousness. Maybe I'm Not. Oh yeah, I watched The Wackness. Oh yeah, huh. Fuck. So wait. Everyone's just real hot– Money's not a problem, And everyone's on drugs. Yeah. Sign me up! Okay, You're up. Excuse me, I'm what? You're on Go. Uhhh— Just…talk. This is stalking. Don't stop writing OMG WHAT'S IN THE DUFFEL BAG . What's in the pinata? This is NOT THAT SHOW. Of Course it is. It's not. THIS IS AAAAAAALL THAT THIS iS AAAAALLL THAAAAAAT. yeah. HOW MUCH IS THIS GONNA COST??? Can we please have a stereotypically jewish accountant for this project? On it. Rodger. What's up, guys. Uh. These are good. … … … Can you see us? Yeah. All of us. I think so. Especially Amanda Bynes. Hey, AMAND BYNES —she KNOWS who I AM. Duh. WOO. [takes a whippet] Wow. How are you not freaking out?! I have cupcakes. Fiar. Besides, it's just a dream. What? I'm dreaming. None of this is real. Uh–it's not a dream. Maybe multiple dreams. Ew. Don't be gross. I can be gross. It's my dream. You don't understand. No, you don't understand. Because you're in my dream; But i'm dreaming. I'll probably just wake up in a couple of minutes when I'm finished with this cupcake…and really want cupcakes. How did you even get here?! What reality do you think this is? It's not reality. IT iS–REALITY. THIS IS REAL. FLASHBACK: HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA 2010 Woah, hold the phone. Yes, I'll hold. Nothing really matters anymore, No more words, now Try to lay down Try to phaseout my Drastic, disasterful thoughts With croissants And the words to a song, Or a new work of art in The Festival Project I'm not God, yet; I'm only his daughter A doctor, I work at the smokeshop Look, go back to Hollywood– Now you're a subject. Went to Fame School, But just started fame college I'll need that doctorate to call Drake and Josh up –Honestly, don't come back. I filled up half a chapter (Don't want your autograph) I wrote a paragraph after, 10 songs, and wanted a cocktail For watching you Buy your own canister Jesus Almighty And Kevin McCallister Candidly answer a Call from the darkness: “Heaven Help Hollywood, Please, Heaven Help Us.” [The Festival Project] [When it] Turns out, The bottom of your heart Was the tip of the Ice Berg And the whole ship has [s]unk[en], [&] I[t]'s probably ice cold At the bottom of the ocean; I'll tell you where i'm from Why, I'll tell you anything for About one dollar Turns out, I've already got one eye on you; One eye'd sad heart I should probably roll out my art on you [I probably should not] One man bought a kiss, Another, a whole night from her– One man bought a whole farm The other, a Whole Foods Market –and you can't even franchise those Amazon's got a monopoly We were playing for corners of earth, All i got was some kandi, Subscriptions to candidly, Actually, I really liked the tree trial (I think i'll wait a week, sorry) When it turns out The world that you wanted Was actually hours already The dollar you got Was also borrowed And the money they wanted and got Was just actually stolen from someone else They bought all the food up And sold it for profits I promise this avocado Once costs nothing at all But you wanted that car for your daughter She's got a mercedes and don't even drive it My mom, on my honor Of all the garages in Lost Lands, I promise the owner of it was The first to go last, And the last to come home Now he's on his own alter And also the worshiper; How do you go back? Oh, you don't Oh you don't Oh, you don't wanna know that But i was of course, All of your rock bottoms It's bottoms and tops, and We don't let the top fall over, We're counting up crumbs And this muffin costs $24 dollars Pour a whole bottle of coconut water out on the sidewalks For the dead homies Not dead in the general sense But just in the head, the heart, And the soul The homeless are happier at McDonalds Than asking at crossroads and crosswalks For dollars I'd rather spend elsewhere I'll avoid the power struggle at operations for about 18 dollars and 56 sense (Please, keep the pennies) I'm feeling around in my 6th sense that there's Something indecent, or decadent Whichever it is Cause i'm better of with the memory of it Than actually dragging it in. –I'm a cat again. Ouch. Shut up. It HURTS. Of course it hurts, you just had heart surgery without any anistetics. YEah, but to be fair–that was a lot of acid. Yes, but lucily* for you– –or, for him– Lucily for us, there's no lethal amount of acid. –Ouch– –Shut up. That we know of. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

3Haunted: International Horror Films II

3Haunted Podcast

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 30, 2023 72:36

What's up ghouls, gals, and all of our horror movie lovers around the world! Grab your passports, because in today's episode, we are once again going international. That's right, we are bringing to you international horror films part 2! Now you know we cannot do an international horror without special guest, Robb Moreira. So make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position as we take off into the world of international horror.Robb is a successful currently working Voice Over Talent and Coach who specializes in both Spanish and English commercial work. With over a decade of acting training through the Fame School of the Arts and the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, his acting pursuits in theater took him to the world of voice over, where being bilingual has truly paid off for he and his clients. Robb is also an avid horror fan with a special love for international horror films.Follow us on all of our social media platforms:InstagramFacebookTikTok

english coach spanish arts horror horror movies american academy robb horror films dramatic arts voice over talent international horror fame school robb moreira

[Across The Universe + A Star Is Born} (A Theatrical Production) - Enter The Multiverse

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 27, 2023 99:47

Madonna wants to be a movie star, huh Well I just want to be Madonna Maybe we could help each other out, huh Maybe that's why God's been calling out Madonna, Madonna You want it, i got it Just call up the number She's listed as “A Nobody” So far, so I hope you know the code The extension is 666 If you get disconnected Just call back And your call will be answered In the order it was Received Kaskade made two of my favorite songs of all time ever. One at the very begginning of his career… And one well—- SEATTLE WASHINGTON, 2021 Wherever he was a couple years ago. Who knows, man. Fucking time travelers. Present day. JAMAICA, QUEENS, NEW YORK. Vs. Add more weight. DUFF VS *** WHAT, I have to fight MYSELF. You've been fighting yourself the whole time! Shut the fuck up, Kaskade! Language. Shove it! *eats popcorn obnoxiously* Ugh. Fuck me, man. Whatever. I'm in the winners circle. SAD NEIL DEGRASSE TYSON. Woah: uh oh. What happened. Still a genius. SAD NEIL DEGRASSE TYSON has no formal education. Oh no. However, He sees multitudes of equations as synergetic values swirling in his mind as he rides the bus , appearing to be in a mindless daze, however, still a genius, trapped in the confines of his own mind, stuck at a dead-end job. Oh no. That is bad. Sup Neil deGrasse Tyson! *bully smacks pizza to the ground* Ugh. Sucks to suck. Laaaagh! Ugh. *sighs deeply, attempts to pick up pizza* Birds swarm the pizza, and a passerby steps on it* This brings a single, aolitary tear to his eye. Suddenly, the hunger struck me. MEANWHILE, at the eye of NOWHERE, whereas in the multiverse Jamaica, Queens resides—AT BLINK FITNESS. Father said, Skrillex (Mixed—Have a seat) [Blū fails to raise the bench press] V.O. Or maybe it was the Skrillex. *** Help. Please help. THE GODS Lol. [a group of men rush to blu's aide—the entire gym, all men besides the workers, erupt into laughter. “The Games of The Gods” Do you ever finish these episodes? Nope. Meanwhile, Dillon Francis is the biggest dick ever. Ahem. I said IS, not HAS. You don't know me. Shut up, Mrs.pancakes. That joke is so 2013. I told you, already—- PICKLE RICK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH *falling* Hey look, a pickle. Oh. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. You know what! I like you! Oh! That sucks! Can you not say things like that?! Things like what?! Things like me?! I thought you liked me! I do—just— What?! What Dillon Francis?! Try to remember this is all just a dream. A what?! Fuck you! I'm going to count backwards from three— Backwards for what? Three What Two What the fuck? -One. Lightning strikes— he claps his hands in time with the thunderclap—Sunni Blu immediately falls asleep—he watches them with a meniacal look in his eye, whispering into their ear, snapping one time— DILLON FRANCIS I'm going to count to three: when I clap my hands you'll wake up from this dream and into another—this world is my world— and in my world, from now on, whenever you hear the sound of a clap, you will remember who you are; and you will remember the sound of my voice. [He claps—Sunni Blū remains asleep in this reality—but suddenly, in a cross-dimensional parallel, CC wakes up in bed, holding instead of a handgun, a banana—startled and still appearing to be soaking wet, though drenched in sweat rather than rain, she draws the banana outward, tumbling out of bed and looking over her shoulder, cursing.] GODDDAMIT IT, DILLON FRANCIS. Cut back t Dillon Francis drags Sunni Blu's body into a Holda Civic Why a Honda civic Seems like a regular car Why not Nissan. Could be a Nissan So just make it a Nissan. Ok. [in the closest parallalell dimension, it is a Nissan.] Nice. (Shrugs) Anything but a Subaru. [being Skrillex] SKRILLEx SUBARRUUUUUUUUUUU—- *zoom* *splrSH* (All wet) Whatthefuck. Meanwhile, Did it work? Is she here? Well, not yet… Suddenly, a blue dot appears on the map. Bingo. YO. we did it. Suddenly, the dot turns from blue to red. Wait, what happened. I don't know Suddenly, the red dot turns purple. What the fuck is that. The dot then splits into two dots What. I dunno. I've never seen this before The two dots each split into two dots—now there are four dots—a green, a blue, a red, and a yellow dot—they begin to blink and swirl in a mesmerizing pattern, before dissipating and dissappearing entirely. The fuck! I don't know! Dude, do something. Do WHAT. Something! This has no logical fucking explaination whatsoever. The screen goes black. The map dissappears. What happened. We got hacked?! That's IMPOSSIBLE. It's not impossible It IS impossible. It's the most impossible impossibility fucking EVER. Okay, well— Okay well?! I don't know!!! The screen returns—the map is blank—the four dots reappear, each changing in color sequences and shapes quickly and drastically, dancing and swirling around the screen—the map reappears, the dots each spread to a separate corner of the map: north east south and west— the trails of the colors spelling out in the center of the map M A G I C I S R E A L, Then exploding into candy coated sparkles and confetti. What the fuck. *exasperated, under breath* It's fucking…Dillon Francis. What?! ITS FUCKING GODDAMN DILLON FRANCIS. FUCK! WHAT, No WAY. AAAAAGAGGGHHHHHHHHH. *throws shit, all mad* Careful! What's it MATTER!? …still… *loses shit* As he exits the base and enters his living room, he opens the outer door to find that l the entire living room is covered in candy coated confetti and sparkles; he slips into a puddle of strange gellatenous goo. UHMPH. The other two hackers come running o it from the lair, one also slipping in the goo, and the other stopping short at the door, in awe of the disaster. Ow! What the fuck! Whaaaaaaaaaa…… FUCKING—FUCK!! On a speeding bullet to nowhere, Comb out my hair for a moped Or hope of a slow rush to Some sorry apartment I pour all my art into Home, where the heart is It's cold, but she needs the attention— Just as much as I need the move that she gets from it anyway Envy in outfits, Dismissal of seasonal effective— A positive adjustment suggests that The entrance of pumpkin spiced Knitted sweaters and puffed jackets Are just as perhaps as attractive in essence As nakedness, To those in possession of Personality Then, something suggests As progressed in possessions, The payment was lovelessness Entering sequence SHIT! What?! is it Skrillex?! [Loading semi-automatic rave weapon] Can't be too sure… Yo. Yo. Madonna just walked in with Bob Saget. Bob Saget is dead. I KNOW THAT. YO. And they're about to do a B2B. That's WILD. Lol where is this party. Bag as a basket, Has to match the boots, hasn't it? Suede, like encantmemts, Enchanted, the spider, Still, she works hard at it (Hard as Manhattan) Masterful hat, my dear Happened to stand at the platform, Just long enough to— *SLAM* Got ‘em. Fuck. Alright, Okay. So it's dark, right? Yeah. Ow watch this. ^immensely bright shiny light* WOW. You see that? YEAH. That's your light. WOW. Yeah, okay, now turn it off. HOW? That's right, you don't know how. NO! I DONT. Try to remember. Remember what. How to turn it off. Why?! It's AWESOME. Yeah, turn it off. I don't know how. Try to remember. I—remember what. Turn it— I don't know how to do that. Well, I need you to try. What? What for?! -*huge scary monster appears out of darkness WOAH. That's what for. *MONSTER IS SCARY* OH. Yeah. *SCARY MONSTER ROAR* Ugh. With a snap, they instantly CHARGE into THE VOID. *heavy sigh* Dang. *nods* You see, that thing— *very scary monster* And other things like it— *vampires* *demons* *zombies* *racists* Eat light. But I make light. Exactly. So why is that a problem. Because. These dark things can't be satisfied— they'll take all of your light, until there's nothing left Oh... And worse, There are far worse things— Worse than that? Far worse. Things that will not only devour your light, but absorb you, and make you into a ravenous darkness—entrapped within the deepest realms of the outer worlds—a nothingness in which light cannot dwell—where no light can penetrate—no light is known—and you become such darkness so how multidimensional is she. Like, way multidimensional. Way, multidimensional, dude. I don't know if you want to take this on. I like a challengeS This is beyond a challenge, dude. This is, like— This could be career suicide. DILLON FRANCIS has a flashback to the most miserable moment in his career. …I'm willing to risk that. You're fucking crazy, man. Crazy is good. Let's do it. He slaps the table, cracks open a bottle of water and leaves, seeming bizzarely chipper. …he's fucking insane. *shrugs* Pays my bills. Yeah, I guess. Gh0st. What's all this supposed to mean. I thought we were getting fat. I wasn't serious. Neither was I. We were each other's imaginary friends. What's that, a coping mechanism? Almost. What's that, a calling card? Almost. Hijacking Beyoncé. Gold. I think the point I was making is I can't even touch Beyoncé. Nobody touches Beyoncé. Except Beyoncé. Well, maybe Jay-Z. Like I said. JAY-Z is also BEYONCÉ. Hah. Nice. Everything is Every— Shut up. Why are you in GA. I'm not gonna pay for a front row ticket to Fangirl Beyoncé. I thought you were fangirling me. Somebody has to. Japanese Lady badly singing on the train Should I record it? Tempting, but—I'll just keep this moment to myself. [literally the star of a movie] (At least I tried. ) Besides, I want to know what she's saying. How are you ever gonna know what she's saying. Meanwhile, at Ultra Japan SKRILLEX (Being Skrillex) Ugh. MEANWHRHIRLE. PASQUALLE ROTELLA is the head of the EDMADFIA Ok. Is that Electronic Dance Mafia Fuxk, now I want Pop-Tarts. Or Electronic Daisy Mafia PORQUE NO LAS DOS. Fuck, or I want tacos! THE ELECTRONIC DANCE MAFIA Wearing sleek black mysteriously dark attire, only ever so rarely accented by red as to notate the higher ranks of the most organized *possibly criminal* organization Wait, does the mafia still exist? Yes. Yes it does m. Ever. Oh wow. Yeah: THE ELECTRINIC DAISY MAFIA These flamboyant motherfuckers dress in purple with accents of pink, electric blue, and neon shades of yellow, green, and orange—but are highly mysterious, though almost obnoxiously Lol. This bitch is literally singing on the train. Wasn't that you just earlier? I— EARLIER, (but not that part:) She seems to have taken a sudden interest in the occult. [literally battling demons] This isn't SUDDEN. That is interesting. [in agreement and solidarity] Open the doors. The thing that was sudden, was that I started to notice that something about my voice changed the energy in any room, depending on the way I used it—it became important to notate exactly how the energy changed, and also— There she is. What kind of people arrived at the sound of my voice— Let's go. Who was I calling to. What was the nature of this force, and Your HIghness. Uh, okay. Why were they following me? Alright, I'm signing off. No, not yet... Not yet? Dude— It's not time. What is time?! *sighs* You pushed it at Beyoncé. Now who's fangirling. NOBODY. Yeah, except BEYONCÉ. BEYONCÉ approached ME. EXACTLY MY POINT. You and points. Explains the tattoos. You're one to talk. Nah, not really. I'm signing off. *sighs frustratedly* (whispered) HART. The bright light which once illumated the space between them fades out. Darkness. It is a simple room, where the two archangels meet to discuss their ongoing journey through the inner and outer worlds—they are, in essence, twin flames, perhaps, as to be described as one soul, split to display spectrums of opposite, which together signify balance— and apart exemplify chaos, confusion, and dissasemblance; imbalance, impurity, and unsynchronistic—not yet true Gods but dieties of a higher existence, escaping often between realms and plains to telepathically banter in a battle of wits; they are alike because they are one another—they are seperate because in order to fulfill all duties of the higher calling, they must remain as opposites until the day is called that they must forge their powers for the betterment of humanity, and become as one. A dark blue couch illuminated by a bright light, unseen but acting as the fourth wall, an old TV screen which displays a silent staic. c o l o r s Fuck, where is SUPACREE. Oh, she's dead. I know that. Then why did you ask. Because she should be here. Are you serious? I know she's here. She's not. She's dead. I know that: Then why'd you— THIS Is the land of the dead. This is not. What—of course it is. It is not, Yes it is! I just died this morning. Hah. Okay. “Okay?” Yeah: “Okay.” What's that mean? It means “okay” “Okay?!” “Okay!” [beat] *sighs frustratedly* Look, you said “SUPACREE”, right? Yes. And you just died, right? Right? Yeah! This morning! Okay. “Okay” you keep saying *he shoots him through the heart* [he is speechless, bleeding out] Do you know how many times supacree died to be supacree [he gasps for his final breaths, gushing blood] Continued I'm doing you a favor. [He fully dies] You owe me. THE GOOGLE KIDS are so cute. *super cute kids* WOW. Very, very cute. *crying from cuteness overload* Look, puppies. ugh. so what did you do after you graduated Fame School. NOTHING. Huh?!? In fact, I almost starved to death *eggagetates gasps* In fact, if it hadn't been for Whole Foods Market, I probably would have. *more gasps* Were they one of your sponsors?! [braking* fourth wall, looking directly into camera] I don't know yet. WHOLE FOODS MARKET yes. Ok. DILLON FRANCIS is the worlds most inconspicuous psychopath since Ted Bundy—his charm, fame, and status has kept his devious use of coercion, hypnotism, and lust for paysical and material possession under wraps for— DILLON FRANCIS (Jokingly, but not) Haha. I'm immortal. Well, centuries. Meanwhile, wherever this is at: See. Haha. This is fun. Adventure time. Woo! Haha. What do you want, Dillon Francis. I don't know yet. Haha. We'll see. At this point, he's just fully meniacal. This turnt up 8000 levels, bruh. Eithe thousand levels. What's that gonna do. We'll see. I just feel bad for Dillon's mom. Don't worry— I am Dillon's mom. Aww. You hijacked his mom? I hijacked his everything. You want a SPRIte?! I don't drink— DRINK THE SPRITE. okok. DRINK IT AD: DRINK SPRITEx Ok. Ok. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

