Podcasts about Ferrel

Buddy the Elf--what's your favorite color? Will Ferrel brings us a modern holiday classic as the man who was raised by elves up in the North Pole and has just found out he was adopted...so off he goes to meet his real father in the land of humans: New York City. It's Ferrel at his best, the fish out of water, the giant fool with a heart of gold and innocent wisdom...which is also perfect for Christmas. We watch and discuss!

Intro:  One More Night – Can                                                                                                                                   1.  Tokyo Storm Warning – Elvis Costello & the Attractions (6:25)                      2.  Something in the Air – Thunderclap Newman (3:55)                  3. Rainstorm – The Raincoats (4:30)                                                                      4.  Riders on the Storm – The Doors (7:09)                                    5. Thunderbolt – Björk (5:15)                                                                                                                                                                                                                       6.  Fire and Lightning – Thomas Morley, Ferrel (0:46)                                  7.  Jersey Lightning – Luis Russell & his Orchestra (3:23)                                            8.  Call It Stormy Monday, But Tuesday Is Just As Bad – T-Bone Walker & his Guitar (3:02)                                                                           9.  Thunderstorm – The Abyssinians (3:21)                                                                                                                                                                                                 10.  Midnight on the Stormy Sea – Blue Sky Boys (2:52)                                     11.  Shelter from the Storm – Bob Dylan (5:06)                                                                                                                                                                                         12.  The Cyclone of Rye Cove – New Lost City Ramblers (3:12)                         13.  Curtain Music from ‘The Tempest' – Matthew Locke, Poeticall Musicke (3:32)                                         14.  Storm Signal – Faten Kanaan (2:10)                                       15.  Gathering Storm – Godspeed You! Black Emperor (11:10)                                                                                                                                                                        16.  Stormy Hawaiian Weather – Masters' Hawaiians (2:50)                                17.  The Storms are on the Ocean – Carter Family (2:46)                                    18.  Storm Warning – Dick Morrissey Quartet (7:12)                                            19.  Back Water Blues – Bessie Smith (3:17)                                                                                                                                                                                             20.  Louisiana 1927 – Randy Newman (2:54)                                     21.  The Sheel Raw Flood – Lou Killen (1:58)                                                                                                                                                                                            22.  After the Flood – Mogwai (5:09)                                         23.  CNN Predicts a Monster Storm – Laurie Anderson & the Kronos Quartet (3:19)                                                                                                                          24.  Wind Whistles Through The Dark City – Laurie Anderson & the Kronos Quartet (1:58)                                                                         25.  The Water Rises – Our Street is a Black River – Laurie Anderson & the Kronos Quartet (4:03)                                                       26.  Thunder Continues in the Aftermath – Laurie Anderson & the Kronos Quartet (1:54)                                                                                                              27.  When the Levee Breaks – Led Zeppelin (7:10) 

My breath is shallow, My heart is lonely. The poster shadow Of many moons forshadoed. Again, I lie awake, screaming, Not calling I'm screening your calls You want ice cream with that, Or what. (Or what) Probably or what, though In a nutshell, I don't want you I thought your hollow bones Could swallow us whole To another, Long, long gone Summer. Sure, the show goes on —but it won't without you. For sure, The show goes on— But it won't without you Turn the phone on, Turn it over At the airport, Watching Conan Oh yeah, A honey blonde, Shucks. Honeysuckle wants only To become Sweet, ripe salmon berry (Don't you want to) At the airport, Watching conan Overhead, I Overheard a phone call “What the fuck did you just say?” It's been 3 days; She went missing at MIA No connection to jfk No connection at all Munroe, you blind bastard All the water All the drugs All in the wash It's water under the toenails (Four fingers up, But the fourth one lost it) At the airport Watching Conan I over heard you Turn the phone off Semi-sync or something, Semi dysfunction Chemists hemispheres All his fears are In my head I stand at the front at the edge of the the platform so there's just less temptation to jump (White Nikes is for chumps) Everybody is a goddamn DJ these days Especially on her bday When she asks for a replay of that remix Bitch please I sit alone bc with my phone and my notebook. By the end of a river A cold brook Wrote a whole mother novel A classy story For the world gone wrong You fucking Morin Fungi up I get more fond l I stand in the train with my back against the wall So the shadow markers won't stand behind And grab me Fuck man, fuck off There's a lot of blue here Must be something to do here I need new gear Stuck inside of my l life Since new years Whose here? WHAT THE FUCK MORGIE? SUNNI! MORE HEINIKEN!!!! You CANNOT. Drink with that ankle monitor on. I know. So why are you drinking?! I took the ankle monitor off. Nogga yo feet is small. Like smaller than mine. I been staring at your gut this whole train ride. How the fuck are you like a 5x And your feet are a ladies size 6? The fuck. You need some help, bro. I ain't been to the gym in two days But you got fairy feet My nigga My hip bone s apes against the railing; I've three children, but you'd not know I; I'm holding in cereal, cleaning out stuff for cereal boxes m, Audio level Aux chords polished Shined as silver, Hair as Golden, Still no meadows, My eyes rest in My, I'm tired. Please don't mind me, Bright blue jumper Still no meadow I lay down in Still no meadow Hair as golden Old blue boxers Boxes Please don't mind me Oh, you started it Oh, you started it No motion sensors Already alcoholic, Still halls And still water Oh, You started it Oh. You started it Sure, don't fall out of Heroin antics, Sure, don't fall forward, Only to fall out Oh. You started it Damn! Why the devil always gotta stand behind a motherfucker, huh? Fuckin creepo. Haven't you decided yet that you are the devil. I am one and all And all things, I am Still in my mind I am, Never behind, But always ahead Always right, and not wit wars I stand in line for the stairs The slower the better the more I write Imm on fast God Fasting time I'm on fully automatic The faster we go The harder the heroin The longer we stop for The harder we party Off bandwagon There I go— (Are I now) There you are? Fully automotive Fully automatic Fully on the wrong road. It matters hoping No more tears for lost stardom No more neon signs No halter tops Shit, I work harder in hell When I don't have my phone off Shit, I work harder in hell When I take all my clothes off. I couldn't even pretend to give two fucks right now I'm chained to a train With another one headed right towards me. I don't mind what's the line your on Whose line is it anyway, good line at the equinox Step over me Hoarder I'll say, Here for all time; Wherefor art though Simple and stuck In my own ways All day I sat in haides No semtember Sick morons Long, long October Still started No water Two dogs And a blonde No show starter. But There goes all that All the next understudies And sure profiles, Fair weather friends again —creepy ass inanimate muppets. Fuck, man. Somebody stick their fuckin hand up Elmo's ass before I punch him. Don't punch Elmo. Who doesn't love Elmo. I do not. What did you say your name was? I didn't. What did you say is your expertise? Rhythms. Mister mister l NOOOOOOOO. Some black dude rubbed his whole dick against my wrist on the subway train. gnarly. It was warm. And weird— Like a fucking Sleeping cat Under Egyptian cotton AGHHHHHHJ. AOh no. I THOUGHT MY HAND WENT PARALYZED. It just siezed up, real crunchy, like— *chicken foot arm* I automatically had like the whole thing going on. The worst part was that it was warm— And soft// But HUGE. I was like What ANIMAL is that. I will never. I could NEVER I said. what. I just got to the point in my life where I realized I wasn't interested in anything. !but especially I'm looking for Sage to burn I goy money go burn I got time to earn mi got money to chase Ain't got money to waste You've got to admit x It's a good savings system —for once, the sauce sounded like symphonies And wreaked of green peppers, or rather, was fragrant CHECKPOINT! I remember this part! I remember this place This time This dance This song, Then— everyone does And everything does, doesn't it? Show ants the advocate The advocate of another time I think I ran here on What if everything cheaper online But it's just the adventure you wished for Have you ever tried to be mad With squeaky ass shoes on Seriously Have you ever tied to like walk away Or stop away mad With squeaky ass shoes? Is that the pub? I guess. You guess! Is this the right pub or is it not? I don't know which pub is the right pub! He just said “Irish pub” you could throw a rock and hit one! Sometimes it's best, To just not give A single fuck at all At all at all A single fuck at all. I don't give a flipping song! Woah now i don't give a flap or a stick! Alright, alright. Leave me alone to die I'll melt inside the world A coin upon a string Run, girl, run Of course, of course It lives again It'll come again When the Sunnis down. I can't wait till the sundown I can't wait till the world is kind And the girls are gone And the birds all hush And the dogs don't bark And the sun downt come Till I'm long long gone and out of it I'm over her, no more war and art over sodom And stardom as startuduat Like I said, you started it I always did I didn't want I only done To suffer Suffer more Will you rot you blossom corpse The art is done The art is done! The water's hot No wonder white people fucking hate us. I saw a black dude on the train. Today with his dick in his pocket. NO, GOD. WHY! And he was holding it, too. I'm like “What for?!” Jesus Christ's. It was in his pocket. Outlined and everything, With his fucking grip around it Like it was a fucking animal. No! No! Man some people are so fuckin wrong I hate pda. I fuckin hate it. The Real versions come across a parallel reality's version of themselves—who by some chance, also happened to cross paths with each other—however—this band of miscreants are HOOLIGANS—unruly lawbreakers who cause chaos, confusion, and trouble to the good people of Where the fuck is this. —wherever they are. Don't come round here! I will fuck your socks off— and sell them back to you! The sex was free; But the socks will cost you. But—they're my socks. Were and could be again…for a price. Goddamn. Yes, Goddamn indeed. BROH. JOHN OLIVER IS MAD BRITISH. AVADAKAVARAH! I TOLD YOU, I WAS A WITCH DOCTOR! WHATEVER! I THOUGHT YOU WERE A LATE NIGHT HOST! EVERYBODY HAS A DAY JOB. THAT'S A NIGHT JOB! EXPECTO-PA– POTTER!!! WHAT IN THE [BEEP}! YOU'RE A WIZARD?! OF COURSE I'M A BLOODY WIZARD–WHAT THE HELL DO I LOOK LIKE TO YOU?! ANOTHER LATE NIGHT HOST–OR WHATEVER! “OR WHATEVER” I'M A WIZARD– HARRY. What the [bleep] EVERYBODY HAS A DAY JOB ™ Please, by all means, Keep your pretty white girlfriend. I want to see those eyes come through What a handsome couple. They are the scariest thing ever. Let them be, then; Out to be fun to watch. I can't listen to Drake on my loud speakers bro. Not—like loud, man. That shit makes me feel like a whole ass basic black girl. True story. Sometimes you gotta distance yourself from the “yassss” birds. I saw this one comedian performing— Well, I think he was a comedian. He wasn't funny to me but, He had like 710K followers And he was really really pretty. I had to notice that, because as imm listening to him preform, about 30 minutes into the video— I was waiting to see if he would make me actually laugh— He didn't— But— As I was trying to figure out how he has 710K followers And has not made me laugh, not once I start paying closer attention to him— And I realize; “Oh” He is major good looking. At first I didn't notice— I like white guys— so, Of course, At first glance I'm like “Hey brother!” You know, like “That's my son!” I'm like “Yeah, make me laugh, boy.” But he didn't And then as I start to wonder Like, Why or how he has so large of a following I notice he's very beautiful. And I mean, like mad gorgeous. Like ideally— I'm like “Oh” and as I'm realizing this, He's saying the punchline to a “joke,” And as he's saying it, I realize that way in the back, Like you can hear that they're in the back Cause the camera is in the center, And like half of the audience is behind the film crew , and you can hear these girls are in the way— Like in the way back Like in the way, way back, You can hear like a pack of ratchets— Yes— these must be his die hards— His squad. Not like his homies or anything, but like The Groupies. You know. The hopefuls. He's got this group of black girls like hackling in the back, like clapping hard at all his punches like “YAS!” “SAY IT!” And it was funny because his reaction to these girls was like “I'm—not in control of this.” “RIGHT!” “SAY LESS!” I'm like, Oh, I see how that works, now. {Enter The Multiverse} And even I Just want it to fucking stop So it can just be over with Oh why, Not another fucking lover boy After all of them Oh no— But this one's worse; Maybe even the worst of all of them Because as I exit my prison cell, I find this dude behind bars— Maybe even happily. And now I'm out into the world Supposedly free— But still trapped with this mentality As if whatever I had before— Maybe even possibly the worst, lowest existence At least for me, Was somehow Better —can anyone tell me why? Not even God, besides the obvious point that perhaps The Devil is in the mind; He likes to arouse, To play games, And tricks And I, Myself Perhaps Have fallen prey, Not to become victim to this; But a player in the game. A pawn. AND WHY HAS NOBODY DRAWN ON THESE YET, THEY'VE BEEN UP FOR SEEMINGLY forever and always And this nigga has Not one snaggletooth No graffiti tettoos No fucking sharpie lip injections. Nothing. Do you remember that story how Johnny Depp hated his face up on a billboard— So he went rogue and painted over it? Yeah? So? What if it's like that. I don't think it's like that. —I think it's the opposite of that, actually. And if anything— If I see not a one defacing of these posters And they are everywhere If anything, Jimmy Fallon is the guy With a spray bottle of acetone And a fucking microfiber rag Wiping that shit off In his free time WHAT FREE TIME? You tell me. But first— Somebody— Anybody tell me Why this happened. At all. Anybody? Somebody. C'mon. {Enter The Multiverse} If you'll excuse me, I actually have to get going. Where are you going? I don't know: I just— JOHNNY DEPP must be going. Have to. he does not know, however, that he is stuck in a movie—which has no definitive ending. Well actually, This movie has like— 30 alternative endings Wait, 30 alternative endings? 30-40 Woah. That's nuts. Which makes it even cooler. If you ever blow my mind again like that, I'll actually kill you. I've been watching a lot of LMN Lifetime movie network—Why?! Because this shit is hilarious! Isn't it! YO. This shit is PIZZA It IS. What? Why is it pizza? Cause it's not pizza If it's not CHEEZY. ahaha. While traditional Thai pineapple fried rice has tomatoes within the vegetable medley, I opted instead for this recipe to use a sauced red pepper tomato sauce glaze to top the dish, for a new school American twist and flare. ½ cup chopped mushrooms ½ cup scallions ¼ cup white onion ½ cup red onion ¼ cup Pasilla pepper ½ cup red pepper cup white onions ½ cup yellow pepper ¾ cup green pepper 1 cup fresh basil 1 cup fresh pineapple UmBRIDGE. What. NO, Um— A bridge appears out of nowhere. lol why do you have no hair? I dunno; mate. Wizards. Don't go there— You're fired. I beg your pardon Please, don't beg. You are officially decommissioned as headmaster! This is the minister of magic Is that what it was. I guess, I don't know; I'm just along for the STEWIE. WHAT MA, WHAT. TEN AND TWO!! You know what, let me drive. Oh, finally—stewie has his own aplorable Boston accent, (hybrid proper English, of course. ) What does that even sound like Strange. The lady working at Trader Joe's was so beautiful to me, I had to tell her. I loved her Locs, I loved her glasses I loved her accent. So I just had to ask where she's from— I do that sometimes. If I really love someone's accent, I have to ask where their from to try to get there one day; So I asked her, “Where are you from?” And she says “Haiti,” And I was like “Wow, cool” And then I thought about it for a second, And I asked “Do you ever miss home” And she just laughed I was like “Oh, guess not” Some context I had been homesick lately, But I grew up in Alaska And I consider myself from California, Having spent most of my adult life there So coming to New York has been like Living on the other side of the world; And sometimes that sucks. But sometimes, and I have realized that wherever you're from, To get to New York is sometimes a blessing. She didn't even say yes or no, She just laughed. Now I'm worried about Haiti. I was worried about it before; But now I'm like; “Do you miss home?” She's like “Hahaha” I'm like “Oh damn.” I count my blessings. So JOHNNY DEPP just like excuses himself, wanders out into the street, and then—? Yeah. And then what? I don't know yet, I'm kind of busy these days. “BUSY?!” BUSY DOING WHAT?! Beep boop. Eee—ooh. Beep—boop—boop. Yah-yah-yah— APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE I'll show you all my scars, huh This one, she look like the reaper That's my girl, You bet she a keeper Ya'll sleepin on us What Yeah What Yeah What You sleeping on us I been in this b'niss APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. It's not a bad song. Is it a song? Is it? idk I just like balls in my face, is all. ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. [A Classic red dodgeball beams Who is it? WILL FERREL Is that how you spell it? Why will Ferrel? Cause I Want it TO MAKE ME LAUGH. HOW. JUST DO IT. Oh. I get it: So my pain is funny to you? [FINE, IT'S SOMEONE ELSE] Oh shit, that guy did look just like Will Ferrel, but OLD. He's old now, ain't he? Wasn't he always? [FINE] CUT. I QUIT. CUT TO: You and I, sir, have a longstanding arrangement. Would it be more comfortable to–sit? Yikes. (Whatever, we'll work on it.) [The Festiva– {Enter The Multiverse} I need a toothbrush to scrub my brain. I'm The lilly of the valley In the Belly of the beast I been swallowed by a whale I'm a whole damn story Woah I am the Lilly of the the valley I am the rider of the horse I am seeker of truth Writer of lines Sayer of lies (I might say a lie; But I just won't tell it) What is your deal with the devil. She knows I have a deal with ‘em. Well, the truth is— I have to turn ya! He's a good old country boy— From the simple south— A simple soul And they all believed him, word for word “I's born in New York” —he sounded assured. Gone, now, boy Go crack dat corn. Gone down south Go crack dat corn Gone, ol boy Go crack dat corn m —got no soul? Go crack dat corn. Aaaaghhh. I have a headache. why the fuck are you freaking out?! Because I don't know what I wrote. I must admit, There are things Where there should be no things There are springs Where there should be no springs There are strings Where there should be no strings And imm quite sure With no rules enforced —it's just a static cling Sort of thing OWW, my EYES. Nobody should have this much power. Nobody does. I don't get it. (I still don't understand why this happened.) He must have perfect genetics. Or something. THIS FOOL IS FIXING ME UP TO DIE!!!!! I AM THECRISCO QUEEN DIRTY NOT CLEAN WHAT CAN I SAY I LIKE GREASE MONEY EVERYDAY BANKROLL INCREASE DEEP FRY HIGH SUNNI BLŪ Yo VO. Ok— so sometimes things go shitty. Like, mad shitty. YOOOOO. My measurements are 34C, 24 waist, and 55 in height. I couldn't understand why a girl this perfect should have to be selling sex at all, But I supposed nowadays, all women were prostitutes in some sort of way. This one's 22 years old and 96 pounds Men are sick fucking creatures. Whose fucking child is this?! COME GET YOUR DAUGHTER. Although, you know—I get it. My mom bought a Mercedes in cash And I'm still in educational debt. I just now today realized. That could have been a college fund. But she wanted a Mercedes. It's okay that I'm a bit fucked up in the head. Something went terribly wrong. All and all, Myself and this perfect girl, Cost around the same For an entire night— But hey, I think she's low balling herself On the 24 hour special. That's an entire day of my time, That's at least 10K. ‍♀️ She has a perfect body and two eyes that are different colors, But I'm a literary genius. You don't need words to soothe your boner thiugh, Or show off at a black tie function, do you? A stroll on the red carpet, Or some opulent fucking 5-star charade. How much does she cost, I wonder? She says, “I also accept bitcoin, etherum, gold and silver.” On God, These fake lip hoes is robbin' niggas. Men are sick creatures though. “Here's my gold watch” Fucking gross. I cruise escort sites for entertainment, Having learned my value as a woman isn't the visual, Visceral thing men are usually looking for— No judgement, Because I've realized that if I too had a perfect body. I myself would be living in some kind of oppulent, prostitution fuck-hole, With everybody else in my generation, That didn't get married— And then, probably divorced. I realized a long time ago that this was the reason my mother Always hated my body more than I ever could have— which is fine, Because eventually I inherited this hatred. I could have eventually grown out of it— But she couldn't see that. I was a “nasty fat heifer” On her worst days, And now, Even on my best days— I still am. Nevermind that eventually my ex husband would Think of my hair as nappy, or That I actually did end up kind of sort of growing out of being A fat, nasty heifer— Kind of. But the fact that it's taken me the entirety of my life to realize my worth as a woman Would always be defined by that Of what a man idealized as “Worthy” Well, That in itself Gives me the dismissive ability To have days where I do nothing, But sit back, Cruising escort sites and shipping on Amazon for yoga mats, Wanting the experience of the world Without really being beautiful enough for it And waiting to fade Into the next lifetime. [All the black girls cost less Because they have to.] Men are sick creatures. They'll take a butterface, Ugly ass white girl Over a pretty one that's dark skinned And these are just The facts of life (So far.) Piper of Phoenix Valiant, bold, and brazen This woman, I love— In the wings for fortune, To honor, I love With wisdom, And aged like fine wine We all become I want body like Sofia But never met the real Rebecca. Yo. YO. Let's spend $60 o lip gloss. Okay. Hey. Ways crackin. I just bought a $12,000 mattress. Let's take a nap in it. Hey girl. Heeeeeeey. This yoga mat cost $200. That's fresh. You think THATS RICH?! Seems pretty rich to me. You can't get any of this stuff on Amazon. That's fucking psycho. These loafers? Uh uh. $2,000. For WAT. (Whispers) Eeel skiiiin. Gross! I'm HUNGRY Got grits, Ain't got no sugar. No butter— —ain't hurt nobody. Poverty is a whole damn show. Close the door On a broke ass bitch. Poverty is a whole damn story. Got no bucks for the Whole Foods market Shopping carts full of old ass garbage No reward For a woke ass artist I'm HUNGRY. I killed myself 3 times his morning. POOR SNOOP is still a whole ass G BET ON IT HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL RAP COVER -$15 BROKE WAYNE AINT HAVING IT CHRIS ROCK THE METRO TRAIN DRIVER is NOT FUNNY— (He's still a ladies man though.) LCD SYSTEM HOOGLI BOOGLI is the reason they fear us. HOOGLI BOOGLI IS THE BLACKEST BLACK THAT EVER BLACKED. UNLIKE NIGGLY NIGGA—he is NOT FRIENDLY. He is the stuff of nightmares. A world gone wrong. Two bloodshot eyes on a black backdrop Dark black. I sold not state at screen They go uno in te night This shit doesn't make much sense, Does it? Doesn't Matter Antimatter. Ow. How far is antimatter from antithesis? Is this just a Christmas present Never said it, same diff Something something something SHUT UP. So to re-iterate— Uh huh. Niggly Nigga is friendly… Yeah, he's just— —he just looks like that. AH. What happened. Don't stand behind me like that, my nigga. Srry. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. Okay, that'll work. #timetravelingdjs Enough with these weak dick pussy motherfuckers.. I still got 30 minutes in my cycle routine! Here you come with your pussy ass punches; AIGH. OOOOOH. Come on, put some weight in them shits! Pretend it's my face. Damn. I lost fat Jimmy Fallon. How'd you lose him?! He's hard to lose! And slow! Damn! THE SUPER FAT JIMMY FALLON is trying to slim down; he munches on a chocolate chewy bar (read: eats it in two biles and grips the wrapper anxiously.) Imm a whole ass nigga Come try take me out my head I got corn in the fridge I got bread I got money to spend On you (On you$ On you I got money to spend On you I I gotta go What happened Jew stuff. Ah yes. I remember now. Yeah, that's a Jew. Rabbi?! Shh! Shut up! But— Shut up! Yo. Bama. BARAK OBAMA I told you, don't call me that. Sorry—listen, Barak. President— President Obama. [beat] …yes? Look, I need a favor. You still owe me one. Put it on my tab. Listen, this is importsnt! -_- I think I control my neighbors. Yikes. For real. I think they move based on when I move. Seems like it. You're right! It seems like it. I was agreeing with you. BROH. They got planted baby bell cheeses! THEYGOTPLANTBASEDBABYBELLCHEESES I kinda wanna see if Dillon Francis is a dad yet . I'm tryna see like a tiny version of this. Of what. Don't change a thing. I would also like tiny versions of this, This, And this— Please. Ok. And this. Are you sure!? Yes. JACK BLACK don't you ever do that to me AGAIN! What! I didn't do anything to you! What? No! You didn't? Why not? What. What the Fox News! Do you have like an exclusive contract with Fallon, or something? No, that's NBC. I really can't talk about it right now, Jack. Hey hey-/ since when are we on a first name basis? You know what— you're right— I know it, Excuse me, Mr. Black— I ought to be going. going where?! You have to get me back to my original dimension! You don't have an original dimension! What! Why not, The fourth wall has been broken, very broken. And 2. What's the second point? You shouldn't have taken that acid. What acid?! Which time?! Exactly! Goddammit! don't look at me, God made this playlist. “Jew stuff” Ever since I inducted Jack black and Alex Baldwin into the impenatrable ten Ah—ahem Nobody “inducted us” There's no induction. We were just always —always. Here. HOOGLI BOOGLI. Huh. DID YOU JACK MY RIMS? Nah man, wasn't me. [the rims are sloppily hidden under a potato sack “hidden” obviously in the corner. Hehe. NIGGLY NIGGA spots his rims in the corner. Musical torture. HOOGLI, THESE ARE MY RIMS. I don't know how those got there, man, shiet! Nigga! What! HOOGLI BOOGLI YOU BLACK ASS NIGGA DONT—COME AROUND MY HOUSE NO MORE LOL HOW DO NIGGLY NIGGA AND HOOGLI BOOGLI SHARE A HOOD? Cause it beez like that sometimes. God damn— He's so fine to me! God damn, He ages like wine! Goddamn Goddamn! I turn the time; Damn, Goddamn— Let's turn back time {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

