Podcasts about Fore

Today our guest is Chris Fore, Principal at Mojave High School, in Hesperia, CA. We talk with Chris about why it is important and how it is guiding his work everyday. He shares how creating high-accountability meetings with parents and teachers led to a nearly 60% reduction in failure rates. Chris also highlights the impact that "flipping the script" on parent communication has as he has celebrated individual student wins with positive phone calls home. Learn More About CharacterStrong:  Access FREE MTSS Curriculum Samples Request a Quote Today! Learn more about CharacterStrong Implementation Support Visit the CharacterStrong Website   Chris Fore is the Principal at Mojave High School, a 2025 California Department of Education Model Continuation School. Fore coached high school football for sixteen years (eight as a Head Varsity Coach) and Junior College football for one. He spent six years as an Athletic Director where both schools set the school record for the most Championships won in one year; both stand to this day. (One was set in 2010, the other in 2013.) He has also served as the Administrator supervising athletics and the Athletic Director for 4.5 years. His education includes: a Master's degree in Coaching and Athletic Administration, an Administrative Services Credential (CA), Education Specialist Credential (CA), and a Bachelor's degree in Religious Studies.

In Episode 33, Parker and Ryan chat with Ryan Carey, Founder and President of Golden Age Auctions. You may have heard of Golden Age Auctions from their sale of Horton Smith's Green Jacket, or perhaps Tiger Woods' Tiger Slam irons, or maybe the Jack Nicklaus Andy Warhol painting. For anyone in the golf memorabilia world, you have likely crossed paths with Golden Age and their team. Ryan details company history, his personal grail and several things in between. We hope you enjoy!

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.auTo reach out to Nancy go to @nancy_evans_coaching on Insta Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Wir wünschen Euch heute schonmal frohe Weihnachten und dass ihr schöne Golf-Geschenke unterm Baum liegen habt oder auf dem Platz das ein oder andere Geschenk einlocht. Ansonsten wie immer 3 Fragen an den Pro, Social-Media Fund der Woche und Kommentare von Golfbuddies. Wir lieben Euch, wünschen wenig FORE und viele Vogelarten - Ho Ho Hole in One!

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.auTo reach out to Emma go to https://www.hoperisingcoaching.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.auTo reach out to Deb to to insta @alcoholtippingpoint Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.auTo reach out to Ben go to https://benschillerpsychology.com.au Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

"The Sandman" a.k.a. the unstoppable legend Adam Sandler, drives a golf-ball right onto the SmartLess fairway and we all take a ride on the cart of life through blackout nerves, comfort-zones vs. ambition, the importance of family, and the nuances of the comedy brain. Fore!This episode was originally released on 10/12/2020. Subscribe to SiriusXM Podcasts+ to listen to new episodes of SmartLess ad-free and a whole week early. Start a free trial now on Apple Podcasts or by visiting siriusxm.com/podcastsplus. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.auTo reach out to Greg go to the @boozefreedad on insta Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

OBI's Executive Director of the Oklahoma City Region, Jake Cleveland, joins us this month to talk about Our Blood Institute and it's connection to the Norman community and Oklahoma at large! Fore information about Our Blood Institute, visit OurBloodInstitute.org For more information about the City of Norman, visit www.NormanOK.gov Questions or comments about the podcast can be emailed to PublicAffairs@NormanOK.gov Twitter - @cityofnormanok Instagram - @thecityofnorman Facebook YouTube

Schedule Notice: Tangletongue's laptop is dying, but valiantly fought to let her edit episode 338. We are working on a solution to avoid any delays. We will keep folks posted on our social media.Tallpaw doubts himself and regrets it fully. Tangletongue wishes ill on a clan cat and regrets it halfly. Book: Super Edition: Tallstar's Revenge Support us on Ko-fi! WCWITCast Ko-fiFollow us on BlueSky! WCWITCastFollow us on Instagram! WCWITCastCat Fact Sources:Thailand's cat breeds get official national status, but will it improve animal welfare? - CNACabinet Approves Designation of Thai Cats as National IdentityTypes of Thai CatsSuphalak - WikipediaKorat - WikipediaSiamese cat - WikipediaKhao Manee - WikipediaMusic:Happy Boy End Theme Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/This transformative podcast work constitutes a fair-use of any copyrighted material as provided for in section 107 of the US copyright law. Warrior Cats: What is That? is not endorsed or supported by Harper Collins and/or Working Partners. All views are our own.

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.auTo find out more about Seana or her book go to https://seanasmith.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In Episode 32, Ryan and Parker chat with Connor T. Lewis, Founder/CEO of The Society of Golf Historians. Connor is truly a fountian of knowledge and has some wonderful stories. His “Golffice” has become quite legendary and is spoken about just enough here to give a glimpse into the tales and artifacts that call it home. We hope you enjoy the episode, and we'll be back next week!

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.au Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.In this episode, I catch up with my friend and fellow sober coach Kath Elliot to discuss the challenges of navigating sobriety during the silly season, particularly the pressure to be the 'fun one' in social situations.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.auYou can find Kath at https://www.thealcoholmindsetcoach.com. She's pretty fun! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.au Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.au Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.This episode with Chris is based around navigating travel and keep yourself regulated. When we are regulated, we are more resilient, we make better choices.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.au Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Commercial photography with Patrick Fore, the Terrible Photographer, and Negotiating the Emotional and Psychological Landscape of Professional Photography.Patrick Fore is a commercial photographer and art director from San Diego, California. He spent four years as the lead photographer and brand designer for Taylor Guitars and now runs his own commercial photography studio.He's also the host of the Terrible Photographer podcast, where he talks about photography, creativity, and the struggles of being a pro.Notable Links:Patrick Fore PhotographyThe Terrible PhotographerPatrick Fore Instagram*****This episode is brought to you by Luminar Neo, an AI powered photo editor.Try Luminar Neo today at skylum.com, and use promo code "RICHARD" for a 15% discount, just for my listeners.*****This episode is brought to you by Kase Revolution Plus Filters. I travel the world with my camera, and I can use any photography filters I like, and I've tried all of them, but in recent years I've landed on Kase Filters.Kase filters are made with premium materials, HD optical glass, shockproof, Ultra-Low Reflectivity, zero color cast, round and square filter designs, magnetic systems, filter holders, adapters, step-up rings, and everything I need so I never miss a moment.And now, my listeners can get 10% off the Kase Filters Amazon page when they visit. beyondthelens.fm/kase and use coupon code BERNABE10Kase Filters, Capture with Confidence.

