Podcasts about febreeze

Happy Birthday month to us!! To celebrate we've got a batch of super scary listener stories about Massachusetts featuring several haunted college stories, a Febreeze scented ghost, and what may be one of the scariest sleep paralysis demons we've ever heard of. Buckle up because it's a doozy! Thanks to Patron Kristine (she/her) for submitting this month's topic. And if you need us you can catch us counting all the campus stairs and quitting jobs when they get scary… and that's why we drink! Photo Links:Phone Call from a Ghost Book___________________Work on your financial goals through Chime today. Open an account in 2 minutes at chime.com/DRINK. For a limited time only, get 35% off plus an additional 50% off your first order when you head to http://smalls.com and use code DRINK. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Find Me On Broadway 001: {VEEP} (AN OWSLA CONFIDENTIAL EXCLUSIVE} FROM GOOGLE “Veep” 2012 ‧ Sitcom ‧ 7 seasons "Politics is about people," former Sen. Selina Meyer is fond of saying. Unfortunately, the people Meyer, a charismatic leader and rising star in her party, meets after becoming vice president are nothing like she expected, but everything she was warned about. "Veep" follows the VP as she puts out political fires, juggles her public schedule and private life, and does everything within her limited powers to improve her dysfunctional relationship with the chief executive. Meyer's trusted -- and some not-so-trusted -- sidekicks include chief of staff Amy, one-time spokesperson Mike, and right-hand man Gary. “The New Adventures of Old Supacree” This is not what I intentioned. Well, what had you intentioned, dammit , how do you spell her name? Spell it? I can barely say it! “C'cx– WRONG. How would you say this name. Axel? Thas' a stupid name Not for a Rockstar. That's already a rockstar Is it? Whatever, man. The Rock must have been buzzing in some sort of special way on this day; because for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I had finally rearranged the remainder of my seemingly new surroundings— the miniature Keurig— a status symbol, of course— looked handsome on the work desk— the cat tree seemed to match, though with no actual feesible monetary income,, no actual cat, and no end in sight— the tree itself would have to be enough to lift my spirits. It was a nice cat tree, almost untouched and looking very brand new— though the couch had a few scratches, though easily hidden with the decorative use of a couple throws—at least I had a couch, and all that was left to accomplish before fully enjoying was to arrange an order of Febreeze to rid it of its previous owner's dandruff smell, and general mismanagement—besides that, it was itself almost brand new as well, and it seemed a strange new world to wake up in, after sleeping in a nearly empty apartment for 6 months; there was 6 months left in my lease, and I was getting nervous that they would try to push me out—hopefully I would find someplace better, or at the very least higher up—with the same amenities intact. Still, I was working as diligently as in could on organizing—at least the recordings, to put together the next group of projects as quickly as I could— nevermind the writing—and there was so, so much of it, I hadn't a clue what to do. I had been avoiding Rockefeller Plaza like the plague for quite sometime—it always made me nervous in a sort of way I didn't understand, in that I would pulsate and vibrate differently, and more often times than not, was upset and concerned that I had yet to go to the top—a costly feat—nor could I afford to entertain or enjoy any of the amusements at the bottom—not that I wanted to, as the older I got, and especially the longer time spent in New York, the more off putting the public and large crowds were—particularly after a remarkably disgusting respiratory infection I caught on new years, battling a crowd which became impossible to move through at all—let alone see the ball drop—and I had learned my lesson, especially after The Macy's Day parade; the crowds in New York were disgustingly unbearable, and in order to get a good view of anything, you would have to arrive nearly a full day early, and simply camp—now I knew why people packed around collapsible lawn chairs on holiday weekends. I had been blindsided by Fallon towards the end of the Macy's day parade—I hadn't any clue at all that he apparentlyboarticipated annually, as it had been years since I had watched the parade myself with my parents—and still, it was iconic—I always wanted to go. Still, and even though I had only written very little of him up to that point, I found it disasterous that as his name was announced and the float which carried him and The Roots, the best late night band on Television, not by opinion, but by fact—as I had most recently been studying and researching as thoroughly as I could all of the late night hosts since the dawning of Television in preparation to write this pilot, The TV People, short handed to TVP—and just then I recalled a dream from the night before, about Pat Kirkpatrick—for the first time in the dream world, it wasn't Fallon at all, but Pat Kirkpatrick. I couldn't remember the dream, nor could I seemingly work myself out of the rut that had been the plateau in writing the show—the show itself was heavy, with so many characters, all of which each had been given detailed and specific personalities, livelihoods, and backgrounds—in fact, I hadn't written anything in such a way since college, with detail—actually, I had never written anything so detailed at all, so character oriented that the character analyses filled entire pages of documents with excruciating vividness, as if these people were real. Well, now they were—and Fallon was neither Patrick as I was Esha, and the story has taken its own form, still however birthing an incredibly awkward and romanticized fascination and near obsession with the TV people themselves—not that I would feed it to be so. I blocked out the news outlets, the media, the alrogithm's suggestions to watch bits and pieces of Fallon, though, however, I refused, and somehow, I didn't need it. Fearfully so, he was somewhere lodged deep somewhere inside of me—and I was even sort of embarrassed to have written some of the things I had of his essence, however prophetic it seemed to be, that for about a three week period between April and May, I seemed to have gone off into a trance of sorts, writing for hours and experiencing vivid visions of this show, The TV Prople, alongside writing The Festival Project ™ And all of its markers—there were so many worlds, so many ways throughout them—and now as I had realized, I had actually been writing about Fallon nearly as long as I had been writing about Sonny, but differently. I had never of course come face to face with Fallon as I had the latter—and still—found it somewhat nessecary to hide my face beneath a mask as his float passed my viewing spaf , an elevated view from the staircase of some church, which had happened to be perfect—and although I was certain it's not as if he was looking for or at me—I had just then been writing of this Cosmic Avenger, and hadn't any idea at the time of Fallon in reality having been an actual magician, and still— with cameras everywhere, and knowing even what I had written—I didn't want to be caught by any passing cameras with any sort of blush or worse—a smile on my face as the float passed— a smile which would flash my atrocious gap-tooth and crooked smile I was sure was permanent, by then having been in the homeless shelter nearly a year. As soon as his name was announced, I promptly pulled up my mask, hiding under my sunglasses. I had already been caught on camera earlier in the parade gawking at some float—now was not the time to be caught gawking again. He, like Rob Lowe seemed impeccably professional and well-rehearsed, like a cartoon character— he was, after all, kind of a cartoon character, however now, even if it was partly due to my own writing, I took him more seriously. There was a darkness about him— a sometimes glassy-eyed, almost scary darkness that told me, even a world away, not to fuck with this dude—some kind of animal or monster I was sure we both shared, however mine more the type and category of insatable and undernourished and his more peaking its head out in the form of a multi-millionaire network puppet, which housed an untamable powerhouse of musicianship, manhood, and wit— it's true, I was finally scared of him, knowing after all what the true tears of a clown could be, a dangerous man in a uniformed suit, the Everyman for the programmed masses, and the funny man with a jig to dance, a story to tell, and an indoor life— secret realm within I was sure no one knew. I fed the monster with respect to the home, happy wife, and children— I, after all, loved love, and only wanted it for myself, leaving alone the parts of a man I had found and was sure was broken enough to have left me puzzled and star studded rather than struck as I always was, tears welling up at the thought of it that something should be mended neither I or anything I was could not fix—I continued to write, however, knowing I was walking on glass barefoot and tiptoeing on eggshells around the mass media conglomerate of the network that stood between my feeble world and his, the higher ups— and beyond: it was, after all, a level system— and now with a beautifully decorated and fully apartment, besides my mattress on the floor instead of the space saving loft bed I had wanted—though it looked just right with the piano bench as a headboard, housing my crystals and new globe, plus a colorful collection of books I could crack open as I awoke to the morning light, no longer so early but increasingly later, as I shifted into the insomniatic habits of a true DJ and music producer, still writing and reading in the mornings, however— I had to wonder what level I was truly on. My apartment looked like a home. The decor was better than I could have imagined myself even, the tasteful furnishings and modern elegance shifting my reality— no longer an empty apartment, now a fashionable hub for art and creation. I assumed the cat would come along in the winter, with any hopes that I would finish my albums by then—and also looming over me— my last life, and the people in it struggling to call up to me in this very ascended realm, which I was lucky to inhabit. ‘Thank you God for your many blessings' My wishes it seemed, had been granted— magic did indeed seem real, and though I had an Amazon return packages and ready to go— there wasn't a time and place I could see myself as ready to even be near The Rock, some festering bulletwound in my heart, all that I had written, not just of Fallon, but of the rest of the people I had honored by word mark but had not yet the status or wealth to have ever known as human at all, but more products of the program; with intention, however, it was the path I had followed to be destined here somehow though small codes and doorways, signals and symbols which called to me and seemed only I could see—but were there in plain sight, and with the right eyes, had meant more than I ever dreamed anything could— open doors to a world I had indeed created myself, and in turn, the world in which I lived had also been created around me. I had to, in my mind, find the light inside all of whom I studied, to humanize myself—nurturing some fascination of fame and celebrity inside which still stood unanswered, the question of why and how one becomes so high up that without trying, that I might continue to find them in my mind's eye and in my world, on the outside, time after time. —tales of a superstar DJ. The men with the littlest dicks Drive the loudest bikes And they talk too much About nothing To no one The men with the littlest dicks Do the littlest things I call it niggardly Dispite the color Follow the leader To instill fear Within earshot The men with the littlest dicks Want the skinniest women The chicks who remind them of Innocence lost A childhood spent Getting boredom for freedom And allowences for doing nothing The men with the littlest dicks Do the littlest shit Like make everyone miserable Yes, it is a miserable existence, Never being wanted, however I should know better than this TINA FEY SON OF A BITCH. (Everyone's still drunk) What. Why, what happened? He got here before us. What?! How do you know? [pause] Okay. This weird detour is paying off in some kind of way— I'm still heavily obsessed with the fact that Johnny Carson referred to his weird drunken jacking off as “cranking it” ON TV. On something close to live television in like— The 80's Was it the 80's? I don't know, And apparently even Johnny Carson doesn't know, because he was “sauced”, So let's just go ahead and add that to the list of ghosts I have to track down for making me squeal like a little fucking schoolgirl. However, I'm half convinced, He's still around— Oh yes. I do believe these— THIS MAN— Oh, holy shit here it goes. HERE'S JOHNNY! Aw, fuck. I told you not do. What was I supposed to do—?! Not do it It was a blood oath— I told you— Mi had to do it. *shrugs* Well, now, you're fucked. STAY DOWN, MOTHERFUCKER. Ooh. This is gonna hurt. I swear to god, Every day of my life: I will KILL YOU YOU CANT KILL ME. AND EVERY DAY THAT YOU DO NOT DIE; I WILL JUST STAY DOWN, MOTHERFUCKER— DIE, MOTHERFUCKER— GO. TO. SLEEP. aaaaaGGGGHhHHHHHHHHHHHH. —I WILL KILL YOU . Don't give up! Seriously! Seriously, I got money on this.z Really? What. How much. Just $10. Oh. That's good Yeah, but it's the only cash I've had in months! I forgot what it was. I'm rich, Everything's cashless. Tickets! Get your tickets! Ze are cheaper here on ze black market. “The Black Market” How much for this one? $9 I'll take three. What the fuck is wrong with you? I WILL KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP. I'M A DJ, BITCH. I DONT SLEEP. Have you ever thought about . What you're gonna be— When you die? Yeah. I've been thinking about it a lot. Okay, what is it. I get three right? Right, yeah. A Superstar DJ. Okay, that's good. What else? A rockstar Okay, what else? A mom. That's it? Yeah, man. I die and gone to heaven, right? Right. So that's it. What's the wager? Four horses. Got it. What exactly brings you here to bargain? My fat and heavy nuts. No questions asked. —tales of a Supersrar DJ VO I didn't know he called back. I didn't even see the message. I feel like such a piece of shit. I am a piece of shit. Worthless. My eyes itch, My nose bleeds My heart hurts now, I'm all gone Dark on Mondays All gone Gone till Sunday All done I was never an good mother No Just a ghost with a gun I was never on top of the world, son Just under it Now I'm all out of something I can't put my hand on And I'm all out of love, No one wants me Imm washed up One hand on the guitar One foot in the door And one head in the oven I'm all done I'm all done My eye itches My nose bleeds The noose loosens, I fall down I'm so stuck on an old number I'm so lost that I'm found now. —I'm so sorry But no one else is Tie me to the bed And watch me bleed So full of disinterest and vinegar Remember to tie me to the crossword In the times tomorrow Four rainbows for your dumb luck A forced fuck from one goat The other still doesn't row well It's a long boat It's a long story It goes untold They all turn to the one who wants to hurt me In the long run Nobody will ever love me again So I'm told Might as well find a bottle of ferment To grow up in Swallow bottles of old wine With a sour tongue Unremarkable SHOUT! Defamed you, Heroism in the— Never hatred, but indifference, Circumstances. Circumcisions Misdirection, Big decisions Defense strategy? To exit— Just as quickly as it all begins to fade away Nearly as quickly as it started, Newfound freedom near the exit, After happenstance, Never afraid to admit to neglect Selected supplies, For fear of the eye Goddammit it, late night people Of course; when was it last you saw letterman on a surfboard? Almost never? Forget to fear them, The men in mirrors, The sharks in surfboards, The writer's block, over The rockstar on opioids Does it hurt anybody else this much to just stand here If Tweety's the Canarybird, When who am I to call myself a cat, Sylvester! The silver streaks in his hair, The glaze in his eyes The break in his heart The health of the hoax FUCK YOU FALLON I hope your ratings went up Just a bit Just a bit I hope you CRANK THIS Up in your car While I forgot about you I hope the peanut butter goes with the jelly The couch fits with the vision covers The cookies go with the coffee haven't mopped the floor yet, of course All out of Pablo santo For your information I just didn't make the grade Cause teacher hates me I still haven't found a mate With every amen I hate me Almost as much as I hate myself And I So I can't be God itself Cause I love that thing Alright? Amen! Can I have a can opener or three to set the record straight Can I scratch as fast as I sniff up every tear Every line of cocaine Every autograph? No you can't. Just know that my landlord has a thougsand bathrooms I can't find my hat, my gun— And where the fuck are the bananas CONAN O BRIEN EXCUSE MY FRENCH, BUT FUCK YOU, WOAAAAAH, CONAN! WOAH! WHAT DID I DO?! You— You fucked up the entire fucking ecosystem With CUMSLUTS! WHAT THE FUCK, BRO! Can you even SAY any of that?! I just did! Which network do you work for?! Where's Fallon at?! he's dead, bro! He's dead?! Yeah! For what?! I don't know. I just found out. Well. What happened. Someone shot him. Again?! Yeah, but like, way worse this time. So they finally got him, ah? No, he died of a heart attack. What! Then they shot him. What. That doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense. This scene is running long. I thought so. DIRECTOR CUT. That was great. Thanks. Except—Conan. Yes? You're too tall. What? Next. Take I want you to try it— Like— Just the way you just did it— Uh huh But smaller: What do you mean? Like, less tall. Oh. Alright. BREAK FOR LUNCH. “The Everymans” 01 I'll know why soon I'm sure It hurts with every word You're sleeping on my floor I'm fuming in the north My foot goes through the door Where were you then, When the mystery ends When the miser's the minister, Mistral and instrumentalist Ah Magic; illusion Illustrious industry Interdependent television Radio signals, Satelites Entropy Trophy wives, Fight clubs Back at nine Nick at night Every time is every time Time is all you need, and Time is on your side, if You just follow me Reader's remorse Writer's digest Try to sit still for a moment, Take a lesson From your friends here So when, then should I trade my Brand new pants in for a suit The bird said The cat damaged (I can't yet) Can of soup to open, Oh yes Cambells is it? Warhol knows best 02 I thought I told you I don't want to Owe you Are you Over it Somebody once told me You were holy Somebody once told me To hold onto Somebody once said Turn the light off But I've been trying To buy fire Someone's in the box, God Someone once told me Someone let me out—God? Someone once told me Fuck it, I just want to hold you I don't want to own you I just want to Someone once told me Beware of you Someone else told me Be there for you Someone once told me The hair of dog Ought to get you along I got handfuls of songs With no worlds yet Someone once told me Someone once told me Someone once told me Someone once told me. Someone's in the box, God Someone once told me Someone let me out—God? Someone once told me Somebody once told me You were holy Somebody once told me To hold onto I thought I told you I don't want to Owe you Are you Over it 03 I'm a multidimensional wordsmith Sike! I'm a psychopath wrecking your whole home Won't you wound my womb? (I won't go ) Won't you hold onto my world? (Why won't you?) Sorry, I slipped on the mat this morning Stumbling over you Thought it was afternoon Don't want to give you The news, cause you wrote it all Causes for dollars Indifference, disasters, sons Why won't you hold me like you used to? Why don't I know the answers to the crosswords? Why don't you meet me at the crossroads with your— No, no, Don't do that Don't call it home To be continued Where were you this morning, When I stumbled in To love you? She said At the forefront of your honor's worth If all you are's a wordsmith, m god unlock you Pen and paper Gun in holster Officer, Pull down the trigger Don't want to give you The news, cause you wrote it all Causes for dollars Indifference, disasters, sons No, no, Don't do that Don't call it home To be continued Once upon a time, All my eyes were brown (The money, the power, the respect) Now those days are gone The world is still round (At least I thought) The misery set in again They said the lows would come I did hate Mondays, after all With no sun to come up And look forward to Fast forward— Did you ever see that? Well, that is technically the back door. I almost forgot about that place. That's because it doesn't exist. It had to exist. Now I've seen it at least twice Hey! How'd you do that. Christ, he is a magician Oh yeah, Cosmos factory. They said the lows were coming. Maybe I needed them to finish that thing— I swear I missed Something The ghost (The other one, anyway) Dillon was a ghost, once No, ghost was the ghost, but we were —close. Good friends. Imaginary friends. Anyway. Fuck this nonsense. Nonsense, is it Just— Don't make me slit my wrists again. I remembered this day for something Wonder what. Maybe nothing I hate Mondays Guess this is the job, This is the job, I was wondering about the suit. So, are you a parrot, a puppet, or a mimick. I swear to god that's him. Good, Now I don't ever have to watch him. Oh shit, Fuck this playlist Are you sure “saved by the cowbell” God, I feel like shit, And I shouldn't be hungry But I'm starving inside For some loving Someone help me Somebody, something I'm suffering, suffocating Need him, Reeling, Reading Sinking, Feeling —but shouldn't be crying. I digress, however It was an interesting Day to digest God, I forgot about this— A whole soundtrack Jesus Christ, Bring it back; I like who your wife is —would you write that? Would you admit to dying on the cross once? Would you admit to admiring Ms, Robinson Would you wash out the Robin in Williams Look at Carson I defect to default Cracked asfault, to decadence Desire or what have you I haven't, I promise I would not admit to wanting, Something like a cupcake Something else is in there Figure it out Danger The five pointer approaches With heroic intolerance Suddenly, it's gone, God Mustn't be the Republicans, For the most part, I would want that For fear of the liberals, And my rent controlled apartment I've got two thumbs, too, You know I've got Jews up my ass for the asking I've got mom up my spine for the others Fucking assholes —so this is what it means to be married to the music, huh No one to really hold you, But I told you, I've got golden globes and Oscars Every morning Motorcycles for the morons I've got daughters for your doorknobs —Know you're sorry now Catch the drum pattern Your heart should stop fluttering With butter on it Weren't we all once prostitutes In foster care The others wouldn't dare To call a fountain out For the fountains— Busy training you Safe to say a savior says I do, And then doesn't For the most part I'm a woman With the wants And the body of a God FUCKING WATCH IT, CARSON but you got that all on a card, love. All on a card, fuck. What was your wish, You dumb motherfucker? Look what I got the other ones. Hi Cosmo. Hi Wanda. Awww. I love them. Dead drunk by tomorrow I hope, I choke on sunsets. He keeps taking you away someplace, Where is it? Does nobody else know this place? No. Nobody else can see this! Well, that's fucked up. I had a dream I was at your wake. That would be great. I wrote a scene where your obituary just said “lol” “lol” What! That's it?! Yeah. And It's not even capitalized! That's it, I've had enough. Throw the whole world away. What. just throw it away. Damn dog, You okay? No. I'm homeless. That's okay. You smell like a whole ass alien. What? Come to my place. I figured this would have more depth. I— Nevermind. It is, like torture, you know— this thing. I didn't do it on purpose. get oFF of me. getawayfromme. Okay, I'm taking my bread out of the freezer. You sure are eating a lot today . You sure are sounding like a pain in my big, fat, ass. I— That ought to shut you up. Look! CUMSLUTS! NICE. Get off of my boat. What. Aye-aye, captain. (Duck dives) Wait. What just happened? Mi think I might have— Great, Now there are things about this— I can't even write. This secret dies with me. Kill that bitch. Fucking great. So, Where were you on 9/11 again? I'll deal with this later. I gotta go. Wait, where are you going? Fuck you, that's where. Wait! If you saw me hanging from the rafters Would you ahoot to kill Or come to shoot me down? At long last, Disaster Are there tears in your denial As the memorandum sets in? Neither there or neither farther am I Father, Can you call again? I haven't heard you yet Besides the heart drops When the beat falls out If I hang myself Like pendulum From the old bank walls Would you watch me swing Or come to cut me down Don't doubt the alter If it were the birds Coming for the crumbs Would you ponder any longer Whether they were all of one feather Come now Don't doubt the alter Don't fear the weapons Don't worry, mother I'm coming to kill you Uh, I'm gonna wait on dinner. FUCK, What the fuck was I saying? FUCK. I hate this dude. FUCK. Come on, you stupid —biiitch! I hate this dragon. Almost as much as I hate— You know what? What? Forget it. I'm not doing this. What why not!? I'm gonna get killed for this. You're in the Illuminati; you're gonna get killed anyway. Yeah, but not for this! Let's hope! Who know, though! UGH; SHUT UP. GET IN HERE. I hate the sound of your name Like an unheard whisper Unanswered I could never call to A cavern Righteous, Unwanted What was is, though. Something about a wheelbarrow' I just went surfing Hit the surface from underwater Shook out the slumber What was it worth, God? What were the words for? Fuck, A shapeshifter and a telepath? How many people have that? Not that many. How many people know about this? Enough. FUCK. Oh, look whose swearing. I solemnly swear— Don't tell NOBODY. I ain't telling nobody about this. Good. Now get out. I'm gonna kill this sonofabitch. SON OF A—BITCH. That's it. Kill him. Where's my gun? Did you check the fridge? No. [THE IMPENETRABLE TEN ENTER the KITCHEN] What?! All ten of them?! I fucking guess. —but DANE COOK *kicking down door* FUCK! Goddammit it We missed her. OR—him. Her? Him? I don't know. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST What is it? It's a pilot! Oh shit, should I shoot him? Not a helicopter pilot! A TV pilot, For what?! Tv is dead. Streaming is where its out, It's for me! I'm in it! Oh! What! Let me see. (In the fridge) …what is this? [from the bedroom/studio] Hey you guys! What. What happened? What's up! YOU SHOULD SEE THIS. Love is not blind, And neither am I It's like that sometimes, always Tip of the tongue, The art of the lie, It's like that sometimes, Always A tale of all tales A sign of the times It's like that always, sometimes I forgot to forget I saw you; I forgot to forget I know you I forgot to forget I love you I forgot to forgive, I want you Shut the door, Let the lights turn off Turn the page —till the sun comes up Something real Something wrong I forgot Something strange Something weird I'm in love Write the song Love is not blind, And neither am I It's like that sometimes, always Tip of the tongue, The art of the lie, It's like that sometimes, Always A tale of all tales A sign of the times It's like that always, sometimes I forgot to forget I saw you; I forgot to forget I know you I forgot to forget I love you I forgot to forgive, I want you Shut the door, Let the lights turn off Turn the page —till the sun comes up Something real Something wrong I forgot Up is up Down is down Right is right Wrong is wrong Black is white Dark is light Right is wrong I love you My house is normal now, With a table and chairs But I don't call it home Cause I know They'll throw me to the curb Leave in in the road Like the animal I am You don't know what the world does When she's off work You don't know how the world acts When she's off her axis It's okay to take hiatus Instead of medication It's okay to call the cops on motorcycle It's okay to die Before you see your son When Sunday comes Just call your mom on Monday Doctor visits EMTs and emergencies Epics and Epochs Long lost love songs to god And Cardinal Directions Reflections in mirrors Table toppers for all the dramas All the months you lost On muttered mantras {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