My breath is shallow, My heart is lonely. The poster shadow Of many moons forshadoed. Again, I lie awake, screaming, Not calling I'm screening your calls You want ice cream with that, Or what. (Or what) Probably or what, though In a nutshell, I don't want you I thought your hollow bones Could swallow us whole To another, Long, long gone Summer. Sure, the show goes on —but it won't without you. For sure, The show goes on— But it won't without you Turn the phone on, Turn it over At the airport, Watching Conan Oh yeah, A honey blonde, Shucks. Honeysuckle wants only To become Sweet, ripe salmon berry (Don't you want to) At the airport, Watching conan Overhead, I Overheard a phone call “What the fuck did you just say?” It's been 3 days; She went missing at MIA No connection to jfk No connection at all Munroe, you blind bastard All the water All the drugs All in the wash It's water under the toenails (Four fingers up, But the fourth one lost it) At the airport Watching Conan I over heard you Turn the phone off Semi-sync or something, Semi dysfunction Chemists hemispheres All his fears are In my head I stand at the front at the edge of the the platform so there's just less temptation to jump (White Nikes is for chumps) Everybody is a goddamn DJ these days Especially on her bday When she asks for a replay of that remix Bitch please I sit alone bc with my phone and my notebook. By the end of a river A cold brook Wrote a whole mother novel A classy story For the world gone wrong You fucking Morin Fungi up I get more fond l I stand in the train with my back against the wall So the shadow markers won't stand behind And grab me Fuck man, fuck off There's a lot of blue here Must be something to do here I need new gear Stuck inside of my l life Since new years Whose here? WHAT THE FUCK MORGIE? SUNNI! MORE HEINIKEN!!!! You CANNOT. Drink with that ankle monitor on. I know. So why are you drinking?! I took the ankle monitor off. Nogga yo feet is small. Like smaller than mine. I been staring at your gut this whole train ride. How the fuck are you like a 5x And your feet are a ladies size 6? The fuck. You need some help, bro. I ain't been to the gym in two days But you got fairy feet My nigga My hip bone s apes against the railing; I've three children, but you'd not know I; I'm holding in cereal, cleaning out stuff for cereal boxes m, Audio level Aux chords polished Shined as silver, Hair as Golden, Still no meadows, My eyes rest in My, I'm tired. Please don't mind me, Bright blue jumper Still no meadow I lay down in Still no meadow Hair as golden Old blue boxers Boxes Please don't mind me Oh, you started it Oh, you started it No motion sensors Already alcoholic, Still halls And still water Oh, You started it Oh. You started it Sure, don't fall out of Heroin antics, Sure, don't fall forward, Only to fall out Oh. You started it Damn! Why the devil always gotta stand behind a motherfucker, huh? Fuckin creepo. Haven't you decided yet that you are the devil. I am one and all And all things, I am Still in my mind I am, Never behind, But always ahead Always right, and not wit wars I stand in line for the stairs The slower the better the more I write Imm on fast God Fasting time I'm on fully automatic The faster we go The harder the heroin The longer we stop for The harder we party Off bandwagon There I go— (Are I now) There you are? Fully automotive Fully automatic Fully on the wrong road. It matters hoping No more tears for lost stardom No more neon signs No halter tops Shit, I work harder in hell When I don't have my phone off Shit, I work harder in hell When I take all my clothes off. I couldn't even pretend to give two fucks right now I'm chained to a train With another one headed right towards me. I don't mind what's the line your on Whose line is it anyway, good line at the equinox Step over me Hoarder I'll say, Here for all time; Wherefor art though Simple and stuck In my own ways All day I sat in haides No semtember Sick morons Long, long October Still started No water Two dogs And a blonde No show starter. But There goes all that All the next understudies And sure profiles, Fair weather friends again —creepy ass inanimate muppets. Fuck, man. Somebody stick their fuckin hand up Elmo's ass before I punch him. Don't punch Elmo. Who doesn't love Elmo. I do not. What did you say your name was? I didn't. What did you say is your expertise? Rhythms. Mister mister l NOOOOOOOO. Some black dude rubbed his whole dick against my wrist on the subway train. gnarly. It was warm. And weird— Like a fucking Sleeping cat Under Egyptian cotton AGHHHHHHJ. AOh no. I THOUGHT MY HAND WENT PARALYZED. It just siezed up, real crunchy, like— *chicken foot arm* I automatically had like the whole thing going on. The worst part was that it was warm— And soft// But HUGE. I was like What ANIMAL is that. I will never. I could NEVER I said. what. I just got to the point in my life where I realized I wasn't interested in anything. !but especially I'm looking for Sage to burn I goy money go burn I got time to earn mi got money to chase Ain't got money to waste You've got to admit x It's a good savings system —for once, the sauce sounded like symphonies And wreaked of green peppers, or rather, was fragrant CHECKPOINT! I remember this part! I remember this place This time This dance This song, Then— everyone does And everything does, doesn't it? Show ants the advocate The advocate of another time I think I ran here on What if everything cheaper online But it's just the adventure you wished for Have you ever tried to be mad With squeaky ass shoes on Seriously Have you ever tied to like walk away Or stop away mad With squeaky ass shoes? Is that the pub? I guess. You guess! Is this the right pub or is it not? I don't know which pub is the right pub! He just said “Irish pub” you could throw a rock and hit one! Sometimes it's best, To just not give A single fuck at all At all at all A single fuck at all. I don't give a flipping song! Woah now i don't give a flap or a stick! Alright, alright. Leave me alone to die I'll melt inside the world A coin upon a string Run, girl, run Of course, of course It lives again It'll come again When the Sunnis down. I can't wait till the sundown I can't wait till the world is kind And the girls are gone And the birds all hush And the dogs don't bark And the sun downt come Till I'm long long gone and out of it I'm over her, no more war and art over sodom And stardom as startuduat Like I said, you started it I always did I didn't want I only done To suffer Suffer more Will you rot you blossom corpse The art is done The art is done! The water's hot No wonder white people fucking hate us. I saw a black dude on the train. Today with his dick in his pocket. NO, GOD. WHY! And he was holding it, too. I'm like “What for?!” Jesus Christ's. It was in his pocket. Outlined and everything, With his fucking grip around it Like it was a fucking animal. No! No! Man some people are so fuckin wrong I hate pda. I fuckin hate it. The Real versions come across a parallel reality's version of themselves—who by some chance, also happened to cross paths with each other—however—this band of miscreants are HOOLIGANS—unruly lawbreakers who cause chaos, confusion, and trouble to the good people of Where the fuck is this. —wherever they are. Don't come round here! I will fuck your socks off— and sell them back to you! The sex was free; But the socks will cost you. But—they're my socks. Were and could be again…for a price. Goddamn. Yes, Goddamn indeed. BROH. JOHN OLIVER IS MAD BRITISH. AVADAKAVARAH! I TOLD YOU, I WAS A WITCH DOCTOR! WHATEVER! I THOUGHT YOU WERE A LATE NIGHT HOST! EVERYBODY HAS A DAY JOB. THAT'S A NIGHT JOB! EXPECTO-PA– POTTER!!! WHAT IN THE [BEEP}! YOU'RE A WIZARD?! OF COURSE I'M A BLOODY WIZARD–WHAT THE HELL DO I LOOK LIKE TO YOU?! ANOTHER LATE NIGHT HOST–OR WHATEVER! “OR WHATEVER” I'M A WIZARD– HARRY. What the [bleep] EVERYBODY HAS A DAY JOB ™ Please, by all means, Keep your pretty white girlfriend. I want to see those eyes come through What a handsome couple. They are the scariest thing ever. Let them be, then; Out to be fun to watch. I can't listen to Drake on my loud speakers bro. Not—like loud, man. That shit makes me feel like a whole ass basic black girl. True story. Sometimes you gotta distance yourself from the “yassss” birds. I saw this one comedian performing— Well, I think he was a comedian. He wasn't funny to me but, He had like 710K followers And he was really really pretty. I had to notice that, because as imm listening to him preform, about 30 minutes into the video— I was waiting to see if he would make me actually laugh— He didn't— But— As I was trying to figure out how he has 710K followers And has not made me laugh, not once I start paying closer attention to him— And I realize; “Oh” He is major good looking. At first I didn't notice— I like white guys— so, Of course, At first glance I'm like “Hey brother!” You know, like “That's my son!” I'm like “Yeah, make me laugh, boy.” But he didn't And then as I start to wonder Like, Why or how he has so large of a following I notice he's very beautiful. And I mean, like mad gorgeous. Like ideally— I'm like “Oh” and as I'm realizing this, He's saying the punchline to a “joke,” And as he's saying it, I realize that way in the back, Like you can hear that they're in the back Cause the camera is in the center, And like half of the audience is behind the film crew , and you can hear these girls are in the way— Like in the way back Like in the way, way back, You can hear like a pack of ratchets— Yes— these must be his die hards— His squad. Not like his homies or anything, but like The Groupies. You know. The hopefuls. He's got this group of black girls like hackling in the back, like clapping hard at all his punches like “YAS!” “SAY IT!” And it was funny because his reaction to these girls was like “I'm—not in control of this.” “RIGHT!” “SAY LESS!” I'm like, Oh, I see how that works, now. {Enter The Multiverse} And even I Just want it to fucking stop So it can just be over with Oh why, Not another fucking lover boy After all of them Oh no— But this one's worse; Maybe even the worst of all of them Because as I exit my prison cell, I find this dude behind bars— Maybe even happily. And now I'm out into the world Supposedly free— But still trapped with this mentality As if whatever I had before— Maybe even possibly the worst, lowest existence At least for me, Was somehow Better —can anyone tell me why? Not even God, besides the obvious point that perhaps The Devil is in the mind; He likes to arouse, To play games, And tricks And I, Myself Perhaps Have fallen prey, Not to become victim to this; But a player in the game. A pawn. AND WHY HAS NOBODY DRAWN ON THESE YET, THEY'VE BEEN UP FOR SEEMINGLY forever and always And this nigga has Not one snaggletooth No graffiti tettoos No fucking sharpie lip injections. Nothing. Do you remember that story how Johnny Depp hated his face up on a billboard— So he went rogue and painted over it? Yeah? So? What if it's like that. I don't think it's like that. —I think it's the opposite of that, actually. And if anything— If I see not a one defacing of these posters And they are everywhere If anything, Jimmy Fallon is the guy With a spray bottle of acetone And a fucking microfiber rag Wiping that shit off In his free time WHAT FREE TIME? You tell me. But first— Somebody— Anybody tell me Why this happened. At all. Anybody? Somebody. C'mon. {Enter The Multiverse} If you'll excuse me, I actually have to get going. Where are you going? I don't know: I just— JOHNNY DEPP must be going. Have to. he does not know, however, that he is stuck in a movie—which has no definitive ending. Well actually, This movie has like— 30 alternative endings Wait, 30 alternative endings? 30-40 Woah. That's nuts. Which makes it even cooler. If you ever blow my mind again like that, I'll actually kill you. I've been watching a lot of LMN Lifetime movie network—Why?! Because this shit is hilarious! Isn't it! YO. This shit is PIZZA It IS. What? Why is it pizza? Cause it's not pizza If it's not CHEEZY. ahaha. While traditional Thai pineapple fried rice has tomatoes within the vegetable medley, I opted instead for this recipe to use a sauced red pepper tomato sauce glaze to top the dish, for a new school American twist and flare. ½ cup chopped mushrooms ½ cup scallions ¼ cup white onion ½ cup red onion ¼ cup Pasilla pepper ½ cup red pepper cup white onions ½ cup yellow pepper ¾ cup green pepper 1 cup fresh basil 1 cup fresh pineapple UmBRIDGE. What. NO, Um— A bridge appears out of nowhere. lol why do you have no hair? I dunno; mate. Wizards. Don't go there— You're fired. I beg your pardon Please, don't beg. You are officially decommissioned as headmaster! This is the minister of magic Is that what it was. I guess, I don't know; I'm just along for the STEWIE. WHAT MA, WHAT. TEN AND TWO!! You know what, let me drive. Oh, finally—stewie has his own aplorable Boston accent, (hybrid proper English, of course. ) What does that even sound like Strange. The lady working at Trader Joe's was so beautiful to me, I had to tell her. I loved her Locs, I loved her glasses I loved her accent. So I just had to ask where she's from— I do that sometimes. If I really love someone's accent, I have to ask where their from to try to get there one day; So I asked her, “Where are you from?” And she says “Haiti,” And I was like “Wow, cool” And then I thought about it for a second, And I asked “Do you ever miss home” And she just laughed I was like “Oh, guess not” Some context I had been homesick lately, But I grew up in Alaska And I consider myself from California, Having spent most of my adult life there So coming to New York has been like Living on the other side of the world; And sometimes that sucks. But sometimes, and I have realized that wherever you're from, To get to New York is sometimes a blessing. She didn't even say yes or no, She just laughed. Now I'm worried about Haiti. I was worried about it before; But now I'm like; “Do you miss home?” She's like “Hahaha” I'm like “Oh damn.” I count my blessings. So JOHNNY DEPP just like excuses himself, wanders out into the street, and then—? Yeah. And then what? I don't know yet, I'm kind of busy these days. “BUSY?!” BUSY DOING WHAT?! Beep boop. Eee—ooh. Beep—boop—boop. Yah-yah-yah— APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE I'll show you all my scars, huh This one, she look like the reaper That's my girl, You bet she a keeper Ya'll sleepin on us What Yeah What Yeah What You sleeping on us I been in this b'niss APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. It's not a bad song. Is it a song? Is it? idk I just like balls in my face, is all. ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. [A Classic red dodgeball beams Who is it? WILL FERREL Is that how you spell it? Why will Ferrel? Cause I Want it TO MAKE ME LAUGH. HOW. JUST DO IT. Oh. I get it: So my pain is funny to you? [FINE, IT'S SOMEONE ELSE] Oh shit, that guy did look just like Will Ferrel, but OLD. He's old now, ain't he? Wasn't he always? [FINE] CUT. I QUIT. CUT TO: You and I, sir, have a longstanding arrangement. Would it be more comfortable to–sit? Yikes. (Whatever, we'll work on it.) [The Festiva– {Enter The Multiverse} I need a toothbrush to scrub my brain. I'm The lilly of the valley In the Belly of the beast I been swallowed by a whale I'm a whole damn story Woah I am the Lilly of the the valley I am the rider of the horse I am seeker of truth Writer of lines Sayer of lies (I might say a lie; But I just won't tell it) What is your deal with the devil. She knows I have a deal with ‘em. Well, the truth is— I have to turn ya! He's a good old country boy— From the simple south— A simple soul And they all believed him, word for word “I's born in New York” —he sounded assured. Gone, now, boy Go crack dat corn. Gone down south Go crack dat corn Gone, ol boy Go crack dat corn m —got no soul? Go crack dat corn. Aaaaghhh. I have a headache. why the fuck are you freaking out?! Because I don't know what I wrote. I must admit, There are things Where there should be no things There are springs Where there should be no springs There are strings Where there should be no strings And imm quite sure With no rules enforced —it's just a static cling Sort of thing OWW, my EYES. Nobody should have this much power. Nobody does. I don't get it. (I still don't understand why this happened.) He must have perfect genetics. Or something. THIS FOOL IS FIXING ME UP TO DIE!!!!! I AM THECRISCO QUEEN DIRTY NOT CLEAN WHAT CAN I SAY I LIKE GREASE MONEY EVERYDAY BANKROLL INCREASE DEEP FRY HIGH SUNNI BLŪ Yo VO. Ok— so sometimes things go shitty. Like, mad shitty. YOOOOO. My measurements are 34C, 24 waist, and 55 in height. I couldn't understand why a girl this perfect should have to be selling sex at all, But I supposed nowadays, all women were prostitutes in some sort of way. This one's 22 years old and 96 pounds Men are sick fucking creatures. Whose fucking child is this?! COME GET YOUR DAUGHTER. Although, you know—I get it. My mom bought a Mercedes in cash And I'm still in educational debt. I just now today realized. That could have been a college fund. But she wanted a Mercedes. It's okay that I'm a bit fucked up in the head. Something went terribly wrong. All and all, Myself and this perfect girl, Cost around the same For an entire night— But hey, I think she's low balling herself On the 24 hour special. That's an entire day of my time, That's at least 10K. ‍♀️ She has a perfect body and two eyes that are different colors, But I'm a literary genius. You don't need words to soothe your boner thiugh, Or show off at a black tie function, do you? A stroll on the red carpet, Or some opulent fucking 5-star charade. How much does she cost, I wonder? She says, “I also accept bitcoin, etherum, gold and silver.” On God, These fake lip hoes is robbin' niggas. Men are sick creatures though. “Here's my gold watch” Fucking gross. I cruise escort sites for entertainment, Having learned my value as a woman isn't the visual, Visceral thing men are usually looking for— No judgement, Because I've realized that if I too had a perfect body. I myself would be living in some kind of oppulent, prostitution fuck-hole, With everybody else in my generation, That didn't get married— And then, probably divorced. I realized a long time ago that this was the reason my mother Always hated my body more than I ever could have— which is fine, Because eventually I inherited this hatred. I could have eventually grown out of it— But she couldn't see that. I was a “nasty fat heifer” On her worst days, And now, Even on my best days— I still am. Nevermind that eventually my ex husband would Think of my hair as nappy, or That I actually did end up kind of sort of growing out of being A fat, nasty heifer— Kind of. But the fact that it's taken me the entirety of my life to realize my worth as a woman Would always be defined by that Of what a man idealized as “Worthy” Well, That in itself Gives me the dismissive ability To have days where I do nothing, But sit back, Cruising escort sites and shipping on Amazon for yoga mats, Wanting the experience of the world Without really being beautiful enough for it And waiting to fade Into the next lifetime. [All the black girls cost less Because they have to.] Men are sick creatures. They'll take a butterface, Ugly ass white girl Over a pretty one that's dark skinned And these are just The facts of life (So far.) Piper of Phoenix Valiant, bold, and brazen This woman, I love— In the wings for fortune, To honor, I love With wisdom, And aged like fine wine We all become I want body like Sofia But never met the real Rebecca. Yo. YO. Let's spend $60 o lip gloss. Okay. Hey. Ways crackin. I just bought a $12,000 mattress. Let's take a nap in it. Hey girl. Heeeeeeey. This yoga mat cost $200. That's fresh. You think THATS RICH?! Seems pretty rich to me. You can't get any of this stuff on Amazon. That's fucking psycho. These loafers? Uh uh. $2,000. For WAT. (Whispers) Eeel skiiiin. Gross! I'm HUNGRY Got grits, Ain't got no sugar. No butter— —ain't hurt nobody. Poverty is a whole damn show. Close the door On a broke ass bitch. Poverty is a whole damn story. Got no bucks for the Whole Foods market Shopping carts full of old ass garbage No reward For a woke ass artist I'm HUNGRY. I killed myself 3 times his morning. POOR SNOOP is still a whole ass G BET ON IT HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL RAP COVER -$15 BROKE WAYNE AINT HAVING IT CHRIS ROCK THE METRO TRAIN DRIVER is NOT FUNNY— (He's still a ladies man though.) LCD SYSTEM HOOGLI BOOGLI is the reason they fear us. HOOGLI BOOGLI IS THE BLACKEST BLACK THAT EVER BLACKED. UNLIKE NIGGLY NIGGA—he is NOT FRIENDLY. He is the stuff of nightmares. A world gone wrong. Two bloodshot eyes on a black backdrop Dark black. I sold not state at screen They go uno in te night This shit doesn't make much sense, Does it? Doesn't Matter Antimatter. Ow. How far is antimatter from antithesis? Is this just a Christmas present Never said it, same diff Something something something SHUT UP. So to re-iterate— Uh huh. Niggly Nigga is friendly… Yeah, he's just— —he just looks like that. AH. What happened. Don't stand behind me like that, my nigga. Srry. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. Okay, that'll work. #timetravelingdjs Enough with these weak dick pussy motherfuckers.. I still got 30 minutes in my cycle routine! Here you come with your pussy ass punches; AIGH. OOOOOH. Come on, put some weight in them shits! Pretend it's my face. Damn. I lost fat Jimmy Fallon. How'd you lose him?! He's hard to lose! And slow! Damn! THE SUPER FAT JIMMY FALLON is trying to slim down; he munches on a chocolate chewy bar (read: eats it in two biles and grips the wrapper anxiously.) Imm a whole ass nigga Come try take me out my head I got corn in the fridge I got bread I got money to spend On you (On you$ On you I got money to spend On you I I gotta go What happened Jew stuff. Ah yes. I remember now. Yeah, that's a Jew. Rabbi?! Shh! Shut up! But— Shut up! Yo. Bama. BARAK OBAMA I told you, don't call me that. Sorry—listen, Barak. President— President Obama. [beat] …yes? Look, I need a favor. You still owe me one. Put it on my tab. Listen, this is importsnt! -_- I think I control my neighbors. Yikes. For real. I think they move based on when I move. Seems like it. You're right! It seems like it. I was agreeing with you. BROH. They got planted baby bell cheeses! THEYGOTPLANTBASEDBABYBELLCHEESES I kinda wanna see if Dillon Francis is a dad yet . I'm tryna see like a tiny version of this. Of what. Don't change a thing. I would also like tiny versions of this, This, And this— Please. Ok. And this. Are you sure!? Yes. JACK BLACK don't you ever do that to me AGAIN! What! I didn't do anything to you! What? No! You didn't? Why not? What. What the Fox News! Do you have like an exclusive contract with Fallon, or something? No, that's NBC. I really can't talk about it right now, Jack. Hey hey-/ since when are we on a first name basis? You know what— you're right— I know it, Excuse me, Mr. Black— I ought to be going. going where?! You have to get me back to my original dimension! You don't have an original dimension! What! Why not, The fourth wall has been broken, very broken. And 2. What's the second point? You shouldn't have taken that acid. What acid?! Which time?! Exactly! Goddammit! don't look at me, God made this playlist. “Jew stuff” Ever since I inducted Jack black and Alex Baldwin into the impenatrable ten Ah—ahem Nobody “inducted us” There's no induction. We were just always —always. Here. HOOGLI BOOGLI. Huh. DID YOU JACK MY RIMS? Nah man, wasn't me. [the rims are sloppily hidden under a potato sack “hidden” obviously in the corner. Hehe. NIGGLY NIGGA spots his rims in the corner. Musical torture. HOOGLI, THESE ARE MY RIMS. I don't know how those got there, man, shiet! Nigga! What! HOOGLI BOOGLI YOU BLACK ASS NIGGA DONT—COME AROUND MY HOUSE NO MORE LOL HOW DO NIGGLY NIGGA AND HOOGLI BOOGLI SHARE A HOOD? Cause it beez like that sometimes. God damn— He's so fine to me! God damn, He ages like wine! Goddamn Goddamn! I turn the time; Damn, Goddamn— Let's turn back time {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