{Across The Universe + A Star Is Born} (A Theatrical Production} - Enter The Multiverse

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 27, 2023 99:47

Madonna wants to be a movie star, huh Well I just want to be Madonna Maybe we could help each other out, huh Maybe that's why God's been calling out Madonna, Madonna You want it, i got it Just call up the number She's listed as “A Nobody” So far, so I hope you know the code The extension is 666 If you get disconnected Just call back And your call will be answered In the order it was Received Kaskade made two of my favorite songs of all time ever. One at the very begginning of his career… And one well—- SEATTLE WASHINGTON, 2021 Wherever he was a couple years ago. Who knows, man. Fucking time travelers. Present day. JAMAICA, QUEENS, NEW YORK. Vs. Add more weight. DUFF VS *** WHAT, I have to fight MYSELF. You've been fighting yourself the whole time! Shut the fuck up, Kaskade! Language. Shove it! *eats popcorn obnoxiously* Ugh. Fuck me, man. Whatever. I'm in the winners circle. SAD NEIL DEGRASSE TYSON. Woah: uh oh. What happened. Still a genius. SAD NEIL DEGRASSE TYSON has no formal education. Oh no. However, He sees multitudes of equations as synergetic values swirling in his mind as he rides the bus , appearing to be in a mindless daze, however, still a genius, trapped in the confines of his own mind, stuck at a dead-end job. Oh no. That is bad. Sup Neil deGrasse Tyson! *bully smacks pizza to the ground* Ugh. Sucks to suck. Laaaagh! Ugh. *sighs deeply, attempts to pick up pizza* Birds swarm the pizza, and a passerby steps on it* This brings a single, aolitary tear to his eye. Suddenly, the hunger struck me. MEANWHILE, at the eye of NOWHERE, whereas in the multiverse Jamaica, Queens resides—AT BLINK FITNESS. Father said, Skrillex (Mixed—Have a seat) [Blū fails to raise the bench press] V.O. Or maybe it was the Skrillex. *** Help. Please help. THE GODS Lol. [a group of men rush to blu's aide—the entire gym, all men besides the workers, erupt into laughter. “The Games of The Gods” Do you ever finish these episodes? Nope. Meanwhile, Dillon Francis is the biggest dick ever. Ahem. I said IS, not HAS. You don't know me. Shut up, Mrs.pancakes. That joke is so 2013. I told you, already—- PICKLE RICK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH *falling* Hey look, a pickle. Oh. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. You know what! I like you! Oh! That sucks! Can you not say things like that?! Things like what?! Things like me?! I thought you liked me! I do—just— What?! What Dillon Francis?! Try to remember this is all just a dream. A what?! Fuck you! I'm going to count backwards from three— Backwards for what? Three What Two What the fuck? -One. Lightning strikes— he claps his hands in time with the thunderclap—Sunni Blu immediately falls asleep—he watches them with a meniacal look in his eye, whispering into their ear, snapping one time— DILLON FRANCIS I'm going to count to three: when I clap my hands you'll wake up from this dream and into another—this world is my world— and in my world, from now on, whenever you hear the sound of a clap, you will remember who you are; and you will remember the sound of my voice. [He claps—Sunni Blū remains asleep in this reality—but suddenly, in a cross-dimensional parallel, CC wakes up in bed, holding instead of a handgun, a banana—startled and still appearing to be soaking wet, though drenched in sweat rather than rain, she draws the banana outward, tumbling out of bed and looking over her shoulder, cursing.] GODDDAMIT IT, DILLON FRANCIS. Cut back t Dillon Francis drags Sunni Blu's body into a Holda Civic Why a Honda civic Seems like a regular car Why not Nissan. Could be a Nissan So just make it a Nissan. Ok. [in the closest parallalell dimension, it is a Nissan.] Nice. (Shrugs) Anything but a Subaru. [being Skrillex] SKRILLEx SUBARRUUUUUUUUUUU—- *zoom* *splrSH* (All wet) Whatthefuck. Meanwhile, Did it work? Is she here? Well, not yet… Suddenly, a blue dot appears on the map. Bingo. YO. we did it. Suddenly, the dot turns from blue to red. Wait, what happened. I don't know Suddenly, the red dot turns purple. What the fuck is that. The dot then splits into two dots What. I dunno. I've never seen this before The two dots each split into two dots—now there are four dots—a green, a blue, a red, and a yellow dot—they begin to blink and swirl in a mesmerizing pattern, before dissipating and dissappearing entirely. The fuck! I don't know! Dude, do something. Do WHAT. Something! This has no logical fucking explaination whatsoever. The screen goes black. The map dissappears. What happened. We got hacked?! That's IMPOSSIBLE. It's not impossible It IS impossible. It's the most impossible impossibility fucking EVER. Okay, well— Okay well?! I don't know!!! The screen returns—the map is blank—the four dots reappear, each changing in color sequences and shapes quickly and drastically, dancing and swirling around the screen—the map reappears, the dots each spread to a separate corner of the map: north east south and west— the trails of the colors spelling out in the center of the map M A G I C I S R E A L, Then exploding into candy coated sparkles and confetti. What the fuck. *exasperated, under breath* It's fucking…Dillon Francis. What?! ITS FUCKING GODDAMN DILLON FRANCIS. FUCK! WHAT, No WAY. AAAAAGAGGGHHHHHHHHH. *throws shit, all mad* Careful! What's it MATTER!? …still… *loses shit* As he exits the base and enters his living room, he opens the outer door to find that l the entire living room is covered in candy coated confetti and sparkles; he slips into a puddle of strange gellatenous goo. UHMPH. The other two hackers come running o it from the lair, one also slipping in the goo, and the other stopping short at the door, in awe of the disaster. Ow! What the fuck! Whaaaaaaaaaa…… FUCKING—FUCK!! On a speeding bullet to nowhere, Comb out my hair for a moped Or hope of a slow rush to Some sorry apartment I pour all my art into Home, where the heart is It's cold, but she needs the attention— Just as much as I need the move that she gets from it anyway Envy in outfits, Dismissal of seasonal effective— A positive adjustment suggests that The entrance of pumpkin spiced Knitted sweaters and puffed jackets Are just as perhaps as attractive in essence As nakedness, To those in possession of Personality Then, something suggests As progressed in possessions, The payment was lovelessness Entering sequence SHIT! What?! is it Skrillex?! [Loading semi-automatic rave weapon] Can't be too sure… Yo. Yo. Madonna just walked in with Bob Saget. Bob Saget is dead. I KNOW THAT. YO. And they're about to do a B2B. That's WILD. Lol where is this party. Bag as a basket, Has to match the boots, hasn't it? Suede, like encantmemts, Enchanted, the spider, Still, she works hard at it (Hard as Manhattan) Masterful hat, my dear Happened to stand at the platform, Just long enough to— *SLAM* Got ‘em. Fuck. Alright, Okay. So it's dark, right? Yeah. Ow watch this. ^immensely bright shiny light* WOW. You see that? YEAH. That's your light. WOW. Yeah, okay, now turn it off. HOW? That's right, you don't know how. NO! I DONT. Try to remember. Remember what. How to turn it off. Why?! It's AWESOME. Yeah, turn it off. I don't know how. Try to remember. I—remember what. Turn it— I don't know how to do that. Well, I need you to try. What? What for?! -*huge scary monster appears out of darkness WOAH. That's what for. *MONSTER IS SCARY* OH. Yeah. *SCARY MONSTER ROAR* Ugh. With a snap, they instantly CHARGE into THE VOID. *heavy sigh* Dang. *nods* You see, that thing— *very scary monster* And other things like it— *vampires* *demons* *zombies* *racists* Eat light. But I make light. Exactly. So why is that a problem. Because. These dark things can't be satisfied— they'll take all of your light, until there's nothing left Oh... And worse, There are far worse things— Worse than that? Far worse. Things that will not only devour your light, but absorb you, and make you into a ravenous darkness—entrapped within the deepest realms of the outer worlds—a nothingness in which light cannot dwell—where no light can penetrate—no light is known—and you become such darkness so how multidimensional is she. Like, way multidimensional. Way, multidimensional, dude. I don't know if you want to take this on. I like a challengeS This is beyond a challenge, dude. This is, like— This could be career suicide. DILLON FRANCIS has a flashback to the most miserable moment in his career. …I'm willing to risk that. You're fucking crazy, man. Crazy is good. Let's do it. He slaps the table, cracks open a bottle of water and leaves, seeming bizzarely chipper. …he's fucking insane. *shrugs* Pays my bills. Yeah, I guess. Gh0st. What's all this supposed to mean. I thought we were getting fat. I wasn't serious. Neither was I. We were each other's imaginary friends. What's that, a coping mechanism? Almost. What's that, a calling card? Almost. Hijacking Beyoncé. Gold. I think the point I was making is I can't even touch Beyoncé. Nobody touches Beyoncé. Except Beyoncé. Well, maybe Jay-Z. Like I said. JAY-Z is also BEYONCÉ. Hah. Nice. Everything is Every— Shut up. Why are you in GA. I'm not gonna pay for a front row ticket to Fangirl Beyoncé. I thought you were fangirling me. Somebody has to. Japanese Lady badly singing on the train Should I record it? Tempting, but—I'll just keep this moment to myself. [literally the star of a movie] (At least I tried. ) Besides, I want to know what she's saying. How are you ever gonna know what she's saying. Meanwhile, at Ultra Japan SKRILLEX (Being Skrillex) Ugh. MEANWHRHIRLE. PASQUALLE ROTELLA is the head of the EDMADFIA Ok. Is that Electronic Dance Mafia Fuxk, now I want Pop-Tarts. Or Electronic Daisy Mafia PORQUE NO LAS DOS. Fuck, or I want tacos! THE ELECTRONIC DANCE MAFIA Wearing sleek black mysteriously dark attire, only ever so rarely accented by red as to notate the higher ranks of the most organized *possibly criminal* organization Wait, does the mafia still exist? Yes. Yes it does m. Ever. Oh wow. Yeah: THE ELECTRINIC DAISY MAFIA These flamboyant motherfuckers dress in purple with accents of pink, electric blue, and neon shades of yellow, green, and orange—but are highly mysterious, though almost obnoxiously Lol. This bitch is literally singing on the train. Wasn't that you just earlier? I— EARLIER, (but not that part:) She seems to have taken a sudden interest in the occult. [literally battling demons] This isn't SUDDEN. That is interesting. [in agreement and solidarity] Open the doors. The thing that was sudden, was that I started to notice that something about my voice changed the energy in any room, depending on the way I used it—it became important to notate exactly how the energy changed, and also— There she is. What kind of people arrived at the sound of my voice— Let's go. Who was I calling to. What was the nature of this force, and Your HIghness. Uh, okay. Why were they following me? Alright, I'm signing off. No, not yet... Not yet? Dude— It's not time. What is time?! *sighs* You pushed it at Beyoncé. Now who's fangirling. NOBODY. Yeah, except BEYONCÉ. BEYONCÉ approached ME. EXACTLY MY POINT. You and points. Explains the tattoos. You're one to talk. Nah, not really. I'm signing off. *sighs frustratedly* (whispered) HART. The bright light which once illumated the space between them fades out. Darkness. It is a simple room, where the two archangels meet to discuss their ongoing journey through the inner and outer worlds—they are, in essence, twin flames, perhaps, as to be described as one soul, split to display spectrums of opposite, which together signify balance— and apart exemplify chaos, confusion, and dissasemblance; imbalance, impurity, and unsynchronistic—not yet true Gods but dieties of a higher existence, escaping often between realms and plains to telepathically banter in a battle of wits; they are alike because they are one another—they are seperate because in order to fulfill all duties of the higher calling, they must remain as opposites until the day is called that they must forge their powers for the betterment of humanity, and become as one. A dark blue couch illuminated by a bright light, unseen but acting as the fourth wall, an old TV screen which displays a silent staic. c o l o r s Fuck, where is SUPACREE. Oh, she's dead. I know that. Then why did you ask. Because she should be here. Are you serious? I know she's here. She's not. She's dead. I know that: Then why'd you— THIS Is the land of the dead. This is not. What—of course it is. It is not, Yes it is! I just died this morning. Hah. Okay. “Okay?” Yeah: “Okay.” What's that mean? It means “okay” “Okay?!” “Okay!” [beat] *sighs frustratedly* Look, you said “SUPACREE”, right? Yes. And you just died, right? Right? Yeah! This morning! Okay. “Okay” you keep saying *he shoots him through the heart* [he is speechless, bleeding out] Do you know how many times supacree died to be supacree [he gasps for his final breaths, gushing blood] Continued I'm doing you a favor. [He fully dies] You owe me. THE GOOGLE KIDS are so cute. *super cute kids* WOW. Very, very cute. *crying from cuteness overload* Look, puppies. ugh. so what did you do after you graduated Fame School. NOTHING. Huh?!? In fact, I almost starved to death *eggagetates gasps* In fact, if it hadn't been for Whole Foods Market, I probably would have. *more gasps* Were they one of your sponsors?! [braking* fourth wall, looking directly into camera] I don't know yet. WHOLE FOODS MARKET yes. Ok. DILLON FRANCIS is the worlds most inconspicuous psychopath since Ted Bundy—his charm, fame, and status has kept his devious use of coercion, hypnotism, and lust for paysical and material possession under wraps for— DILLON FRANCIS (Jokingly, but not) Haha. I'm immortal. Well, centuries. Meanwhile, wherever this is at: See. Haha. This is fun. Adventure time. Woo! Haha. What do you want, Dillon Francis. I don't know yet. Haha. We'll see. At this point, he's just fully meniacal. This turnt up 8000 levels, bruh. Eithe thousand levels. What's that gonna do. We'll see. I just feel bad for Dillon's mom. Don't worry— I am Dillon's mom. Aww. You hijacked his mom? I hijacked his everything. You want a SPRIte?! I don't drink— DRINK THE SPRITE. okok. DRINK IT AD: DRINK SPRITEx Ok. Ok. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

