Podcasts about Gotta

(00:00-27:54) Maybe we'll call the texters today. Auto-asphyxiation. Propecia for beards. A blank dossier is a good dossier. Martin's CBC grooming. Doug thinks the best coaching job in college football is Texas. The Texas A&M milkmen. Josh Pate's has a great voice. NASCAR keeps Chuckles Marlowe busy. Martin has busy hands and curious fingers. How do you do, Connor Bedard? How Jackson became producer of TMA. Name that foot.(28:02-55:49) You wanted Kriss Kross, you got it. Where'd those feet pictures end up? Worst celebrity feet. Finger toes. You gotta own it. Tim's lock of the week on Spread Zone is BYU +12.5. Indiana's got a lot going on. Hinkle Field House. Fixing Jackson's 7-iron today. Doug won't cover the Missouri State bowl game. Larry Eustachy.(55:59-1:24:17) Chairman is an offensive guru on NCAA Football '26. Katie Woo leaving the Cardinals to cover the Dodgers. Vacationing in St. Barth's. Lane Kiffin still the main story on ESPN's website. The worst business moves of all time. Sniffin' the johns in the front yard. Catering to the people at peace with the world. You don't see a lot of dungeons. Carpenter Matt is back on the line. Got bad knees. Can you survive an 80 foot fall?See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

ALERT!! we have an UPDATE because meg and i caught someone we know HATING LIVE IN THE ACTION and we NEEEEEEEEED TO TALK ABOUT IT!! we're also talking about what those mormon ladies are up to (piss play), flirting hard, and the prison of the instagram respost button. lock in lover girls!! last meg episode of 2025!!

Chris and Ethan break down conference championship weekend, highlighting all of the top plays and injuries that will certainly impact your DFS lineups come Saturday.

- Jake Gadon, CBS13 - Trysta Krick, Heat Check & Let Her Shoot - James Ham, The Insiders, 1320 Kings Insider & The Kings Beat

00:00 – 21:55 – Colts-Jaguars on Sunday, 10 year anniversary of the streak starting, Blake Grupe’s role going forward, Jaguars wide receiver injuries, court storm appropriateness, college radio broadcast rankings 21:56 – 30:00 – Butler basketball head coach Thad Matta joins us and discusses the Bulldogs hot start, Finley Bizjack, Red Panda, more notes on the team, Red Panda’s appearance fee 30:01 – 50; 46 – Scott Agness of Fieldhouse Files joins us to discuss last night’s lost to the Nuggets, Nikola Jokic’s performance, Jarace Walker’s season to this point, where are we at on the WNBA league negotiations on a new CBA?, upcoming birthdays for James and Marc, we play I GOTTA KNOW 50;47 – 1;00;24 WIBC’s Jason Hammer joins us and delivers us A.I. Jeff Rickard, his TNF play, IU/Ohio State likes, Colts/Jaguars play, his Bears/Packers play is upsetting MarcSupport the show: https://1075thefan.com/the-wake-up-call-1075-the-fan/See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

On episode 213 of the Sofa Kingdom Podcast cowbells and theme parks Find more Sofa Kingdom Podcast at SofaKingdomOfc on instagram https://www.instagram.com/sofakingdomofc/ Audio podcast is on all major podcast platforms just search "Sofa Kingdom Podcast"  

The news of Texas covered today includes:Our Lone Star story of the day: Texas Republicans to lose another incumbent in Congress to retirement but this one has a twist of a twin thrown in. Plus other political and campaign news such as RINO state Rep. VanDeaver deciding a re-election bid to the House isn't something he wants to go through.Democrats throw in the towel on their legal challenge to Tarrant County's redistricting. Tarrant County Judge Tim O'Hare continues to impress as a true pro-taxpayer conservative leader.Our Lone Star story of the day is sponsored by Allied Compliance Services providing the best service in DOT, business and personal drug and alcohol testing since 1995.Corpus Christi man gains notoriety (or infamy) for handing out cheap Harbor Freight machetes to vagrants and bums. Gotta have something to clear out new bum camps with under those stream bridges!Another bad asylum call: Afghan national allegedly threatened to bomb Fort Worth. Afghan accused of killing national guard soldier in DC was known, and reported, by many to “spiraling into mania” but was given asylum anyway.Listen on the radio, or station stream, at 5pm Central. Click for our radio and streaming affiliates. www.PrattonTexas.com

Two months ago, a now-fired Sucker Punch developer lost her job due to an ill-timed social media post, and she's been fairly quiet ever since, at least until now. In a new article, artist Drew Harrison talks about what befell her, but -- truth be told -- she seems to have missed the biggest part of her own story: How much she could have (and did) harm the hundreds of other people that worked for years on Ghost of Yotei, only to disrupt the entire marketing roll-out of the game on the precipice of its hyped release. Let's revisit the situation with new context and insights, and see if we can make sense of whether her dismissal was fair, unfair, or perhaps just the product of the environment many industry professionals gleefully cheered on when the shoe was on the other foot. Plus: Death Stranding 2 gets an ESRB rating for a PC release, PlayStation 3 emulation is actively being worked on outside of Sony's walls, Stellar Blade 2 is abandoning PlayStation as its publishing partner, RAM price spikes threaten the future of console pricing, and more. Then: Listener inquiries! Did Sony's recent update to PlayStation Portal ruin the functionality of the PS button? What happened to the so-called "One Sony" initiative? Could an ex-Housemarque developer's new game spark a renewed love for arcade-style romps? What's the latest on the misadventures of an entity called Young Colin? Please keep in mind that our timestamps are approximate, and will often be slightly off due to dynamic ad placement. 0:00:00 - Intro0:32:10 - Pursuing your dream0:44:04 - Walking inspiration0:49:29 - Young Colin0:52:29 - Black Friday memories1:04:24 - Colin's Intergalactic drama1:17:41 - Fired Sucker Punch employee speaks out1:43:21 - Death Stranding 2 PC release leaked1:47:39 - New info on PlayStation emulation from MysticRyan2:00:30 - Sony's PC releases are declining2:04:33 - Stellar Blade 2 will be multiplatform2:13:22 - Is PS5 safe from RAM price increases?2:26:16 - New Marathon closed beta2:37:04 - December PS+ games2:43:23 - Splitgate 2 returns in December2:45:38 - Far Cry is getting a TV show2:49:42 - What We've Been Playing3:08:52 - Shoutout to Sektori3:11:59 - Portal for Christmas3:14:57 - Portal's PS button change3:17:41 - What happened to One Sony?3:25:03 - Why drives the love for retro games?3:37:14 - PSA on getting your partner into games Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Dallas didn’t play so the NFL felt BORING as hell… naps, walks in the park, folks catching up on Netflix — YOU KNOW WHY! But today wasn’t about the Cowboys… this one about Shedeur Sanders, that 49ers defense, and Jerry Jeudy showing his ass on the sideline. Bubba breaks down EVERYTHING:

NERDSoul.DÉCKOR: https://www.etsy.com/shop/NERDSoulDeckor We gotta take Vecna DOWN! Stranger Things S4 Part 1 Review Hawkins Gotta Stop Acting Like This Is Normal | NERDSoul Covering: #NERDSoul #StrangerThings #Vecna Cast: Jay Sherer: https://x.com/JaySherer Solar Grey: https://www.instagram.com/backinthedeck/  

Anime boobs, more fall 2025 shows & video games. What more do you need? Join the AniTAY crew to find out as we chat more about the Fall 2025 Anime Season and our video game consoles!This episode's members: Hybridmink, Requiem & Marquan with Marquan handling the editing duties.The AniTAY Podcast is a bi-weekly podcast brought to you every other Wednesday. It is available on all your favorite podcast services! If you like us, be sure to subscribe to your favorite service and give us 5 stars! Your support is much appreciated and will help us grow and continue to provide this style of content.Intro: 0:00:00–0:01:16Housekeeping: 0:01:17–0:06:15The Chainsawman Movie: 0:06:16–0:16:32 (to avoid spoilers jump to 0:16:32)ShowsTojima-kun Wants To Be A Kamen Rider — 0:16:32–0:21:39Gachiakuta — 0:21:39–0:26:42Sanda — 0:26:43–0:31:00One Punch Man S3–0:31:00–0:35:20Campfire Cooking S2–0:35:26–0:38:25Ranma ½ S2–0:38:25–0:40:22My Gift Lvl 9999 Unlimited Gacha — 0:40:25–0:42:48News — 0:42:49–0:56:22Question of the Week — What is your favorite video game console? — 0:56:22–01:26:28End — 01:26:28–01:28:11Missed the previous episode of the AniTAY Podcast? Check it out here: https://open.spotify.com/episode/7KoboRDb47Yt2TyP8ieMTE?si=as0g8PgXSE6lsK6pOcs-PQItinerary

Josh Rodriguez and Matt Carlson talk about the Late Pick 3 at Sha Tin on 11/30/25!The Daily Racing Form Black Friday Sale is now LIVE through December 1st!20% off on of your favorite DRF Products!https://shop.drf.com/?utm_source=drf&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=bf2025Help support OTWL by signing up for AMWager and get a 100% First Deposit Match up to $150 for new account holders. Click the link to sign up: https://link.amwager.com/OTWLFollow us on Twitter @wrong_lead​​​​​​ Follow us on Instagram and Threads! @otwleadRead our articles and check out our shirts and other merch at www.onthewronglead.com

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On this week's Monday Motivation, Lucy and I are talking about how it doesn't matter how much personal development work we do if we don't actually do the thing.You can learn and reflect endlessly, but real change only happens when insight becomes action.We dive into how growth takes time and consistent practice. It asks for patience, repetition and putting in the reps, even when progress feels slow or subtle.We also challenge the belief of “I don't have time”. Because often, it's not time we're lacking… it's prioritisation. And when something truly matters, we do find a way to make space for it.This episode is a reminder that only you can create the changes you're longing for — and yes, there's a little tough love in there, but only because we know action is what works.We hope there's something in here that supports you this week.Love,Polly & Lucy xDownload The Breath Check-Up - your FREE guide to understanding how well you're breathing right now. Download my energising 5 Minute Morning Practice to get your day started in the best way possible. To find out more about my membership The Inner Space go to: https://www.pollywarren.com/theinnerspaceEmail me at: info@pollywarren.comhttps://www.pollywarren.com/https://www.instagram.com/pollywarrencoaching/

Send us a textOn this week's Monday Motivation, Polly and I are talking about how it doesn't matter how much personal development work we do if we don't actually do the thing.You can learn and reflect endlessly, but real change only happens when insight becomes action.We dive into how growth takes time and consistent practice. It asks for patience, repetition and putting in the reps, even when progress feels slow or subtle.We also challenge the belief of “I don't have time”. Because often, it's not time we're lacking… it's prioritisation. And when something truly matters, we do find a way to make space for it.This episode is a reminder that only you can create the changes you're longing for — and yes, there's a little tough love in there, but only because we know action is what works.We hope there's something in here that supports you this week.Love,Polly & Lucy x Support the showOrder my book, SHINY HAPPY SINGLES (UK) / THRIVE SOLO (US & Canada) at: https://www.lucymeggeson.com/book Download my FREE PDF 'The Top 10 Answers To The Most Irritating Questions That Single People Get Asked On The Regular...& How To (Devilishly) Respond'? Go to: https://www.lucymeggeson.com/questions Join the waitlist for my membership, Thrive Solo: https://www.lucymeggeson.com/thrivesolo Check out my YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/@thrivesolowithlucymeggeson Interested in my 1-1 Coaching? Work with me HERE: https://www.lucymeggeson.com/workwithme Join my private Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1870817913309222/?ref=share Follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thrivesolowithlucymeggeson/ Email me: lucy@lucymeggeson.com And thank you so much for listening!

Gotta love [hatred]; Single mother raised a surfer Caught the california coast And all the love of mother– Dontcha know it takes a whole village Don't you know You killed my whole village? I, mother, grew up there a sawdust Choctaw, I walked across mountains and Draw sandcastles on all antarctica? Dontcha know America the beautiful from day one wanted all us Sumwuns Homeless? I yearn for the coast, But all i got was motorcycles I'd die for the surf But all i got was homeless shelters, Project housing No, don't talk back, but on your conscious Are all the drugs you swallow Just to hold the thoughts back Of the sons and daughters slaughtered For your coastal homes on water From that old money in boston To the college that it funded But you're under the impression that you earned it. Never was a live lived any easier than these and he's and hers With blue eyes; Live on autopilot unless otherwise decided Undeserving of your turkey Put machines to work for war, with every word you wrote An order form to be ignored From old man tom On turkey day; You never would forget that he was red Till he regrets to get the President a gift Of sacrificial and indigenous proportions So much for portion and/or guun control The model girls are throwing up their supper Passing over butter on the cornbread Never apple cider, only water Meanwhile in africa, It not has rained a drop No more the currency prints pennies for your thoughts no store bought penne for these staten island italians either Lets just react to image over Islam; Can the taliban afford it? A four door? Guess not. Each day at 7 o clock They use a corvette as a gun And kets just hope this judge sits highly on her honor code Beyond nazi enforcement endorsements for internment camps And turn it down; You tried your very hardest But they want you in a dungeon Or the projects, Where its much worse Marcy houses But no more the rappers platinum come from Broken home; The trappers are all planted Have a plate or more of shit you can't afford Unless you're working late Adore commercial holidays for profit ignore the purpose of the slaughter Punish all the poor, but right after you rob them Take a snore and pour your water over corn atop the cob, And in another world just hope your boy comes home from war, Or door-to-door insurance sales You might as well just heads or tails To whether you will live or die to tell the tale Of black or white Over your pecan/pumpkin pie. I don't think i'm really supposed to celebrate “thanksgiving” this year. It seems even my ancestors were forcefully evicted and tortured simply just for existing. Why should i expect in this day and age it should be any different? I'm being targeted simply just for attempting to exist in the United State of America as an African American Indigenous. Perhaps, just as in the days of the great genocide–were I perfect and young with light skin I would be left alive, to marry and make good children. But instead I am seen as a thing, and left out easily in the street– Perhaps because they haven't use for me. It is easy to torture ugly things–from which some even draw enjoyment. And so it seems my time in the world is coming to an end, And if today i am thankful for anything at all, it is this. The end of a torturous and pitiful, wretched life. THE MISTRESS coils an emerald stone and tumbles it into her expanded palm— it momentarily transforms into an equally as emerald SNAKE before becoming once again a stone inside her palm. Enamoured, she looks it over with amusement, but still sighs with the dismissal of boredom. —oh look at that, I do have a snake. What do you know! She grumbles. Not much of snakes but they do, at the least, bring dreams to nightmares… Don't they! How posh. {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S flower. Unreleased — TBA 2026 Prod. By -Ū. DBA Blū Tha Gürū 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.

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S5: EP136: Packers/Vikings Recap. Love's Injury? Jacobs return! Watson gotta have it!! DEFENSE ON POINT! Sacks on Sacks!  & moreFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/Leap36podcast Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/leap36podcast/?hl=enTwitter: https://twitter.com/Leap36PodcastTikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@leap36podcast?lang=en Host: Pro Football Hall of Famer, former Green Bay Packers, LeRoy Butler www.LeRoyButlerinc.com Twitter: https://twitter.com/leap36Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/leap3636/?hl=enFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/leap36 Leap Vodka:https://leapspirits.comTwitter: https://twitter.com/LeapSpiritsFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/leapspiritsvodkaInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/leapspirits/ Co-Host: Gary Ellerson Roundtable & Postgame Show | Spectrum News 1 | WI Green Bay Gameday | ESPN Milwaukee & Madison | 620 WTMJ | Tundra Trio Network, Packer/Badger Alumni, Albany,GAFacebook:https://www.facebook.com/Ellerson42/Twitter: https://twitter.com/GaryEllerson?s=20&t=COYfdMVOsw1nE_i_NhJqQAInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/gellerson/?hl=en https://www.rpwradio.com/leap36 Special Thank You to our Sponsors:Potawatomi Hotel Casino  (800) 729-7244 www.paysbig.com  Potawatomi SportsBook: https://www.paysbig.com/casino/sportsbook?utm_source=PCH_social&utm_medium=organic_social&utm_campaign=PCH+Sportsbook  FB: https://www.facebook.com/paysbigLake Auto Groupwww.LakeAutoGroup.comLake Chevrolet 4201 South 27th St. Milwaukee, WI. (414) 281-5000www.lakechevymke.com Lake Ford (414) 281-6100 www.lakefordmke.com The Jewelry Center (414) 282-7241www.shopTJC.comhttps://www.facebook.com/shoptjc/ Leap Spirits www.LeapSpirits.comTorzala Brewing Company2018 S. 1st Street #207Milwaukee, WI.(414) 810-300www.TorzalaBrewing.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/torzalabrewingIntro/outro Music: Akira SheltonProducer: Mario Ortiz for RPW Recordings Red Planet Worx, LLCSocial Media: @MrOrtizmke www.RedPlanetWorx.com; rpwrecordings@gmail.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RPWRecordings/Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rpwrecordings/?hl=en#leap36podcast Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/leap-36-podcast-featuring-leroy-butler-gary-ellerson--5658524/support.