My breath is shallow, My heart is lonely. The poster shadow Of many moons forshadoed. Again, I lie awake, screaming, Not calling I'm screening your calls You want ice cream with that, Or what. (Or what) Probably or what, though In a nutshell, I don't want you I thought your hollow bones Could swallow us whole To another, Long, long gone Summer. Sure, the show goes on —but it won't without you. For sure, The show goes on— But it won't without you Turn the phone on, Turn it over At the airport, Watching Conan Oh yeah, A honey blonde, Shucks. Honeysuckle wants only To become Sweet, ripe salmon berry (Don't you want to) At the airport, Watching conan Overhead, I Overheard a phone call “What the fuck did you just say?” It's been 3 days; She went missing at MIA No connection to jfk No connection at all Munroe, you blind bastard All the water All the drugs All in the wash It's water under the toenails (Four fingers up, But the fourth one lost it) At the airport Watching Conan I over heard you Turn the phone off Semi-sync or something, Semi dysfunction Chemists hemispheres All his fears are In my head I stand at the front at the edge of the the platform so there's just less temptation to jump (White Nikes is for chumps) Everybody is a goddamn DJ these days Especially on her bday When she asks for a replay of that remix Bitch please I sit alone bc with my phone and my notebook. By the end of a river A cold brook Wrote a whole mother novel A classy story For the world gone wrong You fucking Morin Fungi up I get more fond l I stand in the train with my back against the wall So the shadow markers won't stand behind And grab me Fuck man, fuck off There's a lot of blue here Must be something to do here I need new gear Stuck inside of my l life Since new years Whose here? WHAT THE FUCK MORGIE? SUNNI! MORE HEINIKEN!!!! You CANNOT. Drink with that ankle monitor on. I know. So why are you drinking?! I took the ankle monitor off. Nogga yo feet is small. Like smaller than mine. I been staring at your gut this whole train ride. How the fuck are you like a 5x And your feet are a ladies size 6? The fuck. You need some help, bro. I ain't been to the gym in two days But you got fairy feet My nigga My hip bone s apes against the railing; I've three children, but you'd not know I; I'm holding in cereal, cleaning out stuff for cereal boxes m, Audio level Aux chords polished Shined as silver, Hair as Golden, Still no meadows, My eyes rest in My, I'm tired. Please don't mind me, Bright blue jumper Still no meadow I lay down in Still no meadow Hair as golden Old blue boxers Boxes Please don't mind me Oh, you started it Oh, you started it No motion sensors Already alcoholic, Still halls And still water Oh, You started it Oh. You started it Sure, don't fall out of Heroin antics, Sure, don't fall forward, Only to fall out Oh. You started it Damn! Why the devil always gotta stand behind a motherfucker, huh? Fuckin creepo. Haven't you decided yet that you are the devil. I am one and all And all things, I am Still in my mind I am, Never behind, But always ahead Always right, and not wit wars I stand in line for the stairs The slower the better the more I write Imm on fast God Fasting time I'm on fully automatic The faster we go The harder the heroin The longer we stop for The harder we party Off bandwagon There I go— (Are I now) There you are? Fully automotive Fully automatic Fully on the wrong road. It matters hoping No more tears for lost stardom No more neon signs No halter tops Shit, I work harder in hell When I don't have my phone off Shit, I work harder in hell When I take all my clothes off. I couldn't even pretend to give two fucks right now I'm chained to a train With another one headed right towards me. I don't mind what's the line your on Whose line is it anyway, good line at the equinox Step over me Hoarder I'll say, Here for all time; Wherefor art though Simple and stuck In my own ways All day I sat in haides No semtember Sick morons Long, long October Still started No water Two dogs And a blonde No show starter. But There goes all that All the next understudies And sure profiles, Fair weather friends again —creepy ass inanimate muppets. Fuck, man. Somebody stick their fuckin hand up Elmo's ass before I punch him. Don't punch Elmo. Who doesn't love Elmo. I do not. What did you say your name was? I didn't. What did you say is your expertise? Rhythms. Mister mister l NOOOOOOOO. Some black dude rubbed his whole dick against my wrist on the subway train. gnarly. It was warm. And weird— Like a fucking Sleeping cat Under Egyptian cotton AGHHHHHHJ. AOh no. I THOUGHT MY HAND WENT PARALYZED. It just siezed up, real crunchy, like— *chicken foot arm* I automatically had like the whole thing going on. The worst part was that it was warm— And soft// But HUGE. I was like What ANIMAL is that. I will never. I could NEVER I said. what. I just got to the point in my life where I realized I wasn't interested in anything. !but especially I'm looking for Sage to burn I goy money go burn I got time to earn mi got money to chase Ain't got money to waste You've got to admit x It's a good savings system —for once, the sauce sounded like symphonies And wreaked of green peppers, or rather, was fragrant CHECKPOINT! I remember this part! I remember this place This time This dance This song, Then— everyone does And everything does, doesn't it? Show ants the advocate The advocate of another time I think I ran here on What if everything cheaper online But it's just the adventure you wished for Have you ever tried to be mad With squeaky ass shoes on Seriously Have you ever tied to like walk away Or stop away mad With squeaky ass shoes? Is that the pub? I guess. You guess! Is this the right pub or is it not? I don't know which pub is the right pub! He just said “Irish pub” you could throw a rock and hit one! Sometimes it's best, To just not give A single fuck at all At all at all A single fuck at all. I don't give a flipping song! Woah now i don't give a flap or a stick! Alright, alright. Leave me alone to die I'll melt inside the world A coin upon a string Run, girl, run Of course, of course It lives again It'll come again When the Sunnis down. I can't wait till the sundown I can't wait till the world is kind And the girls are gone And the birds all hush And the dogs don't bark And the sun downt come Till I'm long long gone and out of it I'm over her, no more war and art over sodom And stardom as startuduat Like I said, you started it I always did I didn't want I only done To suffer Suffer more Will you rot you blossom corpse The art is done The art is done! The water's hot No wonder white people fucking hate us. I saw a black dude on the train. Today with his dick in his pocket. NO, GOD. WHY! And he was holding it, too. I'm like “What for?!” Jesus Christ's. It was in his pocket. Outlined and everything, With his fucking grip around it Like it was a fucking animal. No! No! Man some people are so fuckin wrong I hate pda. I fuckin hate it. The Real versions come across a parallel reality's version of themselves—who by some chance, also happened to cross paths with each other—however—this band of miscreants are HOOLIGANS—unruly lawbreakers who cause chaos, confusion, and trouble to the good people of Where the fuck is this. —wherever they are. Don't come round here! I will fuck your socks off— and sell them back to you! The sex was free; But the socks will cost you. But—they're my socks. Were and could be again…for a price. Goddamn. Yes, Goddamn indeed. BROH. JOHN OLIVER IS MAD BRITISH. AVADAKAVARAH! I TOLD YOU, I WAS A WITCH DOCTOR! WHATEVER! I THOUGHT YOU WERE A LATE NIGHT HOST! EVERYBODY HAS A DAY JOB. THAT'S A NIGHT JOB! EXPECTO-PA– POTTER!!! WHAT IN THE [BEEP}! YOU'RE A WIZARD?! OF COURSE I'M A BLOODY WIZARD–WHAT THE HELL DO I LOOK LIKE TO YOU?! ANOTHER LATE NIGHT HOST–OR WHATEVER! “OR WHATEVER” I'M A WIZARD– HARRY. What the [bleep] EVERYBODY HAS A DAY JOB ™ Please, by all means, Keep your pretty white girlfriend. I want to see those eyes come through What a handsome couple. They are the scariest thing ever. Let them be, then; Out to be fun to watch. I can't listen to Drake on my loud speakers bro. Not—like loud, man. That shit makes me feel like a whole ass basic black girl. True story. Sometimes you gotta distance yourself from the “yassss” birds. I saw this one comedian performing— Well, I think he was a comedian. He wasn't funny to me but, He had like 710K followers And he was really really pretty. I had to notice that, because as imm listening to him preform, about 30 minutes into the video— I was waiting to see if he would make me actually laugh— He didn't— But— As I was trying to figure out how he has 710K followers And has not made me laugh, not once I start paying closer attention to him— And I realize; “Oh” He is major good looking. At first I didn't notice— I like white guys— so, Of course, At first glance I'm like “Hey brother!” You know, like “That's my son!” I'm like “Yeah, make me laugh, boy.” But he didn't And then as I start to wonder Like, Why or how he has so large of a following I notice he's very beautiful. And I mean, like mad gorgeous. Like ideally— I'm like “Oh” and as I'm realizing this, He's saying the punchline to a “joke,” And as he's saying it, I realize that way in the back, Like you can hear that they're in the back Cause the camera is in the center, And like half of the audience is behind the film crew , and you can hear these girls are in the way— Like in the way back Like in the way, way back, You can hear like a pack of ratchets— Yes— these must be his die hards— His squad. Not like his homies or anything, but like The Groupies. You know. The hopefuls. He's got this group of black girls like hackling in the back, like clapping hard at all his punches like “YAS!” “SAY IT!” And it was funny because his reaction to these girls was like “I'm—not in control of this.” “RIGHT!” “SAY LESS!” I'm like, Oh, I see how that works, now. {Enter The Multiverse} And even I Just want it to fucking stop So it can just be over with Oh why, Not another fucking lover boy After all of them Oh no— But this one's worse; Maybe even the worst of all of them Because as I exit my prison cell, I find this dude behind bars— Maybe even happily. And now I'm out into the world Supposedly free— But still trapped with this mentality As if whatever I had before— Maybe even possibly the worst, lowest existence At least for me, Was somehow Better —can anyone tell me why? Not even God, besides the obvious point that perhaps The Devil is in the mind; He likes to arouse, To play games, And tricks And I, Myself Perhaps Have fallen prey, Not to become victim to this; But a player in the game. A pawn. AND WHY HAS NOBODY DRAWN ON THESE YET, THEY'VE BEEN UP FOR SEEMINGLY forever and always And this nigga has Not one snaggletooth No graffiti tettoos No fucking sharpie lip injections. Nothing. Do you remember that story how Johnny Depp hated his face up on a billboard— So he went rogue and painted over it? Yeah? So? What if it's like that. I don't think it's like that. —I think it's the opposite of that, actually. And if anything— If I see not a one defacing of these posters And they are everywhere If anything, Jimmy Fallon is the guy With a spray bottle of acetone And a fucking microfiber rag Wiping that shit off In his free time WHAT FREE TIME? You tell me. But first— Somebody— Anybody tell me Why this happened. At all. Anybody? Somebody. C'mon. {Enter The Multiverse} If you'll excuse me, I actually have to get going. Where are you going? I don't know: I just— JOHNNY DEPP must be going. Have to. he does not know, however, that he is stuck in a movie—which has no definitive ending. Well actually, This movie has like— 30 alternative endings Wait, 30 alternative endings? 30-40 Woah. That's nuts. Which makes it even cooler. If you ever blow my mind again like that, I'll actually kill you. I've been watching a lot of LMN Lifetime movie network—Why?! Because this shit is hilarious! Isn't it! YO. This shit is PIZZA It IS. What? Why is it pizza? Cause it's not pizza If it's not CHEEZY. ahaha. While traditional Thai pineapple fried rice has tomatoes within the vegetable medley, I opted instead for this recipe to use a sauced red pepper tomato sauce glaze to top the dish, for a new school American twist and flare. ½ cup chopped mushrooms ½ cup scallions ¼ cup white onion ½ cup red onion ¼ cup Pasilla pepper ½ cup red pepper cup white onions ½ cup yellow pepper ¾ cup green pepper 1 cup fresh basil 1 cup fresh pineapple UmBRIDGE. What. NO, Um— A bridge appears out of nowhere. lol why do you have no hair? I dunno; mate. Wizards. Don't go there— You're fired. I beg your pardon Please, don't beg. You are officially decommissioned as headmaster! This is the minister of magic Is that what it was. I guess, I don't know; I'm just along for the STEWIE. WHAT MA, WHAT. TEN AND TWO!! You know what, let me drive. Oh, finally—stewie has his own aplorable Boston accent, (hybrid proper English, of course. ) What does that even sound like Strange. The lady working at Trader Joe's was so beautiful to me, I had to tell her. I loved her Locs, I loved her glasses I loved her accent. So I just had to ask where she's from— I do that sometimes. If I really love someone's accent, I have to ask where their from to try to get there one day; So I asked her, “Where are you from?” And she says “Haiti,” And I was like “Wow, cool” And then I thought about it for a second, And I asked “Do you ever miss home” And she just laughed I was like “Oh, guess not” Some context I had been homesick lately, But I grew up in Alaska And I consider myself from California, Having spent most of my adult life there So coming to New York has been like Living on the other side of the world; And sometimes that sucks. But sometimes, and I have realized that wherever you're from, To get to New York is sometimes a blessing. She didn't even say yes or no, She just laughed. Now I'm worried about Haiti. I was worried about it before; But now I'm like; “Do you miss home?” She's like “Hahaha” I'm like “Oh damn.” I count my blessings. So JOHNNY DEPP just like excuses himself, wanders out into the street, and then—? Yeah. And then what? I don't know yet, I'm kind of busy these days. “BUSY?!” BUSY DOING WHAT?! Beep boop. Eee—ooh. Beep—boop—boop. Yah-yah-yah— APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE I'll show you all my scars, huh This one, she look like the reaper That's my girl, You bet she a keeper Ya'll sleepin on us What Yeah What Yeah What You sleeping on us I been in this b'niss APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. It's not a bad song. Is it a song? Is it? idk I just like balls in my face, is all. ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. [A Classic red dodgeball beams Who is it? WILL FERREL Is that how you spell it? Why will Ferrel? Cause I Want it TO MAKE ME LAUGH. HOW. JUST DO IT. Oh. I get it: So my pain is funny to you? [FINE, IT'S SOMEONE ELSE] Oh shit, that guy did look just like Will Ferrel, but OLD. He's old now, ain't he? Wasn't he always? [FINE] CUT. I QUIT. CUT TO: You and I, sir, have a longstanding arrangement. Would it be more comfortable to–sit? Yikes. (Whatever, we'll work on it.) [The Festiva– {Enter The Multiverse} I need a toothbrush to scrub my brain. I'm The lilly of the valley In the Belly of the beast I been swallowed by a whale I'm a whole damn story Woah I am the Lilly of the the valley I am the rider of the horse I am seeker of truth Writer of lines Sayer of lies (I might say a lie; But I just won't tell it) What is your deal with the devil. She knows I have a deal with ‘em. Well, the truth is— I have to turn ya! He's a good old country boy— From the simple south— A simple soul And they all believed him, word for word “I's born in New York” —he sounded assured. Gone, now, boy Go crack dat corn. Gone down south Go crack dat corn Gone, ol boy Go crack dat corn m —got no soul? Go crack dat corn. Aaaaghhh. I have a headache. why the fuck are you freaking out?! Because I don't know what I wrote. I must admit, There are things Where there should be no things There are springs Where there should be no springs There are strings Where there should be no strings And imm quite sure With no rules enforced —it's just a static cling Sort of thing OWW, my EYES. Nobody should have this much power. Nobody does. I don't get it. (I still don't understand why this happened.) He must have perfect genetics. Or something. THIS FOOL IS FIXING ME UP TO DIE!!!!! I AM THECRISCO QUEEN DIRTY NOT CLEAN WHAT CAN I SAY I LIKE GREASE MONEY EVERYDAY BANKROLL INCREASE DEEP FRY HIGH SUNNI BLŪ Yo VO. Ok— so sometimes things go shitty. Like, mad shitty. YOOOOO. My measurements are 34C, 24 waist, and 55 in height. I couldn't understand why a girl this perfect should have to be selling sex at all, But I supposed nowadays, all women were prostitutes in some sort of way. This one's 22 years old and 96 pounds Men are sick fucking creatures. Whose fucking child is this?! COME GET YOUR DAUGHTER. Although, you know—I get it. My mom bought a Mercedes in cash And I'm still in educational debt. I just now today realized. That could have been a college fund. But she wanted a Mercedes. It's okay that I'm a bit fucked up in the head. Something went terribly wrong. All and all, Myself and this perfect girl, Cost around the same For an entire night— But hey, I think she's low balling herself On the 24 hour special. That's an entire day of my time, That's at least 10K. ‍♀️ She has a perfect body and two eyes that are different colors, But I'm a literary genius. You don't need words to soothe your boner thiugh, Or show off at a black tie function, do you? A stroll on the red carpet, Or some opulent fucking 5-star charade. How much does she cost, I wonder? She says, “I also accept bitcoin, etherum, gold and silver.” On God, These fake lip hoes is robbin' niggas. Men are sick creatures though. “Here's my gold watch” Fucking gross. I cruise escort sites for entertainment, Having learned my value as a woman isn't the visual, Visceral thing men are usually looking for— No judgement, Because I've realized that if I too had a perfect body. I myself would be living in some kind of oppulent, prostitution fuck-hole, With everybody else in my generation, That didn't get married— And then, probably divorced. I realized a long time ago that this was the reason my mother Always hated my body more than I ever could have— which is fine, Because eventually I inherited this hatred. I could have eventually grown out of it— But she couldn't see that. I was a “nasty fat heifer” On her worst days, And now, Even on my best days— I still am. Nevermind that eventually my ex husband would Think of my hair as nappy, or That I actually did end up kind of sort of growing out of being A fat, nasty heifer— Kind of. But the fact that it's taken me the entirety of my life to realize my worth as a woman Would always be defined by that Of what a man idealized as “Worthy” Well, That in itself Gives me the dismissive ability To have days where I do nothing, But sit back, Cruising escort sites and shipping on Amazon for yoga mats, Wanting the experience of the world Without really being beautiful enough for it And waiting to fade Into the next lifetime. [All the black girls cost less Because they have to.] Men are sick creatures. They'll take a butterface, Ugly ass white girl Over a pretty one that's dark skinned And these are just The facts of life (So far.) Piper of Phoenix Valiant, bold, and brazen This woman, I love— In the wings for fortune, To honor, I love With wisdom, And aged like fine wine We all become I want body like Sofia But never met the real Rebecca. Yo. YO. Let's spend $60 o lip gloss. Okay. Hey. Ways crackin. I just bought a $12,000 mattress. Let's take a nap in it. Hey girl. Heeeeeeey. This yoga mat cost $200. That's fresh. You think THATS RICH?! Seems pretty rich to me. You can't get any of this stuff on Amazon. That's fucking psycho. These loafers? Uh uh. $2,000. For WAT. (Whispers) Eeel skiiiin. Gross! I'm HUNGRY Got grits, Ain't got no sugar. No butter— —ain't hurt nobody. Poverty is a whole damn show. Close the door On a broke ass bitch. Poverty is a whole damn story. Got no bucks for the Whole Foods market Shopping carts full of old ass garbage No reward For a woke ass artist I'm HUNGRY. I killed myself 3 times his morning. POOR SNOOP is still a whole ass G BET ON IT HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL RAP COVER -$15 BROKE WAYNE AINT HAVING IT CHRIS ROCK THE METRO TRAIN DRIVER is NOT FUNNY— (He's still a ladies man though.) LCD SYSTEM HOOGLI BOOGLI is the reason they fear us. HOOGLI BOOGLI IS THE BLACKEST BLACK THAT EVER BLACKED. UNLIKE NIGGLY NIGGA—he is NOT FRIENDLY. He is the stuff of nightmares. A world gone wrong. Two bloodshot eyes on a black backdrop Dark black. I sold not state at screen They go uno in te night This shit doesn't make much sense, Does it? Doesn't Matter Antimatter. Ow. How far is antimatter from antithesis? Is this just a Christmas present Never said it, same diff Something something something SHUT UP. So to re-iterate— Uh huh. Niggly Nigga is friendly… Yeah, he's just— —he just looks like that. AH. What happened. Don't stand behind me like that, my nigga. Srry. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. Okay, that'll work. #timetravelingdjs Enough with these weak dick pussy motherfuckers.. I still got 30 minutes in my cycle routine! Here you come with your pussy ass punches; AIGH. OOOOOH. Come on, put some weight in them shits! Pretend it's my face. Damn. I lost fat Jimmy Fallon. How'd you lose him?! He's hard to lose! And slow! Damn! THE SUPER FAT JIMMY FALLON is trying to slim down; he munches on a chocolate chewy bar (read: eats it in two biles and grips the wrapper anxiously.) Imm a whole ass nigga Come try take me out my head I got corn in the fridge I got bread I got money to spend On you (On you$ On you I got money to spend On you I I gotta go What happened Jew stuff. Ah yes. I remember now. Yeah, that's a Jew. Rabbi?! Shh! Shut up! But— Shut up! Yo. Bama. BARAK OBAMA I told you, don't call me that. Sorry—listen, Barak. President— President Obama. [beat] …yes? Look, I need a favor. You still owe me one. Put it on my tab. Listen, this is importsnt! -_- I think I control my neighbors. Yikes. For real. I think they move based on when I move. Seems like it. You're right! It seems like it. I was agreeing with you. BROH. They got planted baby bell cheeses! THEYGOTPLANTBASEDBABYBELLCHEESES I kinda wanna see if Dillon Francis is a dad yet . I'm tryna see like a tiny version of this. Of what. Don't change a thing. I would also like tiny versions of this, This, And this— Please. Ok. And this. Are you sure!? Yes. JACK BLACK don't you ever do that to me AGAIN! What! I didn't do anything to you! What? No! You didn't? Why not? What. What the Fox News! Do you have like an exclusive contract with Fallon, or something? No, that's NBC. I really can't talk about it right now, Jack. Hey hey-/ since when are we on a first name basis? You know what— you're right— I know it, Excuse me, Mr. Black— I ought to be going. going where?! You have to get me back to my original dimension! You don't have an original dimension! What! Why not, The fourth wall has been broken, very broken. And 2. What's the second point? You shouldn't have taken that acid. What acid?! Which time?! Exactly! Goddammit! don't look at me, God made this playlist. “Jew stuff” Ever since I inducted Jack black and Alex Baldwin into the impenatrable ten Ah—ahem Nobody “inducted us” There's no induction. We were just always —always. Here. HOOGLI BOOGLI. Huh. DID YOU JACK MY RIMS? Nah man, wasn't me. [the rims are sloppily hidden under a potato sack “hidden” obviously in the corner. Hehe. NIGGLY NIGGA spots his rims in the corner. Musical torture. HOOGLI, THESE ARE MY RIMS. I don't know how those got there, man, shiet! Nigga! What! HOOGLI BOOGLI YOU BLACK ASS NIGGA DONT—COME AROUND MY HOUSE NO MORE LOL HOW DO NIGGLY NIGGA AND HOOGLI BOOGLI SHARE A HOOD? Cause it beez like that sometimes. God damn— He's so fine to me! God damn, He ages like wine! Goddamn Goddamn! I turn the time; Damn, Goddamn— Let's turn back time {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

twak'd (end of days) Collection I- 'better off dead.' Track 05. - 'twak'd' (end of days) Prod. by Blū Tha Gürū Did I already post this? idkz. oh well. Here it is. and some enter the multiverse, or whatever I thought it was L E G E N D S IT IS WHAT IT IS. {Enter The Multiverse} If you'll excuse me, I actually have to get going. Where are you going? I don't know: I just— JOHNNY DEPP must be going. Have to. he does not know, however, that he is stuck in a movie—which has no definitive ending. Well actually, This movie has like— 30 alternative endings Wait, 30 alternative endings? 30-40 Woah. That's nuts. Which makes it even cooler. If you ever blow my mind again like that, I'll actually kill you. I've been watching a lot of LMN Lifetime movie network—Why?! Because this shit is hilarious! Isn't it! YO. This shit is PIZZA It IS. What? Why is it pizza? Cause it's not pizza If it's not CHEEZY. ahaha. While traditional Thai pineapple fried rice has tomatoes within the vegetable medley, I opted instead for this recipe to use a sauced red pepper tomato sauce glaze to top the dish, for a new school American twist and flare. ½ cup chopped mushrooms ½ cup scallions ¼ cup white onion ½ cup red onion ¼ cup Pasilla pepper ½ cup red pepper cup white onions ½ cup yellow pepper ¾ cup green pepper 1 cup fresh basil 1 cup fresh pineapple UmBRIDGE. What. NO, Um— A bridge appears out of nowhere. lol why do you have no hair? I dunno; mate. Wizards. Don't go there— You're fired. I beg your pardon Please, don't beg. You are officially decommissioned as headmaster! This is the minister of magic Is that what it was. I guess, I don't know; I'm just along for the STEWIE. WHAT MA, WHAT. TEN AND TWO!! You know what, let me drive. Oh, finally—stewie has his own aplorable Boston accent, (hybrid proper English, of course. ) What does that even sound like Strange. The lady working at Trader Joe's was so beautiful to me, I had to tell her. I loved her Locs, I loved her glasses I loved her accent. So I just had to ask where she's from— I do that sometimes. If I really love someone's accent, I have to ask where their from to try to get there one day; So I asked her, “Where are you from?” And she says “Haiti,” And I was like “Wow, cool” And then I thought about it for a second, And I asked “Do you ever miss home” And she just laughed I was like “Oh, guess not” Some context I had been homesick lately, But I grew up in Alaska And I consider myself from California, Having spent most of my adult life there So coming to New York has been like Living on the other side of the world; And sometimes that sucks. But sometimes, and I have realized that wherever you're from, To get to New York is sometimes a blessing. She didn't even say yes or no, She just laughed. Now I'm worried about Haiti. I was worried about it before; But now I'm like; “Do you miss home?” She's like “Hahaha” I'm like “Oh damn.” I count my blessings. So JOHNNY DEPP just like excuses himself, wanders out into the street, and then—? Yeah. And then what? I don't know yet, I'm kind of busy these days. “BUSY?!” BUSY DOING WHAT?! Beep boop. Eee—ooh. Beep—boop—boop. Yah-yah-yah— APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE I'll show you all my scars, huh This one, she look like the reaper That's my girl, You bet she a keeper Ya'll sleepin on us What Yeah What Yeah What You sleeping on us I been in this b'niss APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. It's not a bad song. Is it a song? Is it? idk I just like balls in my face, is all. ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. [A Classic red dodgeball beams Who is it? WILL FERREL Is that how you spell it? Why will Ferrel? Cause I Want it TO MAKE ME LAUGH. HOW. JUST DO IT. Oh. I get it: So my pain is funny to you? [FINE, IT'S SOMEONE ELSE] Oh shit, that guy did look just like Will Ferrel, but OLD. He's old now, ain't he? Wasn't he always? [FINE] CUT. I QUIT. CUT TO: You and I, sir, have a longstanding arrangement. Would it be more comfortable to–sit? Yikes. (Whatever, we'll work on it.) [The Festiva– {Enter The Multiverse} I need a toothbrush to scrub my brain. I'm The lilly of the valley In the Belly of the beast I been swallowed by a whale I'm a whole damn story Woah I am the Lilly of the the valley I am the rider of the horse I am seeker of truth Writer of lines Sayer of lies (I might say a lie; But I just won't tell it) What is your deal with the devil. She knows I have a deal with ‘em. Well, the truth is— I have to turn ya! He's a good old country boy— From the simple south— A simple soul And they all believed him, word for word “I's born in New York” —he sounded assured. Gone, now, boy Go crack dat corn. Gone down south Go crack dat corn Gone, ol boy Go crack dat corn m —got no soul? Go crack dat corn. Aaaaghhh. I have a headache. why the fuck are you freaking out?! Because I don't know what I wrote. I must admit, There are things Where there should be no things There are springs Where there should be no springs There are strings Where there should be no strings And imm quite sure With no rules enforced —it's just a static cling Sort of thing OWW, my EYES. Nobody should have this much power. Nobody does. I don't get it. (I still don't understand why this happened.) He must have perfect genetics. Or something. THIS FOOL IS FIXING ME UP TO DIE!!!!! I AM THECRISCO QUEEN DIRTY NOT CLEAN WHAT CAN I SAY I LIKE GREASE MONEY EVERYDAY BANKROLL INCREASE DEEP FRY HIGH SUNNI BLŪ Yo VO. Ok— so sometimes things go shitty. Like, mad shitty. YOOOOO. My measurements are 34C, 24 waist, and 55 in height. I couldn't understand why a girl this perfect should have to be selling sex at all, But I supposed nowadays, all women were prostitutes in some sort of way. This one's 22 years old and 96 pounds Men are sick fucking creatures. Whose fucking child is this?! COME GET YOUR DAUGHTER. Although, you know—I get it. My mom bought a Mercedes in cash And I'm still in educational debt. I just now today realized. That could have been a college fund. But she wanted a Mercedes. It's okay that I'm a bit fucked up in the head. Something went terribly wrong. All and all, Myself and this perfect girl, Cost around the same For an entire night— But hey, I think she's low balling herself On the 24 hour special. That's an entire day of my time, That's at least 10K. ‍♀️ She has a perfect body and two eyes that are different colors, But I'm a literary genius. You don't need words to soothe your boner thiugh, Or show off at a black tie function, do you? A stroll on the red carpet, Or some opulent fucking 5-star charade. How much does she cost, I wonder? She says, “I also accept bitcoin, etherum, gold and silver.” On God, These fake lip hoes is robbin' niggas. Men are sick creatures though. “Here's my gold watch” Fucking gross. I cruise escort sites for entertainment, Having learned my value as a woman isn't the visual, Visceral thing men are usually looking for— No judgement, Because I've realized that if I too had a perfect body. I myself would be living in some kind of oppulent, prostitution fuck-hole, With everybody else in my generation, That didn't get married— And then, probably divorced. I realized a long time ago that this was the reason my mother Always hated my body more than I ever could have— which is fine, Because eventually I inherited this hatred. I could have eventually grown out of it— But she couldn't see that. I was a “nasty fat heifer” On her worst days, And now, Even on my best days— I still am. Nevermind that eventually my ex husband would Think of my hair as nappy, or That I actually did end up kind of sort of growing out of being A fat, nasty heifer— Kind of. But the fact that it's taken me the entirety of my life to realize my worth as a woman Would always be defined by that Of what a man idealized as “Worthy” Well, That in itself Gives me the dismissive ability To have days where I do nothing, But sit back, Cruising escort sites and shipping on Amazon for yoga mats, Wanting the experience of the world Without really being beautiful enough for it And waiting to fade Into the next lifetime. [All the black girls cost less Because they have to.] Men are sick creatures. They'll take a butterface, Ugly ass white girl Over a pretty one that's dark skinned And these are just The facts of life (So far.) Piper of Phoenix Valiant, bold, and brazen This woman, I love— In the wings for fortune, To honor, I love With wisdom, And aged like fine wine We all become I want body like Sofia But never met the real Rebecca. Yo. YO. Let's spend $60 o lip gloss. Okay. Hey. Ways crackin. I just bought a $12,000 mattress. Let's take a nap in it. Hey girl. Heeeeeeey. This yoga mat cost $200. That's fresh. You think THATS RICH?! Seems pretty rich to me. You can't get any of this stuff on Amazon. That's fucking psycho. These loafers? Uh uh. $2,000. For WAT. (Whispers) Eeel skiiiin. Gross! I'm HUNGRY Got grits, Ain't got no sugar. No butter— —ain't hurt nobody. Poverty is a whole damn show. Close the door On a broke ass bitch. Poverty is a whole damn story. Got no bucks for the Whole Foods market Shopping carts full of old ass garbage No reward For a woke ass artist I'm HUNGRY. I killed myself 3 times his morning. POOR SNOOP is still a whole ass G BET ON IT HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL RAP COVER -$15 BROKE WAYNE AINT HAVING IT CHRIS ROCK THE METRO TRAIN DRIVER is NOT FUNNY— (He's still a ladies man though.) LCD SYSTEM HOOGLI BOOGLI is the reason they fear us. HOOGLI BOOGLI IS THE BLACKEST BLACK THAT EVER BLACKED. UNLIKE NIGGLY NIGGA—he is NOT FRIENDLY. He is the stuff of nightmares. A world gone wrong. Two bloodshot eyes on a black backdrop Dark black. I sold not state at screen They go uno in te night This shit doesn't make much sense, Does it? Doesn't Matter Antimatter. Ow. How far is antimatter from antithesis? Is this just a Christmas present Never said it, same diff Something something something SHUT UP. So to re-iterate— Uh huh. Niggly Nigga is friendly… Yeah, he's just— —he just looks like that. AH. What happened. Don't stand behind me like that, my nigga. Srry. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. Okay, that'll work. #timetravelingdjs

twak'd (end of days) Collection I- 'better off dead.' Track 05. - 'twak'd' (end of days) Prod. by Blū Tha Gürū Did I already post this? idkz. oh well. Here it is. and some enter the multiverse, or whatever I thought it was L E G E N D S IT IS WHAT IT IS. {Enter The Multiverse} If you'll excuse me, I actually have to get going. Where are you going? I don't know: I just— JOHNNY DEPP must be going. Have to. he does not know, however, that he is stuck in a movie—which has no definitive ending. Well actually, This movie has like— 30 alternative endings Wait, 30 alternative endings? 30-40 Woah. That's nuts. Which makes it even cooler. If you ever blow my mind again like that, I'll actually kill you. I've been watching a lot of LMN Lifetime movie network—Why?! Because this shit is hilarious! Isn't it! YO. This shit is PIZZA It IS. What? Why is it pizza? Cause it's not pizza If it's not CHEEZY. ahaha. While traditional Thai pineapple fried rice has tomatoes within the vegetable medley, I opted instead for this recipe to use a sauced red pepper tomato sauce glaze to top the dish, for a new school American twist and flare. ½ cup chopped mushrooms ½ cup scallions ¼ cup white onion ½ cup red onion ¼ cup Pasilla pepper ½ cup red pepper cup white onions ½ cup yellow pepper ¾ cup green pepper 1 cup fresh basil 1 cup fresh pineapple UmBRIDGE. What. NO, Um— A bridge appears out of nowhere. lol why do you have no hair? I dunno; mate. Wizards. Don't go there— You're fired. I beg your pardon Please, don't beg. You are officially decommissioned as headmaster! This is the minister of magic Is that what it was. I guess, I don't know; I'm just along for the STEWIE. WHAT MA, WHAT. TEN AND TWO!! You know what, let me drive. Oh, finally—stewie has his own aplorable Boston accent, (hybrid proper English, of course. ) What does that even sound like Strange. The lady working at Trader Joe's was so beautiful to me, I had to tell her. I loved her Locs, I loved her glasses I loved her accent. So I just had to ask where she's from— I do that sometimes. If I really love someone's accent, I have to ask where their from to try to get there one day; So I asked her, “Where are you from?” And she says “Haiti,” And I was like “Wow, cool” And then I thought about it for a second, And I asked “Do you ever miss home” And she just laughed I was like “Oh, guess not” Some context I had been homesick lately, But I grew up in Alaska And I consider myself from California, Having spent most of my adult life there So coming to New York has been like Living on the other side of the world; And sometimes that sucks. But sometimes, and I have realized that wherever you're from, To get to New York is sometimes a blessing. She didn't even say yes or no, She just laughed. Now I'm worried about Haiti. I was worried about it before; But now I'm like; “Do you miss home?” She's like “Hahaha” I'm like “Oh damn.” I count my blessings. So JOHNNY DEPP just like excuses himself, wanders out into the street, and then—? Yeah. And then what? I don't know yet, I'm kind of busy these days. “BUSY?!” BUSY DOING WHAT?! Beep boop. Eee—ooh. Beep—boop—boop. Yah-yah-yah— APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE I'll show you all my scars, huh This one, she look like the reaper That's my girl, You bet she a keeper Ya'll sleepin on us What Yeah What Yeah What You sleeping on us I been in this b'niss APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. It's not a bad song. Is it a song? Is it? idk I just like balls in my face, is all. ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. [A Classic red dodgeball beams Who is it? WILL FERREL Is that how you spell it? Why will Ferrel? Cause I Want it TO MAKE ME LAUGH. HOW. JUST DO IT. Oh. I get it: So my pain is funny to you? [FINE, IT'S SOMEONE ELSE] Oh shit, that guy did look just like Will Ferrel, but OLD. He's old now, ain't he? Wasn't he always? [FINE] CUT. I QUIT. CUT TO: You and I, sir, have a longstanding arrangement. Would it be more comfortable to–sit? Yikes. (Whatever, we'll work on it.) [The Festiva– {Enter The Multiverse} I need a toothbrush to scrub my brain. I'm The lilly of the valley In the Belly of the beast I been swallowed by a whale I'm a whole damn story Woah I am the Lilly of the the valley I am the rider of the horse I am seeker of truth Writer of lines Sayer of lies (I might say a lie; But I just won't tell it) What is your deal with the devil. She knows I have a deal with ‘em. Well, the truth is— I have to turn ya! He's a good old country boy— From the simple south— A simple soul And they all believed him, word for word “I's born in New York” —he sounded assured. Gone, now, boy Go crack dat corn. Gone down south Go crack dat corn Gone, ol boy Go crack dat corn m —got no soul? Go crack dat corn. Aaaaghhh. I have a headache. why the fuck are you freaking out?! Because I don't know what I wrote. I must admit, There are things Where there should be no things There are springs Where there should be no springs There are strings Where there should be no strings And imm quite sure With no rules enforced —it's just a static cling Sort of thing OWW, my EYES. Nobody should have this much power. Nobody does. I don't get it. (I still don't understand why this happened.) He must have perfect genetics. Or something. THIS FOOL IS FIXING ME UP TO DIE!!!!! I AM THECRISCO QUEEN DIRTY NOT CLEAN WHAT CAN I SAY I LIKE GREASE MONEY EVERYDAY BANKROLL INCREASE DEEP FRY HIGH SUNNI BLŪ Yo VO. Ok— so sometimes things go shitty. Like, mad shitty. YOOOOO. My measurements are 34C, 24 waist, and 55 in height. I couldn't understand why a girl this perfect should have to be selling sex at all, But I supposed nowadays, all women were prostitutes in some sort of way. This one's 22 years old and 96 pounds Men are sick fucking creatures. Whose fucking child is this?! COME GET YOUR DAUGHTER. Although, you know—I get it. My mom bought a Mercedes in cash And I'm still in educational debt. I just now today realized. That could have been a college fund. But she wanted a Mercedes. It's okay that I'm a bit fucked up in the head. Something went terribly wrong. All and all, Myself and this perfect girl, Cost around the same For an entire night— But hey, I think she's low balling herself On the 24 hour special. That's an entire day of my time, That's at least 10K. ‍♀️ She has a perfect body and two eyes that are different colors, But I'm a literary genius. You don't need words to soothe your boner thiugh, Or show off at a black tie function, do you? A stroll on the red carpet, Or some opulent fucking 5-star charade. How much does she cost, I wonder? She says, “I also accept bitcoin, etherum, gold and silver.” On God, These fake lip hoes is robbin' niggas. Men are sick creatures though. “Here's my gold watch” Fucking gross. I cruise escort sites for entertainment, Having learned my value as a woman isn't the visual, Visceral thing men are usually looking for— No judgement, Because I've realized that if I too had a perfect body. I myself would be living in some kind of oppulent, prostitution fuck-hole, With everybody else in my generation, That didn't get married— And then, probably divorced. I realized a long time ago that this was the reason my mother Always hated my body more than I ever could have— which is fine, Because eventually I inherited this hatred. I could have eventually grown out of it— But she couldn't see that. I was a “nasty fat heifer” On her worst days, And now, Even on my best days— I still am. Nevermind that eventually my ex husband would Think of my hair as nappy, or That I actually did end up kind of sort of growing out of being A fat, nasty heifer— Kind of. But the fact that it's taken me the entirety of my life to realize my worth as a woman Would always be defined by that Of what a man idealized as “Worthy” Well, That in itself Gives me the dismissive ability To have days where I do nothing, But sit back, Cruising escort sites and shipping on Amazon for yoga mats, Wanting the experience of the world Without really being beautiful enough for it And waiting to fade Into the next lifetime. [All the black girls cost less Because they have to.] Men are sick creatures. They'll take a butterface, Ugly ass white girl Over a pretty one that's dark skinned And these are just The facts of life (So far.) Piper of Phoenix Valiant, bold, and brazen This woman, I love— In the wings for fortune, To honor, I love With wisdom, And aged like fine wine We all become I want body like Sofia But never met the real Rebecca. Yo. YO. Let's spend $60 o lip gloss. Okay. Hey. Ways crackin. I just bought a $12,000 mattress. Let's take a nap in it. Hey girl. Heeeeeeey. This yoga mat cost $200. That's fresh. You think THATS RICH?! Seems pretty rich to me. You can't get any of this stuff on Amazon. That's fucking psycho. These loafers? Uh uh. $2,000. For WAT. (Whispers) Eeel skiiiin. Gross! I'm HUNGRY Got grits, Ain't got no sugar. No butter— —ain't hurt nobody. Poverty is a whole damn show. Close the door On a broke ass bitch. Poverty is a whole damn story. Got no bucks for the Whole Foods market Shopping carts full of old ass garbage No reward For a woke ass artist I'm HUNGRY. I killed myself 3 times his morning. POOR SNOOP is still a whole ass G BET ON IT HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL RAP COVER -$15 BROKE WAYNE AINT HAVING IT CHRIS ROCK THE METRO TRAIN DRIVER is NOT FUNNY— (He's still a ladies man though.) LCD SYSTEM HOOGLI BOOGLI is the reason they fear us. HOOGLI BOOGLI IS THE BLACKEST BLACK THAT EVER BLACKED. UNLIKE NIGGLY NIGGA—he is NOT FRIENDLY. He is the stuff of nightmares. A world gone wrong. Two bloodshot eyes on a black backdrop Dark black. I sold not state at screen They go uno in te night This shit doesn't make much sense, Does it? Doesn't Matter Antimatter. Ow. How far is antimatter from antithesis? Is this just a Christmas present Never said it, same diff Something something something SHUT UP. So to re-iterate— Uh huh. Niggly Nigga is friendly… Yeah, he's just— —he just looks like that. AH. What happened. Don't stand behind me like that, my nigga. Srry. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. Okay, that'll work. #timetravelingdjs