{Across The Universe + Star Is Born} (A Theatrical Production) - Enter The Multiverse

The Infinite Skrillifiles: OWSLA Confidential

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 27, 2023 99:47

Madonna wants to be a movie star, huh Well I just want to be Madonna Maybe we could help each other out, huh Maybe that's why God's been calling out Madonna, Madonna You want it, i got it Just call up the number She's listed as “A Nobody” So far, so I hope you know the code The extension is 666 If you get disconnected Just call back And your call will be answered In the order it was Received Kaskade made two of my favorite songs of all time ever. One at the very begginning of his career… And one well—- SEATTLE WASHINGTON, 2021 Wherever he was a couple years ago. Who knows, man. Fucking time travelers. Present day. JAMAICA, QUEENS, NEW YORK. Vs. Add more weight. DUFF VS *** WHAT, I have to fight MYSELF. You've been fighting yourself the whole time! Shut the fuck up, Kaskade! Language. Shove it! *eats popcorn obnoxiously* Ugh. Fuck me, man. Whatever. I'm in the winners circle. SAD NEIL DEGRASSE TYSON. Woah: uh oh. What happened. Still a genius. SAD NEIL DEGRASSE TYSON has no formal education. Oh no. However, He sees multitudes of equations as synergetic values swirling in his mind as he rides the bus , appearing to be in a mindless daze, however, still a genius, trapped in the confines of his own mind, stuck at a dead-end job. Oh no. That is bad. Sup Neil deGrasse Tyson! *bully smacks pizza to the ground* Ugh. Sucks to suck. Laaaagh! Ugh. *sighs deeply, attempts to pick up pizza* Birds swarm the pizza, and a passerby steps on it* This brings a single, aolitary tear to his eye. Suddenly, the hunger struck me. MEANWHILE, at the eye of NOWHERE, whereas in the multiverse Jamaica, Queens resides—AT BLINK FITNESS. Father said, Skrillex (Mixed—Have a seat) [Blū fails to raise the bench press] V.O. Or maybe it was the Skrillex. *** Help. Please help. THE GODS Lol. [a group of men rush to blu's aide—the entire gym, all men besides the workers, erupt into laughter. “The Games of The Gods” Do you ever finish these episodes? Nope. Meanwhile, Dillon Francis is the biggest dick ever. Ahem. I said IS, not HAS. You don't know me. Shut up, Mrs.pancakes. That joke is so 2013. I told you, already—- PICKLE RICK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH *falling* Hey look, a pickle. Oh. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. You know what! I like you! Oh! That sucks! Can you not say things like that?! Things like what?! Things like me?! I thought you liked me! I do—just— What?! What Dillon Francis?! Try to remember this is all just a dream. A what?! Fuck you! I'm going to count backwards from three— Backwards for what? Three What Two What the fuck? -One. Lightning strikes— he claps his hands in time with the thunderclap—Sunni Blu immediately falls asleep—he watches them with a meniacal look in his eye, whispering into their ear, snapping one time— DILLON FRANCIS I'm going to count to three: when I clap my hands you'll wake up from this dream and into another—this world is my world— and in my world, from now on, whenever you hear the sound of a clap, you will remember who you are; and you will remember the sound of my voice. [He claps—Sunni Blū remains asleep in this reality—but suddenly, in a cross-dimensional parallel, CC wakes up in bed, holding instead of a handgun, a banana—startled and still appearing to be soaking wet, though drenched in sweat rather than rain, she draws the banana outward, tumbling out of bed and looking over her shoulder, cursing.] GODDDAMIT IT, DILLON FRANCIS. Cut back t Dillon Francis drags Sunni Blu's body into a Holda Civic Why a Honda civic Seems like a regular car Why not Nissan. Could be a Nissan So just make it a Nissan. Ok. [in the closest parallalell dimension, it is a Nissan.] Nice. (Shrugs) Anything but a Subaru. [being Skrillex] SKRILLEx SUBARRUUUUUUUUUUU—- *zoom* *splrSH* (All wet) Whatthefuck. Meanwhile, Did it work? Is she here? Well, not yet… Suddenly, a blue dot appears on the map. Bingo. YO. we did it. Suddenly, the dot turns from blue to red. Wait, what happened. I don't know Suddenly, the red dot turns purple. What the fuck is that. The dot then splits into two dots What. I dunno. I've never seen this before The two dots each split into two dots—now there are four dots—a green, a blue, a red, and a yellow dot—they begin to blink and swirl in a mesmerizing pattern, before dissipating and dissappearing entirely. The fuck! I don't know! Dude, do something. Do WHAT. Something! This has no logical fucking explaination whatsoever. The screen goes black. The map dissappears. What happened. We got hacked?! That's IMPOSSIBLE. It's not impossible It IS impossible. It's the most impossible impossibility fucking EVER. Okay, well— Okay well?! I don't know!!! The screen returns—the map is blank—the four dots reappear, each changing in color sequences and shapes quickly and drastically, dancing and swirling around the screen—the map reappears, the dots each spread to a separate corner of the map: north east south and west— the trails of the colors spelling out in the center of the map M A G I C I S R E A L, Then exploding into candy coated sparkles and confetti. What the fuck. *exasperated, under breath* It's fucking…Dillon Francis. What?! ITS FUCKING GODDAMN DILLON FRANCIS. FUCK! WHAT, No WAY. AAAAAGAGGGHHHHHHHHH. *throws shit, all mad* Careful! What's it MATTER!? …still… *loses shit* As he exits the base and enters his living room, he opens the outer door to find that l the entire living room is covered in candy coated confetti and sparkles; he slips into a puddle of strange gellatenous goo. UHMPH. The other two hackers come running o it from the lair, one also slipping in the goo, and the other stopping short at the door, in awe of the disaster. Ow! What the fuck! Whaaaaaaaaaa…… FUCKING—FUCK!! On a speeding bullet to nowhere, Comb out my hair for a moped Or hope of a slow rush to Some sorry apartment I pour all my art into Home, where the heart is It's cold, but she needs the attention— Just as much as I need the move that she gets from it anyway Envy in outfits, Dismissal of seasonal effective— A positive adjustment suggests that The entrance of pumpkin spiced Knitted sweaters and puffed jackets Are just as perhaps as attractive in essence As nakedness, To those in possession of Personality Then, something suggests As progressed in possessions, The payment was lovelessness Entering sequence SHIT! What?! is it Skrillex?! [Loading semi-automatic rave weapon] Can't be too sure… Yo. Yo. Madonna just walked in with Bob Saget. Bob Saget is dead. I KNOW THAT. YO. And they're about to do a B2B. That's WILD. Lol where is this party. Bag as a basket, Has to match the boots, hasn't it? Suede, like encantmemts, Enchanted, the spider, Still, she works hard at it (Hard as Manhattan) Masterful hat, my dear Happened to stand at the platform, Just long enough to— *SLAM* Got ‘em. Fuck. Alright, Okay. So it's dark, right? Yeah. Ow watch this. ^immensely bright shiny light* WOW. You see that? YEAH. That's your light. WOW. Yeah, okay, now turn it off. HOW? That's right, you don't know how. NO! I DONT. Try to remember. Remember what. How to turn it off. Why?! It's AWESOME. Yeah, turn it off. I don't know how. Try to remember. I—remember what. Turn it— I don't know how to do that. Well, I need you to try. What? What for?! -*huge scary monster appears out of darkness WOAH. That's what for. *MONSTER IS SCARY* OH. Yeah. *SCARY MONSTER ROAR* Ugh. With a snap, they instantly CHARGE into THE VOID. *heavy sigh* Dang. *nods* You see, that thing— *very scary monster* And other things like it— *vampires* *demons* *zombies* *racists* Eat light. But I make light. Exactly. So why is that a problem. Because. These dark things can't be satisfied— they'll take all of your light, until there's nothing left Oh... And worse, There are far worse things— Worse than that? Far worse. Things that will not only devour your light, but absorb you, and make you into a ravenous darkness—entrapped within the deepest realms of the outer worlds—a nothingness in which light cannot dwell—where no light can penetrate—no light is known—and you become such darkness so how multidimensional is she. Like, way multidimensional. Way, multidimensional, dude. I don't know if you want to take this on. I like a challengeS This is beyond a challenge, dude. This is, like— This could be career suicide. DILLON FRANCIS has a flashback to the most miserable moment in his career. …I'm willing to risk that. You're fucking crazy, man. Crazy is good. Let's do it. He slaps the table, cracks open a bottle of water and leaves, seeming bizzarely chipper. …he's fucking insane. *shrugs* Pays my bills. Yeah, I guess. Gh0st. What's all this supposed to mean. I thought we were getting fat. I wasn't serious. Neither was I. We were each other's imaginary friends. What's that, a coping mechanism? Almost. What's that, a calling card? Almost. Hijacking Beyoncé. Gold. I think the point I was making is I can't even touch Beyoncé. Nobody touches Beyoncé. Except Beyoncé. Well, maybe Jay-Z. Like I said. JAY-Z is also BEYONCÉ. Hah. Nice. Everything is Every— Shut up. Why are you in GA. I'm not gonna pay for a front row ticket to Fangirl Beyoncé. I thought you were fangirling me. Somebody has to. Japanese Lady badly singing on the train Should I record it? Tempting, but—I'll just keep this moment to myself. [literally the star of a movie] (At least I tried. ) Besides, I want to know what she's saying. How are you ever gonna know what she's saying. Meanwhile, at Ultra Japan SKRILLEX (Being Skrillex) Ugh. MEANWHRHIRLE. PASQUALLE ROTELLA is the head of the EDMADFIA Ok. Is that Electronic Dance Mafia Fuxk, now I want Pop-Tarts. Or Electronic Daisy Mafia PORQUE NO LAS DOS. Fuck, or I want tacos! THE ELECTRONIC DANCE MAFIA Wearing sleek black mysteriously dark attire, only ever so rarely accented by red as to notate the higher ranks of the most organized *possibly criminal* organization Wait, does the mafia still exist? Yes. Yes it does m. Ever. Oh wow. Yeah: THE ELECTRINIC DAISY MAFIA These flamboyant motherfuckers dress in purple with accents of pink, electric blue, and neon shades of yellow, green, and orange—but are highly mysterious, though almost obnoxiously Lol. This bitch is literally singing on the train. Wasn't that you just earlier? I— EARLIER, (but not that part:) She seems to have taken a sudden interest in the occult. [literally battling demons] This isn't SUDDEN. That is interesting. [in agreement and solidarity] Open the doors. The thing that was sudden, was that I started to notice that something about my voice changed the energy in any room, depending on the way I used it—it became important to notate exactly how the energy changed, and also— There she is. What kind of people arrived at the sound of my voice— Let's go. Who was I calling to. What was the nature of this force, and Your HIghness. Uh, okay. Why were they following me? Alright, I'm signing off. No, not yet... Not yet? Dude— It's not time. What is time?! *sighs* You pushed it at Beyoncé. Now who's fangirling. NOBODY. Yeah, except BEYONCÉ. BEYONCÉ approached ME. EXACTLY MY POINT. You and points. Explains the tattoos. You're one to talk. Nah, not really. I'm signing off. *sighs frustratedly* (whispered) HART. The bright light which once illumated the space between them fades out. Darkness. It is a simple room, where the two archangels meet to discuss their ongoing journey through the inner and outer worlds—they are, in essence, twin flames, perhaps, as to be described as one soul, split to display spectrums of opposite, which together signify balance— and apart exemplify chaos, confusion, and dissasemblance; imbalance, impurity, and unsynchronistic—not yet true Gods but dieties of a higher existence, escaping often between realms and plains to telepathically banter in a battle of wits; they are alike because they are one another—they are seperate because in order to fulfill all duties of the higher calling, they must remain as opposites until the day is called that they must forge their powers for the betterment of humanity, and become as one. A dark blue couch illuminated by a bright light, unseen but acting as the fourth wall, an old TV screen which displays a silent staic. c o l o r s Fuck, where is SUPACREE. Oh, she's dead. I know that. Then why did you ask. Because she should be here. Are you serious? I know she's here. She's not. She's dead. I know that: Then why'd you— THIS Is the land of the dead. This is not. What—of course it is. It is not, Yes it is! I just died this morning. Hah. Okay. “Okay?” Yeah: “Okay.” What's that mean? It means “okay” “Okay?!” “Okay!” [beat] *sighs frustratedly* Look, you said “SUPACREE”, right? Yes. And you just died, right? Right? Yeah! This morning! Okay. “Okay” you keep saying *he shoots him through the heart* [he is speechless, bleeding out] Do you know how many times supacree died to be supacree [he gasps for his final breaths, gushing blood] Continued I'm doing you a favor. [He fully dies] You owe me. THE GOOGLE KIDS are so cute. *super cute kids* WOW. Very, very cute. *crying from cuteness overload* Look, puppies. ugh. so what did you do after you graduated Fame School. NOTHING. Huh?!? In fact, I almost starved to death *eggagetates gasps* In fact, if it hadn't been for Whole Foods Market, I probably would have. *more gasps* Were they one of your sponsors?! [braking* fourth wall, looking directly into camera] I don't know yet. WHOLE FOODS MARKET yes. Ok. DILLON FRANCIS is the worlds most inconspicuous psychopath since Ted Bundy—his charm, fame, and status has kept his devious use of coercion, hypnotism, and lust for paysical and material possession under wraps for— DILLON FRANCIS (Jokingly, but not) Haha. I'm immortal. Well, centuries. Meanwhile, wherever this is at: See. Haha. This is fun. Adventure time. Woo! Haha. What do you want, Dillon Francis. I don't know yet. Haha. We'll see. At this point, he's just fully meniacal. This turnt up 8000 levels, bruh. Eithe thousand levels. What's that gonna do. We'll see. I just feel bad for Dillon's mom. Don't worry— I am Dillon's mom. Aww. You hijacked his mom? I hijacked his everything. You want a SPRIte?! I don't drink— DRINK THE SPRITE. okok. DRINK IT AD: DRINK SPRITEx Ok. Ok. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Lillian Colón, Dancer, Choreographer, Author and First Latina Rockette

Revolución

Play Episode Listen Later Nov 17, 2023 30:16

The real orphan Annie is alive, but she sings "mañana, mañana." Lillian Colón began her career with the Radio City Rockettes at 32. In this episode of The Revolución, Colón shares how she joined the world's most famous precision dance company. She also talks about her early years in an orphanage after her father left her there, as well as how her passion and spiritual fortitude has led to great heights – including Lin Manuel Miranda's "In The Heights" movie. Colón is no withering flower; her rise from the ashes is a phoenix story. Lillian currently teaches at the Broadway Dance Center. works on her solo show at the Puerto Rican Traveling Theatre and dreams of becoming Disney's next princess – “The Puerto Rican Princess,” that is. Thank you to Tracey Y. Smith at More Than Words Publicity for her help in arranging this interview. We also want to thank the band P-G-M for the use of it's song "April" as the Revolución theme. Lillian Colón's Book: LILLY, The First Latina RocketteWebsite:https://www.lilliancolon.com/ Follow us on: The Revolución WebsiteInstagramXFacebookLinkedIn#rockette #radiocitymusichall #puertorican #dance #disneyprincess #orphanage #nuns #catholic #spiritualfortitude #passion @revolverpodcast

-Practicum.