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.auI loved this chat with my good friend Sam Brown @soulfullifestyleSam also takes us through a simple but very effective practice to regulate and ground the system.To find out more about Sam and her offerings head to https://thesoulfullifestyle.com.au/ Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Who left a whole box of corn flakes In a locker At the Equinox On Wall Street? I told you go to the one at The Rock. I told you, I'm not going on that block, like at all. {Enter The Multiverse} That's just my Karma, Ms. Nancy; I did a whole lot than just Thought about it More edits, More recognition that I—l couldn't stand it; The planet just seems to get smaller and smaller With less and less plants in it; I have your pants on, But shoes didn't fit I wrote a whole book and resenting But still not the movies, I meant it. Damn. She's just so much better than I am Head in a frying pan on high beforehand, And however damaged, It felt bad I know what I did I felt that Camera Obscura, for sure, you know But disconnect, Swallow badders, wha— t?! Get my peanut butter up; Why! I'm a circus monkey; Damn. I got karma faster Than I should have known I lost episodes And threw away the whole entire show I went running long And then I threw up on the subway I only like the one Sublime album (The one with wrong way.) You know? Cuh' I went the wrong way I fucked up on all my dollars I got karma back hard, yah Got a poem or prose or song on ol' Ms. Molly, too, (or two) I fall in love inside the tube, Truth is, though Teletubbies and teleportation Ain't so far off from where I come from Problem is, Opporsite world, I'm the story of the whole show; For sure dawg. —a situational Thought process. When the crack finally kicks in, Astounding the loss of my confidence I've gotten lost in a toxic land I got syndrome “talk to much” Not on the spectrum, nor diagnosable X's and O's on the tic tac toe board, Just an underhanded “I told you so” All the rockstars want —Subtle thoughts of suicide as the train approaches? Nah, Models and the other types of girls That never work at all, They just born at it. I got bored with it, But not the fourth one, Cross my first amendment, On my heart like catholic More like Bart Simpsons, Like art magic Cause I won't watch that show But love Matt Groening— Maybe I'm the type that just Love hating But hate loving with No way to I don't hate you; Yeah you're right, I'm off Take two. ((Good Luck Riding The J Home.)) Not a gym run, a different kind of cause, I guess I got so many plausible options, I guess I should call on one of them, Toss a number up, struck the dog on mathematics I can't let my lantern out of gas, We're not friends, are we? What a fiend! Are you offended? I just want to see my dreams relayed to me— Is that too much to ask? So I'm the asshole. What did I pack a bag for?! Picnic baskets. What did I leave this curse for? Nothing, Thanks for asking, Nance. I put a pilot on the presence of a whole color— phenomenon. I swallowed all my pride and presence just for an automaton. This automation algorithm— is it? Doesn't make a difference. I spilled blood inside my kitchen, Put deposits on a flicker, Tricked the treasure at a phantom, Phantom I want more but swallowed all my high pulp orange juice on knowledge of the only one; There's only God, There's only us— There's only cause+ effect, 6 more albums, note books and a couple novels that came out of that one. Squeeze em hard, ya'll. Don't let me love God. Don't let me talk back, I'm not about a rack. Tantrum, yes. Talk to my God. Please. Talk to me God. Now. Talk to my family one time. Now. Talk out me sideways— Now. Bring me a rebel. Now. I have a headache. Now. I got regrets son. Now I got a dead son, a dead daughter a ghost cat and George Jettson, Michael Jackson and George Zimmerman, all of my tabs open: I take a tab hoping I fall asleep on the cold ocean, Calm before storm comes Out on a surfboard Look at the full moon— Nobody can hear you so SCREAM. Now. For crying out loud, Take the knife out, For a second or thought, I'm a wife now; What back handed thought or a back and on blacklist— Your back room was only your conscious— Now I'm looking at my left side, Also catatonic, Not aboard the problem like you wanted, What an order form for border patrol, You want tall glasses of hard fortune, Work hard for it, or rosemary pork on sourdough. I'm in love with you, but in poverty— There the devil is. But oh, aren't we all familiar? Suit and tie hangs to the tide, I tie the knot with rope from which I die, And quickly crafting coffins, want to walk around before I go off, Diving board or world one antenna? Not to mention it, redirect the attention and energy into something other than consumptive— Everything I do and everywhere I go, I clutch this stone Or put inside my pockets knowing if I let it go Or it falls out and to the ground Not only will I float up, But the world will open And swallow us all whole ((Down.)) I live with the knowledge of criminal visions and masterpiece compilations, but as of today I owe a bank my very and entire existence It is what it claims to be, these days ring true Nothing these days sounds like music but you. I put that book back on the shelf; Rewound the tape before I put it in the case I knew it would be late because, well That's the way it always is That's the way I always am I'm sorry mom. That's the way it always is— They told me I don't need no makeup on, However this may have only been true when I was ten to twenty two, Or twenty two, Or two whole years ago before the motorcycles stole my story. When I put the sun up in the sky, I suppose, is when I started this [that's called a God Complex] It's all behind us now, or rather All up front And out in the open In twelve point font As if I would ever cop to it I took the wrong way to Wall Street l Believe me l, i think of the tree at the rock, Long before this all was ever thought of, And I held her seed in the heart of my palm God said go the other way, I said “Okay” I want to see how much money I make; I wear makeup, I got nothing So much for a body I got stuck with words and good talking, And long vocabulary instead of the coast and a longboard So what's the cost for a whole table turn? So what's the cost for a “her—perfect.” Huh? What is the cost for some popcorn in Lorne's office? What is the cost just to cover the love boat theme song— Don't get me wrong I have original music I'm just hard getting to it; The motors are running The mirror: my mind is a murderer, murderer Engine's are purring are hurting her, hurting But I been wanting some corn on the cob To talk to my mom To call some place home To care for my son To wake up on Sunday past noon like “That was a good show.” And the next sold out . real talk, I got real problems Someone knows I'm on top of my thoughts at the rock, Choking back cocaine All the world under me, Mad at the world though For not looking up to me Huh I call this suffering Cause I already been been hungry, And homeless So I know this Pit-of-your stomach And tied to a brick at the bottom of the ocean feeling, that really Sits somewhere between “Hopeless” And “not good” But hey— If you were to say “how's your day” I answer “I'm great!” Like a positive, programmed robot or something, my mantras lately, replaced however with repetitive honest pleas of “Please help me.” Seems like— the only thing meaningful is saying this inside my Google documents; However, Seems like, It isn't worth the breathing, really Oddly, I forget to— Then I get this special feeling, Almost sentimental, inside my head I don't need medicine as much as I just need a friend besides my cat —thoughts of hammers in my brain— If I could tell you what the level of the pain is? Mercy. There doesn't seem to be a number Merry Christmas, Let's get displaced; Case is dismissed— Let's get shitfaced Wash the dishes, Pick the peloton, Pick imaginary friends And watch the President be hilarious, Until it effects us negative and in the read, When peanut butter bread and jelly All you ever get for breakfast For extended periods of time. Hah. Bloodshed? Wrong. Blood hound? Bad. Segmented thoughts on a toothache? Too late. I hate to tell you what the truth is, Cause you'd hate it. Useless. Jew fits; I just saved two cents on toothpaste And you got two new fits to wear for your friends approval and some cool picks But I can't do this anymore I want to choose live; Inside my death is The whole of the city, Electric and Thomas Edison And impressive Mister Business— Rockerfeller read about it; Somebody gotta learn and teach to squeeze the money out the people! Something simple says, “Just stop it.” Choke a chicken over breakfast, Thoughts of Belfast, real fast train to somewhere in LA, I think Today will be the day That I give bacon To charity, No care left, to give a gift So thankful, For being blessed with time to waste To write this piece of shit I guess I died I guess in family guy? I didn't like it, yet I think sometime's in stewie's cadence— …like, a British baby? And a talking dog? And a dumb ass dad? And a bunch of songs? And some salad dressing, To go with that master habit of getting Grams and Grammies; But in the long run, after a long talk on the roof with the opposite of God, I finally call a conference with all the lawyers of the court— But not to work at all, Only order sandwhiches Obsession has its advantages and platinum records, If you tap into it directly. Forget it. I'm out of magic. Or out of patience— out of time for petitions, But which one is it? Which dimension actually gets me picture perfect Instead of nervous in the eye of the beholders? Learn your lesson well; There's got to, got to be a reason why The wrong way is the right. There's got to be a reason why— My day becomes the night. There's got to be a reason for the words upon the paper, But I've got to figure out my rhythm later; I gone up instead of downtown, Turn the clock before the sunrise, I just want to find the love and the peace in it agai. Gotta love a synchronicity; I get stuck inside bronze statues Door way syndrome And I shutter just to never remember him But here the picture is, a perfect person Headless and befriended him, the lover The line inside my mind is crossed I'll suffer till I turn to dust on this one. My thoughts the first time I saw him? I hate him, Cause he'll never love me. What a troubled thought for a little girl on a lot of drugs and a weight problem. One more, I don't remember where I'm going Day to, I have to remember to forget you Take three, I'm happy that they pay me to tape these things Because I'm maybe going crazy; From the outside though, you wouldn't know it Low and behold, this is my show afterall And covered in gold like the whole of the moon I can play to the tune of two men, to two million don't let it torment you, You looks twisted Get out of your head, and turn off your television Go on a walk, Get run over by a bus or motorcycles Turn around and talk to God and your disciples — cause they all watch. Oh, what's wrong now? That's a long run, And now another pilot that I'm proud of— Stop looking at the ground— It hurts. Today, I learned my lesson, It was not a new apartment— It's a prison. I gotta say I kinda gotta love to wonder where the fuck I'm at besides “Manhattan”. The cat needs water, My heart needs captions. New York needs Jesus Hope he don't see this (Even if he did he probably wouldn't believe it, Or Even if he did He's having trouble learning English, And, Even if he did he had he's been repealing all his promises to return to us; We worship dollars A cock-shaped structures in New York— TIME TRAVELER Its called The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What. TIME TRAVELER I'm looking for The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVEL It's called “Rockefeller Plaza.” SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVELER It's a building? I guess? SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER It is. It's— SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER But— *fucks off immidiately without any closure whatsoever.