twak'd (end of days) Collection I- 'better off dead.' Track 05. - 'twak'd' (end of days) Prod. by Blū Tha Gürū Did I already post this? idkz. oh well. Here it is. and some enter the multiverse, or whatever I thought it was L E G E N D S IT IS WHAT IT IS. {Enter The Multiverse} If you'll excuse me, I actually have to get going. Where are you going? I don't know: I just— JOHNNY DEPP must be going. Have to. he does not know, however, that he is stuck in a movie—which has no definitive ending. Well actually, This movie has like— 30 alternative endings Wait, 30 alternative endings? 30-40 Woah. That's nuts. Which makes it even cooler. If you ever blow my mind again like that, I'll actually kill you. I've been watching a lot of LMN Lifetime movie network—Why?! Because this shit is hilarious! Isn't it! YO. This shit is PIZZA It IS. What? Why is it pizza? Cause it's not pizza If it's not CHEEZY. ahaha. While traditional Thai pineapple fried rice has tomatoes within the vegetable medley, I opted instead for this recipe to use a sauced red pepper tomato sauce glaze to top the dish, for a new school American twist and flare. ½ cup chopped mushrooms ½ cup scallions ¼ cup white onion ½ cup red onion ¼ cup Pasilla pepper ½ cup red pepper cup white onions ½ cup yellow pepper ¾ cup green pepper 1 cup fresh basil 1 cup fresh pineapple UmBRIDGE. What. NO, Um— A bridge appears out of nowhere. lol why do you have no hair? I dunno; mate. Wizards. Don't go there— You're fired. I beg your pardon Please, don't beg. You are officially decommissioned as headmaster! This is the minister of magic Is that what it was. I guess, I don't know; I'm just along for the STEWIE. WHAT MA, WHAT. TEN AND TWO!! You know what, let me drive. Oh, finally—stewie has his own aplorable Boston accent, (hybrid proper English, of course. ) What does that even sound like Strange. The lady working at Trader Joe's was so beautiful to me, I had to tell her. I loved her Locs, I loved her glasses I loved her accent. So I just had to ask where she's from— I do that sometimes. If I really love someone's accent, I have to ask where their from to try to get there one day; So I asked her, “Where are you from?” And she says “Haiti,” And I was like “Wow, cool” And then I thought about it for a second, And I asked “Do you ever miss home” And she just laughed I was like “Oh, guess not” Some context I had been homesick lately, But I grew up in Alaska And I consider myself from California, Having spent most of my adult life there So coming to New York has been like Living on the other side of the world; And sometimes that sucks. But sometimes, and I have realized that wherever you're from, To get to New York is sometimes a blessing. She didn't even say yes or no, She just laughed. Now I'm worried about Haiti. I was worried about it before; But now I'm like; “Do you miss home?” She's like “Hahaha” I'm like “Oh damn.” I count my blessings. So JOHNNY DEPP just like excuses himself, wanders out into the street, and then—? Yeah. And then what? I don't know yet, I'm kind of busy these days. “BUSY?!” BUSY DOING WHAT?! Beep boop. Eee—ooh. Beep—boop—boop. Yah-yah-yah— APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE I'll show you all my scars, huh This one, she look like the reaper That's my girl, You bet she a keeper Ya'll sleepin on us What Yeah What Yeah What You sleeping on us I been in this b'niss APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE APPLESAURCE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE I LIKE BALLS IN MY FACE ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. It's not a bad song. Is it a song? Is it? idk I just like balls in my face, is all. ILIKEBALLSINMYFACE. [A Classic red dodgeball beams Who is it? WILL FERREL Is that how you spell it? Why will Ferrel? Cause I Want it TO MAKE ME LAUGH. HOW. JUST DO IT. Oh. I get it: So my pain is funny to you? [FINE, IT'S SOMEONE ELSE] Oh shit, that guy did look just like Will Ferrel, but OLD. He's old now, ain't he? Wasn't he always? [FINE] CUT. I QUIT. CUT TO: You and I, sir, have a longstanding arrangement. Would it be more comfortable to–sit? Yikes. (Whatever, we'll work on it.) [The Festiva– {Enter The Multiverse} I need a toothbrush to scrub my brain. I'm The lilly of the valley In the Belly of the beast I been swallowed by a whale I'm a whole damn story Woah I am the Lilly of the the valley I am the rider of the horse I am seeker of truth Writer of lines Sayer of lies (I might say a lie; But I just won't tell it) What is your deal with the devil. She knows I have a deal with ‘em. Well, the truth is— I have to turn ya! He's a good old country boy— From the simple south— A simple soul And they all believed him, word for word “I's born in New York” —he sounded assured. Gone, now, boy Go crack dat corn. Gone down south Go crack dat corn Gone, ol boy Go crack dat corn m —got no soul? Go crack dat corn. Aaaaghhh. I have a headache. why the fuck are you freaking out?! Because I don't know what I wrote. I must admit, There are things Where there should be no things There are springs Where there should be no springs There are strings Where there should be no strings And imm quite sure With no rules enforced —it's just a static cling Sort of thing OWW, my EYES. Nobody should have this much power. Nobody does. I don't get it. (I still don't understand why this happened.) He must have perfect genetics. Or something. THIS FOOL IS FIXING ME UP TO DIE!!!!! I AM THECRISCO QUEEN DIRTY NOT CLEAN WHAT CAN I SAY I LIKE GREASE MONEY EVERYDAY BANKROLL INCREASE DEEP FRY HIGH SUNNI BLŪ Yo VO. Ok— so sometimes things go shitty. Like, mad shitty. YOOOOO. My measurements are 34C, 24 waist, and 55 in height. I couldn't understand why a girl this perfect should have to be selling sex at all, But I supposed nowadays, all women were prostitutes in some sort of way. This one's 22 years old and 96 pounds Men are sick fucking creatures. Whose fucking child is this?! COME GET YOUR DAUGHTER. Although, you know—I get it. My mom bought a Mercedes in cash And I'm still in educational debt. I just now today realized. That could have been a college fund. But she wanted a Mercedes. It's okay that I'm a bit fucked up in the head. Something went terribly wrong. All and all, Myself and this perfect girl, Cost around the same For an entire night— But hey, I think she's low balling herself On the 24 hour special. That's an entire day of my time, That's at least 10K. ‍♀️ She has a perfect body and two eyes that are different colors, But I'm a literary genius. You don't need words to soothe your boner thiugh, Or show off at a black tie function, do you? A stroll on the red carpet, Or some opulent fucking 5-star charade. How much does she cost, I wonder? She says, “I also accept bitcoin, etherum, gold and silver.” On God, These fake lip hoes is robbin' niggas. Men are sick creatures though. “Here's my gold watch” Fucking gross. I cruise escort sites for entertainment, Having learned my value as a woman isn't the visual, Visceral thing men are usually looking for— No judgement, Because I've realized that if I too had a perfect body. I myself would be living in some kind of oppulent, prostitution fuck-hole, With everybody else in my generation, That didn't get married— And then, probably divorced. I realized a long time ago that this was the reason my mother Always hated my body more than I ever could have— which is fine, Because eventually I inherited this hatred. I could have eventually grown out of it— But she couldn't see that. I was a “nasty fat heifer” On her worst days, And now, Even on my best days— I still am. Nevermind that eventually my ex husband would Think of my hair as nappy, or That I actually did end up kind of sort of growing out of being A fat, nasty heifer— Kind of. But the fact that it's taken me the entirety of my life to realize my worth as a woman Would always be defined by that Of what a man idealized as “Worthy” Well, That in itself Gives me the dismissive ability To have days where I do nothing, But sit back, Cruising escort sites and shipping on Amazon for yoga mats, Wanting the experience of the world Without really being beautiful enough for it And waiting to fade Into the next lifetime. [All the black girls cost less Because they have to.] Men are sick creatures. They'll take a butterface, Ugly ass white girl Over a pretty one that's dark skinned And these are just The facts of life (So far.) Piper of Phoenix Valiant, bold, and brazen This woman, I love— In the wings for fortune, To honor, I love With wisdom, And aged like fine wine We all become I want body like Sofia But never met the real Rebecca. Yo. YO. Let's spend $60 o lip gloss. Okay. Hey. Ways crackin. I just bought a $12,000 mattress. Let's take a nap in it. Hey girl. Heeeeeeey. This yoga mat cost $200. That's fresh. You think THATS RICH?! Seems pretty rich to me. You can't get any of this stuff on Amazon. That's fucking psycho. These loafers? Uh uh. $2,000. For WAT. (Whispers) Eeel skiiiin. Gross! I'm HUNGRY Got grits, Ain't got no sugar. No butter— —ain't hurt nobody. Poverty is a whole damn show. Close the door On a broke ass bitch. Poverty is a whole damn story. Got no bucks for the Whole Foods market Shopping carts full of old ass garbage No reward For a woke ass artist I'm HUNGRY. I killed myself 3 times his morning. POOR SNOOP is still a whole ass G BET ON IT HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL RAP COVER -$15 BROKE WAYNE AINT HAVING IT CHRIS ROCK THE METRO TRAIN DRIVER is NOT FUNNY— (He's still a ladies man though.) LCD SYSTEM HOOGLI BOOGLI is the reason they fear us. HOOGLI BOOGLI IS THE BLACKEST BLACK THAT EVER BLACKED. UNLIKE NIGGLY NIGGA—he is NOT FRIENDLY. He is the stuff of nightmares. A world gone wrong. Two bloodshot eyes on a black backdrop Dark black. I sold not state at screen They go uno in te night This shit doesn't make much sense, Does it? Doesn't Matter Antimatter. Ow. How far is antimatter from antithesis? Is this just a Christmas present Never said it, same diff Something something something SHUT UP. So to re-iterate— Uh huh. Niggly Nigga is friendly… Yeah, he's just— —he just looks like that. AH. What happened. Don't stand behind me like that, my nigga. Srry. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. Okay, that'll work. #timetravelingdjs

Special guest, David Ferrel, writer for Playbook Sports, stops by to give all the details about newest King, Orlando Robinson. David talks about Orlando Robinson's tenure with the Miami Heat and all of the Heat's off season moves. Daily and David also discuss the Heat's Summer League Championship, the expectations of Jaime Freaking Jaquez, the unsung greatness of Bam Adebayo, what to expect from the Heat next season, and more. Follow Daily on X/Twitter: @DailySabonis *ad music via migfus20 on freesound.org Follow David on X/Twitter: @dferrel15 Rate, Review & Subscribe to The SportsEthos Sacramento Kings Podcast on iTunes and stay linked to @EthosKings on Twitter for podcast episodes, Kings news, and more! PropUp on ThriveFantasy this NBA season! Use code ETHOS at signup for a 100% deposit match bonus and win big cash by simply flexing DFS prop knowledge on the biggest names on the board! Manscaped is BACK, baby! Just like the NBA! Use coupon code HOOPBALL20 to get 20% off and free shipping on your purchase at Manscaped.com! Want more codes? We got 'em! ExpressVPN is offering 3 BONUS months on every 12-month membership purchase by using this special link: https://www.expressvpn.com/hoopball

It's YOUR time to #EdUp In this episode, #930, President Series #288, & brought to YOU by the InsightsEDU 2025 conference YOUR guest is ⁠Kate Ferrel, President, Nicolet College YOUR host is ⁠Dr. Laurie Shanderson⁠, Host, ⁠EdUp Accreditation Insights⁠ How is Kate implementing her leadership philosophy of empathy, transparency, & servant leadership at Nicolet College? What innovative approaches is Nicolet College taking to strategic planning & accreditation preparation? How is the college fostering diversity, equity, & inclusion through initiatives like the Indigenous Advisory Council & open & inclusive academics? What steps is Nicolet College taking to support students impacted by the pandemic & create engaging learning experiences both on-campus & online? How does Kate use humor & optimism in her leadership, especially when addressing serious challenges in higher education? What unique opportunities does Nicolet College's natural setting provide for student learning & experiences? Listen in to #EdUp! If YOU want exclusive early access to ad-free episodes, extended episodes, bonus episodes, original content, invites to special events, all while helping to sustain EdUp, BECOME A SUBSCRIBER TODAY! Thank YOU so much for tuning in. Join us on the next episode for YOUR time to EdUp! Connect with YOUR EdUp Team - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Elvin Freytes⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ & ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Dr. Joe Sallustio⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ● Join YOUR EdUp community at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠The EdUp Experience⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠! We make education YOUR business!