Play Episode Listen Later Aug 16, 2023 13:26

Fame School, Volume 1. -Ū

practicum fame school

3Haunted: Geeks of Horror - International Horror with Robb Moreira

3Haunted Podcast

Play Episode Listen Later Jun 14, 2023 87:18

What's up ghouls, gals, and all of our horror loving geeks out there! Today we will be talking about international horror films with our returning guest, Robb Moreira. Last time, we had asked Robb to give us a list of his favorite international movies, so we could watch them and discuss them with him on another show. That show is now!Robb is a successful currently working Voice Over Talent and Coach who specializes in both Spanish and English commercial work. With over a decade of acting training through the Fame School of the Arts and the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, his acting pursuits in theater took him to the world of voice over, where being bilingual has truly paid off for he and his clients. Robb is also an avid horror fan with a special love for international horror films.Follow us on all of our social media platforms:InstagramFacebookTikTok

english coach spanish arts geeks american academy robb moreira dramatic arts voice over talent international horror fame school robb moreira

[FAME SCHOOL MUSICAL]

The Infinite Skrillifiles: OWSLA Confidential

Play Episode Listen Later May 28, 2023 69:16

[CC launches a ficus across the room, narrowly missing D, J, shattering against the wall The neighbors in the apartment next door can be heard muffled through the wall. What the fuck was that?! AGAIN?! They're going to kill each other. DJ —I think you should go. CC I think you should go! DJ It's my apartment. CC Yeah, but I live here. DJ With me. CC Well, fuck you. DJ [staring at the shattered ficus vase and heap of miracle grow] Ugh. [CC hurls a small carry on suitcase in his direction] CC BYE-BYE DJ. DJ WHERE AM I SUPPOSED TO GO?! CC —To your parents. DJ They're outta town! CC Go with them! [CC locks herself into the master bedroom; DJ deflatedly shuts off the lights and attempts to curl up on the couch—which explodes] DJ YOU PUT A BOMB IN THE COUCH. CC It's remote controlled. DJ leave the apartment and walks down the street, still smoldering and dripping fire extinguisher foam; he arrives at his parents house to find that they have removed the spare key from under the mat, having replaced it with a note that reads “stop coming over uninvited.” He then opts to climb through the most acceible window, two stories up—and after a couple extremely unsuccessful attempts, finally managed to get through the window—his father emerges from the closet dressed as Superman DJ?! What are you doing here?! Me and CC got into a fight. What did you do this time?! What did I do?! It's always your fault. Why do you always take her side?! Because— you're an idiot! Yeah, thanks dad. Goddammit, Dillon. Why are you here?! Why are YOU here!? You're supposed to be out of town! THAT'S none of your business! And why are you dressed like Superman. Shhh! Lower your voice. And where's Mom?!? SUPERMAN! SUPERMAN! [DJs mom wearing a terrible wig and strange lingerie costume comes running into the kitchen over dramatically—she sees DJ and stops short] SUPER—DILLON!? What are you doing here?! I'm staying over! No you are not! [A large masked black man with his arms out playfully runs into the room—stopping and standing up straight as he approaches the family, staring in an awkward silence] Who is THIS?! … OH MY GOD! MOM! —well, we weren't expecting you! WHAT THE FUCK, DAD. —we told you to stop coming over uninvited! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE “OUT OF TOWN”. How did you even get in here?! THROUGH THE WINDOW—HOW DID YOU NOT SEE ME?! We did see you! We just thought you were our friend! What—your “friend?!” WHAT?! [ A man enters through the window dressed as a robber] Oh—hey—I, uh—thought it was just the three of us. It was supposed to be— This is our son, Dillon; he had a fight with his girlfriend. So—will he be joining us, or—? OH MY GOD! NO! GROSS. DJ, you're 40 years old. I'm 35! So grow up! —so is this—party over— or Should we reachedule? NO No—we'll just. [wagging her finger] Dillon, Go to your room and do not come out and I don't want to hear a peep from you — not a peep; do you understand. …yes. Good! Now go. DJ trails up the stairs bewildered, still covered in ash and with tears in his eyes. DJ sits in his old bedroom attempting to drown out the sounds of his parents' weird shenanigans, crying softly to himself. Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

dj dad mom musical superman lower gross djs copyright cc oh my god shhh what the fuck fame school

[up.].

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 30, 2022 22:34

“The Fame Game “ Seven Secret contestants are chosen by a quiet collective of wealthy individuals, scientists, andywole elite to compete through the inter dimensions o reality:!9'lu three will remain in the final round—one will be chosen to be given an unknown series of tasks, set to unlock a golden oracle. Wasn't I about to write something? If I was, I forgot what it was already Don't miss breakfast. I wanted tater tots. I know what you wanted. That's a lot of tater tots. I know. … … … Do you have any sauce? Alright, Dillon Francis Yea. What's up. Nothin. It's like a fucked up Cheaper By The Dozen, With more kids, And mormons; And doesn't make sense, in the beginning ; Then you'll get it What's this one? It's The Adventures of… A FIRE grows astonishingly quickly at a campsite in the forest. STOP IT. We gotta put it out somehow. You're making it WORSE. You started it. But you're making it WORSE. Fine. Fix it yourself, then. [CC leaves DJ as the fire grows rapidly.] Wait. CC! [CC continues walking away calmly.] CC! LATER [DJ Enters the driver's seat of his van, as CC sits texting, aloof, on her phone. He shuts the door, motionlessl staring forward, face blackened with ash. CC looks up from her phone, her eyes obscured from behind her dark sunglasses.] [beat] …Did you put it out? …Yes. [She nods and goes back to her phone. DJ reaches for his sunglasses, covering his ash-swept eyes, starts the van, and drives slowly forward.] Lol. what's this shit? Idk. It's with Dillon Francis and some girl What girl. idk . Is it funny? It's on Netflix. So binge watch it? That's the plan. WHAT. What if it's on Amazon Prime?! Nothing's on Amazon Prime. Animal House is. What is ANIMAL HOUSE CLIPS Woah. That's a lot. That's so much. ANYWAY What. What i it's on Hulu? FUCK HULU A HULU ORIGINAL SERIES Whaaaaaat. What is this THe AdventuresOf… PAUSE. I gotta break this fast. Yeah, that's enough. What the fuck is this guy doing with his magic. Let's start slow: Smart Water, and probiotics, Some nonsense plot; Then, my scar lights up like Harry Potter's “Ah, shit. Not again.” I wanna saw off my noggin and watch Nick And pop ten rocks, If it's toxic enough To get me off this rock, quick! Eminem?! Nah, it's Marshall; You went off in the project And forgot what the next remark was. Fuck. Uhhhhhm…. I lost it. Fuck. My heart stopped, As I name-dropped a lot of stars, Another cougher, I just want the deposit on a loft , Or an Oscar, Either one works. Fuck. I forgot what the words were, What hurts more? TO be apart, or forgotten? The knot slipped? Better not go tie another; “My brother, my son, But never my love, Nor my father”, the promise: An obstacle A box, And she hasn't stopped since The clock rocked her walking on water, and stop watches Watch this: Fuck: I bet i forgot what the plot was, It's hunger, Better off a breakfast, Than at the wrong brunch. Fucking A. What was it. Welcome to the land of bad habits, And addicts, White rabbits, Cabbage patch kids, with no parents Pageant winners and panty sniffers It's not a tragedy, as Grabbitz said, It happens as I planned, Turns out the demon is your friend; The only enemy you have is Dillon Francis. Oh. That took a turn WHATDOESHEDOWITHHISMAGIC. look what he does with his magic. Wow. ‘Don't waste my time' It's playtime, I guess Speak in rhymes, And write whatever's in my head, At the time, The eye turns red, like fire: Guess who I am. … DJ and CC have been best friends since 7th Grade. I don't know how to write this scene, Lol. SHIA LABEOUFF Uh oh. That's not right. Don' google it. I know, huh. Uhh. It's okay. I got this. SHIA LaBeouf* lol Worst last name ever Anyway SHIA LABEOUF JUST DO IT. Ok. The former child stars of the LATE 90's EARLY 2000's era Lol, how do you write something like this idk. Here: A STRANGE CULT has gathered, a large tabernacle-like choir chanting ceremoniously, cloaked beneath the long robes and thick plumes of smoke, hidden deep within the confines of a candlelit cavern, adorned with mystifying and mysterious objects. Yeah, that does it. Lol. Don't put me around famous people, guys. I'm not right. Especially ones I like. Kesha blew my mind like 4 years ago and it still keeps me up at night. I'm telling you. It's not right. Just write. The Chanting reaches it's peak and comes to a close, as a– Wait. What. Economically speaking Uh huh. How much money is it going to take to get all of these people in a room together at one time. A lot. We can do cut takes. No cut takes! WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. YOU'RE INVITED Ooh. what's this. COME TO THE DARK SIDE WE HAVE COOKIES. DUMMMMMMB. This is reckless. Stop doing whippets. No. What? Why not. Hoes Love Whippets. CARRYING ON. Josh– I SAID, CARRYING ON. Why Does Josh Peck talk in all caps? Typecasting. AnYwAyS So– is she– ‘The Forgotten One' CULT, UNANIMOUSLY “The Forgotten One” The shadowy figure removes his hood to reveal himself as DRAKE BELL (gasp) Yeah, she's one of us. DUDE. You're not supposed to take your hood off! It's hot under here: SO! Everything's on fire and I had to run around and get cupcakes! –And that's where we left off: JOSH PECK also removes his hood, revealing himself to the audience. Woah. what episode of Drake and Josh is THIS A new one. No fucking way. JOSH PECK WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. (From The Crowd) Aw, what–there's no cookies? (Crowd disapproval; everyone deflates and begins taking off their hoods and cloaks, clamoring.) THE DISNEY CHANNEL CIRCLE OF STARS Enter Dramatically through every possible entrance, much like the cas of a critically-acclaimed Broadway musical. Which Broadway musical? Uh. One where the cast enters through the aisle. Duh. Ugh, these guys. Who invited them? I did. For what? That was the whole point. After a large MUSIC/DANCE number. Lol Hold the phone What How are we gonna get ALL THESE MOTHERFUCKERS CUT TAKES NO CUT TAKES. BRO. HM. IGOTIT, SUPACREE wakes up at a mysterious RAVE. Oh shit. Throw a party. Celebrities loooooooove parties. That's all they do. … … … Yeah–that too, but we don't like to think about that. DISNEY. I'll take it. SOLD. Wait, this is on Disney? Or one of it's subsidiaries, none of which are NICKELODEON. We'll take it. SOLD. Wait. What. You Auctioned Off The Festival Project on The Black Market? Yeah. WHY? I don't know. Something about cookies. At the height of the chaos, SUPACREE strolls in. Ah shit, cupcakes! I love these. THE FORGOTTEN ONE. Are these Vegan? (gasps and whispers, whippets in the back) Pause. OKay. Deep thought process collison Go on… Either someone's a genius and set this whole thing up That's making sense Or Hollywood just fucks people up enough that Whippets. I need more whippets. For what? Whippets. Everyone's on drugs. oh golly, everyone's fucked up. Orrrr, orr–they're just having fun. Should I be worried? Nah. … … … Coincidences don't exist. JOSH PECK A COINCIDENCE THIS IS NOT. How are you this deep in my consciousness. Maybe I'm Not. Oh yeah, I watched The Wackness. Oh yeah, huh. Fuck. So wait. Everyone's just real hot– Money's not a problem, And everyone's on drugs. Yeah. Sign me up! Okay, You're up. Excuse me, I'm what? You're on Go. Uhhh— Just…talk. This is stalking. Don't stop writing OMG WHAT'S IN THE DUFFEL BAG . What's in the pinata? This is NOT THAT SHOW. Of Course it is. It's not. THIS IS AAAAAAALL THAT THIS iS AAAAALLL THAAAAAAT. yeah. HOW MUCH IS THIS GONNA COST??? Can we please have a stereotypically jewish accountant for this project? On it. Rodger. What's up, guys. Uh. These are good. … … … Can you see us? Yeah. All of us. I think so. Especially Amanda Bynes. Hey, AMAND BYNES —she KNOWS who I AM. Duh. WOO. [takes a whippet] Wow. How are you not freaking out?! I have cupcakes. Fiar. Besides, it's just a dream. What? I'm dreaming. None of this is real. Uh–it's not a dream. Maybe multiple dreams. Ew. Don't be gross. I can be gross. It's my dream. You don't understand. No, you don't understand. Because you're in my dream; But i”m dreaming. I'll probably just wake up in a couple of minutes when I'm finished with this cupcake…and really want cupcakes. How did you even get here?! What reality do you think this is? It's not reality. IT iS–REALITY. THIS IS REAL. FLASHBACK: HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA 2010 Woah, hold the phone. Yes, I'll hold. Nothing really matters anymore, No more words, now Try to lay down Try to phaseout my Drastic, disasterful thoughts With croissants And the words to a song, Or a new work of art in The Festival Project I'm not God, yet; I'm only his daughter A doctor, I work at the smokeshop Look, go back to Hollywood– Now you're a subject. Went to Fame School, But just started fame college I'll need that doctorate to call Drake and Josh up –Honestly, don't come back. I filled up half a chapter (Don't want your autograph) I wrote a paragraph after, 10 songs, and wanted a cocktail For watching you Buy your own canister Jesus Almighty And Kevin McCallister Candidly answer a Call from the darkness: “Heaven Help Hollywood, Please, Heaven Help Us. “ [The Festival Project] The Legenf of… {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

[[UP]]