* TIME TRAVELER Huh. the TIME TRAVELER pulls up a picture on their device; the building itself seems to have disappeared from the photo; (Like Marty McFlyim back to the future) Contd Must be the wrong dimension… But then JOHN D. ROCKERFELLER Is MURDERED at the height of STANDARD OIL. Oh no! So that's what happened… Yeah? He was a bastard. Well! Damn. {Enter athe Multiverse} So you're everywhere all the time, And I got nothing left to run And we already talked the talk And we're already back to one Let the waves blow over, Cravings, tasting haze of periwinkle, heaven waking Putting every penny on the promise that you got me But you never save me, Really, Jesus? Racist! I got a lot of stakes in the game And all these snakes keep weighing in! I got these eight days left inside my head, And I'm a murderer Remember to admit his wrong you are Next time the caw will crow. I crevice drawing under rock Inside the undertoe, My surfboard heading home for shore, My body going under. Oh Conan, what have you done. I'm not sure yet. So? Go get him, you old hoot. I just want to watch a little longer! *feathers ruffled* What! It is comical So i'm stuck inside the equinox on Wall Street catatonic, Adding up the dollar signs and losses, Well now, Got my hosts and calling cards, And struck with dirty dozens Doesn't anybody understand? [no. Nobody does.] Certainly, you know, nobody does this. Certainly, I'm folding all the shirts for all the husbands Certainly my love was lost, but for sure I didn't want it. For sure, I dropped a couple rocks I had inside my pocket . Well done, folks. Guess what? Those aren't crocodile tears I'm crying. I'm dehydrated but they're called psychic cause Nobody knows where they come from; Some would form the thought that you got water trapped inside your soul It only happens when the sun sheds hard tears Here, solar panels Animals and tragic circumstances, Fucking Asholes Never shine your diamond on the twilight, Shooting stars; Never shoot at birds from cars; Remember, They are flying. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you, done. I swallowed you whole, I swallows you whole, I swallowed you down some. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you up; I swallowed you whole I swallowed you whole, You know what the cost is Just a heads up, If you take a picture of a gamgstalkers face, They run away. The crime being committed is a non-contact form of combat, a scientifically proven biological weapon. When you begin to document this meticulously, a pattern of coordination begins to become established. It's no longer some sort of phenomenon, that can be written off as a symptom of a broken mind; The more evidence you gather, It becomes a verifiable crime. Remember that the point of it is to control you, to enslave your autonomy— to program you to believe something is wrong, when clearly, The signs of an awakened mind can pick out patterns in the construct of human social behavior that is not ours; it is a deficit in conciousness, a weakness, caused by the moral degradation of our souls in the societal world— A loss of God. And also remember, Humans have a history to seek and destroy which it does not understand, And cannot control— However, also, God comes in all forms. You must know when all is all. Okay, shh— Don't lock the door, now You got a pardon, You better run. I am an a-list celebrity; I am an “amen, sister— I hear that!” I am a medicine woman, A centrifugal figure, A ritual character, Skilled at charicature— A big Kimmel fan, A rick and a Morty, A woman a man, A puppet, the master, A cat in a hatbox, A blasphemous coffin; A wart on a warflower. Hm. Now who could possibly take that out of context? Soft surf rock at the equinox on Wall Street. I love all four stories, I rode all four horses, I put all four corners of the earth onto a surface Then I rolled it up Huh… Somebody does that. Leets go, hard core But don't forget the hot sauce Don't forget the — Smattercat?! SMATTERCAT?! SMAAAAAATERCAAAAAAAAAT! The Adventures of Atticus Catticus. Man, this is fucked up. I can't disagree with you. I can't get you out of my head (I want head) Can't get you out of my mind I find that You must want me dead Tan lines l You must want me off my meds! You want in me in bed at 9 sharp You know what!? You remind me of Harper. Now let's talk shop, Calm, little brother I went with the other oath— Don't you belong to God? Who's on the phone? Donald Trump. Tell him “no.” No to what? Just tell him “no.” Then he'll get here faster. So what do you got in your supplements? Simple psychology; Have a red album. Nah that. I got gold gold balls on all of my prostitutes Pulled apart orgasms, Never been touched, sire. Never have I took forgranted this passion( Never have —that flex— Theatrical pangentry. Never went Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich GODDAMMIT. I thought you grant wishes. — also in charge of summoning. Part time. Well what are you mad about?! At least you got a job! I'm so sick of this kid, He just summons “Ham sandwhich” What's wrong with that? I gave him “ham sandwhich”, Alright?! All kinds, And you know what? That guy has all kinds of magic— All the kinds— Every kind you can imagine, And no matter what, He just wants. Hmmmm…: …. Come on. Summon a dog, or something… A new bike… ……. ……..:::: ……. …. Ham sandwhich. GOD DAMMIT. …and a kite. …what was that? I want a kite. Y…you want to fly a kite. Ya. Alright! But first. An, God. Ham Sandwhich. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? SO WHAT I LOVED NANCY REGAN! SHE HAD THE BEST CATCHPHRASES! AND ALL THE KENNEDIES! FUCK WITH ME. Somebody shoot that bitch. But sir— Before she runs for president. But sir… THINK OF IT LIKE KILLING BABY HITLER. You're right. TAKE THE SHOOOOOT. MEANWHILE… In the MULTIDIMENTIONAL SPACETIME SURVEILANCE FACILITY Oh good. What's that. Someone one assasinated me. That's good. I'll say. Wouldn't want you to run for president. Someone still would have had to elected me. Oh, you mean like in all these parallels over here. *shrugs* They'll collapse eventually. They haven't yet. I just got assasinated. Wait for it. I've been waiting. I don't get why you hate me so much. I'm indifferent, really, just waiting for something exciting. I just got assasinated. And I just got a ten cent raise. From what I can tell, doesn't make much of a differences. It's like, limited assimilation in this dimension; Did I correct you— Lessons, I'm not making any promises. Look out little brother! I set them on you. Got to put the pudding in your pot— And don't forget to floss. What's corrextions? Look, I'm anatomically correct— Shut up, Ken. I don't click on videos or images Because I love him It's just a crush, A pair of wooden crutches A horcrux And a fox A crucifix And Sunday Brunches. It's just a bunch of pictures, Edits, autographs, Extended plays It's just an infinite inside my head— It's been a couple days. A couple miles down And sure to go, You're all for it— Soon you got to know Whatever you done Has come for your— Stop the truck for misuse of four muses And autotune to ruin it— Your mascot is a narwhal But you're rooting for the Bruins. What is even a Bruin? A bunch of racist frat boys and hot bitches in sororities and covens? Bet that Okay, Like, I fall in love But just to write a bit I pour my heart out in a song And for the moment I could make forget i'm ugly Even if for the duration of the half time; Half a pack at halftime, Half a pack at bedtime 20 cigarettes on your 2020 vision. Three beers, Then three beers Thirty three years and he still won't love me Thirty three years and I'm still no woman. He show first, So I shot back I forgot rock doves Served a purpose Postage For lost albums on the surface Surfboards For hot rod bod host, I offered up Conan, Now pick that hard eye Banjo up Water dance Pick that apple, Off the tree With not a scratch Hands tied behind your back; Baggage claim, River dance Pick it up without a fork You whispered us a state of trance For God's socks, If I fly coach, Low ball Lost a fortune Don't call me ‘bud' I think about your walk all day; Like, Three or four times, maybe Not no noodle soup, you wonder But you're asking for a Ballroom. Haggard. God did far too good a job on you; As the car jumped over the moon. I complete your meat puppet, But recently went vegan Line them up and then A heart attack, A hot bath, And a hammock. You got your offer, But I want it back, I want my roses. Golden proses so rit and rattle. I rot in hell for all I've done, then scramble; Damn. I just can't get you off my head without ramble You're probably on a tour bus; She's pulling out all the stop— But you're my monster, just know that Although I'm on top of her turf. So much for Service Monday. So much for making money on a conduit, a conduct. So much for love as. He aim for the head; I aim for the neck; He aim for the heart, I duck, I fall in her eyes, High water— No more cam tide Sunsets. What, I get you really wanted oceans, So you got them. Godsense. Pull, Conan Pull— Haul in! All in on your cards, But take the occult off them; Offering? Totem pole. More than one? I love to hope. Fix your face. Pull the plug— I'm off till Sunday, Off till Sunday. Ten days to Tuesday, You want no more Ten days to Sunday And ten more before that; Ten tongues before dawn, And other I slaughter And slaught cross the sloth, I wither, Your honor. Ten tales too soon, Ten wide my diamonds; Ten eyes in your Isis, My mind, Orion. Ten lost in the Outback; Ten lost on your mass, tongue Two whipped at the alter— I called her about that. So to the effect you check your fax and press the send, I'm steady living, never coming back, Or cap the president— Never living, Never listing residence on Madison You're stuck inside my half-life That I'm mad besides the medicine. You're stuck inside my past, Like all the knives inside my back, And still I fondly think upon a laugh, As ice cream sundaes, Half a sandwich Appetite for having all you are inside my master work of art, The world, your face I cut from clay inside my hands And I still have you in my swollen arteries, and trees the veins, The wicked summers and the bitter winters came, But did not cross paths, So to not bear ties, and to not plug Holes in the hull of the whole ship I think I sunk overtime instead of rather All at once, You know, It doesn't suffix What it takes to turn it back from “Love him” Into nothing. 20 hours passed and 20 cigarettes and ivory towers, But forgive the lives inside of Mormon wives and ice cold showers— Scatterbrained but highly trained in “Never Happened.” “Didn't matter.” So you roll it up into a movie script and call them actors. Why'd you flash me, dancer, Don't you know how bad I want that? Out inside your dozens, for my cinnamon coated combat Nail box fires Had you ordered Your desires Flow the golden drifter Fear of rivers never frozen. Don't you know the sun draws close But the heart grows cold, But the want goes harder? Don't you know the doors get shut, And the Kings get cut, And the wind blows wilder? Don't you know the stars just fall from the sky (They all fall from the sky, They fell from the sky) Don't you know We're all gonna die Put a trial to the wand, Fore you take her heart out Ten times.