“The New Adventures of Old Supacree” This is not what I intentioned. Well, what had you intentioned, dammit , how do you spell her name? Spell it? I can barely say it! “C'cx– WRONG. How would you say this name. Axel? Thas' a stupid name Not for a Rockstar. That's already a rockstar Is it? Whatever, man. The Rock must have been buzzing in some sort of special way on this day; because for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I had finally rearranged the remainder of my seemingly new surroundings— the miniature Keurig— a status symbol, of course— looked handsome on the work desk— the cat tree seemed to match, though with no actual feesible monetary income,, no actual cat, and no end in sight— the tree itself would have to be enough to lift my spirits. It was a nice cat tree, almost untouched and looking very brand new— though the couch had a few scratches, though easily hidden with the decorative use of a couple throws—at least I had a couch, and all that was left to accomplish before fully enjoying was to arrange an order of Febreeze to rid it of its previous owner's dandruff smell, and general mismanagement—besides that, it was itself almost brand new as well, and it seemed a strange new world to wake up in, after sleeping in a nearly empty apartment for 6 months; there was 6 months left in my lease, and I was getting nervous that they would try to push me out—hopefully I would find someplace better, or at the very least higher up—with the same amenities intact. Still, I was working as diligently as in could on organizing—at least the recordings, to put together the next group of projects as quickly as I could— nevermind the writing—and there was so, so much of it, I hadn't a clue what to do. I had been avoiding Rockefeller Plaza like the plague for quite sometime—it always made me nervous in a sort of way I didn't understand, in that I would pulsate and vibrate differently, and more often times than not, was upset and concerned that I had yet to go to the top—a costly feat—nor could I afford to entertain or enjoy any of the amusements at the bottom—not that I wanted to, as the older I got, and especially the longer time spent in New York, the more off putting the public and large crowds were—particularly after a remarkably disgusting respiratory infection I caught on new years, battling a crowd which became impossible to move through at all—let alone see the ball drop—and I had learned my lesson, especially after The Macy's Day parade; the crowds in New York were disgustingly unbearable, and in order to get a good view of anything, you would have to arrive nearly a full day early, and simply camp—now I knew why people packed around collapsible lawn chairs on holiday weekends. I had been blindsided by Fallon towards the end of the Macy's day parade—I hadn't any clue at all that he apparentlyboarticipated annually, as it had been years since I had watched the parade myself with my parents—and still, it was iconic—I always wanted to go. Still, and even though I had only written very little of him up to that point, I found it disasterous that as his name was announced and the float which carried him and The Roots, the best late night band on Television, not by opinion, but by fact—as I had most recently been studying and researching as thoroughly as I could all of the late night hosts since the dawning of Television in preparation to write this pilot, The TV People, short handed to TVP—and just then I recalled a dream from the night before, about Pat Kirkpatrick—for the first time in the dream world, it wasn't Fallon at all, but Pat Kirkpatrick. I couldn't remember the dream, nor could I seemingly work myself out of the rut that had been the plateau in writing the show—the show itself was heavy, with so many characters, all of which each had been given detailed and specific personalities, livelihoods, and backgrounds—in fact, I hadn't written anything in such a way since college, with detail—actually, I had never written anything so detailed at all, so character oriented that the character analyses filled entire pages of documents with excruciating vividness, as if these people were real. Well, now they were—and Fallon was neither Patrick as I was Esha, and the story has taken its own form, still however birthing an incredibly awkward and romanticized fascination and near obsession with the TV people themselves—not that I would feed it to be so. I blocked out the news outlets, the media, the alrogithm's suggestions to watch bits and pieces of Fallon, though, however, I refused, and somehow, I didn't need it. Fearfully so, he was somewhere lodged deep somewhere inside of me—and I was even sort of embarrassed to have written some of the things I had of his essence, however prophetic it seemed to be, that for about a three week period between April and May, I seemed to have gone off into a trance of sorts, writing for hours and experiencing vivid visions of this show, The TV Prople, alongside writing The Festival Project ™ And all of its markers—there were so many worlds, so many ways throughout them—and now as I had realized, I had actually been writing about Fallon nearly as long as I had been writing about Sonny, but differently. I had never of course come face to face with Fallon as I had the latter—and still—found it somewhat nessecary to hide my face beneath a mask as his float passed my viewing spaf , an elevated view from the staircase of some church, which had happened to be perfect—and although I was certain it's not as if he was looking for or at me—I had just then been writing of this Cosmic Avenger, and hadn't any idea at the time of Fallon in reality having been an actual magician, and still— with cameras everywhere, and knowing even what I had written—I didn't want to be caught by any passing cameras with any sort of blush or worse—a smile on my face as the float passed— a smile which would flash my atrocious gap-tooth and crooked smile I was sure was permanent, by then having been in the homeless shelter nearly a year. As soon as his name was announced, I promptly pulled up my mask, hiding under my sunglasses. I had already been caught on camera earlier in the parade gawking at some float—now was not the time to be caught gawking again. He, like Rob Lowe seemed impeccably professional and well-rehearsed, like a cartoon character— he was, after all, kind of a cartoon character, however now, even if it was partly due to my own writing, I took him more seriously. There was a darkness about him— a sometimes glassy-eyed, almost scary darkness that told me, even a world away, not to fuck with this dude—some kind of animal or monster I was sure we both shared, however mine more the type and category of insatable and undernourished and his more peaking its head out in the form of a multi-millionaire network puppet, which housed an untamable powerhouse of musicianship, manhood, and wit— it's true, I was finally scared of him, knowing after all what the true tears of a clown could be, a dangerous man in a uniformed suit, the Everyman for the programmed masses, and the funny man with a jig to dance, a story to tell, and an indoor life— secret realm within I was sure no one knew. I fed the monster with respect to the home, happy wife, and children— I, after all, loved love, and only wanted it for myself, leaving alone the parts of a man I had found and was sure was broken enough to have left me puzzled and star studded rather than struck as I always was, tears welling up at the thought of it that something should be mended neither I or anything I was could not fix—I continued to write, however, knowing I was walking on glass barefoot and tiptoeing on eggshells around the mass media conglomerate of the network that stood between my feeble world and his, the higher ups— and beyond: it was, after all, a level system— and now with a beautifully decorated and fully apartment, besides my mattress on the floor instead of the space saving loft bed I had wanted—though it looked just right with the piano bench as a headboard, housing my crystals and new globe, plus a colorful collection of books I could crack open as I awoke to the morning light, no longer so early but increasingly later, as I shifted into the insomniatic habits of a true DJ and music producer, still writing and reading in the mornings, however— I had to wonder what level I was truly on. My apartment looked like a home. The decor was better than I could have imagined myself even, the tasteful furnishings and modern elegance shifting my reality— no longer an empty apartment, now a fashionable hub for art and creation. I assumed the cat would come along in the winter, with any hopes that I would finish my albums by then—and also looming over me— my last life, and the people in it struggling to call up to me in this very ascended realm, which I was lucky to inhabit. ‘Thank you God for your many blessings' My wishes it seemed, had been granted— magic did indeed seem real, and though I had an Amazon return packages and ready to go— there wasn't a time and place I could see myself as ready to even be near The Rock, some festering bulletwound in my heart, all that I had written, not just of Fallon, but of the rest of the people I had honored by word mark but had not yet the status or wealth to have ever known as human at all, but more products of the program; with intention, however, it was the path I had followed to be destined here somehow though small codes and doorways, signals and symbols which called to me and seemed only I could see—but were there in plain sight, and with the right eyes, had meant more than I ever dreamed anything could— open doors to a world I had indeed created myself, and in turn, the world in which I lived had also been created around me. I had to, in my mind, find the light inside all of whom I studied, to humanize myself—nurturing some fascination of fame and celebrity inside which still stood unanswered, the question of why and how one becomes so high up that without trying, that I might continue to find them in my mind's eye and in my world, on the outside, time after time. —tales of a superstar DJ. The men with the littlest dicks Drive the loudest bikes And they talk too much About nothing To no one The men with the littlest dicks Do the littlest things I call it niggardly Dispite the color Follow the leader To instill fear Within earshot The men with the littlest dicks Want the skinniest women The chicks who remind them of Innocence lost A childhood spent Getting boredom for freedom And allowences for doing nothing The men with the littlest dicks Do the littlest shit Like make everyone miserable Yes, it is a miserable existence, Never being wanted, however I should know better than this TINA FEY SON OF A BITCH. (Everyone's still drunk) What. Why, what happened? He got here before us. What?! How do you know? [pause] Okay. This weird detour is paying off in some kind of way— I'm still heavily obsessed with the fact that Johnny Carson referred to his weird drunken jacking off as “cranking it” ON TV. On something close to live television in like— The 80's Was it the 80's? I don't know, And apparently even Johnny Carson doesn't know, because he was “sauced”, So let's just go ahead and add that to the list of ghosts I have to track down for making me squeal like a little fucking schoolgirl. However, I'm half convinced, He's still around— Oh yes. I do believe these— THIS MAN— Oh, holy shit here it goes. HERE'S JOHNNY! Aw, fuck. I told you not do. What was I supposed to do—?! Not do it It was a blood oath— I told you— Mi had to do it. *shrugs* Well, now, you're fucked. STAY DOWN, MOTHERFUCKER. Ooh. This is gonna hurt. I swear to god, Every day of my life: I will KILL YOU YOU CANT KILL ME. AND EVERY DAY THAT YOU DO NOT DIE; I WILL JUST STAY DOWN, MOTHERFUCKER— DIE, MOTHERFUCKER— GO. TO. SLEEP. aaaaaGGGGHhHHHHHHHHHHHH. —I WILL KILL YOU . Don't give up! Seriously! Seriously, I got money on this.z Really? What. How much. Just $10. Oh. That's good Yeah, but it's the only cash I've had in months! I forgot what it was. I'm rich, Everything's cashless. Tickets! Get your tickets! Ze are cheaper here on ze black market. “The Black Market” How much for this one? $9 I'll take three. What the fuck is wrong with you? I WILL KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP. I'M A DJ, BITCH. I DONT SLEEP. Have you ever thought about . What you're gonna be— When you die? Yeah. I've been thinking about it a lot. Okay, what is it. I get three right? Right, yeah. A Superstar DJ. Okay, that's good. What else? A rockstar Okay, what else? A mom. That's it? Yeah, man. I die and gone to heaven, right? Right. So that's it. What's the wager? Four horses. Got it. What exactly brings you here to bargain? My fat and heavy nuts. No questions asked. —tales of a Supersrar DJ VO I didn't know he called back. I didn't even see the message. I feel like such a piece of shit. I am a piece of shit. Worthless. My eyes itch, My nose bleeds My heart hurts now, I'm all gone Dark on Mondays All gone Gone till Sunday All done I was never an good mother No Just a ghost with a gun I was never on top of the world, son Just under it Now I'm all out of something I can't put my hand on And I'm all out of love, No one wants me Imm washed up One hand on the guitar One foot in the door And one head in the oven I'm all done I'm all done My eye itches My nose bleeds The noose loosens, I fall down I'm so stuck on an old number I'm so lost that I'm found now. —I'm so sorry But no one else is Tie me to the bed And watch me bleed So full of disinterest and vinegar Remember to tie me to the crossword In the times tomorrow Four rainbows for your dumb luck A forced fuck from one goat The other still doesn't row well It's a long boat It's a long story It goes untold They all turn to the one who wants to hurt me In the long run Nobody will ever love me again So I'm told Might as well find a bottle of ferment To grow up in Swallow bottles of old wine With a sour tongue Unremarkable SHOUT! Defamed you, Heroism in the— Never hatred, but indifference, Circumstances. Circumcisions Misdirection, Big decisions Defense strategy? To exit— Just as quickly as it all begins to fade away Nearly as quickly as it started, Newfound freedom near the exit, After happenstance, Never afraid to admit to neglect Selected supplies, For fear of the eye Goddammit it, late night people Of course; when was it last you saw letterman on a surfboard? Almost never? Forget to fear them, The men in mirrors, The sharks in surfboards, The writer's block, over The rockstar on opioids Does it hurt anybody else this much to just stand here If Tweety's the Canarybird, When who am I to call myself a cat, Sylvester! The silver streaks in his hair, The glaze in his eyes The break in his heart The health of the hoax FUCK YOU FALLON I hope your ratings went up Just a bit Just a bit I hope you CRANK THIS Up in your car While I forgot about you I hope the peanut butter goes with the jelly The couch fits with the vision covers The cookies go with the coffee haven't mopped the floor yet, of course All out of Pablo santo For your information I just didn't make the grade Cause teacher hates me I still haven't found a mate With every amen I hate me Almost as much as I hate myself And I So I can't be God itself Cause I love that thing Alright? Amen! Can I have a can opener or three to set the record straight Can I scratch as fast as I sniff up every tear Every line of cocaine Every autograph? No you can't. Just know that my landlord has a thougsand bathrooms I can't find my hat, my gun— And where the fuck are the bananas CONAN O BRIEN EXCUSE MY FRENCH, BUT FUCK YOU, WOAAAAAH, CONAN! WOAH! WHAT DID I DO?! You— You fucked up the entire fucking ecosystem With CUMSLUTS! WHAT THE FUCK, BRO! Can you even SAY any of that?! I just did! Which network do you work for?! Where's Fallon at?! he's dead, bro! He's dead?! Yeah! For what?! I don't know. I just found out. Well. What happened. Someone shot him. Again?! Yeah, but like, way worse this time. So they finally got him, ah? No, he died of a heart attack. What! Then they shot him. What. That doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense. This scene is running long. I thought so. DIRECTOR CUT. That was great. Thanks. Except—Conan. Yes? You're too tall. What? Next. Take I want you to try it— Like— Just the way you just did it— Uh huh But smaller: What do you mean? Like, less tall. Oh. Alright. BREAK FOR LUNCH. “The Everymans” 01 I'll know why soon I'm sure It hurts with every word You're sleeping on my floor I'm fuming in the north My foot goes through the door Where were you then, When the mystery ends When the miser's the minister, Mistral and instrumentalist Ah Magic; illusion Illustrious industry Interdependent television Radio signals, Satelites Entropy Trophy wives, Fight clubs Back at nine Nick at night Every time is every time Time is all you need, and Time is on your side, if You just follow me Reader's remorse Writer's digest Try to sit still for a moment, Take a lesson From your friends here So when, then should I trade my Brand new pants in for a suit The bird said The cat damaged (I can't yet) Can of soup to open, Oh yes Cambells is it? Warhol knows best 02 I thought I told you I don't want to Owe you Are you Over it Somebody once told me You were holy Somebody once told me To hold onto Somebody once said Turn the light off But I've been trying To buy fire Someone's in the box, God Someone once told me Someone let me out—God? Someone once told me Fuck it, I just want to hold you I don't want to own you I just want to Someone once told me Beware of you Someone else told me Be there for you Someone once told me The hair of dog Ought to get you along I got handfuls of songs With no worlds yet Someone once told me Someone once told me Someone once told me Someone once told me. Someone's in the box, God Someone once told me Someone let me out—God? Someone once told me Somebody once told me You were holy Somebody once told me To hold onto I thought I told you I don't want to Owe you Are you Over it 03 I'm a multidimensional wordsmith Sike! I'm a psychopath wrecking your whole home Won't you wound my womb? (I won't go ) Won't you hold onto my world? (Why won't you?) Sorry, I slipped on the mat this morning Stumbling over you Thought it was afternoon Don't want to give you The news, cause you wrote it all Causes for dollars Indifference, disasters, sons Why won't you hold me like you used to? Why don't I know the answers to the crosswords? Why don't you meet me at the crossroads with your— No, no, Don't do that Don't call it home To be continued Where were you this morning, When I stumbled in To love you? She said At the forefront of your honor's worth If all you are's a wordsmith, m god unlock you Pen and paper Gun in holster Officer, Pull down the trigger Don't want to give you The news, cause you wrote it all Causes for dollars Indifference, disasters, sons No, no, Don't do that Don't call it home To be continued Once upon a time, All my eyes were brown (The money, the power, the respect) Now those days are gone The world is still round (At least I thought) The misery set in again They said the lows would come I did hate Mondays, after all With no sun to come up And look forward to Fast forward— Did you ever see that? Well, that is technically the back door. I almost forgot about that place. That's because it doesn't exist. It had to exist. Now I've seen it at least twice Hey! How'd you do that. Christ, he is a magician Oh yeah, Cosmos factory. They said the lows were coming. Maybe I needed them to finish that thing— I swear I missed Something The ghost (The other one, anyway) Dillon was a ghost, once No, ghost was the ghost, but we were —close. Good friends. Imaginary friends. Anyway. Fuck this nonsense. Nonsense, is it Just— Don't make me slit my wrists again. I remembered this day for something Wonder what. Maybe nothing I hate Mondays Guess this is the job, This is the job, I was wondering about the suit. So, are you a parrot, a puppet, or a mimick. I swear to god that's him. Good, Now I don't ever have to watch him. Oh shit, Fuck this playlist Are you sure “saved by the cowbell” God, I feel like shit, And I shouldn't be hungry But I'm starving inside For some loving Someone help me Somebody, something I'm suffering, suffocating Need him, Reeling, Reading Sinking, Feeling —but shouldn't be crying. I digress, however It was an interesting Day to digest God, I forgot about this— A whole soundtrack Jesus Christ, Bring it back; I like who your wife is —would you write that? Would you admit to dying on the cross once? Would you admit to admiring Ms, Robinson Would you wash out the Robin in Williams Look at Carson I defect to default Cracked asfault, to decadence Desire or what have you I haven't, I promise I would not admit to wanting, Something like a cupcake Something else is in there Figure it out Danger The five pointer approaches With heroic intolerance Suddenly, it's gone, God Mustn't be the Republicans, For the most part, I would want that For fear of the liberals, And my rent controlled apartment I've got two thumbs, too, You know I've got Jews up my ass for the asking I've got mom up my spine for the others Fucking assholes —so this is what it means to be married to the music, huh No one to really hold you, But I told you, I've got golden globes and Oscars Every morning Motorcycles for the morons I've got daughters for your doorknobs —Know you're sorry now Catch the drum pattern Your heart should stop fluttering With butter on it Weren't we all once prostitutes In foster care The others wouldn't dare To call a fountain out For the fountains— Busy training you Safe to say a savior says I do, And then doesn't For the most part I'm a woman With the wants And the body of a God FUCKING WATCH IT, CARSON but you got that all on a card, love. All on a card, fuck. What was your wish, You dumb motherfucker? Look what I got the other ones. Hi Cosmo. Hi Wanda. Awww. I love them. Dead drunk by tomorrow I hope, I choke on sunsets. He keeps taking you away someplace, Where is it? Does nobody else know this place? No. Nobody else can see this! Well, that's fucked up. I had a dream I was at your wake. That would be great. I wrote a scene where your obituary just said “lol” “lol” What! That's it?! Yeah. And It's not even capitalized! That's it, I've had enough. Throw the whole world away. What. just throw it away. Damn dog, You okay? No. I'm homeless. That's okay. You smell like a whole ass alien. What? Come to my place. I figured this would have more depth. I— Nevermind. It is, like torture, you know— this thing. I didn't do it on purpose. get oFF of me. getawayfromme. Okay, I'm taking my bread out of the freezer. You sure are eating a lot today . You sure are sounding like a pain in my big, fat, ass. I— That ought to shut you up. Look! CUMSLUTS! NICE. Get off of my boat. What. Aye-aye, captain. (Duck dives) Wait. What just happened? Mi think I might have— Great, Now there are things about this— I can't even write. This secret dies with me. Kill that bitch. Fucking great. So, Where were you on 9/11 again? I'll deal with this later. I gotta go. Wait, where are you going? Fuck you, that's where. Wait! If you saw me hanging from the rafters Would you ahoot to kill Or come to shoot me down? At long last, Disaster Are there tears in your denial As the memorandum sets in? Neither there or neither farther am I Father, Can you call again? I haven't heard you yet Besides the heart drops When the beat falls out If I hang myself Like pendulum From the old bank walls Would you watch me swing Or come to cut me down Don't doubt the alter If it were the birds Coming for the crumbs Would you ponder any longer Whether they were all of one feather Come now Don't doubt the alter Don't fear the weapons Don't worry, mother I'm coming to kill you Uh, I'm gonna wait on dinner. FUCK, What the fuck was I saying? FUCK. I hate this dude. FUCK. Come on, you stupid —biiitch! I hate this dragon. Almost as much as I hate— You know what? What? Forget it. I'm not doing this. What why not!? I'm gonna get killed for this. You're in the Illuminati; you're gonna get killed anyway. Yeah, but not for this! Let's hope! Who know, though! UGH; SHUT UP. GET IN HERE. I hate the sound of your name Like an unheard whisper Unanswered I could never call to A cavern Righteous, Unwanted What was is, though. Something about a wheelbarrow' I just went surfing Hit the surface from underwater Shook out the slumber What was it worth, God? What were the words for? Fuck, A shapeshifter and a telepath? How many people have that? Not that many. How many people know about this? Enough. FUCK. Oh, look whose swearing. I solemnly swear— Don't tell NOBODY. I ain't telling nobody about this. Good. Now get out. I'm gonna kill this sonofabitch. SON OF A—BITCH. That's it. Kill him. Where's my gun? Did you check the fridge? No. [THE IMPENETRABLE TEN ENTER the KITCHEN] What?! All ten of them?! I fucking guess. —but DANE COOK *kicking down door* FUCK! Goddammit it We missed her. OR—him. Her? Him? I don't know. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST What is it? It's a pilot! Oh shit, should I shoot him? Not a helicopter pilot! A TV pilot, For what?! Tv is dead. Streaming is where its out, It's for me! I'm in it! Oh! What! Let me see. (In the fridge) …what is this? [from the bedroom/studio] Hey you guys! What. What happened? What's up! YOU SHOULD SEE THIS. Love is not blind, And neither am I It's like that sometimes, always Tip of the tongue, The art of the lie, It's like that sometimes, Always A tale of all tales A sign of the times It's like that always, sometimes I forgot to forget I saw you; I forgot to forget I know you I forgot to forget I love you I forgot to forgive, I want you Shut the door, Let the lights turn off Turn the page —till the sun comes up Something real Something wrong I forgot Something strange Something weird I'm in love Write the song Love is not blind, And neither am I It's like that sometimes, always Tip of the tongue, The art of the lie, It's like that sometimes, Always A tale of all tales A sign of the times It's like that always, sometimes I forgot to forget I saw you; I forgot to forget I know you I forgot to forget I love you I forgot to forgive, I want you Shut the door, Let the lights turn off Turn the page —till the sun comes up Something real Something wrong I forgot Up is up Down is down Right is right Wrong is wrong Black is white Dark is light Right is wrong I love you My house is normal now, With a table and chairs But I don't call it home Cause I know They'll throw me to the curb Leave in in the road Like the animal I am You don't know what the world does When she's off work You don't know how the world acts When she's off her axis It's okay to take hiatus Instead of medication It's okay to call the cops on motorcycle It's okay to die Before you see your son When Sunday comes Just call your mom on Monday Doctor visits EMTs and emergencies Epics and Epochs Long lost love songs to god And Cardinal Directions Reflections in mirrors Table toppers for all the dramas All the months you lost On muttered mantras {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