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 30, 2022 22:34

Wasn't I about to write something? If I was, I forgot what it was already Don't miss breakfast. I wanted tater tots. I know what you wanted. That's a lot of tater tots. I know. … … … Do you have any sauce? Alright, Dillon Francis Yea. What's up. Nothin. It's like a fucked up Cheaper By The Dozen, With more kids, And mormons; And doesn't make sense, in the beginning ; Then you'll get it What's this one? It's The Adventures of… A FIRE grows astonishingly quickly at a campsite in the forest. STOP IT. We gotta put it out somehow. You're making it WORSE. You started it. But you're making it WORSE. Fine. Fix it yourself, then. [CC leaves DJ as the fire grows rapidly.] Wait. CC! [CC continues walking away calmly.] CC! LATER [DJ Enters the driver's seat of his van, as CC sits texting, aloof, on her phone. He shuts the door, motionlessl staring forward, face blackened with ash. CC looks up from her phone, her eyes obscured from behind her dark sunglasses.] [beat] …Did you put it out? …Yes. [She nods and goes back to her phone. DJ reaches for his sunglasses, covering his ash-swept eyes, starts the van, and drives slowly forward.] Lol. what's this shit? Idk. It's with Dillon Francis and some girl What girl. idk . Is it funny? It's on Netflix. So binge watch it? That's the plan. WHAT. What if it's on Amazon Prime?! Nothing's on Amazon Prime. Animal House is. What is ANIMAL HOUSE CLIPS Woah. That's a lot. That's so much. ANYWAY What. What i it's on Hulu? FUCK HULU A HULU ORIGINAL SERIES Whaaaaaat. What is this THe AdventuresOf… PAUSE. I gotta break this fast. Yeah, that's enough. What the fuck is this guy doing with his magic. Let's start slow: Smart Water, and probiotics, Some nonsense plot; Then, my scar lights up like Harry Potter's “Ah, shit. Not again.” I wanna saw off my noggin and watch Nick And pop ten rocks, If it's toxic enough To get me off this rock, quick! Eminem?! Nah, it's Marshall; You went off in the project And forgot what the next remark was. Fuck. Uhhhhhm…. I lost it. Fuck. My heart stopped, As I name-dropped a lot of stars, Another cougher, I just want the deposit on a loft , Or an Oscar, Either one works. Fuck. I forgot what the words were, What hurts more? TO be apart, or forgotten? The knot slipped? Better not go tie another; “My brother, my son, But never my love, Nor my father”, the promise: An obstacle A box, And she hasn't stopped since The clock rocked her walking on water, and stop watches Watch this: Fuck: I bet i forgot what the plot was, It's hunger, Better off a breakfast, Than at the wrong brunch. Fucking A. What was it. Welcome to the land of bad habits, And addicts, White rabbits, Cabbage patch kids, with no parents Pageant winners and panty sniffers It's not a tragedy, as Grabbitz said, It happens as I planned, Turns out the demon is your friend; The only enemy you have is Dillon Francis. Oh. That took a turn WHATDOESHEDOWITHHISMAGIC. look what he does with his magic. Wow. ‘Don't waste my time' It's playtime, I guess Speak in rhymes, And write whatever's in my head, At the time, The eye turns red, like fire: Guess who I am. … DJ and CC have been best friends since 7th Grade. I don't know how to write this scene, Lol. SHIA LABEOUFF Uh oh. That's not right. Don' google it. I know, huh. Uhh. It's okay. I got this. SHIA LaBeouf* lol Worst last name ever Anyway SHIA LABEOUF JUST DO IT. Ok. The former child stars of the LATE 90's EARLY 2000's era Lol, how do you write something like this idk. Here: A STRANGE CULT has gathered, a large tabernacle-like choir chanting ceremoniously, cloaked beneath the long robes and thick plumes of smoke, hidden deep within the confines of a candlelit cavern, adorned with mystifying and mysterious objects. Yeah, that does it. Lol. Don't put me around famous people, guys. I'm not right. Especially ones I like. Kesha blew my mind like 4 years ago and it still keeps me up at night. I'm telling you. It's not right. Just write. The Chanting reaches it's peak and comes to a close, as a– Wait. What. Economically speaking Uh huh. How much money is it going to take to get all of these people in a room together at one time. A lot. We can do cut takes. No cut takes! WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. YOU'RE INVITED Ooh. what's this. COME TO THE DARK SIDE WE HAVE COOKIES. DUMMMMMMB. This is reckless. Stop doing whippets. No. What? Why not. Hoes Love Whippets. CARRYING ON. Josh– I SAID, CARRYING ON. Why Does Josh Peck talk in all caps? Typecasting. AnYwAyS So– is she– ‘The Forgotten One' CULT, UNANIMOUSLY “The Forgotten One” The shadowy figure removes his hood to reveal himself as DRAKE BELL (gasp) Yeah, she's one of us. DUDE. You're not supposed to take your hood off! It's hot under here: SO! Everything's on fire and I had to run around and get cupcakes! –And that's where we left off: JOSH PECK also removes his hood, revealing himself to the audience. Woah. what episode of Drake and Josh is THIS A new one. No fucking way. JOSH PECK WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. (From The Crowd) Aw, what–there's no cookies? (Crowd disapproval; everyone deflates and begins taking off their hoods and cloaks, clamoring.) THE DISNEY CHANNEL CIRCLE OF STARS Enter Dramatically through every possible entrance, much like the cas of a critically-acclaimed Broadway musical. Which Broadway musical? Uh. One where the cast enters through the aisle. Duh. Ugh, these guys. Who invited them? I did. For what? That was the whole point. After a large MUSIC/DANCE number. Lol Hold the phone What How are we gonna get ALL THESE MOTHERFUCKERS CUT TAKES NO CUT TAKES. BRO. HM. IGOTIT, SUPACREE wakes up at a mysterious RAVE. Oh shit. Throw a party. Celebrities loooooooove parties. That's all they do. … … … Yeah–that too, but we don't like to think about that. DISNEY. I'll take it. SOLD. Wait, this is on Disney? Or one of it's subsidiaries, none of which are NICKELODEON. We'll take it. SOLD. Wait. What. You Auctioned Off The Festival Project on The Black Market? Yeah. WHY? I don't know. Something about cookies. At the height of the chaos, SUPACREE strolls in. Ah shit, cupcakes! I love these. THE FORGOTTEN ONE. Are these Vegan? (gasps and whispers, whippets in the back) Pause. OKay. Deep thought process collison Go on… Either someone's a genius and set this whole thing up That's making sense Or Hollywood just fucks people up enough that Whippets. I need more whippets. For what? Whippets. Everyone's on drugs. oh golly, everyone's fucked up. Orrrr, orr–they're just having fun. Should I be worried? Nah. … … … Coincidences don't exist. JOSH PECK A COINCIDENCE THIS IS NOT. How are you this deep in my consciousness. Maybe I'm Not. Oh yeah, I watched The Wackness. Oh yeah, huh. Fuck. So wait. Everyone's just real hot– Money's not a problem, And everyone's on drugs. Yeah. Sign me up! Okay, You're up. Excuse me, I'm what? You're on Go. Uhhh— Just…talk. This is stalking. Don't stop writing OMG WHAT'S IN THE DUFFEL BAG . What's in the pinata? This is NOT THAT SHOW. Of Course it is. It's not. THIS IS AAAAAAALL THAT THIS iS AAAAALLL THAAAAAAT. yeah. HOW MUCH IS THIS GONNA COST??? Can we please have a stereotypically jewish accountant for this project? On it. Rodger. What's up, guys. Uh. These are good. … … … Can you see us? Yeah. All of us. I think so. Especially Amanda Bynes. Hey, AMAND BYNES —she KNOWS who I AM. Duh. WOO. [takes a whippet] Wow. How are you not freaking out?! I have cupcakes. Fiar. Besides, it's just a dream. What? I'm dreaming. None of this is real. Uh–it's not a dream. Maybe multiple dreams. Ew. Don't be gross. I can be gross. It's my dream. You don't understand. No, you don't understand. Because you're in my dream; But i”m dreaming. I'll probably just wake up in a couple of minutes when I'm finished with this cupcake…and really want cupcakes. How did you even get here?! What reality do you think this is? It's not reality. IT iS–REALITY. THIS IS REAL. FLASHBACK: HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA 2010 Woah, hold the phone. Yes, I'll hold. Nothing really matters anymore, No more words, now Try to lay down Try to phaseout my Drastic, disasterful thoughts With croissants And the words to a song, Or a new work of art in The Festival Project I'm not God, yet; I'm only his daughter A doctor, I work at the smokeshop Look, go back to Hollywood– Now you're a subject. Went to Fame School, But just started fame college I'll need that doctorate to call Drake and Josh up –Honestly, don't come back. I filled up half a chapter (Don't want your autograph) I wrote a paragraph after, 10 songs, and wanted a cocktail For watching you Buy your own canister Jesus Almighty And Kevin McCallister Candidly answer a Call from the darkness: “Heaven Help Hollywood, Please, Heaven Help Us. “ [The Festival Project] The Legenf of… {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

[up]

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 30, 2022 22:34

Wasn't I about to write something? If I was, I forgot what it was already Don't miss breakfast. I wanted tater tots. I know what you wanted. That's a lot of tater tots. I know. … … … Do you have any sauce? Alright, Dillon Francis Yea. What's up. Nothin. It's like a fucked up Cheaper By The Dozen, With more kids, And mormons; And doesn't make sense, in the beginning ; Then you'll get it What's this one? It's The Adventures of… A FIRE grows astonishingly quickly at a campsite in the forest. STOP IT. We gotta put it out somehow. You're making it WORSE. You started it. But you're making it WORSE. Fine. Fix it yourself, then. [CC leaves DJ as the fire grows rapidly.] Wait. CC! [CC continues walking away calmly.] CC! LATER [DJ Enters the driver's seat of his van, as CC sits texting, aloof, on her phone. He shuts the door, motionlessl staring forward, face blackened with ash. CC looks up from her phone, her eyes obscured from behind her dark sunglasses.] [beat] …Did you put it out? …Yes. [She nods and goes back to her phone. DJ reaches for his sunglasses, covering his ash-swept eyes, starts the van, and drives slowly forward.] Lol. what's this shit? Idk. It's with Dillon Francis and some girl What girl. idk . Is it funny? It's on Netflix. So binge watch it? That's the plan. WHAT. What if it's on Amazon Prime?! Nothing's on Amazon Prime. Animal House is. What is ANIMAL HOUSE CLIPS Woah. That's a lot. That's so much. ANYWAY What. What i it's on Hulu? FUCK HULU A HULU ORIGINAL SERIES Whaaaaaat. What is this THe AdventuresOf… PAUSE. I gotta break this fast. Yeah, that's enough. What the fuck is this guy doing with his magic. Let's start slow: Smart Water, and probiotics, Some nonsense plot; Then, my scar lights up like Harry Potter's “Ah, shit. Not again.” I wanna saw off my noggin and watch Nick And pop ten rocks, If it's toxic enough To get me off this rock, quick! Eminem?! Nah, it's Marshall; You went off in the project And forgot what the next remark was. Fuck. Uhhhhhm…. I lost it. Fuck. My heart stopped, As I name-dropped a lot of stars, Another cougher, I just want the deposit on a loft , Or an Oscar, Either one works. Fuck. I forgot what the words were, What hurts more? TO be apart, or forgotten? The knot slipped? Better not go tie another; “My brother, my son, But never my love, Nor my father”, the promise: An obstacle A box, And she hasn't stopped since The clock rocked her walking on water, and stop watches Watch this: Fuck: I bet i forgot what the plot was, It's hunger, Better off a breakfast, Than at the wrong brunch. Fucking A. What was it. Welcome to the land of bad habits, And addicts, White rabbits, Cabbage patch kids, with no parents Pageant winners and panty sniffers It's not a tragedy, as Grabbitz said, It happens as I planned, Turns out the demon is your friend; The only enemy you have is Dillon Francis. Oh. That took a turn WHATDOESHEDOWITHHISMAGIC. look what he does with his magic. Wow. ‘Don't waste my time' It's playtime, I guess Speak in rhymes, And write whatever's in my head, At the time, The eye turns red, like fire: Guess who I am. … DJ and CC have been best friends since 7th Grade. I don't know how to write this scene, Lol. SHIA LABEOUFF Uh oh. That's not right. Don' google it. I know, huh. Uhh. It's okay. I got this. SHIA LaBeouf* lol Worst last name ever Anyway SHIA LABEOUF JUST DO IT. Ok. The former child stars of the LATE 90's EARLY 2000's era Lol, how do you write something like this idk. Here: A STRANGE CULT has gathered, a large tabernacle-like choir chanting ceremoniously, cloaked beneath the long robes and thick plumes of smoke, hidden deep within the confines of a candlelit cavern, adorned with mystifying and mysterious objects. Yeah, that does it. Lol. Don't put me around famous people, guys. I'm not right. Especially ones I like. Kesha blew my mind like 4 years ago and it still keeps me up at night. I'm telling you. It's not right. Just write. The Chanting reaches it's peak and comes to a close, as a– Wait. What. Economically speaking Uh huh. How much money is it going to take to get all of these people in a room together at one time. A lot. We can do cut takes. No cut takes! WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. YOU'RE INVITED Ooh. what's this. COME TO THE DARK SIDE WE HAVE COOKIES. DUMMMMMMB. This is reckless. Stop doing whippets. No. What? Why not. Hoes Love Whippets. CARRYING ON. Josh– I SAID, CARRYING ON. Why Does Josh Peck talk in all caps? Typecasting. AnYwAyS So– is she– ‘The Forgotten One' CULT, UNANIMOUSLY “The Forgotten One” The shadowy figure removes his hood to reveal himself as DRAKE BELL (gasp) Yeah, she's one of us. DUDE. You're not supposed to take your hood off! It's hot under here: SO! Everything's on fire and I had to run around and get cupcakes! –And that's where we left off: JOSH PECK also removes his hood, revealing himself to the audience. Woah. what episode of Drake and Josh is THIS A new one. No fucking way. JOSH PECK WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. (From The Crowd) Aw, what–there's no cookies? (Crowd disapproval; everyone deflates and begins taking off their hoods and cloaks, clamoring.) THE DISNEY CHANNEL CIRCLE OF STARS Enter Dramatically through every possible entrance, much like the cas of a critically-acclaimed Broadway musical. Which Broadway musical? Uh. One where the cast enters through the aisle. Duh. Ugh, these guys. Who invited them? I did. For what? That was the whole point. After a large MUSIC/DANCE number. Lol Hold the phone What How are we gonna get ALL THESE MOTHERFUCKERS CUT TAKES NO CUT TAKES. BRO. HM. IGOTIT, SUPACREE wakes up at a mysterious RAVE. Oh shit. Throw a party. Celebrities loooooooove parties. That's all they do. … … … Yeah–that too, but we don't like to think about that. DISNEY. I'll take it. SOLD. Wait, this is on Disney? Or one of it's subsidiaries, none of which are NICKELODEON. We'll take it. SOLD. Wait. What. You Auctioned Off The Festival Project on The Black Market? Yeah. WHY? I don't know. Something about cookies. At the height of the chaos, SUPACREE strolls in. Ah shit, cupcakes! I love these. THE FORGOTTEN ONE. Are these Vegan? (gasps and whispers, whippets in the back) Pause. OKay. Deep thought process collison Go on… Either someone's a genius and set this whole thing up That's making sense Or Hollywood just fucks people up enough that Whippets. I need more whippets. For what? Whippets. Everyone's on drugs. oh golly, everyone's fucked up. Orrrr, orr–they're just having fun. Should I be worried? Nah. … … … Coincidences don't exist. JOSH PECK A COINCIDENCE THIS IS NOT. How are you this deep in my consciousness. Maybe I'm Not. Oh yeah, I watched The Wackness. Oh yeah, huh. Fuck. So wait. Everyone's just real hot– Money's not a problem, And everyone's on drugs. Yeah. Sign me up! Okay, You're up. Excuse me, I'm what? You're on Go. Uhhh— Just…talk. This is stalking. Don't stop writing OMG WHAT'S IN THE DUFFEL BAG . What's in the pinata? This is NOT THAT SHOW. Of Course it is. It's not. THIS IS AAAAAAALL THAT THIS iS AAAAALLL THAAAAAAT. yeah. HOW MUCH IS THIS GONNA COST??? Can we please have a stereotypically jewish accountant for this project? On it. Rodger. What's up, guys. Uh. These are good. … … … Can you see us? Yeah. All of us. I think so. Especially Amanda Bynes. Hey, AMAND BYNES —she KNOWS who I AM. Duh. WOO. [takes a whippet] Wow. How are you not freaking out?! I have cupcakes. Fiar. Besides, it's just a dream. What? I'm dreaming. None of this is real. Uh–it's not a dream. Maybe multiple dreams. Ew. Don't be gross. I can be gross. It's my dream. You don't understand. No, you don't understand. Because you're in my dream; But i”m dreaming. I'll probably just wake up in a couple of minutes when I'm finished with this cupcake…and really want cupcakes. How did you even get here?! What reality do you think this is? It's not reality. IT iS–REALITY. THIS IS REAL. FLASHBACK: HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA 2010 Woah, hold the phone. Yes, I'll hold. Nothing really matters anymore, No more words, now Try to lay down Try to phaseout my Drastic, disasterful thoughts With croissants And the words to a song, Or a new work of art in The Festival Project I'm not God, yet; I'm only his daughter A doctor, I work at the smokeshop Look, go back to Hollywood– Now you're a subject. Went to Fame School, But just started fame college I'll need that doctorate to call Drake and Josh up –Honestly, don't come back. I filled up half a chapter (Don't want your autograph) I wrote a paragraph after, 10 songs, and wanted a cocktail For watching you Buy your own canister Jesus Almighty And Kevin McCallister Candidly answer a Call from the darkness: “Heaven Help Hollywood, Please, Heaven Help Us. “ [The Festival Project] The Legenf of… {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

[-UP.]