Who left a whole box of corn flakes In a locker At the Equinox On Wall Street? I told you go to the one at The Rock. I told you, I'm not going on that block, like at all. {Enter The Multiverse} That's just my Karma, Ms. Nancy; I did a whole lot than just Thought about it More edits, More recognition that I—l couldn't stand it; The planet just seems to get smaller and smaller With less and less plants in it; I have your pants on, But shoes didn't fit I wrote a whole book and resenting But still not the movies, I meant it. Damn. She's just so much better than I am Head in a frying pan on high beforehand, And however damaged, It felt bad I know what I did I felt that Camera Obscura, for sure, you know But disconnect, Swallow badders, wha— t?! Get my peanut butter up; Why! I'm a circus monkey; Damn. I got karma faster Than I should have known I lost episodes And threw away the whole entire show I went running long And then I threw up on the subway I only like the one Sublime album (The one with wrong way.) You know? Cuh' I went the wrong way I fucked up on all my dollars I got karma back hard, yah Got a poem or prose or song on ol' Ms. Molly, too, (or two) I fall in love inside the tube, Truth is, though Teletubbies and teleportation Ain't so far off from where I come from Problem is, Opporsite world, I'm the story of the whole show; For sure dawg. —a situational Thought process. When the crack finally kicks in, Astounding the loss of my confidence I've gotten lost in a toxic land I got syndrome “talk to much” Not on the spectrum, nor diagnosable X's and O's on the tic tac toe board, Just an underhanded “I told you so” All the rockstars want —Subtle thoughts of suicide as the train approaches? Nah, Models and the other types of girls That never work at all, They just born at it. I got bored with it, But not the fourth one, Cross my first amendment, On my heart like catholic More like Bart Simpsons, Like art magic Cause I won't watch that show But love Matt Groening— Maybe I'm the type that just Love hating But hate loving with No way to I don't hate you; Yeah you're right, I'm off Take two. ((Good Luck Riding The J Home.)) Not a gym run, a different kind of cause, I guess I got so many plausible options, I guess I should call on one of them, Toss a number up, struck the dog on mathematics I can't let my lantern out of gas, We're not friends, are we? What a fiend! Are you offended? I just want to see my dreams relayed to me— Is that too much to ask? So I'm the asshole. What did I pack a bag for?! Picnic baskets. What did I leave this curse for? Nothing, Thanks for asking, Nance. I put a pilot on the presence of a whole color— phenomenon. I swallowed all my pride and presence just for an automaton. This automation algorithm— is it? Doesn't make a difference. I spilled blood inside my kitchen, Put deposits on a flicker, Tricked the treasure at a phantom, Phantom I want more but swallowed all my high pulp orange juice on knowledge of the only one; There's only God, There's only us— There's only cause+ effect, 6 more albums, note books and a couple novels that came out of that one. Squeeze em hard, ya'll. Don't let me love God. Don't let me talk back, I'm not about a rack. Tantrum, yes. Talk to my God. Please. Talk to me God. Now. Talk to my family one time. Now. Talk out me sideways— Now. Bring me a rebel. Now. I have a headache. Now. I got regrets son. Now I got a dead son, a dead daughter a ghost cat and George Jettson, Michael Jackson and George Zimmerman, all of my tabs open: I take a tab hoping I fall asleep on the cold ocean, Calm before storm comes Out on a surfboard Look at the full moon— Nobody can hear you so SCREAM. Now. For crying out loud, Take the knife out, For a second or thought, I'm a wife now; What back handed thought or a back and on blacklist— Your back room was only your conscious— Now I'm looking at my left side, Also catatonic, Not aboard the problem like you wanted, What an order form for border patrol, You want tall glasses of hard fortune, Work hard for it, or rosemary pork on sourdough. I'm in love with you, but in poverty— There the devil is. But oh, aren't we all familiar? Suit and tie hangs to the tide, I tie the knot with rope from which I die, And quickly crafting coffins, want to walk around before I go off, Diving board or world one antenna? Not to mention it, redirect the attention and energy into something other than consumptive— Everything I do and everywhere I go, I clutch this stone Or put inside my pockets knowing if I let it go Or it falls out and to the ground Not only will I float up, But the world will open And swallow us all whole ((Down.)) I live with the knowledge of criminal visions and masterpiece compilations, but as of today I owe a bank my very and entire existence It is what it claims to be, these days ring true Nothing these days sounds like music but you. I put that book back on the shelf; Rewound the tape before I put it in the case I knew it would be late because, well That's the way it always is That's the way I always am I'm sorry mom. That's the way it always is— They told me I don't need no makeup on, However this may have only been true when I was ten to twenty two, Or twenty two, Or two whole years ago before the motorcycles stole my story. When I put the sun up in the sky, I suppose, is when I started this [that's called a God Complex] It's all behind us now, or rather All up front And out in the open In twelve point font As if I would ever cop to it I took the wrong way to Wall Street l Believe me l, i think of the tree at the rock, Long before this all was ever thought of, And I held her seed in the heart of my palm God said go the other way, I said “Okay” I want to see how much money I make; I wear makeup, I got nothing So much for a body I got stuck with words and good talking, And long vocabulary instead of the coast and a longboard So what's the cost for a whole table turn? So what's the cost for a “her—perfect.” Huh? What is the cost for some popcorn in Lorne's office? What is the cost just to cover the love boat theme song— Don't get me wrong I have original music I'm just hard getting to it; The motors are running The mirror: my mind is a murderer, murderer Engine's are purring are hurting her, hurting But I been wanting some corn on the cob To talk to my mom To call some place home To care for my son To wake up on Sunday past noon like “That was a good show.” And the next sold out . real talk, I got real problems Someone knows I'm on top of my thoughts at the rock, Choking back cocaine All the world under me, Mad at the world though For not looking up to me Huh I call this suffering Cause I already been been hungry, And homeless So I know this Pit-of-your stomach And tied to a brick at the bottom of the ocean feeling, that really Sits somewhere between “Hopeless” And “not good” But hey— If you were to say “how's your day” I answer “I'm great!” Like a positive, programmed robot or something, my mantras lately, replaced however with repetitive honest pleas of “Please help me.” Seems like— the only thing meaningful is saying this inside my Google documents; However, Seems like, It isn't worth the breathing, really Oddly, I forget to— Then I get this special feeling, Almost sentimental, inside my head I don't need medicine as much as I just need a friend besides my cat —thoughts of hammers in my brain— If I could tell you what the level of the pain is? Mercy. There doesn't seem to be a number Merry Christmas, Let's get displaced; Case is dismissed— Let's get shitfaced Wash the dishes, Pick the peloton, Pick imaginary friends And watch the President be hilarious, Until it effects us negative and in the read, When peanut butter bread and jelly All you ever get for breakfast For extended periods of time. Hah. Bloodshed? Wrong. Blood hound? Bad. Segmented thoughts on a toothache? Too late. I hate to tell you what the truth is, Cause you'd hate it. Useless. Jew fits; I just saved two cents on toothpaste And you got two new fits to wear for your friends approval and some cool picks But I can't do this anymore I want to choose live; Inside my death is The whole of the city, Electric and Thomas Edison And impressive Mister Business— Rockerfeller read about it; Somebody gotta learn and teach to squeeze the money out the people! Something simple says, “Just stop it.” Choke a chicken over breakfast, Thoughts of Belfast, real fast train to somewhere in LA, I think Today will be the day That I give bacon To charity, No care left, to give a gift So thankful, For being blessed with time to waste To write this piece of shit I guess I died I guess in family guy? I didn't like it, yet I think sometime's in stewie's cadence— …like, a British baby? And a talking dog? And a dumb ass dad? And a bunch of songs? And some salad dressing, To go with that master habit of getting Grams and Grammies; But in the long run, after a long talk on the roof with the opposite of God, I finally call a conference with all the lawyers of the court— But not to work at all, Only order sandwhiches Obsession has its advantages and platinum records, If you tap into it directly. Forget it. I'm out of magic. Or out of patience— out of time for petitions, But which one is it? Which dimension actually gets me picture perfect Instead of nervous in the eye of the beholders? Learn your lesson well; There's got to, got to be a reason why The wrong way is the right. There's got to be a reason why— My day becomes the night. There's got to be a reason for the words upon the paper, But I've got to figure out my rhythm later; I gone up instead of downtown, Turn the clock before the sunrise, I just want to find the love and the peace in it agai. Gotta love a synchronicity; I get stuck inside bronze statues Door way syndrome And I shutter just to never remember him But here the picture is, a perfect person Headless and befriended him, the lover The line inside my mind is crossed I'll suffer till I turn to dust on this one. My thoughts the first time I saw him? I hate him, Cause he'll never love me. What a troubled thought for a little girl on a lot of drugs and a weight problem. One more, I don't remember where I'm going Day to, I have to remember to forget you Take three, I'm happy that they pay me to tape these things Because I'm maybe going crazy; From the outside though, you wouldn't know it Low and behold, this is my show afterall And covered in gold like the whole of the moon I can play to the tune of two men, to two million don't let it torment you, You looks twisted Get out of your head, and turn off your television Go on a walk, Get run over by a bus or motorcycles Turn around and talk to God and your disciples — cause they all watch. Oh, what's wrong now? That's a long run, And now another pilot that I'm proud of— Stop looking at the ground— It hurts. Today, I learned my lesson, It was not a new apartment— It's a prison. I gotta say I kinda gotta love to wonder where the fuck I'm at besides “Manhattan”. The cat needs water, My heart needs captions. New York needs Jesus Hope he don't see this (Even if he did he probably wouldn't believe it, Or Even if he did He's having trouble learning English, And, Even if he did he had he's been repealing all his promises to return to us; We worship dollars A cock-shaped structures in New York— TIME TRAVELER Its called The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What. TIME TRAVELER I'm looking for The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVEL It's called “Rockefeller Plaza.” SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVELER It's a building? I guess? SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER It is. It's— SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER But— *fucks off immidiately without any closure whatsoever.* TIME TRAVELER Huh. the TIME TRAVELER pulls up a picture on their device; the building itself seems to have disappeared from the photo; (Like Marty McFlyim back to the future) Contd Must be the wrong dimension… But then JOHN D. ROCKERFELLER Is MURDERED at the height of STANDARD OIL. Oh no! So that's what happened… Yeah? He was a bastard. Well! Damn. {Enter athe Multiverse} So you're everywhere all the time, And I got nothing left to run And we already talked the talk And we're already back to one Let the waves blow over, Cravings, tasting haze of periwinkle, heaven waking Putting every penny on the promise that you got me But you never save me, Really, Jesus? Racist! I got a lot of stakes in the game And all these snakes keep weighing in! I got these eight days left inside my head, And I'm a murderer Remember to admit his wrong you are Next time the caw will crow. I crevice drawing under rock Inside the undertoe, My surfboard heading home for shore, My body going under. Oh Conan, what have you done. I'm not sure yet. So? Go get him, you old hoot. I just want to watch a little longer! *feathers ruffled* What! It is comical So i'm stuck inside the equinox on Wall Street catatonic, Adding up the dollar signs and losses, Well now, Got my hosts and calling cards, And struck with dirty dozens Doesn't anybody understand? [no. Nobody does.] Certainly, you know, nobody does this. Certainly, I'm folding all the shirts for all the husbands Certainly my love was lost, but for sure I didn't want it. For sure, I dropped a couple rocks I had inside my pocket . Well done, folks. Guess what? Those aren't crocodile tears I'm crying. I'm dehydrated but they're called psychic cause Nobody knows where they come from; Some would form the thought that you got water trapped inside your soul It only happens when the sun sheds hard tears Here, solar panels Animals and tragic circumstances, Fucking Asholes Never shine your diamond on the twilight, Shooting stars; Never shoot at birds from cars; Remember, They are flying. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you, done. I swallowed you whole, I swallows you whole, I swallowed you down some. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you up; I swallowed you whole I swallowed you whole, You know what the cost is Just a heads up, If you take a picture of a gamgstalkers face, They run away. The crime being committed is a non-contact form of combat, a scientifically proven biological weapon. When you begin to document this meticulously, a pattern of coordination begins to become established. It's no longer some sort of phenomenon, that can be written off as a symptom of a broken mind; The more evidence you gather, It becomes a verifiable crime. Remember that the point of it is to control you, to enslave your autonomy— to program you to believe something is wrong, when clearly, The signs of an awakened mind can pick out patterns in the construct of human social behavior that is not ours; it is a deficit in conciousness, a weakness, caused by the moral degradation of our souls in the societal world— A loss of God. And also remember, Humans have a history to seek and destroy which it does not understand, And cannot control— However, also, God comes in all forms. You must know when all is all. Okay, shh— Don't lock the door, now You got a pardon, You better run. I am an a-list celebrity; I am an “amen, sister— I hear that!” I am a medicine woman, A centrifugal figure, A ritual character, Skilled at charicature— A big Kimmel fan, A rick and a Morty, A woman a man, A puppet, the master, A cat in a hatbox, A blasphemous coffin; A wart on a warflower. Hm. Now who could possibly take that out of context? Soft surf rock at the equinox on Wall Street. I love all four stories, I rode all four horses, I put all four corners of the earth onto a surface Then I rolled it up Huh… Somebody does that. Leets go, hard core But don't forget the hot sauce Don't forget the — Smattercat?! SMATTERCAT?! SMAAAAAATERCAAAAAAAAAT! The Adventures of Atticus Catticus. Man, this is fucked up. I can't disagree with you. I can't get you out of my head (I want head) Can't get you out of my mind I find that You must want me dead Tan lines l You must want me off my meds! You want in me in bed at 9 sharp You know what!? You remind me of Harper. Now let's talk shop, Calm, little brother I went with the other oath— Don't you belong to God? Who's on the phone? Donald Trump. Tell him “no.” No to what? Just tell him “no.” Then he'll get here faster. So what do you got in your supplements? Simple psychology; Have a red album. Nah that. I got gold gold balls on all of my prostitutes Pulled apart orgasms, Never been touched, sire. Never have I took forgranted this passion( Never have —that flex— Theatrical pangentry. Never went Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich GODDAMMIT. I thought you grant wishes. — also in charge of summoning. Part time. Well what are you mad about?! At least you got a job! I'm so sick of this kid, He just summons “Ham sandwhich” What's wrong with that? I gave him “ham sandwhich”, Alright?! All kinds, And you know what? That guy has all kinds of magic— All the kinds— Every kind you can imagine, And no matter what, He just wants. Hmmmm…: …. Come on. Summon a dog, or something… A new bike… ……. ……..:::: ……. …. Ham sandwhich. GOD DAMMIT. …and a kite. …what was that? I want a kite. Y…you want to fly a kite. Ya. Alright! But first. An, God. Ham Sandwhich. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? SO WHAT I LOVED NANCY REGAN! SHE HAD THE BEST CATCHPHRASES! AND ALL THE KENNEDIES! FUCK WITH ME. Somebody shoot that bitch. But sir— Before she runs for president. But sir… THINK OF IT LIKE KILLING BABY HITLER. You're right. TAKE THE SHOOOOOT. MEANWHILE… In the MULTIDIMENTIONAL SPACETIME SURVEILANCE FACILITY Oh good. What's that. Someone one assasinated me. That's good. I'll say. Wouldn't want you to run for president. Someone still would have had to elected me. Oh, you mean like in all these parallels over here. *shrugs* They'll collapse eventually. They haven't yet. I just got assasinated. Wait for it. I've been waiting. I don't get why you hate me so much. I'm indifferent, really, just waiting for something exciting. I just got assasinated. And I just got a ten cent raise. From what I can tell, doesn't make much of a differences. It's like, limited assimilation in this dimension; Did I correct you— Lessons, I'm not making any promises. Look out little brother! I set them on you. Got to put the pudding in your pot— And don't forget to floss. What's corrextions? Look, I'm anatomically correct— Shut up, Ken. I don't click on videos or images Because I love him It's just a crush, A pair of wooden crutches A horcrux And a fox A crucifix And Sunday Brunches. It's just a bunch of pictures, Edits, autographs, Extended plays It's just an infinite inside my head— It's been a couple days. A couple miles down And sure to go, You're all for it— Soon you got to know Whatever you done Has come for your— Stop the truck for misuse of four muses And autotune to ruin it— Your mascot is a narwhal But you're rooting for the Bruins. What is even a Bruin? A bunch of racist frat boys and hot bitches in sororities and covens? Bet that Okay, Like, I fall in love But just to write a bit I pour my heart out in a song And for the moment I could make forget i'm ugly Even if for the duration of the half time; Half a pack at halftime, Half a pack at bedtime 20 cigarettes on your 2020 vision. Three beers, Then three beers Thirty three years and he still won't love me Thirty three years and I'm still no woman. He show first, So I shot back I forgot rock doves Served a purpose Postage For lost albums on the surface Surfboards For hot rod bod host, I offered up Conan, Now pick that hard eye Banjo up Water dance Pick that apple, Off the tree With not a scratch Hands tied behind your back; Baggage claim, River dance Pick it up without a fork You whispered us a state of trance For God's socks, If I fly coach, Low ball Lost a fortune Don't call me ‘bud' I think about your walk all day; Like, Three or four times, maybe Not no noodle soup, you wonder But you're asking for a Ballroom. Haggard. God did far too good a job on you; As the car jumped over the moon. I complete your meat puppet, But recently went vegan Line them up and then A heart attack, A hot bath, And a hammock. You got your offer, But I want it back, I want my roses. Golden proses so rit and rattle. I rot in hell for all I've done, then scramble; Damn. I just can't get you off my head without ramble You're probably on a tour bus; She's pulling out all the stop— But you're my monster, just know that Although I'm on top of her turf. So much for Service Monday. So much for making money on a conduit, a conduct. So much for love as. He aim for the head; I aim for the neck; He aim for the heart, I duck, I fall in her eyes, High water— No more cam tide Sunsets. What, I get you really wanted oceans, So you got them. Godsense. Pull, Conan Pull— Haul in! All in on your cards, But take the occult off them; Offering? Totem pole. More than one? I love to hope. Fix your face. Pull the plug— I'm off till Sunday, Off till Sunday. Ten days to Tuesday, You want no more Ten days to Sunday And ten more before that; Ten tongues before dawn, And other I slaughter And slaught cross the sloth, I wither, Your honor. Ten tales too soon, Ten wide my diamonds; Ten eyes in your Isis, My mind, Orion. Ten lost in the Outback; Ten lost on your mass, tongue Two whipped at the alter— I called her about that. So to the effect you check your fax and press the send, I'm steady living, never coming back, Or cap the president— Never living, Never listing residence on Madison You're stuck inside my half-life That I'm mad besides the medicine. You're stuck inside my past, Like all the knives inside my back, And still I fondly think upon a laugh, As ice cream sundaes, Half a sandwich Appetite for having all you are inside my master work of art, The world, your face I cut from clay inside my hands And I still have you in my swollen arteries, and trees the veins, The wicked summers and the bitter winters came, But did not cross paths, So to not bear ties, and to not plug Holes in the hull of the whole ship I think I sunk overtime instead of rather All at once, You know, It doesn't suffix What it takes to turn it back from “Love him” Into nothing. 20 hours passed and 20 cigarettes and ivory towers, But forgive the lives inside of Mormon wives and ice cold showers— Scatterbrained but highly trained in “Never Happened.” “Didn't matter.” So you roll it up into a movie script and call them actors. Why'd you flash me, dancer, Don't you know how bad I want that? Out inside your dozens, for my cinnamon coated combat Nail box fires Had you ordered Your desires Flow the golden drifter Fear of rivers never frozen. Don't you know the sun draws close But the heart grows cold, But the want goes harder? Don't you know the doors get shut, And the Kings get cut, And the wind blows wilder? Don't you know the stars just fall from the sky (They all fall from the sky, They fell from the sky) Don't you know We're all gonna die Put a trial to the wand, Fore you take her heart out Ten times.