‘…is that a threat?' ‘Hm…' If it was, it was at least a good one— I was scared, at first, upon seeing what I had thought to be perhaps a package robbery—but was actually just a slit through the package—a clean slice, more specifically, through the bubble wrapped [Redacted] package, however, its contents still inside; The package had been left underneath another—which didn't belong to me, and though I had been cornered by security more than once at the [Redacted] market, for putting my nutritional needs above that of my morality—or rather, thought my morlity to exclude guilt from the nessecities, especially as I often pondered upon the elite had kept the lower classes in a devolved state by controlling the price of wellness, so much so that it had become impractical for the common being. I had never even thought to swipe someone else's mail—a personal foul, and at least in turn in that matter to all respect with karma, had never had any packages stolen, either—not that I had lived indoors long enough to have warranted that I was safe from what sometimes seemed like the non-human animals, especially of New York City, who crawled about the lower realms littering and taking up precious time, space, and energy—the almost less-than-common man, but still, actually and unfortunately—common, especially in New York. The Sage sticks and palo santo I had ordered were still intact, entirely— to my surprise, and I wondered what else my package might have included, without remembering such. I had become enfuriated with [Redacted], after realizing that there had been hidden charges and unrecognizable fees, on my credit card, of all the places—the Capital One credit card, with sky high interest rates and robotic customer service drones—who I mostly would hate talking to— and it seemed as though the [Redacted] algorithm had become just as predatory as the rest of them—as uncivilized as the trash-dropping, coughing subhumans that plagued the post-pandemic world, if there was such a thing. The overcrowded mess and overall pollution of the city at whole at best made it still acceptable to wear masks in public, to which I took full advantage of doing, as needed—which was as often as possible, actually, if not to hide the curiosities, and of course, the objections to whatever it would be on the train that sparked distaste—worst yet, I might even smile, and reveal my gap-tooth, only acceptable on Hurley models and Madonna, of course—either of whom I wished I was. It was 3:16 AM, and a long lost song found its way into my head as I fettered the words into the document, multitasking a “modest” breakfast as I mulled over the day, most of which I had spent attempting peace and solitude, neither of which actually even seemed attainable in my 3rd floor “office”, being so careful not to consider anything home or a comfort, for the fear that whatever Death curse someone had thought to m destroy me with once would extend into all the years and all the realms of my presence— it was true, as I explained to my aunt, that the people around me had within the last few years turned into demonic and vampiric advocates of what seemed to be the devil itself, were I even holy enough to be considered sacred in such a way that the devil may be chasing me—and I was, in some ways, but not in others—my ability to aggrandize my judgements and flex my morality where needed, but less when wanted as it stood true that I never actually enjoyed immorality—I hated living in a world where one would be made to steal, and made to lie, in order to survive. But that, for 30 years is where I had lived; in, for the most part, an evil world, ruled by man, as he denied and tortured all things that would be thought to be God—in his thirst for whatever it was that had waged a world of war. It seemed as though someone were sending a message, and it had been years since I had felt safe or comfortable anywhere, anyway—so I thought it best not to care, knowing that all in all, that the intentional hurt and harm done to me by any man, or any entity otherwise, would prove to l invoke the karmic justice law unto itself; that whatever pain I experienced would be amplified by its giver, and reflected back—that anyone who intended to hurt or kill me—would only hurt or kill themselves in doing so. At the very least, I was inspired to continue writing the script which I had drifted from entirely—its contents and its driver too mad to be palpable, however—as sometimes this kind of magic did occur in flashes at random, with vivid visions as if I were watching—or even living inside of the scene itself, spoke volumes that it should—or would, whether I wanted it or not, be written eventually. ‘Man, fuck Jimmy Fallon.' I knew nothing of the man at all besides his name and occupation, and that something had plastered him permanently into my mind with some kind of irreparable cement I could not seem to break lose or free from—and it was going to stay that way. The entirety of the festival project and all I had been prompted to have written had become a massive headache. I have a massive headache. UGH. Perhaps it was more multidimensionally attributed to the fact that I had been fawning over affordable razorblazes—I had been almost salivating at the thought of bleeding from my wrists—a constant pressure from the lack of things I wanted and needed piling up at my doorstep, my overdue bills, and the harrowing and what seemed like *manacle. Hm. A maniacle attack on my sanity, not actually practitioned by my abuser, but probably more likely the government, masquerading as such to plot and plan around various secret expirimentation, which would of course within the century become common knowledge, but as for such time we're simply conspiracies, perhaps to hide the shameful loss which was the war being fought with technology—which the dumbing down and brainwashing of millions had left us at an extreme risk, and those were were not at risk, with extreme bias against that which they had no ability or interest to understand. Unremarkably so, I was still astonished that something did indeed seem to have happened—something that was not in my head at all, but rather, very much outside of it—and it was beginning to occur to me that perhaps others had gained an interest in what indeed seemed to be attacking me, for years, by then, with fear, humiliation, and detriment—to which I could only ever think to fight with white magic; there was a controlled chaos to what seemed like my being at a wits end, which I was, but also wasn't—for the most part, at least in public, I could take even the most outrageous offenses poignantly and tactfully, however sometimes realizing that—in Keisha having left her sunglasses behind, she had also left with them a little bit of Harlem— “Move.” The mindless drone controlled robots often stepped directly into my path, as if being driven by some force which was meant to annoy or some other way terrorize me—however, I had grown accustomed to new York's overall rudeness, and had become almost socially inept..speaking of Just—socially unacceptable. What is this?! Gross. What is this?! Papaya juice. Is this a fucking—?! No it's a v8 My G-Wagon! Nice. Got it painted. What color even is that? It's like— mauve. MOVE. FUCKING-A. Jesus Christ. One time, The white devil appeared as a fucked up Edie Falco// And I was so fed up-to-here With The Bullshit, That I didn't even care what happened if I — MOVE OUT OF MY WAY: OR WHAT?! Damn, Mrs. Soprano, you look rough. Are you sure that's not just JACKIE. WHAT. That's the way Uh huh Uh huh I like it Uh huh Uh huh Schools out— Party with my friends! school's out! I'm a genie in a bottle, You gotta rub me the right way! I been too strong, for too long And I can't be without you baby! Is that all of them? Probably not: So mix, then, Probably not. Well Why not?! Because My Serato's been acting horrible. Tommy looked what I would learn to be like a be exact replica of 1988 Tom Cruise. Which reminds me… The 1987 Tom Cruise* is murdered by Supacree's jealous stalker, in a fit of rage, which spirals all known aliases and timelines into a terrible and chaotic nightmare, as Wait, what. I'm just being honest, I don't know how to write this. Here, let me help. YO. wtf. Should have had a V8! SPLASH, BITCH. WHERE's MY SHIIT, JIMMY? It's gone, I broke it. You what. It's missing; I broke it. What do you mean. AHAHA. Oh, I see what you mean, now. Yeah, that guy is different. [The amethyst shatters.] NOH. Woaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa_l GOLD. IT IS GOLDEN. THE ORB. What. The orb. It has chosen you. Uh. Oka. Who the fuck are these creatures—?! “Creetures” I love them. They are darling They are cute. Man, fuck with your bullshit—. —Stay in fucking— Where ever that's at! This is “Queens” Well, it's disgusting. GET LOST. Get lost HOW. Everything's on a grid system! FUCK. I lost it, Damn. Dang. Well, wanna play again? Nah, that's it. What?! Come on. No, seriously. I'm done. Wait, what are you doing? *pulls out rifle* WOAH. WOAH. You should go now. What is that, It's a gun, obviously. What the fuck, man! A rifle, actually, more specifically— What—why—what are you gonna do with that thing? I'm gonna shoot myself: ano— YES. In the head— Don't do that; And you, if you don't get out— Wait! Right now. *aims* Okay! Ah shit, this is getting serious: It s seriously like dick-deep in pussy in here right now. Nay: Maybe we should GO. Hello. M— Maybe we should stay: What! I like her. Get off my property. This is-/ This is MINE. I own this: This one's Mine! Oh, this is what they mean by “ecstatic dance” Actually, my feet are just coldX… Wait, hold on. Before you go off on a tangent about— mm— What is that I don't know what that is. U don't know what it is Look, I wanted that to be Dillon's baby so bad— (So did he) HAHAHAHA. I will end u Oh, baby, there's only one way you could ever do that. Everyone Thrrr she is. She's back! Aaaaaannnyyyeaaaayy— Please explain to us what's happening in this movie. Which movie The Tom Cryise one, Cause there can only be one Tom Cruise one Because Tom cruise is Tom Cruise. Wait. What. TOM HANKS YOU FORGOT MY NAME BRIEfLY YES, but also— That's WHY, this happened. TOM CRUISE I TOLD YOU I TOLD YOU I TOLD YOU-/ You STUPID BITC— Look — I gotta — Oh wait, that still works. What?! You fucked that guy too?! NO. I just. This is a lot of space. Well yeah, we're like—astronauts. How did you get this all in your loft? MAJOR TOM. ALRIGHT. I GOT IT. AHAHAHSJSJHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO MORE ECID. YAYAYAY. Whrrereeeeeeeeeeeeeee Wherereere in my miiiiiiiiind. Fuck I gotta buy that album….again I know I bought it once. dang. Youre cute, I know, huh. Buy me this Ok. [Beyoncé is not yet back with the coffee.] Deja Vu, Beyoncé Uh oh, uh oh— Uh oh! OHNONO ^ Matumbo AIIIIIIIIGGGGGGGHHHHHHH. Crazy in love— also Beyonce? Destiny's ChildrenS HAHAHA OK. FUCK YOU, DILLON FRANCIS. DEADMAU5 IS A WAY BETTER CONTROLLER *HEAPING GASP* YOU—TAKE THAT BACK. I WOULDNT. I will END YOU. YOU CANNOT. Where the fuck is that lady from? Oh, there she is! Pity! Oh dear! She's NEGROID: Shh, tisk-tisk. [ANNE HATHAWAY dabbed tf out.] Come on Annie! Get up! [she is not getting up] THINK OF THE KIDSz *nope* UGH. WASTED. That sucks! We gotta get her back in that princess movie before everything dies and we all collapse! Which princess movie is it?! Idk! Fuck this bitch! She's like all the princesses! KEKE Palmart* Sure! KEKE PALMER will be playing the PRINCESS from princess and the frog Put the princess—IN—the frog! NO. PUT THE PRINCESS IN THE— AGHHHH. PUT DILLON FRANCIS, BACK IN THE OVEN. NO Ugh. He's so heavy! He's not gonna fit. He WILL fit: NO: SAY UNCLE. ASHEJEBEB SAY IT. AAAAANNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKHHHH [a giant Ankh falls from the sky] Yo. That cannot be a good sign. I think it's not. SUBTRONICS *rips bong* Hey! You made it! Way, way late: Nice! Yes. Why are you naked? I don't know. SOLEÏL. Fuck, man. Wizardrddd! What is this game?! I dunno, but I just keep playing it. This shit says. This does say. This shit says ballsacks. I don't get kids these days “Ballsacks” Is that like, a good thing? Depends who's saying NEY-WHINNY-NEY-WHINNY-NEEEE Horse: ok, I win: JOHNNY DEPP literally cannot speak. Because he is not intoxicated. At all. lol someone help him, seriously. Ok, keep going. All the DISNEY CHANNEL KIDS are WILD ‘N OUT Which is ironic because— NICK CANNON Yep, Oh look, it's me again… NICK CANNON Look, the Nickelodeon Cult— What; I mean— The Illuminati just called, They want their stuff back. What STUFF. SAY IT. NEVER THAT. SAY MY NAMEs PASSWORD FALLON, YOU FUCKING HACK. oh, I'm a ‘hack' now that's— “Haha” Who's laughing?! You should be crying right about now. I'm an actor. Very funny. Tears of a clown. Shut up: I am crying, on the inside. -_- Sit down, dipshit: Ooh, now I'm dip— *cocks pistol* Shit, I thought you couldn't— Oh no, this part of the series gets pretty— You're in deep fucking shit; [JIMMY FALLON sits calmly at his desk, he scoops some “sugar” into his coffee and stirs, seemingly emotionless.] CUT TO DANCE BREAK. I wanna hold 'em like they do in Texas, please CUT TO: Texas border patrol holding cell. DIPLO (In a stupid ass cowboy hat) m *jail door slams* AH, COME ON. Fold 'em, let 'em hit me, raise it, baby, stay with me (I love it) I thought it was… “A little gambling is fun when you're with me” (I love it.) Maybe it WAS. What year was that anyway? Idk. What year was any year before [Lyrics Genius] Flashback: The 2000's Rewind it again. What did she just say? Idk. What did he say? Damn. Fuck, I missed it. Love game intuition, play the cards with spades to start THE ACE OF SPAAAAAAADES. Okay. Fine. He wants to be Satan? He's Satan. Yo, that's— SATAN. [Skrillex is Satan] Yeah, but he's so fucking cute. Supacree, what are you doing? BRB, I'm gonna go fuck this lil ass [censored] Damn. Ok. S/he does not fuck around, that guy. Yeah, that guy. And after he's been hooked, I'll play the one that's on his heart I guess we'll just have to… wait till they play it on the radio again… / Wait till the next rave. fuck. MIXTAPES. GETCHUR MIXTAPES. La da da Dee da da duh duhhh La da da Dee da daaaah da duuuuuum La da da da de da La da da da Dee da Da da Dee da da da da dum Okay, Google, let's see what you got. I got—Reddit.. r/NameThatSong 5 yr. ago Surprentis Join Can't figure out this song. Looking for help hey you guys remember that song from back in the day that went "la da dee da da da daaaa, la da dee da da da daaaaa, ah la da dee daaa da la daa dee daaa daa daa dee daa da daaa da daaaaa" i feel like it was on night at the roxbury maybe im wrong.. uh, ok— wtf is “night at the Roxbury” …Google? GOOGLE Here: you'll like this. Oh shit, ‘98 … FINALLY. JESUS CHRIST. Holy shit, you were on SNL in 1998?! Yes. How the fuck old are you? Jesus Christ! JESUS CHRIST …not as old as me. [but everyone's still mad as fuck at Jesus for eating all of the pizza] wtf, man: Just— inhaled it. *gnarf* Actually, you know what: Just stay—celibate: Oh check it out. THIS lady only shows up if I— *squints* if you what: Nothing. Nothing. ANNNNNNNE. GET. UP. She's not gonna go. She's dead bro. I'm not dead! YES! oh! She's up! YES *barfs*! [instantly back asleep] —m— That's it We're fucked. Disney's gonna kill us. The Illuminati's gonna kill us! Disney is the Illuminati. Yeah, but like—for kids. THIS IS NOT FOR KIDS. THIS IS NOT FOR KIDS. KIDS AVERT YOUR EYES, CHILDREN! All sixteen pairs of them! wtf who has that many kids Eight fucking kids, bro. ^_- ok, I like her. Yeesss. Ya. Imm drunk. K. gargle! Nah! GARGLE, RIGHT NOW OR I'll wash your mouth with soap! [pulls gun] THATS NOT SOAP. MY GUN'S NAME IS “SOAP” Shit, why are there so many guns in this shit?! Because Skrillex is like, Cartel, or whatever. And like—the Bloods. ☠️ And the Crips, probably, also— Like I said, He is Satan. GET OVER HERE AND- SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOTTTT: I got nothin. What: I got// Zero scenes You got no scene, broh? No scenes. None? Zip. None? Zero. Woah. Hold up. will— uh— “powers” Ferrel—like an animal that won't shut up, or something? Will bite you—may be rabid— Feral? You mean? Sure; whatever.d Just, stop talking, How the fuck do you do the same movie— like— infinitely. Recap: every will ferret* Sure! EVERY WILL FERRELL MOVIE IS ULTIMATELY... They're all the same movie! GET UP, After waking up in a hungover/still intoxicated rage, Anne Hathaway causes a showdown worthy of historical proportions, which concludes with her legendary “yeet” of a mysterious object of extra planetary origin—this initiates round two of the party which never should have happened, and almost never ended. In another parallel cross dimension: Irl JIMMY FALLON and Ū are imaginary friends; rather, Ū is a figment of JIMMY FALLON's imagination and vice-versa—this scene pays homage to Wilfred; they share stories with one another as they pass the bong/blunt in a solid back-to-back rotation, making the tragic stories they are telling almost hilarious, but only because they are so generously stoned. —_— So wait, he like— *passes blunt* —Here, take this— —Yeah— *passes bong* —Just switch me— Yee. So he like—“yeeted” your baby? He Yeeted my baby. *blowing out, coughing* That's not supposed to happen. No, it is not. Here, switch me. *switch* *rips* *shaking head in stoniness* [beat] So like— *rips bong* —you're like, Ū, so— You're like… I'm like, everybody. Right? Yeah. Yeah! I'm Ū, dawg. That is a cool name. Is—a cool name *hits blunt* Here, switch me— *rips bong* Is—not—a cool power to have. I bet not, though. You would imagine I wouldn't, that's in—coughs—sane. It is insane: cover your mouth: Sorry. No you're not, So how are you not like— Like what? I'm Ū, there what// So how are you not like— Seth McFarle—uhh Seth McFarlen lol *e What Uh, I am. SETH MCFARLENE No you're not, I'm right here. *suddenly not stoned* What the FUCK man: Woah, Seth McFarlene. HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY OFFICE. I walked in. That's boss status. What the fuck! I locked it! You did not. I walked in—like right behind you guys You probably forgot… You—I forgot— He forgot to lock The Rock lol stop Walk it out, Now walk it out // Walk it like I talk it Talk it like I RUN BITCH RUN FLORIST, RUN!!! Lmfao. Ok. CUT BACK TO: You probably forgot, dude. Alright, Seth McFarlene. Just—*hits blunt* stop talking . Load another bowl Giggity! *passes blunt* You want this? No, I'm straight. Are you, though? What?! Yeah, I'm— I mean, l'm good on the— You know what? Fuck it, gimmie that. Yee. Sauce. [there is a knock at the door] Welp, I gotta go. [Jimmy Fallon is suddenly alone in his office, with a blunt in one hand and a bong in the other. The lights automatically shut off; the coffee maker brings brewing automatically—-three more knocks at the door.] *sighs* [explitive] CUT TO: That fucking rager Is it day?! Is it night?! We don't know! It's been months, probably Weeks, at best— But all we actually know about this time and place is that— The HATTER is here. For fucks SAKE. GIVE ME ANOTHER BEER, SOMEBODY. ANYBODY. lol Johnny Del*. Sure JOHNNY DEPP is drinking Duh *beer?! Uh huh That's all we have, man. *light beers I'MMM BUZZZZZED LIGHTYEAR BUUUUUUUZZXXXED LIGHTYEARR no, Tim Allen, not yet. Fuck, on that note Now I know why THERES A SNAKE IN MY BOOT yeah there is! Ok, ew Ok, gross Stop ew Stop Ew. Cut lil blonde Hot as Finneas O' Connell Possible homosexual, but god love him Cause I'm hungry Lookin for lunch Somebody as scrunches Pull up and crunches Cause my monster is Lookin to Humpty Dumpty Fuck, I forgot Rosie O'Donnal! I cant get no Satiafaftion— The Rolling Stones What's wrong, Saint Jimmy? Luscius? What is it. Precious would like to see you. Oh. The prince Lucius hasn't left his chamber in days—however, as his brother Percius has just returned from war, he quickly emerges from his resting place, an alter of sorts. Damn, I'm getting a headache. I almost never have headaches. It was true, and of course, as I started to write about this prince and his so said brother, Lucius and Perseus, I was reminded once more of Athens, where I had just been however briefly, in a short astral trip of sorts, wandering about in the dreamworld, looking for something or someone in place of my pillow to hold. Did you want to walk to Trader Joe's? I mean, kind of, but no. My muscles were sore and I had just spent some two hours in the gym, not on purpose but quite by accident, though only having run just under two miles, though at least uphill, and spending the rest of the time lifting—I had been bound to mostly beans and rice, and so however was bloated and gassy, quite slow and not as strong, my regular protein just out of reach… Dang. I have so much to fucking so today. I hadn't realized that somehow it was Saturday, although just a couple days before had been a Wednesday that felt like Sunday, and now again time was all out of sorts; it was a “holiday” weekend, and I was without a doubt, drowning in my own having-to-do's, and as such, weekends and days off were entirely not a thing, besides in ways that those bustled around me—and I was sure that some days had been lost, as I was planning to visit the food bank on Friday, but had somehow skipped over the end of the week entirely—somehow, that is, and I was sure sometimes that in skipping days, meditating and fasting about, however intermittently, that time itself shuffled in all the ways I had, between cross dimensions and parallels such as I—I had been hovering somewhere between the 6th and. 10th dimensions, for the most part, and none with having to understand the undoubted shifts in my own perception of time that were bound to happen, as I sprawled across the astral plains looking and searching for a sign that the tragic poverty, restlessness, and lack of peace wound end. Bound to your alter, my dear brother? Aye. So perhaps here there was another unfounded kingdom within the realm of Ascencia—Lucius, a prince, and Percius—seemingly slated the King, and yet I had unreached such a conclusion as to assimilate an entirely factionrd world, as of yet. What did you write last night? Uh…I don't know. Well, let's see Something had shaken me from my almost-sleep, laying sprawled across my bed, in the middle of the mattress, rather than to either side, which was rare; I typically preferred the left side of the mattress, anyway, but as I waited to launder my bedding, after a sweaty and sweltering almost summer day of lounging, smothered in shea butter and lasidasicly scrawling about what recordings had been buried in my phone, between the collection of books I had practically all found in the streets of New York and the rising temperatures of the tepid summer weather, my room was starting to smell funny—and without being able to burn sage anymore, for fear of being thrown back into the streets like a dog, I with every hope in the world figured that washing my thick bedding, comforter included, would restore the crisp and rigid, almost factory clean that I found satisfactory. Songs buzzed in and out of my head as if I hadn't enough already much to do—and still, I added into my growing pile of notes and mounds of work, even more songs—this time, The Rolling Stones. I can't get no Satisfaction… …but I try— —and I try— —and I try— And I try! I can't—get no—! God, I wish I could write something like that. The rock Gods had at the very least been accompanying me, and in a certain sense, so had the Gods at The Rock; I had been forced up out of my dormant state by a voice which urged me away from my near sleep—I had been up since six AM and it was something past midnight, and still the voice said— “Get up and write!” And though I had words tinkering around in my head like little coins in some sort of metal box, none of them quite made so much since that I had to get up and write—however, still the voice, though not angry, but firm, insisted. The voice, for once, sounded female— a welcome change, and though I had become quite fond of males in general, in the solemnly celibate sense, it was a difference and yet none at all— a voice of wisdom had projected itself at me, and as I dragged myself about, reaching for a notebook and flipping through the pages, finding that the notebook was practically full… ‘great, more shit to do' I held the words that had tinkered around in my mind like little whispers until I found a page to make them full formed, and the words which fell into my hand as scriptured by the pen—my favorite writing utensil, nearly out of its cherishable gel ink, danced upon the page nearly on its own, channeling the words written as such: Once prosperous to throw The stone asunder Glisten whispers of water Tears of al tears |ter| Of the altar, For follow for fello, A felon of Antigone Grace, with shield A tattered tail, So flew with feathered Phoenix ? Feared, Foreshadowed not, Agreed upon however, Was the velvet woven path of us, So honored in her fortress . Yeah, something about Rockefeller plaza. Well there were all these hooded figures in like weird, brown velvet robes— That's true, I saw that. Yeah, I was there, You WHAT, Look what I got. Fuck me, man. You know, there's a lot more to this story. I was hoping so, but however also, hoping not. Man, Jimmy fallon's wife is super hot. Gee! Yeah man, she's so cute. W0W. I like her, They're Gods. I think they're Gods. yuh. What else did I write? There was something else? What the fuck is wrong with that guy? Somethin. Yeah. The pages of the notebook were all full, something of a book of shadows and protection spells I had used in an attempt to ward off my ex husband—how of course, that they were done with, I should very well have been jotting them into with all the notes, into the documents—later to burn them, unable to afford the parchment book I wanted. For what a withered wa t would call and honor m for fortunes duty, Glorified wherein in am shadows, Cast upon reflections in redacted incantations and enchantments, foreword come, theone who waits Believing darkness be his fate Whatever, man. Fuck Jimmy Fallon. If you really feel that way! I feel a lot of ways. Well, don't. I'm so, so hungry… So, so lonely… So, so fuckin broke. Man—I learned all this dumb ass magic just to protect myself from this guy, and all this still happens! I think it's just Satan. [Satan Appears] Man— she is JACKED. Try this one. Flllow me, boy! Uh— okay. I'm staying single forever. Don't look at me. That's my girl. Don't look at me. What the fuck. Stop looking at her: Don't look at me! Men are hopeless. Fuck dude, like, the worst thing imaginable is that this Jimmy Fallon dude actually hates me so much for this— What? Uh oh. And is so fucking powerful. He is. A very, very powerful. Well, what is it! We don't— know. *gasps* He's a— SHHHHHH. [Redacted] Well, that's not doing much, is it? Seriously, just kill yourself again. Might have to! Fuck, why do all these robot demons SMELL like him? Satan? Yep. Satan ?! I'm— Seriously, save him. Seriously, God really loves Jimmy Fallon— (He's one of my favorites.) Favorite what's?! Just—favorites. Damn. This is getting to be like Greek Theatre. Great. Now everybody's gonna fucking die. It could be a comedy. Holy shit, yeah— This has mad good production value. I love it! Strange shit I just did give my OWSLA tat a kiss Smile for the camera, Pageantry of mattresses, A master of the MagicIan's chance at Chancellors dance, Look at Harrison trance Can I run a mile for President? A toy chest, A boy, just Obama I'm so much older Been through such trauma What the Willy wonka I should apply for Harvard New York over Boston So Columbia or Juliard I wish Son of a bitch, this is tragic I'm too old for scholarship Diploma's in another name I just got protective orders on I should start over But the world war is another Trump drama My Amazon cart is full of karma What you want from God? A trophy husband, Let's call him Oscar -undefeated. All this is weird I think imm married to the music Think of growing a beard Opening a beer And getting out of here All of my fears is Mommy dearest mommy dearest All of my hell is A body Imm a seed in a forest Been buried Bipolar, Supposedly, So tell me, Faery; How could I love you The way I I do If my mood We're atabilized My blu life Gave me blue eyes Clean tub of water I don't belong here It's too late for me too Swapping Vogue for the People My people who hate me But I been so played, The hatred betrays me I walk both ways Down a one way street {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

‘…is that a threat?' ‘Hm…' If it was, it was at least a good one— I was scared, at first, upon seeing what I had thought to be perhaps a package robbery—but was actually just a slit through the package—a clean slice, more specifically, through the bubble wrapped [Redacted] package, however, its contents still inside; The package had been left underneath another—which didn't belong to me, and though I had been cornered by security more than once at the [Redacted] market, for putting my nutritional needs above that of my morality—or rather, thought my morlity to exclude guilt from the nessecities, especially as I often pondered upon the elite had kept the lower classes in a devolved state by controlling the price of wellness, so much so that it had become impractical for the common being. I had never even thought to swipe someone else's mail—a personal foul, and at least in turn in that matter to all respect with karma, had never had any packages stolen, either—not that I had lived indoors long enough to have warranted that I was safe from what sometimes seemed like the non-human animals, especially of New York City, who crawled about the lower realms littering and taking up precious time, space, and energy—the almost less-than-common man, but still, actually and unfortunately—common, especially in New York. The Sage sticks and palo santo I had ordered were still intact, entirely— to my surprise, and I wondered what else my package might have included, without remembering such. I had become enfuriated with [Redacted], after realizing that there had been hidden charges and unrecognizable fees, on my credit card, of all the places—the Capital One credit card, with sky high interest rates and robotic customer service drones—who I mostly would hate talking to— and it seemed as though the [Redacted] algorithm had become just as predatory as the rest of them—as uncivilized as the trash-dropping, coughing subhumans that plagued the post-pandemic world, if there was such a thing. The overcrowded mess and overall pollution of the city at whole at best made it still acceptable to wear masks in public, to which I took full advantage of doing, as needed—which was as often as possible, actually, if not to hide the curiosities, and of course, the objections to whatever it would be on the train that sparked distaste—worst yet, I might even smile, and reveal my gap-tooth, only acceptable on Hurley models and Madonna, of course—either of whom I wished I was. It was 3:16 AM, and a long lost song found its way into my head as I fettered the words into the document, multitasking a “modest” breakfast as I mulled over the day, most of which I had spent attempting peace and solitude, neither of which actually even seemed attainable in my 3rd floor “office”, being so careful not to consider anything home or a comfort, for the fear that whatever Death curse someone had thought to m destroy me with once would extend into all the years and all the realms of my presence— it was true, as I explained to my aunt, that the people around me had within the last few years turned into demonic and vampiric advocates of what seemed to be the devil itself, were I even holy enough to be considered sacred in such a way that the devil may be chasing me—and I was, in some ways, but not in others—my ability to aggrandize my judgements and flex my morality where needed, but less when wanted as it stood true that I never actually enjoyed immorality—I hated living in a world where one would be made to steal, and made to lie, in order to survive. But that, for 30 years is where I had lived; in, for the most part, an evil world, ruled by man, as he denied and tortured all things that would be thought to be God—in his thirst for whatever it was that had waged a world of war. It seemed as though someone were sending a message, and it had been years since I had felt safe or comfortable anywhere, anyway—so I thought it best not to care, knowing that all in all, that the intentional hurt and harm done to me by any man, or any entity otherwise, would prove to l invoke the karmic justice law unto itself; that whatever pain I experienced would be amplified by its giver, and reflected back—that anyone who intended to hurt or kill me—would only hurt or kill themselves in doing so. At the very least, I was inspired to continue writing the script which I had drifted from entirely—its contents and its driver too mad to be palpable, however—as sometimes this kind of magic did occur in flashes at random, with vivid visions as if I were watching—or even living inside of the scene itself, spoke volumes that it should—or would, whether I wanted it or not, be written eventually. ‘Man, fuck Jimmy Fallon.' I knew nothing of the man at all besides his name and occupation, and that something had plastered him permanently into my mind with some kind of irreparable cement I could not seem to break lose or free from—and it was going to stay that way. The entirety of the festival project and all I had been prompted to have written had become a massive headache. I have a massive headache. UGH. Perhaps it was more multidimensionally attributed to the fact that I had been fawning over affordable razorblazes—I had been almost salivating at the thought of bleeding from my wrists—a constant pressure from the lack of things I wanted and needed piling up at my doorstep, my overdue bills, and the harrowing and what seemed like *manacle. Hm. A maniacle attack on my sanity, not actually practitioned by my abuser, but probably more likely the government, masquerading as such to plot and plan around various secret expirimentation, which would of course within the century become common knowledge, but as for such time we're simply conspiracies, perhaps to hide the shameful loss which was the war being fought with technology—which the dumbing down and brainwashing of millions had left us at an extreme risk, and those were were not at risk, with extreme bias against that which they had no ability or interest to understand. Unremarkably so, I was still astonished that something did indeed seem to have happened—something that was not in my head at all, but rather, very much outside of it—and it was beginning to occur to me that perhaps others had gained an interest in what indeed seemed to be attacking me, for years, by then, with fear, humiliation, and detriment—to which I could only ever think to fight with white magic; there was a controlled chaos to what seemed like my being at a wits end, which I was, but also wasn't—for the most part, at least in public, I could take even the most outrageous offenses poignantly and tactfully, however sometimes realizing that—in Keisha having left her sunglasses behind, she had also left with them a little bit of Harlem— “Move.” The mindless drone controlled robots often stepped directly into my path, as if being driven by some force which was meant to annoy or some other way terrorize me—however, I had grown accustomed to new York's overall rudeness, and had become almost socially inept..speaking of Just—socially unacceptable. What is this?! Gross. What is this?! Papaya juice. Is this a fucking—?! No it's a v8 My G-Wagon! Nice. Got it painted. What color even is that? It's like— mauve. MOVE. FUCKING-A. Jesus Christ. One time, The white devil appeared as a fucked up Edie Falco// And I was so fed up-to-here With The Bullshit, That I didn't even care what happened if I — MOVE OUT OF MY WAY: OR WHAT?! Damn, Mrs. Soprano, you look rough. Are you sure that's not just JACKIE. WHAT. That's the way Uh huh Uh huh I like it Uh huh Uh huh Schools out— Party with my friends! school's out! I'm a genie in a bottle, You gotta rub me the right way! I been too strong, for too long And I can't be without you baby! Is that all of them? Probably not: So mix, then, Probably not. Well Why not?! Because My Serato's been acting horrible. Tommy looked what I would learn to be like a be exact replica of 1988 Tom Cruise. Which reminds me… The 1987 Tom Cruise* is murdered by Supacree's jealous stalker, in a fit of rage, which spirals all known aliases and timelines into a terrible and chaotic nightmare, as Wait, what. I'm just being honest, I don't know how to write this. Here, let me help. YO. wtf. Should have had a V8! SPLASH, BITCH. WHERE's MY SHIIT, JIMMY? It's gone, I broke it. You what. It's missing; I broke it. What do you mean. AHAHA. Oh, I see what you mean, now. Yeah, that guy is different. [The amethyst shatters.] NOH. Woaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa_l GOLD. IT IS GOLDEN. THE ORB. What. The orb. It has chosen you. Uh. Oka. Who the fuck are these creatures—?! “Creetures” I love them. They are darling They are cute. Man, fuck with your bullshit—. —Stay in fucking— Where ever that's at! This is “Queens” Well, it's disgusting. GET LOST. Get lost HOW. Everything's on a grid system! FUCK. I lost it, Damn. Dang. Well, wanna play again? Nah, that's it. What?! Come on. No, seriously. I'm done. Wait, what are you doing? *pulls out rifle* WOAH. WOAH. You should go now. What is that, It's a gun, obviously. What the fuck, man! A rifle, actually, more specifically— What—why—what are you gonna do with that thing? I'm gonna shoot myself: ano— YES. In the head— Don't do that; And you, if you don't get out— Wait! Right now. *aims* Okay! Ah shit, this is getting serious: It s seriously like dick-deep in pussy in here right now. Nay: Maybe we should GO. Hello. M— Maybe we should stay: What! I like her. Get off my property. This is-/ This is MINE. I own this: This one's Mine! Oh, this is what they mean by “ecstatic dance” Actually, my feet are just coldX… Wait, hold on. Before you go off on a tangent about— mm— What is that I don't know what that is. U don't know what it is Look, I wanted that to be Dillon's baby so bad— (So did he) HAHAHAHA. I will end u Oh, baby, there's only one way you could ever do that. Everyone Thrrr she is. She's back! Aaaaaannnyyyeaaaayy— Please explain to us what's happening in this movie. Which movie The Tom Cryise one, Cause there can only be one Tom Cruise one Because Tom cruise is Tom Cruise. Wait. What. TOM HANKS YOU FORGOT MY NAME BRIEfLY YES, but also— That's WHY, this happened. TOM CRUISE I TOLD YOU I TOLD YOU I TOLD YOU-/ You STUPID BITC— Look — I gotta — Oh wait, that still works. What?! You fucked that guy too?! NO. I just. This is a lot of space. Well yeah, we're like—astronauts. How did you get this all in your loft? MAJOR TOM. ALRIGHT. I GOT IT. AHAHAHSJSJHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO MORE ECID. YAYAYAY. Whrrereeeeeeeeeeeeeee Wherereere in my miiiiiiiiind. Fuck I gotta buy that album….again I know I bought it once. dang. Youre cute, I know, huh. Buy me this Ok. [Beyoncé is not yet back with the coffee.] Deja Vu, Beyoncé Uh oh, uh oh— Uh oh! OHNONO ^ Matumbo AIIIIIIIIGGGGGGGHHHHHHH. Crazy in love— also Beyonce? Destiny's ChildrenS HAHAHA OK. FUCK YOU, DILLON FRANCIS. DEADMAU5 IS A WAY BETTER CONTROLLER *HEAPING GASP* YOU—TAKE THAT BACK. I WOULDNT. I will END YOU. YOU CANNOT. Where the fuck is that lady from? Oh, there she is! Pity! Oh dear! She's NEGROID: Shh, tisk-tisk. [ANNE HATHAWAY dabbed tf out.] Come on Annie! Get up! [she is not getting up] THINK OF THE KIDSz *nope* UGH. WASTED. That sucks! We gotta get her back in that princess movie before everything dies and we all collapse! Which princess movie is it?! Idk! Fuck this bitch! She's like all the princesses! KEKE Palmart* Sure! KEKE PALMER will be playing the PRINCESS from princess and the frog Put the princess—IN—the frog! NO. PUT THE PRINCESS IN THE— AGHHHH. PUT DILLON FRANCIS, BACK IN THE OVEN. NO Ugh. He's so heavy! He's not gonna fit. He WILL fit: NO: SAY UNCLE. ASHEJEBEB SAY IT. AAAAANNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKHHHH [a giant Ankh falls from the sky] Yo. That cannot be a good sign. I think it's not. SUBTRONICS *rips bong* Hey! You made it! Way, way late: Nice! Yes. Why are you naked? I don't know. SOLEÏL. Fuck, man. Wizardrddd! What is this game?! I dunno, but I just keep playing it. This shit says. This does say. This shit says ballsacks. I don't get kids these days “Ballsacks” Is that like, a good thing? Depends who's saying NEY-WHINNY-NEY-WHINNY-NEEEE Horse: ok, I win: JOHNNY DEPP literally cannot speak. Because he is not intoxicated. At all. lol someone help him, seriously. Ok, keep going. All the DISNEY CHANNEL KIDS are WILD ‘N OUT Which is ironic because— NICK CANNON Yep, Oh look, it's me again… NICK CANNON Look, the Nickelodeon Cult— What; I mean— The Illuminati just called, They want their stuff back. What STUFF. SAY IT. NEVER THAT. SAY MY NAMEs PASSWORD FALLON, YOU FUCKING HACK. oh, I'm a ‘hack' now that's— “Haha” Who's laughing?! You should be crying right about now. I'm an actor. Very funny. Tears of a clown. Shut up: I am crying, on the inside. -_- Sit down, dipshit: Ooh, now I'm dip— *cocks pistol* Shit, I thought you couldn't— Oh no, this part of the series gets pretty— You're in deep fucking shit; [JIMMY FALLON sits calmly at his desk, he scoops some “sugar” into his coffee and stirs, seemingly emotionless.] CUT TO DANCE BREAK. I wanna hold 'em like they do in Texas, please CUT TO: Texas border patrol holding cell. DIPLO (In a stupid ass cowboy hat) m *jail door slams* AH, COME ON. Fold 'em, let 'em hit me, raise it, baby, stay with me (I love it) I thought it was… “A little gambling is fun when you're with me” (I love it.) Maybe it WAS. What year was that anyway? Idk. What year was any year before [Lyrics Genius] Flashback: The 2000's Rewind it again. What did she just say? Idk. What did he say? Damn. Fuck, I missed it. Love game intuition, play the cards with spades to start THE ACE OF SPAAAAAAADES. Okay. Fine. He wants to be Satan? He's Satan. Yo, that's— SATAN. [Skrillex is Satan] Yeah, but he's so fucking cute. Supacree, what are you doing? BRB, I'm gonna go fuck this lil ass [censored] Damn. Ok. S/he does not fuck around, that guy. Yeah, that guy. And after he's been hooked, I'll play the one that's on his heart I guess we'll just have to… wait till they play it on the radio again… / Wait till the next rave. fuck. MIXTAPES. GETCHUR MIXTAPES. La da da Dee da da duh duhhh La da da Dee da daaaah da duuuuuum La da da da de da La da da da Dee da Da da Dee da da da da dum Okay, Google, let's see what you got. I got—Reddit.. r/NameThatSong 5 yr. ago Surprentis Join Can't figure out this song. Looking for help hey you guys remember that song from back in the day that went "la da dee da da da daaaa, la da dee da da da daaaaa, ah la da dee daaa da la daa dee daaa daa daa dee daa da daaa da daaaaa" i feel like it was on night at the roxbury maybe im wrong.. uh, ok— wtf is “night at the Roxbury” …Google? GOOGLE Here: you'll like this. Oh shit, ‘98 … FINALLY. JESUS CHRIST. Holy shit, you were on SNL in 1998?! Yes. How the fuck old are you? Jesus Christ! JESUS CHRIST …not as old as me. [but everyone's still mad as fuck at Jesus for eating all of the pizza] wtf, man: Just— inhaled it. *gnarf* Actually, you know what: Just stay—celibate: Oh check it out. THIS lady only shows up if I— *squints* if you what: Nothing. Nothing. ANNNNNNNE. GET. UP. She's not gonna go. She's dead bro. I'm not dead! YES! oh! She's up! YES *barfs*! [instantly back asleep] —m— That's it We're fucked. Disney's gonna kill us. The Illuminati's gonna kill us! Disney is the Illuminati. Yeah, but like—for kids. THIS IS NOT FOR KIDS. THIS IS NOT FOR KIDS. KIDS AVERT YOUR EYES, CHILDREN! All sixteen pairs of them! wtf who has that many kids Eight fucking kids, bro. ^_- ok, I like her. Yeesss. Ya. Imm drunk. K. gargle! Nah! GARGLE, RIGHT NOW OR I'll wash your mouth with soap! [pulls gun] THATS NOT SOAP. MY GUN'S NAME IS “SOAP” Shit, why are there so many guns in this shit?! Because Skrillex is like, Cartel, or whatever. And like—the Bloods. ☠️ And the Crips, probably, also— Like I said, He is Satan. GET OVER HERE AND- SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOTTTT: I got nothin. What: I got// Zero scenes You got no scene, broh? No scenes. None? Zip. None? Zero. Woah. Hold up. will— uh— “powers” Ferrel—like an animal that won't shut up, or something? Will bite you—may be rabid— Feral? You mean? Sure; whatever.d Just, stop talking, How the fuck do you do the same movie— like— infinitely. Recap: every will ferret* Sure! EVERY WILL FERRELL MOVIE IS ULTIMATELY... They're all the same movie! GET UP, After waking up in a hungover/still intoxicated rage, Anne Hathaway causes a showdown worthy of historical proportions, which concludes with her legendary “yeet” of a mysterious object of extra planetary origin—this initiates round two of the party which never should have happened, and almost never ended. In another parallel cross dimension: Irl JIMMY FALLON and Ū are imaginary friends; rather, Ū is a figment of JIMMY FALLON's imagination and vice-versa—this scene pays homage to Wilfred; they share stories with one another as they pass the bong/blunt in a solid back-to-back rotation, making the tragic stories they are telling almost hilarious, but only because they are so generously stoned. —_— So wait, he like— *passes blunt* —Here, take this— —Yeah— *passes bong* —Just switch me— Yee. So he like—“yeeted” your baby? He Yeeted my baby. *blowing out, coughing* That's not supposed to happen. No, it is not. Here, switch me. *switch* *rips* *shaking head in stoniness* [beat] So like— *rips bong* —you're like, Ū, so— You're like… I'm like, everybody. Right? Yeah. Yeah! I'm Ū, dawg. That is a cool name. Is—a cool name *hits blunt* Here, switch me— *rips bong* Is—not—a cool power to have. I bet not, though. You would imagine I wouldn't, that's in—coughs—sane. It is insane: cover your mouth: Sorry. No you're not, So how are you not like— Like what? I'm Ū, there what// So how are you not like— Seth McFarle—uhh Seth McFarlen lol *e What Uh, I am. SETH MCFARLENE No you're not, I'm right here. *suddenly not stoned* What the FUCK man: Woah, Seth McFarlene. HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY OFFICE. I walked in. That's boss status. What the fuck! I locked it! You did not. I walked in—like right behind you guys You probably forgot… You—I forgot— He forgot to lock The Rock lol stop Walk it out, Now walk it out // Walk it like I talk it Talk it like I RUN BITCH RUN FLORIST, RUN!!! Lmfao. Ok. CUT BACK TO: You probably forgot, dude. Alright, Seth McFarlene. Just—*hits blunt* stop talking . Load another bowl Giggity! *passes blunt* You want this? No, I'm straight. Are you, though? What?! Yeah, I'm— I mean, l'm good on the— You know what? Fuck it, gimmie that. Yee. Sauce. [there is a knock at the door] Welp, I gotta go. [Jimmy Fallon is suddenly alone in his office, with a blunt in one hand and a bong in the other. The lights automatically shut off; the coffee maker brings brewing automatically—-three more knocks at the door.] *sighs* [explitive] CUT TO: That fucking rager Is it day?! Is it night?! We don't know! It's been months, probably Weeks, at best— But all we actually know about this time and place is that— The HATTER is here. For fucks SAKE. GIVE ME ANOTHER BEER, SOMEBODY. ANYBODY. lol Johnny Del*. Sure JOHNNY DEPP is drinking Duh *beer?! Uh huh That's all we have, man. *light beers I'MMM BUZZZZZED LIGHTYEAR BUUUUUUUZZXXXED LIGHTYEARR no, Tim Allen, not yet. Fuck, on that note Now I know why THERES A SNAKE IN MY BOOT yeah there is! Ok, ew Ok, gross Stop ew Stop Ew. Cut lil blonde Hot as Finneas O' Connell Possible homosexual, but god love him Cause I'm hungry Lookin for lunch Somebody as scrunches Pull up and crunches Cause my monster is Lookin to Humpty Dumpty Fuck, I forgot Rosie O'Donnal! I cant get no Satiafaftion— The Rolling Stones What's wrong, Saint Jimmy? Luscius? What is it. Precious would like to see you. Oh. The prince Lucius hasn't left his chamber in days—however, as his brother Percius has just returned from war, he quickly emerges from his resting place, an alter of sorts. Damn, I'm getting a headache. I almost never have headaches. It was true, and of course, as I started to write about this prince and his so said brother, Lucius and Perseus, I was reminded once more of Athens, where I had just been however briefly, in a short astral trip of sorts, wandering about in the dreamworld, looking for something or someone in place of my pillow to hold. Did you want to walk to Trader Joe's? I mean, kind of, but no. My muscles were sore and I had just spent some two hours in the gym, not on purpose but quite by accident, though only having run just under two miles, though at least uphill, and spending the rest of the time lifting—I had been bound to mostly beans and rice, and so however was bloated and gassy, quite slow and not as strong, my regular protein just out of reach… Dang. I have so much to fucking so today. I hadn't realized that somehow it was Saturday, although just a couple days before had been a Wednesday that felt like Sunday, and now again time was all out of sorts; it was a “holiday” weekend, and I was without a doubt, drowning in my own having-to-do's, and as such, weekends and days off were entirely not a thing, besides in ways that those bustled around me—and I was sure that some days had been lost, as I was planning to visit the food bank on Friday, but had somehow skipped over the end of the week entirely—somehow, that is, and I was sure sometimes that in skipping days, meditating and fasting about, however intermittently, that time itself shuffled in all the ways I had, between cross dimensions and parallels such as I—I had been hovering somewhere between the 6th and. 10th dimensions, for the most part, and none with having to understand the undoubted shifts in my own perception of time that were bound to happen, as I sprawled across the astral plains looking and searching for a sign that the tragic poverty, restlessness, and lack of peace wound end. Bound to your alter, my dear brother? Aye. So perhaps here there was another unfounded kingdom within the realm of Ascencia—Lucius, a prince, and Percius—seemingly slated the King, and yet I had unreached such a conclusion as to assimilate an entirely factionrd world, as of yet. What did you write last night? Uh…I don't know. Well, let's see Something had shaken me from my almost-sleep, laying sprawled across my bed, in the middle of the mattress, rather than to either side, which was rare; I typically preferred the left side of the mattress, anyway, but as I waited to launder my bedding, after a sweaty and sweltering almost summer day of lounging, smothered in shea butter and lasidasicly scrawling about what recordings had been buried in my phone, between the collection of books I had practically all found in the streets of New York and the rising temperatures of the tepid summer weather, my room was starting to smell funny—and without being able to burn sage anymore, for fear of being thrown back into the streets like a dog, I with every hope in the world figured that washing my thick bedding, comforter included, would restore the crisp and rigid, almost factory clean that I found satisfactory. Songs buzzed in and out of my head as if I hadn't enough already much to do—and still, I added into my growing pile of notes and mounds of work, even more songs—this time, The Rolling Stones. I can't get no Satisfaction… …but I try— —and I try— —and I try— And I try! I can't—get no—! God, I wish I could write something like that. The rock Gods had at the very least been accompanying me, and in a certain sense, so had the Gods at The Rock; I had been forced up out of my dormant state by a voice which urged me away from my near sleep—I had been up since six AM and it was something past midnight, and still the voice said— “Get up and write!” And though I had words tinkering around in my head like little coins in some sort of metal box, none of them quite made so much since that I had to get up and write—however, still the voice, though not angry, but firm, insisted. The voice, for once, sounded female— a welcome change, and though I had become quite fond of males in general, in the solemnly celibate sense, it was a difference and yet none at all— a voice of wisdom had projected itself at me, and as I dragged myself about, reaching for a notebook and flipping through the pages, finding that the notebook was practically full… ‘great, more shit to do' I held the words that had tinkered around in my mind like little whispers until I found a page to make them full formed, and the words which fell into my hand as scriptured by the pen—my favorite writing utensil, nearly out of its cherishable gel ink, danced upon the page nearly on its own, channeling the words written as such: Once prosperous to throw The stone asunder Glisten whispers of water Tears of al tears |ter| Of the altar, For follow for fello, A felon of Antigone Grace, with shield A tattered tail, So flew with feathered Phoenix ? Feared, Foreshadowed not, Agreed upon however, Was the velvet woven path of us, So honored in her fortress . Yeah, something about Rockefeller plaza. Well there were all these hooded figures in like weird, brown velvet robes— That's true, I saw that. Yeah, I was there, You WHAT, Look what I got. Fuck me, man. You know, there's a lot more to this story. I was hoping so, but however also, hoping not. Man, Jimmy fallon's wife is super hot. Gee! Yeah man, she's so cute. W0W. I like her, They're Gods. I think they're Gods. yuh. What else did I write? There was something else? What the fuck is wrong with that guy? Somethin. Yeah. The pages of the notebook were all full, something of a book of shadows and protection spells I had used in an attempt to ward off my ex husband—how of course, that they were done with, I should very well have been jotting them into with all the notes, into the documents—later to burn them, unable to afford the parchment book I wanted. For what a withered wa t would call and honor m for fortunes duty, Glorified wherein in am shadows, Cast upon reflections in redacted incantations and enchantments, foreword come, theone who waits Believing darkness be his fate Whatever, man. Fuck Jimmy Fallon. If you really feel that way! I feel a lot of ways. Well, don't. I'm so, so hungry… So, so lonely… So, so fuckin broke. Man—I learned all this dumb ass magic just to protect myself from this guy, and all this still happens! I think it's just Satan. [Satan Appears] Man— she is JACKED. Try this one. Flllow me, boy! Uh— okay. I'm staying single forever. Don't look at me. That's my girl. Don't look at me. What the fuck. Stop looking at her: Don't look at me! Men are hopeless. Fuck dude, like, the worst thing imaginable is that this Jimmy Fallon dude actually hates me so much for this— What? Uh oh. And is so fucking powerful. He is. A very, very powerful. Well, what is it! We don't— know. *gasps* He's a— SHHHHHH. [Redacted] Well, that's not doing much, is it? Seriously, just kill yourself again. Might have to! Fuck, why do all these robot demons SMELL like him? Satan? Yep. Satan ?! I'm— Seriously, save him. Seriously, God really loves Jimmy Fallon— (He's one of my favorites.) Favorite what's?! Just—favorites. Damn. This is getting to be like Greek Theatre. Great. Now everybody's gonna fucking die. It could be a comedy. Holy shit, yeah— This has mad good production value. I love it! Strange shit I just did give my OWSLA tat a kiss Smile for the camera, Pageantry of mattresses, A master of the MagicIan's chance at Chancellors dance, Look at Harrison trance Can I run a mile for President? A toy chest, A boy, just Obama I'm so much older Been through such trauma What the Willy wonka I should apply for Harvard New York over Boston So Columbia or Juliard I wish Son of a bitch, this is tragic I'm too old for scholarship Diploma's in another name I just got protective orders on I should start over But the world war is another Trump drama My Amazon cart is full of karma What you want from God? A trophy husband, Let's call him Oscar -undefeated. All this is weird I think imm married to the music Think of growing a beard Opening a beer And getting out of here All of my fears is Mommy dearest mommy dearest All of my hell is A body Imm a seed in a forest Been buried Bipolar, Supposedly, So tell me, Faery; How could I love you The way I I do If my mood We're atabilized My blu life Gave me blue eyes Clean tub of water I don't belong here It's too late for me too Swapping Vogue for the People My people who hate me But I been so played, The hatred betrays me I walk both ways Down a one way street {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