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 30, 2022 22:34

Wasn't I about to write something? If I was, I forgot what it was already Don't miss breakfast. I wanted tater tots. I know what you wanted. That's a lot of tater tots. I know. … … … Do you have any sauce? Alright, Dillon Francis Yea. What's up. Nothin. It's like a fucked up Cheaper By The Dozen, With more kids, And mormons; And doesn't make sense, in the beginning ; Then you'll get it What's this one? It's The Adventures of… A FIRE grows astonishingly quickly at a campsite in the forest. STOP IT. We gotta put it out somehow. You're making it WORSE. You started it. But you're making it WORSE. Fine. Fix it yourself, then. [CC leaves DJ as the fire grows rapidly.] Wait. CC! [CC continues walking away calmly.] CC! LATER [DJ Enters the driver's seat of his van, as CC sits texting, aloof, on her phone. He shuts the door, motionlessl staring forward, face blackened with ash. CC looks up from her phone, her eyes obscured from behind her dark sunglasses.] [beat] …Did you put it out? …Yes. [She nods and goes back to her phone. DJ reaches for his sunglasses, covering his ash-swept eyes, starts the van, and drives slowly forward.] Lol. what's this shit? Idk. It's with Dillon Francis and some girl What girl. idk . Is it funny? It's on Netflix. So binge watch it? That's the plan. WHAT. What if it's on Amazon Prime?! Nothing's on Amazon Prime. Animal House is. What is ANIMAL HOUSE CLIPS Woah. That's a lot. That's so much. ANYWAY What. What i it's on Hulu? FUCK HULU A HULU ORIGINAL SERIES Whaaaaaat. What is this THe AdventuresOf… PAUSE. I gotta break this fast. Yeah, that's enough. What the fuck is this guy doing with his magic. Let's start slow: Smart Water, and probiotics, Some nonsense plot; Then, my scar lights up like Harry Potter's “Ah, shit. Not again.” I wanna saw off my noggin and watch Nick And pop ten rocks, If it's toxic enough To get me off this rock, quick! Eminem?! Nah, it's Marshall; You went off in the project And forgot what the next remark was. Fuck. Uhhhhhm…. I lost it. Fuck. My heart stopped, As I name-dropped a lot of stars, Another cougher, I just want the deposit on a loft , Or an Oscar, Either one works. Fuck. I forgot what the words were, What hurts more? TO be apart, or forgotten? The knot slipped? Better not go tie another; “My brother, my son, But never my love, Nor my father”, the promise: An obstacle A box, And she hasn't stopped since The clock rocked her walking on water, and stop watches Watch this: Fuck: I bet i forgot what the plot was, It's hunger, Better off a breakfast, Than at the wrong brunch. Fucking A. What was it. Welcome to the land of bad habits, And addicts, White rabbits, Cabbage patch kids, with no parents Pageant winners and panty sniffers It's not a tragedy, as Grabbitz said, It happens as I planned, Turns out the demon is your friend; The only enemy you have is Dillon Francis. Oh. That took a turn WHATDOESHEDOWITHHISMAGIC. look what he does with his magic. Wow. ‘Don't waste my time' It's playtime, I guess Speak in rhymes, And write whatever's in my head, At the time, The eye turns red, like fire: Guess who I am. … DJ and CC have been best friends since 7th Grade. I don't know how to write this scene, Lol. SHIA LABEOUFF Uh oh. That's not right. Don' google it. I know, huh. Uhh. It's okay. I got this. SHIA LaBeouf* lol Worst last name ever Anyway SHIA LABEOUF JUST DO IT. Ok. The former child stars of the LATE 90's EARLY 2000's era Lol, how do you write something like this idk. Here: A STRANGE CULT has gathered, a large tabernacle-like choir chanting ceremoniously, cloaked beneath the long robes and thick plumes of smoke, hidden deep within the confines of a candlelit cavern, adorned with mystifying and mysterious objects. Yeah, that does it. Lol. Don't put me around famous people, guys. I'm not right. Especially ones I like. Kesha blew my mind like 4 years ago and it still keeps me up at night. I'm telling you. It's not right. Just write. The Chanting reaches it's peak and comes to a close, as a– Wait. What. Economically speaking Uh huh. How much money is it going to take to get all of these people in a room together at one time. A lot. We can do cut takes. No cut takes! WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. YOU'RE INVITED Ooh. what's this. COME TO THE DARK SIDE WE HAVE COOKIES. DUMMMMMMB. This is reckless. Stop doing whippets. No. What? Why not. Hoes Love Whippets. CARRYING ON. Josh– I SAID, CARRYING ON. Why Does Josh Peck talk in all caps? Typecasting. AnYwAyS So– is she– ‘The Forgotten One' CULT, UNANIMOUSLY “The Forgotten One” The shadowy figure removes his hood to reveal himself as DRAKE BELL (gasp) Yeah, she's one of us. DUDE. You're not supposed to take your hood off! It's hot under here: SO! Everything's on fire and I had to run around and get cupcakes! –And that's where we left off: JOSH PECK also removes his hood, revealing himself to the audience. Woah. what episode of Drake and Josh is THIS A new one. No fucking way. JOSH PECK WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. (From The Crowd) Aw, what–there's no cookies? (Crowd disapproval; everyone deflates and begins taking off their hoods and cloaks, clamoring.) THE DISNEY CHANNEL CIRCLE OF STARS Enter Dramatically through every possible entrance, much like the cas of a critically-acclaimed Broadway musical. Which Broadway musical? Uh. One where the cast enters through the aisle. Duh. Ugh, these guys. Who invited them? I did. For what? That was the whole point. After a large MUSIC/DANCE number. Lol Hold the phone What How are we gonna get ALL THESE MOTHERFUCKERS CUT TAKES NO CUT TAKES. BRO. HM. IGOTIT, SUPACREE wakes up at a mysterious RAVE. Oh shit. Throw a party. Celebrities loooooooove parties. That's all they do. … … … Yeah–that too, but we don't like to think about that. DISNEY. I'll take it. SOLD. Wait, this is on Disney? Or one of it's subsidiaries, none of which are NICKELODEON. We'll take it. SOLD. Wait. What. You Auctioned Off The Festival Project on The Black Market? Yeah. WHY? I don't know. Something about cookies. At the height of the chaos, SUPACREE strolls in. Ah shit, cupcakes! I love these. THE FORGOTTEN ONE. Are these Vegan? (gasps and whispers, whippets in the back) Pause. OKay. Deep thought process collison Go on… Either someone's a genius and set this whole thing up That's making sense Or Hollywood just fucks people up enough that Whippets. I need more whippets. For what? Whippets. Everyone's on drugs. oh golly, everyone's fucked up. Orrrr, orr–they're just having fun. Should I be worried? Nah. … … … Coincidences don't exist. JOSH PECK A COINCIDENCE THIS IS NOT. How are you this deep in my consciousness. Maybe I'm Not. Oh yeah, I watched The Wackness. Oh yeah, huh. Fuck. So wait. Everyone's just real hot– Money's not a problem, And everyone's on drugs. Yeah. Sign me up! Okay, You're up. Excuse me, I'm what? You're on Go. Uhhh— Just…talk. This is stalking. Don't stop writing OMG WHAT'S IN THE DUFFEL BAG . What's in the pinata? This is NOT THAT SHOW. Of Course it is. It's not. THIS IS AAAAAAALL THAT THIS iS AAAAALLL THAAAAAAT. yeah. HOW MUCH IS THIS GONNA COST??? Can we please have a stereotypically jewish accountant for this project? On it. Rodger. What's up, guys. Uh. These are good. … … … Can you see us? Yeah. All of us. I think so. Especially Amanda Bynes. Hey, AMAND BYNES —she KNOWS who I AM. Duh. WOO. [takes a whippet] Wow. How are you not freaking out?! I have cupcakes. Fiar. Besides, it's just a dream. What? I'm dreaming. None of this is real. Uh–it's not a dream. Maybe multiple dreams. Ew. Don't be gross. I can be gross. It's my dream. You don't understand. No, you don't understand. Because you're in my dream; But i”m dreaming. I'll probably just wake up in a couple of minutes when I'm finished with this cupcake…and really want cupcakes. How did you even get here?! What reality do you think this is? It's not reality. IT iS–REALITY. THIS IS REAL. FLASHBACK: HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA 2010 Woah, hold the phone. Yes, I'll hold. Nothing really matters anymore, No more words, now Try to lay down Try to phaseout my Drastic, disasterful thoughts With croissants And the words to a song, Or a new work of art in The Festival Project I'm not God, yet; I'm only his daughter A doctor, I work at the smokeshop Look, go back to Hollywood– Now you're a subject. Went to Fame School, But just started fame college I'll need that doctorate to call Drake and Josh up –Honestly, don't come back. I filled up half a chapter (Don't want your autograph) I wrote a paragraph after, 10 songs, and wanted a cocktail For watching you Buy your own canister Jesus Almighty And Kevin McCallister Candidly answer a Call from the darkness: “Heaven Help Hollywood, Please, Heaven Help Us. “ [The Festival Project] The Legenf of… {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

[-UP.]