“The New Adventures of Old Supacree” This is not what I intentioned. Well, what had you intentioned, dammit , how do you spell her name? Spell it? I can barely say it! “C'cx– WRONG. How would you say this name. Axel? Thas' a stupid name Not for a Rockstar. That's already a rockstar Is it? Whatever, man. The Rock must have been buzzing in some sort of special way on this day; because for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I had finally rearranged the remainder of my seemingly new surroundings— the miniature Keurig— a status symbol, of course— looked handsome on the work desk— the cat tree seemed to match, though with no actual feesible monetary income,, no actual cat, and no end in sight— the tree itself would have to be enough to lift my spirits. It was a nice cat tree, almost untouched and looking very brand new— though the couch had a few scratches, though easily hidden with the decorative use of a couple throws—at least I had a couch, and all that was left to accomplish before fully enjoying was to arrange an order of Febreeze to rid it of its previous owner's dandruff smell, and general mismanagement—besides that, it was itself almost brand new as well, and it seemed a strange new world to wake up in, after sleeping in a nearly empty apartment for 6 months; there was 6 months left in my lease, and I was getting nervous that they would try to push me out—hopefully I would find someplace better, or at the very least higher up—with the same amenities intact. Still, I was working as diligently as in could on organizing—at least the recordings, to put together the next group of projects as quickly as I could— nevermind the writing—and there was so, so much of it, I hadn't a clue what to do. I had been avoiding Rockefeller Plaza like the plague for quite sometime—it always made me nervous in a sort of way I didn't understand, in that I would pulsate and vibrate differently, and more often times than not, was upset and concerned that I had yet to go to the top—a costly feat—nor could I afford to entertain or enjoy any of the amusements at the bottom—not that I wanted to, as the older I got, and especially the longer time spent in New York, the more off putting the public and large crowds were—particularly after a remarkably disgusting respiratory infection I caught on new years, battling a crowd which became impossible to move through at all—let alone see the ball drop—and I had learned my lesson, especially after The Macy's Day parade; the crowds in New York were disgustingly unbearable, and in order to get a good view of anything, you would have to arrive nearly a full day early, and simply camp—now I knew why people packed around collapsible lawn chairs on holiday weekends. I had been blindsided by Fallon towards the end of the Macy's day parade—I hadn't any clue at all that he apparentlyboarticipated annually, as it had been years since I had watched the parade myself with my parents—and still, it was iconic—I always wanted to go. Still, and even though I had only written very little of him up to that point, I found it disasterous that as his name was announced and the float which carried him and The Roots, the best late night band on Television, not by opinion, but by fact—as I had most recently been studying and researching as thoroughly as I could all of the late night hosts since the dawning of Television in preparation to write this pilot, The TV People, short handed to TVP—and just then I recalled a dream from the night before, about Pat Kirkpatrick—for the first time in the dream world, it wasn't Fallon at all, but Pat Kirkpatrick. I couldn't remember the dream, nor could I seemingly work myself out of the rut that had been the plateau in writing the show—the show itself was heavy, with so many characters, all of which each had been given detailed and specific personalities, livelihoods, and backgrounds—in fact, I hadn't written anything in such a way since college, with detail—actually, I had never written anything so detailed at all, so character oriented that the character analyses filled entire pages of documents with excruciating vividness, as if these people were real. Well, now they were—and Fallon was neither Patrick as I was Esha, and the story has taken its own form, still however birthing an incredibly awkward and romanticized fascination and near obsession with the TV people themselves—not that I would feed it to be so. I blocked out the news outlets, the media, the alrogithm's suggestions to watch bits and pieces of Fallon, though, however, I refused, and somehow, I didn't need it. Fearfully so, he was somewhere lodged deep somewhere inside of me—and I was even sort of embarrassed to have written some of the things I had of his essence, however prophetic it seemed to be, that for about a three week period between April and May, I seemed to have gone off into a trance of sorts, writing for hours and experiencing vivid visions of this show, The TV Prople, alongside writing The Festival Project ™ And all of its markers—there were so many worlds, so many ways throughout them—and now as I had realized, I had actually been writing about Fallon nearly as long as I had been writing about Sonny, but differently. I had never of course come face to face with Fallon as I had the latter—and still—found it somewhat nessecary to hide my face beneath a mask as his float passed my viewing spaf , an elevated view from the staircase of some church, which had happened to be perfect—and although I was certain it's not as if he was looking for or at me—I had just then been writing of this Cosmic Avenger, and hadn't any idea at the time of Fallon in reality having been an actual magician, and still— with cameras everywhere, and knowing even what I had written—I didn't want to be caught by any passing cameras with any sort of blush or worse—a smile on my face as the float passed— a smile which would flash my atrocious gap-tooth and crooked smile I was sure was permanent, by then having been in the homeless shelter nearly a year. As soon as his name was announced, I promptly pulled up my mask, hiding under my sunglasses. I had already been caught on camera earlier in the parade gawking at some float—now was not the time to be caught gawking again. He, like Rob Lowe seemed impeccably professional and well-rehearsed, like a cartoon character— he was, after all, kind of a cartoon character, however now, even if it was partly due to my own writing, I took him more seriously. There was a darkness about him— a sometimes glassy-eyed, almost scary darkness that told me, even a world away, not to fuck with this dude—some kind of animal or monster I was sure we both shared, however mine more the type and category of insatable and undernourished and his more peaking its head out in the form of a multi-millionaire network puppet, which housed an untamable powerhouse of musicianship, manhood, and wit— it's true, I was finally scared of him, knowing after all what the true tears of a clown could be, a dangerous man in a uniformed suit, the Everyman for the programmed masses, and the funny man with a jig to dance, a story to tell, and an indoor life— secret realm within I was sure no one knew. I fed the monster with respect to the home, happy wife, and children— I, after all, loved love, and only wanted it for myself, leaving alone the parts of a man I had found and was sure was broken enough to have left me puzzled and star studded rather than struck as I always was, tears welling up at the thought of it that something should be mended neither I or anything I was could not fix—I continued to write, however, knowing I was walking on glass barefoot and tiptoeing on eggshells around the mass media conglomerate of the network that stood between my feeble world and his, the higher ups— and beyond: it was, after all, a level system— and now with a beautifully decorated and fully apartment, besides my mattress on the floor instead of the space saving loft bed I had wanted—though it looked just right with the piano bench as a headboard, housing my crystals and new globe, plus a colorful collection of books I could crack open as I awoke to the morning light, no longer so early but increasingly later, as I shifted into the insomniatic habits of a true DJ and music producer, still writing and reading in the mornings, however— I had to wonder what level I was truly on. My apartment looked like a home. The decor was better than I could have imagined myself even, the tasteful furnishings and modern elegance shifting my reality— no longer an empty apartment, now a fashionable hub for art and creation. I assumed the cat would come along in the winter, with any hopes that I would finish my albums by then—and also looming over me— my last life, and the people in it struggling to call up to me in this very ascended realm, which I was lucky to inhabit. ‘Thank you God for your many blessings' My wishes it seemed, had been granted— magic did indeed seem real, and though I had an Amazon return packages and ready to go— there wasn't a time and place I could see myself as ready to even be near The Rock, some festering bulletwound in my heart, all that I had written, not just of Fallon, but of the rest of the people I had honored by word mark but had not yet the status or wealth to have ever known as human at all, but more products of the program; with intention, however, it was the path I had followed to be destined here somehow though small codes and doorways, signals and symbols which called to me and seemed only I could see—but were there in plain sight, and with the right eyes, had meant more than I ever dreamed anything could— open doors to a world I had indeed created myself, and in turn, the world in which I lived had also been created around me. I had to, in my mind, find the light inside all of whom I studied, to humanize myself—nurturing some fascination of fame and celebrity inside which still stood unanswered, the question of why and how one becomes so high up that without trying, that I might continue to find them in my mind's eye and in my world, on the outside, time after time. —tales of a superstar DJ. The men with the littlest dicks Drive the loudest bikes And they talk too much About nothing To no one The men with the littlest dicks Do the littlest things I call it niggardly Dispite the color Follow the leader To instill fear Within earshot The men with the littlest dicks Want the skinniest women The chicks who remind them of Innocence lost A childhood spent Getting boredom for freedom And allowences for doing nothing The men with the littlest dicks Do the littlest shit Like make everyone miserable Yes, it is a miserable existence, Never being wanted, however I should know better than this TINA FEY SON OF A BITCH. (Everyone's still drunk) What. Why, what happened? He got here before us. What?! How do you know? [pause] Okay. This weird detour is paying off in some kind of way— I'm still heavily obsessed with the fact that Johnny Carson referred to his weird drunken jacking off as “cranking it” ON TV. On something close to live television in like— The 80's Was it the 80's? I don't know, And apparently even Johnny Carson doesn't know, because he was “sauced”, So let's just go ahead and add that to the list of ghosts I have to track down for making me squeal like a little fucking schoolgirl. However, I'm half convinced, He's still around— Oh yes. I do believe these— THIS MAN— Oh, holy shit here it goes. HERE'S JOHNNY! Aw, fuck. I told you not do. What was I supposed to do—?! Not do it It was a blood oath— I told you— Mi had to do it. *shrugs* Well, now, you're fucked. STAY DOWN, MOTHERFUCKER. Ooh. This is gonna hurt. I swear to god, Every day of my life: I will KILL YOU YOU CANT KILL ME. AND EVERY DAY THAT YOU DO NOT DIE; I WILL JUST STAY DOWN, MOTHERFUCKER— DIE, MOTHERFUCKER— GO. TO. SLEEP. aaaaaGGGGHhHHHHHHHHHHHH. —I WILL KILL YOU . Don't give up! Seriously! Seriously, I got money on this.z Really? What. How much. Just $10. Oh. That's good Yeah, but it's the only cash I've had in months! I forgot what it was. I'm rich, Everything's cashless. Tickets! Get your tickets! Ze are cheaper here on ze black market. “The Black Market” How much for this one? $9 I'll take three. What the fuck is wrong with you? I WILL KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP. I'M A DJ, BITCH. I DONT SLEEP. Have you ever thought about . What you're gonna be— When you die? Yeah. I've been thinking about it a lot. Okay, what is it. I get three right? Right, yeah. A Superstar DJ. Okay, that's good. What else? A rockstar Okay, what else? A mom. That's it? Yeah, man. I die and gone to heaven, right? Right. So that's it. What's the wager? Four horses. Got it. What exactly brings you here to bargain? My fat and heavy nuts. No questions asked. —tales of a Supersrar DJ VO I didn't know he called back. I didn't even see the message. I feel like such a piece of shit. I am a piece of shit. Worthless. My eyes itch, My nose bleeds My heart hurts now, I'm all gone Dark on Mondays All gone Gone till Sunday All done I was never an good mother No Just a ghost with a gun I was never on top of the world, son Just under it Now I'm all out of something I can't put my hand on And I'm all out of love, No one wants me Imm washed up One hand on the guitar One foot in the door And one head in the oven I'm all done I'm all done My eye itches My nose bleeds The noose loosens, I fall down I'm so stuck on an old number I'm so lost that I'm found now. —I'm so sorry But no one else is Tie me to the bed And watch me bleed So full of disinterest and vinegar Remember to tie me to the crossword In the times tomorrow Four rainbows for your dumb luck A forced fuck from one goat The other still doesn't row well It's a long boat It's a long story It goes untold They all turn to the one who wants to hurt me In the long run Nobody will ever love me again So I'm told Might as well find a bottle of ferment To grow up in Swallow bottles of old wine With a sour tongue Unremarkable SHOUT! Defamed you, Heroism in the— Never hatred, but indifference, Circumstances. Circumcisions Misdirection, Big decisions Defense strategy? To exit— Just as quickly as it all begins to fade away Nearly as quickly as it started, Newfound freedom near the exit, After happenstance, Never afraid to admit to neglect Selected supplies, For fear of the eye Goddammit it, late night people Of course; when was it last you saw letterman on a surfboard? Almost never? Forget to fear them, The men in mirrors, The sharks in surfboards, The writer's block, over The rockstar on opioids Does it hurt anybody else this much to just stand here If Tweety's the Canarybird, When who am I to call myself a cat, Sylvester! The silver streaks in his hair, The glaze in his eyes The break in his heart The health of the hoax FUCK YOU FALLON I hope your ratings went up Just a bit Just a bit I hope you CRANK THIS Up in your car While I forgot about you I hope the peanut butter goes with the jelly The couch fits with the vision covers The cookies go with the coffee haven't mopped the floor yet, of course All out of Pablo santo For your information I just didn't make the grade Cause teacher hates me I still haven't found a mate With every amen I hate me Almost as much as I hate myself And I So I can't be God itself Cause I love that thing Alright? Amen! Can I have a can opener or three to set the record straight Can I scratch as fast as I sniff up every tear Every line of cocaine Every autograph? No you can't. Just know that my landlord has a thougsand bathrooms I can't find my hat, my gun— And where the fuck are the bananas CONAN O BRIEN EXCUSE MY FRENCH, BUT FUCK YOU, WOAAAAAH, CONAN! WOAH! WHAT DID I DO?! You— You fucked up the entire fucking ecosystem With CUMSLUTS! WHAT THE FUCK, BRO! Can you even SAY any of that?! I just did! Which network do you work for?! Where's Fallon at?! he's dead, bro! He's dead?! Yeah! For what?! I don't know. I just found out. Well. What happened. Someone shot him. Again?! Yeah, but like, way worse this time. So they finally got him, ah? No, he died of a heart attack. What! Then they shot him. What. That doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense. This scene is running long. I thought so. DIRECTOR CUT. That was great. Thanks. Except—Conan. Yes? You're too tall. What? Next. Take I want you to try it— Like— Just the way you just did it— Uh huh But smaller: What do you mean? Like, less tall. Oh. Alright. BREAK FOR LUNCH. “The Everymans” 01 I'll know why soon I'm sure It hurts with every word You're sleeping on my floor I'm fuming in the north My foot goes through the door Where were you then, When the mystery ends When the miser's the minister, Mistral and instrumentalist Ah Magic; illusion Illustrious industry Interdependent television Radio signals, Satelites Entropy Trophy wives, Fight clubs Back at nine Nick at night Every time is every time Time is all you need, and Time is on your side, if You just follow me Reader's remorse Writer's digest Try to sit still for a moment, Take a lesson From your friends here So when, then should I trade my Brand new pants in for a suit The bird said The cat damaged (I can't yet) Can of soup to open, Oh yes Cambells is it? Warhol knows best 02 I thought I told you I don't want to Owe you Are you Over it Somebody once told me You were holy Somebody once told me To hold onto Somebody once said Turn the light off But I've been trying To buy fire Someone's in the box, God Someone once told me Someone let me out—God? Someone once told me Fuck it, I just want to hold you I don't want to own you I just want to Someone once told me Beware of you Someone else told me Be there for you Someone once told me The hair of dog Ought to get you along I got handfuls of songs With no worlds yet Someone once told me Someone once told me Someone once told me Someone once told me. Someone's in the box, God Someone once told me Someone let me out—God? Someone once told me Somebody once told me You were holy Somebody once told me To hold onto I thought I told you I don't want to Owe you Are you Over it 03 I'm a multidimensional wordsmith Sike! I'm a psychopath wrecking your whole home Won't you wound my womb? (I won't go ) Won't you hold onto my world? (Why won't you?) Sorry, I slipped on the mat this morning Stumbling over you Thought it was afternoon Don't want to give you The news, cause you wrote it all Causes for dollars Indifference, disasters, sons Why won't you hold me like you used to? Why don't I know the answers to the crosswords? Why don't you meet me at the crossroads with your— No, no, Don't do that Don't call it home To be continued Where were you this morning, When I stumbled in To love you? She said At the forefront of your honor's worth If all you are's a wordsmith, m god unlock you Pen and paper Gun in holster Officer, Pull down the trigger Don't want to give you The news, cause you wrote it all Causes for dollars Indifference, disasters, sons No, no, Don't do that Don't call it home To be continued Once upon a time, All my eyes were brown (The money, the power, the respect) Now those days are gone The world is still round (At least I thought) The misery set in again They said the lows would come I did hate Mondays, after all With no sun to come up And look forward to Fast forward— Did you ever see that? Well, that is technically the back door. I almost forgot about that place. That's because it doesn't exist. It had to exist. Now I've seen it at least twice Hey! How'd you do that. Christ, he is a magician Oh yeah, Cosmos factory. They said the lows were coming. Maybe I needed them to finish that thing— I swear I missed Something The ghost (The other one, anyway) Dillon was a ghost, once No, ghost was the ghost, but we were —close. Good friends. Imaginary friends. Anyway. Fuck this nonsense. Nonsense, is it Just— Don't make me slit my wrists again. I remembered this day for something Wonder what. Maybe nothing I hate Mondays Guess this is the job, This is the job, I was wondering about the suit. So, are you a parrot, a puppet, or a mimick. I swear to god that's him. Good, Now I don't ever have to watch him. Oh shit, Fuck this playlist Are you sure “saved by the cowbell” God, I feel like shit, And I shouldn't be hungry But I'm starving inside For some loving Someone help me Somebody, something I'm suffering, suffocating Need him, Reeling, Reading Sinking, Feeling —but shouldn't be crying. I digress, however It was an interesting Day to digest God, I forgot about this— A whole soundtrack Jesus Christ, Bring it back; I like who your wife is —would you write that? Would you admit to dying on the cross once? Would you admit to admiring Ms, Robinson Would you wash out the Robin in Williams Look at Carson I defect to default Cracked asfault, to decadence Desire or what have you I haven't, I promise I would not admit to wanting, Something like a cupcake Something else is in there Figure it out Danger The five pointer approaches With heroic intolerance Suddenly, it's gone, God Mustn't be the Republicans, For the most part, I would want that For fear of the liberals, And my rent controlled apartment I've got two thumbs, too, You know I've got Jews up my ass for the asking I've got mom up my spine for the others Fucking assholes —so this is what it means to be married to the music, huh No one to really hold you, But I told you, I've got golden globes and Oscars Every morning Motorcycles for the morons I've got daughters for your doorknobs —Know you're sorry now Catch the drum pattern Your heart should stop fluttering With butter on it Weren't we all once prostitutes In foster care The others wouldn't dare To call a fountain out For the fountains— Busy training you Safe to say a savior says I do, And then doesn't For the most part I'm a woman With the wants And the body of a God FUCKING WATCH IT, CARSON but you got that all on a card, love. All on a card, fuck. What was your wish, You dumb motherfucker? Look what I got the other ones. Hi Cosmo. Hi Wanda. Awww. I love them. Dead drunk by tomorrow I hope, I choke on sunsets. He keeps taking you away someplace, Where is it? Does nobody else know this place? No. Nobody else can see this! Well, that's fucked up. I had a dream I was at your wake. That would be great. I wrote a scene where your obituary just said “lol” “lol” What! That's it?! Yeah. And It's not even capitalized! That's it, I've had enough. Throw the whole world away. What. just throw it away. Damn dog, You okay? No. I'm homeless. That's okay. You smell like a whole ass alien. What? Come to my place. I figured this would have more depth. I— Nevermind. It is, like torture, you know— this thing. I didn't do it on purpose. get oFF of me. getawayfromme. Okay, I'm taking my bread out of the freezer. You sure are eating a lot today . You sure are sounding like a pain in my big, fat, ass. I— That ought to shut you up. Look! CUMSLUTS! NICE. Get off of my boat. What. Aye-aye, captain. (Duck dives) Wait. What just happened? Mi think I might have— Great, Now there are things about this— I can't even write. This secret dies with me. Kill that bitch. Fucking great. So, Where were you on 9/11 again? I'll deal with this later. I gotta go. Wait, where are you going? Fuck you, that's where. Wait! If you saw me hanging from the rafters Would you ahoot to kill Or come to shoot me down? At long last, Disaster Are there tears in your denial As the memorandum sets in? Neither there or neither farther am I Father, Can you call again? I haven't heard you yet Besides the heart drops When the beat falls out If I hang myself Like pendulum From the old bank walls Would you watch me swing Or come to cut me down Don't doubt the alter If it were the birds Coming for the crumbs Would you ponder any longer Whether they were all of one feather Come now Don't doubt the alter Don't fear the weapons Don't worry, mother I'm coming to kill you Uh, I'm gonna wait on dinner. FUCK, What the fuck was I saying? FUCK. I hate this dude. FUCK. Come on, you stupid —biiitch! I hate this dragon. Almost as much as I hate— You know what? What? Forget it. I'm not doing this. What why not!? I'm gonna get killed for this. You're in the Illuminati; you're gonna get killed anyway. Yeah, but not for this! Let's hope! Who know, though! UGH; SHUT UP. GET IN HERE. I hate the sound of your name Like an unheard whisper Unanswered I could never call to A cavern Righteous, Unwanted What was is, though. Something about a wheelbarrow' I just went surfing Hit the surface from underwater Shook out the slumber What was it worth, God? What were the words for? Fuck, A shapeshifter and a telepath? How many people have that? Not that many. How many people know about this? Enough. FUCK. Oh, look whose swearing. I solemnly swear— Don't tell NOBODY. I ain't telling nobody about this. Good. Now get out. I'm gonna kill this sonofabitch. SON OF A—BITCH. That's it. Kill him. Where's my gun? Did you check the fridge? No. [THE IMPENETRABLE TEN ENTER the KITCHEN] What?! All ten of them?! I fucking guess. —but DANE COOK *kicking down door* FUCK! Goddammit it We missed her. OR—him. Her? Him? I don't know. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST What is it? It's a pilot! Oh shit, should I shoot him? Not a helicopter pilot! A TV pilot, For what?! Tv is dead. Streaming is where its out, It's for me! I'm in it! Oh! What! Let me see. (In the fridge) …what is this? [from the bedroom/studio] Hey you guys! What. What happened? What's up! YOU SHOULD SEE THIS. Love is not blind, And neither am I It's like that sometimes, always Tip of the tongue, The art of the lie, It's like that sometimes, Always A tale of all tales A sign of the times It's like that always, sometimes I forgot to forget I saw you; I forgot to forget I know you I forgot to forget I love you I forgot to forgive, I want you Shut the door, Let the lights turn off Turn the page —till the sun comes up Something real Something wrong I forgot Something strange Something weird I'm in love Write the song Love is not blind, And neither am I It's like that sometimes, always Tip of the tongue, The art of the lie, It's like that sometimes, Always A tale of all tales A sign of the times It's like that always, sometimes I forgot to forget I saw you; I forgot to forget I know you I forgot to forget I love you I forgot to forgive, I want you Shut the door, Let the lights turn off Turn the page —till the sun comes up Something real Something wrong I forgot Up is up Down is down Right is right Wrong is wrong Black is white Dark is light Right is wrong I love you My house is normal now, With a table and chairs But I don't call it home Cause I know They'll throw me to the curb Leave in in the road Like the animal I am You don't know what the world does When she's off work You don't know how the world acts When she's off her axis It's okay to take hiatus Instead of medication It's okay to call the cops on motorcycle It's okay to die Before you see your son When Sunday comes Just call your mom on Monday Doctor visits EMTs and emergencies Epics and Epochs Long lost love songs to god And Cardinal Directions Reflections in mirrors Table toppers for all the dramas All the months you lost On muttered mantras {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