Happy Thanksgiving! On this special holiday episode Jack and Corey are joined by director/writer/actor Libby Ewing (Charliebird) to talk Nancy Meyers' quintessential midlife rom-com SOMETHING'S GOTTA GIVE (2003)! The three talk Thanksgiving, cozy movies, Nancy Meyers underrated reputation, Diane Keaton's untouchable charm, Jack Nicholson's butt, director's commentaries, Letterboxd top fours, mixing nitroglycerine and viagra, Crazy Town, AIM, Keanu Reeves childlike innocence, Frances McDormand's comedy chops, Amanda Peet's tour through the set, crying montages, and turtlenecks.Support the pod by joining our Patreon at patreon.com/cinemapossessedpod and unlock the Cinema Possessed Bonus Materials, our bi-monthly bonus episodes where we talk about more than just what's in our collection.Instagram: instagram.com/cinemapossessedpodTikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@cinemapossessedpodEmail: cinemapossessedpod@gmail.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Send us a textPain hits different when you have options—but does money actually help you heal, or just help you hide? We kick off with a raw look at heartbreak, wealth, and the myth that rich means invulnerable, using Mary J. as a cultural mirror. From there, we call out the entertainment machine for propping up familiar faces and clout over craft, then celebrate a real win: we're taking the pod live at a Black History event in Cartersville and bringing the internet energy to the village.Sports fans, we go deep on the Falcons' identity shift—finally getting under center, leaning on play action, and letting a nasty defense shine. We challenge the Kirk Cousins price tag, weigh coaching futures, and ask whether Atlanta keeps hiring for city vibes instead of football culture. Then it's quarterback politics 101: Shadur vs Dylan Gabriel is more than arm talent; it's size, scheme fit, whiteboard comfort, and the brutal truth that draft capital and job security often decide who plays.The culture conversation hits hard with Lizzo, Ozempic, and the body positivity rollercoaster. We push past slogans to talk health, standards, and why the real pressure point might be the BBL boom and algorithm-approved bodies. Confidence isn't a filter; it's habits and honesty. Tattoos become a thread through identity—how we rewrite ourselves after hard seasons, how policy and perception shape what we show, and why some stories need ink.We land on practical game: travel rules that keep the crew tight, wingman ethics, and how not to fumble a night by ordering like a baller on someone else's dime. It's funny, unfiltered, and useful—equal parts barbershop and breakdown. If you're here for sharp takes, locker room realism, and conversations that refuse to pick the easy side, you'll feel at home.If you rocked with this one, follow the show, share it with a friend, and drop a review telling us where you stand—does money change pain, or just the choices you make to outrun it?Support the show

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Kriss is back with another episode of the Insanity Check to cover this week's dose of insanity in the world. This week he's joined by Ro. Topics for the show: People need to start treating the word "privilege" as if it is a dirty word. It's okay to acknowledge and own your privilege if you use it for good and don't be an asshole Marjorie Taylor Greene is taking her racist bigotted ball and going home Everything is related to politics so the excuse that you don't "pay attention to politics" Is the media just doing propaganda or are is the media voices we're getting just the unqualified stupid people that are covering things they don't understand If A.I. is taking jobs, name the product Chuck Schumer is terrible as the Senate Minority Leader and there is a really easy fix for this that doesn't require having people wait until the next election Fun extra reading, the fun Google emails from their anti-trust case where Ad execs pressure and manipulate the Search team to make Google Search worse in order to juice ad revenue Email 1 Email 2   Guest: Ro @bookblerd.bsky.social‬   Like what you hear? Subscribe so you don't miss an episode!   Follow us on BlueSky: @InsanityReport  

Gotta love em.