—1313. Chroma111. Who left a whole box of corn flakes In a locker At the Equinox On Wall Street? I told you go to the one at The Rock. I told you, I'm not going on that block, like at all. {Enter The Multiverse} That's just my Karma, Ms. Nancy; I did a whole lot than just Thought about it More edits, More recognition that I—l couldn't stand it; The planet just seems to get smaller and smaller With less and less plants in it; I have your pants on, But shoes didn't fit I wrote a whole book and resenting But still not the movies, I meant it. Damn. She's just so much better than I am Head in a frying pan on high beforehand, And however damaged, It felt bad I know what I did I felt that Camera Obscura, for sure, you know But disconnect, Swallow badders, wha— t?! Get my peanut butter up; Why! I'm a circus monkey; Damn. I got karma faster Than I should have known I lost episodes And threw away the whole entire show I went running long And then I threw up on the subway I only like the one Sublime album (The one with wrong way.) You know? Cuh' I went the wrong way I fucked up on all my dollars I got karma back hard, yah Got a poem or prose or song on ol' Ms. Molly, too, (or two) I fall in love inside the tube, Truth is, though Teletubbies and teleportation Ain't so far off from where I come from Problem is, Opporsite world, I'm the story of the whole show; For sure dawg. —a situational Thought process. When the crack finally kicks in, Astounding the loss of my confidence I've gotten lost in a toxic land I got syndrome “talk to much” Not on the spectrum, nor diagnosable X's and O's on the tic tac toe board, Just an underhanded “I told you so” All the rockstars want —Subtle thoughts of suicide as the train approaches? Nah, Models and the other types of girls That never work at all, They just born at it. I got bored with it, But not the fourth one, Cross my first amendment, On my heart like catholic More like Bart Simpsons, Like art magic Cause I won't watch that show But love Matt Groening— Maybe I'm the type that just Love hating But hate loving with No way to I don't hate you; Yeah you're right, I'm off Take two. ((Good Luck Riding The J Home.)) Not a gym run, a different kind of cause, I guess I got so many plausible options, I guess I should call on one of them, Toss a number up, struck the dog on mathematics I can't let my lantern out of gas, We're not friends, are we? What a fiend! Are you offended? I just want to see my dreams relayed to me— Is that too much to ask? So I'm the asshole. What did I pack a bag for?! Picnic baskets. What did I leave this curse for? Nothing, Thanks for asking, Nance. I put a pilot on the presence of a whole color— phenomenon. I swallowed all my pride and presence just for an automaton. This automation algorithm— is it? Doesn't make a difference. I spilled blood inside my kitchen, Put deposits on a flicker, Tricked the treasure at a phantom, Phantom I want more but swallowed all my high pulp orange juice on knowledge of the only one; There's only God, There's only us— There's only cause+ effect, 6 more albums, note books and a couple novels that came out of that one. Squeeze em hard, ya'll. Don't let me love God. Don't let me talk back, I'm not about a rack. Tantrum, yes. Talk to my God. Please. Talk to me God. Now. Talk to my family one time. Now. Talk out me sideways— Now. Bring me a rebel. Now. I have a headache. Now. I got regrets son. Now I got a dead son, a dead daughter a ghost cat and George Jettson, Michael Jackson and George Zimmerman, all of my tabs open: I take a tab hoping I fall asleep on the cold ocean, Calm before storm comes Out on a surfboard Look at the full moon— Nobody can hear you so SCREAM. Now. For crying out loud, Take the knife out, For a second or thought, I'm a wife now; What back handed thought or a back and on blacklist— Your back room was only your conscious— Now I'm looking at my left side, Also catatonic, Not aboard the problem like you wanted, What an order form for border patrol, You want tall glasses of hard fortune, Work hard for it, or rosemary pork on sourdough. I'm in love with you, but in poverty— There the devil is. But oh, aren't we all familiar? Suit and tie hangs to the tide, I tie the knot with rope from which I die, And quickly crafting coffins, want to walk around before I go off, Diving board or world one antenna? Not to mention it, redirect the attention and energy into something other than consumptive— Everything I do and everywhere I go, I clutch this stone Or put inside my pockets knowing if I let it go Or it falls out and to the ground Not only will I float up, But the world will open And swallow us all whole ((Down.)) I live with the knowledge of criminal visions and masterpiece compilations, but as of today I owe a bank my very and entire existence It is what it claims to be, these days ring true Nothing these days sounds like music but you. I put that book back on the shelf; Rewound the tape before I put it in the case I knew it would be late because, well That's the way it always is That's the way I always am I'm sorry mom. That's the way it always is— They told me I don't need no makeup on, However this may have only been true when I was ten to twenty two, Or twenty two, Or two whole years ago before the motorcycles stole my story. When I put the sun up in the sky, I suppose, is when I started this [that's called a God Complex] It's all behind us now, or rather All up front And out in the open In twelve point font As if I would ever cop to it I took the wrong way to Wall Street l Believe me l, i think of the tree at the rock, Long before this all was ever thought of, And I held her seed in the heart of my palm God said go the other way, I said “Okay” I want to see how much money I make; I wear makeup, I got nothing So much for a body I got stuck with words and good talking, And long vocabulary instead of the coast and a longboard So what's the cost for a whole table turn? So what's the cost for a “her—perfect.” Huh? What is the cost for some popcorn in Lorne's office? What is the cost just to cover the love boat theme song— Don't get me wrong I have original music I'm just hard getting to it; The motors are running The mirror: my mind is a murderer, murderer Engine's are purring are hurting her, hurting But I been wanting some corn on the cob To talk to my mom To call some place home To care for my son To wake up on Sunday past noon like “That was a good show.” And the next sold out . real talk, I got real problems Someone knows I'm on top of my thoughts at the rock, Choking back cocaine All the world under me, Mad at the world though For not looking up to me Huh I call this suffering Cause I already been been hungry, And homeless So I know this Pit-of-your stomach And tied to a brick at the bottom of the ocean feeling, that really Sits somewhere between “Hopeless” And “not good” But hey— If you were to say “how's your day” I answer “I'm great!” Like a positive, programmed robot or something, my mantras lately, replaced however with repetitive honest pleas of “Please help me.” Seems like— the only thing meaningful is saying this inside my Google documents; However, Seems like, It isn't worth the breathing, really Oddly, I forget to— Then I get this special feeling, Almost sentimental, inside my head I don't need medicine as much as I just need a friend besides my cat —thoughts of hammers in my brain— If I could tell you what the level of the pain is? Mercy. There doesn't seem to be a number Merry Christmas, Let's get displaced; Case is dismissed— Let's get shitfaced Wash the dishes, Pick the peloton, Pick imaginary friends And watch the President be hilarious, Until it effects us negative and in the read, When peanut butter bread and jelly All you ever get for breakfast For extended periods of time. Hah. Bloodshed? Wrong. Blood hound? Bad. Segmented thoughts on a toothache? Too late. I hate to tell you what the truth is, Cause you'd hate it. Useless. Jew fits; I just saved two cents on toothpaste And you got two new fits to wear for your friends approval and some cool picks But I can't do this anymore I want to choose live; Inside my death is The whole of the city, Electric and Thomas Edison And impressive Mister Business— Rockerfeller read about it; Somebody gotta learn and teach to squeeze the money out the people! Something simple says, “Just stop it.” Choke a chicken over breakfast, Thoughts of Belfast, real fast train to somewhere in LA, I think Today will be the day That I give bacon To charity, No care left, to give a gift So thankful, For being blessed with time to waste To write this piece of shit I guess I died I guess in family guy? I didn't like it, yet I think sometime's in stewie's cadence— …like, a British baby? And a talking dog? And a dumb ass dad? And a bunch of songs? And some salad dressing, To go with that master habit of getting Grams and Grammies; But in the long run, after a long talk on the roof with the opposite of God, I finally call a conference with all the lawyers of the court— But not to work at all, Only order sandwhiches Obsession has its advantages and platinum records, If you tap into it directly. Forget it. I'm out of magic. Or out of patience— out of time for petitions, But which one is it? Which dimension actually gets me picture perfect Instead of nervous in the eye of the beholders? Learn your lesson well; There's got to, got to be a reason why The wrong way is the right. There's got to be a reason why— My day becomes the night. There's got to be a reason for the words upon the paper, But I've got to figure out my rhythm later; I gone up instead of downtown, Turn the clock before the sunrise, I just want to find the love and the peace in it agai. Gotta love a synchronicity; I get stuck inside bronze statues Door way syndrome And I shutter just to never remember him But here the picture is, a perfect person Headless and befriended him, the lover The line inside my mind is crossed I'll suffer till I turn to dust on this one. My thoughts the first time I saw him? I hate him, Cause he'll never love me. What a troubled thought for a little girl on a lot of drugs and a weight problem. One more, I don't remember where I'm going Day to, I have to remember to forget you Take three, I'm happy that they pay me to tape these things Because I'm maybe going crazy; From the outside though, you wouldn't know it Low and behold, this is my show afterall And covered in gold like the whole of the moon I can play to the tune of two men, to two million don't let it torment you, You looks twisted Get out of your head, and turn off your television Go on a walk, Get run over by a bus or motorcycles Turn around and talk to God and your disciples — cause they all watch. Oh, what's wrong now? That's a long run, And now another pilot that I'm proud of— Stop looking at the ground— It hurts. Today, I learned my lesson, It was not a new apartment— It's a prison. I gotta say I kinda gotta love to wonder where the fuck I'm at besides “Manhattan”. The cat needs water, My heart needs captions. New York needs Jesus Hope he don't see this (Even if he did he probably wouldn't believe it, Or Even if he did He's having trouble learning English, And, Even if he did he had he's been repealing all his promises to return to us; We worship dollars A cock-shaped structures in New York— TIME TRAVELER Its called The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What. TIME TRAVELER I'm looking for The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVEL It's called “Rockefeller Plaza.” SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVELER It's a building? I guess? SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER It is. It's— SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER But— *fucks off immidiately without any closure whatsoever.* TIME TRAVELER Huh. the TIME TRAVELER pulls up a picture on their device; the building itself seems to have disappeared from the photo; (Like Marty McFlyim back to the future) Contd Must be the wrong dimension… But then JOHN D. ROCKERFELLER Is MURDERED at the height of STANDARD OIL. Oh no! So that's what happened… Yeah? He was a bastard. Well! Damn. {Enter athe Multiverse} So you're everywhere all the time, And I got nothing left to run And we already talked the talk And we're already back to one Let the waves blow over, Cravings, tasting haze of periwinkle, heaven waking Putting every penny on the promise that you got me But you never save me, Really, Jesus? Racist! I got a lot of stakes in the game And all these snakes keep weighing in! I got these eight days left inside my head, And I'm a murderer Remember to admit his wrong you are Next time the caw will crow. I crevice drawing under rock Inside the undertoe, My surfboard heading home for shore, My body going under. Oh Conan, what have you done. I'm not sure yet. So? Go get him, you old hoot. I just want to watch a little longer! *feathers ruffled* What! It is comical So imm stuck inside the equinox on Wall Street catatonic, Adding up the dollar signs and losses, Well now, Got my hosts and calling cards, And struck with dirty dozens Doesn't anybody understand? [no. Nobody does.] Certainly, you know, nobody does this. Certainly, I'm folding all the shirts for all the husbands Certainly my love was lost, but for sure I didn't want it. For sure, I dropped a couple rocks I had inside my pocket . Well done, folks. Guess what? Those aren't crocodile tears I'm crying. I'm dehydrated but they're called psychic cause Nobody knows where they come from; Some would form the thought that you got water trapped inside your soul It only happens when the sun sheds hard tears Here, solar panels Animals and tragic circumstances, Fucking Asholes Never shine your diamond on the twilight, Shooting stars; Never shoot at birds from cars; Remember, They are flying. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you, done. I swallowed you whole, I swallows you whole, I swallowed you down some. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you up; I swallowed you whole I swallowed you whole, You know what the cost is Just a heads up, If you take a picture of a gamgstalkers face, They run away. The crime being committed is a non-contact form of combat, a scientifically proven biological weapon. When you begin to document this meticulously, a pattern of coordination begins to become established. It's no longer some sort of phenomenon, that can be written off as a symptom of a broken mind; The more evidence you gather, It becomes a verifiable crime. Remember that the point of it is to control you, to enslave your autonomy— to program you to believe something is wrong, when clearly, The signs of an awakened mind can pick out patterns in the construct of human social behavior that is not ours; it is a deficit in conciousness, a weakness, caused by the moral degradation of our souls in the societal world— A loss of God. And also remember, Humans have a history to seek and destroy which it does not understand, And cannot control— However, also, God comes in all forms. You must know when all is all. Okay, shh— Don't lock the door, now You got a pardon, You better run. I am an a-list celebrity; I am an “amen, sister— I hear that!” I am a medicine woman, A centrifugal figure, A ritual character, Skilled at charicature— A big Kimmel fan, A rick and a Morty, A woman a man, A puppet, the master, A cat in a hatbox, A blasphemous coffin; A wart on a warflower. Hm. Now who could possibly take that out of context? Soft surf rock at the equinox on Wall Street. I love all four stories, I rode all four horses, I put all four corners of the earth onto a surface Then I rolled it up Huh… Somebody does that. Leets go, hard core But don't forget the hot sauce Don't forget the — Smattercat?! SMATTERCAT?! SMAAAAAATERCAAAAAAAAAT! The Adventures of Atticus Catticus. Man, this is fucked up. I can't disagree with you. I can't get you out of my head (I want head) Can't get you out of my mind I find that You must want me dead Tan lines l You must want me off my meds! You want in me in bed at 9 sharp You know what!? You remind me of Harper. Now let's talk shop, Calm, little brother I went with the other oath— Don't you belong to God? Who's on the phone? Donald Trump. Tell him “no.” No to what? Just tell him “no.” Then he'll get here faster. So what do you got in your supplements? Simple psychology; Have a red album. Nah that. I got gold gold balls on all of my prostitutes Pulled apart orgasms, Never been touched, sire. Never have I took forgranted this passion( Never have —that flex— Theatrical pangentry. Never went Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich GODDAMMIT. I thought you grant wishes. — also in charge of summoning. Part time. Well what are you mad about?! At least you got a job! I'm so sick of this kid, He just summons “Ham sandwhich” What's wrong with that? I gave him “ham sandwhich”, Alright?! All kinds, And you know what? That guy has all kinds of magic— All the kinds— Every kind you can imagine, And no matter what, He just wants. Hmmmm…: …. Come on. Summon a dog, or something… A new bike… ……. ……..:::: ……. …. Ham sandwhich. GOD DAMMIT. …and a kite. …what was that? I want a kite. Y…you want to fly a kite. Ya. Alright! But first. An, God. Ham Sandwhich. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? SO WHAT I LOVED NANCY REGAN! SHE HAD THE BEST CATCHPHRASES! AND ALL THE KENNEDIES! FUCK WITH ME. Somebody shoot that bitch. But sir— Before she runs for president. But sir… THINK OF IT LIKE KILLING BABY HITLER. You're right. TAKE THE SHOOOOOT. MEANWHILE… In the MULTIDIMENTIONAL SPACETIME SURVEILANCE FACILITY Oh good. What's that. Someone one assasinated me. That's good. I'll say. Wouldn't want you to run for president. Someone still would have had to elected me. Oh, you mean like in all these parallels over here. *shrugs* They'll collapse eventually. They haven't yet. I just got assasinated. Wait for it. I've been waiting. I don't get why you hate me so much. I'm indifferent, really, just waiting for something exciting. I just got assasinated. And I just got a ten cent raise. From what I can tell, doesn't make much of a differences. It's like, limited assimilation in this dimension; Did I correct you— Lessons, I'm not making any promises. Look out little brother! I set them on you. Got to put the pudding in your pot— And don't forget to floss. What's corrextions? Look, I'm anatomically correct— Shut up, Ken. I don't click on videos or images Because I love him It's just a crush, A pair of wooden crutches A horcrux And a fox A crucifix And Sunday Brunches. It's just a bunch of pictures, Edits, autographs, Extended plays It's just an infinite inside my head— It's been a couple days. A couple miles down And sure to go, You're all for it— Soon you got to know Whatever you done Has come for your— Stop the truck for misuse of four muses And autotune to ruin it— Your mascot is a narwhal But you're rooting for the Bruins. What is even a Bruin? A bunch of racist frat boys and hot bitches in sororities and covens? Bet that Okay, Like, I fall in love But just to write a bit I pour my heart out in a song And for the moment I could make forget i'm ugly Even if for the duration of the half time; Half a pack at halftime, Half a pack at bedtime 20 cigarettes on your 2020 vision. Three beers, Then three beers Thirty three years and he still won't love me Thirty three years and I'm still no woman. He shot first, So I shot back I forgot rock doves Served a purpose Postage For lost albums on the surface Surfboards For hot rod bod host, I offered up Conan, Now pick that hard eye Banjo up Water dance Pick that apple, Off the tree With not a scratch Hands tied behind your back; Baggage claim, River dance Pick it up without a fork You whispered us a state of trance For God's socks, If I fly coach, Low ball Lost a fortune Don't call me ‘bud' I think about your walk all day; Like, Three or four times, maybe Not no noodle soup, you wonder But you're asking for a Ballroom. Haggard. God did far too good a job on you; As the car jumped over the moon. I complete your meat puppet, But recently went vegan Line them up and then A heart attack, A hot bath, And a hammock. You got your offer, But I want it back, I want my roses. Golden proses so rit and rattle. I rot in hell for all I've done, then scramble; Damn. I just can't get you off my head without ramble You're probably on a tour bus; She's pulling out all the stop— But you're my monster, just know that Although I'm on top of her turf. So much for Service Monday. So much for making money on a conduit, a conduct. So much for love as. He aim for the head; I aim for the neck; He aim for the heart, I duck, I fall in her eyes, High water— No more cam tide Sunsets. What, I get you really wanted oceans, So you got them. Godsense. Pull, Conan Pull— Haul in! All in on your cards, But take the occult off them; Offering? Totem pole. More than one? I love to hope. Fix your face. Pull the plug— I'm off till Sunday, Off till Sunday. Ten days to Tuesday, You want no more Ten days to Sunday And ten more before that; Ten tongues before dawn, And other I slaughter And slaught cross the sloth, I wither, Your honor. Ten tales too soon, Ten wide my diamonds; Ten eyes in your Isis, My mind, Orion. Ten lost in the Outback; Ten lost on your mass, tongue Two whipped at the alter— I called her about that. So to the effect you check your fax and press the send, I'm steady living, never coming back, Or cap the president— Never living, Never listing residence on Madison You're stuck inside my half-life That I'm mad besides the medicine. You're stuck inside my past, Like all the knives inside my back, And still I fondly think upon a laugh, As ice cream sundaes, Half a sandwich Appetite for having all you are inside my master work of art, The world, your face I cut from clay inside my hands And I still have you in my swollen arteries, and trees the veins, The wicked summers and the bitter winters came, But did not cross paths, So to not bear ties, and to not plug Holes in the hull of the whole ship I think I sunk overtime instead of rather All at once, You know, It doesn't suffix What it takes to turn it back from “Love him” Into nothing. 20 hours passed and 20 cigarettes and ivory towers, But forgive the lives inside of Mormon wives and ice cold showers— Scatterbrained but highly trained in “Never Happened.” “Didn't matter.” So you roll it up into a movie script and call them actors. Why'd you flash me, dancer, Don't you know how bad I want that? Out inside your dozens, for my cinnamon coated combat Nail box fires Had you ordered Your desires Flow the golden drifter Fear of rivers never frozen. Don't you know the sun draws close But the heart grows cold, But the want goes harder? Don't you know the doors get shut, And the Kings get cut, And the wind blows wilder? Don't you know the stars just fall from the sky (They all fall from the sky, They fell from the sky) Don't you know We're all gonna die Put a trial to the wand, Fore you take her heart out Ten times. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW ​​