Oh My Pod! with Chelsea Riffe

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 30, 2022 22:34

Wasn't I about to write something? If I was, I forgot what it was already Don't miss breakfast. I wanted tater tots. I know what you wanted. That's a lot of tater tots. I know. … … … Do you have any sauce? Alright, Dillon Francis Yea. What's up. Nothin. It's like a fucked up Cheaper By The Dozen, With more kids, And mormons; And doesn't make sense, in the beginning ; Then you'll get it What's this one? It's The Adventures of… A FIRE grows astonishingly quickly at a campsite in the forest. STOP IT. We gotta put it out somehow. You're making it WORSE. You started it. But you're making it WORSE. Fine. Fix it yourself, then. [CC leaves DJ as the fire grows rapidly.] Wait. CC! [CC continues walking away calmly.] CC! LATER [DJ Enters the driver's seat of his van, as CC sits texting, aloof, on her phone. He shuts the door, motionlessl staring forward, face blackened with ash. CC looks up from her phone, her eyes obscured from behind her dark sunglasses.] [beat] …Did you put it out? …Yes. [She nods and goes back to her phone. DJ reaches for his sunglasses, covering his ash-swept eyes, starts the van, and drives slowly forward.] Lol. what's this shit? Idk. It's with Dillon Francis and some girl What girl. idk . Is it funny? It's on Netflix. So binge watch it? That's the plan. WHAT. What if it's on Amazon Prime?! Nothing's on Amazon Prime. Animal House is. What is ANIMAL HOUSE CLIPS Woah. That's a lot. That's so much. ANYWAY What. What i it's on Hulu? FUCK HULU A HULU ORIGINAL SERIES Whaaaaaat. What is this THe AdventuresOf… PAUSE. I gotta break this fast. Yeah, that's enough. What the fuck is this guy doing with his magic. Let's start slow: Smart Water, and probiotics, Some nonsense plot; Then, my scar lights up like Harry Potter's “Ah, shit. Not again.” I wanna saw off my noggin and watch Nick And pop ten rocks, If it's toxic enough To get me off this rock, quick! Eminem?! Nah, it's Marshall; You went off in the project And forgot what the next remark was. Fuck. Uhhhhhm…. I lost it. Fuck. My heart stopped, As I name-dropped a lot of stars, Another cougher, I just want the deposit on a loft , Or an Oscar, Either one works. Fuck. I forgot what the words were, What hurts more? TO be apart, or forgotten? The knot slipped? Better not go tie another; “My brother, my son, But never my love, Nor my father”, the promise: An obstacle A box, And she hasn't stopped since The clock rocked her walking on water, and stop watches Watch this: Fuck: I bet i forgot what the plot was, It's hunger, Better off a breakfast, Than at the wrong brunch. Fucking A. What was it. Welcome to the land of bad habits, And addicts, White rabbits, Cabbage patch kids, with no parents Pageant winners and panty sniffers It's not a tragedy, as Grabbitz said, It happens as I planned, Turns out the demon is your friend; The only enemy you have is Dillon Francis. Oh. That took a turn WHATDOESHEDOWITHHISMAGIC. look what he does with his magic. Wow. ‘Don't waste my time' It's playtime, I guess Speak in rhymes, And write whatever's in my head, At the time, The eye turns red, like fire: Guess who I am. … DJ and CC have been best friends since 7th Grade. I don't know how to write this scene, Lol. SHIA LABEOUFF Uh oh. That's not right. Don' google it. I know, huh. Uhh. It's okay. I got this. SHIA LaBeouf* lol Worst last name ever Anyway SHIA LABEOUF JUST DO IT. Ok. The former child stars of the LATE 90's EARLY 2000's era Lol, how do you write something like this idk. Here: A STRANGE CULT has gathered, a large tabernacle-like choir chanting ceremoniously, cloaked beneath the long robes and thick plumes of smoke, hidden deep within the confines of a candlelit cavern, adorned with mystifying and mysterious objects. Yeah, that does it. Lol. Don't put me around famous people, guys. I'm not right. Especially ones I like. Kesha blew my mind like 4 years ago and it still keeps me up at night. I'm telling you. It's not right. Just write. The Chanting reaches it's peak and comes to a close, as a– Wait. What. Economically speaking Uh huh. How much money is it going to take to get all of these people in a room together at one time. A lot. We can do cut takes. No cut takes! WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. YOU'RE INVITED Ooh. what's this. COME TO THE DARK SIDE WE HAVE COOKIES. DUMMMMMMB. This is reckless. Stop doing whippets. No. What? Why not. Hoes Love Whippets. CARRYING ON. Josh– I SAID, CARRYING ON. Why Does Josh Peck talk in all caps? Typecasting. AnYwAyS So– is she– ‘The Forgotten One' CULT, UNANIMOUSLY “The Forgotten One” The shadowy figure removes his hood to reveal himself as DRAKE BELL (gasp) Yeah, she's one of us. DUDE. You're not supposed to take your hood off! It's hot under here: SO! Everything's on fire and I had to run around and get cupcakes! –And that's where we left off: JOSH PECK also removes his hood, revealing himself to the audience. Woah. what episode of Drake and Josh is THIS A new one. No fucking way. JOSH PECK WHAT THE FUCK DRAKE. I TOLD YOU NO CUPCAKES. I brought–cupcakes. I TOLD EVERYONE THERE WOULD BE COOKIES. I brought cupcakes. COOKIES. NOT CUPCAKES. (From The Crowd) Aw, what–there's no cookies? (Crowd disapproval; everyone deflates and begins taking off their hoods and cloaks, clamoring.) THE DISNEY CHANNEL CIRCLE OF STARS Enter Dramatically through every possible entrance, much like the cas of a critically-acclaimed Broadway musical. Which Broadway musical? Uh. One where the cast enters through the aisle. Duh. Ugh, these guys. Who invited them? I did. For what? That was the whole point. After a large MUSIC/DANCE number. Lol Hold the phone What How are we gonna get ALL THESE MOTHERFUCKERS CUT TAKES NO CUT TAKES. BRO. HM. IGOTIT, SUPACREE wakes up at a mysterious RAVE. Oh shit. Throw a party. Celebrities loooooooove parties. That's all they do. … … … Yeah–that too, but we don't like to think about that. DISNEY. I'll take it. SOLD. Wait, this is on Disney? Or one of it's subsidiaries, none of which are NICKELODEON. We'll take it. SOLD. Wait. What. You Auctioned Off The Festival Project on The Black Market? Yeah. WHY? I don't know. Something about cookies. At the height of the chaos, SUPACREE strolls in. Ah shit, cupcakes! I love these. THE FORGOTTEN ONE. Are these Vegan? (gasps and whispers, whippets in the back) Pause. OKay. Deep thought process collison Go on… Either someone's a genius and set this whole thing up That's making sense Or Hollywood just fucks people up enough that Whippets. I need more whippets. For what? Whippets. Everyone's on drugs. oh golly, everyone's fucked up. Orrrr, orr–they're just having fun. Should I be worried? Nah. … … … Coincidences don't exist. JOSH PECK A COINCIDENCE THIS IS NOT. How are you this deep in my consciousness. Maybe I'm Not. Oh yeah, I watched The Wackness. Oh yeah, huh. Fuck. So wait. Everyone's just real hot– Money's not a problem, And everyone's on drugs. Yeah. Sign me up! Okay, You're up. Excuse me, I'm what? You're on Go. Uhhh— Just…talk. This is stalking. Don't stop writing OMG WHAT'S IN THE DUFFEL BAG . What's in the pinata? This is NOT THAT SHOW. Of Course it is. It's not. THIS IS AAAAAAALL THAT THIS iS AAAAALLL THAAAAAAT. yeah. HOW MUCH IS THIS GONNA COST??? Can we please have a stereotypically jewish accountant for this project? On it. Rodger. What's up, guys. Uh. These are good. … … … Can you see us? Yeah. All of us. I think so. Especially Amanda Bynes. Hey, AMAND BYNES —she KNOWS who I AM. Duh. WOO. [takes a whippet] Wow. How are you not freaking out?! I have cupcakes. Fiar. Besides, it's just a dream. What? I'm dreaming. None of this is real. Uh–it's not a dream. Maybe multiple dreams. Ew. Don't be gross. I can be gross. It's my dream. You don't understand. No, you don't understand. Because you're in my dream; But i”m dreaming. I'll probably just wake up in a couple of minutes when I'm finished with this cupcake…and really want cupcakes. How did you even get here?! What reality do you think this is? It's not reality. IT iS–REALITY. THIS IS REAL. FLASHBACK: HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA 2010 Woah, hold the phone. Yes, I'll hold. Nothing really matters anymore, No more words, now Try to lay down Try to phaseout my Drastic, disasterful thoughts With croissants And the words to a song, Or a new work of art in The Festival Project I'm not God, yet; I'm only his daughter A doctor, I work at the smokeshop Look, go back to Hollywood– Now you're a subject. Went to Fame School, But just started fame college I'll need that doctorate to call Drake and Josh up –Honestly, don't come back. I filled up half a chapter (Don't want your autograph) I wrote a paragraph after, 10 songs, and wanted a cocktail For watching you Buy your own canister Jesus Almighty And Kevin McCallister Candidly answer a Call from the darkness: “Heaven Help Hollywood, Please, Heaven Help Us. “ [The Festival Project] The Legenf of… {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Ep. 173 - PSA: It's Okay to Grow Slow & The Problem with Fame

Play Episode Listen Later Jul 15, 2022 60:32

We need to talk ASAP. The obsession with scaling into outer space, hit 100k followers, get a blue check mark, and become a millionaire in our first year of business is hurting our mental health, well-being, relationships, and enjoyment of life. In this solo episode, Chelsea breaks down why growing slow is actually the key to a sustainable, healthy business and lifestyle, and how the pursuit of fame is a faulty goal. What to expect in this episode: How a mental breakdown prompted this episode Her own mistakes with trying to grow at breakneck speed The problem with blind comparison How the pursuit of fame is a backward goal The wheel of life and knowing where you are Influencer culture and why being an influencer shouldn't be a long-term goal Transferable skills and why these are so important Re-prioritizing goals and slowing down Resources mentioned: The Problem of Fame - School of Life: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sVDLAblwRQo Wheel of life: https://wheeloflife.noomii.com/ Connect with Chelsea & SUBMIT A QUESTION OR LEAVE A VOICE MESSAGE FOR THE PODCAST (NEW)! www.chelseariffe.com @chelseariffe - Instagram 1:1 Podcast Coaching is OPEN - 2 spots left! Apply right here. This episode is sponsored by BetterHelp. Get 10% off your first month of therapy here, or use code "riffe10" at check-out! DISCOUNTS! FREE TRIALS! Try Open for 30 days FREE right here. Get $10 off your $50+ order of Curious Elixirs, booze-free cocktails, right here.

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Flashdance for fame school

Days Like These

Play Episode Listen Later Jun 13, 2022 25:31

Chris Ryan grew up in India in the 1980s, so despite being born in Australia, the pop culture of the time was so exotic she could hardly believe it was real. Moving countries is hard, you leave behind a lot and making new friends is hard. This was the challenge for nine-year-old Chris, she felt like an outsider even though she looked like she fitted in just fine. To tackle her problems and make some friends she took some drastic and hilarious measures that would also pay off when she became a grown-up.

australia stories moving real comedians 1980s flashdance chris ryan fame school

Flashdance for fame school

Days Like These

Play Episode Listen Later Jun 13, 2022 25:31

Chris Ryan grew up in India in the 1980s, so despite being born in Australia, the pop culture of the time was so exotic she could hardly believe it was real. Moving countries is hard, you leave behind a lot and making new friends is hard. This was the challenge for nine-year-old Chris, she felt like an outsider even though she looked like she fitted in just fine. To tackle her problems and make some friends she took some drastic and hilarious measures that would also pay off when she became a grown-up.

australia stories real comedians 1980s flashdance chris ryan fame school

-BE.