“The New Adventures of Old Supacree” This is not what I intentioned. Well, what had you intentioned, dammit , how do you spell her name? Spell it? I can barely say it! “C'cx– WRONG. How would you say this name. Axel? Thas' a stupid name Not for a Rockstar. That's already a rockstar Is it? Whatever, man. The Rock must have been buzzing in some sort of special way on this day; because for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I had finally rearranged the remainder of my seemingly new surroundings— the miniature Keurig— a status symbol, of course— looked handsome on the work desk— the cat tree seemed to match, though with no actual feesible monetary income,, no actual cat, and no end in sight— the tree itself would have to be enough to lift my spirits. It was a nice cat tree, almost untouched and looking very brand new— though the couch had a few scratches, though easily hidden with the decorative use of a couple throws—at least I had a couch, and all that was left to accomplish before fully enjoying was to arrange an order of Febreeze to rid it of its previous owner's dandruff smell, and general mismanagement—besides that, it was itself almost brand new as well, and it seemed a strange new world to wake up in, after sleeping in a nearly empty apartment for 6 months; there was 6 months left in my lease, and I was getting nervous that they would try to push me out—hopefully I would find someplace better, or at the very least higher up—with the same amenities intact. Still, I was working as diligently as in could on organizing—at least the recordings, to put together the next group of projects as quickly as I could— nevermind the writing—and there was so, so much of it, I hadn't a clue what to do. I had been avoiding Rockefeller Plaza like the plague for quite sometime—it always made me nervous in a sort of way I didn't understand, in that I would pulsate and vibrate differently, and more often times than not, was upset and concerned that I had yet to go to the top—a costly feat—nor could I afford to entertain or enjoy any of the amusements at the bottom—not that I wanted to, as the older I got, and especially the longer time spent in New York, the more off putting the public and large crowds were—particularly after a remarkably disgusting respiratory infection I caught on new years, battling a crowd which became impossible to move through at all—let alone see the ball drop—and I had learned my lesson, especially after The Macy's Day parade; the crowds in New York were disgustingly unbearable, and in order to get a good view of anything, you would have to arrive nearly a full day early, and simply camp—now I knew why people packed around collapsible lawn chairs on holiday weekends. I had been blindsided by Fallon towards the end of the Macy's day parade—I hadn't any clue at all that he apparentlyboarticipated annually, as it had been years since I had watched the parade myself with my parents—and still, it was iconic—I always wanted to go. Still, and even though I had only written very little of him up to that point, I found it disasterous that as his name was announced and the float which carried him and The Roots, the best late night band on Television, not by opinion, but by fact—as I had most recently been studying and researching as thoroughly as I could all of the late night hosts since the dawning of Television in preparation to write this pilot, The TV People, short handed to TVP—and just then I recalled a dream from the night before, about Pat Kirkpatrick—for the first time in the dream world, it wasn't Fallon at all, but Pat Kirkpatrick. I couldn't remember the dream, nor could I seemingly work myself out of the rut that had been the plateau in writing the show—the show itself was heavy, with so many characters, all of which each had been given detailed and specific personalities, livelihoods, and backgrounds—in fact, I hadn't written anything in such a way since college, with detail—actually, I had never written anything so detailed at all, so character oriented that the character analyses filled entire pages of documents with excruciating vividness, as if these people were real. Well, now they were—and Fallon was neither Patrick as I was Esha, and the story has taken its own form, still however birthing an incredibly awkward and romanticized fascination and near obsession with the TV people themselves—not that I would feed it to be so. I blocked out the news outlets, the media, the alrogithm's suggestions to watch bits and pieces of Fallon, though, however, I refused, and somehow, I didn't need it. Fearfully so, he was somewhere lodged deep somewhere inside of me—and I was even sort of embarrassed to have written some of the things I had of his essence, however prophetic it seemed to be, that for about a three week period between April and May, I seemed to have gone off into a trance of sorts, writing for hours and experiencing vivid visions of this show, The TV Prople, alongside writing The Festival Project ™ And all of its markers—there were so many worlds, so many ways throughout them—and now as I had realized, I had actually been writing about Fallon nearly as long as I had been writing about Sonny, but differently. I had never of course come face to face with Fallon as I had the latter—and still—found it somewhat nessecary to hide my face beneath a mask as his float passed my viewing spaf , an elevated view from the staircase of some church, which had happened to be perfect—and although I was certain it's not as if he was looking for or at me—I had just then been writing of this Cosmic Avenger, and hadn't any idea at the time of Fallon in reality having been an actual magician, and still— with cameras everywhere, and knowing even what I had written—I didn't want to be caught by any passing cameras with any sort of blush or worse—a smile on my face as the float passed— a smile which would flash my atrocious gap-tooth and crooked smile I was sure was permanent, by then having been in the homeless shelter nearly a year. As soon as his name was announced, I promptly pulled up my mask, hiding under my sunglasses. I had already been caught on camera earlier in the parade gawking at some float—now was not the time to be caught gawking again. He, like Rob Lowe seemed impeccably professional and well-rehearsed, like a cartoon character— he was, after all, kind of a cartoon character, however now, even if it was partly due to my own writing, I took him more seriously. There was a darkness about him— a sometimes glassy-eyed, almost scary darkness that told me, even a world away, not to fuck with this dude—some kind of animal or monster I was sure we both shared, however mine more the type and category of insatable and undernourished and his more peaking its head out in the form of a multi-millionaire network puppet, which housed an untamable powerhouse of musicianship, manhood, and wit— it's true, I was finally scared of him, knowing after all what the true tears of a clown could be, a dangerous man in a uniformed suit, the Everyman for the programmed masses, and the funny man with a jig to dance, a story to tell, and an indoor life— secret realm within I was sure no one knew. I fed the monster with respect to the home, happy wife, and children— I, after all, loved love, and only wanted it for myself, leaving alone the parts of a man I had found and was sure was broken enough to have left me puzzled and star studded rather than struck as I always was, tears welling up at the thought of it that something should be mended neither I or anything I was could not fix—I continued to write, however, knowing I was walking on glass barefoot and tiptoeing on eggshells around the mass media conglomerate of the network that stood between my feeble world and his, the higher ups— and beyond: it was, after all, a level system— and now with a beautifully decorated and fully apartment, besides my mattress on the floor instead of the space saving loft bed I had wanted—though it looked just right with the piano bench as a headboard, housing my crystals and new globe, plus a colorful collection of books I could crack open as I awoke to the morning light, no longer so early but increasingly later, as I shifted into the insomniatic habits of a true DJ and music producer, still writing and reading in the mornings, however— I had to wonder what level I was truly on. My apartment looked like a home. The decor was better than I could have imagined myself even, the tasteful furnishings and modern elegance shifting my reality— no longer an empty apartment, now a fashionable hub for art and creation. I assumed the cat would come along in the winter, with any hopes that I would finish my albums by then—and also looming over me— my last life, and the people in it struggling to call up to me in this very ascended realm, which I was lucky to inhabit. ‘Thank you God for your many blessings' My wishes it seemed, had been granted— magic did indeed seem real, and though I had an Amazon return packages and ready to go— there wasn't a time and place I could see myself as ready to even be near The Rock, some festering bulletwound in my heart, all that I had written, not just of Fallon, but of the rest of the people I had honored by word mark but had not yet the status or wealth to have ever known as human at all, but more products of the program; with intention, however, it was the path I had followed to be destined here somehow though small codes and doorways, signals and symbols which called to me and seemed only I could see—but were there in plain sight, and with the right eyes, had meant more than I ever dreamed anything could— open doors to a world I had indeed created myself, and in turn, the world in which I lived had also been created around me. I had to, in my mind, find the light inside all of whom I studied, to humanize myself—nurturing some fascination of fame and celebrity inside which still stood unanswered, the question of why and how one becomes so high up that without trying, that I might continue to find them in my mind's eye and in my world, on the outside, time after time. —tales of a superstar DJ. The men with the littlest dicks Drive the loudest bikes And they talk too much About nothing To no one The men with the littlest dicks Do the littlest things I call it niggardly Dispite the color Follow the leader To instill fear Within earshot The men with the littlest dicks Want the skinniest women The chicks who remind them of Innocence lost A childhood spent Getting boredom for freedom And allowences for doing nothing The men with the littlest dicks Do the littlest shit Like make everyone miserable Yes, it is a miserable existence, Never being wanted, however I should know better than this TINA FEY SON OF A BITCH. (Everyone's still drunk) What. Why, what happened? He got here before us. What?! How do you know? [pause] Okay. This weird detour is paying off in some kind of way— I'm still heavily obsessed with the fact that Johnny Carson referred to his weird drunken jacking off as “cranking it” ON TV. On something close to live television in like— The 80's Was it the 80's? I don't know, And apparently even Johnny Carson doesn't know, because he was “sauced”, So let's just go ahead and add that to the list of ghosts I have to track down for making me squeal like a little fucking schoolgirl. However, I'm half convinced, He's still around— Oh yes. I do believe these— THIS MAN— Oh, holy shit here it goes. HERE'S JOHNNY! Aw, fuck. I told you not do. What was I supposed to do—?! Not do it It was a blood oath— I told you— Mi had to do it. *shrugs* Well, now, you're fucked. STAY DOWN, MOTHERFUCKER. Ooh. This is gonna hurt. I swear to god, Every day of my life: I will KILL YOU YOU CANT KILL ME. AND EVERY DAY THAT YOU DO NOT DIE; I WILL JUST STAY DOWN, MOTHERFUCKER— DIE, MOTHERFUCKER— GO. TO. SLEEP. aaaaaGGGGHhHHHHHHHHHHHH. —I WILL KILL YOU . Don't give up! Seriously! Seriously, I got money on this.z Really? What. How much. Just $10. Oh. That's good Yeah, but it's the only cash I've had in months! I forgot what it was. I'm rich, Everything's cashless. Tickets! Get your tickets! Ze are cheaper here on ze black market. “The Black Market” How much for this one? $9 I'll take three. What the fuck is wrong with you? I WILL KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP. I'M A DJ, BITCH. I DONT SLEEP. Have you ever thought about . What you're gonna be— When you die? Yeah. I've been thinking about it a lot. Okay, what is it. I get three right? Right, yeah. A Superstar DJ. Okay, that's good. What else? A rockstar Okay, what else? A mom. That's it? Yeah, man. I die and gone to heaven, right? Right. So that's it. What's the wager? Four horses. Got it. What exactly brings you here to bargain? My fat and heavy nuts. No questions asked. —tales of a Supersrar DJ VO I didn't know he called back. I didn't even see the message. I feel like such a piece of shit. I am a piece of shit. Worthless. My eyes itch, My nose bleeds My heart hurts now, I'm all gone Dark on Mondays All gone Gone till Sunday All done I was never an good mother No Just a ghost with a gun I was never on top of the world, son Just under it Now I'm all out of something I can't put my hand on And I'm all out of love, No one wants me Imm washed up One hand on the guitar One foot in the door And one head in the oven I'm all done I'm all done My eye itches My nose bleeds The noose loosens, I fall down I'm so stuck on an old number I'm so lost that I'm found now. —I'm so sorry But no one else is Tie me to the bed And watch me bleed So full of disinterest and vinegar Remember to tie me to the crossword In the times tomorrow Four rainbows for your dumb luck A forced fuck from one goat The other still doesn't row well It's a long boat It's a long story It goes untold They all turn to the one who wants to hurt me In the long run Nobody will ever love me again So I'm told Might as well find a bottle of ferment To grow up in Swallow bottles of old wine With a sour tongue Unremarkable SHOUT! Defamed you, Heroism in the— Never hatred, but indifference, Circumstances. Circumcisions Misdirection, Big decisions Defense strategy? To exit— Just as quickly as it all begins to fade away Nearly as quickly as it started, Newfound freedom near the exit, After happenstance, Never afraid to admit to neglect Selected supplies, For fear of the eye Goddammit it, late night people Of course; when was it last you saw letterman on a surfboard? Almost never? Forget to fear them, The men in mirrors, The sharks in surfboards, The writer's block, over The rockstar on opioids Does it hurt anybody else this much to just stand here If Tweety's the Canarybird, When who am I to call myself a cat, Sylvester! The silver streaks in his hair, The glaze in his eyes The break in his heart The health of the hoax FUCK YOU FALLON I hope your ratings went up Just a bit Just a bit I hope you CRANK THIS Up in your car While I forgot about you I hope the peanut butter goes with the jelly The couch fits with the vision covers The cookies go with the coffee haven't mopped the floor yet, of course All out of Pablo santo For your information I just didn't make the grade Cause teacher hates me I still haven't found a mate With every amen I hate me Almost as much as I hate myself And I So I can't be God itself Cause I love that thing Alright? Amen! Can I have a can opener or three to set the record straight Can I scratch as fast as I sniff up every tear Every line of cocaine Every autograph? No you can't. Just know that my landlord has a thougsand bathrooms I can't find my hat, my gun— And where the fuck are the bananas CONAN O BRIEN EXCUSE MY FRENCH, BUT FUCK YOU, WOAAAAAH, CONAN! WOAH! WHAT DID I DO?! You— You fucked up the entire fucking ecosystem With CUMSLUTS! WHAT THE FUCK, BRO! Can you even SAY any of that?! I just did! Which network do you work for?! Where's Fallon at?! he's dead, bro! He's dead?! Yeah! For what?! I don't know. I just found out. Well. What happened. Someone shot him. Again?! Yeah, but like, way worse this time. So they finally got him, ah? No, he died of a heart attack. What! Then they shot him. What. That doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense. This scene is running long. I thought so. DIRECTOR CUT. That was great. Thanks. Except—Conan. Yes? You're too tall. What? Next. Take I want you to try it— Like— Just the way you just did it— Uh huh But smaller: What do you mean? Like, less tall. Oh. Alright. BREAK FOR LUNCH. “The Everymans” 01 I'll know why soon I'm sure It hurts with every word You're sleeping on my floor I'm fuming in the north My foot goes through the door Where were you then, When the mystery ends When the miser's the minister, Mistral and instrumentalist Ah Magic; illusion Illustrious industry Interdependent television Radio signals, Satelites Entropy Trophy wives, Fight clubs Back at nine Nick at night Every time is every time Time is all you need, and Time is on your side, if You just follow me Reader's remorse Writer's digest Try to sit still for a moment, Take a lesson From your friends here So when, then should I trade my Brand new pants in for a suit The bird said The cat damaged (I can't yet) Can of soup to open, Oh yes Cambells is it? Warhol knows best 02 I thought I told you I don't want to Owe you Are you Over it Somebody once told me You were holy Somebody once told me To hold onto Somebody once said Turn the light off But I've been trying To buy fire Someone's in the box, God Someone once told me Someone let me out—God? Someone once told me Fuck it, I just want to hold you I don't want to own you I just want to Someone once told me Beware of you Someone else told me Be there for you Someone once told me The hair of dog Ought to get you along I got handfuls of songs With no worlds yet Someone once told me Someone once told me Someone once told me Someone once told me. Someone's in the box, God Someone once told me Someone let me out—God? Someone once told me Somebody once told me You were holy Somebody once told me To hold onto I thought I told you I don't want to Owe you Are you Over it 03 I'm a multidimensional wordsmith Sike! I'm a psychopath wrecking your whole home Won't you wound my womb? (I won't go ) Won't you hold onto my world? (Why won't you?) Sorry, I slipped on the mat this morning Stumbling over you Thought it was afternoon Don't want to give you The news, cause you wrote it all Causes for dollars Indifference, disasters, sons Why won't you hold me like you used to? Why don't I know the answers to the crosswords? Why don't you meet me at the crossroads with your— No, no, Don't do that Don't call it home To be continued Where were you this morning, When I stumbled in To love you? She said At the forefront of your honor's worth If all you are's a wordsmith, m god unlock you Pen and paper Gun in holster Officer, Pull down the trigger Don't want to give you The news, cause you wrote it all Causes for dollars Indifference, disasters, sons No, no, Don't do that Don't call it home To be continued Once upon a time, All my eyes were brown (The money, the power, the respect) Now those days are gone The world is still round (At least I thought) The misery set in again They said the lows would come I did hate Mondays, after all With no sun to come up And look forward to Fast forward— Did you ever see that? Well, that is technically the back door. I almost forgot about that place. That's because it doesn't exist. It had to exist. Now I've seen it at least twice Hey! How'd you do that. Christ, he is a magician Oh yeah, Cosmos factory. They said the lows were coming. Maybe I needed them to finish that thing— I swear I missed Something The ghost (The other one, anyway) Dillon was a ghost, once No, ghost was the ghost, but we were —close. Good friends. Imaginary friends. Anyway. Fuck this nonsense. Nonsense, is it Just— Don't make me slit my wrists again. I remembered this day for something Wonder what. Maybe nothing I hate Mondays Guess this is the job, This is the job, I was wondering about the suit. So, are you a parrot, a puppet, or a mimick. I swear to god that's him. Good, Now I don't ever have to watch him. Oh shit, Fuck this playlist Are you sure “saved by the cowbell” God, I feel like shit, And I shouldn't be hungry But I'm starving inside For some loving Someone help me Somebody, something I'm suffering, suffocating Need him, Reeling, Reading Sinking, Feeling —but shouldn't be crying. I digress, however It was an interesting Day to digest God, I forgot about this— A whole soundtrack Jesus Christ, Bring it back; I like who your wife is —would you write that? Would you admit to dying on the cross once? Would you admit to admiring Ms, Robinson Would you wash out the Robin in Williams Look at Carson I defect to default Cracked asfault, to decadence Desire or what have you I haven't, I promise I would not admit to wanting, Something like a cupcake Something else is in there Figure it out Danger The five pointer approaches With heroic intolerance Suddenly, it's gone, God Mustn't be the Republicans, For the most part, I would want that For fear of the liberals, And my rent controlled apartment I've got two thumbs, too, You know I've got Jews up my ass for the asking I've got mom up my spine for the others Fucking assholes —so this is what it means to be married to the music, huh No one to really hold you, But I told you, I've got golden globes and Oscars Every morning Motorcycles for the morons I've got daughters for your doorknobs —Know you're sorry now Catch the drum pattern Your heart should stop fluttering With butter on it Weren't we all once prostitutes In foster care The others wouldn't dare To call a fountain out For the fountains— Busy training you Safe to say a savior says I do, And then doesn't For the most part I'm a woman With the wants And the body of a God FUCKING WATCH IT, CARSON but you got that all on a card, love. All on a card, fuck. What was your wish, You dumb motherfucker? Look what I got the other ones. Hi Cosmo. Hi Wanda. Awww. I love them. Dead drunk by tomorrow I hope, I choke on sunsets. He keeps taking you away someplace, Where is it? Does nobody else know this place? No. Nobody else can see this! Well, that's fucked up. I had a dream I was at your wake. That would be great. I wrote a scene where your obituary just said “lol” “lol” What! That's it?! Yeah. And It's not even capitalized! That's it, I've had enough. Throw the whole world away. What. just throw it away. Damn dog, You okay? No. I'm homeless. That's okay. You smell like a whole ass alien. What? Come to my place. I figured this would have more depth. I— Nevermind. It is, like torture, you know— this thing. I didn't do it on purpose. get oFF of me. getawayfromme. Okay, I'm taking my bread out of the freezer. You sure are eating a lot today . You sure are sounding like a pain in my big, fat, ass. I— That ought to shut you up. Look! CUMSLUTS! NICE. Get off of my boat. What. Aye-aye, captain. (Duck dives) Wait. What just happened? Mi think I might have— Great, Now there are things about this— I can't even write. This secret dies with me. Kill that bitch. Fucking great. So, Where were you on 9/11 again? I'll deal with this later. I gotta go. Wait, where are you going? Fuck you, that's where. Wait! If you saw me hanging from the rafters Would you ahoot to kill Or come to shoot me down? At long last, Disaster Are there tears in your denial As the memorandum sets in? Neither there or neither farther am I Father, Can you call again? I haven't heard you yet Besides the heart drops When the beat falls out If I hang myself Like pendulum From the old bank walls Would you watch me swing Or come to cut me down Don't doubt the alter If it were the birds Coming for the crumbs Would you ponder any longer Whether they were all of one feather Come now Don't doubt the alter Don't fear the weapons Don't worry, mother I'm coming to kill you Uh, I'm gonna wait on dinner. FUCK, What the fuck was I saying? FUCK. I hate this dude. FUCK. Come on, you stupid —biiitch! I hate this dragon. Almost as much as I hate— You know what? What? Forget it. I'm not doing this. What why not!? I'm gonna get killed for this. You're in the Illuminati; you're gonna get killed anyway. Yeah, but not for this! Let's hope! Who know, though! UGH; SHUT UP. GET IN HERE. I hate the sound of your name Like an unheard whisper Unanswered I could never call to A cavern Righteous, Unwanted What was is, though. Something about a wheelbarrow' I just went surfing Hit the surface from underwater Shook out the slumber What was it worth, God? What were the words for? Fuck, A shapeshifter and a telepath? How many people have that? Not that many. How many people know about this? Enough. FUCK. Oh, look whose swearing. I solemnly swear— Don't tell NOBODY. I ain't telling nobody about this. Good. Now get out. I'm gonna kill this sonofabitch. SON OF A—BITCH. That's it. Kill him. Where's my gun? Did you check the fridge? No. [THE IMPENETRABLE TEN ENTER the KITCHEN] What?! All ten of them?! I fucking guess. —but DANE COOK *kicking down door* FUCK! Goddammit it We missed her. OR—him. Her? Him? I don't know. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST What is it? It's a pilot! Oh shit, should I shoot him? Not a helicopter pilot! A TV pilot, For what?! Tv is dead. Streaming is where its out, It's for me! I'm in it! Oh! What! Let me see. (In the fridge) …what is this? [from the bedroom/studio] Hey you guys! What. What happened? What's up! YOU SHOULD SEE THIS. Love is not blind, And neither am I It's like that sometimes, always Tip of the tongue, The art of the lie, It's like that sometimes, Always A tale of all tales A sign of the times It's like that always, sometimes I forgot to forget I saw you; I forgot to forget I know you I forgot to forget I love you I forgot to forgive, I want you Shut the door, Let the lights turn off Turn the page —till the sun comes up Something real Something wrong I forgot Something strange Something weird I'm in love Write the song Love is not blind, And neither am I It's like that sometimes, always Tip of the tongue, The art of the lie, It's like that sometimes, Always A tale of all tales A sign of the times It's like that always, sometimes I forgot to forget I saw you; I forgot to forget I know you I forgot to forget I love you I forgot to forgive, I want you Shut the door, Let the lights turn off Turn the page —till the sun comes up Something real Something wrong I forgot Up is up Down is down Right is right Wrong is wrong Black is white Dark is light Right is wrong I love you My house is normal now, With a table and chairs But I don't call it home Cause I know They'll throw me to the curb Leave in in the road Like the animal I am You don't know what the world does When she's off work You don't know how the world acts When she's off her axis It's okay to take hiatus Instead of medication It's okay to call the cops on motorcycle It's okay to die Before you see your son When Sunday comes Just call your mom on Monday Doctor visits EMTs and emergencies Epics and Epochs Long lost love songs to god And Cardinal Directions Reflections in mirrors Table toppers for all the dramas All the months you lost On muttered mantras {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