Who left a whole box of corn flakes In a locker At the Equinox On Wall Street? I told you go to the one at The Rock. I told you, I'm not going on that block, like at all. {Enter The Multiverse} That's just my Karma, Ms. Nancy; I did a whole lot than just Thought about it More edits, More recognition that I—l couldn't stand it; The planet just seems to get smaller and smaller With less and less plants in it; I have your pants on, But shoes didn't fit I wrote a whole book and resenting But still not the movies, I meant it. Damn. She's just so much better than I am Head in a frying pan on high beforehand, And however damaged, It felt bad I know what I did I felt that Camera Obscura, for sure, you know But disconnect, Swallow badders, wha— t?! Get my peanut butter up; Why! I'm a circus monkey; Damn. I got karma faster Than I should have known I lost episodes And threw away the whole entire show I went running long And then I threw up on the subway I only like the one Sublime album (The one with wrong way.) You know? Cuh' I went the wrong way I fucked up on all my dollars I got karma back hard, yah Got a poem or prose or song on ol' Ms. Molly, too, (or two) I fall in love inside the tube, Truth is, though Teletubbies and teleportation Ain't so far off from where I come from Problem is, Opporsite world, I'm the story of the whole show; For sure dawg. —a situational Thought process. When the crack finally kicks in, Astounding the loss of my confidence I've gotten lost in a toxic land I got syndrome “talk to much” Not on the spectrum, nor diagnosable X's and O's on the tic tac toe board, Just an underhanded “I told you so” All the rockstars want —Subtle thoughts of suicide as the train approaches? Nah, Models and the other types of girls That never work at all, They just born at it. I got bored with it, But not the fourth one, Cross my first amendment, On my heart like catholic More like Bart Simpsons, Like art magic Cause I won't watch that show But love Matt Groening— Maybe I'm the type that just Love hating But hate loving with No way to I don't hate you; Yeah you're right, I'm off Take two. ((Good Luck Riding The J Home.)) Not a gym run, a different kind of cause, I guess I got so many plausible options, I guess I should call on one of them, Toss a number up, struck the dog on mathematics I can't let my lantern out of gas, We're not friends, are we? What a fiend! Are you offended? I just want to see my dreams relayed to me— Is that too much to ask? So I'm the asshole. What did I pack a bag for?! Picnic baskets. What did I leave this curse for? Nothing, Thanks for asking, Nance. I put a pilot on the presence of a whole color— phenomenon. I swallowed all my pride and presence just for an automaton. This automation algorithm— is it? Doesn't make a difference. I spilled blood inside my kitchen, Put deposits on a flicker, Tricked the treasure at a phantom, Phantom I want more but swallowed all my high pulp orange juice on knowledge of the only one; There's only God, There's only us— There's only cause+ effect, 6 more albums, note books and a couple novels that came out of that one. Squeeze em hard, ya'll. Don't let me love God. Don't let me talk back, I'm not about a rack. Tantrum, yes. Talk to my God. Please. Talk to me God. Now. Talk to my family one time. Now. Talk out me sideways— Now. Bring me a rebel. Now. I have a headache. Now. I got regrets son. Now I got a dead son, a dead daughter a ghost cat and George Jettson, Michael Jackson and George Zimmerman, all of my tabs open: I take a tab hoping I fall asleep on the cold ocean, Calm before storm comes Out on a surfboard Look at the full moon— Nobody can hear you so SCREAM. Now. For crying out loud, Take the knife out, For a second or thought, I'm a wife now; What back handed thought or a back and on blacklist— Your back room was only your conscious— Now I'm looking at my left side, Also catatonic, Not aboard the problem like you wanted, What an order form for border patrol, You want tall glasses of hard fortune, Work hard for it, or rosemary pork on sourdough. I'm in love with you, but in poverty— There the devil is. But oh, aren't we all familiar? Suit and tie hangs to the tide, I tie the knot with rope from which I die, And quickly crafting coffins, want to walk around before I go off, Diving board or world one antenna? Not to mention it, redirect the attention and energy into something other than consumptive— Everything I do and everywhere I go, I clutch this stone Or put inside my pockets knowing if I let it go Or it falls out and to the ground Not only will I float up, But the world will open And swallow us all whole ((Down.)) I live with the knowledge of criminal visions and masterpiece compilations, but as of today I owe a bank my very and entire existence It is what it claims to be, these days ring true Nothing these days sounds like music but you. I put that book back on the shelf; Rewound the tape before I put it in the case I knew it would be late because, well That's the way it always is That's the way I always am I'm sorry mom. That's the way it always is— They told me I don't need no makeup on, However this may have only been true when I was ten to twenty two, Or twenty two, Or two whole years ago before the motorcycles stole my story. When I put the sun up in the sky, I suppose, is when I started this [that's called a God Complex] It's all behind us now, or rather All up front And out in the open In twelve point font As if I would ever cop to it I took the wrong way to Wall Street l Believe me l, i think of the tree at the rock, Long before this all was ever thought of, And I held her seed in the heart of my palm God said go the other way, I said “Okay” I want to see how much money I make; I wear makeup, I got nothing So much for a body I got stuck with words and good talking, And long vocabulary instead of the coast and a longboard So what's the cost for a whole table turn? So what's the cost for a “her—perfect.” Huh? What is the cost for some popcorn in Lorne's office? What is the cost just to cover the love boat theme song— Don't get me wrong I have original music I'm just hard getting to it; The motors are running The mirror: my mind is a murderer, murderer Engine's are purring are hurting her, hurting But I been wanting some corn on the cob To talk to my mom To call some place home To care for my son To wake up on Sunday past noon like “That was a good show.” And the next sold out . real talk, I got real problems Someone knows I'm on top of my thoughts at the rock, Choking back cocaine All the world under me, Mad at the world though For not looking up to me Huh I call this suffering Cause I already been been hungry, And homeless So I know this Pit-of-your stomach And tied to a brick at the bottom of the ocean feeling, that really Sits somewhere between “Hopeless” And “not good” But hey— If you were to say “how's your day” I answer “I'm great!” Like a positive, programmed robot or something, my mantras lately, replaced however with repetitive honest pleas of “Please help me.” Seems like— the only thing meaningful is saying this inside my Google documents; However, Seems like, It isn't worth the breathing, really Oddly, I forget to— Then I get this special feeling, Almost sentimental, inside my head I don't need medicine as much as I just need a friend besides my cat —thoughts of hammers in my brain— If I could tell you what the level of the pain is? Mercy. There doesn't seem to be a number Merry Christmas, Let's get displaced; Case is dismissed— Let's get shitfaced Wash the dishes, Pick the peloton, Pick imaginary friends And watch the President be hilarious, Until it effects us negative and in the read, When peanut butter bread and jelly All you ever get for breakfast For extended periods of time. Hah. Bloodshed? Wrong. Blood hound? Bad. Segmented thoughts on a toothache? Too late. I hate to tell you what the truth is, Cause you'd hate it. Useless. Jew fits; I just saved two cents on toothpaste And you got two new fits to wear for your friends approval and some cool picks But I can't do this anymore I want to choose live; Inside my death is The whole of the city, Electric and Thomas Edison And impressive Mister Business— Rockerfeller read about it; Somebody gotta learn and teach to squeeze the money out the people! Something simple says, “Just stop it.” Choke a chicken over breakfast, Thoughts of Belfast, real fast train to somewhere in LA, I think Today will be the day That I give bacon To charity, No care left, to give a gift So thankful, For being blessed with time to waste To write this piece of shit I guess I died I guess in family guy? I didn't like it, yet I think sometime's in stewie's cadence— …like, a British baby? And a talking dog? And a dumb ass dad? And a bunch of songs? And some salad dressing, To go with that master habit of getting Grams and Grammies; But in the long run, after a long talk on the roof with the opposite of God, I finally call a conference with all the lawyers of the court— But not to work at all, Only order sandwhiches Obsession has its advantages and platinum records, If you tap into it directly. Forget it. I'm out of magic. Or out of patience— out of time for petitions, But which one is it? Which dimension actually gets me picture perfect Instead of nervous in the eye of the beholders? Learn your lesson well; There's got to, got to be a reason why The wrong way is the right. There's got to be a reason why— My day becomes the night. There's got to be a reason for the words upon the paper, But I've got to figure out my rhythm later; I gone up instead of downtown, Turn the clock before the sunrise, I just want to find the love and the peace in it agai. Gotta love a synchronicity; I get stuck inside bronze statues Door way syndrome And I shutter just to never remember him But here the picture is, a perfect person Headless and befriended him, the lover The line inside my mind is crossed I'll suffer till I turn to dust on this one. My thoughts the first time I saw him? I hate him, Cause he'll never love me. What a troubled thought for a little girl on a lot of drugs and a weight problem. One more, I don't remember where I'm going Day to, I have to remember to forget you Take three, I'm happy that they pay me to tape these things Because I'm maybe going crazy; From the outside though, you wouldn't know it Low and behold, this is my show afterall And covered in gold like the whole of the moon I can play to the tune of two men, to two million don't let it torment you, You looks twisted Get out of your head, and turn off your television Go on a walk, Get run over by a bus or motorcycles Turn around and talk to God and your disciples — cause they all watch. Oh, what's wrong now? That's a long run, And now another pilot that I'm proud of— Stop looking at the ground— It hurts. Today, I learned my lesson, It was not a new apartment— It's a prison. I gotta say I kinda gotta love to wonder where the fuck I'm at besides “Manhattan”. The cat needs water, My heart needs captions. New York needs Jesus Hope he don't see this (Even if he did he probably wouldn't believe it, Or Even if he did He's having trouble learning English, And, Even if he did he had he's been repealing all his promises to return to us; We worship dollars A cock-shaped structures in New York— TIME TRAVELER Its called The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What. TIME TRAVELER I'm looking for The Rock. SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVEL It's called “Rockefeller Plaza.” SUPER NEW YORKER What's that. TIME TRAVELER It's a building? I guess? SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER It is. It's— SUPER NEW YORKER It's not. TIME TRAVELER But— *fucks off immidiately without any closure whatsoever.* TIME TRAVELER Huh. the TIME TRAVELER pulls up a picture on their device; the building itself seems to have disappeared from the photo; (Like Marty McFlyim back to the future) Contd Must be the wrong dimension… But then JOHN D. ROCKERFELLER Is MURDERED at the height of STANDARD OIL. Oh no! So that's what happened… Yeah? He was a bastard. Well! Damn. {Enter athe Multiverse} So you're everywhere all the time, And I got nothing left to run And we already talked the talk And we're already back to one Let the waves blow over, Cravings, tasting haze of periwinkle, heaven waking Putting every penny on the promise that you got me But you never save me, Really, Jesus? Racist! I got a lot of stakes in the game And all these snakes keep weighing in! I got these eight days left inside my head, And I'm a murderer Remember to admit his wrong you are Next time the caw will crow. I crevice drawing under rock Inside the undertoe, My surfboard heading home for shore, My body going under. Oh Conan, what have you done. I'm not sure yet. So? Go get him, you old hoot. I just want to watch a little longer! *feathers ruffled* What! It is comical So i'm stuck inside the equinox on Wall Street catatonic, Adding up the dollar signs and losses, Well now, Got my hosts and calling cards, And struck with dirty dozens Doesn't anybody understand? [no. Nobody does.] Certainly, you know, nobody does this. Certainly, I'm folding all the shirts for all the husbands Certainly my love was lost, but for sure I didn't want it. For sure, I dropped a couple rocks I had inside my pocket . Well done, folks. Guess what? Those aren't crocodile tears I'm crying. I'm dehydrated but they're called psychic cause Nobody knows where they come from; Some would form the thought that you got water trapped inside your soul It only happens when the sun sheds hard tears Here, solar panels Animals and tragic circumstances, Fucking Asholes Never shine your diamond on the twilight, Shooting stars; Never shoot at birds from cars; Remember, They are flying. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you, done. I swallowed you whole, I swallows you whole, I swallowed you down some. I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you whole, I swallowed you up; I swallowed you whole I swallowed you whole, You know what the cost is Just a heads up, If you take a picture of a gamgstalkers face, They run away. The crime being committed is a non-contact form of combat, a scientifically proven biological weapon. When you begin to document this meticulously, a pattern of coordination begins to become established. It's no longer some sort of phenomenon, that can be written off as a symptom of a broken mind; The more evidence you gather, It becomes a verifiable crime. Remember that the point of it is to control you, to enslave your autonomy— to program you to believe something is wrong, when clearly, The signs of an awakened mind can pick out patterns in the construct of human social behavior that is not ours; it is a deficit in conciousness, a weakness, caused by the moral degradation of our souls in the societal world— A loss of God. And also remember, Humans have a history to seek and destroy which it does not understand, And cannot control— However, also, God comes in all forms. You must know when all is all. Okay, shh— Don't lock the door, now You got a pardon, You better run. I am an a-list celebrity; I am an “amen, sister— I hear that!” I am a medicine woman, A centrifugal figure, A ritual character, Skilled at charicature— A big Kimmel fan, A rick and a Morty, A woman a man, A puppet, the master, A cat in a hatbox, A blasphemous coffin; A wart on a warflower. Hm. Now who could possibly take that out of context? Soft surf rock at the equinox on Wall Street. I love all four stories, I rode all four horses, I put all four corners of the earth onto a surface Then I rolled it up Huh… Somebody does that. Leets go, hard core But don't forget the hot sauce Don't forget the — Smattercat?! SMATTERCAT?! SMAAAAAATERCAAAAAAAAAT! The Adventures of Atticus Catticus. Man, this is fucked up. I can't disagree with you. I can't get you out of my head (I want head) Can't get you out of my mind I find that You must want me dead Tan lines l You must want me off my meds! You want in me in bed at 9 sharp You know what!? You remind me of Harper. Now let's talk shop, Calm, little brother I went with the other oath— Don't you belong to God? Who's on the phone? Donald Trump. Tell him “no.” No to what? Just tell him “no.” Then he'll get here faster. So what do you got in your supplements? Simple psychology; Have a red album. Nah that. I got gold gold balls on all of my prostitutes Pulled apart orgasms, Never been touched, sire. Never have I took forgranted this passion( Never have —that flex— Theatrical pangentry. Never went Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich Ham sandwhich GODDAMMIT. I thought you grant wishes. — also in charge of summoning. Part time. Well what are you mad about?! At least you got a job! I'm so sick of this kid, He just summons “Ham sandwhich” What's wrong with that? I gave him “ham sandwhich”, Alright?! All kinds, And you know what? That guy has all kinds of magic— All the kinds— Every kind you can imagine, And no matter what, He just wants. Hmmmm…: …. Come on. Summon a dog, or something… A new bike… ……. ……..:::: ……. …. Ham sandwhich. GOD DAMMIT. …and a kite. …what was that? I want a kite. Y…you want to fly a kite. Ya. Alright! But first. An, God. Ham Sandwhich. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? SO WHAT I LOVED NANCY REGAN! SHE HAD THE BEST CATCHPHRASES! AND ALL THE KENNEDIES! FUCK WITH ME. Somebody shoot that bitch. But sir— Before she runs for president. But sir… THINK OF IT LIKE KILLING BABY HITLER. You're right. TAKE THE SHOOOOOT. MEANWHILE… In the MULTIDIMENTIONAL SPACETIME SURVEILANCE FACILITY Oh good. What's that. Someone one assasinated me. That's good. I'll say. Wouldn't want you to run for president. Someone still would have had to elected me. Oh, you mean like in all these parallels over here. *shrugs* They'll collapse eventually. They haven't yet. I just got assasinated. Wait for it. I've been waiting. I don't get why you hate me so much. I'm indifferent, really, just waiting for something exciting. I just got assasinated. And I just got a ten cent raise. From what I can tell, doesn't make much of a differences. It's like, limited assimilation in this dimension; Did I correct you— Lessons, I'm not making any promises. Look out little brother! I set them on you. Got to put the pudding in your pot— And don't forget to floss. What's corrextions? Look, I'm anatomically correct— Shut up, Ken. I don't click on videos or images Because I love him It's just a crush, A pair of wooden crutches A horcrux And a fox A crucifix And Sunday Brunches. It's just a bunch of pictures, Edits, autographs, Extended plays It's just an infinite inside my head— It's been a couple days. A couple miles down And sure to go, You're all for it— Soon you got to know Whatever you done Has come for your— Stop the truck for misuse of four muses And autotune to ruin it— Your mascot is a narwhal But you're rooting for the Bruins. What is even a Bruin? A bunch of racist frat boys and hot bitches in sororities and covens? Bet that Okay, Like, I fall in love But just to write a bit I pour my heart out in a song And for the moment I could make forget i'm ugly Even if for the duration of the half time; Half a pack at halftime, Half a pack at bedtime 20 cigarettes on your 2020 vision. Three beers, Then three beers Thirty three years and he still won't love me Thirty three years and I'm still no woman. He show first, So I shot back I forgot rock doves Served a purpose Postage For lost albums on the surface Surfboards For hot rod bod host, I offered up Conan, Now pick that hard eye Banjo up Water dance Pick that apple, Off the tree With not a scratch Hands tied behind your back; Baggage claim, River dance Pick it up without a fork You whispered us a state of trance For God's socks, If I fly coach, Low ball Lost a fortune Don't call me ‘bud' I think about your walk all day; Like, Three or four times, maybe Not no noodle soup, you wonder But you're asking for a Ballroom. Haggard. God did far too good a job on you; As the car jumped over the moon. I complete your meat puppet, But recently went vegan Line them up and then A heart attack, A hot bath, And a hammock. You got your offer, But I want it back, I want my roses. Golden proses so rit and rattle. I rot in hell for all I've done, then scramble; Damn. I just can't get you off my head without ramble You're probably on a tour bus; She's pulling out all the stop— But you're my monster, just know that Although I'm on top of her turf. So much for Service Monday. So much for making money on a conduit, a conduct. So much for love as. He aim for the head; I aim for the neck; He aim for the heart, I duck, I fall in her eyes, High water— No more cam tide Sunsets. What, I get you really wanted oceans, So you got them. Godsense. Pull, Conan Pull— Haul in! All in on your cards, But take the occult off them; Offering? Totem pole. More than one? I love to hope. Fix your face. Pull the plug— I'm off till Sunday, Off till Sunday. Ten days to Tuesday, You want no more Ten days to Sunday And ten more before that; Ten tongues before dawn, And other I slaughter And slaught cross the sloth, I wither, Your honor. Ten tales too soon, Ten wide my diamonds; Ten eyes in your Isis, My mind, Orion. Ten lost in the Outback; Ten lost on your mass, tongue Two whipped at the alter— I called her about that. So to the effect you check your fax and press the send, I'm steady living, never coming back, Or cap the president— Never living, Never listing residence on Madison You're stuck inside my half-life That I'm mad besides the medicine. You're stuck inside my past, Like all the knives inside my back, And still I fondly think upon a laugh, As ice cream sundaes, Half a sandwich Appetite for having all you are inside my master work of art, The world, your face I cut from clay inside my hands And I still have you in my swollen arteries, and trees the veins, The wicked summers and the bitter winters came, But did not cross paths, So to not bear ties, and to not plug Holes in the hull of the whole ship I think I sunk overtime instead of rather All at once, You know, It doesn't suffix What it takes to turn it back from “Love him” Into nothing. 20 hours passed and 20 cigarettes and ivory towers, But forgive the lives inside of Mormon wives and ice cold showers— Scatterbrained but highly trained in “Never Happened.” “Didn't matter.” So you roll it up into a movie script and call them actors. Why'd you flash me, dancer, Don't you know how bad I want that? Out inside your dozens, for my cinnamon coated combat Nail box fires Had you ordered Your desires Flow the golden drifter Fear of rivers never frozen. Don't you know the sun draws close But the heart grows cold, But the want goes harder? Don't you know the doors get shut, And the Kings get cut, And the wind blows wilder? Don't you know the stars just fall from the sky (They all fall from the sky, They fell from the sky) Don't you know We're all gonna die Put a trial to the wand, Fore you take her heart out Ten times.