How To Prepare for a Promise | You Gotta Go Out To Get In | Tim Bittle by TFH SF

The Time Riders: Part 16 To further the science. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. There was a knock at the door and Valentina came in, pushing a silver cart in front of herself. "Thought it might be time for refreshments," she chirped, her cheerful brown eyes not at all fazed by the scene in front of her. She looked at Becky. "I figured you might find some electrolytes handy, so I have green smoothies, strawberry-banana smoothies, coconut water, and OJ. That should fit the bill, right?" "Thank you so much, Val," Becky said, not at all bothered by being naked in front of this girl. Clearly it wasn't out of the ordinary, so she didn't care. Not to mention she'd referred to Mike and Karen as 'Master' and 'Mistress', so there was more to her employment than met the eye. Nanu was staring at Val's outfit again, making Val giggle. She left the cart and approached the tiny Egyptian girl now, smiling. "Watch this, Nanu," she said before pulling her arms into her chest and doing on spin, her short skirt flaring out and twirling around her, revealing her tiny black panties. Nanu clapped excitedly, her eyes wide with delight. "Great, now she'll want to own one of those outfits," Becky sighed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry for the fib I'm about to tell about you, Val." She looked at Nanu. "It's a pretty outfit, yes, but it's a slave's outfit, darling." The Egyptian girl blinked. "She is a slave?" "Can't you see the collar she's wearing?" Becky pointed out, indicating Val's black lace choker, with the glittering white stone on the front. "She; is a slave to the gods?" Nanu murmured, lapsing into thought about that before looking back at Becky. "Well, that doesn't sound so bad, does it? We should become their slaves." Karen broke down giggling, hiding her face in her husband's massive arm and kicking her feet cutely. Mike just smirked while Becky sighed and rolled her eyes. Valentina had no idea what had just been said, but based on her employers' reactions, whatever it was hadn't panned out as Becky intended. She decided to make herself scarce. "scuse me, servant stuff to do," she chimed, doing a curtsy before leaving and closing the door behind her. Nanu sat up, straddling Mike's waist and trying to figure out why the goddess was laughing. "Really?" Becky groused, giving Nanu a sour look. "I rescue you from slavery, and you decide to volunteer for it because it's these two?" "Do you blame me?" Nanu said with a shrug. "As long as I get fed and fucked, this seems like a good life with pretty clothing." "You do not need to be a slave for us to do that with you, Nanu," Karen pointed out, caressing her arm. "Well, nobody's fucked me yet," Nanu announced, trying to pout rather unsuccessfully. "What good is being a free woman if it doesn't get me cock when I need it?" "I see food and sex are her two primary drivers," Mike mused. "And possibly revenge," Becky added, watching as Nanu reached behind herself and took hold of the currently soft cock and began massaging it. "If you see her whispering into her palm, shit's about to get real. Honey, that might not be a good idea." "They said I don't need to be a slave to fuck them," Nanu replied, still stroking and now fingering herself, as if to get ready. "I want to be fucked." "Let the chips fall where they may, I guess," Becky said, sitting up and moving around the bed to join Karen. Soon, they were in a sapphic tangle, limbs wrapped around one another and kissing deeply. Nanu watched while she stroked the god's cock, slowly bringing him to life. Karen was on top of Becky now, sitting up and straddling with their legs scissored and their wet pussies kissing. She began to squirm her hips, and Becky did the same, groaning in pleasure. "Hmm, missed this too," she murmured. "As did I," Karen sighed, pulling Becky's leg up so that it was braced against her with her toes in the air. They slowly slithered together, nether lips mingling, clits brushing against one another. They were both wet enough that they could hear their lovemaking. The god was hard now, and Nanu was determined to do this right. She moved backward and pushed up as tall as she could on her knees, her cunt directly over the huge cockhead. She pressed against it and moved around, making sure she was good and wet. She felt the tip just push her lips apart slightly, and inched her way down. She bit her lower lip as the pressure increased, feeling a very slow penetration. She gasped and shuddered as the head went inside, stretching her in a way she hadn't felt before, except with a fist. There was an audible, wet and almost gristly 'pop' noise, followed by another from somewhere inside her hips structure as she sank down and sat very still. Becky and the two professors looked at her somewhat curiously. "Nanu?" Becky asked. "You okay, darling?" The tiny girl didn't respond, still staring off into space, her eyes unseeing. Finally, a single tear was trickling down her cheek. "Oh, well done, Ramrod," Karen said rather sarcastically to her husband, still looking at Nanu. "Even if you didn't break her in half, she's still going to have hip dysplasia." "I didn't make her do it," Mike pointed out. "I hope we have a wheelchair around, though." The Egyptian girl finally opened her eyes, slowly, and took several deep breaths, her palms resting on the god's muscular abdomen. She looked up at the ceiling, puckering her lips and making sucking sounds as she tried to center herself. She trembled as she pushed up on her knees, starting to move, and then shook almost violently as she sank back down. She squeaked and then whimpered, going still. Then she repeated the process, taking it slow. "Well, I'll be damned," Becky mused as she watched, still grinding her cunt against Karen's. "She actually did it and didn't kill herself. She'll be trying to sit on fire hydrants next." Nanu didn't make it more than three strokes up and down before she clapped her and over her mouth and screamed into it, her entire body shaking as she came. Once she'd recovered, she began moving up and down again, a little faster, determined to have at least one more orgasm before she died. She straightened her torso and kept moving up and down, her eyes closed and a shameless moaning escaping her lips. She lasted a little longer this time, but still ended up clamping both hands over her mouth and screeching, almost convulsing before she simply wilted, collapsing forward on to the god beneath her, eyes wide open but unseeing, chest heaving as she tried to breathe. "Determined little thing, isn't she?" Karen mused, looking on, even while she made love to Becky. How she'd missed this feeling with her favorite student. "You'd have to be, to survive what she did pretty much her whole life," the blonde replied with a sigh, undulating beneath her teacher. "She's such a sweetheart, but she surprises me sometimes with a brutal mercenary streak. And her morals are; decidedly different from ours." "Noted," Karen said before leaning down and kissing Becky heatedly, squashing their tits together. They were swallowing one another's tongues, grinding and girl-fucking their way to bliss, until Becky wailed into Karen's mouth, cumming hard. Karen followed moments later, bathing Becky's cunt in her sticky essence. They wrapped themselves up in one another, kissing deeply and just enjoying the shared post-orgasm bliss. It had been too long, and Becky would do her damndest to make sure that didn't happen again. She almost giggled through the kiss as she thought about the fact that she had access to a time machine, if she really needed to see to the issue. She and Karen rolled themselves together into Mike's side, snuggling into him while Nanu seemed quite content to simply remain motionless on top of him. Given that she was almost bolted down to his cock, she might not have had much of a choice in the matter, mind. "You okay there, Prof?" Becky asked, smirking up at him while she caressed her other idol. "Might've been a while since I've been in anyone quite this tight," Mike replied, smiling and pretending to wince, as if being clamped inside Nanu was somehow painful. "Excuse you, sir," Karen chimed, trying to sound indignant, but failing as she giggled. "Am I to understand I am not tight enough for you?" "You're the perfect amount of tightness, Gordon, and you know it," the huge blond man said, reaching over and caressing his wife's ass cheeks. Karen purred contentedly at the contact, snuggling into Becky even more. Becky sighed, because she loved watching the profs together. She'd never seen two people more desperately in love, or more perfect for one another. "So is it just you and Nanu in your little arrangement?" Karen asked, looking down at her student and gently poking her nose. "Well," Becky began before offering a weak smile. "It's complicated?" "Given what a hard time you had earlier, perhaps I shouldn't be surprised," mused the older woman, smiling kindly. "Are you hiding another girl from elsewhere in the world?" "No," Becky said, blushing. "I;” If she couldn't tell these two, who could she tell? "There might be an angle with one of my students," she confessed. "Rebecca Nightingale Fischer," Karen said, her smile becoming a smirk. "You and a student? You naughty girl. Not that Michael and I are in any place to judge, of course." "Don't I know it," Becky giggled. "Yeah, there is. Or there will be. I don't know how to explain it." "One of those moments again, clearly," Mike said, his other hand stroking down Nanu's back. She looked positively tiny on top of him, like a kitten gone to sleep. She was stirring and slowly coming back to life. "Don't try too hard, Rebecca." "Yes sir," she said rather reflexively, but she also enjoyed the little tingle she always got from obeying him. "Mark and I, and Nanu, will be a thing by the time summer rolls around." "M-ark?" Nanu mumbled tiredly, almost yawning. Had she fallen asleep? "What about M-ark, Mistress?" "She calls you Mistress, hmm?" Karen observed. "It looks like I'm not the only one with a kitten on my hands." Becky blushed. "She; insists she be allowed. I've tried to break the habit, no dice." She looked at Nanu now. "I was just explaining about waiting until the summer before we will be seeing Mark." "You get to see him all the time at school," Nanu pointed out. "But you say you can't fuck him. I hope they understand, because I sure don't." "Nonlocal measurement," Karen said, listening to the two younger women speak in Latin, although she was talking to her husband. "Low-entropy probability that falls outside the Born System." "And deterministic despite a Dirac constant and equation," Mike said before he chuckled and began sitting Nanu up straight. She shuddered and gasped deeply, seeming to have forgotten that she was speared on him. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at where her cunt was split wide apart by his massive erection. She didn't seem to be able to process anything like that fitting inside her. "Christ," Becky muttered, shaking her head. "I'm supposed to be a physics teacher, and I have no damn clue what you two are talking about." "Ultimately, determinism," Mike replied, letting Nanu try to adjust. "I remember teaching you the concept." "And I remember the lessons," Becky sighed. "Never thought they'd be applied to me personally. I keep forgetting you two are religious." "I think it's pretty much a given that you, my dear, are meant to study quantum crystallography," Karen cooed, stroking the blonde's cheek. "So of course, Michael and I will teach you everything we know, and will help you further on that path. You were, without question, our most gifted student. This is your chance." "What's everyone talking about, Mistress?" Nanu asked, shifting around her hips to make sure they weren't actually fractured. "You're talking in your stupid En-gush." "Nanu, we'll speak Latin so that you're not left out," the goddess said gently, reaching over and stroking the Egyptian girl's thigh. "We were asking Rebecca if she wanted to come and teach with us soon, instead of staying where she is." Nanu considered and then looked at Becky. "Mistress, I think you're very smart, but I'd think you were very stupid if you didn't take this offer. And take M-ark with you, maybe it'll make him less stupid." "I guess that settles it," Becky sighed, shaking her head. "I can't refute those points." "This Mark of yours sounds like a real charmer," Karen teased, finally sitting up and then clambering off Becky. She moved aside while her former student sat upright, rotating her neck and stretching her shoulders. "He must be a demon in the sack if you're willing to put up with his apparent lack of intelligence." "He's not stupid, he's just; he doesn't find applying his brain power all that agreeable, except to get himself out of trouble," Becky explained. "As for him being a demon in the sack, he's not bad, but; well, I'd been going through a dry spell when this all happened." "There is no excuse whatsoever for you to be going through a dry spell, young lady," Mike told her, sitting up and still keeping Nanu in his lap. But she squeaked when he turned her around, still nailed to him by his cock, which felt like it was battering her rib cage from below. Her eyes were wide as she just sat and listened. "You're every bit as attractive as you are intelligent, Rebecca, so if you're experiencing a dearth of sex, that's just you being difficult." "It's hard to find partners who measure up," Becky grumped. "Except for Nanu, of course." Nanu sniffed and nodded righteously, happy to be included in whatever the fuck they were all talking about. She was used to being ignored as a slave, she had no intention of being ignored now that she was a free woman. "You'll come to the housewarmings, yes?" Karen asked. "The third and the fourth weekends of this month." "You're having two housewarmings?" Becky asked. "Why two?" "One is the official housewarming, where I take over as head of the Blackwell elder line and its operations," Karen replied. "The one the following weekend is of a more fun and; well, risqué nature. The invite list for that is much more select. You and Nanu simply must come to both." Becky turned her head to look at Nanu. "Did you understand all that, my love?" Nanu thought about it. "Karen is becoming Mistress of this palace and there are two celebrations, one official, and one that is; naughty. She wants us to come to both." She leaned forward toward Becky now, her look an imploring one. "Can we please, Mistress?" "Of course we can!" Becky laughed gaily. "I wouldn't miss this for all the gold on earth!" More joyous laughter, and they all embraced one another, finding partners and beginning the lovemaking again. Another hour later, the Byron Lounge. "I'm really hoping you like this," Becky said as she poured the wine into her host's glasses. Mike and Karen were sitting on a large chesterfield together while Becky and Nanu were in a smaller loveseat across from them. The table the glasses were on was in the center. "You'll probably find it very unique." "It's potent, I can already tell," Karen remarked, watching her student pour. "The nose is quite powerful from here." "Interesting color for a white wine, too," Mike added, noting the distinct amber tint to the liquid. His wife was right, it was strong. It almost stung the olfactory senses and poured like a syrup. Even Madeira wines were lighter than this. The maderizing process must have been unusually acute. Becky handed each of her companions a glass and then sat down next to Nanu. The three women all looked at Mike, expecting him to lead the toast. He nodded and held up his glass. "Dignitas amicorum pie zeses vivas." Karen nodded and repeated the toast, but in English, the only time Nanu ever considered the language divine and lovely. "Worthy among your friends! Drink that you may live. May you live." The bouquet was sharp, certainly, and Mike guessed the alcohol content was well north of fifteen percent. The wine was clearly meant to be sweet, but the robust body was definitive. This wine must have been aged longer than Becky had been alive. Where had she gotten it from? He glanced over at his wife, who had an even more acute nose and sense of taste than he did, and she was examining her glass quietly. Karen was rolling it around inside her mouth quietly, letting it play over her refined palate. Her eyes caught his, and they knew what the other was thinking. Becky and Nanu watched quietly. It was always fascinating to Becky how these two operated. "That's an Aglianico grape, I'm sure of it, even though I have never had one quite like that," Karen mused. "It's been aged in clay," Mike agreed, nodding. "For a long time. The hangovers must be murder." They both looked at Becky, who smiled hopefully. She wanted them to like it, but also hoped they wouldn't ask more questions she couldn't answer. She was doing her best. "Rebecca, I'd like to have Jordan and Tatyana try this, may I call them in?" Mike asked. She nodded and he bipped his smartwatch, asking the former seneschal of Blackwell Manor and its current one to join them. They came in together some minutes later, while Mike and Karen were still discussing the wine. "You rang, my friend?" Jordan asked, while Tatyana nodded her head respectfully. Jordan saw the bottles on the table, noting the amber color. "Is that a Malvazia wine? Very strong, I can feel it tickling my nose from here." "With Rebecca's permission, we would like for you two to try this," Karen suggested, standing and walking over to a small cupboard from which she retrieved two more glasses. "It's quite unlike anything either Michael or I have tried, and I thought we had a very broad palate by this point." Karen poured two small glasses and brought them over to the pair. Jordan, who had been the Blackwell estate sommelier for decades, and Tatyana, its current sommelier, both examined the amber libation curiously. Jordan put the cup to his lips and sipped it. Tatyana did as well, the only reaction from her being her eyes narrowing slightly. "That is very unique, I must say," the older man said finally. "It reminds me a Sangiovese in some ways, but; more primal somehow?" "It is an Italian wine, I think," Tatyana added. "But unlike any I have tried before." "It's what I imagine a Falernian wine would be like, if the genuine article thing still existed," Karen posited. "But those methods are lost. We only know them from poetry and accounts of Roman historians, such as Galen and Pliny. This is; wondrous to try." Becky sighed slightly, relaxing. She was so worried about running into time lock that it was a relief she'd managed to let them actually taste the wine. The profs knew something was up, that she couldn't help them, and they would just have to figure out as much as they could on their own. Was she meant to have done this? Was it Fating? She banished the thought from her head, she would drive herself crazy. She was here to have fun with the two people who had made her who she was, and to share that joy with Nanu. To her delight, Nanu seemed to be acclimating well, even if she was in awe and fear of these 'gods'. Mike looked at Becky now. "This must have cost you a pretty penny, something this unique." Becky smiled. "I can manage more, if you want. As many bottles as you like. Just don't ask how or why." "Fair enough," Karen said, looking over at her husband. "And we just found our drink of choice for that toga party we discussed." Mike laughed and Becky giggled. Poor Nanu. She escapes slavery from Imperial Rome, only to end up in a time period where dressing like the patricians who enslaved her was the height of chic at a party. Rome was clearly the eternal city in more ways than one. And this one time, wining about it was a good thing. Later that afternoon. "Mistress, look at all these men," Nanu said quietly, as if the portraits and busts they were walking by could hear her. She could've sworn some of them were staring right at her, their eyes following her movements. "They are all rather frightening to me." Becky nodded as she walked hand-in-hand with Nanu down the Hall of Ancestors. "I remember the first time I saw them, my love, and they intimidated me as well. They are the ancestors of my professor, going back almost a thousand years." Nanu seemed rather surprised, and a little wary. "They're all gods?" Shit, how do I explain this without breaking her mind? Becky wondered rather wearily. "They all have the same hair like the god, maybe lighter, and the eyes," Nanu observed, still speaking quietly, so that the numerous men didn't hear her. "I can't tell if they're as big as he is." Okay, extra complication there as well. "No, my love, they are the ancestors of Karen," Becky explained, knowing this wasn't going to get easier. That revelation gave Nanu paused. She stopped and looked up at Becky now, almost frowning. "But they look like him, not her. They have the same straw hair and the eyes the color of the sea." She looked down at the ground now as she tried to parse out what her Mistress was telling her. "But her eyes are the color of his hair; maybe they are brother and sister?" Now Becky's eyes widened. "Well, if Iupiter and Iuno were brother and sister but also husband and wife, why can't these two be?" the Egyptian girl reasoned. "They gave birth to all the gods. But; where are these gods now?" She gestured broadly at the hallway and the gallery of busts and portraits. "Nanu, I; I don't know," Becky confessed, trying not to falter in explaining. "I've never met them, honestly. I met the father of Karen, that was it." She pointed to an imposing portrait of Jonathon Blackwell, Karen's father, which hung on the wall not far from them. "And where is that god now?" Nanu asked. Becky hadn't done herself any favors by mentioning she'd met other 'gods'. She tried distraction now, pointing at a large open space nearby on the wall. "Look, that is where the portrait of Karen will go, once she is officially head of her fa; of the pantheon." Well done, Fischer. Nanu looked at the empty space. "So the goddess will be the supreme ruler? What of the god? She seems to obey him, why will he not be up there?" This was getting harder and harder. Becky squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think of a remotely plausible answer. What a rotten moment for time lock to not interfere. "He is from a different family of gods, my love," she said finally, giving up. She didn't have the mental strength to overcome Nanu's fantasies. "A line of mighty ones, but that doesn't mean that she won't rule her own family. She may obey him, but she is their leader." It was true, just massively out of context. "So we are invited to the festival that sees her become ruler?" Nanu asked in wonder. "We are very important, aren't we?" It was finally a question Becky could answer honestly. She smiled and caressed the younger girl's cheek. "Yes, my love. We are very important to them. That's why they want us there." "What does the goddess' name means, Mistress?" queried Nanu. "Karen. It is so unusual to me." Another smile. Becky knew this tidbit, because she had laughed with her mentor about it so many times over the years they'd known one another. "Her names means 'Purity', my dear." Another wry face from Nanu. "But she fucks like Venus, Mistress. I'm not sure 'pure' is the best way to describe her." Becky restrained a giggle. "And the god? What does his name mean?" Becky happened to know that one as well, since the name was common enough. "His name means 'godlike', or 'like unto a god'." "Well at least that one makes sense," Nanu admitted. They continued walking, with Nanu gaping at just about everything. Mike and Karen were seeing to a small matter, and had suggested that Becky take Nanu for a stroll around the estate. Becky had to think about what might catch her attention, and what she'd even be able to understand. She'd already shown Nanu the service elevator, and the young woman was stunned how the tiny room could bring her to different places at the simple push of a button. Food always interested Nanu, but if they were staying for dinner, she could keep the little glutton out of the chef's way for a few hours. Glenda showed them the garage, with all the exotic and rare cars. Nanu seemed especially taken with the huge jeep and the bright red Countach. They found Ari in what was apparently an arcade (rich people, go figure!), and they watched while he played Street Fighter IV. Nanu looked on in fascination as Ari controlled the little man inside the box, making him beat up another little person. Before she got overstimulated and bloodthirsty (Becky was beginning to suspect that violence and sexual arousal were quite mated in Nanu's psyche), they went to find something else to look at. Soon, they found themselves in the compassion greenhouse. The rather pungent odor hit them the moment they opened the door. Nanu wrinkled her nose and pinched it shut with her fingers. "They grow asterion, Mistress?" she asked, her voice sounding funny before she was keeping her nose pinched shut. "I remember it from the house of my Flavian masters. We made ropes and rugs with it. They would bake the seeds into cakes. The cakes made me feel tired." Becky nodded. "It's a recreational substance in my time. They grow all sorts of things here, some of which will be very new to you." "I will get tired if we stay in here," Nanu said. "Just from the smell of the plants." Tempting, Becky thought, but ultimately decided against it. There was still lots to