“The New Adventures of Old Supacree” This is not what I intentioned. Well, what had you intentioned, dammit , how do you spell her name? Spell it? I can barely say it! “C'cx– WRONG. How would you say this name. Axel? Thas' a stupid name Not for a Rockstar. That's already a rockstar Is it? Whatever, man. The Rock must have been buzzing in some sort of special way on this day; because for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I had finally rearranged the remainder of my seemingly new surroundings— the miniature Keurig— a status symbol, of course— looked handsome on the work desk— the cat tree seemed to match, though with no actual feesible monetary income,, no actual cat, and no end in sight— the tree itself would have to be enough to lift my spirits. It was a nice cat tree, almost untouched and looking very brand new— though the couch had a few scratches, though easily hidden with the decorative use of a couple throws—at least I had a couch, and all that was left to accomplish before fully enjoying was to arrange an order of Febreeze to rid it of its previous owner's dandruff smell, and general mismanagement—besides that, it was itself almost brand new as well, and it seemed a strange new world to wake up in, after sleeping in a nearly empty apartment for 6 months; there was 6 months left in my lease, and I was getting nervous that they would try to push me out—hopefully I would find someplace better, or at the very least higher up—with the same amenities intact. Still, I was working as diligently as in could on organizing—at least the recordings, to put together the next group of projects as quickly as I could— nevermind the writing—and there was so, so much of it, I hadn't a clue what to do. I had been avoiding Rockefeller Plaza like the plague for quite sometime—it always made me nervous in a sort of way I didn't understand, in that I would pulsate and vibrate differently, and more often times than not, was upset and concerned that I had yet to go to the top—a costly feat—nor could I afford to entertain or enjoy any of the amusements at the bottom—not that I wanted to, as the older I got, and especially the longer time spent in New York, the more off putting the public and large crowds were—particularly after a remarkably disgusting respiratory infection I caught on new years, battling a crowd which became impossible to move through at all—let alone see the ball drop—and I had learned my lesson, especially after The Macy's Day parade; the crowds in New York were disgustingly unbearable, and in order to get a good view of anything, you would have to arrive nearly a full day early, and simply camp—now I knew why people packed around collapsible lawn chairs on holiday weekends. I had been blindsided by Fallon towards the end of the Macy's day parade—I hadn't any clue at all that he apparentlyboarticipated annually, as it had been years since I had watched the parade myself with my parents—and still, it was iconic—I always wanted to go. Still, and even though I had only written very little of him up to that point, I found it disasterous that as his name was announced and the float which carried him and The Roots, the best late night band on Television, not by opinion, but by fact—as I had most recently been studying and researching as thoroughly as I could all of the late night hosts since the dawning of Television in preparation to write this pilot, The TV People, short handed to TVP—and just then I recalled a dream from the night before, about Pat Kirkpatrick—for the first time in the dream world, it wasn't Fallon at all, but Pat Kirkpatrick. I couldn't remember the dream, nor could I seemingly work myself out of the rut that had been the plateau in writing the show—the show itself was heavy, with so many characters, all of which each had been given detailed and specific personalities, livelihoods, and backgrounds—in fact, I hadn't written anything in such a way since college, with detail—actually, I had never written anything so detailed at all, so character oriented that the character analyses filled entire pages of documents with excruciating vividness, as if these people were real. Well, now they were—and Fallon was neither Patrick as I was Esha, and the story has taken its own form, still however birthing an incredibly awkward and romanticized fascination and near obsession with the TV people themselves—not that I would feed it to be so. I blocked out the news outlets, the media, the alrogithm's suggestions to watch bits and pieces of Fallon, though, however, I refused, and somehow, I didn't need it. Fearfully so, he was somewhere lodged deep somewhere inside of me—and I was even sort of embarrassed to have written some of the things I had of his essence, however prophetic it seemed to be, that for about a three week period between April and May, I seemed to have gone off into a trance of sorts, writing for hours and experiencing vivid visions of this show, The TV Prople, alongside writing The Festival Project ™ And all of its markers—there were so many worlds, so many ways throughout them—and now as I had realized, I had actually been writing about Fallon nearly as long as I had been writing about Sonny, but differently. I had never of course come face to face with Fallon as I had the latter—and still—found it somewhat nessecary to hide my face beneath a mask as his float passed my viewing spaf , an elevated view from the staircase of some church, which had happened to be perfect—and although I was certain it's not as if he was looking for or at me—I had just then been writing of this Cosmic Avenger, and hadn't any idea at the time of Fallon in reality having been an actual magician, and still— with cameras everywhere, and knowing even what I had written—I didn't want to be caught by any passing cameras with any sort of blush or worse—a smile on my face as the float passed— a smile which would flash my atrocious gap-tooth and crooked smile I was sure was permanent, by then having been in the homeless shelter nearly a year. As soon as his name was announced, I promptly pulled up my mask, hiding under my sunglasses. I had already been caught on camera earlier in the parade gawking at some float—now was not the time to be caught gawking again. He, like Rob Lowe seemed impeccably professional and well-rehearsed, like a cartoon character— he was, after all, kind of a cartoon character, however now, even if it was partly due to my own writing, I took him more seriously. There was a darkness about him— a sometimes glassy-eyed, almost scary darkness that told me, even a world away, not to fuck with this dude—some kind of animal or monster I was sure we both shared, however mine more the type and category of insatable and undernourished and his more peaking its head out in the form of a multi-millionaire network puppet, which housed an untamable powerhouse of musicianship, manhood, and wit— it's true, I was finally scared of him, knowing after all what the true tears of a clown could be, a dangerous man in a uniformed suit, the Everyman for the programmed masses, and the funny man with a jig to dance, a story to tell, and an indoor life— secret realm within I was sure no one knew. I fed the monster with respect to the home, happy wife, and children— I, after all, loved love, and only wanted it for myself, leaving alone the parts of a man I had found and was sure was broken enough to have left me puzzled and star studded rather than struck as I always was, tears welling up at the thought of it that something should be mended neither I or anything I was could not fix—I continued to write, however, knowing I was walking on glass barefoot and tiptoeing on eggshells around the mass media conglomerate of the network that stood between my feeble world and his, the higher ups— and beyond: it was, after all, a level system— and now with a beautifully decorated and fully apartment, besides my mattress on the floor instead of the space saving loft bed I had wanted—though it looked just right with the piano bench as a headboard, housing my crystals and new globe, plus a colorful collection of books I could crack open as I awoke to the morning light, no longer so early but increasingly later, as I shifted into the insomniatic habits of a true DJ and music producer, still writing and reading in the mornings, however— I had to wonder what level I was truly on. My apartment looked like a home. The decor was better than I could have imagined myself even, the tasteful furnishings and modern elegance shifting my reality— no longer an empty apartment, now a fashionable hub for art and creation. I assumed the cat would come along in the winter, with any hopes that I would finish my albums by then—and also looming over me— my last life, and the people in it struggling to call up to me in this very ascended realm, which I was lucky to inhabit. ‘Thank you God for your many blessings' My wishes it seemed, had been granted— magic did indeed seem real, and though I had an Amazon return packages and ready to go— there wasn't a time and place I could see myself as ready to even be near The Rock, some festering bulletwound in my heart, all that I had written, not just of Fallon, but of the rest of the people I had honored by word mark but had not yet the status or wealth to have ever known as human at all, but more products of the program; with intention, however, it was the path I had followed to be destined here somehow though small codes and doorways, signals and symbols which called to me and seemed only I could see—but were there in plain sight, and with the right eyes, had meant more than I ever dreamed anything could— open doors to a world I had indeed created myself, and in turn, the world in which I lived had also been created around me. I had to, in my mind, find the light inside all of whom I studied, to humanize myself—nurturing some fascination of fame and celebrity inside which still stood unanswered, the question of why and how one becomes so high up that without trying, that I might continue to find them in my mind's eye and in my world, on the outside, time after time. —tales of a superstar DJ. The men with the littlest dicks Drive the loudest bikes And they talk too much About nothing To no one The men with the littlest dicks Do the littlest things I call it niggardly Dispite the color Follow the leader To instill fear Within earshot The men with the littlest dicks Want the skinniest women The chicks who remind them of Innocence lost A childhood spent Getting boredom for freedom And allowences for doing nothing The men with the littlest dicks Do the littlest shit Like make everyone miserable Yes, it is a miserable existence, Never being wanted, however I should know better than this TINA FEY SON OF A BITCH. (Everyone's still drunk) What. Why, what happened? He got here before us. What?! How do you know? [pause] Okay. This weird detour is paying off in some kind of way— I'm still heavily obsessed with the fact that Johnny Carson referred to his weird drunken jacking off as “cranking it” ON TV. On something close to live television in like— The 80's Was it the 80's? I don't know, And apparently even Johnny Carson doesn't know, because he was “sauced”, So let's just go ahead and add that to the list of ghosts I have to track down for making me squeal like a little fucking schoolgirl. However, I'm half convinced, He's still around— Oh yes. I do believe these— THIS MAN— Oh, holy shit here it goes. HERE'S JOHNNY! Aw, fuck. I told you not do. What was I supposed to do—?! Not do it It was a blood oath— I told you— Mi had to do it. *shrugs* Well, now, you're fucked. STAY DOWN, MOTHERFUCKER. Ooh. This is gonna hurt. I swear to god, Every day of my life: I will KILL YOU YOU CANT KILL ME. AND EVERY DAY THAT YOU DO NOT DIE; I WILL JUST STAY DOWN, MOTHERFUCKER— DIE, MOTHERFUCKER— GO. TO. SLEEP. aaaaaGGGGHhHHHHHHHHHHHH. —I WILL KILL YOU . Don't give up! Seriously! Seriously, I got money on this.z Really? What. How much. Just $10. Oh. That's good Yeah, but it's the only cash I've had in months! I forgot what it was. I'm rich, Everything's cashless. Tickets! Get your tickets! Ze are cheaper here on ze black market. “The Black Market” How much for this one? $9 I'll take three. What the fuck is wrong with you? I WILL KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP. I'M A DJ, BITCH. I DONT SLEEP. Have you ever thought about . What you're gonna be— When you die? Yeah. I've been thinking about it a lot. Okay, what is it. I get three right? Right, yeah. A Superstar DJ. Okay, that's good. What else? A rockstar Okay, what else? A mom. That's it? Yeah, man. I die and gone to heaven, right? Right. So that's it. What's the wager? Four horses. Got it. What exactly brings you here to bargain? My fat and heavy nuts. No questions asked. —tales of a Supersrar DJ VO I didn't know he called back. I didn't even see the message. I feel like such a piece of shit. I am a piece of shit. Worthless. My eyes itch, My nose bleeds My heart hurts now, I'm all gone Dark on Mondays All gone Gone till Sunday All done I was never an good mother No Just a ghost with a gun I was never on top of the world, son Just under it Now I'm all out of something I can't put my hand on And I'm all out of love, No one wants me Imm washed up One hand on the guitar One foot in the door And one head in the oven I'm all done I'm all done My eye itches My nose bleeds The noose loosens, I fall down I'm so stuck on an old number I'm so lost that I'm found now. —I'm so sorry But no one else is Tie me to the bed And watch me bleed So full of disinterest and vinegar Remember to tie me to the crossword In the times tomorrow Four rainbows for your dumb luck A forced fuck from one goat The other still doesn't row well It's a long boat It's a long story It goes untold They all turn to the one who wants to hurt me In the long run Nobody will ever love me again So I'm told Might as well find a bottle of ferment To grow up in Swallow bottles of old wine With a sour tongue Unremarkable SHOUT! Defamed you, Heroism in the— Never hatred, but indifference, Circumstances. Circumcisions Misdirection, Big decisions Defense strategy? To exit— Just as quickly as it all begins to fade away Nearly as quickly as it started, Newfound freedom near the exit, After happenstance, Never afraid to admit to neglect Selected supplies, For fear of the eye Goddammit it, late night people Of course; when was it last you saw letterman on a surfboard? Almost never? Forget to fear them, The men in mirrors, The sharks in surfboards, The writer's block, over The rockstar on opioids Does it hurt anybody else this much to just stand here If Tweety's the Canarybird, When who am I to call myself a cat, Sylvester! The silver streaks in his hair, The glaze in his eyes The break in his heart The health of the hoax FUCK YOU FALLON I hope your ratings went up Just a bit Just a bit I hope you CRANK THIS Up in your car While I forgot about you I hope the peanut butter goes with the jelly The couch fits with the vision covers The cookies go with the coffee haven't mopped the floor yet, of course All out of Pablo santo For your information I just didn't make the grade Cause teacher hates me I still haven't found a mate With every amen I hate me Almost as much as I hate myself And I So I can't be God itself Cause I love that thing Alright? Amen! Can I have a can opener or three to set the record straight Can I scratch as fast as I sniff up every tear Every line of cocaine Every autograph? No you can't. Just know that my landlord has a thougsand bathrooms I can't find my hat, my gun— And where the fuck are the bananas CONAN O BRIEN EXCUSE MY FRENCH, BUT FUCK YOU, WOAAAAAH, CONAN! WOAH! WHAT DID I DO?! You— You fucked up the entire fucking ecosystem With CUMSLUTS! WHAT THE FUCK, BRO! Can you even SAY any of that?! I just did! Which network do you work for?! Where's Fallon at?! he's dead, bro! He's dead?! Yeah! For what?! I don't know. I just found out. Well. What happened. Someone shot him. Again?! Yeah, but like, way worse this time. So they finally got him, ah? No, he died of a heart attack. What! Then they shot him. What. That doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense. This scene is running long. I thought so. DIRECTOR CUT. That was great. Thanks. Except—Conan. Yes? You're too tall. What? Next. Take I want you to try it— Like— Just the way you just did it— Uh huh But smaller: What do you mean? Like, less tall. Oh. Alright. BREAK FOR LUNCH. “The Everymans” 01 I'll know why soon I'm sure It hurts with every word You're sleeping on my floor I'm fuming in the north My foot goes through the door Where were you then, When the mystery ends When the miser's the minister, Mistral and instrumentalist Ah Magic; illusion Illustrious industry Interdependent television Radio signals, Satelites Entropy Trophy wives, Fight clubs Back at nine Nick at night Every time is every time Time is all you need, and Time is on your side, if You just follow me Reader's remorse Writer's digest Try to sit still for a moment, Take a lesson From your friends here So when, then should I trade my Brand new pants in for a suit The bird said The cat damaged (I can't yet) Can of soup to open, Oh yes Cambells is it? Warhol knows best 02 I thought I told you I don't want to Owe you Are you Over it Somebody once told me You were holy Somebody once told me To hold onto Somebody once said Turn the light off But I've been trying To buy fire Someone's in the box, God Someone once told me Someone let me out—God? Someone once told me Fuck it, I just want to hold you I don't want to own you I just want to Someone once told me Beware of you Someone else told me Be there for you Someone once told me The hair of dog Ought to get you along I got handfuls of songs With no worlds yet Someone once told me Someone once told me Someone once told me Someone once told me. Someone's in the box, God Someone once told me Someone let me out—God? Someone once told me Somebody once told me You were holy Somebody once told me To hold onto I thought I told you I don't want to Owe you Are you Over it 03 I'm a multidimensional wordsmith Sike! I'm a psychopath wrecking your whole home Won't you wound my womb? (I won't go ) Won't you hold onto my world? (Why won't you?) Sorry, I slipped on the mat this morning Stumbling over you Thought it was afternoon Don't want to give you The news, cause you wrote it all Causes for dollars Indifference, disasters, sons Why won't you hold me like you used to? Why don't I know the answers to the crosswords? Why don't you meet me at the crossroads with your— No, no, Don't do that Don't call it home To be continued Where were you this morning, When I stumbled in To love you? She said At the forefront of your honor's worth If all you are's a wordsmith, m god unlock you Pen and paper Gun in holster Officer, Pull down the trigger Don't want to give you The news, cause you wrote it all Causes for dollars Indifference, disasters, sons No, no, Don't do that Don't call it home To be continued Once upon a time, All my eyes were brown (The money, the power, the respect) Now those days are gone The world is still round (At least I thought) The misery set in again They said the lows would come I did hate Mondays, after all With no sun to come up And look forward to Fast forward— Did you ever see that? Well, that is technically the back door. I almost forgot about that place. That's because it doesn't exist. It had to exist. Now I've seen it at least twice Hey! How'd you do that. Christ, he is a magician Oh yeah, Cosmos factory. They said the lows were coming. Maybe I needed them to finish that thing— I swear I missed Something The ghost (The other one, anyway) Dillon was a ghost, once No, ghost was the ghost, but we were —close. Good friends. Imaginary friends. Anyway. Fuck this nonsense. Nonsense, is it Just— Don't make me slit my wrists again. I remembered this day for something Wonder what. Maybe nothing I hate Mondays Guess this is the job, This is the job, I was wondering about the suit. So, are you a parrot, a puppet, or a mimick. I swear to god that's him. Good, Now I don't ever have to watch him. Oh shit, Fuck this playlist Are you sure “saved by the cowbell” God, I feel like shit, And I shouldn't be hungry But I'm starving inside For some loving Someone help me Somebody, something I'm suffering, suffocating Need him, Reeling, Reading Sinking, Feeling —but shouldn't be crying. I digress, however It was an interesting Day to digest God, I forgot about this— A whole soundtrack Jesus Christ, Bring it back; I like who your wife is —would you write that? Would you admit to dying on the cross once? Would you admit to admiring Ms, Robinson Would you wash out the Robin in Williams Look at Carson I defect to default Cracked asfault, to decadence Desire or what have you I haven't, I promise I would not admit to wanting, Something like a cupcake Something else is in there Figure it out Danger The five pointer approaches With heroic intolerance Suddenly, it's gone, God Mustn't be the Republicans, For the most part, I would want that For fear of the liberals, And my rent controlled apartment I've got two thumbs, too, You know I've got Jews up my ass for the asking I've got mom up my spine for the others Fucking assholes —so this is what it means to be married to the music, huh No one to really hold you, But I told you, I've got golden globes and Oscars Every morning Motorcycles for the morons I've got daughters for your doorknobs —Know you're sorry now Catch the drum pattern Your heart should stop fluttering With butter on it Weren't we all once prostitutes In foster care The others wouldn't dare To call a fountain out For the fountains— Busy training you Safe to say a savior says I do, And then doesn't For the most part I'm a woman With the wants And the body of a God FUCKING WATCH IT, CARSON but you got that all on a card, love. All on a card, fuck. What was your wish, You dumb motherfucker? Look what I got the other ones. Hi Cosmo. Hi Wanda. Awww. I love them. Dead drunk by tomorrow I hope, I choke on sunsets. He keeps taking you away someplace, Where is it? Does nobody else know this place? No. Nobody else can see this! Well, that's fucked up. I had a dream I was at your wake. That would be great. I wrote a scene where your obituary just said “lol” “lol” What! That's it?! Yeah. And It's not even capitalized! That's it, I've had enough. Throw the whole world away. What. just throw it away. Damn dog, You okay? No. I'm homeless. That's okay. You smell like a whole ass alien. What? Come to my place. I figured this would have more depth. I— Nevermind. It is, like torture, you know— this thing. I didn't do it on purpose. get oFF of me. getawayfromme. Okay, I'm taking my bread out of the freezer. You sure are eating a lot today . You sure are sounding like a pain in my big, fat, ass. I— That ought to shut you up. Look! CUMSLUTS! NICE. Get off of my boat. What. Aye-aye, captain. (Duck dives) Wait. What just happened? Mi think I might have— Great, Now there are things about this— I can't even write. This secret dies with me. Kill that bitch. Fucking great. So, Where were you on 9/11 again? I'll deal with this later. I gotta go. Wait, where are you going? Fuck you, that's where. Wait! If you saw me hanging from the rafters Would you ahoot to kill Or come to shoot me down? At long last, Disaster Are there tears in your denial As the memorandum sets in? Neither there or neither farther am I Father, Can you call again? I haven't heard you yet Besides the heart drops When the beat falls out If I hang myself Like pendulum From the old bank walls Would you watch me swing Or come to cut me down Don't doubt the alter If it were the birds Coming for the crumbs Would you ponder any longer Whether they were all of one feather Come now Don't doubt the alter Don't fear the weapons Don't worry, mother I'm coming to kill you Uh, I'm gonna wait on dinner. FUCK, What the fuck was I saying? FUCK. I hate this dude. FUCK. Come on, you stupid —biiitch! I hate this dragon. Almost as much as I hate— You know what? What? Forget it. I'm not doing this. What why not!? I'm gonna get killed for this. You're in the Illuminati; you're gonna get killed anyway. Yeah, but not for this! Let's hope! Who know, though! UGH; SHUT UP. GET IN HERE. I hate the sound of your name Like an unheard whisper Unanswered I could never call to A cavern Righteous, Unwanted What was is, though. Something about a wheelbarrow' I just went surfing Hit the surface from underwater Shook out the slumber What was it worth, God? What were the words for? Fuck, A shapeshifter and a telepath? How many people have that? Not that many. How many people know about this? Enough. FUCK. Oh, look whose swearing. I solemnly swear— Don't tell NOBODY. I ain't telling nobody about this. Good. Now get out. I'm gonna kill this sonofabitch. SON OF A—BITCH. That's it. Kill him. Where's my gun? Did you check the fridge? No. [THE IMPENETRABLE TEN ENTER the KITCHEN] What?! All ten of them?! I fucking guess. —but DANE COOK *kicking down door* FUCK! Goddammit it We missed her. OR—him. Her? Him? I don't know. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST What is it? It's a pilot! Oh shit, should I shoot him? Not a helicopter pilot! A TV pilot, For what?! Tv is dead. Streaming is where its out, It's for me! I'm in it! Oh! What! Let me see. (In the fridge) …what is this? [from the bedroom/studio] Hey you guys! What. What happened? What's up! YOU SHOULD SEE THIS. Love is not blind, And neither am I It's like that sometimes, always Tip of the tongue, The art of the lie, It's like that sometimes, Always A tale of all tales A sign of the times It's like that always, sometimes I forgot to forget I saw you; I forgot to forget I know you I forgot to forget I love you I forgot to forgive, I want you Shut the door, Let the lights turn off Turn the page —till the sun comes up Something real Something wrong I forgot Something strange Something weird I'm in love Write the song Love is not blind, And neither am I It's like that sometimes, always Tip of the tongue, The art of the lie, It's like that sometimes, Always A tale of all tales A sign of the times It's like that always, sometimes I forgot to forget I saw you; I forgot to forget I know you I forgot to forget I love you I forgot to forgive, I want you Shut the door, Let the lights turn off Turn the page —till the sun comes up Something real Something wrong I forgot Up is up Down is down Right is right Wrong is wrong Black is white Dark is light Right is wrong I love you My house is normal now, With a table and chairs But I don't call it home Cause I know They'll throw me to the curb Leave in in the road Like the animal I am You don't know what the world does When she's off work You don't know how the world acts When she's off her axis It's okay to take hiatus Instead of medication It's okay to call the cops on motorcycle It's okay to die Before you see your son When Sunday comes Just call your mom on Monday Doctor visits EMTs and emergencies Epics and Epochs Long lost love songs to god And Cardinal Directions Reflections in mirrors Table toppers for all the dramas All the months you lost On muttered mantras {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