‘…is that a threat?' ‘Hm…' If it was, it was at least a good one— I was scared, at first, upon seeing what I had thought to be perhaps a package robbery—but was actually just a slit through the package—a clean slice, more specifically, through the bubble wrapped [Redacted] package, however, its contents still inside; The package had been left underneath another—which didn't belong to me, and though I had been cornered by security more than once at the [Redacted] market, for putting my nutritional needs above that of my morality—or rather, thought my morlity to exclude guilt from the nessecities, especially as I often pondered upon the elite had kept the lower classes in a devolved state by controlling the price of wellness, so much so that it had become impractical for the common being. I had never even thought to swipe someone else's mail—a personal foul, and at least in turn in that matter to all respect with karma, had never had any packages stolen, either—not that I had lived indoors long enough to have warranted that I was safe from what sometimes seemed like the non-human animals, especially of New York City, who crawled about the lower realms littering and taking up precious time, space, and energy—the almost less-than-common man, but still, actually and unfortunately—common, especially in New York. The Sage sticks and palo santo I had ordered were still intact, entirely— to my surprise, and I wondered what else my package might have included, without remembering such. I had become enfuriated with [Redacted], after realizing that there had been hidden charges and unrecognizable fees, on my credit card, of all the places—the Capital One credit card, with sky high interest rates and robotic customer service drones—who I mostly would hate talking to— and it seemed as though the [Redacted] algorithm had become just as predatory as the rest of them—as uncivilized as the trash-dropping, coughing subhumans that plagued the post-pandemic world, if there was such a thing. The overcrowded mess and overall pollution of the city at whole at best made it still acceptable to wear masks in public, to which I took full advantage of doing, as needed—which was as often as possible, actually, if not to hide the curiosities, and of course, the objections to whatever it would be on the train that sparked distaste—worst yet, I might even smile, and reveal my gap-tooth, only acceptable on Hurley models and Madonna, of course—either of whom I wished I was. It was 3:16 AM, and a long lost song found its way into my head as I fettered the words into the document, multitasking a “modest” breakfast as I mulled over the day, most of which I had spent attempting peace and solitude, neither of which actually even seemed attainable in my 3rd floor “office”, being so careful not to consider anything home or a comfort, for the fear that whatever Death curse someone had thought to m destroy me with once would extend into all the years and all the realms of my presence— it was true, as I explained to my aunt, that the people around me had within the last few years turned into demonic and vampiric advocates of what seemed to be the devil itself, were I even holy enough to be considered sacred in such a way that the devil may be chasing me—and I was, in some ways, but not in others—my ability to aggrandize my judgements and flex my morality where needed, but less when wanted as it stood true that I never actually enjoyed immorality—I hated living in a world where one would be made to steal, and made to lie, in order to survive. But that, for 30 years is where I had lived; in, for the most part, an evil world, ruled by man, as he denied and tortured all things that would be thought to be God—in his thirst for whatever it was that had waged a world of war. It seemed as though someone were sending a message, and it had been years since I had felt safe or comfortable anywhere, anyway—so I thought it best not to care, knowing that all in all, that the intentional hurt and harm done to me by any man, or any entity otherwise, would prove to l invoke the karmic justice law unto itself; that whatever pain I experienced would be amplified by its giver, and reflected back—that anyone who intended to hurt or kill me—would only hurt or kill themselves in doing so. At the very least, I was inspired to continue writing the script which I had drifted from entirely—its contents and its driver too mad to be palpable, however—as sometimes this kind of magic did occur in flashes at random, with vivid visions as if I were watching—or even living inside of the scene itself, spoke volumes that it should—or would, whether I wanted it or not, be written eventually. ‘Man, fuck Jimmy Fallon.' I knew nothing of the man at all besides his name and occupation, and that something had plastered him permanently into my mind with some kind of irreparable cement I could not seem to break lose or free from—and it was going to stay that way. The entirety of the festival project and all I had been prompted to have written had become a massive headache. I have a massive headache. UGH. Perhaps it was more multidimensionally attributed to the fact that I had been fawning over affordable razorblazes—I had been almost salivating at the thought of bleeding from my wrists—a constant pressure from the lack of things I wanted and needed piling up at my doorstep, my overdue bills, and the harrowing and what seemed like *manacle. Hm. A maniacle attack on my sanity, not actually practitioned by my abuser, but probably more likely the government, masquerading as such to plot and plan around various secret expirimentation, which would of course within the century become common knowledge, but as for such time we're simply conspiracies, perhaps to hide the shameful loss which was the war being fought with technology—which the dumbing down and brainwashing of millions had left us at an extreme risk, and those were were not at risk, with extreme bias against that which they had no ability or interest to understand. Unremarkably so, I was still astonished that something did indeed seem to have happened—something that was not in my head at all, but rather, very much outside of it—and it was beginning to occur to me that perhaps others had gained an interest in what indeed seemed to be attacking me, for years, by then, with fear, humiliation, and detriment—to which I could only ever think to fight with white magic; there was a controlled chaos to what seemed like my being at a wits end, which I was, but also wasn't—for the most part, at least in public, I could take even the most outrageous offenses poignantly and tactfully, however sometimes realizing that—in Keisha having left her sunglasses behind, she had also left with them a little bit of Harlem— “Move.” The mindless drone controlled robots often stepped directly into my path, as if being driven by some force which was meant to annoy or some other way terrorize me—however, I had grown accustomed to new York's overall rudeness, and had become almost socially inept..speaking of Just—socially unacceptable. What is this?! Gross. What is this?! Papaya juice. Is this a fucking—?! No it's a v8 My G-Wagon! Nice. Got it painted. What color even is that? It's like— mauve. MOVE. FUCKING-A. Jesus Christ. One time, The white devil appeared as a fucked up Edie Falco// And I was so fed up-to-here With The Bullshit, That I didn't even care what happened if I — MOVE OUT OF MY WAY: OR WHAT?! Damn, Mrs. Soprano, you look rough. Are you sure that's not just JACKIE. WHAT. That's the way Uh huh Uh huh I like it Uh huh Uh huh Schools out— Party with my friends! school's out! I'm a genie in a bottle, You gotta rub me the right way! I been too strong, for too long And I can't be without you baby! Is that all of them? Probably not: So mix, then, Probably not. Well Why not?! Because My Serato's been acting horrible. Tommy looked what I would learn to be like a be exact replica of 1988 Tom Cruise. Which reminds me… The 1987 Tom Cruise* is murdered by Supacree's jealous stalker, in a fit of rage, which spirals all known aliases and timelines into a terrible and chaotic nightmare, as Wait, what. I'm just being honest, I don't know how to write this. Here, let me help. YO. wtf. Should have had a V8! SPLASH, BITCH. WHERE's MY SHIIT, JIMMY? It's gone, I broke it. You what. It's missing; I broke it. What do you mean. AHAHA. Oh, I see what you mean, now. Yeah, that guy is different. [The amethyst shatters.] NOH. Woaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa_l GOLD. IT IS GOLDEN. THE ORB. What. The orb. It has chosen you. Uh. Oka. Who the fuck are these creatures—?! “Creetures” I love them. They are darling They are cute. Man, fuck with your bullshit—. —Stay in fucking— Where ever that's at! This is “Queens” Well, it's disgusting. GET LOST. Get lost HOW. Everything's on a grid system! FUCK. I lost it, Damn. Dang. Well, wanna play again? Nah, that's it. What?! Come on. No, seriously. I'm done. Wait, what are you doing? *pulls out rifle* WOAH. WOAH. You should go now. What is that, It's a gun, obviously. What the fuck, man! A rifle, actually, more specifically— What—why—what are you gonna do with that thing? I'm gonna shoot myself: ano— YES. In the head— Don't do that; And you, if you don't get out— Wait! Right now. *aims* Okay! Ah shit, this is getting serious: It s seriously like dick-deep in pussy in here right now. Nay: Maybe we should GO. Hello. M— Maybe we should stay: What! I like her. Get off my property. This is-/ This is MINE. I own this: This one's Mine! Oh, this is what they mean by “ecstatic dance” Actually, my feet are just coldX… Wait, hold on. Before you go off on a tangent about— mm— What is that I don't know what that is. U don't know what it is Look, I wanted that to be Dillon's baby so bad— (So did he) HAHAHAHA. I will end u Oh, baby, there's only one way you could ever do that. Everyone Thrrr she is. She's back! Aaaaaannnyyyeaaaayy— Please explain to us what's happening in this movie. Which movie The Tom Cryise one, Cause there can only be one Tom Cruise one Because Tom cruise is Tom Cruise. Wait. What. TOM HANKS YOU FORGOT MY NAME BRIEfLY YES, but also— That's WHY, this happened. TOM CRUISE I TOLD YOU I TOLD YOU I TOLD YOU-/ You STUPID BITC— Look — I gotta — Oh wait, that still works. What?! You fucked that guy too?! NO. I just. This is a lot of space. Well yeah, we're like—astronauts. How did you get this all in your loft? MAJOR TOM. ALRIGHT. I GOT IT. AHAHAHSJSJHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO MORE ECID. YAYAYAY. Whrrereeeeeeeeeeeeeee Wherereere in my miiiiiiiiind. Fuck I gotta buy that album….again I know I bought it once. dang. Youre cute, I know, huh. Buy me this Ok. [Beyoncé is not yet back with the coffee.] Deja Vu, Beyoncé Uh oh, uh oh— Uh oh! OHNONO ^ Matumbo AIIIIIIIIGGGGGGGHHHHHHH. Crazy in love— also Beyonce? Destiny's ChildrenS HAHAHA OK. FUCK YOU, DILLON FRANCIS. DEADMAU5 IS A WAY BETTER CONTROLLER *HEAPING GASP* YOU—TAKE THAT BACK. I WOULDNT. I will END YOU. YOU CANNOT. Where the fuck is that lady from? Oh, there she is! Pity! Oh dear! She's NEGROID: Shh, tisk-tisk. [ANNE HATHAWAY dabbed tf out.] Come on Annie! Get up! [she is not getting up] THINK OF THE KIDSz *nope* UGH. WASTED. That sucks! We gotta get her back in that princess movie before everything dies and we all collapse! Which princess movie is it?! Idk! Fuck this bitch! She's like all the princesses! KEKE Palmart* Sure! KEKE PALMER will be playing the PRINCESS from princess and the frog Put the princess—IN—the frog! NO. PUT THE PRINCESS IN THE— AGHHHH. PUT DILLON FRANCIS, BACK IN THE OVEN. NO Ugh. He's so heavy! He's not gonna fit. He WILL fit: NO: SAY UNCLE. ASHEJEBEB SAY IT. AAAAANNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKHHHH [a giant Ankh falls from the sky] Yo. That cannot be a good sign. I think it's not. SUBTRONICS *rips bong* Hey! You made it! Way, way late: Nice! Yes. Why are you naked? I don't know. SOLEÏL. Fuck, man. Wizardrddd! What is this game?! I dunno, but I just keep playing it. This shit says. This does say. This shit says ballsacks. I don't get kids these days “Ballsacks” Is that like, a good thing? Depends who's saying NEY-WHINNY-NEY-WHINNY-NEEEE Horse: ok, I win: JOHNNY DEPP literally cannot speak. Because he is not intoxicated. At all. lol someone help him, seriously. Ok, keep going. All the DISNEY CHANNEL KIDS are WILD ‘N OUT Which is ironic because— NICK CANNON Yep, Oh look, it's me again… NICK CANNON Look, the Nickelodeon Cult— What; I mean— The Illuminati just called, They want their stuff back. What STUFF. SAY IT. NEVER THAT. SAY MY NAMEs PASSWORD FALLON, YOU FUCKING HACK. oh, I'm a ‘hack' now that's— “Haha” Who's laughing?! You should be crying right about now. I'm an actor. Very funny. Tears of a clown. Shut up: I am crying, on the inside. -_- Sit down, dipshit: Ooh, now I'm dip— *cocks pistol* Shit, I thought you couldn't— Oh no, this part of the series gets pretty— You're in deep fucking shit; [JIMMY FALLON sits calmly at his desk, he scoops some “sugar” into his coffee and stirs, seemingly emotionless.] CUT TO DANCE BREAK. I wanna hold 'em like they do in Texas, please CUT TO: Texas border patrol holding cell. DIPLO (In a stupid ass cowboy hat) m *jail door slams* AH, COME ON. Fold 'em, let 'em hit me, raise it, baby, stay with me (I love it) I thought it was… “A little gambling is fun when you're with me” (I love it.) Maybe it WAS. What year was that anyway? Idk. What year was any year before [Lyrics Genius] Flashback: The 2000's Rewind it again. What did she just say? Idk. What did he say? Damn. Fuck, I missed it. Love game intuition, play the cards with spades to start THE ACE OF SPAAAAAAADES. Okay. Fine. He wants to be Satan? He's Satan. Yo, that's— SATAN. [Skrillex is Satan] Yeah, but he's so fucking cute. Supacree, what are you doing? BRB, I'm gonna go fuck this lil ass [censored] Damn. Ok. S/he does not fuck around, that guy. Yeah, that guy. And after he's been hooked, I'll play the one that's on his heart I guess we'll just have to… wait till they play it on the radio again… / Wait till the next rave. fuck. MIXTAPES. GETCHUR MIXTAPES. La da da Dee da da duh duhhh La da da Dee da daaaah da duuuuuum La da da da de da La da da da Dee da Da da Dee da da da da dum Okay, Google, let's see what you got. I got—Reddit.. r/NameThatSong 5 yr. ago Surprentis Join Can't figure out this song. Looking for help hey you guys remember that song from back in the day that went "la da dee da da da daaaa, la da dee da da da daaaaa, ah la da dee daaa da la daa dee daaa daa daa dee daa da daaa da daaaaa" i feel like it was on night at the roxbury maybe im wrong.. uh, ok— wtf is “night at the Roxbury” …Google? GOOGLE Here: you'll like this. Oh shit, ‘98 … FINALLY. JESUS CHRIST. Holy shit, you were on SNL in 1998?! Yes. How the fuck old are you? Jesus Christ! JESUS CHRIST …not as old as me. [but everyone's still mad as fuck at Jesus for eating all of the pizza] wtf, man: Just— inhaled it. *gnarf* Actually, you know what: Just stay—celibate: Oh check it out. THIS lady only shows up if I— *squints* if you what: Nothing. Nothing. ANNNNNNNE. GET. UP. She's not gonna go. She's dead bro. I'm not dead! YES! oh! She's up! YES *barfs*! [instantly back asleep] —m— That's it We're fucked. Disney's gonna kill us. The Illuminati's gonna kill us! Disney is the Illuminati. Yeah, but like—for kids. THIS IS NOT FOR KIDS. THIS IS NOT FOR KIDS. KIDS AVERT YOUR EYES, CHILDREN! All sixteen pairs of them! wtf who has that many kids Eight fucking kids, bro. ^_- ok, I like her. Yeesss. Ya. Imm drunk. K. gargle! Nah! GARGLE, RIGHT NOW OR I'll wash your mouth with soap! [pulls gun] THATS NOT SOAP. MY GUN'S NAME IS “SOAP” Shit, why are there so many guns in this shit?! Because Skrillex is like, Cartel, or whatever. And like—the Bloods. ☠️ And the Crips, probably, also— Like I said, He is Satan. GET OVER HERE AND- SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOTTTT: I got nothin. What: I got// Zero scenes You got no scene, broh? No scenes. None? Zip. None? Zero. Woah. Hold up. will— uh— “powers” Ferrel—like an animal that won't shut up, or something? Will bite you—may be rabid— Feral? You mean? Sure; whatever.d Just, stop talking, How the fuck do you do the same movie— like— infinitely. Recap: every will ferret* Sure! EVERY WILL FERRELL MOVIE IS ULTIMATELY... They're all the same movie! GET UP, After waking up in a hungover/still intoxicated rage, Anne Hathaway causes a showdown worthy of historical proportions, which concludes with her legendary “yeet” of a mysterious object of extra planetary origin—this initiates round two of the party which never should have happened, and almost never ended. In another parallel cross dimension: Irl JIMMY FALLON and Ū are imaginary friends; rather, Ū is a figment of JIMMY FALLON's imagination and vice-versa—this scene pays homage to Wilfred; they share stories with one another as they pass the bong/blunt in a solid back-to-back rotation, making the tragic stories they are telling almost hilarious, but only because they are so generously stoned. —_— So wait, he like— *passes blunt* —Here, take this— —Yeah— *passes bong* —Just switch me— Yee. So he like—“yeeted” your baby? He Yeeted my baby. *blowing out, coughing* That's not supposed to happen. No, it is not. Here, switch me. *switch* *rips* *shaking head in stoniness* [beat] So like— *rips bong* —you're like, Ū, so— You're like… I'm like, everybody. Right? Yeah. Yeah! I'm Ū, dawg. That is a cool name. Is—a cool name *hits blunt* Here, switch me— *rips bong* Is—not—a cool power to have. I bet not, though. You would imagine I wouldn't, that's in—coughs—sane. It is insane: cover your mouth: Sorry. No you're not, So how are you not like— Like what? I'm Ū, there what// So how are you not like— Seth McFarle—uhh Seth McFarlen lol *e What Uh, I am. SETH MCFARLENE No you're not, I'm right here. *suddenly not stoned* What the FUCK man: Woah, Seth McFarlene. HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY OFFICE. I walked in. That's boss status. What the fuck! I locked it! You did not. I walked in—like right behind you guys You probably forgot… You—I forgot— He forgot to lock The Rock lol stop Walk it out, Now walk it out // Walk it like I talk it Talk it like I RUN BITCH RUN FLORIST, RUN!!! Lmfao. Ok. CUT BACK TO: You probably forgot, dude. Alright, Seth McFarlene. Just—*hits blunt* stop talking . Load another bowl Giggity! *passes blunt* You want this? No, I'm straight. Are you, though? What?! Yeah, I'm— I mean, l'm good on the— You know what? Fuck it, gimmie that. Yee. Sauce. [there is a knock at the door] Welp, I gotta go. [Jimmy Fallon is suddenly alone in his office, with a blunt in one hand and a bong in the other. The lights automatically shut off; the coffee maker brings brewing automatically—-three more knocks at the door.] *sighs* [explitive] CUT TO: That fucking rager Is it day?! Is it night?! We don't know! It's been months, probably Weeks, at best— But all we actually know about this time and place is that— The HATTER is here. For fucks SAKE. GIVE ME ANOTHER BEER, SOMEBODY. ANYBODY. lol Johnny Del*. Sure JOHNNY DEPP is drinking Duh *beer?! Uh huh That's all we have, man. *light beers I'MMM BUZZZZZED LIGHTYEAR BUUUUUUUZZXXXED LIGHTYEARR no, Tim Allen, not yet. Fuck, on that note Now I know why THERES A SNAKE IN MY BOOT yeah there is! Ok, ew Ok, gross Stop ew Stop Ew. Cut lil blonde Hot as Finneas O' Connell Possible homosexual, but god love him Cause I'm hungry Lookin for lunch Somebody as scrunches Pull up and crunches Cause my monster is Lookin to Humpty Dumpty Fuck, I forgot Rosie O'Donnal! I cant get no Satiafaftion— The Rolling Stones What's wrong, Saint Jimmy? Luscius? What is it. Precious would like to see you. Oh. The prince Lucius hasn't left his chamber in days—however, as his brother Percius has just returned from war, he quickly emerges from his resting place, an alter of sorts. Damn, I'm getting a headache. I almost never have headaches. It was true, and of course, as I started to write about this prince and his so said brother, Lucius and Perseus, I was reminded once more of Athens, where I had just been however briefly, in a short astral trip of sorts, wandering about in the dreamworld, looking for something or someone in place of my pillow to hold. Did you want to walk to Trader Joe's? I mean, kind of, but no. My muscles were sore and I had just spent some two hours in the gym, not on purpose but quite by accident, though only having run just under two miles, though at least uphill, and spending the rest of the time lifting—I had been bound to mostly beans and rice, and so however was bloated and gassy, quite slow and not as strong, my regular protein just out of reach… Dang. I have so much to fucking so today. I hadn't realized that somehow it was Saturday, although just a couple days before had been a Wednesday that felt like Sunday, and now again time was all out of sorts; it was a “holiday” weekend, and I was without a doubt, drowning in my own having-to-do's, and as such, weekends and days off were entirely not a thing, besides in ways that those bustled around me—and I was sure that some days had been lost, as I was planning to visit the food bank on Friday, but had somehow skipped over the end of the week entirely—somehow, that is, and I was sure sometimes that in skipping days, meditating and fasting about, however intermittently, that time itself shuffled in all the ways I had, between cross dimensions and parallels such as I—I had been hovering somewhere between the 6th and. 10th dimensions, for the most part, and none with having to understand the undoubted shifts in my own perception of time that were bound to happen, as I sprawled across the astral plains looking and searching for a sign that the tragic poverty, restlessness, and lack of peace wound end. Bound to your alter, my dear brother? Aye. So perhaps here there was another unfounded kingdom within the realm of Ascencia—Lucius, a prince, and Percius—seemingly slated the King, and yet I had unreached such a conclusion as to assimilate an entirely factionrd world, as of yet. What did you write last night? Uh…I don't know. Well, let's see Something had shaken me from my almost-sleep, laying sprawled across my bed, in the middle of the mattress, rather than to either side, which was rare; I typically preferred the left side of the mattress, anyway, but as I waited to launder my bedding, after a sweaty and sweltering almost summer day of lounging, smothered in shea butter and lasidasicly scrawling about what recordings had been buried in my phone, between the collection of books I had practically all found in the streets of New York and the rising temperatures of the tepid summer weather, my room was starting to smell funny—and without being able to burn sage anymore, for fear of being thrown back into the streets like a dog, I with every hope in the world figured that washing my thick bedding, comforter included, would restore the crisp and rigid, almost factory clean that I found satisfactory. Songs buzzed in and out of my head as if I hadn't enough already much to do—and still, I added into my growing pile of notes and mounds of work, even more songs—this time, The Rolling Stones. I can't get no Satisfaction… …but I try— —and I try— —and I try— And I try! I can't—get no—! God, I wish I could write something like that. The rock Gods had at the very least been accompanying me, and in a certain sense, so had the Gods at The Rock; I had been forced up out of my dormant state by a voice which urged me away from my near sleep—I had been up since six AM and it was something past midnight, and still the voice said— “Get up and write!” And though I had words tinkering around in my head like little coins in some sort of metal box, none of them quite made so much since that I had to get up and write—however, still the voice, though not angry, but firm, insisted. The voice, for once, sounded female— a welcome change, and though I had become quite fond of males in general, in the solemnly celibate sense, it was a difference and yet none at all— a voice of wisdom had projected itself at me, and as I dragged myself about, reaching for a notebook and flipping through the pages, finding that the notebook was practically full… ‘great, more shit to do' I held the words that had tinkered around in my mind like little whispers until I found a page to make them full formed, and the words which fell into my hand as scriptured by the pen—my favorite writing utensil, nearly out of its cherishable gel ink, danced upon the page nearly on its own, channeling the words written as such: Once prosperous to throw The stone asunder Glisten whispers of water Tears of al tears |ter| Of the altar, For follow for fello, A felon of Antigone Grace, with shield A tattered tail, So flew with feathered Phoenix ? Feared, Foreshadowed not, Agreed upon however, Was the velvet woven path of us, So honored in her fortress . Yeah, something about Rockefeller plaza. Well there were all these hooded figures in like weird, brown velvet robes— That's true, I saw that. Yeah, I was there, You WHAT, Look what I got. Fuck me, man. You know, there's a lot more to this story. I was hoping so, but however also, hoping not. Man, Jimmy fallon's wife is super hot. Gee! Yeah man, she's so cute. W0W. I like her, They're Gods. I think they're Gods. yuh. What else did I write? There was something else? What the fuck is wrong with that guy? Somethin. Yeah. The pages of the notebook were all full, something of a book of shadows and protection spells I had used in an attempt to ward off my ex husband—how of course, that they were done with, I should very well have been jotting them into with all the notes, into the documents—later to burn them, unable to afford the parchment book I wanted. For what a withered wa t would call and honor m for fortunes duty, Glorified wherein in am shadows, Cast upon reflections in redacted incantations and enchantments, foreword come, theone who waits Believing darkness be his fate Whatever, man. Fuck Jimmy Fallon. If you really feel that way! I feel a lot of ways. Well, don't. I'm so, so hungry… So, so lonely… So, so fuckin broke. Man—I learned all this dumb ass magic just to protect myself from this guy, and all this still happens! I think it's just Satan. [Satan Appears] Man— she is JACKED. Try this one. Flllow me, boy! Uh— okay. I'm staying single forever. Don't look at me. That's my girl. Don't look at me. What the fuck. Stop looking at her: Don't look at me! Men are hopeless. Fuck dude, like, the worst thing imaginable is that this Jimmy Fallon dude actually hates me so much for this— What? Uh oh. And is so fucking powerful. He is. A very, very powerful. Well, what is it! We don't— know. *gasps* He's a— SHHHHHH. [Redacted] Well, that's not doing much, is it? Seriously, just kill yourself again. Might have to! Fuck, why do all these robot demons SMELL like him? Satan? Yep. Satan ?! I'm— Seriously, save him. Seriously, God really loves Jimmy Fallon— (He's one of my favorites.) Favorite what's?! Just—favorites. Damn. This is getting to be like Greek Theatre. Great. Now everybody's gonna fucking die. It could be a comedy. Holy shit, yeah— This has mad good production value. I love it! Strange shit I just did give my OWSLA tat a kiss Smile for the camera, Pageantry of mattresses, A master of the MagicIan's chance at Chancellors dance, Look at Harrison trance Can I run a mile for President? A toy chest, A boy, just Obama I'm so much older Been through such trauma What the Willy wonka I should apply for Harvard New York over Boston So Columbia or Juliard I wish Son of a bitch, this is tragic I'm too old for scholarship Diploma's in another name I just got protective orders on I should start over But the world war is another Trump drama My Amazon cart is full of karma What you want from God? A trophy husband, Let's call him Oscar -undefeated. All this is weird I think imm married to the music Think of growing a beard Opening a beer And getting out of here All of my fears is Mommy dearest mommy dearest All of my hell is A body Imm a seed in a forest Been buried Bipolar, Supposedly, So tell me, Faery; How could I love you The way I I do If my mood We're atabilized My blu life Gave me blue eyes Clean tub of water I don't belong here It's too late for me too Swapping Vogue for the People My people who hate me But I been so played, The hatred betrays me I walk both ways Down a one way street {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