do, after all. They toured some of the other greenhouses before heading back into the Manor. In the foyer, they ran into two young women. Becky stepped up to greet them. "Hi, I'm Becky, this is Nanu," she said, shaking their hands. The rather buxom brunette seemed very pleasant, although Becky could already tell she was a bit of a space cadet. The other one, a shorter girl with honey-blonde hair in a pixie cut, was lean and athletic, her hazel eyes observing everything. "Hi, I'm Jeanie," the brunette said cheerfully before looking at Nanu. "Oh, wow, look how pretty you are! I'll bet you're a big hit with all the boys, aren't you?" She bent her knees slightly, resting her hands on them so she was closer to Nanu's eye level. "And what grade are you in?" Becky restrained a giggle-snort, declining to translate for Nanu. The Egyptian girl looked up at her, a rather confused expression on her face. "What's the stupid girl asking me?" she wondered. "She just said you're very pretty and all the boys must love you," Becky selectively answered. "Well, she's right about that, at least, so maybe she's not completely stupid," Nanu sniffed. "Sorry, Jeanie," Becky said, turning her attention back to her new associate. "Nanu doesn't speak English, we speak Latin to one another. So unless you speak it too, I'll have to translate for you." "Oh, yeah, no," Jeanie replied, shaking her head. "Fre'n' me barely speak English, so I guess you're on duty for us with the Latin stuff." "Hey now," the pixie-haired girl said, giving Jeanie a look before also stepping forward. She was wearing some chinos and a tank top, her jacket thrown over her shoulder. She shook Becky's hand. "Hello, I am Freja. We have been hearing about you both, I am honored." She smiled at Nanu now. "I am happy to meet you, Nanu." Becky translated, but Nanu didn't seem to hear what she was saying, since she was focused on Freja. The Danish girl was not much taller than her, but also had tiny tits, barely worth mentioning. She was smirking as Freja put out her hand, and instead of shaking it, she simply put her hands on her hips and pushed her chest forward slightly, thrusting out her tits. Freja faltered somewhat at the sight of them on display like that. "Anyhows," Freja said, turning her attention back to Becky, even if her wife was still staring at Nanu's chest. For a tiny girl, she had a huge rack. "Jeanette is my wife, we are pleased to be making your acquaintances. You ams staying for dinner?" Becky nodded, ignoring the fact that Nanu was turning slowly left and right, showing off her bust in profile. "The profs convinced me to come work as a Physics teacher at the uni. Do you two go there?" "Yes," Freja confirmed. "Jeanette is in Health and Nutrition Sciences, and I ams at the Skule." "Ooh, an engineer," Becky breathed, smiling. "Love it! You'll probs end up building a lot of the equipment I need in order to; Nanu, stop that, you brat!" She nudged the smaller woman with her hip since Nanu was cupping her tits and squishing them together. Either one of her tits was much bigger than both of Freja's, and clearly the girl was self-conscious about it. This was no doubt some leftover competition and survival trait in Nanu, finding advantage in whatever form it came. Given how she'd been mocked the other night at the bar, maybe she shouldn't be surprised. Still, she couldn't let her behave that way. "Jeanie, honey," she said, smiling at the other half of the married couple. "Would you mind taking Nanu and finding her a bathroom? I want to pick your wife's brain about something with engineering." "Oh, a hundred p," the brunette said, nodding and taking Nanu by the hand. "How'd you say 'Let's go pee' in Latin?" Becky couldn't believe she was saying this, but obliged. "Eamus mingere." "C'mon, Nanu," Jeanie said to the confused Egyptian girl, leading her off. "Eat a moose lingerie." "Even for her, that was nowhere near the close," Freja sighed as she walked along with Becky now. "I just wanted to get Nanu away from you, she gets competitive," Becky said. "Sorry about that. She was raised as a slave, so she has a survival mode about not being the smallest and weakest." "And my tits, they are smallest and weakest," the Danish girl muttered. "Oh, I think they suit you just fine," Becky said helpfully, taking Freja's hand and giving it a squeeze. "'sides, I kinda want to get a look at the rest of you without Nanu around, you look pretty muscular." Freja smiled. "I works out a lot, I guess. I played fodbold, your soccer, and also field hockey. I do some martial arts as well." "Ooh, tell me!" Becky said, pulling Freja into an unused lounge. "Tell me what you take and I'll tell you what I practice." Freja put down her coat and stood there, letting Becky see her body, although she still had her clothes on. Her shoulder muscles were obvious, but she lifted her tank top enough to show up her segmented and rock-hard abs. "I ams having a black belt in Grace Jujutsu, as well as Kenpo, and I also know Fujian White Crane. What do you practice?" "Krav Maga," Becky replied, lifting her own shirt enough to show off her smooth, firm midsection to her new friend. "Started quite a few years ago, mostly to blow off any sexual frustration, and to deal with guys who get too handsy, you know?" Freja smiled and nodded. "I believe you, for you are very well sexy-built. But we should spar, I would love to try myself against your Krav Maga." "I would love that too, Freja," Becky purred, her smile becoming sensual. "Win or lose, gonna love it. But haven't you tried sparring with the big man before?" "Once," Freja said, shaking her head. "He literally squashed me like a bug. I lasted three seconds and he just squashed me." Becky giggled. "He was the one who began teaching me Krav Maga, and every time I spar with him, I get squashed too. I think of them as sex injuries, you know?" Freja laughed. "Jeanette and I, we fuck the profs occasionally, so yes, I understand. We are lovers to them, and to their son and his wife, Karen's younger sister, Alexandra." "They were telling me about that whole arrangement, but I'm gonna need time to sort it out," Becky admitted. "It sounds like it was a helluva year." "I met my wife and married her because of Alex and Alexandra," Freja said, shucking her tank top now and just leaving her tits exposed. She didn't mind. "And what I can guarantee you, Rebecca, is that when you see Alex and Alexandra together, it will make you very happy." "Honey, I don't doubt that one bit," Becky said, pulling her own shirt off and then unhooking her bra. In a bathroom down the way. "See, this is pretty nice, right?" Jeanie said, sitting on the ornate but comfy chair, her chin on her hand while she looked at Nanu, who was simply sitting on the toilet with her pants around her ankles. She'd already managed to go pee, but apparently this stupid girl hadn't noticed and was still talking to her. "Li'l bit of girl bonding time, right?" "You really are dumb, aren't you?" Nanu said, trying to keep the snide tone out of her voice, in case the stupid girl tattled on her to Mistress. "I'm done going piss, now what?" "Oh, I've got an idea," Jeanie said rather eagerly. She pulled her shirt over her head, and then quickly undid her bra, letting her tits fall out. Nanu's eyes widened for a moment as she stared. They weren't the largest she'd ever seen, the goddess' were certainly bigger, and her Mistress' probably were too. But this dumb girl wore them well, and she clearly didn't mind showing them off at a moment's notice. "Now show me yours," Jeanie said, pointing at Nanu's shirt. The Egyptian girl shrugged and peeled off her shirt, and the stupid bra thing underneath, leaving her as exposed as her companion. Jeanie nodded approvingly as she assessed Nanu's tits. "Nice, we can have a lot of fun with those," Jeanie said, getting up and coming to kneel in front of Nanu now. She put her hands on Nanu's tits and fondled them, feeling around and giving them a good squeeze. "Yeah, these're primo, babe. Well done." Nanu didn't have a damn clue what the dunce was saying, but her tone indicated she liked Nanu's tits, and as a result, Nanu was getting groped. She didn't object at all. "Mind if I?" Jeanie asked, not waiting for an answer before leaning in and starting to swirl her tongue around one of her new friend's nipples. Nanu shivered and gasped, decidedly not objecting to this treatment. She hadn't been fucked in over an hour, so this was a good start. She reached forward and groped the brunette's big tits, liking how heavy they felt in her hand. She could feel herself getting wet, and wanted to do things with this girl now. "Hmm, new and better idea;” Jeanie said, pulling back and standing up long enough to go over to a closet and pulling out a large, plush towel. She remembered they were in there after her unfortunate encounter a few weeks earlier with the neighbor kid, who turned out to be necrotic, or narcosomic, or something. She laid the towel out on the marble floor, and then smiled at Nanu, patting the towel and indicating she should lie down. Nanu got off the toilet and laid down on her back as instructed, looking up at the dumb girl. Jeanie smiled and crawled partially over the smaller girl, her tits now hovering over Nanu's face, the nipples touching her nose. She eased down some more until Nanu could get one of the nipples in her mouth easily. Nanu began licking, tonguing and sucking readily. "Hmm, Jeanie for the win with the good ideas," the larger girl sighed, now craning down and beginning to suck and lick on Nanu's ample tits, the two of them losing themselves in the moment. Neither would feel the need to come up for air any time soon. Back in the other room. Becky grunted and strained, lying on her back and hands flexing against the floor. She was pushing with her hamstrings and her ass muscles, sweat streaming now from her nearly naked form. All she was wearing were her thong panties, and it still felt like she had too much on. Freja was lying opposite her, also just in her thong. They both had one leg in the air, locked against each near the ankle, and they were pushing hard, trying to overpower one another. It had been some time since Becky had engaged in a good bout of (the unfortunately named) Indian leg wrestling. Becky gasped and groaned, wondering if Freja was in as much discomfort as she was. She had the height advantage, a longer leg, so presumably more leverage, but Freja was very strong, her body a little bundle of muscle, which Becky had not appreciated until they'd decided on this little contest and they both stripped down. Whatever she lacked in the tits department, Freja made up for in the powerful ass department. Becky wouldn't be surprised if the little Danish girl could crack walnuts open between those cheeks. She heard Freja moan, taking heart that her opponent was working as hard as she was, although they remained in a deadlock at this point. If she couldn't overpower Freja, she'd simply have to hope to outlast her, until Freja's muscles were jelly and she gave up. They hadn't really decided on what the prize was for whoever won, but she held no doubt they'd both enjoy it. "Uh, fuck;” Freja rasped, her leg trembling every bit as much as Becky's. "You ams strong, like Alexandra or Andrea." "I'll take that; as a compliment;” Becky panted, her warm skin slick against the floor. She hoped she didn't stain the marble, she'd have a hard time explaining that to the profs. "You're really damn strong too, babe;” After almost two more minutes of straining and groaning, the strength of both women gave out at the exact same moment. Their legs bent and collapsed down, both of them breathing heavily, supremely tired from the contest. They slowly rolled onto their sides, almost going fetal as they tried to catch their breath. "That was; very difficult;” Freja managed to say. "I'm not gonna like walking on that leg for a week," Becky replied, thinking about the amount of grapefruit juice she was going to be drinking to deal with the lactic acid buildup in her leg and ass muscles. She hoped she wouldn't have to chase Nanu anywhere. "I guess it was a tie?" "Next time, we will make it a sexfight," Freja breathed, thinking she'd need a forklift to get her upright. "That will be easier on my body." "You have a deal, Fre;” Becky said wearily, hoping the profs didn't find her like this. Thankfully, the muscle pains subsided relatively quickly and easily, even if she knew she was going to be sore tomorrow. She found Nanu with Jeanie, and they both seemed much more refreshed and cheerful than her and Freja. She had a sneaking suspicion as to why. Nanu hadn't been in Freja's presence more than three seconds before she thrust her chest forward again, making sure the Danish girl knew who the mayor of Titty-Town was, even if she wasn't quite so blatant about it this time. They'd all gone to the kitchen so that Becky and Freja could rehydrate themselves a little. Freja was just drinking bicarbonate in water, whereas Theresa supplied Becky with her grapefruit juice. Nanu and Jeanie were drinking milk, and the two girls giggled at one another while they downed their glasses. Jeanie and Freja excused themselves, needing to get back to their condo. Jeanie hugged Nanu, making sure they squished their tits together, then did the same with Becky, although perhaps not quite as familiarly. Freja hugged Becky and then took a chance on hugging Nanu to say goodbye. Nanu accepted the hug, but made sure she pressed her tits right into Freja's reminding her who was in charge. Freja sighed, and they made their exit. "Miss Fischer, Mr. and Mrs. DeBourne will meet you in the Spencer Study now," Tatyana said, entering the room and nodding. "They apologize for the delay, things are just rather busy right now." "Well, what with finals coming, and the big ol' housewarmings, I'm not surprised," Becky said cheerfully, taking Nanu's hand and allowing Tatyana to take them to the aforementioned Spencer Study. Inside, Mike and Karen were sitting on a long, ornate chesterfield. Becky strolled in and sat down on a loveseat just across from them, joined by Nanu. Once again, the Egyptian girl seemed to be keeping her eyes averted. "I hope you don't mind, Rebecca, I thought we might continue having more of your delightful wine," Karen said, pouring some glasses. "I'm glad you like it, and especially glad that you aren't asking questions," Becky answered, relieved that her mentors seemed to genuinely understand her predicament, even if they couldn't understand her predicament. "I promise, I'll scare up some more for you." They were happily discussing Becky's future employment at the university, with Mike and Karen almost teasing her with tempting tidbits about all the latest research into quantum crystallography. Nanu listened quietly, understanding nothing, but knowing that whatever was being discussed was important. It was about making her Mistress happy, and nothing was more important to her than that. Well, getting fucked was as important, but clearly she could have both, so why quibble? Soon enough, they were joined by another person, whom Becky and Nanu turned to meet. A tall, young, and incredibly handsome blond man strolled in casually, wearing an infectious grin that Becky would recognize anywhere, even if she hadn't met him some years ago. He was so very obviously a DeBourne. Nanu's eyes went wide again, and she trembled in fear. "There you are, child-mine," Karen said as Alex walked into the study. "You remember Miss Fischer, yes?" "Of course," he said, smiling genially as he walked over to where the guest was sitting with another, smaller and exotic-looking girl. She stood up and he shook her hand, which was firm, friendly, and warm. A definite turn-on. "It's good to see you again, Ms. Fischer." "Oh, God, call me Becky, please," she said, trying to not blatantly ogle her professors' son. He was so much like Mike, only distilled into a more human-sized form, with enchanting electric blue eyes that radiated humor. But there was also a cool aloofness beneath, if he cared to let it be seen, and that was something he got from his regal mother. "You've grown up, Alex, and you were a lady-killer when you were just thirteen, I recall." "Well, everyone kept sayin' you were too old for me, so I had a wait a few years," he quipped, making her laugh. "Who's your friend, Becks?" Becky shook her head, since his new name for her reminded her of Mark. Still, it gave her a tingle when Alex said it, so she didn't exactly mind. He was more than free to keep calling her that. "Alex, this is Nanu. She's staying with me for the foreseeable future." Alex was going to shake Nanu's hand, but instead she slipped down to her knees, staring up at him in reverent awe before dropping her head to look at the floor. She began speaking quietly, her voice little more than a mumble. Alex raised an eyebrow before glancing over at his mother and father, who were still sitting on the large chesterfield. "Is she speaking Coptic? That's Coptic, isn't it? I don't speak that one yet." "Maybe if you were an elder of the church and showed a little more liturgical piety," Karen sniffed, holding her wine glass as she watched and assessed her son and his reactions. "Nanu is from very small-town Egypt, but she speaks Imperial Latin." Becky watched on, intrigued as he looked down at her again. "Please get up;” he instructed in the language of Imperial Rome. Nanu stood, but kept her eyes averted, even while he was addressing her. He smiled at her. "Nanu, I'm Alex. My full name is Alexander." She dared to look up at him again. He was a head, shoulders, and half a chest taller than her. She barely cleared his dad's abdomen. But she was certainly stacked for such a small girl. She had the build of a dancer, except with big tits. "The conqueror is named after you," she said in a hushed tone. "Alexander;” Alex looked back at his parents and Becky. "Does she think I'm a god? She's clearly not Muslim or Syriac Christian." "We haven't quite figured out what she makes of us," Mike replied, his deep voice from behind her making Nanu almost shiver and squeeze her eyes shut. This had been quite the day for her, and she'd met three gods now. How many people could say that? "Well, better you guys spend time thinkin' about it than me," Alex concluded, kneeling down so that he was eye-level with Nanu, taking her hands and smiling. She trembled at the touch. "Welcome to my home, Nanu;” he said cheerfully. She looked like she might faint. Her heart was thundering in her chest again, and she felt dizzy. "I hear you're due to get married, Alex," Becky mentioned, taking the pressure off Nanu before she just expired right there on the Persian rug. "Your aunt?" "Yep," Alex said, rising while gesturing for Becky and Nanu to sit again, which they did, Nanu somewhat unsteadily. Becky gave her some water while Alex eased himself onto the chesterfield next to Becky. Half a second later, Valentina brought in more drinks. Becky smirked at the steaming blue beverage waiting for Alex. Apparently it was some nerdy thing called a 'Romulan Ale'. "Mom's sister that I'm named after. "I take it you've heard the whole crazy story?" "Crazy stories seem to be the theme of this past year," Becky agreed. "Damned if I can get into mine, though. I am looking forward to meeting her as well, though. Your mom and dad have mentioned her over the years, the fact that she was missing from your lives. She and your grandmother were gone by the time I knew them." "Speaking of my baby sister, would you happen to know her whereabouts?" Karen asked, looking at her son. "She went with Aunt Jen to the pub while I was in class," he replied, nodding to Val in approval as he tried his drink. "Aunt Jen had a bunch a followers, so she took them all for a drink." "Meaning it'll somehow magically happen on my tab," Karen muttered while Mike patted her shoulder. "When was that?" "Alexa only had a half day, so they're probably almost home by now," he replied. "Aunt Jen really likes Theresa's coq au vin." He looked at Becky and Nanu now. "You two staying for dinner? Theresa makes killer food." "Well, your chef's bologna hasn't had any disastrous effects on Nanu's digestive tract, so I assume fresh poultry ought to be fine," Becky mused. "Nitrates and preservatives are the enemy, eh?" the young man laughed, once again reminding Becky of his father and giving her a tingle. They finished their drinks and Mike and Karen agreed to take them on a small tour. Becky was rather interested in the energy-saving measures, like the solar panels and the thermochromic windows. They were all touring the temperate produce greenhouse (called the 'Orangerie') some while later when two people joined them. "We're back, and we're not even hammered," the tall, gorgeous blonde chimed musically, the air of the room lightening with her presence. Even the resident butterflies of the Orangerie seemed to dance about when she was near them. She walked right up to Becky and hugged her. "You must be Becky! I've heard a lot about you." "I've heard a lot about you too, but I never would've believed anyone could be as stacked as your older sister," Becky replied, happily returning the squishy hug. "Let me introduce Nanu. Unless you speak Coptic, you'll need to speak Latin to her." "Hi, Nanu!" Alex almost sang as she knelt and hugged the shorter girl. Nanu's eyes looked like they might just spring out of her head before she swooned, not even having a chance to get on her knees and avert her eyes. "I'm Alexa!" "A; leks...a;” the Egyptian girl murmured as the tall, blonde goddess finally released her. She didn't go to her knees, she simply gazed at Alexa in quiet awe. This had been quite a day for her, even by her standards recently. "And I'm Jenny, lovey," the countess said, walking over and giving Becky a hug. "Chuffed to have you around. Have the lord and lady of the manor made their proposal to you yet?" "They have, and I've accepted, countess," Becky replied, enjoying yet another squishy, sexy hug. She had no doubt she'd end up fucking these two women eventually, if not Alex. She'd never had sex with a countess before, just a French noblewoman that she was reasonably certain was her own ancestor. "I could use the pay upgrade, certainly. Gotta pay for the classes to keep this bod toned somehow." "Delighted to hear it," Jenny said cheerfully, the two women still holding one another by the waist as they smiled at each other. Mike and Karen looked on, trying not to smirk. "And you're quite lovely, my dear. Certainly it won't hurt to' "Oh my gosh;” Alexa breathed, looking at the floor as an epiphany shivered through her. She looked up at Becky and Jenny. "We've gotta do that." "Do what, darling?" Jenny asked, looking at her but still holding Becky, their hips touching. "Well, look at us," Alexa said, coming over and inserting herself into the small hug, which was now a three-way. "Three tall, gorgeous blondes; we need to form a clique, or a union or something." "I've never belonged to a union," Jenny mused. "I've never not belonged to a union," Becky added. "Don't think I've been in a clique, though." "Yeah, but where's this ever happen?" Alexa said, pointing at each of them in turn. "Three natural blonde goddesses all together, none of us made of plastic or silicone; we're the world's most awesome and exclusive clique." "A Trinity," Alex added rather unhelpfully. "Yes!" Alexa said loudly, turning and pointing at Alex in excitement while Karen favored her son with a sour look for encouraging this. "The Trinity! That's it exactly!" She took Becky and Jenny by the hands and began pulling them out of the Orangerie, confusing the butterflies. "C'mon! We've gotta go take pics to celebrate our formation;” "Take care of Nanu for me," Becky called back, getting pulled along in Alexa's wake, as was the countess. The girl was frighteningly strong when she was exited; Becky would be amazed if even Andrea was stronger than Alexa. "Feed her or something', that'll keep her occupied." Nanu watched her Mistress disappear with the golden-haired goddess with the giant tits, along with the other woman. Seconds later, the three gods she was left with all turned to look down at her. She stared back at them awkwardly for a moment before opening her mouth and pointing at her gullet, then licking her lips and rubbing her belly. She looks like Nibbles the Mouse from those old Tom and Jerry cartoons when she does that," Alex observed. "Well, let's go see if Theresa can scare up some more bologna for her," the golden-eyed goddess named Karen mused, holding out her hand for the Nanu to take. "Ba-lo;” Nanu said eagerly as she followed Karen out of the Orangerie. "Ba-lo;” Soon enough she'd be eating again, and hopefully someone would fuck her. She hadn't anticipated anything like this happening to her, and she owed it all to her Mistress and the god-machine. It was a good day to be Nanu Tehemet. A study on the third floor. "Okay, so," Alexa began, herding the two women into the room and then closing the door for privacy. "This is gonna be awesome, the world's most elite clique." "It would be nice to belong to something Kat cannot dominate," Jenny mused, nodding. "What does our clique do?" "Just exist to show off how wonderful it is to be a blonde goddess," Alexa reasoned, rubbing her hands together and then assessing them both for a moment. "I mean, we're gotta spread the truth, right?" "Good enough for me," Becky declared readily, watching Alexa go over to a closet and pull out an expensive-looking camera and tripod. "Lotsa pics in various states of dress and undress?" &l