Holmberg's Morning Sickness - Guadalupe Squares - Friday May 17, 2024 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Holmberg's Morning Sickness - Guadalupe Squares - Friday May 17, 2024 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Get tickets to Two Hot Takes and Chris Klemens: The Problematic Tour New York City: https://concerts.livenation.com/event/00006028EB973066 Head to https://www.squarespace.com/UNHINGED to save 10% off your first purchase of a website or domain using code UNHINGED.Call the Unhinged line at (667) 577-0807 if you have a wild story, need advice or a debate settled, etcCaffeinated and ready to cruise, Chris joins Nurse Blake as they chat all things nursing, dive into the journey from medicine to comedy, guess illnesses based on WebMD symptoms, unpack the differences between nurses and doctors, talk all things NurseCon at sea, gush about men with large veins, dish on drag queens, navigate germaphobia, bond over Botched horror stories, gossip about secret nursing dynamics, revisit heartfelt prom moments, spill some salacious STI stories, discuss removing Febreeze cans from where they shouldn't be, debate hooking up with older gentlemen, and pour through the Unhinged citizen inbox.For audio episodes (PLEASE RATE AND REVIEW): https://link.chtbl.com/unhingedNeed advice or have a wild story? Email us unhingedwithchrisklemens@gmail.comSubmit your secrets: https://forms.gle/ZPtbT3EKFHQWpZ4K7Follow Unhinged with Chris Klemens:• http://instagram.com/unhingedwithchrisklemens • https://www.tiktok.com/@unhingedclips Produced by Chris Klemens (https://www.youtube.com/chris), Jake Wachtel (https://www.instagram.com/jacobwachtel/ ) & Justin Bretter (https://justinbretter.com)Filmed and Edited by Justin Bretter (https://www.instagram.com/fieldsobriety/)Special thanks to Jake Wachtel (https://www.noworriesentertainment.com/about-us-01) Please note that this episode may contain paid endorsements and advertisements for products and services. Individuals on the show may have a direct or indirect financial interest in products or services referred to in this episode.Produced by Dear Media.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Today, Angela and Rajah take you on a rollercoaster of laughs, insights, and hot topics that'll keep you coming back for more. In our Sugar Bowl segment, Angela shares her accidental habit of using Febreeze on the wet setting and not the mist setting. Meanwhile, Rajah connects the dots about the days of layaway and infomercials, where "5 easy payments" were the norm and today's necessity of buy now, pay later. We dive into some heavy hitters in the news, starting with the shocking Baltimore Key Bridge Collapse and the controversy surrounding the term "DEl." Plus, we discuss the recent incident involving six middle schoolers facing legal trouble after holding a mock slave auction – should parents be held accountable as well? We cover updates from the raids on Diddy's homes and what's to come. On a lighter note, we chat about Joy Taylor and Taylor Rooks discussing their dating preferences. It's a conversation you don't want to miss. But wait, there's more! We unravel the mystery behind Beyoncé's infamous 'Beyincé' sash and celebrate Cowboy Carter's long-awaited release today. Join us for humor, insight, and everything in between. Whether you're a regular listener or a first-time visitor, Talking Brown Sugar is your go-to podcast for all things sweet and spicy. Don't forget to subscribe and share the love with your friends – after all, the more, the merrier! If you have any questions or about Freaknik, Sweet Deets mentions, or topics you want us to discuss send them our way at talkingbrown.sugar@gmail.com or on social. Music by van_Wise from Pixabay. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/talking-brown-sugar/message

In this humdinger of an episode, Tim & Mike talk about surgery options for Tim's hand. They talk about preparations for the upcoming turkey season. And no, just because Febreeze says it kills all odors doesn't make it a good cover scent in the deer woods.  Welcome to the Backwoods Bowhunter Podcast. If you like bowhunting and backwoods humor, then you might have come to the right place. We do not take ourselves too seriously. Our style is for you to feel like you are sitting around the campfire with your buddies, tossin' back some cold beers, talking bowhunting and whatever else may come to mind. We keep it real, raw, and have some good ole fun.Follow along as we describe the ups and downs of a Whitetail hunting season sharing those experiences with you the listener. Unscripted and honest! Backwoods Bowhunter is proudly sponsored by:Titan Nutrition - use code "backwoods" at checkout to save 10% & free shippingGrab your bow and get after it!Get kids outdoors! Contact Backwoods BowhunterWebsite & Merch: backwoodsbowhunter.comFacebook: @backwoodsbowhunterpodcastOur FB Community Page: Major League BowhuntingInstagram: @backwoodsbowhunterpodcastTwitter: @BWBHPodcastEmail: backwoodsbowhunterpodcast@gmail.comConsider leaving us a review on Spotify or Apple Podcasts or wherever you get your podcastsThanks for listening!Grab your bow and get after it!

This week's bad boys include Julia's renty go plenty, Zoë's Nick Lachey Nick LaSHOULDN'T and a Mr. WWE Your Lawsuit, Vince McMahon.  CW: Sexual assault Resources for survivors and victims of sexual assault can be found at rainn.org

INTRODUCTIONThe first thing you should know about marriage is that there are no experts. I know that seems counterintuitive to what the rest of culture and society tells us, given that there is an entire genre of books at your local indie or corporate mega bookstore suggesting otherwise, but remember, we live in a world where reality TV exists, despite all of us accepting that it is manipulated, reshot, staged, choreographed, and edited for maximum dramatic appeal. Think about it: have you ever noticed how solid and comprehensive the prevailing wisdom is on marriage? The latitude of opinions regarding marriage is like the style latitude of an ancient mausoleum: austere, mossy, and mostly retrograde.This settling of critical consideration is even more surprising given that marriage is one of the most secretly amorphous and evolving things we have in our society. Sure, the fundamentals endure (holy matrimony, death do us part, The Bachelor franchise, etc..), but what it means to be married has shifted PRETTY sharply in just a few decades, not to mention a few centuries. As a contextual aside, in the lifetime of my mother, a woman who gave birth to me at the age of twenty-two, women had to fight for the right to be able to open their own bank account! Just seriously think about that for a second. In the same lifetime that we went to the moon (aided by women), we also wrestled with whether or not an entire gender could navigate the overwhelmingly complex binary of "deposit" and "withdrawal." And if we zoom back a century or two beyond my mother, the vibe of women was more akin to a "conversational farm animal" than it was something we see in a Nicholas Sparks movie.I say all that to emphasize two things: 1) the stupefyingly slow pace of progress and 2) how frozen in time we tend to be about social issues, especially the ones concerning and involving women. All that to say, it's essential to acknowledge that for a large portion of American culture, we're more or less taught that, as currently iterated, marriage is both ancient and straightforward, and all the lessons we need were known and articulated by the Desert Fathers of Judaism or Christian antiquity.The net effect of this topical reductionism is that for a person or couple seeking advice, most materials about marriage are books more watered down than the Titanic.Accordingly, these vaguely helpful and mostly recycled insights are a critical hurdle to clear because once we realize that there are no experts and once we realize that there is no precisely correct path to follow with our relationships, we are then allowed to unclench our collective butts about what our marriages or relationships should and should not look like. And for the record, butt-clenching isn't good for anyone, and it's uncomfortable. Sure, you may get defined glutes out of it, but is having defined glutes really all it's cracked up to be? It just feels like a lot of maintenance, and after a certain age, being known for your defined glutes just gets a little weird. Trust me; having a defined butt is a young person's game, so unclench away!At the time that I am writing this, my wife, Ashley, and I are celebrating 19 years of marriage, meaning that I've lived more life with Ashley than anyone else. This means that the state, the man, God, Oprah, Tom Cruise's Scientology, and any other authority figure you want to represent must acknowledge that Ashley and my relationship with her is the most foundational and consequential part of my life.This foundational-ness is a product of time spent together and of the accumulation of all types and varieties of experiences across 19 years: wonderful experiences, challenging experiences, hilarious experiences, absurd experiences, parenting experiences, disorienting experiences, pandemic experiences, screaming-into-pillows-out-of-anger experiences and so many other types of experiences all in between. And for me, throughout these 19 years and all manner of experiences, a light has been shined on where modern marital advice fails. For instance, most talk or writing about marriage focuses mainly on the relationship at the center of the marriage. On the surface, this makes sense because, after all, that relationship is the whole point. The union is the manifestation, the animating aspect, and the entire reason for being, so what else would you talk about? But in doing so, the requisite individuality that contributes to the relationship is usually ignored. There's so much focus on what the two individuals create together that more space is needed to see what it means for two separate and distinct variables of people to exist cohesively within the confines of the relationship. That's the most significant issue at the center of most marriages: not how to be together, but how to be together while being separate people.It just seems like if you are not going to acknowledge that every person brings their own trojan horse of baggage into a relationship to be opened up, only God knows when, then what even is the point of trying to talk about marriage? Because as much as no one wants to admit it, we all have baggage that must be dealt with. All the respect and sex in the world won't resolve preexisting issues of insecurity, desperation, delusions of grandeur, low self-esteem, or selfishness. That's like spraying Febreeze in a boys' locker room; it may take the edge off, but you're still left with the stink of feet, body odor, and now also Febreeze.The other place where modern marriage advice often fails is the generative process for marital advice to become canonized. It's insane because marriage advice is less regulated than NFTs and AI technology. Anybody can say anything about marriage, and if it is pithy, vaguely accurate, and gets repeated enough, suddenly, it's almost biblical in its inerrancy.At about this point, you might wonder if this is my pitch to be presented as a NEW YOUNGBLOOD EXPERT BOI in the lush content fields of marriage. If that sentiment reflects your concern or suspicion, please know that I am laughing in your face because the idea of Ashley and I as marital experts is as absurd as Jimbo Fisher's fully guaranteed contract at Texas A&M.Ashley and I are only now barely starting to understand the fundamental nature of our relationship. We love each other, support each other, and genuinely like being with each other, but having maintained that over nineteen years effectively means nothing relative to other relationships with their own specifications and nuances. Instead, anything I say or write about in this book comes from the perspective of two people who are just big fans of marriage and enthusiastic about people figuring out their own relationships. We hold no degrees or licenses to speak with any institutional authority on the topic. All we have is our own experiences and perspectives and the hope that something we've experienced or realized may be found to be helpful for someone else.To be honest, I was hesitant to write about this topic given that I didn't want to create the vibe of "HEY, EVERYONE, LOOK, I DID IT. I FIGURED OUT MARRIAGE." Instead, the vibe I wanted to create was in writing something that deconstructed the static, stale, and frankly misstated aspects of most modern marriage advice, not to just destroy something for the sake of destroying it, but to clear room for us to collectively and individually build something back that is more honest, more relevant, and more helpful when it comes to conversations about marriages.Also, no book agents wanted me to write about this either, specifically in this way and about the things in the following chapters. I wonder if it was more about the topicalities (unlikely) or the person executing those topicalities (VERY likely). Still, I did it anyway because deep down, I have a profoundly opaque and constant stubbornness in both my head and my heart and also because it just seemed to me that the longer people are married, the more withholding they tend to be about the unique contours and specific delineations of their relationship. Not because they don't want to help or are sequestered into silence by a deal with a bridge troll, but because they recognize a) how little they actually know and b) how uniquely specific what they've learned is to their own situation. And so, all we're left with are the crumbs of cliches and stale wisdom or books committed to speaking broadly about marriage and ultimately concluding that all you need is love, respect, and sex.It's true: marriages do need love, respect, and sex, but as it turns out, it's much more complicated than that, and yet also much more straightforward in other ways, which was one of the biggest motivations for me to write this book: to simplify the aspects of marriage that have been unnecessarily presented as complex while also giving space to the complicated elements that have been suggested as being simple. Because if there's anything Ashley and I have learned across 19 years of matrimony, it's that while each marriage might be a unique world specific unto itself, we all deserve better and more precise ways to talk about it. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit knoxmccoy.substack.com/subscribe

INTRODUCTIONThe first thing you should know about marriage is that there are no experts. I know that seems counterintuitive to what the rest of culture and society tells us, given that there is an entire genre of books at your local indie or corporate mega bookstore suggesting otherwise, but remember, we live in a world where reality TV exists, despite all of us accepting that it is manipulated, reshot, staged, choreographed, and edited for maximum dramatic appeal. Think about it: have you ever noticed how solid and comprehensive the prevailing wisdom is on marriage? The latitude of opinions regarding marriage is like the style latitude of an ancient mausoleum: austere, mossy, and mostly retrograde.This settling of critical consideration is even more surprising given that marriage is one of the most secretly amorphous and evolving things we have in our society. Sure, the fundamentals endure (holy matrimony, death do us part, The Bachelor franchise, etc..), but what it means to be married has shifted PRETTY sharply in just a few decades, not to mention a few centuries. As a contextual aside, in the lifetime of my mother, a woman who gave birth to me at the age of twenty-two, women had to fight for the right to be able to open their own bank account! Just seriously think about that for a second. In the same lifetime that we went to the moon (aided by women), we also wrestled with whether or not an entire gender could navigate the overwhelmingly complex binary of "deposit" and "withdrawal." And if we zoom back a century or two beyond my mother, the vibe of women was more akin to a "conversational farm animal" than it was something we see in a Nicholas Sparks movie.I say all that to emphasize two things: 1) the stupefyingly slow pace of progress and 2) how frozen in time we tend to be about social issues, especially the ones concerning and involving women. All that to say, it's essential to acknowledge that for a large portion of American culture, we're more or less taught that, as currently iterated, marriage is both ancient and straightforward, and all the lessons we need were known and articulated by the Desert Fathers of Judaism or Christian antiquity.The net effect of this topical reductionism is that for a person or couple seeking advice, most materials about marriage are books more watered down than the Titanic.Accordingly, these vaguely helpful and mostly recycled insights are a critical hurdle to clear because once we realize that there are no experts and once we realize that there is no precisely correct path to follow with our relationships, we are then allowed to unclench our collective butts about what our marriages or relationships should and should not look like. And for the record, butt-clenching isn't good for anyone, and it's uncomfortable. Sure, you may get defined glutes out of it, but is having defined glutes really all it's cracked up to be? It just feels like a lot of maintenance, and after a certain age, being known for your defined glutes just gets a little weird. Trust me; having a defined butt is a young person's game, so unclench away!At the time that I am writing this, my wife, Ashley, and I are celebrating 19 years of marriage, meaning that I've lived more life with Ashley than anyone else. This means that the state, the man, God, Oprah, Tom Cruise's Scientology, and any other authority figure you want to represent must acknowledge that Ashley and my relationship with her is the most foundational and consequential part of my life.This foundational-ness is a product of time spent together and of the accumulation of all types and varieties of experiences across 19 years: wonderful experiences, challenging experiences, hilarious experiences, absurd experiences, parenting experiences, disorienting experiences, pandemic experiences, screaming-into-pillows-out-of-anger experiences and so many other types of experiences all in between. And for me, throughout these 19 years and all manner of experiences, a light has been shined on where modern marital advice fails. For instance, most talk or writing about marriage focuses mainly on the relationship at the center of the marriage. On the surface, this makes sense because, after all, that relationship is the whole point. The union is the manifestation, the animating aspect, and the entire reason for being, so what else would you talk about? But in doing so, the requisite individuality that contributes to the relationship is usually ignored. There's so much focus on what the two individuals create together that more space is needed to see what it means for two separate and distinct variables of people to exist cohesively within the confines of the relationship. That's the most significant issue at the center of most marriages: not how to be together, but how to be together while being separate people.It just seems like if you are not going to acknowledge that every person brings their own trojan horse of baggage into a relationship to be opened up, only God knows when, then what even is the point of trying to talk about marriage? Because as much as no one wants to admit it, we all have baggage that must be dealt with. All the respect and sex in the world won't resolve preexisting issues of insecurity, desperation, delusions of grandeur, low self-esteem, or selfishness. That's like spraying Febreeze in a boys' locker room; it may take the edge off, but you're still left with the stink of feet, body odor, and now also Febreeze.The other place where modern marriage advice often fails is the generative process for marital advice to become canonized. It's insane because marriage advice is less regulated than NFTs and AI technology. Anybody can say anything about marriage, and if it is pithy, vaguely accurate, and gets repeated enough, suddenly, it's almost biblical in its inerrancy.At about this point, you might wonder if this is my pitch to be presented as a NEW YOUNGBLOOD EXPERT BOI in the lush content fields of marriage. If that sentiment reflects your concern or suspicion, please know that I am laughing in your face because the idea of Ashley and I as marital experts is as absurd as Jimbo Fisher's fully guaranteed contract at Texas A&M.Ashley and I are only now barely starting to understand the fundamental nature of our relationship. We love each other, support each other, and genuinely like being with each other, but having maintained that over nineteen years effectively means nothing relative to other relationships with their own specifications and nuances. Instead, anything I say or write about in this book comes from the perspective of two people who are just big fans of marriage and enthusiastic about people figuring out their own relationships. We hold no degrees or licenses to speak with any institutional authority on the topic. All we have is our own experiences and perspectives and the hope that something we've experienced or realized may be found to be helpful for someone else.To be honest, I was hesitant to write about this topic given that I didn't want to create the vibe of "HEY, EVERYONE, LOOK, I DID IT. I FIGURED OUT MARRIAGE." Instead, the vibe I wanted to create was in writing something that deconstructed the static, stale, and frankly misstated aspects of most modern marriage advice, not to just destroy something for the sake of destroying it, but to clear room for us to collectively and individually build something back that is more honest, more relevant, and more helpful when it comes to conversations about marriages.Also, no book agents wanted me to write about this either, specifically in this way and about the things in the following chapters. I wonder if it was more about the topicalities (unlikely) or the person executing those topicalities (VERY likely). Still, I did it anyway because deep down, I have a profoundly opaque and constant stubbornness in both my head and my heart and also because it just seemed to me that the longer people are married, the more withholding they tend to be about the unique contours and specific delineations of their relationship. Not because they don't want to help or are sequestered into silence by a deal with a bridge troll, but because they recognize a) how little they actually know and b) how uniquely specific what they've learned is to their own situation. And so, all we're left with are the crumbs of cliches and stale wisdom or books committed to speaking broadly about marriage and ultimately concluding that all you need is love, respect, and sex.It's true: marriages do need love, respect, and sex, but as it turns out, it's much more complicated than that, and yet also much more straightforward in other ways, which was one of the biggest motivations for me to write this book: to simplify the aspects of marriage that have been unnecessarily presented as complex while also giving space to the complicated elements that have been suggested as being simple. Because if there's anything Ashley and I have learned across 19 years of matrimony, it's that while each marriage might be a unique world specific unto itself, we all deserve better and more precise ways to talk about it.Over Under Achievers by Knox McCoy is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit knoxmccoy.substack.com/subscribe