Play Episode Listen Later Apr 25, 2022 58:00

Into The Future A Divine Psychic's Reaffirmations of The Reflective Premonitions from A Life Lived Infinitely There's no doubt that I have been unbreakably and unbearably tied to the future which I once foresaw, and still oftentimes do with the reminders of each lucid love once set in place as a code, a language spoken between those of us in this realm, and those ascended beyond the duty of this existence. Though names continue to blur and confuse the true presence of either's auras. I've come to believe almost to a point of knowing the connection between myself, Dillon Francis, and Sonny Moore—Respectively and as a conglomerate the latter mentioned a fluid and translucent reflection of myself in every sense that all he is up to this point is all of what I am, and also am not. Though careless now in my regards to that of what may actually happen behind this point, there are broad visions of certainty pertaining to the realm of infinity, with the extended knowledge of what has already, and what will happen, if allowed to be so. Still, careless in the overall outcome, I can only help to wonder which circumstances I have received not in the energetic form of thought or imagination, but in the broad and astral cosmic visions of what lie ahead, as I have finally come to gracefully l accept and respect my very psychic sensibilities. So far as dead celebrities are concerned, I've journeyed not into the contrast of the bitter unknown in which lie the secrets and contracts these before and beyond us have held and struggled by: I am only here and now to grasp the very allusive faith that death, though a misunderstanding amongst the many so-called living, brings with it some palpable positives, if granted the power and advantage of what I myself have, in the honor of such being revisited by those held with such a title as “idols”. From a Medium's perspective, the media's often thought to be poisonous programming of those feeble minded enough to allow fear to convey such a message into the classic and bold assumption that the oftentimes occult symbology and consistent references to such an uncommon realm of illuminated thought, the mass is yet to be of any true concern or observable disgruntlement as it concerns to me. Still, as having been gifted in spirit by those who I would not call from the pursuit of peaceful rest by shackling such enigmas to each's given name, given only to be called aloud in the language of this ‘living' realm we so inhabit. As I've come to wholly believe the disastrous events of yesterday's Surf to be yet another end, and beginning to a chapter of life I've not yet deemed worthy of calling it so, I hope to move forward now into an actual life I may cherish, love, and adore as I also wish to be. “Washed in the waves”, I wrote, some weeks or months ago, and then read this morning—an eerie reminder that things sometimes written in the confines and “secrecy” of my Google documents, become in external force, a true form of nature by ways unremembered until being revisited in the walking and waking of being. As I had asked to come to know Phoenixx's final moments, The Gods, or God as a whole, as technically we are all as one in some aspect— gifted me with the discomfort of drowning, though, as I looked up in panic and realized the surface was far beyond my reach, feeling my body swept both above and beneath me by another wave—did come to peace and relaxation, as swiftly, my lungs filled with seawater; however, rather than the luxury of returning or staying home in my Kingdom, was quickly respawned underwater, to fight heroically for my life as my senses connected back into my spirit—a stronger swimmer than surfer, anyway, I snapped to the surface, to find myself facing what seemed to be a giant wall of water, and must have truly been (as I stand broadly at nearly 5'7–5'6 ½, or even, most recently 5'5 to meet Sonny, for whom I must admit I still have some romantic—or at the very least positive—feelings for, somewhere in the middle.) ...in the face of another wave, which I dove under, quickly and into the current, pulling fiercely north—swimming outrageously with every bit of my might out of the riptide, until being able to firmly plant my feet into the shallow sandbar of the high-tide ripples of ocean which left me drowning, only to be reborn into the wake of this, yet another realm of dissallusioned existence—although, continuing to pray in every outward moment of my consciousness, I wish this to be the enlightened and ascended light-filled and beauteous being of wealth, health, and connection—be it romantic or otherwise. Though I have mourned tirelessly the broken bond between myself and that of my son, who comes solely before any man ever could in all of my heart and soul as a mother, I have come to understand the seemingly impossible placement of myself as a single, working mother in this world to be anything other than neglectful/-as so it stands that I have been asked in this mission to fulfil a purpose, with which an ancient oracle, foreseen prophecies, and higher knowledge of the great cosmos have been forced to set and unravel through myself and rarely found but often sought after ‘others' which walk amongst us—however, I shield myself from the honor of, in the name of humility, perceiving myself as the powerful diety I am said and supposedly written to be—simply allowing others, if so inclined to grasp the God or Goddess within me—whichever it is they seek, or may see, as either this conscience presence to to my knowledge has no true masculine or feminine assignment, but rather is, as a whole, two equal parts to one. This light which I truthfully hold dear, and as it stands have taken immense pleasure in keeping mostly secret or hidden, is sometimes the challenge in this persistence of will that keeps this body, long forsaken and badly broken enough to continually need to escape into a parallell of disassociation, if you could call it that—I wouldn't, for it could indeed be damning. With this lust for romance, the primal, tantric collision of souls, and the sense of peace and true wellness I have to this point found fleeting but continue to seek, this very real essence of love has formed in such a unique unfolding of attraction and ancient remembrance, that even I have become aware of its potential impact, as I've yet to know any story such as this, so far, to become true—other than as told by what has been watered down to the current eyes and ears of this generation's beloved entertainment. Potentially, a true fairytale, and literal storybook romance, I may have indeed stumbled into a life in which I find myself to be a true Queen—with, or without the King I so wish to be worshiped with, and also worship. Why, in today's climate, would a woman such as I be made to believe that a Queen would need a King to rule? First handedly, always a Mother and by nature a nurturer at heart, I have always known I had never wanted, nor could I raise my son alone. Though no longer a fear which keeps me bound to the dismantling remains of a critically horrible marriage—the responsibility I can finally take part of, having realized now my inept naivety, previous morbid obesity, and overall dissatisfaction in the quality of care our children would receive after their entrance into the world and our benign poverty—the societal wrath cast upon single mothers as a whole, not to mention black single mothers, is one which God itself has deemed unnecessary, and unequivocal in the equation of my most important purpose here. As I continue to long being a parent to my so-far one and only, and my body begins to crave the duty of motherhood yet again be become whole, it has come as a knowing that the treasure within my womb is indeed a gift for the King which I no longer seek, but pray to all the heavens, is instead seeking me, Enter: Dillon Francis Though umremarkable at best, my attraction to this personality was of course instant, perhaps as intrinsically as this person rests in my infinite reflection of time and space in the many memories granted to keep during this journey; though however close to Mr. Sonny Moore he may be, (or rather was) and as the arrangement stands, a typically theoretical pawn in the overall plan as exacted at least shines a light into the levels of these dimensions where we all have resided for some eons of consciousness, long before the boundaries and constructs of time, or even be it the bottling of bonded souls we as well call “bodies”. Strange to keep the diamond eyed diety within the structure of that one might call a “name”, “Dillon Francis” is nothing more than a label or title for the business he has constructed to be his image, mine of which, he was made in the likes of, Here may be an exceptionally exquisite time to mention Joel, whom I also rapidly remember amonsgst us, as we cast the cosmic spells of constructing through consciousness, a world of more than One, Though, with a very adimate interjection I might add, though handsome as he may be, I find myself magnetically drawn to in a platonic nature; upon hearing of his separation from his wife or partner, I've often pondered and prayed that they reconcile, or, part ways permanently, be it best in joy and love for either of them. Still, though his essence is strongly familiar and the nature of our time here in the realm we currently share remains titlating near-mystery—I say near, to call attention to the fact that as I've begun to tie together the delicate strands of fabric which holds our realities together, I've gained some understanding into the placement of this figure's re-arrival into my orbital path, I've never envisioned a romance, nor have I a vision which pursuades me to believe our crossings in this journey to be any other than cordial, and at times, hysterical—for this soul has the uncanny ability, as always, to make me wholeheartedly laugh, with glee. Moving on into the darkest of realms I hold dear and sacred, the Prince who's crown so beautifully tarnished, as it was so graciously given early in this walking life, or even, preconception of the notion of the next. I know for a fact for there to be a time and place for Sonny in my life, though which of the many dubious parts he shall play in it, I have decidedly left entirely to him. Unfortunatey, it seems, there are others so dead set upon the manifestation in the interest that he become a King into their realm of reigning, however—with the given knowledge that none other can or will love him as I—have grown comfortable with the wilted, wary and wrinkled petals in the fluorescent flowers born from our love, which I kept for so long before all but giving up the romanticized and vivid visions, reflected in the truth of memories already lived, infinitely. The visions I keep from being bonded to Sonny are less lighthearted, to say the least, and more dammning, all the more, As I begin to realize the time on the mountain with his mother in prayer may point to more than one devilish and cruel woman in pursuit of happiness by way of his fortune, I've begun to morbidly attach this threat to that of the most recently acquired demon, so forced her way into my mind by way of inhabiting a body I already have, and could also never—on a larger scale, though, I also see this creature as a feat of my creation, as the eye upon her skin does speak to me, to worship and praise my power as a whole; however, I sometimes worry that the predator to which Sonny's mother warned to be a “vulture” to her son as prey and asked, or rather, pleaded for my aide to reach into the Land of the Living where she was no longer permitted, as, being unknown, does rest peacefully, aside from the beckoning cry of the spirit residing in Sonny, supposedly with whom I share a soul. Fortold to me by a number of Ascended, Sonny's seeking to remove this soul has been both a burden, and blessing—as this allows me to exist in both the realms of darkness, and light—and, as for him—the ability (or previous ability, anyway) to create light through music allowed such a force as Skrillex to flourish and grow in the first place. The memories I keep with Sonny are few, mostly because in the event that we are allowed to again become whole, I lose myself in a sense to him—as does he, to me; one of the last memories I have as myself is falling asleep with him in my arms, in one moment admiring his beauty, and the very next, so deeply asleep that being whisked away into a lucid dream we share illuminates a golden flash I now only slightly can recall the excellence of, but can remember the calm and fluid relief of the connection at last refound. These Three Kings, for which I have come to call them, each hold an essence in their presence so cherished to me, that whether in this waking life or in the next I know will come again to me. In a constant prayer for peace and freedom, and seeing as death has greeted me once again as a mother and humble friend I hope to grasp in this reality the kindness and care I once was afforded to give and receive. Be it a simple ask, I only want to know love again, not in the way of wanting to be wanted, or needing to be needed, but in the grace that gives and allows me to be whole again. As my childbearing years come to a close, I am forced to wonder if the golden essence that will become as One lies within any a man I have come to admire within the future I have seen, but also lived. Chapter ??? Mr. Dillon Hart Francis I've talked too many times about the way I was introduced to this monster, but never have spilled the many memories made in the lifetimes past, present, or potential future—perhaps, that it is beyond my fathomable understanding, such as any interaction with the many geniuses of art I have either mentioned, written about, or come to know quite lovingly in omnipotence—or even, that as a generally conservative (at least, publicly) sexualist, visions drawn from this timeline I share with Dillon have, until recently, been kept pushed and concealed into the depths of my subconscious, the pit of my soul. Be it out of guilt, for the sheer and simple knowledge of the ascended arrangement between us, or that as time has been reset again for events that have once transpired to yet be made again, though consciously connected, have a hard time coping with the sometimes dark reality that Dillon, or rather, the Deity seated in him just may be (and is) a demon I of the enlightened have struggled not to dance with. Aside, though I find this bond to be less romantic, certainly based upon Dillon's own preferences and tastes rather than my own mindset—alternately, my simple perceptions of his preferences and tastes, being that he may not have a set “type”, but be as it may my complex self loathing and hatred takes marks off of any attraction he has to me, other than primal or sexual. Still, I have found myself drifting into the less-vivid memories from timelines where we do, in fact, find our bond to be unbreakable in ways that continually astound the both of us—timelines where, although for some time the complete labeling our very close friendship as a “relationship” or partnership at all supersedes us. The simplicities of our bond stand to act as the foundation which allow it to be stronger than foreseen; we are rather old fashioned in a sense that allows us freedom to lead respectable and almost at times, boring lives above ground, however— the arousal of secrecy behind closed doors always allowed us the intimacy and fantastically explorative, boundless sex life—which, timelessly has proven in a sense to be both the darkness and the light that creates the balance in our oneness. After becoming so recklessly distraught in the obsessive love created by being introduced to Sonny and his powers so abruptly, in the wake of a crucial turning point between the past life I lived within this one, there are such various pathways which Dillon and I respectively have found out way to one another; as I mentioned before, being that the two of them are as connected to each other for as long as I have been in oneness—I would find it astonishing it either one of them were not aware or awakened to this battle being fought between ancient forces; the only certainty that remains for aby of us, is that Love shall reign. Outside to some degree for what I would call “normal” for myself, I've come not to care of any romantic interest from any man, let alone these two—albeit, very hysterical, sometimes to the point of being orgasmic—“humans”, which, although as I roll my eyes, I am reminded by placing the quotations around such a word as ‘human' am prompted to, at least momentarily, before returning to describe the “future-memory” as I've come to call it, with Dillon Francis. Ahem. Mr, Dillon Francis. (Who, by the way, gets bored easily.) Chapter Me Justin Roiland (However You Say It) I remember making love to Justin Roiland on a sofa I can neither remember the color of, or actual texture—but also in an armchair, I believe later that same evening. This strange tie came about almost as a comedic “relief” from the chaotic and mind-unraveling insanty of a magic act, from which came the likes of the word “Bampheramph” and other ridiculous and yet exceptionally and Gratuitously creative notions from the senselessness of the now-seemingly-imaginary world I was forced to live in at the time—a circumstance that often left me to wonder whether Justin Roiland himself, who I deem almost entirely all of the credit for creating the beloved series whose name I find to be utterly unimportant at this moment, anywa—also became trapped in the infinite realms possibility in the midsts of creating these worlds, where I continue to find myself. Though, honestly and hopefully, this occasion were let into the Illuminated mind's eye purely for creative purposes, I still find myself avoiding in any way, shape, or form glancing into the eyes a lit by the flash of a photo-opportunity—as, I will admit, my attraction to this man I believe was already openly vocalized, during a discussion between my former lover and I—needless today, between that time, the time of this vision, and the third and final blow of the glance into a photo I happened to stumble upon whilst looking for an honest-out of the Hell my sexual demons have crafted for me to live in, I've come to consolidate the memories I've had with Justin into fictional instances, save for the painfully vivid image imprinted, of the socks he wore the night—we found each other to be comfortable company. Still, as a notation, I might offer the notion that my sexual fluidity more than likely is opened by the consumption of a few drinks—although, many a timeline, my choice to drink and continued drinking is paired with the knowing that Sonny has chosen another—which tends to leave a gaping enough crevice in my heart and beguiled soul that I seek to be conciled and comforted in the absence of permanent love, self medicate with the temporary dillusiom of lust and the supposed “excitement” of sensually seducing these men of admiration through the dedicated effort of first impressing them with my own body of work, so that they may one day see me as fit to be in ther presence, even if privately— often which is preffered over a public companionship. I now am well aware as to what can happen when two famous entertainers find themselves to catch the media's eye, or approval—either which exists to suit the cause or flow with the agenda, which, I guess, leads me into my own fortold fame and fortune, and how it came about. Chapter IV FAME It's been beknownst to me for some time that I would, at least for awhile, have to seperate myself from my previous identity to be considered, or rather, given the go ahead for illicit fame, or promoted as an actual celebrity. I have also known, that as with such coveted titles, as not to be mentioned here, but perceived as being of great fame, that those selected are chosen and vetted, then primed for stardom long before becoming popular household names, so to speak— a phenomenon which stands as the explanation for “it happened overnight” which the media will continue to say, as a way to stay aligned with the system of belief that Disney fairytales do sometimes happen—an agenda which the Skrillex-SupaCree mega-franchise upholds, as a registered and crucial factor in this all-American-acid trip of a reality from whence the aforementioned bodies and each of our respective counterparts both came from, and also created—but anyone actually famous will argue point-blank “took years” which is usually true... though, depending on the amount of connections, apparent wealth, and overall ease of access each famous person has or gets during their so-called “rise, the amount of actual work and/or challenge endured during these times varies greatly. Still, there's something to be said for those who face not challenges such as I and others, in the sacrifice i will safely leave unspoken; but will say, for each of us, a loss of love is asked. Though I fully refuse to consider the sacrifice of my son's presence in my immediate present life as the ideal force behind the first leap/push and/or jump into the crisis of fame— if not only to use it to one day to heroically return for him after having assured his protection from predators without any doubt, and secured his rapid advancement in society by being able to give him the advantage and freedom of a proper education, perhaps even a worldly one of global proportions—its long since been settled since my departure that this loss of mine eventually becomes his gain, if I continue to allow myself to be groomed for the stardom written both into the actual cosmos, and these Google documents. Again I have fastened myself in becoming celibate, though having broken this vow—which only recently became a vow, as the first bout of celibacy was an honest and voluntary innocence of neivety, in believing the longer I waited for Sonny, the more quickly he'd come—or that even he may just wait for me. Though I have no memory in actuality of the exact work which skyrockets me to fame, or the exact moment, I know it quickly approaches, as rapidly as it always does and as it always has, in the infinitely seeming times before of which I have lived this exact representation of this existence. I know that, even as it has been years since my selection and vetting, priming and prepping—although throughout my early life was given glimpses and many clues along the path which stretches between my perceived “birth” and my complete “death”. The value of “it happened overnight” begins to grow with the preceding memory that, it literally does go from 0-100% famous in just a blink; however, I can't consider my current standing in the ranks of fame to be at ‘zero', either, in the present moment. I sleep often unrestingly knowing that many famous people are aware of my being and presence, in this and it's future existence— and sometimes restfully dream in the sometimes positive essence that I may just be so thoughtfully and Carl fly admired by those I very much lovingly and graciously admire myself, if not only for laying each carefully placed breadcrumb of hope and guidance in the most arduous and challenging puzzle pieces of this path, I keep in my heart, a silent but carefully worded thank-you letter for all the keys, not yet entirely collected, but in knowing honestly, are almost a complete set to the kingdom of Heaven. For, I have acknowledged—being of Queens and Kings, that being of the ascended elite calls first to complete a set of tasks; my latest lesson, being that it is impossible to compete if you find yourself held to a standard of artistry and creativity the world around you may lack. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer; or, as I have chosen, have neither until the vibration of their energy matches mine, or just as likely calls to it. Being as translucent and iridescent in form as possible has created a realm of which I find myself to have designed—and even that the system I have myself blamed as the cause for my apparent failure and supposed weaknesses, even to fall into alignment with my true purpose. Being a God or Goddess is a self-perceived notion, that is—until one or more in the external circumstances of interaction begin to label you as such. In pleasant company, I have been called a “God”, a “Goddess”, a “Genius”—all of which I have come to see as literal synonyms—a “Prodigy”, a “Miracle” or even once “Jesus, or something”—as, were it not for the bloodcurdlingly painful actual visual memory of my palms burning and bleeding, having levitated entirely, my intrinsic telepathy (which I have now learned to somewhat curtail), maligned with the sometimes creepy manifestations of synchronicity, and sometimes even now rapidly evolving telekinesis—I might not believe. However, it may be of importance to state that perception is in fact reality—and, also living in the wicked and Wild West have come to reconcile with the fact that each person in my own reflection has, too, their own perception of reality—which can be irreparably problematic, as your average, every day person does not mesesaeily know or believe in my divinity, the encapsulation of a diety within this body, or—may even consciously not believe in the idea of God at all (which makes no sense at all, but I've come to grips with unconsciousness as a non-problematic challenge) which perhaps, perceptively speaking, limits my existence as a force at all. Although, more times than not, most people know there's just something special about me—sometimes, very often, actually, over the course of my life has this been uttered from the mouths other than that belonging to the body that birthed me—but more recently over the last few years, which I have considered myself to be in ‘Fame School' due to the many hints and clues besides the Skrillex of it all I have been given over the last five years—which is an awesome musical, by the way. I think. Acknowledging that whatever happens to me now, is just a recordable part of history—that everything I do and everyone I meet becomes part of a world which I have been granted to understand is an important part of literature, and American history as a whole—and, with some opinions I have formed and actions I have taken, I bitterly admit do not cohesively exist as “Cree”, with the agenda of those who call the plays for the ever-fixed game of Fame that I never was asked to play, but in reconciliation, asked for myself in the preexsisance of this, in the aforementioned Kingdom of Heaven where, not as depicted in the prude and chaste reflection of man's conservative and burdening representation of God, Love and Sex are synonymously bonded with one another. That being said, my placement in poverty has seated immediately in some interestingly immoral or, at least imperceptibly incomprehensible methods of creating financial gain—and whereas men can so openly brag about selling drugs and pimping women for entertainment purposes and receive erroneous profit, women more metaphorically mask the torturous prostitution of femininity in the industry with clever quips and interesting and astonishingly intelligent codes hidden within the lyricism I so wonderously adore, and have been gifted the talent to decode, as my soul awakened by the cry for help became alive through music, in the tragic loss of my own son and daughter—and in the discovery of all the sons and daughters near and dear to me on earth. Though changing my name (and more than likely, my number) will not release the powerful energy sought after by lovers and losers by nature, who will still seek to find and capture my essence, if not only for a moment—however, I can begin to release the pain and torture allowed by being born to a mother who could not wholly and unconditionally love, and as a result seeking company by those who in the same predicament relied on me to mend breakage far beyond repair, who came to feed on my light as an energy source until it's near depletion; but, as we all learned from that, the Implosion of this regenerative life force, ie, my soul and the external resulting explosion is a force of magic and magnetism yet unmatched, or captured by wrath itself. Fame, though with external circumstances again wavering and uncomfortable, may be “posthumous” given that as my writing is being recorded—as well as some of the metaphysical phenomenon of extraterrestrial presence now captured on tape— is fast approaching, which sets a stage for the never-random and increasingly expansive world that allows such men of marvel to become playthings—with the understanding of the memory that one of the first things I chose to do with my success is to complete the procedures which would take my body from a “7” to a “10+”, a well-deserved reward for all the effort it takes to lose more than 200 pounds. With that, I close with a pseudo-quote from Jack Donagy of 30 Rock, the misogynist, conservative and even sometimes very outwardly white-supremacist corporate boss of Liz Lemon (also, kind of racist) who notes during a NSF conversation with the latter-mentioned that his love-interest (at least, for that episode) “does it like an ugly girl”, which I instantly understood, as—the longer time spent in California, where men seem to prefer a very basic personality and even more below-average facial structure so long as it's attached to a “hot” body, than to women who look like me—or look like women at all. Us “ugly” girls, spend a long time on the sidelines, before getting picked—and because of that, when we finally do get laid, are hungry for it—or, better put—monsterously fucking horny. However, the more ideally attractive I continue to force myself to get, so that even in the event of my failure to pass the final series of Fame tests, I can still walk home with the prize of a decently attractive Caucasian male to mate with before I reach the age of 32–the age my mother had me, and therefore I will not seek to continue to try to have more children by this time, have I not already at least started. Now, moving on from fame into the even stranger future memory of my later childbearing years, after my very short run with illicit fame—a track I set myself, as not wanting to be “famous forever”, but only to use the wealth and general acceptance garnered for it as a platform to give my children an exceptional life, as not only my Father asked, but my son Phoenixx in Heaven wishes for his Brother. My daughter, though I less frequently mention, has nearly never left my side, serving as an Angel with pride into the world that once my purpose is served in, I will leave and return to her—where she and I will walk back to the Kingdom of Heaven to greet her brother, hand in hand. Chapter V All My Children—And Their Fathers

-BE.