Don't you see, sensei I'm just as disappointed in myself And ready to die Just as I relay the message, Spray me with your morbid essence Don't, croak, you fool, You've only a spoon ful of sugar left to go The dose is coming up your throat, — you didn't know to throw up Grab the rope and go up Before gravity has crushed your —thought: Stupid boy, you don't want to die— Nor to do, but oh, do we have it coming Silly mortal, overlords and governed, Short of morals, steady coming at your doorstep So goes our concert! And so goes our concept for divorce, And sure of course, Your four corse meal, and/or dessert This is just devastating, genetics made me The sort at sorting words, but surfing, Sure. Ever temporarily the cadence changes, Still they say “you've been betrayed” But never had a friend I made made As good as death and God have been to me For everything you're meant to be, Plus everything you're meant to me, I go, unwanted, troubled and disgusted at my own immortal outcome. Sure. My back hurts and I'm wounded, Heartbroke, Thrust in every cardinal direction Also, honored at the mark of magic wand Upon her shoulder; And so, Just as soon as the sun and moon, Does the fire escape set a perfect path For outward destruction of the bricks and mortar Or your alter (This we talk about, to some effect Is your repression and affective form of supernatural perfection) But forget the makeup; I can make you up to be a star And not of wars and other worlds, But those that come before us, Carson, and the others Paar before that. But, I think not dear sir How wrong you are, A wretched bird, Set not to fly, but O father Wit and relay messages, The passage said, and set to clocks, The past was won and so the future altered, But dear feathered father, Mortal you are not But just another triumph Of my god; And set the mirror to the magnets Camera, lights and action, Magic— All the signs of the dawn, and the mad don Red Dawn came upon us, called the Red Man Tom, from other, over, under Still was my mistake to mumble such Or put upon the tongue As such assumption Still— wonder? Bird, shut up; Love I dusk And lust I soak In all the frittered dust and feathers, Colors, coming up as mister Chuck and wood, and wait and ponder Slithered this to wonder, not a rock, But potted fern, Asunder Thunderstorm And wicked rain And fair the back A tide had come And sitting there upon the shore, Was us, and 12 apostles She's a Brick— Seemingly out of nowhere, A RED BRICK HOUSE falls very perfectly from the SKY and into OZ. oh good, my house is here. House. [the festival project ™] But I don't want to make house! Then play it! I don't want to play house it is BORING. You play it— they want it. But I don't want it. Then forget it! What! Listen kid, a job's a job! {Enter The Multiverse} Wrong, this is wrong— everything is wrong. What's wrong, Rob? I'll be back. ROB LOWE has just played TRUTH OR DARE L E G E N D S if I could get inside your head For just a second Bread and butter Heaven, hell, And other places I have wandered But oh, wonder This is never what I wanted, Was it? No sir. Sure, I set you off, No sooner had you got a gun and shot me. Handsome fucker. I'll bet. Wrong act. Wrong award show. Wrong hat and a baseball bat, Peanut butter and a nice cold cheesecake, Don't forget to order cheesesteak For your cat. A carnivore at odds with the other worlds, And also fused to us; This drifting back and forth Between the Rock And Hollywood Has got to stop. ((The world is toxic.)) the legend of… L. JONES It's you! BLŪ AH, crap. L. JONES Listen, I got something for you. BLŪ Where did your bird go? L.JONES What bird? CUT TO: Now open that. No wait! It's a trap! THE VAULT inside THE CRYPT at 30 ROCK has been opened. I keep looking down at my phone As if I'm expecting a phone call Or incoming message from God But the worlds to a song Are all jumbled up in my Concious I don't want to talk about it I feel Nauseous Everyone is being obnoxious Even my own blood I don't want to function I just want some French toast crunch For lunch Nostalgia I got a whole inch taller on the peloton Holla Now I got a body, Broader, So close to Broadway But I never go there That's a tall order Of “gotta have money” I mean live theatre It's fine I'll eat here And repeat these things till they just rhyme Line them all up like a context, Story Someday I'm gonna cut my own check Watch me lol none of this rhymes without a hard Brooklyn accent ; Guess you can't hack it! Send you ass packin! I said “That's whack son!” Then I went back blonde Now they want Backend, Contract, Off the top, Royalties Residuals I'm an individual with insidious syntax And yet I'm ridiculed Truly I'm a tit-for-tat Or particle of all you are Circular centrifuge, I trickle down your tentacles (Eugh) Choke the chicken just to give the cat a chicken bowl, Chick fil et and pret a tair just to get a ritual Espresso and a quick snack So I can get my dick wrapped In chocolate and licorice because the shit is edible Damn that I guess they set a damn trap By putting out the welcome mat, Then strapping Like a mothafuckin' straight jacket Matter fact, I look a nap in it, Then magic tricked the slip effective Compliments of Michael Jackson Or was it tech nine? Maybe I should get my Mind right I lost it once I guess I've better find it If I am, in fact, A diamond in the rough It's probably blooded it up enough That you should dig it up and shine it; Better yet, Somebody outta pick it up And sign it, Cause I write enough To put a vision To a blind man It's Fran Fine, man I'm behind, man The shadowgov had put me on a diet My bad I noticed that they tried to shut me up But couldn't stop the words or other stuff That just keeps coming out of my head I put coconuts as butter onto my bread And thinking thoughts of Carl cox As I drift off in my bed, I said, “It shouldn't be a problem, officer” As I reached for the gun And he aimed it at my death. That's an impossible apocalyptic suicide— Did you invite the devil in? I said “Nah, but that guy did.” The problem is, I pointed over yonder to a ghost Who also knows that I'm a well respected psychic; Nevermind a sidekick, side bitch in a sidecar, Psych ward, Sike! We spike war on your kind! So far, If I make history tonight, The other side decides their psalm is just as likely The third reike. Okay, strike one: I'm gonna turn your lights off. Strike two : you do and say what I do: Strike three: we're gonna make you suicidal I specialize in denying rights for high profits But big brother, or boss— What if my glove fits? The instance it does, We lock you up with no service, Your world becomes dark And your words become worthless Oh shit. This is not a good rap song. Like, at all. I must say, I do agree, You lose your trust, but silently Denied is all your trouble, Till it just begins to bubble up Until the cookie crumbles— See that feeling in your stomach? This is bigger than the money, girl — They want your soul, and then the world! I told you never call him. I didn't! Then explain this: [Skrillex] *sharp inward sigh* CUT IMMIDIATLEH TO STAN You know what! That's it! I don't care how handsome or rich and famous he is! This has to stop! KYLE Hey, wait just a minute— STAN SHUT UP KYLE. KYLE You shut up! STAN You're starting to sound just like him! KYLE Take that back! STAN I won't take it back! You all might have forgotten who you are, but I haven't!after of fact, I bet to Cartman, you're still that stupid little Jew kid! KYLE That's IT. KYLE takes out his phone. what are you doing? …I'm tweeting about this. I thought it was X now… It is, but you can't ‘x' anything, it's still calledl tweeting. I guess youre right. —and I'm tagging Cartman ! STAN Are you serious? Oh shit, this is social suicide. …did I ever explain this storyline? …I don't know, did i? I'd gotten so focused on this impending doom looming over me with this whole lawsuit that I'd forgotten entire worlds and whole documents. Even more terrifying, was the sudden quiet and the onset guilt that came over me for getting distracted. But I couldn't remove myself from it entirely—- it seemed to have ruined everything. It wasn't just motorcycle noises, it was like a nervousness and angst twisting in my stomach for months and months, until finally, as the court dates started approaching, it was peaceful, or rather, normal, all of a sudden. It couldn't be peaceful because now that the extreme noise was gone, I knew it had been planted all long— but what was the purpose? I'd lost two years not knowing, and though there were albums, they were never what I wanted. Now I was sorting through the documents of the show like it was the rubble of a decimated building— completely demolished, and I hadn't the slightest clue the contexts or the storylines anymore. It was pain and suffering, but not in the legal context. It was a creative disaster— I hadn't any idea in the slightest where I'd left my audience before I was forced to abandon them. But I was forced to choose, at times, between soap and toilet paper, or eventually, food, and water— or a phone. Eventually, this too became a pattern of the impossible— trying my hardest to do what I thought had been my purpose, but for far, being so endlessly sabotaged, even ridiculed and humiliated, and still, I couldn't understand why. I was tired— and somehow, even though I'd wanted to be left alone, I was the target. Worse was that I assumed it to be bigger than I thought and completely out of control— I thought immediately back to how my best friend from middle school had been attacked, and how she was made to think that it was me…to the point that she'd become obsessive about it to call my mom over it. And as far as the court was concerned, to the wrong ears or wrong eyes, anything I'd published in the festival project could look troublesome, like the ramblings of a mad mad, or schizo, or uncontrolled obsessive thoughts— because the biggest secrets of all, the things that tied together these fictional worlds and plots, were my own real life experience. The inability in a court of law to detail the podcast, which had started as meltdown some would call grandiose over an almost long forgotten rockstar and a porn model — and the entries into the festival project that followed, which included high concepts, off-kilter comedy, politics, and even fringed on social justice. Nothing I ever would have wanted and especially over money, but the lawsuit wasn't about money at all. In fact, at any moment I would have chosen to die and have it all stop if it weren't for my very young son being left alone. Though recently the dread had overcome with a sense of unbearable loss and agony, encrypted with suicidal thoughts and wants, reeling for human touch, the overbearing factor seemed to be that if I killed myself, I was giving someone what they wanted. I was really much too tired to go on, but leaving behind the world in entirety, in my very own way of beliefs wasn't just “shitutting it off”, it was starting it over. Understandably and undeniably immortal in its nature, the instances of God I had left spoke with a reminiscence of being born again, and having to remember which is it I'd wanted to start off. It was an unachievable overload of chaos and disruption, a level of corruption that spoke to something so dark and sinister it seemed biblical — then, again, I tried to wrap my mind around a way to rebuild a positive world from hope and thought, or manifest reality, but this is the very experience I'd felt was intended all along. The motorcycles weren't merely meant to destroy my career, or my will power, or force— they were, but also they were made to play upon my most valuable asset, the power of thought, to make it impossible to become something other than what was wanted; to use my own mind against itself and destroy my way of thought by using vibrations that could not be shut out, or stopped— they followed me to the sound collective, to Shakespeare in the park, the bank, the doctors office— it was as if they knew and understood my very thoughts, my process. It was of nothing at all to corrupt every single body and brain who would surround me or come close— by using the power that seemed supernatural enough, but indeed were powered by money, and technology. Perhaps, in this essence, I thought, was the purest display of defective intention itself; the mere thought that this indeed was rather Good Vs. Evil or God and The Devil would easily be written off as a diseased way of thought. The social world and constructs had been built around being open minded to a system of psychology that was intrinsically rather corrupt. I knew this could only be fought with what I knew, and what I could draw from as logic. I didn't want to go to court because I knew the people I would be fighting were liars, and well trained psychological masters of manipulation, well hidden terrorists dressed as public servants and systematic corrupters all for simple profit margins, to whom I was not so much a person or a mother, or a daughter, but a number. Because I was poor, and had once or four times chosen to love the wrong person in an unorthodox and uncontrollable form of torture, dismissing each and every social construct or physiology that was by the book, by embracing that there was a reason for change I quickly became quite the antagonist of sorts and hopefully not some sort of martyr —for the kind of people that had money and property, and perhaps even socially constructed circles to camoflage their own self doubt and hatred, but absolutely also had no morals. –Death of a Superstar DJ If I lose my mind At least I know I'm right on time This time— I meant that, I had it bad this time MCBADBAT I had it bad this time, And the last. Perchance for you, Hour or folded, Hair my weight And glassed upon thy, This upon now, Feathered waking, And there barely weathered Shaking. Dear, dear, Tis is fair truth, To fare that I have gasp And fated at thy doorstep; And yet, care to force, Her breaking waves and saving tinder, Fit there slithered in as yet astonished, Then another; And I hated. So, then, slower now. All there, gathered none. And show to show thy force What then became and withered after, None to bark or beg But birds and feathered creatures, pander The tides did Quake, And the heart did grow ten fold and steady saying None upon us but one left to shiver in the depths That yet remain as undiscovered For now never there was another world, Undone, And also another becomes, My death— And therefore all the worlds I kept, To travel on and travel As becomes one, does another onward As the first is glass to dust, And last is born there. So, Then, I, Crept, In my dress, Kept for clothes that church did water I, met, My mark and there the doors of shadows open Wilted and wake? Hear you; A star was born In other cosmos tied with our own nurture So, Kept, The weight of clasp and bone That holds the crept and precious alter Goddamn cat! Where are you. AAtticus Caaticus Oop. Gotta go. Toonces! Tooooonces! Where are you? Omg remember that one where that couple has a magic toddler and they just let him like,float away. Yeah, barely. Yeah. So I do. CUT TO: TOONCES focuses intently on the task at hand; he's sure he can manage to drive the human vehicle to his own home— to where he's assured he will find the actual body in which he belongs. Now… let's see, if I can just Wait, I who? ATTICUS CATTICUS, An ancient alien sorcerer must relay a series of important messages. Unfortunately. YO WHAT THE FUCK. None of them seem to be getting through. CUT BACK TO: TOONCEEESSSS. here kitty kitty kitty!! {Enter the Multiverse} I would dedicate, but honestly I've not time to waste And I'm craving wedding cake I hate to destroy you But for now, you know I can't employ you; This implies my eyes are also murder And I'm sure of her departure From another world, Perhaps across the border. Also, quite the dark sorcerer himself LORNE MICHAELS has well hidden himself under the guise of having become one of the most successful television producer of all times— And even in his own very small world, Nobody quite seems to know why. JIMMY FALLON Lorne, I have to tell you something. LORNE MICHAELS This had better be good, Jimmy, I've just made popcorn. [the festival project ™] Don't worry, for now, The risk remains hidden, As sure as an asset is an advantage, I can't have the classes counting Heads of cabbage as accomplishes, The masses are honestly astonished And impossible, but what was wrong with Boredom in the first place? Nonsense More words And still no dollars Hunger strike, And burning harder, California deficit, lack of bread, Heaven sent interventions and scissors, Mistresses, disasters and divorces But who says the whole story has to suffer? You're a surfer under water, Remember that when you finally catch your breath above the surface Can you clear her? He who? Back to work! Or back to the future! My super brain is dead but I think I'm next I think heaven swallows whole the blooded laugher From the constructs I've come from. Remember that. Remember not to fall from too far up, God would give you wings With time to spare Before you ever wondered where Your mark was On the plaza Don't let me up to the very top. I will at the very least Best scenario jump off And rid the world myself, Just for a dozen donuts over Crossing hearts and Hollywood And Griffith park To also soft my foot Upon red carpets. You ever shave your armpits!? …no. Hm. Catholic. Of course. Get in. Destination. —Rotterdam. You idiot. I made it. Whatever, get in the boat. DI NERO Give her your shirt. What. Your shirt. Why my shirt. Just— Fine. Here. [he hands over his shirt— in an instant, the woman becomes an exact REPLICA.] …my shirt. Relax. Nothing's gonna happen to it. Okay? —in fact, you're still wearing it. Alright! She's right, Jimmy, relax. I can't, that's— It's simple. There is nothing simple about this whatsoever. You're right. It's not, so get over it. [The Festival Project ™] BILL MURRAY There's a compartment at the end of the left corridor— Alright. In that hatch, there's a chamber. Okay, what'll I do? You'll open it? How? I'll tell you how, just get there. Suddenly, a barrier falls; it appears as though there are booby traps set here. Uh— that might be a problem. There might be a few of them. What just happened? Booby traps. —ah, I know what you're talking. Those aren't booby traps— they're Bobby Traps. What in the Hell are you talking about? For whatever reason Jimmy Kimmel Is important Now I'm scared of him, I know he knows the devil Come to think of it, Might even be an advocate Have an avocado But don't know the half of it These are, as it stands Comes what may Special circumstances I could circumvent an intervention, Never second chances I've been setting rat traps, Trapeze artists, Bampheramph camp, And also trampolines over the plaza That seems dangerous. Yeah. AHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Damn. Know it's plausible, That I also am an alcoholic, Though dysfunctional, Professional, And underrepresented So I stand myself, Let's just say pro-se if you will I could add Prozac to my snacks But I'll be delayed, if you still Don't get my messages I'm sick of having heart attacks; A hard advantage I was looking back on “fully packaged” A six pack of abs And nothing left to eat but cabbage, Haven't had a mouth, But I've been counting on my ass To get me back up north, I'm coming from the South Out West, there's a word for that At best, you're a four and a half My body double stunts and stumbles Struts at nothing Struck before the one, And so between high noon and Somewhere around 30 in I'm never turning 30, 30 Rock is in the wind— So count that up, That's what my income is. That's what they said? “Too late, you've been betrayed” If that's how it is, Then I request “beheaded” You know your mother says That ugly face just becomes permanent If you keep making it, And so I did, The second that it ended I'm Trying so hard Just to be What they want That it hurts Just to stop And relax For a moment INT. THE LAIR. NIGHT What is this? Where am I? You're— Alive. Why? …I changed my mind. You're not ugly You're just not mine I changed my mind I changed my life around. I skip line after line, But the message ain't right, I have time a chance No challenge accepted No exceptions or Expectations Expand this racism vocabulary Set the rat traps back To February Stamp the weather's getting Better with the postage clearing Abstr– My cat is so cute I can't stand him; But he's pretty bad, That my only friend; Animal. I blacklisted deadmau5, And my whole set sucked. Presently, however I'm a peasant Plucking pheasant feathers Guess I– pppftt. Like it never even happened But I'm sure we're all to war, Like a fear I never grasp it, What's l before, uncertain of your l words— My dear, were tattered and the masters heavy handed, Oh, my dear, we're marching on a battered Wit, to all your fan mail I tel you, I was I tortured, Let me show you And also, No one forced my hand at magic, Questioned prestidigitation, Or went back to every second, Land you think you owned as time In fact, my crucial very hard earned gossip column Asks the reader to reform his or her thought Before a judgement can be made How fascinating. The bag says ‘poems' so I wrote one, But I'm sure since my marker's toggled on I'm being stalked, It's like a magnet, Punch the clock And here they pour into the coffin So I won't be pouring coffee for the puffin; Maybe someday I'll look back at this as all I ever wanted, But for now it's just a horror show, Where I belong the murder— Yet a thriller, Best, The audience is captivated, Yes This is evasive, Cause I can't been captured yet By either masses or Mass murderers. At last, a cadence comes clean of its Breaking waves and rhythms, Tides and ties, Becomes another— Then, I'm whisked away Not back to slumber, but of subtle thoughts Of Californian water Lapping up across our surfboards; I often wear them tides, The undertow As pull of greater waves I sit aside as all that passes [The Festival Project ™] When I see Calvin Klein, I think of you; Not what you used to be But turned in to So it's mutual— Pay attention, fool As does moss grow on a rock And this to you— It is unfortunate, my dear You miss with every twist, Adjustment of attention span, The glances I foreshadowed (Here you are, inside your past) It's just affective of the effect, You've been levitating, Yes, I find it devastating Every second kept is just a fortune But you pause before you post— You reap before you even think Of what you sow, You don't belong, Agast, (True) Set the tone, Classless, But I'm Art, you are a Daunting folk song, Mistletoe and marker. CAMERA ASSISTANT Marker. …what is this for again? CAMERA ASSISTANT (Annoyed, mumbling) Shut up. Ten minutes passes and still, I'm awake But the tragedy of the mistake has just set in, I'm sure I've been tortured, I'm paid in mistakes, but I'd rather be shattered with Mortimer's curse. To the tune of Ten by ten by ten I will never be lover, nor friend in the end. {Enter The Multiverse] DRAKE concentrates heavily on a very long , seemingly very angry message— a frowning face plastered as he writes that is so noteworthy, it catches the attention of many a passerby— still this focus unwatered, as he bashes heavily away at the text message with the thumbs of fury for over 30 minutes while sitting at a booth in a well-loved pancake restaurant. As a tall stack of pancakes is served before him, and he, still unbreaking this angry texting streak or eye contact with his phone sits before them, history is made in what internet culture has now deemed as “the most meme worthy face in history” The world wonders what he could possibly be writing— and more importantly—-who he could be texting. Tears come to his eyes but do not fall as he raises his thumb with reserve, to finally press [RETURN.] CUT TO: SUNNI BLU receives a text amidst a wild party. Almost without so much as a reaction, SUNNI BLU pings the message to a projector and cuts off the lights, and music. A VERY LONG, ANGRY TEXT is projected on the wall. I slept from 10-2 There was nothing else to do My name is Devin DeLouise And I am not supposed to know these things Seven are dead and three are left I know what's next I'm also often known as And referred to as coyote ugly; Suffering a tantra wall, Yo, you son of a bitch! You dirty, dirty son of a bitch. I must admit, I had a lot to do with this… I had no part in it! Relax… soon enough, the both of your realize— this is how the unimaginable gets written. [he loads the polished sterling silver pistol and glamours over it] You have our memory. —all memory. And as soon as it ends, before it can begin again. The slate is wiped clean. Good riddance. “A Different Kind of Monologue” Is this what you wanted? Ooh— you should try me! I wish you would try me! Try me! I wish you would. Be calm, Grand Master. This will all be over momentarily. What's going on. Deprivation chamber. Crypt? —Encrypted? A lockup. Ah. Thought so. That ought to show us what he's really made up. We can all hope. [he pounds on the glass, the one way mirror acts as a camera which the maj aresses, rabid and wi the anger of a dangerous animal, both we, n audience, and the small group of men gathered a the other side of the room. This could be the basis of a lot of lawsuits. So now I have your tears and agony A wilted throne and wand Which which would grant a wish of comedy, And therefore ever after, Not pain and guilt, but laughter So heavy is the hat that acts as crown, And so foolish is the King to think ‘imself as not one, Creaks the crow and also of the feathered guilt that follows, I Kept and bashful, wishing not the show as throne but sorrow, Kept to wick and wake and bones to shatter from tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Do you fear us? …do you wish to be feared? What of us? I seek to cause the wish that stands as though you may as granted. So shallow, fair child. And brother and my son also. Gross! Stop. You are weird! Dude, you are fucked. In the withdraw, my shadows and darkness Are there always, never resting Stories and gathered images, Visions of betrayal and archaic wants. In time, I've abandoned them all and betraying that which I've lost, For I know, and not ponder on That I shall never know love, As all standing tal over me Have eyes; And all I want Knows not what hides under my ugly. Alright. I followed your spiral, downward, and down wind and down wood, Into a place where I also aspired to show your mark Upon my rotted corpse or coarse crossifix; Sure worded and down trodden. Now, worse, I'm also sworn To mourn all my own losses, Kind folk. Kind hearted and now my eyes also sudden to wander— And there goes my miles and triumphs And morals and war songs, And sure, swallowed the barrel of a gun But also departed with honor, I tell I. Glimpses of wither and winter and whittling pain, And I slither my back to the center of All I am, in this, and shadows, Fairtails, And grains of rice and sand to twist away Into the rain as I lay dying. What a fortunate! Don't make my mark up and out, few for short times, Aye, conspire to warthog, Remember so force your spirit onto ours, And shake, sandbox! There aiming at you were the snakes of six liars, And the stakes of empires lost and won over, Also one solemn subtle Star of David Worn upon the neck of six monks, Ragtime Six popes, pass I; Six fathers and streaks solemn and Care tan teared salamander, Having weight and wake to cheer For our slaughter. Then, you, Having gained and also lost should reap to sow, What you'd have wanted; Though the tongue so convexed having way to guild your complex, Shaking as I hunger fruit that not but hangs Before l wanted I know, I could knot be consoled I know, I could not be consoled I know I could not be consolidated either Bought, or purchased I know I'm not consoled at all, I know I'm not confirmed at all I know, I know I'm not confronted, nor immortal — but your glorified affliction. Poor infinity. Of poverty, perhaps, but never poor at all. For your were warned of all the doors as opened at your calling. Not to walk though, But to ponder at them, wondering. he's gone Maybe I should go Too Heavy weight hanging on my Shoulders I'm just star struck I don't know You I don't really like saying What I go through Talk an hour, Fake it All day show Monologue Improvisation Now i'm on a roll, But my thoughts got darker I like adderall and a real smooth talker I like a husband-father , Doctor, Actor, Tall and handsome, Doesn't matter I'm alone, so i feel hopeless Aggie's gone, So i might as well go though Oh– She's gone ((I think i'm past my time)) I think i should go to She's gone (so long) Right on, man I might as well go to It's been a long time, Gotta turn my light off, Overtime, That's a long ball game Season's over; On my back in the middle of the ball court She's gone, So i might as well go too. 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 LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space.