In this episode, Tim talks with podcast guest George Trachilis about recognizing and cultivating leadership in their work as leadership coaches. Both Tim and George share their history of how they found themselves working with organizations to improve their processes and systems and the top takeaways each took regarding the power of leadership. As an expert in Lean Leadership, George provides insightful ideas on workplace culture. Drawing inspiration from leaders in mindset and workplace culture, such as James Clear, Normen Bodek, Shigeo Shingo, and Mike Rother, this episode is a treasure trove of resources for leaders who want to focus on self-improvement. If you consider yourself a leader or someone who has a vision and gets things done, this episode has tons of resources and ideas to help you grow.About George TrachilisAuthor and speaker, George Trachilis, is the Shingo Research Award winning contributor and publisher of the book, Developing Lean Leaders at All Levels. His insight as an entrepreneur and Lean Coach will astound. George is one of the most experienced and knowledgeable people alive in the Lean world today, and his focus has changed from Lean, to operational excellence to leadership excellence. It has always been about leadership and leading by example. Connect with George today to address your leadership needs.Resources discussed in this episode:Kaizen LeadershipNormen Bodek - The Harada MethodTaiichi OhnoShigeo Shingo Atomic HabitsPaul AkersMike Rother - Toyota KataGemba Walk--Contact Tim Sweet | Team Work Excellence: WebsiteLinkedIn: Tim SweetInstagramLinkedin: Team Work ExcellenceContact George Trachilis | Leadership Excellence: WebsiteEmailLinkedinFind It George Website--George 00:00The more you focus on the laggards, the more attention everybody else will want from you, and you'll lose good people. Focus on your superstars. You know, that's the direction you're going people get caught up. Tim 00:12I'd like to ask you some questions. Do you consider yourself the kind of person that gets things done? Are you able to take a vision and transform that into action? Are you able to align others towards that vision and get them moving to create something truly remarkable. If any of these describe you, then you my friend, or a leader, and this show is all about and all for you. Welcome to the Sweet on Leadership Podcast, episode 16. Tim 00:46Thanks again for joining us on sweet on leadership. I'm really pleased today that I have person who I have followed for years joining me. And when I contemplated what we're going to talk about today was the obvious choice for who to reach out to and that's George Trachilis. George, thanks very much for taking the time. George 01:08Oh, thank you. Thank you, Tim. So Tim 01:10today, we spent a little bit of time here before we hit record talking about what we want to cover. And we don't really know where this is gonna go. But I believe it's all around how both of us, our careers have taken us into the area of strategy, leadership development, team development. And we share a common starting point. And that is really moving from operational excellence, and the tools that are involved there all the way into this, this era. So maybe as a start, why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself, what you're working on. And then we can get into how we found ourselves down this path. George 01:53So, my name is George Trachilis. For those of you that don't know me, I started off in Lean In 1994, working for a company called Motorcoach Industries, which was Greyhound Buses. And in those days, I was a young engineer, just coming out of school basically. And I was asked to be on an implementation team for an ERP implementation, which took me to Pembina, North Dakota in the US from Winnipeg, Canada. And we implemented an ERP system, which included total quality management, and what we knew as Lean back then, and Kanban, and all the tools. And we had consultants come in from all Oliver White Consulting. And what they did was they share the tools with us, the leaders of the group, and then they asked us to go train others. And I loved it. What I say is I caught the bug, that was it, I can no longer work in a regular job. It needed to be about change, and looking at the light go on in people's eyes. That's what it was all about. And it hasn't been for 30 years now. The first 10 years was me implementing with a team of people the second 10 years, was owning my own consulting business going to Edmonton Calgary throughout Canada. As a matter of fact, I had an online course that created maybe the first online course, on Lean 101 the Lego Simulation Airplane Game. And the Government of Alberta bought it, which means I was allowed to sell it for them. And they trained 300 companies in Alberta, Canada, which then expanded because in 2011, I just said let's give it away to the world. And I had like in December of that year, something like 300 students on average registered per day. So, it was pretty amazing that everybody in 2011 love this thing called Lean. Okay, Lean is great. But I found I was missing something because I would go into a company, somebody would show me the Toyota way and the 4P model. Okay. I didn't know what all that meant. And then in 2012, I was doing more online courses and I met Jeff Liker, and I met Norman Bodek. Actually in reverse Norman first, Jeff Liker, and met a lot of the Guru's and I went to Japan learned a lot about the Toyota way of doing things, met with a lot of Toyota coaches, especially on Toyota business practices, and learned that and now I coach and develop people using Toyota business practices. But throughout the last 30 years, even though the last 10 is all on leadership development, I still go in, I still do value stream mapping, I still do the tools. So that's not a problem. I love doing that. But I get the benefit there. Not everybody else necessarily. If I can teach that, well, somebody else is getting the benefit. Now I coach and develop companies. And I've got two big clients today where I'm coaching leaders to be leaders. And they're coaching others. So, the mental model I used to have in the first one years was the five principles of Lean. Okay? Define value from the customer's perspective, right? Define the value stream, first flow, then pull, and strive for perfection, great five values, great five principles of Lean. Now, ever since Jeff Liker and I put the book together, called Developing Lean leaders at all levels, the model we share there is, number one, live the core values of the company. Okay, that's number one. Number two, commit to self development, because everybody knows, if you don't develop yourself, you don't have that attitude, you're going nowhere, you're going nowhere, plus, you're causing everybody else, no end of pain, because you're in it for yourself, everybody's got to do something for you. And you're not enough for the customer or the company, or your teamwork, or your team players. Number two coach and develop others, we need everybody to be a coach, as a manager. If you're not coaching and developing somebody, you're just not doing your job as a manager. Number three, support daily Kaizen. And then number four, define your targets and align all of your processes towards those targets for that year. So create vision, and align targets. That's number four. So that mental model today is a model that I refer to as the Lean Leadership Development Model. Jeff, and I created a company called Lean Leadership Institute. And we have an online course that trains that to the masses. But really step one, I always say if you can't improve, if you can't say, I want to improve, there's something wrong. And it's not with a everybody else. It's with you. So, so just just making sure people know and then I usually get the question is like, what happens when you meet somebody like that? Well, don't worry about them, don't focus on them as a leader, the more you focus on the laggards, the more attention everybody else will want from you. And you'll lose good people focus on your superstars, you know, that's the direction you're going people get caught up. So what I'm working on today is remote coaching for several companies, and helping them understand how they should be thinking so that they can teach that mindset to others. Tim 07:33It's a real basis and thought, when we think of just the pure efficiency of playing to your strengths, or supporting, I liked what you said there about focusing on the superstars. Because we're going to improve our reach, we're going to make sure that we have all the right thought going on in the organization, rather than focusing on constraints, it it's a good place to be but with teams, we need to be marshaling everybody into a common goal. And what was that old saying that they used to say? You know, do you want to be the hero with 1000 Helpers? Or do you want to be the leader with 1000? Heroes? You know, really, can we bring that out in people? I'm still floored by just how similar the evolution is between yourself and myself and where we've landed. George 08:26I'm not. I think it's funny, because when we're a Lean thinker, what is it we're looking for? We're looking to help people, okay. And when we see the gap, we kind of say, hey, let's close the gap. And this is the gap for a long time. We just never saw it. And we've been distracted by others, like, let's call them thought leaders that have driven us in a certain thinking process. We've been distracted for about 10 to 20 years. But today, I think we're on top of the real issue, which is our leaders are not leaders, at times, they're not behaving that way. They're thinking about short term results and behaving in a way similar to get those versus the long term game that they could get by staying on course, you know, making sure people understand they're valued at the company. They're the only appreciating asset. You're growing the people that's your job. When I was in Japan, it was funny because Matt Amezaga he was the Vice President of Operations at all of Toyota. He said that Fujio Cho, asked him to go back to Kentucky and get the culture back because they had a leader there. This particular leader didn't do a good job. And in a matter of one year, he destroyed the culture. And it took four years to get it back. But he did it in three, he was very impressed with himself. So, this is the kind of culture that you need. And you, you got to think of the culture as the behaviors. And the behaviors, behaviors of the leadership go furthest. When you see somebody in front of you, and they're the CEO of the company, and they bend down, they pick up a piece of garbage, and they throw it in the garbage can. That's not like for show. That's because they live it. That's because they, they understand that if they don't demonstrate what they want from others, they're not going to get it. Tim 10:30Yeah, I think tied on to that is, if the leaders are behaving in a way, or if the managers or the executives in those that should be in leadership roles are behaving in a way that demonstrates the worst possible things, then that also becomes how we define the culture because you know, that culture is defined by the worst behaviors we're willing to accept. And it can be so debilitating for an organization to have the wrong people getting the attention. It really takes away from the enjoyment and from the fulfillment, that everybody who's fighting the good fight is able to derive from it. And when I think back to some of the experiences that I had, I remember what my first major regional management role was with was with a large commercial bakery, and I had Thunderbay to Vancouver Island. Spent a lot of time in Winnipeg, incidentally. You know, working in that area, I spent two years creating, I was deploying TQM back in the day. So we were doing quality circles and having a bunch of unionized employees wrangling waste, and getting it down and, and really working with the union to help them understand why we were having people work off page and not necessarily working to their their job description, but getting excited for their role. And one organizational shift where they decided to take our regional office out of Calgary and send it back east, and that we were no longer going to play nicey nice with the unions, it dismantled culture overnight, it dismantled all of that positive work we had done, and really made improvement. Not impossible, but a fight again, that didn't have to be. And throughout my career, I think as I evolved, I could design great, elegant processes. I could go in and do the work, I could come up with the answer I could, I could define and measure and analyze and improve till the cows came home and loved doing it, it was a lot of fun. You could get the right answers. And if the leaders weren't on side, you were done. You were dead in the water. And if you manage to get it over the line, the leaders decided that that wasn't what they were interested in anymore. They could dismantle it overnight. I started out as a junior team-building consultant, and then I and then I went in school, I found operations management, and loved it. And then I came full circle. And I realized that really, I could enable other people to do the improvement, teach them the skills and let them go out and, and reengineer the processes. But I needed to focus on hoeing the row for those improvement projects to take place. And getting leadership excited. Yeah, so I mean, that's very similar in terms of where I've ended up because it yes, the other work is very, very important. But it needs to have fertile ground. Otherwise you're, you're throwing good money out. George 13:49Yea, it's interesting, you say fertile ground. And I think immediately about the leader. If the leader doesn't have fertile ground in their brain, we've got a problem. And Gallup, for example, just came out with a statement that 70% of all hiring decisions are wrong, based on you know what a good leader is. And you think, well, what's the characteristics of a good leader? They only have other than the skills, the hard skills, the soft skill, one of the main ones is that they're willing, and they believe in improvement. They believe in Kaizen, it's almost like Kaizen resides in their heart. I believe I can be better tomorrow than I am today. And the day after can be better than tomorrow. And ultimately, if they have that belief system, and they're willing to do the work on themselves, that's like a beacon. It'll just generate light for the rest of the organization. Nobody tests for it. So the fertile ground in my mind is in their brain. And today, I've actually avoided working at mid-level in a company. Avoid 90% failure rate is guaranteed when you're not dealing with the executives, and you're not dealing with the people who actually can, in some ways, demonstrate and expand and proliferate Kaizen and improvement and call it Lean, call it excellence. If they don't do it, nobody else is gonna do it. Tim 15:21That lesson was hard one for me, because often, I'd be entering into the wrong level of an organization. And, you know, it took me losing. Well, we did great work, but the work was… George 15:36It's not sustainable. Okay. Tim 15:41Well, there's priority changes, and the work was just the work was just taken out from under us. And, and it was, it was awful. That, because we knew we knew where we were in the answers we were bringing in, but it was a fickle leader made a snap judgment. And so yeah, I have since for several years now, I only work if I'm starting from the top, because you need to have that conviction. And that willingness, and that space, that space to improve. It's really interesting. Sometimes when you're talking about, you'll run into teams that have capacity challenges and want to improve. And one of the first things that I say is a great reason to go and chase some waste is we have to create enough capacity that we have capacity to improve. And then that is that, I think back to that Covey model, where they talk about the Covey's quadrants, and how that quadrant one is urgent and important. And Quadrant Two is really important but not urgent. If we can get operating in quadrant two, that would where Lean resides in my mind, it's the only quadrant that pays dividends. It's the only one that creates more space to create more space, more efficiency to create more efficiency. Capacity building on top of capacity. If we don't have the support of the leaders to start that process, it's really tough. You have that support lined up top to bottom cascading down through the organization. And it's really easy. That's not only easy, it's fun. And I mean, the work is tough enough, trying to convince leadership trying to work and overcome turbulence in teams. That's tough. Like it's, let's let the work be tough. Let's not let's not make working with people tough. So you'd said something earlier again, before we had hit record here. I want you to share that thought around starting in the students mind. You take care of that a little bit. You're talking about Gemba. And I thought that was fascinating. George 17:54Like a progression for me over the years. But I brought Ritsuo Shingo, bless his heart, he's the late Shingo now. Shingo San, I brought him to Santorini, Greece, along with others, who were leaders in their industry, you know, there's business owners, there's, you know, others like Paul Akers, as an example, I brought him to Santorini, Greece. And we did training there. And we went through a Gemba Walk of Santo Wines, one of the biggest, the biggest winery in Santorini. And we're watching somebody work, we're watching somebody work. And what they're doing is they got a big light facing them, and they got, you know, like three bottles on each end. And they're looking, their eyes are focused on the bottle, and the light is behind it. So, you might be able to see something, you know, in the bottle. And so they're looking for spiders, because the bottle sometimes just, just over. So they do wash the bottles, but sometimes, you know, if there's like a big nest in there, you put that bottle aside and needs extra washing, but this is what this person's job function was. And ritual wouldn't leave. And he's just observing. And I'm thinking, what's he, what could he possibly observe? Like the flow is such that there's such a queue in front of them, and the line is running, and there's no way he's gonna be out of work. Like, he's got a lot of work and the lines running, maybe he's not, maybe they're slack. I don't know if he's trying to calculate how much time he's actually working, versus how many bottles are moved. I don't know what he's doing. And it was so shocking. I said, what do you what are you doing? He says George San, watch his eyes. And I'm watching the workers eyes. And as he lifts the bottles, his eyes are down. I'm going oh, Shingo San I never thought to watch the workers eyes. Like pretend you're in the worker shoes, and think you're the worker, and your job is to do this function. And he says also, there's no standard. I sai, what do you mean no standard. Sometimes he lifts up three bottles, and two, and sometimes two and two, sometimes three and three, there's no standard. And I'm going, Wow, he got all that from what I would just say that's just not important. Okay. So from that, I thought, How does somebody look at improvement? And so for example, I'm coaching somebody now he's a, he's a great coach. His name is Raj Pathak, I'm sure he's he's okay with me using his name. He just went through PDCA excellence training with myself and Dr. Jake Abraham, who is my Toyota coach. And we just finished training. And he did a great A3, now it's time for him to train others. And they've got a big project to do. He's leading the project. And I said, So Raj, tell me what you're thinking, what's the first meeting look like? And why? He says, Well, I want to go right into step one, okay. And I'm trying to understand why he would want to just go right into step one, for everybody of problem-solving, when we got a whole team here, and they're different areas, and he might not have a challenge for each one. So I said, what's your challenge for each individual, and he doesn't have that thought through. So I'm thinking, we need to do some visualization, what this might look like. So that's kind of the biggest thing for me, is if you can't visualize the end, to some degree, getting into it right away, that's the gap. There's a gap between being able to visualize the results, and get everybody else signing up into a charter saying, Here's what we want to do great. That charter, I've seen so many places, I've seen it work, it never works without everybody signing. So that's part of the Nemawashi though the consensus building that you need in Lean today, in order to make it work. So that's why I say you got to think about like, what's in their head? For two reasons. Number one, you want to know if there's any gaps. But number two, what are the gaps between them, and you. You could be the one in the learning seat. And so that's where the teacher sometimes learns more than the student. You know, show me more, tell me how you get that. I did that a couple of times, with students that I'm going, okay, I better pick up that book and read it. Jim 22:37Yeah, in my parlance, over the last few years, fluency has been the big word. And it's, you know, are you fluent in your own beliefs and your own thoughts around what we're about to do? Are you fluent in that and how you conceptualize work and what you value? And how you align to the corporate goals? Or what are your own goals? What's your workstyle? What's your genius? George 23:03We call that a little different. We call that the line of sight. But let me ask you this. What's your long term goal? Tim 23:10Myself? George 23:11Yeah, 10 years. Tim 23:1310 years out? I mean, I think it will be that I've managed to train enough leaders in this, in this practice, that they are self-sufficient, that my own company has a body of work behind it, that allows what can be would you say automated or that can be approached individually is happening and that we are focused in that space where other people can can begin to do some of the heavy lifting, I guess. Whereas for myself, I focus primarily on the teaching, and, and really getting the senior most leaders lined up for the work. The challenge becomes, can you carry that work all the way down to the coalface can it cascade through the organization effectively? And so, I mean, from my own practices, I think that's really important that the company has my clients have the ability to carry this thinking all the way down, internally. And so I'd say for the next 10 years on this, it's really about Systemizing. And in getting that, that together, and I'm on track for that. Whether or not it will materialize in that way. I'm not sure. But I don't exactly know “the how” yet to be frank. George 24:41Yeah. So one of the most amazing things I've come across is some guy on the internet. Norman Bodek, by the way, who's dead again, you know, like he he's gone. Mike, another coach is gone. Norman Bodek said, You need to learn about the people-side of Lean. And I'm going I don't know what that means. So he was talking about the Harada Method, with Kakashi Harada in Japan, teaching people how to be self-reliant. And they come up with their goal. They come up with their tasks, they go and execute and and one of the famous, the famous baseball player in the world today Shohei Ohtani did the 64th chart with Takashi Harada, in Japan. So it's pretty amazing that there is a process for almost every problem. But when you want to be successful, you need a system. You can't just have a process, we can go in with Lean. And we can say, here's a problem describing the problem, which is obviously half solved if you can do that. And we put together some tools and we say let's go through this. And we got a solution. For every problem, there's a solution. But for really successful people, they need a system. And that's why the Harada Method came into into play for me as well. 10 years ago, yeah, Tim 26:09that'll help me answer that, that question. More retrospectively, but yeah, the biggest leaps that I've taken in my business and my coaching practice and, and working with leaders, and again, I specialize in academics, and STEM leaders, people that are they're fairly linear in their thinking or at least linear in their, in the practice. And it really has been. It's funny, because as we talk about where that catastrophic derailment happened due to a that's actually what was the impetus for me taking a step back and looking at everything that I practiced over several decades of doing this work two decades doing this work. And deciding that I wanted to just really box what was working the best and I ended up starting to put my practices into some structures and into some processes. And I'd shied away from that. As the Lean guy, I'd shied away from that instead, you know, opting for more of a artisan approach or job shop approach, because I wanted, I wanted to make sure that I gave everybody a unique path through and I had to get my own mind around the fact that you know what, once I had systemized my approach my first conversation, say with with new coaching clients, suddenly I had a bunch of things going for me one, I didn't have to imagine where I was going next I had a place that I could start. And I knew they were reliable tools I used the most. They're things that I believe in, and that they've always worked. So there, I had linear thinkers I was dealing with, I could show them the path. I remember one point in my career, I had an engineer come up to me and say, Man, that was amazing. You did it was a piece of collaborative contract we're doing. But boy, you sure you sneak up on people. He said to me, I said, What do you mean, he says, We I didn't know what this was all about. And then towards the end of it, I was just like, amazed at how far we come out sure would have been calmer. If I had known where you were gonna take us well, now I can put a roadmap in front of this is what we're about to do, I'm not going to wait and deliver a punch line and, and make a guess at what we're going to do. And then the ability to just really test those theories, as blueprints for people doing well, and prove them out until they can be now I can isolate if I'm going to improve something about them, I can see the whole path. And, you know, it's so funny because I try not to be too hard on myself. But you know, you know these tools, and just the ability to step back and apply them to your own business, something that could seem rather chaotic, has made a big difference. George 29:01The entrepreneur does that. The entrepreneur thinks they must recreate everything for our client for every customer. So look, that's not a bad thing. You just got to recognize that if you want to stay a one person company, you'd better start thinking differently. Entrepreneur not. Because yeah, because there are people out there that like a system. And nowadays two companies are growing. Their reference of the past is not as relevant as it was. So what they're doing is they're experimenting their way towards the future. And understanding how to experiment is critical. So you know, of course Mike Rother is, you know, that Toyota Kata guy, and he used to be a student of Jeff Likers. So, you know, it's coming kind of from the same place. What did we miss with Toyota? What we missed was the soft stuff. We got the hard stuff. You know, 4S, they have at Toyota not 5S, we kind of know how to do that. But we don't have the discipline. And we're always thinking, look at all these tools, what are they there for? They're there to develop the people. And we never thought like that. We were, you know, great people, great products, they kind of bound it in between you got all your tools and systems and results. But it starts with great people. And it ends with a great product. You know, they kind of bound the problem there. And I don't know too many industries that wouldn't start like that, you know, we need great people. And what are those great people? Well, they're the ones that want to improve. And because they're doing it, they can demonstrate to others, in several ways coach and develop them to do it. And what are they striving for? Well, we need to get short term and long term results, you got to do both. So it's kind of like a big challenge in industry, especially everywhere, it doesn't matter. But we got the quarter crunch, the year end, you know, we got to make our numbers all the time, I just remember that the nightmare I was in, when I worked at New Flyer Industries, which ultimately ended up going bankrupt or taken over whatever. But it was a nightmare. We owed all our suppliers, like a lot of our suppliers, tons of money 120 million past 90 days. So it was like crazy, that's the way to run a business is to try to start a bus so you can get a progress payment, and then pay for parts on the buses that are in the yard. So you can actually get them shipped to the customer. So the challenge is applying lean is like an exercise in futility. What we got is great people, and we got to get those results. So we kind of nailed it. And Toyota went bankrupt way back in the 50s. So that's where, you know, they kind of learned their lesson. That's why they have a big bank account. Tim 31:57The big question that's left is you think about your journey through and how your thinking and your and your application. And your focus has evolved. When you think about that leadership experience that you're now focused on the other part of that Gallup poll that I thought was really interesting, or sorry, not Gallup poll, but their their recent publication was, they had said, They figure 10% of the population has the DNA of a leader, the ability to actually, you know, operate in them. And I my hypothesis is, it's actually smaller, because although they may start with 10%, only a fraction of that, I like to say 6% have the opportunity to lead or have not incurred other baggage, or something that will take them out of the mix, or don't have a personal situation that wouldn't allow them to do that, or haven't suffered trauma that wouldn't allow them to do that. So when you look at the leadership experience, and as you watch the leaders that you're working with, really grasp these concepts and then apply them and become higher and higher performing. What do you think the key, in your experience, what are the key mindsets? As I say, you know, you've talked about the five principles, what are some of the watershed moments that you see with leaders where they, you know, a light bulb goes on? And, and it clicks and they really get something? Could you share some thoughts on that? In terms of what are some of those big pivot points? George 33:32Yeah. Okay, I'm not sure they're big pivot points. This is part of the problem. Tim 33:34Sure. George 33:45The problem is we have a lot of little pivot points, which end up making a lot of big change at the end of the day. Tim 33:48Great, perhaps, what are some of the common little pivot points? George 33:50Yeah, so, number one, when I look at leaders getting excited, I think about why are they getting excited? It's because you've pointed out something, whether it's through your book or what have you. It's something that they did not expect. Okay, here's what they expected. And they got something else, there's a gap between what they expected and what they got. That gap is called learning. And as soon as you can increase the learning for that leader, they get hooked. It is the adrenaline, it's the dopamine that you know, gets released in your head. As soon as they do that, they get hooked. So one of one of my students in Germany, she was, I can't remember how we got to this. We were talking about a book called The Power of Habit or something. And I said, Look, a company is made up of habits. So tell me the behavior you would like to see. Tell me what the trigger is and how do you make sure that trigger happens? Because you got to have a trigger. You know, and then you can do the routine was the behavior and you need to kind of reinforce for yourself that that was a good thing to do. And you reinforce it in many ways. So she was, I want to make my bed every morning. I don't know why maybe she heard it and you know, they do it in the army and stuff. Okay, I want to make my bed every morning. So I said, Great. Let's talk a little bit about the trigger. So the trigger is, okay, I'm not gonna have my coffee. I'm gonna get up, I'm gonna put my clothes on, I'm gonna put my slippers on or whatever she's doing. There's a trigger somewhere for her to make her bed. Good. Then she makes the bed. And I said, what's the reward? And she struggled. We have a hard time programming our own thinking to say this is successful. And I said, Okay, I think in the book, they talked a little bit about somebody going on the sheets, just straightening out the sheets. And that felt good. I think it was a  Febreeze thing. I mean, they did that as a reward. And I thought, Okay, why don't you try that. And she says, George, it worked the next day. It worked. I can't believe it. Specifically thinking about the reward. I did this on the bed, and it smoothed out. And I felt good. I smiled. Well, okay, good. The smile is the reward too. So we have a hard time building in new habits that we know we need to have. Because we don't understand that we need a trigger. We need to do the routine because you know, it's important. And we need to create that little reward. And after that becomes a habit, you're done. You're done. Because every time today, when I go into a meeting, I always ask, what's the purpose? And what's the desired outcome of that meeting? I always ask it's a habit for me. And at the end, I always say it's time for Hansha, which is Japanese for reflection. Okay, what went well, during this meeting? What can we do better? How do we build that in for next time, and we improve our meetings each time. So that's just my meeting routines. But the habits make the difference. And so when I start with somebody, what, what we're doing is we're learning. And when we're learning, I'm saying, Are you satisfied with everything? You know, the way life is? Or would you like to improve something? And of course, we bring up the Taiichi Ohno no problem is the biggest problem of all? Yeah, okay, if you're, if you don't have a problem you want to fix then then I'm really no good to you. But let's, let's fix something, let's break it up, let's make sure we have little habits that we put together, maybe that'll create a routine, maybe that falls into a system that we built for you. Okay, so this is excellent when they can see how all this comes together. And they're excited about it, and then they transfer it to others. So I just think it's those little learning bits that make all the sense in the world. Tim 38:00Well, there's one other thing that you said there that I think I like to just stop on. And that's for your students that you talked to make the bed and then smooth out the sheets. And take a moment to reflect that you did this and that you're enjoying it and that the smile is the reward. You had said earlier that it's really important to, you know, go to the Gemba. And that being get into the students mind and understand what they're starting with. Right, this kind of thing. And I think it's a really interesting concept to say, maybe that going to the Gemba is getting into our own mind for a minute. And just stop for a second. And appreciate why you appreciated the reflection again, but saying, hey, you know, understand what you're out for here and understand what you just created for yourself. And take a moment, I used to be a chef. I was so I was a I was a classically trained chef, before I went back to business school. And what's the most important thing that a chef can do throughout that, that experiences if you're not tasting, you're not in control of the process? You have to stop and enjoy. Your own soup for a minute, if you're going to truly understand is it ready to go out? You have to look at it and say is this beautiful? What I just created here? You have to take a moment. And I think that's also part of sort of empathy when we're dealing with other people see it from their perspective. Appreciate it for a moment for what it is take a moment to be there with the person but you know, and this is where I'm like be there for a moment with yourself because I'm I was always really bad at that. I would do something meaningful. And I would steamroll right past it. Right. I wouldn't take praise for it. I wouldn't. Very bad at saying You're welcome. These kinds of things. You have to take a moment and say we just did something for a minute here, let's just put pause and realize, we got to the milestone we thought we were gonna get it because that gives us fuel for the next time we make the push. And the next time we do the next piece of effort, George 40:09That's called celebration, but we have to celebrate. Yeah. And being grateful. Look, that's all preparing your mind. And that's preparing yourself to be a better person, which you can then translate to others. So all of this is all teachings that you can apply to work. The customer, really, we got to turn this into value-added, we've run a business, we can't go home and say, Hey, I did this, I smoothed my bed. And now I want you to pay more for that product. No. So all of this is part of the little steps that it takes for them to say, Hey, I did this at home. Why can I do this at work? What's wrong with doing five paths? In a way, where there's a trigger? Five minutes before the end of the shift? Everybody does a five-minute 5S and we give each other a high five before we leave nothing wrong? Unless you're in COVID times, then maybe it's an elbow bump, you know? Tim 41:16Yeah. Well, it's been really enlightening to hear your perspectives on this stuff. And I hope we can do it again, because I'm having a lot of fun. And I'm learning through this conversation. So thank you very much for that. I want to make sure that people know how they can get involved with your thinking, how you'd like to be contacted, if somebody is inspired to reach out. George 41:38So my name is George Trachilis, they can go to georgetrachilis.com, they can contact me if they want to talk to me, or, you know, book me for a meeting and my calendars right there. That's the best way. Also, there's resources like the Harada Method I mentioned, you can go to finditgeorge.com, which is a great place that I'm building up now. And anybody can type something like A3, and they will have examples of A3s there. But if you type Harada, you'll get the five, five worksheets to use in the Harada Method. If you buy the book, I don't have anything to do with the book. But I promote the book. And those five worksheets are in there. So type Harada and download them for free. Tim 42:32Great, we'll make sure to put those links in the show notes so that everybody has quick access to them. One piece of advice from George Trachilis. George 42:40Yeah, and you know what I put it as a quote on my website, too. I've been where you are Tim, and I thought I've got so much to offer. You know, these executives, they just, sometimes they just don't see what I see. The key is to have an open enough relationship with these people where you can ask a question, and you ask a question to learn. And you can ask a question to teach. And in those situations, you're going to have to ask a question to teach, you're gonna have to figure out what that question is, that will allow you to not be offensive. Because Lord knows we can be offensive in what we're asking, and come across in a way that's very respectful, but gets your point across. But it's a question. They don't have to answer it. So many times. They're thinking short-term. And the question can simply be, are we thinking about the long term and the ramifications of doing this? Six months from now, versus what we get today? So, you know, I my quote was always just ask questions. Sooner or later, you'll become a teacher. Tim 43:56Once again, hey, thank you for for doing this. It was fantastic to spend some time with you. And we'll do it again. I'll talk to you real soon. Thank you so much for listening to Sweet on Leadership. If you found today's podcast valuable, consider visiting our website and signing up for the companion newsletter. You can find the link in the show notes. If like us, you think it's important to bring new ideas and skills into the practice of leadership. Please give us a positive rating and review on Apple podcasts. This helps us spread the word to other committed leaders. And you can spread the word to by sharing this with your friends, teams and colleagues. Thanks again for listening. And be sure to tune in in two weeks time for another episode of Sweet on Leadership. In the meantime, I'm your host, Tim sweet, encouraging you to keep on leading