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.au Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In Episode #31, Parker and Ryan preview the Hero World Challenge, chat about a PGA Tour and Korn Ferry Tour assurance plan, and dig into Gary McCord's idea related to the future of the PGA Tour. Gary has clearly done some work on this and we find it an intriguing concept.

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.auFind Benny at https://www.socialremedy.com.au Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Christmas is a beautiful time of the year, but it can also be a melting pot of triggers, emotions, stress, leading to very dysregulated nervous systems.. which can lead to poor choices or even some self sabotage. Me and a host of other beautiful previous guests, experts and people who have made it through these times have got your back. For the 25 days of Christmas I will be posting 25 mini episodes with a tip every single day to help get you through.Fore more info or to work with me go to www.iquitalcohol.com.au Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Heute mal zu viele Postkartensprüche, aber trotzdem etwas Golfweisheiten, vor allem von Rory. Natürlich 3 Fragen an den Pro, Social-Media Fund der Woche und ja Puttn Canner kann wirklich gut putten. Wir wünschen euch viel Spaß, wenig FORE und viele Vögel :)

In Episode 31, we chat with J.T. Carney, fresh off of his experience playing in the RSM Pro-Am with none other than Sami Valimaki. What a week to be paired with the first PGA Tour winner from Finland! J.T. gives us insight on how he got into the event, the ins and outs of the Pro-Am and much more. We hope you enjoy!

Alors que la COP30 de Bélem au Brésil s'est achevée sur un accord que beaucoup jugent décevant, notamment car il ne fait aucune mention de la sortie des énergies fossiles, les États-Unis de Donald Trump ont annoncé un plan pour ouvrir aux forages pétroliers et gaziers plus de 400 millions d'hectares dans les eaux fédérales. Pendant la campagne de 2020, Donald Trump avait largement repris à son compte un vieux slogan républicain : « Drill baby, drill » (« Fore, bébé, fore »). Depuis son retour au pouvoir, son obsession pour les énergies fossiles ne s'est pas démentie et il entend encore accélérer la production intérieure de pétrole aux dépens des énergies vertes. En fin de semaine dernière, en pleine COP30, il a franchi un nouveau cap en annonçant l'ouverture aux forages pétroliers offshore de plus de 400 millions d'hectares dans les eaux fédérales, y compris dans des zones préservées depuis des décennies. Fidèle à lui-même, Donald Trump s'est fait un plaisir d'inclure la totalité de la côte californienne, l'État de sa bête noire, le démocrate Gavin Newsom (qui, lui, s'est rendu à Bélem et continue d'investir massivement dans les énergies vertes). Une décision « idiote », a réagi le gouverneur de Californie, jurant de tout faire pour empêcher les plates-formes pétrolières de venir polluer la côte californienne. Si les plans de l'administration incluent aussi une partie de la Floride, Gavin Newsom feint de s'étonner de ce que la zone envisagée pour les explorations pétrolières exclut le large de Mar-a-Lago, la résidence de Trump en Floride Les zones préservées de l'Alaska également menacées Épargnées aussi la Géorgie et la Caroline du Sud, deux États républicains dont les gouverneurs se disent « très favorables » à l'exploration pétrolière... mais de préférence chez les autres. D'autant que tous ont en mémoire l'explosion meurtrière de la plate-forme Deepwater Horizon et la marée noire dévastatrice de 2010 qui avait ravagé une grande partie de la côte du golfe du Mexique. En revanche, des territoires jusque-là restés vierges de toute exploitation industrielle comme le nord de l'Alaska pourraient bientôt s'offrir au plus offrant. Ce territoire états-unien voisin de la Russie et situé au nord du Canada est pourtant l'un des mieux préservés au monde. On trouve encore dans cette région de l'océan Arctique des ours polaires et d'autres espèces protégées. De façon un peu cynique, il y a une certaine logique : en relançant la production de pétrole, Donald Trump alimente le réchauffement climatique et la fonte des glaces, qui révèlent de nouveaux gisements à exploiter dans les régions polaires du globe. À lire aussiÉtats-Unis: «Drill baby drill», une politique qui ne séduit pas tous les Texans Pas de quoi émouvoir les lobbyistes de l'or noir : l'Institut américain du pétrole salue un plan « historique » insistant sur les milliards de dollars qui devraient rentrer dans les caisses de l'État fédéral... et accessoirement dans les poches des multinationales du pétrole. À l'inverse, les écologistes s'inquiètent, soulignant que chacun des 34 permis d'exploitation qui vont être mis aux enchères dans les prochaines années va produire du pétrole et rejeter du carbone dans l'atmosphère pendant les quarante prochaines années.