‘…is that a threat?' ‘Hm…' If it was, it was at least a good one— I was scared, at first, upon seeing what I had thought to be perhaps a package robbery—but was actually just a slit through the package—a clean slice, more specifically, through the bubble wrapped [Redacted] package, however, its contents still inside; The package had been left underneath another—which didn't belong to me, and though I had been cornered by security more than once at the [Redacted] market, for putting my nutritional needs above that of my morality—or rather, thought my morlity to exclude guilt from the nessecities, especially as I often pondered upon the elite had kept the lower classes in a devolved state by controlling the price of wellness, so much so that it had become impractical for the common being. I had never even thought to swipe someone else's mail—a personal foul, and at least in turn in that matter to all respect with karma, had never had any packages stolen, either—not that I had lived indoors long enough to have warranted that I was safe from what sometimes seemed like the non-human animals, especially of New York City, who crawled about the lower realms littering and taking up precious time, space, and energy—the almost less-than-common man, but still, actually and unfortunately—common, especially in New York. The Sage sticks and palo santo I had ordered were still intact, entirely— to my surprise, and I wondered what else my package might have included, without remembering such. I had become enfuriated with [Redacted], after realizing that there had been hidden charges and unrecognizable fees, on my credit card, of all the places—the Capital One credit card, with sky high interest rates and robotic customer service drones—who I mostly would hate talking to— and it seemed as though the [Redacted] algorithm had become just as predatory as the rest of them—as uncivilized as the trash-dropping, coughing subhumans that plagued the post-pandemic world, if there was such a thing. The overcrowded mess and overall pollution of the city at whole at best made it still acceptable to wear masks in public, to which I took full advantage of doing, as needed—which was as often as possible, actually, if not to hide the curiosities, and of course, the objections to whatever it would be on the train that sparked distaste—worst yet, I might even smile, and reveal my gap-tooth, only acceptable on Hurley models and Madonna, of course—either of whom I wished I was. It was 3:16 AM, and a long lost song found its way into my head as I fettered the words into the document, multitasking a “modest” breakfast as I mulled over the day, most of which I had spent attempting peace and solitude, neither of which actually even seemed attainable in my 3rd floor “office”, being so careful not to consider anything home or a comfort, for the fear that whatever Death curse someone had thought to m destroy me with once would extend into all the years and all the realms of my presence— it was true, as I explained to my aunt, that the people around me had within the last few years turned into demonic and vampiric advocates of what seemed to be the devil itself, were I even holy enough to be considered sacred in such a way that the devil may be chasing me—and I was, in some ways, but not in others—my ability to aggrandize my judgements and flex my morality where needed, but less when wanted as it stood true that I never actually enjoyed immorality—I hated living in a world where one would be made to steal, and made to lie, in order to survive. But that, for 30 years is where I had lived; in, for the most part, an evil world, ruled by man, as he denied and tortured all things that would be thought to be God—in his thirst for whatever it was that had waged a world of war. It seemed as though someone were sending a message, and it had been years since I had felt safe or comfortable anywhere, anyway—so I thought it best not to care, knowing that all in all, that the intentional hurt and harm done to me by any man, or any entity otherwise, would prove to l invoke the karmic justice law unto itself; that whatever pain I experienced would be amplified by its giver, and reflected back—that anyone who intended to hurt or kill me—would only hurt or kill themselves in doing so. At the very least, I was inspired to continue writing the script which I had drifted from entirely—its contents and its driver too mad to be palpable, however—as sometimes this kind of magic did occur in flashes at random, with vivid visions as if I were watching—or even living inside of the scene itself, spoke volumes that it should—or would, whether I wanted it or not, be written eventually. ‘Man, fuck Jimmy Fallon.' I knew nothing of the man at all besides his name and occupation, and that something had plastered him permanently into my mind with some kind of irreparable cement I could not seem to break lose or free from—and it was going to stay that way. The entirety of the festival project and all I had been prompted to have written had become a massive headache. I have a massive headache. UGH. Perhaps it was more multidimensionally attributed to the fact that I had been fawning over affordable razorblazes—I had been almost salivating at the thought of bleeding from my wrists—a constant pressure from the lack of things I wanted and needed piling up at my doorstep, my overdue bills, and the harrowing and what seemed like *manacle. Hm. A maniacle attack on my sanity, not actually practitioned by my abuser, but probably more likely the government, masquerading as such to plot and plan around various secret expirimentation, which would of course within the century become common knowledge, but as for such time we're simply conspiracies, perhaps to hide the shameful loss which was the war being fought with technology—which the dumbing down and brainwashing of millions had left us at an extreme risk, and those were were not at risk, with extreme bias against that which they had no ability or interest to understand. Unremarkably so, I was still astonished that something did indeed seem to have happened—something that was not in my head at all, but rather, very much outside of it—and it was beginning to occur to me that perhaps others had gained an interest in what indeed seemed to be attacking me, for years, by then, with fear, humiliation, and detriment—to which I could only ever think to fight with white magic; there was a controlled chaos to what seemed like my being at a wits end, which I was, but also wasn't—for the most part, at least in public, I could take even the most outrageous offenses poignantly and tactfully, however sometimes realizing that—in Keisha having left her sunglasses behind, she had also left with them a little bit of Harlem— “Move.” The mindless drone controlled robots often stepped directly into my path, as if being driven by some force which was meant to annoy or some other way terrorize me—however, I had grown accustomed to new York's overall rudeness, and had become almost socially inept..speaking of Just—socially unacceptable. What is this?! Gross. What is this?! Papaya juice. Is this a fucking—?! No it's a v8 My G-Wagon! Nice. Got it painted. What color even is that? It's like— mauve. MOVE. FUCKING-A. Jesus Christ. One time, The white devil appeared as a fucked up Edie Falco// And I was so fed up-to-here With The Bullshit, That I didn't even care what happened if I — MOVE OUT OF MY WAY: OR WHAT?! Damn, Mrs. Soprano, you look rough. Are you sure that's not just JACKIE. WHAT. That's the way Uh huh Uh huh I like it Uh huh Uh huh Schools out— Party with my friends! school's out! I'm a genie in a bottle, You gotta rub me the right way! I been too strong, for too long And I can't be without you baby! Is that all of them? Probably not: So mix, then, Probably not. Well Why not?! Because My Serato's been acting horrible. Tommy looked what I would learn to be like a be exact replica of 1988 Tom Cruise. Which reminds me… The 1987 Tom Cruise* is murdered by Supacree's jealous stalker, in a fit of rage, which spirals all known aliases and timelines into a terrible and chaotic nightmare, as Wait, what. I'm just being honest, I don't know how to write this. Here, let me help. YO. wtf. Should have had a V8! SPLASH, BITCH. WHERE's MY SHIIT, JIMMY? It's gone, I broke it. You what. It's missing; I broke it. What do you mean. AHAHA. Oh, I see what you mean, now. Yeah, that guy is different. [The amethyst shatters.] NOH. Woaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa_l GOLD. IT IS GOLDEN. THE ORB. What. The orb. It has chosen you. Uh. Oka. Who the fuck are these creatures—?! “Creetures” I love them. They are darling They are cute. Man, fuck with your bullshit—. —Stay in fucking— Where ever that's at! This is “Queens” Well, it's disgusting. GET LOST. Get lost HOW. Everything's on a grid system! FUCK. I lost it, Damn. Dang. Well, wanna play again? Nah, that's it. What?! Come on. No, seriously. I'm done. Wait, what are you doing? *pulls out rifle* WOAH. WOAH. You should go now. What is that, It's a gun, obviously. What the fuck, man! A rifle, actually, more specifically— What—why—what are you gonna do with that thing? I'm gonna shoot myself: ano— YES. In the head— Don't do that; And you, if you don't get out— Wait! Right now. *aims* Okay! Ah shit, this is getting serious: It s seriously like dick-deep in pussy in here right now. Nay: Maybe we should GO. Hello. M— Maybe we should stay: What! I like her. Get off my property. This is-/ This is MINE. I own this: This one's Mine! Oh, this is what they mean by “ecstatic dance” Actually, my feet are just coldX… Wait, hold on. Before you go off on a tangent about— mm— What is that I don't know what that is. U don't know what it is Look, I wanted that to be Dillon's baby so bad— (So did he) HAHAHAHA. I will end u Oh, baby, there's only one way you could ever do that. Everyone Thrrr she is. She's back! Aaaaaannnyyyeaaaayy— Please explain to us what's happening in this movie. Which movie The Tom Cryise one, Cause there can only be one Tom Cruise one Because Tom cruise is Tom Cruise. Wait. What. TOM HANKS YOU FORGOT MY NAME BRIEfLY YES, but also— That's WHY, this happened. TOM CRUISE I TOLD YOU I TOLD YOU I TOLD YOU-/ You STUPID BITC— Look — I gotta — Oh wait, that still works. What?! You fucked that guy too?! NO. I just. This is a lot of space. Well yeah, we're like—astronauts. How did you get this all in your loft? MAJOR TOM. ALRIGHT. I GOT IT. AHAHAHSJSJHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO MORE ECID. YAYAYAY. Whrrereeeeeeeeeeeeeee Wherereere in my miiiiiiiiind. Fuck I gotta buy that album….again I know I bought it once. dang. Youre cute, I know, huh. Buy me this Ok. [Beyoncé is not yet back with the coffee.] Deja Vu, Beyoncé Uh oh, uh oh— Uh oh! OHNONO ^ Matumbo AIIIIIIIIGGGGGGGHHHHHHH. Crazy in love— also Beyonce? Destiny's ChildrenS HAHAHA OK. FUCK YOU, DILLON FRANCIS. DEADMAU5 IS A WAY BETTER CONTROLLER *HEAPING GASP* YOU—TAKE THAT BACK. I WOULDNT. I will END YOU. YOU CANNOT. Where the fuck is that lady from? Oh, there she is! Pity! Oh dear! She's NEGROID: Shh, tisk-tisk. [ANNE HATHAWAY dabbed tf out.] Come on Annie! Get up! [she is not getting up] THINK OF THE KIDSz *nope* UGH. WASTED. That sucks! We gotta get her back in that princess movie before everything dies and we all collapse! Which princess movie is it?! Idk! Fuck this bitch! She's like all the princesses! KEKE Palmart* Sure! KEKE PALMER will be playing the PRINCESS from princess and the frog Put the princess—IN—the frog! NO. PUT THE PRINCESS IN THE— AGHHHH. PUT DILLON FRANCIS, BACK IN THE OVEN. NO Ugh. He's so heavy! He's not gonna fit. He WILL fit: NO: SAY UNCLE. ASHEJEBEB SAY IT. AAAAANNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKHHHH [a giant Ankh falls from the sky] Yo. That cannot be a good sign. I think it's not. SUBTRONICS *rips bong* Hey! You made it! Way, way late: Nice! Yes. Why are you naked? I don't know. SOLEÏL. Fuck, man. Wizardrddd! What is this game?! I dunno, but I just keep playing it. This shit says. This does say. This shit says ballsacks. I don't get kids these days “Ballsacks” Is that like, a good thing? Depends who's saying NEY-WHINNY-NEY-WHINNY-NEEEE Horse: ok, I win: JOHNNY DEPP literally cannot speak. Because he is not intoxicated. At all. lol someone help him, seriously. Ok, keep going. All the DISNEY CHANNEL KIDS are WILD ‘N OUT Which is ironic because— NICK CANNON Yep, Oh look, it's me again… NICK CANNON Look, the Nickelodeon Cult— What; I mean— The Illuminati just called, They want their stuff back. What STUFF. SAY IT. NEVER THAT. SAY MY NAMEs PASSWORD FALLON, YOU FUCKING HACK. oh, I'm a ‘hack' now that's— “Haha” Who's laughing?! You should be crying right about now. I'm an actor. Very funny. Tears of a clown. Shut up: I am crying, on the inside. -_- Sit down, dipshit: Ooh, now I'm dip— *cocks pistol* Shit, I thought you couldn't— Oh no, this part of the series gets pretty— You're in deep fucking shit; [JIMMY FALLON sits calmly at his desk, he scoops some “sugar” into his coffee and stirs, seemingly emotionless.] CUT TO DANCE BREAK. I wanna hold 'em like they do in Texas, please CUT TO: Texas border patrol holding cell. DIPLO (In a stupid ass cowboy hat) m *jail door slams* AH, COME ON. Fold 'em, let 'em hit me, raise it, baby, stay with me (I love it) I thought it was… “A little gambling is fun when you're with me” (I love it.) Maybe it WAS. What year was that anyway? Idk. What year was any year before [Lyrics Genius] Flashback: The 2000's Rewind it again. What did she just say? Idk. What did he say? Damn. Fuck, I missed it. Love game intuition, play the cards with spades to start THE ACE OF SPAAAAAAADES. Okay. Fine. He wants to be Satan? He's Satan. Yo, that's— SATAN. [Skrillex is Satan] Yeah, but he's so fucking cute. Supacree, what are you doing? BRB, I'm gonna go fuck this lil ass [censored] Damn. Ok. S/he does not fuck around, that guy. Yeah, that guy. And after he's been hooked, I'll play the one that's on his heart I guess we'll just have to… wait till they play it on the radio again… / Wait till the next rave. fuck. MIXTAPES. GETCHUR MIXTAPES. La da da Dee da da duh duhhh La da da Dee da daaaah da duuuuuum La da da da de da La da da da Dee da Da da Dee da da da da dum Okay, Google, let's see what you got. I got—Reddit.. r/NameThatSong 5 yr. ago Surprentis Join Can't figure out this song. Looking for help hey you guys remember that song from back in the day that went "la da dee da da da daaaa, la da dee da da da daaaaa, ah la da dee daaa da la daa dee daaa daa daa dee daa da daaa da daaaaa" i feel like it was on night at the roxbury maybe im wrong.. uh, ok— wtf is “night at the Roxbury” …Google? GOOGLE Here: you'll like this. Oh shit, ‘98 … FINALLY. JESUS CHRIST. Holy shit, you were on SNL in 1998?! Yes. How the fuck old are you? Jesus Christ! JESUS CHRIST …not as old as me. [but everyone's still mad as fuck at Jesus for eating all of the pizza] wtf, man: Just— inhaled it. *gnarf* Actually, you know what: Just stay—celibate: Oh check it out. THIS lady only shows up if I— *squints* if you what: Nothing. Nothing. ANNNNNNNE. GET. UP. She's not gonna go. She's dead bro. I'm not dead! YES! oh! She's up! YES *barfs*! [instantly back asleep] —m— That's it We're fucked. Disney's gonna kill us. The Illuminati's gonna kill us! Disney is the Illuminati. Yeah, but like—for kids. THIS IS NOT FOR KIDS. THIS IS NOT FOR KIDS. KIDS AVERT YOUR EYES, CHILDREN! All sixteen pairs of them! wtf who has that many kids Eight fucking kids, bro. ^_- ok, I like her. Yeesss. Ya. Imm drunk. K. gargle! Nah! GARGLE, RIGHT NOW OR I'll wash your mouth with soap! [pulls gun] THATS NOT SOAP. MY GUN'S NAME IS “SOAP” Shit, why are there so many guns in this shit?! Because Skrillex is like, Cartel, or whatever. And like—the Bloods. ☠️ And the Crips, probably, also— Like I said, He is Satan. GET OVER HERE AND- SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOTTTT: I got nothin. What: I got// Zero scenes You got no scene, broh? No scenes. None? Zip. None? Zero. Woah. Hold up. will— uh— “powers” Ferrel—like an animal that won't shut up, or something? Will bite you—may be rabid— Feral? You mean? Sure; whatever.d Just, stop talking, How the fuck do you do the same movie— like— infinitely. Recap: every will ferret* Sure! EVERY WILL FERRELL MOVIE IS ULTIMATELY... They're all the same movie! GET UP, After waking up in a hungover/still intoxicated rage, Anne Hathaway causes a showdown worthy of historical proportions, which concludes with her legendary “yeet” of a mysterious object of extra planetary origin—this initiates round two of the party which never should have happened, and almost never ended. In another parallel cross dimension: Irl JIMMY FALLON and Ū are imaginary friends; rather, Ū is a figment of JIMMY FALLON's imagination and vice-versa—this scene pays homage to Wilfred; they share stories with one another as they pass the bong/blunt in a solid back-to-back rotation, making the tragic stories they are telling almost hilarious, but only because they are so generously stoned. —_— So wait, he like— *passes blunt* —Here, take this— —Yeah— *passes bong* —Just switch me— Yee. So he like—“yeeted” your baby? He Yeeted my baby. *blowing out, coughing* That's not supposed to happen. No, it is not. Here, switch me. *switch* *rips* *shaking head in stoniness* [beat] So like— *rips bong* —you're like, Ū, so— You're like… I'm like, everybody. Right? Yeah. Yeah! I'm Ū, dawg. That is a cool name. Is—a cool name *hits blunt* Here, switch me— *rips bong* Is—not—a cool power to have. I bet not, though. You would imagine I wouldn't, that's in—coughs—sane. It is insane: cover your mouth: Sorry. No you're not, So how are you not like— Like what? I'm Ū, there what// So how are you not like— Seth McFarle—uhh Seth McFarlen lol *e What Uh, I am. SETH MCFARLENE No you're not, I'm right here. *suddenly not stoned* What the FUCK man: Woah, Seth McFarlene. HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY OFFICE. I walked in. That's boss status. What the fuck! I locked it! You did not. I walked in—like right behind you guys You probably forgot… You—I forgot— He forgot to lock The Rock lol stop Walk it out, Now walk it out // Walk it like I talk it Talk it like I RUN BITCH RUN FLORIST, RUN!!! Lmfao. Ok. CUT BACK TO: You probably forgot, dude. Alright, Seth McFarlene. Just—*hits blunt* stop talking . Load another bowl Giggity! *passes blunt* You want this? No, I'm straight. Are you, though? What?! Yeah, I'm— I mean, l'm good on the— You know what? Fuck it, gimmie that. Yee. Sauce. [there is a knock at the door] Welp, I gotta go. [Jimmy Fallon is suddenly alone in his office, with a blunt in one hand and a bong in the other. The lights automatically shut off; the coffee maker brings brewing automatically—-three more knocks at the door.] *sighs* [explitive] CUT TO: That fucking rager Is it day?! Is it night?! We don't know! It's been months, probably Weeks, at best— But all we actually know about this time and place is that— The HATTER is here. For fucks SAKE. GIVE ME ANOTHER BEER, SOMEBODY. ANYBODY. lol Johnny Del*. Sure JOHNNY DEPP is drinking Duh *beer?! Uh huh That's all we have, man. *light beers I'MMM BUZZZZZED LIGHTYEAR BUUUUUUUZZXXXED LIGHTYEARR no, Tim Allen, not yet. Fuck, on that note Now I know why THERES A SNAKE IN MY BOOT yeah there is! Ok, ew Ok, gross Stop ew Stop Ew. Cut lil blonde Hot as Finneas O' Connell Possible homosexual, but god love him Cause I'm hungry Lookin for lunch Somebody as scrunches Pull up and crunches Cause my monster is Lookin to Humpty Dumpty Fuck, I forgot Rosie O'Donnal! I cant get no Satiafaftion— The Rolling Stones What's wrong, Saint Jimmy? Luscius? What is it. Precious would like to see you. Oh. The prince Lucius hasn't left his chamber in days—however, as his brother Percius has just returned from war, he quickly emerges from his resting place, an alter of sorts. Damn, I'm getting a headache. I almost never have headaches. It was true, and of course, as I started to write about this prince and his so said brother, Lucius and Perseus, I was reminded once more of Athens, where I had just been however briefly, in a short astral trip of sorts, wandering about in the dreamworld, looking for something or someone in place of my pillow to hold. Did you want to walk to Trader Joe's? I mean, kind of, but no. My muscles were sore and I had just spent some two hours in the gym, not on purpose but quite by accident, though only having run just under two miles, though at least uphill, and spending the rest of the time lifting—I had been bound to mostly beans and rice, and so however was bloated and gassy, quite slow and not as strong, my regular protein just out of reach… Dang. I have so much to fucking so today. I hadn't realized that somehow it was Saturday, although just a couple days before had been a Wednesday that felt like Sunday, and now again time was all out of sorts; it was a “holiday” weekend, and I was without a doubt, drowning in my own having-to-do's, and as such, weekends and days off were entirely not a thing, besides in ways that those bustled around me—and I was sure that some days had been lost, as I was planning to visit the food bank on Friday, but had somehow skipped over the end of the week entirely—somehow, that is, and I was sure sometimes that in skipping days, meditating and fasting about, however intermittently, that time itself shuffled in all the ways I had, between cross dimensions and parallels such as I—I had been hovering somewhere between the 6th and. 10th dimensions, for the most part, and none with having to understand the undoubted shifts in my own perception of time that were bound to happen, as I sprawled across the astral plains looking and searching for a sign that the tragic poverty, restlessness, and lack of peace wound end. Bound to your alter, my dear brother? Aye. So perhaps here there was another unfounded kingdom within the realm of Ascencia—Lucius, a prince, and Percius—seemingly slated the King, and yet I had unreached such a conclusion as to assimilate an entirely factionrd world, as of yet. What did you write last night? Uh…I don't know. Well, let's see Something had shaken me from my almost-sleep, laying sprawled across my bed, in the middle of the mattress, rather than to either side, which was rare; I typically preferred the left side of the mattress, anyway, but as I waited to launder my bedding, after a sweaty and sweltering almost summer day of lounging, smothered in shea butter and lasidasicly scrawling about what recordings had been buried in my phone, between the collection of books I had practically all found in the streets of New York and the rising temperatures of the tepid summer weather, my room was starting to smell funny—and without being able to burn sage anymore, for fear of being thrown back into the streets like a dog, I with every hope in the world figured that washing my thick bedding, comforter included, would restore the crisp and rigid, almost factory clean that I found satisfactory. Songs buzzed in and out of my head as if I hadn't enough already much to do—and still, I added into my growing pile of notes and mounds of work, even more songs—this time, The Rolling Stones. I can't get no Satisfaction… …but I try— —and I try— —and I try— And I try! I can't—get no—! God, I wish I could write something like that. The rock Gods had at the very least been accompanying me, and in a certain sense, so had the Gods at The Rock; I had been forced up out of my dormant state by a voice which urged me away from my near sleep—I had been up since six AM and it was something past midnight, and still the voice said— “Get up and write!” And though I had words tinkering around in my head like little coins in some sort of metal box, none of them quite made so much since that I had to get up and write—however, still the voice, though not angry, but firm, insisted. The voice, for once, sounded female— a welcome change, and though I had become quite fond of males in general, in the solemnly celibate sense, it was a difference and yet none at all— a voice of wisdom had projected itself at me, and as I dragged myself about, reaching for a notebook and flipping through the pages, finding that the notebook was practically full… ‘great, more shit to do' I held the words that had tinkered around in my mind like little whispers until I found a page to make them full formed, and the words which fell into my hand as scriptured by the pen—my favorite writing utensil, nearly out of its cherishable gel ink, danced upon the page nearly on its own, channeling the words written as such: Once prosperous to throw The stone asunder Glisten whispers of water Tears of al tears |ter| Of the altar, For follow for fello, A felon of Antigone Grace, with shield A tattered tail, So flew with feathered Phoenix ? Feared, Foreshadowed not, Agreed upon however, Was the velvet woven path of us, So honored in her fortress . Yeah, something about Rockefeller plaza. Well there were all these hooded figures in like weird, brown velvet robes— That's true, I saw that. Yeah, I was there, You WHAT, Look what I got. Fuck me, man. You know, there's a lot more to this story. I was hoping so, but however also, hoping not. Man, Jimmy fallon's wife is super hot. Gee! Yeah man, she's so cute. W0W. I like her, They're Gods. I think they're Gods. yuh. What else did I write? There was something else? What the fuck is wrong with that guy? Somethin. Yeah. The pages of the notebook were all full, something of a book of shadows and protection spells I had used in an attempt to ward off my ex husband—how of course, that they were done with, I should very well have been jotting them into with all the notes, into the documents—later to burn them, unable to afford the parchment book I wanted. For what a withered wa t would call and honor m for fortunes duty, Glorified wherein in am shadows, Cast upon reflections in redacted incantations and enchantments, foreword come, theone who waits Believing darkness be his fate Whatever, man. Fuck Jimmy Fallon. If you really feel that way! I feel a lot of ways. Well, don't. I'm so, so hungry… So, so lonely… So, so fuckin broke. Man—I learned all this dumb ass magic just to protect myself from this guy, and all this still happens! I think it's just Satan. [Satan Appears] Man— she is JACKED. Try this one. Flllow me, boy! Uh— okay. I'm staying single forever. Don't look at me. That's my girl. Don't look at me. What the fuck. Stop looking at her: Don't look at me! Men are hopeless. Fuck dude, like, the worst thing imaginable is that this Jimmy Fallon dude actually hates me so much for this— What? Uh oh. And is so fucking powerful. He is. A very, very powerful. Well, what is it! We don't— know. *gasps* He's a— SHHHHHH. [Redacted] Well, that's not doing much, is it? Seriously, just kill yourself again. Might have to! Fuck, why do all these robot demons SMELL like him? Satan? Yep. Satan ?! I'm— Seriously, save him. Seriously, God really loves Jimmy Fallon— (He's one of my favorites.) Favorite what's?! Just—favorites. Damn. This is getting to be like Greek Theatre. Great. Now everybody's gonna fucking die. It could be a comedy. Holy shit, yeah— This has mad good production value. I love it! Strange shit I just did give my OWSLA tat a kiss Smile for the camera, Pageantry of mattresses, A master of the MagicIan's chance at Chancellors dance, Look at Harrison trance Can I run a mile for President? A toy chest, A boy, just Obama I'm so much older Been through such trauma What the Willy wonka I should apply for Harvard New York over Boston So Columbia or Juliard I wish Son of a bitch, this is tragic I'm too old for scholarship Diploma's in another name I just got protective orders on I should start over But the world war is another Trump drama My Amazon cart is full of karma What you want from God? A trophy husband, Let's call him Oscar -undefeated. All this is weird I think imm married to the music Think of growing a beard Opening a beer And getting out of here All of my fears is Mommy dearest mommy dearest All of my hell is A body Imm a seed in a forest Been buried Bipolar, Supposedly, So tell me, Faery; How could I love you The way I I do If my mood We're atabilized My blu life Gave me blue eyes Clean tub of water I don't belong here It's too late for me too Swapping Vogue for the People My people who hate me But I been so played, The hatred betrays me I walk both ways Down a one way street {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