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The Time Riders: Part 14 Visiting old friends, and Nanu discovers hot sauce. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. A certain bedroom. If she'd been worried about feeling alone, she wasn't noticing at the moment. There were so many fascinating things around here, all requiring her examination. There was an entire world to explore, after all, and it was apparently much bigger than the one she'd left behind. It was hard to conceive of, really; a world larger than Rome, than the empire, but according to her Mistress, Re-be-kah, she was not going to run out of things to be stunned by. So far, Mistress had been right. Nanu was kneeling on the bed, minutely examining the fabric that made up the soft sheets they'd been sleeping on. She tugged at the material, noticing how it was so tough that she needn't worry about tearing it. She tugged and tugged, giggling with delight when she couldn't wreck it. How clever the people of tomorrow were! She clambered off the bed and walked over to the window. She had only briefly put on any clothes, and that was to see her Mistress to the door as she left for work. Becky had made sure Nanu understood how the front door lock worked before she left. Nanu was only wearing the burning cock-sack garment, the one with the symbol of the musical group Let Zeppli on it, but the second Mistress was gone, she'd shucked it off and scampered around naked, laughing in delight. She'd been so tempted to stand in the window wearing no clothes and shake her nude body at the world, because she promised Mistress she would stay out of trouble, because she didn't want the vigiles coming for her since she'd only just gotten here. Mistress' 'free country' wasn't as free as it sounded, at least in her opinion. The tiny Egyptian girl walked up to the window of the bedroom and leaned on the frame, sighing dreamily as she rested her chin on her arms and gazed out at the world beyond the glass. Trees were starting to be green, and the grass of Mistress' lawn was visible, along with plants that would apparently become lovely flowers. High up in the blue sky, a strange bird flew. It barely moved, just gliding along, and seemed to have an almost cruciform shape. It left a weird trail of white cloud behind. What strange animals there were in the world of tomorrow. She left the window and went into the bathroom, plunking herself down on the commode and peeing, giggling at the sound produced by the material the bowl was made from. Once she was done, she headed downstairs, feeling a mite peckish. She went up to the fridge and opened the door, fascinated by the chill she felt as she leaned in to see what was available. Re-be-kah had left food for her to eat, all prepared and with her name on it, so that she knew what was safe. Seeing as how the ba-lo had made her almost shit herself to death the day before. The parfait was sitting in a bowl, with yummy-looking red and black berries swirled into it, along with a cereal that Mistress had called 'granola'. She took that and then retrieved a few slices of homemade bread from a little wooden container on the counter. Mistress had left some utensils and butter on the table, and even the peanut butter! Nanu loved the peanut butter; she couldn't wait to have it licked off her cunt! Sated some minutes later, Nanu wandered around, examining little things about the house that she hadn't noticed yet. She was careful to not mess with any switches, because she didn't know what all of them did. Apparently they weren't all just for the lights. She jumped up and down on the sturdy long chair, which was apparently called a 'chesterfield', rolled around on the comfy rug, and diddled herself in front of a mirror, cumming loudly and shamelessly. She loved looking at herself while she masturbated, she was so beautiful! Nanu flopped back on the rug, breathing heavily after a lovely climax. Her whole body tingled, and wonderful images of herself and her Mistress fucking floated through her mind. The house was warm, in a way she'd never felt before. Living in the slave quarters, and wearing what amounted to little more than a poorly made sack for clothing, she had often been cold, and rarely warm enough to suit her. This was; wonderful. This new world confused and frightened her, but she also knew she would acclimate, and then she would be warm, well-fed, and she could fuck to her heart's content. She was going to love her new life, she was sure. She hoped Re-be-kah was having as wonderful a day as she was. The Education of Nanu, as 'The Gods Will It'. Mooredale Secondary. Becky sat behind her desk, trying to conceal the way her eyes were spiraling with exasperation and boredom. While not every student in her Physics class was a dunce, only a few of them truly cared and paid attention. Most were just doing what was required to pass. Even if they got great grades, they weren't interested in retaining the material. And then there was one young dunce in particular. She tried not to scowl at Mark, who was zoning out at his desk, looking out the window. She could see even from here that his notes were inadequate. He couldn't claim to be memorizing the material; he had the memory of a goldfish crossed with a sieve. How had he made it into this prestigious high school to begin with? She was ultimately happy he had, of course, since that meant three months from now (from his point of view), he would be taking her on adventures with the Holmes Field Device. But this twerp sitting in front of her wasn't that time traveler yet, was he? He was just some lazy kid who was going to fail her course. Then he'd come back in time to fuck her, and convince her to not fail him. She'd agree, as long as he showed her the time machine and took her on adventures. Looking at him now, she couldn't believe she'd made the agreement. But she had, and now she was stuck passing him. She couldn't get out of it if she tried. She'd solidified her personal future. Fating, as people in the time travel community called it. Once you knew for certain that something factually was going to happen to you down the road, there was nothing you could do to change it, no matter how hard you tried. You might even hurt yourself doing it. Time lock. It was a thing. So if you enjoyed feeling like you were in control of your destiny, then you did your best not to find out what was to happen to you in the future. Loose talk stops clocks, and all that. She looked at Mark again, still trying not to frown. It was so strange to think that this boy, who was weeks away from being eighteen, was the same knucklehead who would be her time-travelling companion. She'd be having sex with him, and they'd be sharing girls in the time stream, including Nanu, who was waiting for her back at home. The Mark in front of her was seventeen, almost eighteen. Time travel made the rules seem so arbitrary, and even dumb sometimes. She couldn't have sex with him right now. She couldn't sext him under her desk right now. It was illegal. Yet somehow, magically, in a few weeks, on a particular day, Mark's upcoming birthday would make him an adult, even though functionally nothing was different about his biology. This Mark didn't know that they were lovers. That they would be lovers, in any event. Like all the other dumb boys in the school, he talked about her being hot, and what he'd do to her, childish boasting and hormonal nonsense. They talked about how she tended to dress rather conservatively, but clearly she had a rocking' bod underneath her clothes. They'd seen her in the school gym a few times. Becky didn't know why she dressed so conservatively, now that she thought of it. There were certainly less attractive teachers on staff who dressed more sexily than she did. Connie Marangos, the English Lit teacher, was shaped like a pear and had a face like a foot, but she somehow managed to dress sexy. What was Becky's excuse? She didn't want to give the horny students any more masturbation material than they already got. Horny teenage boys were annoying. Even Mark was annoying. Would he get better by the time she caught up with him in the future, three months from now? She could hope, but she doubted it. He hadn't exactly proven so thus far on their adventures. Another quiet sigh escaped her as she glanced for a moment in his general direction. She wanted to pin that boy down right now and fuck him, hard. She couldn't, but she wanted to. It bothered her that she was starting to feel a tingle in her needy cunt, and there was nothing she could do about it. She'd have to wait to get home and take out her horny frustrations on Nanu. Not that the Egyptian girl would mind, of course. She thought back about what she and Mark had experienced so far in the time stream. They'd gone to seventeenth century France, gotten in several brawls, and Mark had been fatally shot, only surviving because he wasn't meant to die yet. She'd been kidnapped by Cardinal Richelieu and made a lady-in-waiting to Anne of Austria, and she'd met her own ancestor, the gorgeous, brilliant, and deadly noblewoman Alexandra D'Assaut, who had helped Mark rescue her from the Louvre, and out from right under the nose of the Sun King. Becky might have shot Porthos And might also have kicked Richelieu in the nuts. That sounded so weird, but it had happened. She was there. That, or she was on the world's longest and most intense acid trip. They went to Rome, to participate in a genuine orgy, and they'd met and bought the beautiful slave girl Nanu. The intent had been to set her free, and Becky had even paid gold for her; but Mark screwed everything up by getting arrested for fucking a Vestal Virgin, one of Rome's most sacred priestesses. One thing led to another, and they'd had to rescue him from being skewered by gladiators in the Colosseum, mostly by dropping the roof on the emperor. Mark, or 'Bonosus' as he was known in ancient Rome now, was probably the most notorious criminal in the empire not named Spartacus. It didn't surprise Becky that even in the time stream, everyone wanted to kill Mark. He had that effect on people. They'd finally brought Nanu forward in time with them, since she was hopelessly devoted to them, and leaving her on her own in Rome was dangerous for her, even if she had proof of her manumission. It had been an eventful few days since their arrival back home, with Nanu getting a crash course in the fact that everything wanted to kill her. At least to hear Nanu talk about it. Even common household items were absurdly dangerous for her, and noises that modern people just took for granted drove the younger girl nuts. Food was a big gamble with Nanu. Modern preservatives and nitrates wreaked havoc on her digestive tract, something she couldn't possibly have built any immunity to. To Becky's surprise, Nanu wasn't lactose-intolerant, because as a slave, she'd been given cow's milk, something peasants and slaves subsisted on and normal people were too good for. It was strange to Becky that bovine milk and beef had been considered low-class food back then. They'd probably change their minds if they'd ever had a filet mignon or a good porterhouse. Dumb ancient people. At least Nanu ate everything she possibly could. A yawn from Mark's direction brought her out of her reverie, and she restrained another scowl in his direction. It was nowhere near the first time he'd annoyed her with his lack of interest, but she was getting more irritated with it of late, because she knew what was coming. She had to put up with this. She had to fail him. Because his future self would come back in time and convince her to change his grade. She couldn't just give him a passing grade now to speed things up if she tried. Something would make her fail him. Which he so richly deserved. Why the universe gave this kid a time machine was beyond her. A retarded chimp would have deserved it more, and probably been less of a menace. She couldn't fuck him, not yet. But that didn't mean she couldn't fuck with him, right? "Mr. Simmons," she called in his direction, raising her eyebrow and getting everyone's attention, including his. She called him 'Mark' so regularly now that saying 'Mr. Simmons' seemed strange. "Since you are clearly well ahead of the curriculum, what with having time to yawn and stare out the window, I thought maybe you could explain the differences in the scalar and vector measurements to the class?" "I, uh;” he fumbled, looking worried now. "I;” "Well, go on," she said, gesturing with her hand. "We spent the entire second half of last week on the model, after all. The copious notes you took are still fresh, yes?" "I; that is; uh;” he said, going pale. "Dumbass," laughed one of the other boys from nearby. Several other students laughed, and Mark got pelted with crumpled-up balls of paper for looking like a dolt. Becky didn't bother feeling bad for him, since this had to happen in order for things to work out in the future. That, and the brat deserved it. A girl near the front, one Gina Felton, put her hand up, looking smug. She seemed to have the answers, generally. Becky restrained a sigh as she allowed the brown-haired girl to answer. Gina dutifully recited off the material they'd been given, even offering some explanation along the way to demonstrate that she understood what she'd been taught, not just parroting the lesson. She wasn't as smart as she thought she was, and she'd never be a physicist, but she came from a wealthy WASP family type that was so common in this neighborhood, and she was a kiss-ass to the faculty. Becky would give Gina her passing grade and get rid of her. If only were so easy with Mark. "That's, uh; that was I was gonna say," Mark added once Gina had finished her singsong response. More laughter and mockery was hurled his way. "Okay, enough, people," Becky announced, standing up to get their attention and put an end to the paper projectiles. "Miss Felton, well done. Mr. Simmons, you can stay after class and clean up the room, along with my chalkboards." Becky liked using chalk boards, because one of her two favorite professors in her university years had insisted on using them. It had seemed like magic to her when he'd used them, all these wondrous equations laid out for her, explained thoroughly, and then they were gone, replaced by more fascinating numbers, a guided tour into how the universe worked. Only he could- "Ma'am?" a voice called. "Miss Fischer?" Becky blinked, coming out of yet another reverie. She was beginning to think that maybe she shouldn't be giving Mark shit for doing it, since she kept zoning out during class, thinking about the profs. She and Nanu had a playdate with them later this week at Blackwell Manor, so she'd just have to keep it in her pants until then. "Sorry, I was remembering a lesson," she said, recovering and sitting down again, just in case she leaked through her slacks. Thankfully, they were moments away from the period ending, and she'd be free of these yahoos for another day. "Tomorrow, we'll stick our toes into the concept of Fleming's Left-Hand Rule and its application in electromagnetism. Whether you're working on the Large Hadron Collider, or your grandfather's ancient lawnmower in the future, this is a good thing to understand. Go ahead and get ready, just wait for the bell. Mr. Simmons, the chalkboard awaits your attentions." Yet more razzing at Mark's expense, while Gina just sat at her desk looking smug. As annoying as Mark was, Becky simply did not like Gina Felton. She was eighteen now, and Becky had good reason to suspect that the skinny little broad was carrying on with the History professor, Mr. Browning. The less she knew, the better. Kind of like about her own future. Ah well, she thought as she watched Mark dully begin wiping off the chalkboards and then pounding out the erasers. Not much longer to put up with this, and then the real fun begins. Just show some patience, girl. She somehow refrained from subtly taking a picture of Mark's ass with her phone. "Mistress, you're back!" Nanu chirped as she skipped up to the door, quite naked. "I didn't break anything!" "The fact that you led with that statement makes me suspicious," Becky sighed as she closed the door behind her. She then hung up her blazer on a peg and allowed the Egyptian girl to take her hand and pull her into the house. "Did you eat?" "Yes, Mistress, everything you left for me," Nanu announced proudly. "Nothing left. Did I do well?" "You ate everything I left you for you?" Becky asked, raising an eyebrow. Nanu dragged her into the dining room and gestured grandly at the table. The top was covered in plates, bowls, and containers, along with utensils. Even the peanut butter jar, which had been mostly full this morning, was seemingly licked clean. "Holy shit," Becky mumbled in English, gazing at the table. "You ate absolutely everything." "Did I do right, Mistress?" Nanu asked. What did Becky tell her? That Nanu had eaten the food she'd prepped and was meant to last for a few days? She hadn't exactly been that explicit, because she hadn't thought to tell Nanu that. She'd overlooked how voracious Nanu could be. A lifetime of slavery saw to it that Nanu ate every meal as if it might be her last. Well, that was on Becky. She'd just start again and be more concise next time about her expectations. "I'm proud of you for looking after yourself," she said finally, making the tiny girl beam with delight. "Did you have problems with anything I showed you?" "I played with the water makers a little bit, and practiced washing my hands," Nanu said, waiting impatiently while Becky started removing her work clothes. "Your soap is very different from what my masters used. It smells nice, not like piss." "Maybe because we don't use urine in our soap these days," the blonde observed as she tossed aside her skirt and then began undoing her bra. Nanu, predictably, just watched intently, almost salivating at the thought of her Mistress' tits. "So now you know how to keep yourself clean. Tonight, I'll let you try to work the shower, that way you can use it if I'm not home and you need to wash up." Nanu nodded. "It was awkward trying to get the peanut butter off my cunt. I am very flexible, but even I couldn't reach it all with my tongue. I used a cloth finally. But I tried, Mistress, I really did." "Nobody made you smear the peanut butter on yourself, silly," Becky laughed as she shucked her bra, revealing her lovely tits to Nanu. Then she bent over and peeled off her underwear. "But I'm glad you fed yourself and know how to get clean, my love. It sounds like you had a good day." "There were so many things to do, Mistress," Nanu breathed, enjoying the sight of Becky's hairless cunt. She'd never seen a more perfect cunt. "I was amazed by how strong your sheets are. And I glided up and down the hallway in my socks, and I listened to music and danced;” "I'm so pleased that you worked out the controller for the stereo," Becky cooed, caressing Nanu's cheek. The smaller girl closed her eyes, enjoying the touch before turning her head a little to kiss her Mistress' palm. "What music did you listen to?" "But I am proud to be your lover, and that you're my Mistress," Nanu protested. "And I am proud of you, Nanu," Becky assured her, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. "But just trust me on this, okay? Hearing people called 'Mistress' will be very weird to some of them. I want tonight to be fun, not awkward." Nanu sighed somewhat despondently and nodded. "So I must call you Re-be-kah tonight?" The blonde pondered the matter. "Can you say 'Becky'?" Nanu pursed her lips. "Beh-kee." "That's what all my friends call me," Becky said, pulling Nanu into a hug. It was weird to have their jackets in the way and not be able to feel their tits squashing together. "Except for M-ark," Nanu pointed out, enjoying the hug, even if she couldn't feel her mistress' tits. "He called you 'Beks'." "Well, Mark's an idiot, and he's lucky he's the one with the time machine, or I would flunk him into eternity," Becky muttered, preferring to not think about the bane of her academic existence. "Asshat." "Ass-hat;” Nanu repeated. "Mark is an ass-hat?" She's like a toddler, Becky thought, making a note to watch her language. She retains all the naughty words she shouldn't know. "Let's go, Noah Webster," Becky sighed, standing up again. "Your chariot awaits;” The Gardiner Expressway, heading south. Nanu was indeed turned sideways in her seat, despite the seatbelt, her face plastered to the window as she gaped in awe at the scenery that sped by. Aside from the endless metal monsters that were running with them or in the opposite direction, there were also tall buildings and houses, bright lights on tall posts, and even giant bridges that they went under and didn't fall on their heads! Nanu was too astonished to remember to be frightened of everything. Becky smiled as she drove, pleased that Nanu was distracted and not cowering in fear. Not that she would blame her. It had taken some convincing to get her into the car at all, but once she discovered how comfy the seats were, she warmed up to the idea quickly enough. Becky buckled her into her seat and even let Nanu honk the horn once before they pulled out. Nanu yelped in shock at the loud sound, but then clapped in delight, realizing that she could (if allowed) control the beast's roar. She took it slow at first, driving at a virtual crawl through her neighborhood, letting Nanu get a feel for the movement of the car. She was going places, but her legs weren't doing any of the work. It was like being in a palanquin or a chariot, only completely enclosed. The roar of something called an 'engine' surrounded her, replacing the clatter of iron-bound wooden wheels and horse hooves. It was almost twilight, and the lights on the tall posts glared brightly, making Nanu shield her eyes occasionally. She could see people in their own metal beasts, men and women, often with children riding along in the seats behind. She smiled brightly and waved back at one little girl who had seen her and waved to her. "We are going so fast," she breathed, almost wrenching her neck as she tried to watch cars whip by in the opposite direction. "Nobody in the world has ever gone as fast as this, I'll bet." Becky thought about that, realizing Nanu was probably right. She was going just over seventy kilometers per hour at the moment, but that was faster than anything had ever gone until locomotive engines came on the scene, once again in the mid-nineteenth century. It may have seemed slow to her, but it was light speed to Nanu. "Oh, we can go a lot faster than this, Nanu," she said casually, enjoying her lover's innocent wonder at everything. "Go faster!" Nanu urged in excitement. "Go faster than all the other metal beasts! Shame them!" "; except for maybe that one;” she added in a faltering tone as a red Ferrari whipped by, the roaring noise of its engine filling the interior of Becky's car. "How do you make the beast go faster, Mistress? I do not see reins or a whip." "It's not alive, remember? It's just a machine, a bunch of parts put together to make a mechanism," Becky answered, knowing most of this would go over Nanu's head. "I control its speed with the pedals at my feet, and which way it goes with this wheel in my hand." "Can we go faster and leave all these other beasts behind?" Becky smiled. "Not right now, my love. There are laws about how fast you're allowed to go when there are lots of other cars around. It prevents accidents." "But what could hurt us?" Nanu asked. "The beast is metal, we are surrounded by all this metal. We are invincible." "If we hit or got hit by another car, the metal won't protect us entirely," Becky pointed out, thinking that maybe she'd show Nanu some car crash safety videos, put the fear of the car gods into her. And if we hit a person, we'd pretty much kill them at this speed." Nanu thought about that. "But we'd be okay, right?" Becky sighed and resisted the urge to turn the car around. The Malted Cat, thirty minutes later. "Hi, everyone, sorry we're late," Becky called out, waving as she headed to the table where everyone was already gathered. "You know this time of night on the Gardiner, traffic was a bitch." "Bitch;” Nanu parroted, but was too far away still for anyone to hear her aside from Becky. Nanu was looking around at the establishment, which didn't remind her of any tabernus she'd ever seen before. This was loud and chaotic, with people everywhere and what might have been music blaring. People were wearing so many different outfits, some of which were almost nonexistent to Nanu. They walked up to the table, where five other people, three women, and two men, were already sitting. A few of them had the same straw-colored hair as her mistress. Two of the women were skinny, one was rather fat. One of the men was skinny and balding. She doubted he got fucked very often. Becky stopped at the table, with Nanu beside her. "Everyone, this is Nanu, she's staying with me." "Hi," Nanu said, holding up a hand and remembering the greeting word that people used in En-gush. "Hi." "Hello," they all said back pleasantly, smiling at her. She liked the fact that they greeted her and hadn't noticed she was a slave. Or at least, had been. Sometimes she worried it clung to her like a stench she would never be rid of. At least they'd brought her manumission documents with them from Rome to this world of tomorrow, just in case she had to prove it. "Nanu, let me introduce my friends and co-workers," Becky said in Latin, before pointing to people. "This is Kay, that's Shirley, this is Annie, that's Steve, and this is Ed." "What were you speaking to her just now?" Ed asked, seeming curious. He was the balding one. "Latin," Becky replied as room was made for them at the table, with Steve pulling up two more chairs. "She doesn't speak English, and I don't speak her native language, so we communicate in Latin." Becky's friends all looked at one another quizzically, but then realized that none of them spoke Latin. Becky would be interpreting all night. Frankly, that was just fine with Becky, since it allowed her to control things where Nanu was concerned. "Nanu-nanu!" Steve said to the new guest, holding his hand out sideways, fingers splayed apart in twos. Nanu seemed confused before she spread her own fingers tentatively and then slid them into Steve's, who grinned and began shaking up and down gently. "Good to meet you!" "Steve, I'm not drunk enough for Mork and Mindy jokes yet," Becky sighed, settling Nanu in a chair while the smaller girl looked at her hand curiously, still held open the way he'd shown her. What was that supposed to mean? Was it one of the standard greetings of this age? Then she started noticing small details, both of her new associates, and around the place. Her eyes widened when she saw a tattoo on the arm of the fat woman, Shir-lee. Then she noticed one on Steve. She looked around and saw that many people around this club had tattoos. She looked at Becky with concern. "So many people," she said quietly, hoping only Becky heard her. "They have stigma (tattoos). Some of your friends have them! Are we surrounded by criminals?" Becky thought about that for a moment and then shook her head. "No, Nanu. In my world, tattoos are just art. There have been times in the past where criminals or people considered undesirable have been branded, but this isn't a thing anymore. People wear tattoos because they mean something to them, or they're just art." Nanu sighed in relief. "I somehow avoided getting a tattoo or branded as a Flavian slave, I was lucky. Most of the other slaves had them, I found it humiliating." "Is she okay, Becks?" Annie asked curiously. "She looks a little spooked." Becky smiled and nodded. "The tattoos all around her freaked her out. Where she comes from, tattoos are brands on slaves or criminals and law-abiding citizens don't get them." "Well, I like to think I'm a bad girl," Shirley said in a sassy tone and wearing a wicked smile. "And I've got another tattoo in another place that'd prove it, for sure." This drew laughter from her friends, and she rolled onto one cheek subtly and patted the other one. Annie popped Shirley on the ass, making her squeak and more there was laughter around the table. "So, Nanu," Kay began, smiling across the table at her. Becky was on one side of Nanu, and Ed was on the other. Nanu almost needed a booster chair to sit at the table. Thankfully, the bouncer at the door had accepted her identification, even if he seemed skeptical at first. No doubt having Becky there helped. "Do you want a beer, honey?" Nanu knew she was being asked a question and looked at Becky, who translated. "Cervisia. Do you want one?" Nanu wrinkled her nose in distaste. "That is a barbarian's drink! I am civilized." "You thought cow's meat was barbaric until the other day too," Becky pointed out. "Now I can't keep you out of it. Your ancestors made beer before they discovered wine, you know. At least try it, it's polite. Do you remember what I told you about how to respond if someone offers you something?" Nanu looked at Kay and spoke slowly. "Please an-du fank you." Kay looked delighted and ordered beers for Nanu and Becky. The Egyptian girl settled in and just listened quietly while the conversation picked up around her. Becky had told her that she was free to simply listen, or look around the bar. If someone addressed Nanu, Becky would tell her. Nanu was more than happy to just sit quietly and observe. Beer arrived, with a tall pint glass for Becky, and a half-pint for Nanu. She frowned at her smaller glass. "Why did I get the child drink?" Becky almost laughed while Nanu seemed to glare at the golden liquid and the tiny bubbles. "First of all, children aren't allowed to drink beer because of the alcohol. Second, I got you a smaller glass in case you don't like it. Less goes to waste." Nanu glanced at Becky now. "So if I don't like it, I don't just smash the glass on the floor and demand a different drink I like?" Becky blinked. "No, darling. We are very respectful to our servers at all times." "But they are nobody." "Nanu, just; trust me on this, okay?" Becky almost pleaded. "Always be polite, always. When it time to not be polite, I'll let you know, I promise." "Fine," Nanu sighed, picking up the glass with both hands and tilting it so that she could take a sip while everyone watched. Her eyes widened and she put the glass back down on the table, her cheeks bulging as she looked at Becky in panic. "Swallow," Becky instructed. "It's fine." Hesitantly, the tiny girl swallowed and then gasped rather loudly and dramatically. "It is so cold, but it burns!" "You didn't mind when the pop was fizzing in your mouth," Becky said. "The pop was sweet. This is; why is this beer? It doesn't taste like beer at all!" "It's beer, I promise you, just that we make it differently than they did in your time." "Is she okay?" Steve asked, watching Nanu curiously. They all were, in fact. "She's never had beer like that before," Becky explained. "She only just tried pop for the first time the other day." "You said she's from Egypt?" Shirley queried. "Is she Muslim and she's not allowed to have alcohol?" "Trust me, she's not Muslim," Becky assured her co-worker while Nanu eyed her beer suspiciously. "She was a slave most of her life, and she has very limited experience with, well, just about anything. We're taking it slow, but I want her to see what her new life is all about and has to offer." "Would she like wine instead?" Kay asked. "No, let her figure this out," Becky replied, going back to her own beer. "I have yet to find anything she won't eat or drink, so give her a bit." Becky knew she'd have to get some food in Nanu before long, because Nanu's alcohol tolerance might be perilously low, especially on what was essentially an empty stomach. She'd let Nanu pick whatever sounded good, and just deal with the consequences later. There was only so easy she could make this for her. Her body needed to adapt to modern cuisine sooner or later, right? The conversation began again, mostly everyone venting about their stupid students and the idiotic things they said, did, or turned in. Every once in a while, someone asked Nanu something, and Becky translated, letting Nanu respond as best she could. But mostly, they simply adhered to Becky's rule of letting the new girl observe and listen. "I swear, this one girl is a complete moron," Annie groused. "Any of you have Angie Staples in any of your classes?" Nanu heard several of them moan and roll their eyes, almost slumping back in their chairs. They began griping about something or someone, repeating a word that sounded like a name. It reminded her of how her mistress complained about M-ark. "Hey, she's not a bigger dolt than Simmons," Becky pointed out. "That boy is hopeless in my class. If he made any less effort, he'd forget to breathe." "At least he's cute," Kay said, making Annie and Shirley laugh. "I'd totally fuck Mark if he was legal." At the mention of the name 'Mark' and the word 'fuck', Nanu perked up just slightly and then looked at Becky. And this was not lost on the other women. "Why did she just look at you when I mentioned fucking Simmons?" Kay asked, looked at Becky now. "I; no; Fischer, no;” "What?" Becky said rather defensively. "Rebecca Fischer, are you doing things with that boy?" Kay pressed, smiling slyly. Annie and Shirley's eyes lit up excitedly, whereas Ed and Steve remained silent, trying to not look put out. "Are you nuts?" Becky said rather more loudly than she should have. "He's my student!" "He's all of our students, and the only thing he's good at is Phys Ed," Annie laughed. "He's turning out to be a hunk, I saw him running track in the gymnasium with no shirt the other day. Kay's right, none of us would blame you if you were getting it in from him." "I assure you, I am not getting it in from that dough-head sitting in my classroom," Becky said firmly. It was technically true, if only because the Mark sitting in her classroom hadn't fucked her yet. "So why did Nanu look at you so suddenly?" Kay pressed, not willing to concede the point just yet. "She's heard me complaining about how abso-fucking-lutely useless he is in my class," Becky explained, which was also technically true. "He's failing harder than a SCUD missile. Makes me crazy." "I'd go crazy on him," Shirley quipped, smiling slyly behind her beer glass while Kay and Annie burst out laughing again. Becky sighed and shook her head, but at least she seemed to have deflected that particular line of inquiry. Despite Kay's contentions in private about her proclivities, most people believed Rebecca Fischer to be a prudish nun stuck in a porn star's body. Only this small crew ever saw her let her hair down, like tonight. Garlic bread, mozzarella sticks, and wings arrived at the table as an appetizer, and Becky encouraged Nanu to try everything. The teachers all watched in astonishment as she tried each of the items and then began devouring them in rapid succession. "Guess I'm buyin' this round of appetizers," Becky said, shaking her head as she watched her charge annihilate the food. "I'll buy the next round too, just to make sure everyone gets something." "Oh, I'm buyin' her a round as well, just to keep watching," Annie said in fascination while Nanu mowed through the appetizers like the Tasmanian Devil. "Do you ever feed her, Becks?" "I told you, she was literally a slave in her old life, and she eats everything in sight as a defensive measure," Becky sighed. "She's not being rude, I promise. I've literally watched her eat a pound of bologna and empty a full jar of peanut butter." "Ba-lo;” Nanu managed to mumble through a mouth full of biomass as she kept storming the appetizers. Everyone was enjoying watching, even if they had to wait for their own shares to arrive again. She also kept sipping at her beer, seeming to have dropped her objections to it. Becky realized she might actually need help from the time stream to keep this girl fed. Nanu had pretty much polished off all her food when the second round of appetizers arrived. She eyed Steve's basket of wings hungrily. He saw her staring and gestured to the steaming heap of saucy poultry. "Want to try one?" "Nanu, darling," Becky said, holding up a hand to interrupt. "You might find that' But Nanu had already stripped most of the meat off the tiny bones of one wing by the time Becky had begun to object. She was chewing away when she paused on her eyes went wide. "Steve, you jerk," Becky said, scowling at her co-worker while Nanu started trembling while still chewing, her face turning red and her eyes starting to water. "She doesn't know what suicide sauce is." Nanu had her forehead pressed against the table and was thumping her little fist against the surface, still resolutely chewing, even as she whimpered and moaned in pain. "Gotta admire her pluck, though," Kay mused, watching the tiny girl try not to writhe. "I didn't know she couldn't handle it," Steve protested. "Don't they have hot food where she comes from?" "See if I ever sub for you the next time you need a day off," grumbled the blonde, patting Nanu on the back gently while calling over a server. Fifteen minutes and a gallon of milk later. "I can't believe she ate all my wings," Steve murmured, watching Nanu polish off the last wing while staring directly at him defiantly. "A whole pound, I got like, one." "Serves you right," Becky grunted, making sure Nanu had lots of wet wipes and used them regularly in case she tried to rub her eyes. Milk wouldn't help then. "I can't believe she's still eating them," Annie said, watching with morbid fascination. "I mean, you can see they still hurt her, but she won't quit." "Now that she knows milk dulls the fire, she doesn't have to," Becky sighed, also watching while eating her own honey-garlic wings. Nanu had stolen half of those, too. The only reason Shirley and Kay's food was (mostly) safe was because Nanu was too short to reach across the table. "And she's mad at Steve, so she's making a point." She knew that she and Nanu could both regret this in a few hours, that Nanu might be up all night again in the bathroom, but apparently she was willing to risk that to get the message across; don't fuck with Nanu Tehemet. Nanu polished off the wings and then knocked back several glasses of milk Becky had lined up for her, followed by her beer. She put the last down and let out a thunderous belch that echoed around the area. Everyone's eyes widened at the noise, except for Becky, who just shook her head. People at other tables looked over, perplexed that someone so small could release such a giant noise. Annie cleared her throat. "Well, I; I hear that in some Middle Eastern cultures, burping is a sign that a person appreciates the food they were served." Nanu patted her chest with her little fist and sighed happily. "Nanu," Shirley said, getting her attention directly. She gestured to her shirt and then at Nanu's. "I like your shirt." Nanu realized what the fat woman was talking about and then beamed happily, thrusting her chest forward and thumbing at the logo. "Let Zeppli!" "Do you like them, honey?" Shirley asked. Becky translated and Nanu nodded eagerly. "Let Zeppli!" "I like them too," Shirley said, pleased to be connecting with the exotic foreign girl. "Shirley says she likes Led Zeppelin too," Becky explained, leaning in to be heard over all the noise. The karaoke had begun, and they were near the stage. "The fat one likes Zeppli?" Nanu asked, shocked. "Is she allowed?" "Nanu!" Becky gasped, bursting into snickers. "You can't just comment about people's weight like that!" "What's funny, Becks?" Annie asked, curious. Becky was still snickering as she tried to wave it off. "Pretty sure Nanu thinks only she's allowed to like Zeppelin. And maybe I'm allowed. Pop culture still eludes her." "Well, she's got the hot wings and big tits part down already, I'd say she's halfway there," Kay quipped, making everyone laugh. Shirley had excused herself from the table for a moment. More food was ordered, along with beer or cocktails, and the gripe session continued about what complete morons the kids of this day and age were becoming. And the ones that weren't morons were completely unlikable. "So how long is she stayin' with you?" Kay asked as she watched Nanu attack the jalapeno poppers. "For the foreseeable future, really," Becky answered. "Like I said, she was a slave back home, she has no life to return to, and it was borderline Stone Age subsistence. I can't just let her go, or turn her over to the system, she'll die. She knows nothing. I'm doing what I can to help her adapt and learn about her new world. One day, she'll be fine." "That's really noble of you, Rebecca," Ed stated, getting his share of an onion blossom before Nanu saw it and murdered it. "But it could be years. I'm not trying to make her sound like a pet dog, but this could be a long commitment on your part. How did you even meet her?" "Honestly?" Becky said, having a rehearsed answer already. She'd tried to anticipate as many questions as possible for tonight. "I met her in Rome. That's where I managed to get her out of her slavery life." "Wow, Becks, you have like a whole secret agent life goin' on," Annie said, sounding impressed. "When the heck did you even go to Rome?" "It seems like ages ago," Becky said rather evasively. "Frankly, things have been crazy of late and I almost can't keep track without a time machine." A round of laughter from her friends, and Becky heaved a sigh of relief. She didn't expect anyone to be making inquiries, but the fewer questions, the better. Nanu seemed oblivious, noshing away happily on more pub grub and seeming determined to try everything. She'd just plowed through the calamari Annie had bought for her. "Hey, everyone!" called a voice from the stage, sounding tinny over a microphone. Becky looked up and saw Shirley standing on stage, smiling at them all. "I'm dedicating this number to a new friend I met tonight, I hope she likes it! Nanu, this one's for you!" Nanu looked up at the mention of her name, right before the music began, blaring through the bar's speakers all around them. Her eyes flashed in excitement as she looked at Becky, grabbing her hands. "Zeppli! Zeppli!!!" she squeaked, bouncing up and down in her seat. "Yes, my love," Becky laughed. "Shirley is about to sing a Zeppelin song for you, and it's the one you know already." Nanu clapped and squealed some more, bouncing up and down in her seat as she watched the fat woman begin to sing. "Let me take you to the movie, Can I take you to the show, Let me be yours ever truly, Can I make your garden grow?" "Nanu, you should go up and dance," Becky suggested, bumping and gyrating in her seat. "I'm sure Shirley would love it." "Really, Mistress?" Nanu gasped, his features alight with eagerness. She'd forgotten to call her Mistress by her name, but nobody seemed to notice. "Just make sure you keep your clothes on, okay?" Becky warned, trying to sound serious, but winking at her lover. "Go have fun." Nanu was out of her seat like a shot and scrambling up onstage before she began to dance around, just like Becky had shown her. Everyone at the table hooted and cheered while Shirley laughed, still between stanzas. While Nanu bounced and wiggled around the stage, the teacher started singing again. The pneumatic effect Nanu's movement had on her body held everyone spellbound. Her jeans were snug enough to show off her amazing ass, and her Zeppelin shirt was stretched tight across her ample tits, which jiggled continuously. "From the Houses of the Holy, We can watch the white doves go, From the door comes Satan's daughter, And it only goes to show, that you know!" Becky laughed gaily as she watched, clapping along. She couldn't believe how well this was going! Nanu was having a blast, and even if she was going to be shitting herself all night because of the hot wings Steve had let her eat, it was a small price to pay to see the Egyptian girl absolutely radiant and doing what she did best, dancing. They'd have to do this more often, as long as she kept Nanu safe. Not that this bar was dangerous, of course. "There's an angel on my shoulder, In my hand a sword of gold, Let me wander in your garden, And the seeds of love I'll sow, you know!" Nanu spun and pranced around the stage, lost in the joy of her dancing. She never felt more alive than when she was dancing, even when she was fucking. Or at least very rarely, and pretty much never when she'd been a slave. This new world and new life were going to teach her so many wonderful new things! She stopped dancing for a moment, breathing heavily in excitement as she just watched Shirley sing, standing close enough to understand that she was singing into some little thing that looked like a black cock and made her voice echo all around the room. "So the world is spinning faster, Are you dizzy when you stall? Let the music be your master, Will you heed the master's ca" In her mounting excitement, Nanu had grabbed the microphone out of Shirley's hands and was now closing her eyes and singing into it with all her heart. "Ah; Wa-Oh-Gur-Oah! Or-Nyu-Wo-Ah!" The entire audience was just watching in confused and then stunned silence as Nanu wailed discordantly into the microphone, assaulting everyone's ears with the blistering noise she was making. Eventually, even the recording of the Zeppelin song was halted, and Nanu was screeching to a silent space. Realizing the music had ended, she opened her eyes and then paused, seeing everyone gaping at her. But then a group at one large table right next to the one she'd been sitting at burst into derisive laughter, jeering and mocking her, apparently imitating the sounds she'd been making, and also flailing their limbs about like they were having seizures. Their faces were screwed up, made to look like the cursed child jesters that the Roman elite kept at their courts and made fun of. They were making fun of her! "Hey, someone get the retard off the stage!" guffawed one man, still mocking her by slapping a limp hand and forearm against his chest and making the stupid face. His buddies howled with laughter as he imitated her sound again. Until he was spun in his chair and Becky's fist slammed across his jaw, snapping his head to the right and knocking him out cold. Everyone at the table went very still, not daring to move as Becky glared at them all, her blue eyes flashing menacingly. "Anyone else?" she challenged. The men all stayed silent, not daring to say a word of move a muscle. "That's what I thought," she growled, standing up now and looking down at them in contempt. "Fucking cowards." She looked over at the door and caught the attention of the bouncer on shift, an imposing guy named Jake. She tilted her head at the idiot she'd just coldcocked, and he nodded, knowing he was about to clear out that table and make them take their unconscious friend home. He'd seen Becky drop guys before, and it was always justified. If she hadn't dealt with them for mocking the screaming girl, he might have. Thankfully, it was seen to. "C'mon, honey," Becky said, walking up to the stage and removing the mic from Nanu's hands, while she just stared at her Mistress, seemingly frozen. "Shirley, take over, will you?" Shirley nodded and got another song going, beginning to sing again while Becky led Nanu back to her seat. Around the bar, things had returned to normal. Nanu still seemed silent and very out of sorts. Becky sat her down and took her hands, smiling at her. "I'm sorry, honey," she said softly, caressing the crestfallen girl's cheek. "What they did was wrong. He deserved to get punched, I promise you." Nanu looked up at her now, perplexed. "Am I; am I that awful to listen to, Mistress?" Becky apparently hesitated a split second too long, because Nanu seemed aghast at the lack of response. "I am terrible! Please, Mistress, tell me! How bad am I? Be honest." A deep breath as Becky composed her thoughts. "Truth, Nanu?" The Egyptian girl nodded nervously. "You; well, it; it sounded like a cat getting run over by a chariot with knives for wheels," Becky confessed, blushing while the other teachers looked on, having a fairly good idea what was happening, even if none of them spoke Latin. She smiled somewhat wanly. "Maybe; just stick to dancing, okay? You're so very good at that, after all;” Nanu slumped back in her chair, seemingly in disbelief, even failing to notice the table right next to them getting cleared out by the bouncer. She stared off into space for some seconds, not even noticing the other Zeppelin song that Shirley was now singing. "I'm terrible," she murmured to herself. "Cats getting murdered sounds better than me singing;” She then blinked and looked at Becky, seemingly her normal self. "Oh well. May I have more food and another beer now?" Becky laughed in relief and nodded. No trauma seemed to affect Nanu for too long. She always had food and fucking to retreat to. She ordered more hot wings, knowing Nanu felt she had even more to prove now. An hour later. "So you seemed like you had a good time, hmm?" Becky mentioned as she drove north on the Gardiner, taking them home. It was quite dark out, and she hoped against hope that Nanu wouldn't be up all night in the bathroom, or that she wanted to stay awake and fuck, because Becky had to work in the morning. "I did, Mistress," Nanu replied, nodding as she sat in her seat. She wasn't turned sideways with her face plastered to the window, watching the world race by. In fact, she was sitting rather placidly, her eyes somewhat unfocused. "And the food was all so good. And I think I'm drunk." Becky smiled. "We'll deal with that when we get home. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. Should we do it again?" "Can we?" Nanu gasped in delight, seemingly excited. "Let's do it every night!" "Not every night," laughed the blonde. "I can't afford to go out to eat and drink every night. But if you're good, maybe we'll make a treat of it once a week. There are lots of other places to try as well." "As long as assholes don't make fun of me for singing," Nanu sniffed, determined to not get over being impugned. "I hope they dumped him behind the building and people walking by just put their dicks in his mouth while he was sleeping." Becky smirked. Nanu clearly had a vengeful streak in her. Not that she blamed her, mind. Nanu had to simply watch while Becky meted out the punishment. She doubted Nanu was capable of inflicting any real damage on people who slighted her. "Do you think you can teach me to drive this beast, Mistress?" the tiny woman asked. "That's a long way off, honey," Becky replied. Hell, she doubted Nanu could see over the dashboard and reach the pedals at the same time. "Let's conquer walking properly in running shoes before moving on to wheeled death machines, shall we?" Nanu huffed and crossed her arms, looking put out. "I wouldn't run down THAT many people;” she muttered. Becky's home, half an hour later. They managed to close the front door behind them before they fell to their knees, arms wrapped around one another and kissing hungrily. They moaned as they began removing their clothes, swallowing each other's tongues. Earlier, Becky had hoped to make it through the night without any romantic interludes because she had to work tomorrow, but in the car, Nanu had started being naughty, reaching over and rubbing Becky's crotch or fondling her tits. It also didn't help when she shimmied down her jeans and began fingering her cunt, teasing Becky and nearly causing her to drift off the road more than once. A trucker had cruised by them, looking down at them from his cab. Nanu had lifted her shirt to show off her tits, as well as stroking her nether lips plainly for him to see. He'd honked his horn loudly in approval, despite the late hour. And Becky was obviously hornier than she'd been willing to admit, and she couldn't even blame it on alcohol, since she'd only had two beers and one cosmopolitan. No, she just wanted to fuck, and Nanu