Send us a textSome tee times unlock more than a fairway. They open doors for families fighting through the longest days of their lives. We sat down with Ryan Bush from the Fore Hadley Foundation and our friend Mike of Beautiful Golf Courses to share how a daughter's story became a force for good—funding CDH research, survivor scholarships, and NICU grants—through an annual charity auction that also happens to deliver the most exciting golf itinerary you'll build all year.We walk through Hadley's journey and the reality of congenital diaphragmatic hernia, then map the three pillars Fore Hadley supports: cutting-edge pediatric research across leading centers, college scholarships for survivors who often return to care as nurses and NICU pros, and the Angels in the NICU program that sends rolling grants and holiday care packages nationwide. The heart of the engine is the auction: members and clubs donate rounds, public courses offer select tee times, and golfers bid on access to private clubs, international links, and serious stay-and-plays. Think Old Head in Ireland, Lofoten in Norway, Dismal River in the Sandhills, Dormy Network experiences, and West Coast and Southeast standouts—all curated and amplified to a massive audience.You'll get practical, no-fluff guidance on how to register and bid on Handbid, when the action spikes, and how to sort lots to build a year of golf you'll talk about for a decade. We also spotlight why donating a tee time or hosting an accompanied round is a no-brainer for clubs: tax-deductible support, real social reach, and new fans who return for merch, meals, and more. Along the way, we trade notes on Sand Valley, Bandon Trails, Arizona peak season sticker shock, and why the planning text thread is the best part of any trip.If golf is your love language, this is your moment. Download Handbid, search “Fore Hadley,” set your watchlist, and get your card on file before the opening bell. Bid big, book that dream round, and help families who need it most. If this moved you, subscribe, share the show with your group chat, and leave a quick review so more golfers can find and fuel the mission.https://events.handbid.com/auctions/fore-hadley-and-bgcs-2025-beautiful-golf-charity-auctionSupport the showSpecial thank goes out to our show sponsors:

In Episode 30, we chat with Glenn Birchfield. Glenn is the Build Shop Manager for Peoples Golf, which owns The Peoples Clubs at Tour Stock Putters. Glenn has been putting his stamp on the club building world for years now, and gives us a peek behind the curtain about equipment, Tour Issue product, and his love for putters.

Fore more exclusive content and ad-free early episodes go to https://www.patreon.com/c/badfriends Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

What lessons can you learn about selling from your kids? What lessons can you learn about debt from your kids? While we didn't get to participate in this year's community garage sale, my son did collect, clean and sell golf balls at a golf tournament recently. Some of the lessons he learned: Timing - know your market and their needs Networking - with other kids selling other items (like lemonade) Preparation - collecting, cleaning, sorting, labelling and pricing Investors - (dad, Shawn) to help buy supplies, provide the table for selling, etc. Using Revenue to Grow the Business (listen for the story of the golf ball cleaner) Let us know if you enjoy this episode and, if so, please share it with your friends! Or, you can support the show by visiting our Patreon page: https://www.patreon.com/crushingDebt   To contact George Curbelo, you can email him at GCFinancialCoach21@gmail.com or follow his Tiktok channel - https://www.tiktok.com/@curbelofinancialcoach   To contact Shawn Yesner, you can email him at Shawn@Yesnerlaw.com or visit www.YesnerLaw.com. And please consider a donation to Pancreatic Cancer research and education by joining Shawn's team at MY Legacy Striders: http://support.pancan.org/goto/MyLegacy2026 

Betsy Fore is a serial entrepreneur, CEO, and investor with nearly 20 years of leadership experience. She's the author of Built on Purpose: Discover Your Deep Inner Why and Manifest the Business of Your Dreams, founding partner of Velveteen Ventures, and a trailblazer in consumer products for children and the planet. Notably, Betsy scaled Tiny Organics past $13 million in revenue in just 24 months, took Wonder Woof! from scrappy startup to Oprah's Favorite Things, and was the first Native American woman to raise a Series A for a consumer food startup. On this episode we talk about: Growing up in a small Midwestern town, working every day since 13, and becoming a leading business creator Turning a garage-tinkering childhood into a career as a toy inventor, then product startup founder How relentless optimism, reinvention, and standing atop “a mountain of failures” led to big wins Advice for founders: building with community, manifesting vision, securing funding, and the importance of thinking big—even if you're starting small Behind the scenes of Tiny Organics' explosive first-year growth, building a cult following, and scaling product through grass-roots founding families Top 3 Takeaways Every breakthrough product stands on a mountain of failed attempts; grit and adaptability win. Community-first feedback loops create true brand evangelists and drive authentic scale. Dreaming big isn't just mindset—it's a practical approach to manifesting opportunity and wealth wherever you start. Notable Quotes “For every success, there's a mountain of failures you're standing on.” “You have to feel your deep inner ‘why' to reveal it and build on it.” “Not every company needs to be venture-backed, but every founder can build generational wealth by manifesting their vision.” Connect with Betsy Fore: Website: betsyfore.com ✖️✖️✖️✖️

In Episode 29, we chat with Jordan Crouse, PGA, sales rep for Criquet Shirts. We hope you enjoy learning about Jordan's interesting career, the ins and outs of the sales side of the golf business, and Criquet as a brand. Thank you for listening!

In the spring and early summer talk a walk in the garden section of any big store or even typical smaller plant nurseries.  Mostly you see peppers, tomatoes, squash, cucumbers and a few other veggies and herbs. There are so many other options though and many are tougher than our stand alone favorites.  Fore instance so many people love growing tomatoes but in many areas they are plagued by early and late blight.  You can usually get a decent yield and then you hit a wall, well why not grow tomatillos instead.  They make fantastic salsa, are great grilled and … Continue reading →

2025 is coming to a close, and the boys have put together a plan to come out swinging in 2026! We hope you will enjoy learning about the efforts made to move Fore Love of Golf to another level next year. There are lots of exciting things in store and we look forward to going on the journey with you all!

Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and the Clones rally to defend Kamino from a Separatist invasion lead by Asajj Ventress and General Grievous in this episode of The Clone Wars.   In this fully armed and operational episode of Podcast Stardust, we discuss: Our overall thoughts on this episode, How and why the Clones think of Kamino as home and if it makes sense, The first meeting between Asajj Ventress and General Grievous, How The Clone Wars works so hard to protect one line of dialogue from Revenge of the Sith, A controversial kiss and its history, Clone 99, and more. Fore more discussion of The Clone Wars, check out episode 942.   Thanks for joining us for another episode! Subscribe to Podcast Stardust for all your Star Wars news, reviews, and discussion wherever you get your podcasts. And please leave us a five star review on Apple Podcasts.   Find Jay and her cosplay adventures on J.Snips Cosplay on Instagram. Follow us on social media: Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Pinterest | YouTube. T-shirts, hoodies, stickers, masks, and posters are available on TeePublic. Find all episodes on RetroZap.com.

In our Fred McGriff episode, Parker chats about current events in golf and hints at an announcement for next week's show!

In Episode 26, Justin, Ryan, and Parker break down 3, tier 2 stories from the 2025 PGA Tour Season. With Rory, Scottie and The Ryder Cup taking center stage, we thought we would break down a few things that were a bit under the radar.

Betsy Fore is a serial entrepreneur, CEO, and investor with nearly 20 years of leadership experience. She's the author of Built on Purpose: Discover Your Deep Inner Why and Manifest the Business of Your Dreams, founding partner of Velveteen Ventures, and a trailblazer in consumer products for children and the planet. Notably, Betsy scaled Tiny Organics past $13 million in revenue in just 24 months, took Wonder Woof! from scrappy startup to Oprah's Favorite Things, and was the first Native American woman to raise a Series A for a consumer food startup. On this episode we talk about: Growing up in a small Midwestern town, working every day since 13, and becoming a leading business creator Turning a garage-tinkering childhood into a career as a toy inventor, then product startup founder How relentless optimism, reinvention, and standing atop “a mountain of failures” led to big wins Advice for founders: building with community, manifesting vision, securing funding, and the importance of thinking big—even if you're starting small Behind the scenes of Tiny Organics' explosive first-year growth, building a cult following, and scaling product through grass-roots founding families Top 3 Takeaways Every breakthrough product stands on a mountain of failed attempts; grit and adaptability win. Community-first feedback loops create true brand evangelists and drive authentic scale. Dreaming big isn't just mindset—it's a practical approach to manifesting opportunity and wealth wherever you start. Notable Quotes “For every success, there's a mountain of failures you're standing on.” “You have to feel your deep inner ‘why' to reveal it and build on it.” “Not every company needs to be venture-backed, but every founder can build generational wealth by manifesting their vision.” Connect with Betsy Fore: Website: betsyfore.com ✖️✖️✖️✖️

In episode Barry Bonds, Parker discusses happenings from this week in golf. From Xander getting off the Schauffele Schneid, to a fellow Camel grabbing a PGA Tour card, it was a big week for a number of players!

This week Blake Smith and Karen Stollznow are joined by clinical psychologist Dr. Brian A. Sharpless, author of Monsters on the Couch, to discuss cannibalism—what it is, why humans have done it, and how the taboo shows up in archaeology, medicine, psychology, and horror cinema. They cover definitions (endocannibalism vs. survival cannibalism), prion diseases such as Kuru, criminal and paraphilic cases, and pop-culture touchpoints from Ravenous to The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, plus legend-tripping at Lovelock Cave and the “giants” folklore around the Mound Builder myth.Don't forget to grab Karen's latest: Bitch: The Journey of a Word

NPT Enforcement and the Golden Dome Defense Concept GUEST NAME: Henry Sokolski Henry Sokolski, executive director of the Non-proliferation Policy Education Center, debates whether the US should abandon the 1970 Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT), citing foreign criticism and industry constraints. He argues the US should stay to enforce the NPT by clarifying red lines, justifying the bombing of nuclear facilities. Sokolski also discusses the proposed Golden Dome defense system, intended to protect the Western Hemisphere against missiles and drones. The viability of the system, particularly regarding Low Earth Orbit defenses, remains unclear and requires greater Congressional buy-in.

HEADLINE: China's Economic Contradictions: Deflation and Consumer Wariness Undermine GDP Growth ClaimsGUEST NAME: Fraser Howie SUMMARY: John Batchelor speaks with Fraser Howie about China facing severe economic contradictions despite high World Bank forecasts. Deflation remains rampant with frequently negative CPI and PPI figures. Consumer wariness and high youth unemployment at one in seven persist throughout the economy. The GDP growth figure is viewed as untrustworthy, manufactured through debt in a command economy. Decreased container ship arrivals point to limited actual growth, exacerbated by higher US tariffs. Economic reforms appear unlikely as centralization under Xi Jinping continues.

On this episode, Heather is back from the Ryder Cup with a few things to say. Episode Sponsors:To explore coverage, visit ASPCAPetInsurance.com/absolutelyFor a limited time, Boulevard is offering new customers 20% off your first year subscription. Visit JoinBlvd.com to learn more.Earn points on rent and around your neighborhood, wherever you call home, by going to joinbilt.com/absolutely.Don't be the friend who's always complaining about feeling like garbage—do something about it with LiverMD! Head to 1MD.org and use code [ABSOLUTELY] for 15% off your first order.For a limited time, Nutrafol is offering our listeners ten dollars off your first month's subscription and free shipping when when you go to nutrafol.com/absolutelynot.Find Stouffer's in the freezer aisle today.CAKES body covers have become a staple in my wardrobe this fall. To try them for yourself, go to cakesbody.com. You can even use code ABSOLUTELY for 20% off your first order.Produced by Dear MediaSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

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