Welcome Back, Today we sit down with an old fishing buddy of mine Loren Ferrel. Loren is a weekend warrior that loves getting out on the water. We talk about boat fires, bachelor parties and adventures we have had! If you need a custom backyard or home renovation check out his website. https://www.richardferreldesigns.com/ Best, Drew

In this episode host Steve Anderson presents the account of BMM's first and only martyr, Irene Ferrel, and the events that became known as Black Friday in the Congo. It is a story of God's grace, comfort, and provision in the midst of the horrors of rebel activity that precipitated an attempted communist takeover of the recently independent Republic of the Congo. 

Its been 20 years since Love Actually (2003) and Elf (2003) were originally released. One has become a holiday classic, while the other has begun to fade away. So we thought we would discuss the lives of these films with two friends of the pod, Matthew Klara and Max Wastler. A friendship that was generated by a love for these films. These season is all around us, so listen and push us to the Holiday #1 spot.Subscribe, rate, and review:Apple Podcasts: Our Film FathersSpotify: Our Film FathersGoogle Podcasts: Our Film Fathers---------------------------------------------Follow Us:Instagram: @ourfilmfathersTwitter: @ourfilmfathersEmail: ourfilmfathers@gmail.com

Jeff talks safety this holiday season with Jessica Jackson with the Gallatin Police dept. and we catch up with Senator Ferrel haile.

In this episode of The Integrated Life podcast, Diana has her special guest, Ferrel Fellows, Real Estate Broker, Developer, Coach, and Author of We Must Own. Ferrel tells her story of how she got started in real estate and about how lives can be changed and legacies built by owning property. Her testimony is powerful. She is a woman of the Word and puts her faith into action.   Join us to learn how to possess your land!!   Ferrel Fellows Contact Information:   Kingdom Legacy Company info@KingdomLegacyCompany.com    Contact Us: www.KingdomLegacyCompany.com  Order My Book: http://wemustown.com/  New Investor Training: http://commaclubcommunity.com/  Book for Speaking Opportunities: http://ferrellfellows.com/    Connect with Diana: integratedpurposemanagement.com Like us on Facebook Follow us on LinkedIn   Quick Episode Summary: Introduction to show and special guest Ferrel Fellows Ferrel shares about her business, Kingdom Legacy, and her passion for real estate  Ferrel shares what took her in the direction of real estate  The importance of developing skills and allowing God to shape us over time  Ferrel talks about the different ways that you can get into investing in real estate  Ferrel gives the meaning behind her book, We Must Own  Ferrel shares her passion and calling to restore homes and restore people  Ferrel's obedience to God brought favor to her business  How to get a copy of Ferrel's book as well as her classes and other resources  The importance of learning how and where money is invested  How do we break past the limitations that we've put on ourselves that were not meant to be there? Ferrel shares about how she has made her job a ministry and how God has impacted people   

Good Brews Bad Views says goodbye to modern day amenities and heads to an age of darkness, aka 2009, for the Will Ferrel helmed  Land of the Lost adaptation. Friend of the show DuJuan returns to the podcast as Max, Ryan, and James try to determine if they have to revoke the Guest's Privilege for the first time. Free yourself from the temporal crystal prison and reach 1:37:00 as the podcast wraps up this journey through time and space along with the accompanying beer, the big reveal of why this movie was chosen, Ferrel's career trajectory, and his style of humor's effect on the Lexicon.Check Out DuJuan on YouTube on Day One Reacts, and the movie he wrote Stay In Your Place.Like what we're doing? Want to choose future episodes? Check out our Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/goodbrewsbadviewsOpening theme: Tha Silent Partner – Prohibition Brew and Pork Chops

After a successful episode last year, we make our return to Soundtrack September. This time, we picked classic films like Footloose (1984), A Night at the Roxbury (1998) and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010). These soundtracks are solid reflections of the filmmaker's vision and design of the movie. Except for the one that is just a one-trick pony, that you are hoping doesn't hurt you from overuse. Listen and let us know what you think.Subscribe, rate and review:Apple Podcasts: Our Film FathersSpotify: Our Film FathersGoogle Podcasts: Our Film FathersStitcher: Our Film FathersAmazon Music: Our Film Fathers-----------------------Follow us:Instagram: @ourfilmfathersTwitter: @ourfilmfathersEmail: ourfilmfathers@gmail.com

Join today as we dive deep into the world of Microsoft with Sean Ferrel of Managed Solution. We talk licensing, Azure, desktop, Azure CoPilot, and more. Sean does a great job breaking down where partners can help, common misconceptions, and how some accounts just continue to grow with all the different products Microsoft has available and Managed Solution has expertise in! Josh Lupresto: [00:00:00] Welcome to the podcast that's designed to fuel your success in selling technology solutions. I'm your host, Josh Lupresto, SVP of Sales Engineering at Telarus, and this is next level BizTech. Hey everybody. Welcome back to another episode. Today we're talking about cloud, we're talking about Microsoft. We're talking licensing, security, infrastructure. As much as we can possibly pack into 30 minutes to do this today though, we have on Sean Ferrell, founder and chairman of Managed Solution, who you may know in the Telarus portfolio. Sean, welcome on man. Sean Ferrel: Oh, Josh, thanks for having me. Pleasure to be here. I'm excited to give any advice. I can Josh Lupresto: love it. Let's, let's talk about, let's talk about you first. I want to hear about your journey. Did you always start out in tech? How did you found this company? How did we get from, from nothing to to here. Sean Ferrel: God, 20 years. We'll just start there. It's, it's, I'm getting old. I wouldn't say the [00:01:00] company's getting old. I'm getting old. But I was, I came to San Diego and yeah, I love tech, but I actually love the business side of running a services organization first. So it was outta school. I mean, I started at, you know, grassroots, living in a dorm, to be honest. And so 20 years later I'll, I'll call it a lot of different evolutions of the company, you know, in, in short kind of hitch star wagon, as if you will. I had to look at what was happening in the world with, with the big guys, Microsoft, with what was happening with the consumer, with Amazon and what was happening with search with Google. And in the end, when it came to tech, we sort of said, we feel like Microsoft's doing a great job. So fast forward, you know, 2023, you know, we're what's called a highly specialized Microsoft partner. They kind of did away with this concept of gold and. You know, we have to carry thousands of certified people, or I should say certifications within engineering. And and it's been a fun journey. I mean, at the end of the day, you know, we're kind of tag lining this thing. Like we want technology to have a positive social impact. 'cause a lot of it doesn't. And so whatever that might be, [00:02:00] if it's gonna help a human being, you know, we're here to help him. Love it. Josh Lupresto: Love it. So, so break it down for, for, for anybody that is not familiar with Managed solution. Talk about what you're doing, what your focus is, and we'll get into to some of the weeds here in a minute. But, but break it down at a high level first. Sean Ferrel: Yeah. I mean, so there's, there, just think about it. Simply put, you've got two businesses within one organization or across the country. So we own a US based help desk, a true 24 hour a day. Level one, level two, level three, very technical help desk. We can work directly with suppliers or, or I guess manufacturers like Microsoft and Amazon and some of our partners. But it's, that's, that's one thing we do. And we do it for a lot of companies. Typically, you know, mid-market, a hundred employees and more. But we have a lot of s m B accounts that we deal with, and we do it within the channel. The other side of that is, you know, for better, you know, sake of consulting, we work with Microsoft directly, so there's 500,000 Microsoft partners in the world, Josh, and in that we're in the top 132 I think this year. So it's pretty [00:03:00] special. So you combine those two things and really, you know,

FWR009 : FERREL (JUAREZ).The world Is yours.

Jermaine Ferrel WFXR Sports Director by Ed Lane

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How can you catch a stray cat? Should we? It is cold out and we worry about her.Mae calling about a Rottweiler named Dirk. He is eating underpants. What's up with that? Tiger behaving badly. Not really, just being a tiger and did what tigers do in the San Francisco Zoo. 3 people were killed by the Tiger, but they were taunting it. National Animal - Animal NewsBad Animal JokeGot a pair of pups. They are really doing odd things should we narrow it down to one. Rewind back to Sunday 1-6-2008 Hour 2In the episode you will hearJamieBradDonnaWearing Funny Amazing fun pet parent t-shirtshttps://wearingfunny.com/product-category/pets/https://linktr.ee/animaltalkradioAnimal Talk, it's America's Pet Show!Jamie Flanagan@DJJamieDetroitAnimalTalkRadio.com@AnimalTalkRadioThanks for listening and as always... Have an exotic week and kiss your wild thing for me.Send your pet photos in now and we will add your fur kids to the #PetParade. jamie@animaltalkradio.com

In this episode of the Indiana Pioneer Agronomy podcast, hosts Carl Joern and Brian Shrader discuss cold weather agronomy with Pioneer Product Agronomist Andrew Ferrel. The trio provides tips for dealing with crops during the cold spring. They also talk about Andrew's journey to becoming a Pioneer Agronomist.

In this week's In The Current,  the crew is around the table and gearing up for fishing.  We get some updates from Brad, try a new hot sauce, get flintlock updates from Spittle, and hear about his Wild Game Dinner.  Cody's got his daughter ready for archery, & Will has a tricky experience.  Check it out!!  Instagram: @rutandriverpursuits For more In The Currents go to https://rutandriverpursuits.com/ 

This week's guest is Luke Ferrel. Luke is current the Sr. Director of Customer Success at Outreach. This conversation was held on Lantern's “Keeping The Lights On” LinkedIn Live show just a few short weeks ago. In this conversation, we discussed: Breaking Down Careers in Customer Success Growth of Scaling CS Importance of CS + Support Relationship From Cost Center To Revenue Generator Much More! Enjoy this very special episode of The 20% Podcast with Luke Ferrel. ____________________________________________________________________________ I am now in the early stages of writing my first book! In this book, I will be telling my story of getting into sales and the lessons I have learned so far, and intertwine stories, tips, and advice from the Top Sales Professionals In The World! As a first time author, I want to share these interviews with you all, and take you on this book writing journey with me! Like the show? Subscribe to the email: https://mailchi.mp/a71e58dacffb/welcome-to-the-20-podcast-community I want your feedback! Reach out to 20percentpodcastquestions@gmail.com, or find me on LinkedIn.

Who doesn't like listening to music!! Music has helped many people and inspired others to do music, on this episode we will be speaking about the songs that inspired us into the person that we are today. So excited to announce our two guest stars! Elijah and Ferrel. Our guest stars will be joining us in our new episode and we hope to create a part 2 because there is just so much to say and 30 mins. doesn't cut it for us. So sit back and grab something to drink or eat and listen to the sounds of music in episode 21. Social Media: @Lisette.Nerveli//@Lissycreates.art @Lyvette.Netis//@Rizosconcorazon @Elijahnunez @Pabloferrel_ TikTok @AfroHermanas --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/afro-hermanas/support

Chris, Dan, and EV talk about the Devil's recent loss to the Bruins as well as the HHHat trick win vs. the Penguins. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

On Christmas Eve, Ferrel, the big fat cat, was busy in the kitchen making a gingerbread house.

Episode: 2421 William Ferrel: a story of genius, geophysics and coincidence.  Today, serendipity in the whirlwind.

Episode: 2421 William Ferrel: a story of genius, geophysics and coincidence.  Today, serendipity in the whirlwind.

Squeak, the oldest mouse, patted his younger brother Pip.

One day, the three mice were playing hide and seek at their house. Suddenly, rumble! They were scared half to death.

The three mice were playing in the grass by the river. Suddenly, Pip, the youngest mouse, saw something interesting.

Spooky Season (Twisted Teacher style) continues. Kim talks about vampire lore from around the world. Then she tells the terrifying story of Rod Ferrell who was a vampire cult leader and a murderer. Jen tells the story of the Gainesville Ripper and how he inspired the movie Scream. She also remembers living close by at that time and the fear that took over the area with the killer was on the loose. Vampire Book Series Referenced:Sookie StackhouseAnita Blake-Vampire HunterKenyon-Dark Hunter SeriesSources:https://www.ranker.com/list/rod-ferrell-facts/nathan-gibsonhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EcRwD1yWA2Yhttps://www.history.com/topics/folklore/vampire-historyhttps://www.livescience.com/24374-vampires-real-history.htmlhttps://www.esquire.com/entertainment/movies/a23515967/halloween-movie-michael-myers-true-story/https://allthatsinteresting.com/danny-rolling-gainesville-ripperhttps://www.shreveporttimes.com/story/news/crime/2019/11/08/grissom-family-murders-shreveport-louisiana-gainesville-murders/4157607002/wisted Teachers Podcast wants to hear from you!Website-Twistedteacherspodcast.comLINKTREE :https://linktr.ee/twistedteacherContact us via email: Twistedteachers2@gmail.comInstagram: @twisted__teacher; @inked_educator68Tik Tok: @inkededucator @teacherwholeftFacebook: @TwistedTeacher

The Star Report

Meet Sean Ferrel, Founder and CEO of MANAGED SOLUTION on their managed IT services for major corporations.  And how this son of Panamanian immigrants grew up Riverside, landed a scholarship to UC San Diego playing baseball (just like his grandfather did in Panama's professional baseball league).  And came out of college swinging, hitting a home run as he grew his one-man enterprise into multi-million dollar company. And how he continues to give back to OUR COMMUNITY to this day (donating computers to foster kids and mentoring others).

Meet Sean Ferrel, Founder and CEO of MANAGED SOLUTION on their managed IT services for major corporations.  And how this son of Panamanian immigrants grew up Riverside, landed a scholarship to UC San Diego playing baseball (just like his grandfather did in Panama's professional baseball league).  And came out of college swinging, hitting a home run as he grew his one-man enterprise into multi-million dollar company. And how he continues to give back to OUR COMMUNITY to this day (donating computers to foster kids and mentoring others).

Like Catholicism itself, Catholic femininity upholds objective truths while acknowledging realities and exceptions. I speak with Ferrell, a femininity content creator who is in the process of converting to Catholicism. I'll be interrogating her on her new-ager past, her conversion, the similarities between New Age and Protestantism, objective definitions, and femininity. Ferrell's Instagram: @feminineferrell https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCkSepqCr8sjePsQQHyYWl5Q/videos 00:00 Intro 04:10 New Age to Catholicism 19:36 Protestantism vs. New Age 24:42 Experience with Protestantism 26:37 Too many voices online 32:45 Gabriel's advice for converts 38:00 Protestant Subjectivity 42:31 Objective morality & definitions 47:15 What women want 58:00 Disappearing femininity 1:10:00 Who should pay 1:13:00 Women going to college 1:21:34 Andrew Tate 1:26:00 Ferrel's course

Topics:   (5:14) - Matt & Ben's friendship origin   (8:42) - Starting Texts From Last Night   (18:17) - Matt's early career with Google, Coachella & Lafayette American   (43:33) - Mille Mitten   (58:34) - Tik Tok, Ads and Algorithms   (1:06:55) - Elon Musk & Twitter   (1:15:38) - Fixing Movie Theaters & car charging infrastructure   (1:38:07) - Fixing conferences   (1:50:50) - Exercise: Rebranding the podcast   Links:   Texts from Last Night   Lafayette American   TickPick   Mille Mitten   Mil-Spec Automotive   Alamo Drafthouse   To support this costs of producing this podcast:  >> Buy a copy of the Navalmanak: www.navalmanack.com/  >> Sign up for my online course and community about building your Personal Leverage: https://www.ejorgenson.com/leverage  >> Invest in early-stage companies alongside Eric and his partners at Rolling Fun: https://angel.co/v/back/rolling-fun >> Join the free weekly email list at ejorgenson.com/newsletter >> Text the podcast to a friend >> Give the podcast a positive review to help us reach new listeners  >> Name-your-price subscription monthly, annual, or one-time: https://app.omella.com/o/9Bufa  >> Follow me on Twitter: @ericjorgenson >> Get in touch about sponsoring this podcast by replying to an email or DMing me on Twitter.

- To try some Magic Mind for yourself www.magicmind.co/uum promo code "UUM20" - Check out our podcast merch: https://teespring.com/stores/uum-store - Dancing with Ghosts MUSIC ONLY YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-_Fp5xMRz6v9aLahw-tYQw ------------------------------- On this week's episode Josh and Mike discuss what happens when you hang out with a bunch of virgins. The "Kentucky Teenage Vampires" documentary tells the story of the brutal murders perpetrated by Rod Ferrel. Rod was part of a small sect in Murray, Kentucky known as a "vampire cult". It includes all the good stuff such as LARPing, bloodsucking, and being overall very cringey. Rod was a little too extreme for this group though and ended up going out on his own and murdering a girl's family because she told him to. It's a rabbit hole for sure ... let's get ready to go down it together! ------------------------------- Uncovering Unexplained Mysteries on Social Media: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/uncoveringunexplainedmysteries Twitter: https://twitter.com/UncoveringUm Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1918785078407664/ ------------------------------- For more Mike & Josh, check out their YouTube channels! Josh: www.youtube.com/dancingwithghosts Mike: www.youtube.com/OCPCommunications

Edição de 13 de Junho 2022

Hour 4: The 9am hour starts with a recap of last night's Rangers Game 1 OT loss to the Hurricanes. Max Scherzer pulled himself out of last night's game with a side injury. MRI is coming today. Jerry returns for an update but first Boomer says Gio is starting to become obsessed with the PGA Championship. Jerry is not feeling well and is working from home. He sounds terrible. The Rangers lost Game 1 in OT last night to the Hurricanes. The Mets beat the Cardinals but Max Scherzer pulled himself from the game with a side injury. The Yankees beat the Orioles again, scoring 2 runs on a wild pitch. Gerrit Cole also pitched really well again. Jerry goes around the NBA from last night's playoff games. In the final segment of the show, Gio says there are plenty of Will Ferrel movies that are not funny. Boomer saw all of his co-workers from the NFL Today yesterday. Tony Romo was all over the place and Gio says Phil Simms wore white shoes ‘like a nurse would wear'.

Sean founded Managed Solution in 2002, after receiving his degree from the University of San Diego, because he believed there was a better way to provide IT talent to help businesses with their exponential growth of data, technology needs and business challenges as it relates to IT. Sean is equally passionate about both people and technology, and truly believes it's about finding the right people to empower the right technology solutions that can take your business to where it needs to go. When Sean isn't discussing business objectives or learning about the latest and greatest technology, he enjoys travelling, spending time with his family, and fishing. In this episode, we discuss: ·      The social impact of the internet ·      Putting yourself in other people's shoes to better serve them ·      Access to data as critical to success ·      Creating a roadmap to success through a technological lens ·      How IT can improve customer experience ·      Finding the right tool to solve the problems that need solving   I hope you will find this episode as exciting and informative as I have. Sean was so generous to share his better business practices regarding how technology can help your business.   Please let me know your thoughts!   Connect with Sean Ferrel: Website: www.managedsolution.com Managed Solution LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/company/managedsolution Sean's LinkedIn:  https://www.linkedin.com/in/sean-ferrel-6427a45/       Connect with Steve Eschbach Websites: https://www.tworld.com/locations/naperville/ https://eschbachassoc.com/  YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCWqgICqaSI8xE2GRYY1HWJA  LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/speschbach/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/steveeschbach/  Twitter: @ SteveEschbach     Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

We don't want no scrubs, so we hung out with The Other Guys (2010) and The Nice Guys (2016). It was good to be spend time with likable detectives, who may not always have the right plan, but get the job done. Both of these movies deserve more shine than they get, so chase that waterfall with us.Subscribe, rate and review:Apple Podcasts: Our Film FathersSpotify: Our Film FathersGoogle Podcasts: Our Film FathersStitcher: Our Film FathersAmazon Music: Our Film Fathers-----------------------Follow us:Instagram: @ourfilmfathersTwitter: @ourfilmfathersEmail: ourfilmfathers@gmail.com

We REALLY got of the rails on this one. We talked about everything from fear factor to 20 Bison. P.S. Don't forget to drink Mt. Dew for XP! Huge thanks to Brooks Barron, Landon Roach, and Kierston Delk.