(00:00-30:56) Joined by Joey Vitale on the phone lines. Gritty giving Joey nightmares. Flyers clip the Blues again. Two goal lead gets them again. Gotta find a way to extend the lead. Buch and the fans' frustrations with him. Joey's perspectives on rough stretches as a player and what the mindset is like. Tales from the road. Payola. Shout out, you animal. Rough times with lazy chickens. Pizza talk.(31:05-36:18) It's Pre-Gabe time and that means Drops of the Week. Thriller for SLU men's soccer last night in overtime. Not a lot of famous Herbs.(36:28-00:00) Gabe DeArmond of Power Mizzou joins us talking Tigers. Drink was ready to get out in front of Gabe's question on Tuesday. Whatever you thought Drink was going to do on Tuesday morning, you probably still thought on Tuesday afternoon. Waiting for the Lane Kiffin domino to fall. Gabe touches on the Beau Pribula injury update ahead of the Oklahoma game. Does Gabe think the Tigers can get the upset in Norman?See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Gotta love the internet, I'm giving a homework assignment.

On episode 39 of Really Weird Stuff: A Twin Peaks Podcast, we're discussing Twin Peaks the Return: Part 78- "Gotta light?" This episode was written by David Lynch and Mark Frost, and Directed by David Lynch. It's best known as being the most cinematic episode of television that ever aired, and for presenting a complex metaphor for the battle between the light and dark and the perpetuating horrors that America unleashed when we decided to play god. Christopher Nolan could never. Special guest Megan Metzger joins us to discuss how Twin Peaks started her on her journey to media obsession from a very young age, and to attempt to comprehend this Ulysses of television episodes. We explore such mysteries as: WHY does the M.C. say THE Nine Inch Nails?WHERE exactly is Phillip Jeffries? WHAT is the real life inspiration for the Frog Moth?PLUS: The astonishing marriage of practical and VFX behind the visceral terror of the bomb and the Woodsmen. To learn more about Megan and her brilliant brain, follow her on instagram and check out her recurring shows (The Good Guy Show and Delightfully Unbothered) if you happen to be in Chicago! https://www.reallyweirdstuffpod.cominsta: @reallyweirdstuffpodbluesky: @reallyweirdstuff.bsky.social youtube: @reallyweirdstuffpod facebook: @reallyweirdstuffpodcast email: reallyweirdstuffpod@gmail.com