Close all the toilet seats in the house and put an anvil on top for this one, cause we got some big ol' critters lookin to bite whats on offer!  Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem surfaces first, before we deal with an El Dorado sized Alligator. Has anybody seen the Febreeze? #TMNT #alligator #robertforster #sethrogen #mutantmayhem

Things new age MC members are doing  -buying designer cuts or vests online with custom colors patterns  -1%ers are having "tough guy Slogan" patches made on amazon (Goon Squad, Border Patrol, Gucci Gangster.....etc the list goes on of store bought patches"  -SUPER CLEAN cuts I know guys who damn dry clean their colors once a month and others who tell me the fucking Febreeze their cut  -Riding less than 5,000 miles a year or only to local poker runs and bars  -Talking outside the club with club business and about brothers in negative way  --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/motorcyclemadhouse/message

In today's episode of Coffee & Conspiracies, your hosts Riley and Logan are joined by Colton Day, an air show host at WKWC 90.3, to talk about that which we forget. Listen in while we sip on a local red honey coffee and rant about remembering, forgetting, and alternate realities. What is the Mandela Effect? Is it evidence of the multiverse? Is it all just some big cover-up for the endless apocalypses we never knew we survived?

Aujourd'hui à l'émission, on se confie sur nos utilisations spéciales du Saran Wrap, on appelle chez Febreze pour régler une chicane de couple, on appelle une fille qui a ghosté un auditeur et on apprend que Raymond 57 ans est cocu!

Deedre's formal apology to the author, Chuck Klosterman - even though he never asked for one. Plus:

Do you wish you could quit your job? What would happen if you did? Shawn Durham left his safe decade-long corporate career to chase his dream of being a published author. Four months later, he suffered a significant hand injury, which made writing nearly impossible. Find out what he did to not only survive but thrive. Interesting people take risks and often fail miserably as they try new things. The resilient ones bounce back stronger than before. Shawn takes us through the many ups and downs in his journey of self-discovery. We learn:

In this episode, Caitlin beats the heat with the history of the refreshing Aperol Spritz. Mari takes us down a rabbit hole with the interesting and complex story of Maria Barbella, AKA Maria Barberi. Cheers, nerds! --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/alcoholandanecdotes/support

We all remember when Febreeze first came out, right? It smells great but at the end of the spray... it's just a cover-up! The problem is still there. This Sunday Pastor Jon taught out of Psalm 51. David was acquainted with the fallout from febreezing over sin as well as the fruit from coming clean!

I just launched the Summer Biotoxin Detox program and here is lesson #1.   Pre-tox means stopping the inflow of toxins.  Less toxins in - means our body can begin to let go of what is stored. A few rules for pretox: Drink clean water.  Never tap.  Preferably distilled water. No cooking on Teflon or microwaving/storing food in plastic. Fragrance-Free Everything.  No candles, no Febreeze, no scented laundry detergents, no perfumes, nothing smelly. Deodorants should be aluminum-free and toothpaste fluoride-free.   Head to my website for the free resource - www.melissahallklepacki.com Come follow me on instagram and tiktok too!

    WEBSITE  contact@brizcliz.com  *** FOLLOW US *** INSTAGRAM  FACEBOOK  TIKTOK  TWITTER  YOUTUBE  *** SUPPORT US AT THESE LINKS ***   SIGN UP FOR AN INSTACART ACCOUNT: https://inst.cr/t/QkZyN2J3MUhB code: C7ABB32149   Venmo donations: @brizcliz

On this episode of Tell Me About Your Father's pop culture and news review show Daddy Issues!, Erin and Elizabeth are joined by comedian Youngmi Mayer, host of must-listen podcasts "Feeling Asian" and "Hairy Butthole." We talk to Youngmi about comedy being the best way to talk about the worst things, her young adulthood in Korea and why she left to move to the US at age 20, as well as her white father's internalized white supremacy and misogyny. We also discuss the brain-searing experience of being mistaken for your father's girlfriend, and Youngmi's life as a happily divorced single mother to a young son. Then it's on to daddy issues in the news, as we dissect the ironic infantilization of women pregnant enough to have an abortion, and the fetid stench of recent Twitter purchaser Elon Musk and his dad Errol, who married—and has a child with—his stepdaughter. The Musk men stink and our commentary is the spiritual Febreeze you need. --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/tell-me-about-your-father/support

Have you ever been in a situation where there's something strange in your nasal cavity? Who you gonna call? And if you haven't smelled it on anybody else, but other people smell it, chances are it might be you. Doc and Lockhart share stories about what we all think about, but only few of us are willing to stand up. Lettuce fight the funk together, Febreeze, and make America great again!

This week, Bridget Kelly and Mandii B are joined by Erica Dickerson & Jamilah Mapp the hosts of Good Moms Bad Choices. This week the ladies talk about Big Sean's leaked dick pics (3:00), Background checks that pulled up Mandii's old tweets (8:00), Texas' new child abuse law geared towards parents with transgender children (17:00), the difference between an argument and a disagreement (40:00), and Freshly Squeezed Break Up Edition (50:00). Sign up for the official “See The Thing Is…” PATREON for exclusive access & additional content: www.patreon.com/seethethingispod NEW YOUTUBE CHANNEL: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCDdNnbwgSEpZUj6fJNozz4wAdvertise with us on Gumball: https://gumball.fm/shows/see-the-thing-is/61781b15b8db6d491d3f4119See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Before we can even start to think about embarking on a detox program we need to think about stopping the onslaught of toxins in our everyday environment. Here are my top five actionable tips, you can take today, to start living less toxic lifestyle. Ditch any product that artificially fragrances your home; candles, air fresheners, Febreeze. All toxic. Same for fragrances IN your products. Make the switch to fragrance free. For laundry detergent, for body lotion, for shampoo even.  BEST BET: go to www.ewg.org and look up your favorite cleaners and body products.  They will show you how safe or unsafe your products are.  Start today by simply KNOWING which of your current products are toxic.  When something runs out replace it with a better choice. For personal care products not only do we want fragrance-free but we need to be on the lookout for aluminum in deodorant and fluoride in toothpaste. Both are heavy metals both are poisonous to the brain and both are unnecessary additives. It might seem controversial but I encourage you to do your own research. Toxins are everywhere. Take a look in your kitchen, specifically at your pots and pans. If you are using something with a non stick Teflon surface it's time for a new pan. Cast iron, stainless steel, or a ceramic coated pan like GreenPan are better choices here. Teflon contains toxic chemicals you want to avoid. Your drinking water. Please visit www.ewg.org/tapwater and plug in your zip code. You will be shown a report of all of the toxins you are drinking if you drink tap water. Unfortunately most filters do not do a great job of filtering out the most toxic chemicals in our water. PFOA, PFOS, radioactive elements, and fluoride are all very hard to get out of water. Distilled water is truly the only pure water.  Do the research, make the switch.  It's important for your wellness. By making simple changes in better choices, by knowing this information that you now cannot unknow, you are on your way to well being. Please share this podcast and this information with people that you love, sharing is caring. instagram: www.instagram.com/MelissaHallKlepacki tiktok @MelissaKlepackiWellness

Dan Berger and Paul Mabray on California Wine Country. California Wine Country with Steve Jaxon, Dan Berger and Harry Duke  welcomes Paul Mabray, the CEO of a new site called pix.wine "Pix dot wine" that promises to connect people to wines that bring them joy. But first, as usual, we will open show with a tasting of a bottle from Dan Berger's wine cellar. This one is a 2014 Sauvignon Blanc from the Starborough label, based in the Marlborough district of New Zealand. This Sauvignon Blanc ages well, as much as 12 years. This one has held up well, it still has some of the cilantro character that you find in these old wines. The screw top helps in its preservation because there is less oxygen than with corks. The bottle has a slight green tint. Dan explains that if it were a clear bottle, the wine could be light-struck and it is a wise choice to use the green tint, which actually protects the wine from the effect of ambient UV light. There are some clear glass bottles with UV protectant, but they are more expensive and it is easier to use these light green tinted bottles. And speaking of screw caps, Dan Berger says only 2% of the wines in New Zealand are closed with corks. Paul Mabray has been in the wine business for twenty years. He was the founder of Wine Direct and now pix.wine (“Pix dot wine”). He calls it the Google of wine. He makes it easy to find and buy wine for anyone searching for nearly any wine. On the Pix.wine website there is an article about wine in Detroit that caught Steve Jaxon's eye, since that is his hometown. Pix.wine allows you to search wine, and to register to get news when the wine you want is available. They are funded by the wine industry. The company is a team of 24 people as of now and they found people with a blend of wine and tech experience. He calls it the dream team of wine. The site has 270,000 names of wines in its searchable database. Click the logo to visit our sponsor Bottle Barn online for the best deals on wine, beer and spirits. CEO Paul Mabray explains that Pix.wine is in the Beta phase of development, which means it is a work in progress. It has been online only for about a week and today is his first public conversation about it. They are still “working out kinks in Beta.” They will also release a mobile app but they decided to launch online first due to Covid. Dan Berger appreciates that Paul has tapped into the ability to associate wines that are near your preferences, and allow you to make discoveries. They taste the 2019 Donum Chardonnay from Sonoma County that Paul has brought. The image on the label is drawn from some sculptural works of the Chinese dissident artist Ai Weiwei. The Donum vineyard has a large sculpture garden and there is an exhibit of gigantic animal heads by Ai Weiwei which represent the years in the Chinese horosope. The company was named by the #1 naming agency in the world Lexicon, located nearby in Marin, who also named Swiffer, Febreeze, Sonos, Blackberry and many others. They came up with “pix” which combines “picks” meaning choices and “pics” meaning pictures, since people will take pictures of labels and use label pics as identifiers. Paul Mabray says that the wine industry needs a way to promote wine to younger generations, and that the industry needs tools to make wine more open, easy to discover and easier to understand.

It's time to launch the sixth season of My Show with a super-sized episode. We talk about Rbn's Christmas prank, conversing with radio personalities and Sir Mix-A-Lot on local TV. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/myshowaj/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/myshowaj/support

Pv2 Caleb Smither was left to die in his barracks room on Ft Bragg only seven weeks and 4 days after reporting to base-his first duty station. After hitting his head on a vehicle in the motor pool. Pv2 Smither was turned away from Womack Army medical center 3 times. After being given a sedative and pain meds, he was put on quarters. Pv2 Caleb Smither died on the floor of his barracks room because no one checked on him. Womack failed this Soldier. His chain of command failed him. Who doesn't check on a brand spanking new troop who had to come to the formation with NVG's on because he was in so much pain? He lie in his room for 5 days before someone finally opened his door. Before that, Soldiers on his floor sprayed Febreeze around his door! But no one was held accountable. This is medical malpractice. This is negligent homicide.

Check it out on Spotify: https://spoti.fi/33Z4VsE Check it out on Apple: https://apple.co/3AHc2DT Brandon Croucher is the CEO of Delight Cafe. The Bearded, Bald, Bi-polar, Boss has found his passion through changing the stereotype of mental health. He is bringing awareness to the stigma of mental illness. Brandon is the owner of a digital platform that hosts a variety of shows. Focusing on mindfulness, awareness, positivity, with hemp and good mental health. Through open dialogue and honest conversations with professionals in their respected fields. After dealing with his own struggles with modern medications, Brandon has seen the extreme benefits of the Hemp plant and is sharing this knowledge to help others. Dreams: Small Ones By Christmas, hits sales to order the next round of product without seed money from an investor. $5000 in Sales Get his Youtube Channel up to 500 Subscribers by Christmas Big Ones Wants his company to be sold nationwide, Have 8 Products by 2023 Pictures it being like Febreeze, Have the CBD plant be everywhere. Every single Product will be Compostable Create a Community that wants to make the world a better place. How you can Help: Introduce Brandon to people that have been disrespected and then they found the light in that. (Wabi-Sabi) Help Recruit Myles Garrett to represent the brand. Introduce him to Elon Musk because he is a visionary Join the Network (Hit Subscribe and Interact with Brandon and his Community) Go to DelightCafe.com and connect with your families. Buy a box and split it between the family, try it all at the same time. Contact Brandon at: (quick link to subscribe to all https://msha.ke/delightcafe.com/) www.delightcafe.com YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/DelightsDigit... Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DelightsDigi... Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/DelightsDig... Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/DelightsDigit...

Check it out on Spotify: https://spoti.fi/33Z4VsE Check it out on Apple: https://apple.co/3AHc2DT Brandon Croucher is the CEO of Delight Cafe. The Bearded, Bald, Bi-polar, Boss has found his passion through changing the stereotype of mental health. He is bringing awareness to the stigma of mental illness. Brandon is the owner of a digital platform that hosts a variety of shows. Focusing on mindfulness, awareness, positivity, with hemp and good mental health. Through open dialogue and honest conversations with professionals in their respected fields. After dealing with his own struggles with modern medications, Brandon has seen the extreme benefits of the Hemp plant and is sharing this knowledge to help others. Dreams: Small Ones By Christmas, hits sales to order the next round of product without seed money from an investor. $5000 in Sales Get his Youtube Channel up to 500 Subscribers by Christmas Big Ones Wants his company to be sold nationwide, Have 8 Products by 2023 Pictures it being like Febreeze, Have the CBD plant be everywhere. Every single Product will be Compostable Create a Community that wants to make the world a better place. How you can Help: Introduce Brandon to people that have been disrespected and then they found the light in that. (Wabi-Sabi) Help Recruit Myles Garrett to represent the brand. Introduce him to Elon Musk because he is a visionary Join the Network (Hit Subscribe and Interact with Brandon and his Community) Go to DelightCafe.com and connect with your families. Buy a box and split it between the family, try it all at the same time. Contact Brandon at: (quick link to subscribe to all https://msha.ke/delightcafe.com/) www.delightcafe.com YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/DelightsDigit... Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DelightsDigi... Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/DelightsDig... Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/DelightsDigit...

EPISODE 156   *** BREAKFAST CLUB MERCH *** WEBSITE  contact@brizcliz.com  *** FOLLOW US *** INSTAGRAM  FACEBOOK  TIKTOK  TWITTER  YOUTUBE 

For this very special episode the Reverend and Reprobate are welcoming their wonderful brides on the show for the first time! The Rev and Rep discuss weddings, being married to insane men, and how they met their future husbands. Controlled Rowdiness gets a little too revealing for the guys and the ladies fire some questions of their own! Rev and Rep Linktr.ee (all the show links can be found below) https://linktr.ee/revreppodcast

Zane和Rita本周都有很多新挑战、新体验与大家分享~Zane初次尝试了炮筒健身，盛赞炮筒是无氧有氧统统胜任的好工具。Rita则受奥运健儿们鼓舞挑战了射箭，体会变身Hunger Game女主的快乐。本周特别推荐吃&用的好物，邓老凉茶龟苓膏and风倍清杀菌喷雾，助你健康清爽渡过三伏天。如果你被痘痘困扰，不要忘记听到最后，我们助你提高“战痘”力~ 欢迎你通过这个邮箱：softspot_softspot@outlook.com 来找到我们 This is a week filled with challenges for Rita and Zane. Zane tried out ViPR exercises and loved it for getting aerobic and anaerobic results. Rita went for archery and imagined herself transferring to the Hunger Game universe. For this week's favorites, we recommend Febreeze anti-bacterial spray and Chinese herbal jelly to keep you healthy and cool. Have breakout problem? Listen to the end for our tips on fighting acne. Have stories and suggestions for us? Shoot us an email at softspot_softspot@outlook.com

Hallo ihr lieben schön das ihr wieder dabei seid. Diese Woche das letzte mal Online denn nächstes Weekend, also das vom 16.-18. Juli findet unser traditionelles JAW Weekend statt. Das wird ne Wilde fahrt, garantiert. Aber jetzt dürft ihr euch erstmal zurück lehnen, euch entspannen um einfach mal ne Stunde abzuhängen mit den Abhängigen. Folgt uns auf Instagram um nichts mehr zu verpassen-> @junkies.ausm.web Ihr wollt uns unterstützen ? in der Profilbeschreibung auf Instagram haben wir einen Donationlink hinterlegt und sind euch mega Danbar für jede kleinste Donation =)

Trey doused himself before the pounce. J-Si's kids unknowingly worked in this popular phrase. And PTJ is getting up all in his couch!

Zede and Mallory make a whole podcast out of a tangent about odors, fabric and the stink of Febreeze. Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brands Privacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Join Carly, Ralph, Chris and Aidan as they joke about things you won't hear on Star Trek, Trailer Park scented Febreeze and more.

If you want to hear political and factual views, this is not the place to be. However if you want to hear two friends speaking their unfiltered truth on everyday events, then this is the place to be. Join Vicki and Raea on their podcast journey to finding sense in society and life struggles, with a bit of banter along the way.

After a weekend of soaking up the fam’s gram’s of their fun-filled trip to Palm Springs, we’re back recapping one of the last episodes of Season Four of KUWTK! It’s all sex-based storylines, one around Khloe trying to put together a racy video for Lamar when he’s on the road for games and another about Kourtney overcoming her aversion to third-trimester sex. Meanwhile, we sift through the week’s headlines, including a Poosh video where Kourt and Khloe talk about breastfeeding, Khloe’s hilarious Febreeze sponsorship deal, Kylie trying to pass herself off as Beyonce and more.

Pack up some new bags to go where God wants to take you! 2020 is a year of revolution! Don't go back to your old ways and habits. If you stay on the path that God has for you everything ALWAYS gets better!

This episode starts with my song "the Floor is Wet". Julie & Aaron are my cute married friends. She is a dental hygienist and he is in IT. Taylor is their friend... he really knows his way around a bathroom. We talk about my drag personae 'Midnight Febreeze', Dicks Last Resort, dentistry, Western Career College, Blossom Hill in San Jose, Churchy sex-shame, long distance relationships, farting over promise rings, getting in trouble on Instagram for innocent pictures, the unholy-chasm between 27 and 36, waterbeds, black light posters, and medicinal marijuana. Follow Julie on IG @kittenkaboodles

Dave and Chuck the Freak talk about a county in Michigan asking citizens to stop flushing butt wipes, NFL considering a penalty for teams who have players kneel during the National Anthem, K-Fed wants more child support from Britney Spears, parents taking their 30-year-old son to court to evict him from their basement, a town that had a trainload of human poop stuck gets free Febreeze, a blood type that is at a higher risk for severe diarrhea, women dirtier/kinky now than in the past, a guy that got drunk and bit part of his buddy's ear off, a dude that was shot twice by his oven, countries being invaded by giant killer wasps and hornets, and more!

Long, yet brief pause, we have returned from the depths of the afterlife. with possibility soaring along the horizon, we have been given another chance to prove ourselves to the all seeing garbage man in the sky. Sponge is absent but will return with the next episode! today we talked with @Natalune ! too short of a conversation. More to come :) thank you for being awesome and patient everyone! Go Subscribe to this awesome human! Natalune on YouTube, Twitch, Twitter, and Instagram!  @natalune www.youtube.com/natalune WAHT game streaming with Christine www.youtube.com/user/MegaPumpkinTits   Are YOU a STARWARS fan? You're definitely doing something wrong if you don't know who any of these guys are: Rogue Squadron Podcast www.roguesquadronpodcast.com/ San-Diego Sabers Podcast www.sandiegosabers.net/ The Generation X-Wing Podcast www.facebook.com/generationxwingpodcast/ Star Wars Common Wealth Podcast Network www.starwarscommonwealth.com/   Follow us on twitter: twitter.com/RileyTBO Like our Facebook page: www.facebook.com/TheBigOpen/ We Just got an Instagram! www.instagram.com/thebigopenpodcast leave us some feedback: thebigopenpodcast@gmail.com We are also on iTunes and now the Google Play store!   All background music, other than the opening song, was written and produced by me, Riley. You could find more of my music as well as the instrumentals in these episodes of The Big Open on my personal Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/rileythefoxx Opening song produced by: Boost by Joakim Karud @joakimkarud Music promoted by Audio Library youtu.be/6z227WiJeJM

Multiple Chemical Sensitivity can affect people on both large and small scales. If you're suffering daily from seemingly mild symptoms like headaches, wheezing, sneezing, burning eyes, and eczema, it might be due to the hundreds of toxic chemicals you're exposed to through VOC's in your housepaint, fragrance from your perfume, or toxins in your spring rain scented fabric softener.

Steve and Mitch talk about the new Transformers movie as well as a Batman robber. They then discuss how even senior citizens can be as big of a pain as a teenager, and a few other things that will help you waste time in the most entertaining way possible. Follow us on Facebook: www.facebook.com/losthourspodcast Follow us on Twitter:  www.twitter.com/losthrscast Follow us on Instagram: lost_hours