O espaço intitulado “Atacama Blues” vai, como o nome sugere, ocupar o território musical dos blues e os seus afluentes. Todas as semanas uma nova sugestão. Com André Gonçalves

Things Discussed: FOOTBALL v NORTHWESTERN When not being a terrible freshman Bryce was a five-star freshman. Some incredible throws in this one. Not that mad about 2nd interception because that was on the OC. Lindsey's gameplan of RPOs (ten Split Flows!) was perfect against Dantonio-style quarters. Got 70% of their yards, which is more important for future performance. RPOs were also good for getting Bryce feeling comfortable. We have a freshman but also a five-star, and he looked like one. Sam: Note the first drive was downfield passing! That throw to Andrew Marsh: wow. Shoutout to NW safety Robert Fitzgerald. Let's tamper with that guy! Andrew Marsh: What a perfect guy to be coming through. MARYLAND PREVIEW They're young with no running game to fall back on so they lose games. Gotta win jump balls against their big receivers. Malik Washington will be a good one, but no OL and no run game. Their defense is also young and mistake-prone. BIG TEN PRIVATE EQUITY DEAL ON HOLD, MICHIGAN AND USC FTW? Why the other schools want it: They're all in big debt because building debt (paid to their big donors) was how these non-profits made their revenue disappear while getting to keep most of it and making the ledgers balance for Title IX compliance (e.g. updates to Breslin are Women's Basketball expenditures.) Now you want to free the ledgers and the donors to pay players, so you need upfront capital to unravel the old system. Lock down a portion of Michigan's revenue. MSU, NW, IU, PU, RU, IL need to lock in a share of M/OSU revenue now because if the conferences break up for a super league they're not going to be invited. The length of the media rights contract is 20 years. This is CRITICAL. Michigan State has a real chance of becoming a mid-major. Ohio State wasn't on board until they got a clause giving them a bonus for selling more gear/stadium advertising. The way it's structured now they get more money than Michigan, which is all they wanted to hear. Why Michigan and USC don't want it: Michigan already got itself out of the debt cycle.

00:00 – 10:02 – Jeff is back and discusses attending the IU game over the weekend, Pacers get their second win of the season by knocking off the Hornets 10:03 – 21:00– Morning Checkdown 21:01 – 42:09 – NFL Power Rankings and where the Colts check in, is this a must-win for the Colts or is it next week against the Texans, better for the Bills or Texans to win tonight when it comes to Colts playoff big picture?, the immaculate grid, will Chiefs fans boo the team if they get behind against the Colts, Pacers beat the Hornets for their second win of the season 42:10 – 1:05:14– Kevin interrogates James about last night’s whereabouts, the Pacers troll Myles Turner last night, a listener has a conspiracy theory against the Chiefs, Chiefs strengths, Andy Reid, Morning Checkdown 1:05:15 – 1:16:39 – Scott Agness of Fieldhouse Files joins us to discuss the Pacers’ win over the Hornets last night, Bennedict Mathurin and a potential contract extension, Jarace Walker, WNBA labor update 1:16:40 – 1:24:22 – The Hoosiers are sitting pretty in college football, Fernando Mendoza discusses making the decision to go to Indiana and Curt Cignetti’s impact 1:24:23 – 1:47:05 – Jeff’s son finally gets his driver’s license, Kevin has a ChatGPT question about washing shoes, we play I GOTTA KNOW: Can Pacers equal Colts current win total before the end of 2025, an athlete career do-over, Thanksgiving side dish favorites, what are we watching, Morning Checkdown 1:47:06 – 1:57:13 – Butler basketball head coach Thad Matta joins us and discusses his current TV binge, Finley Bizjack, their 3-1 start and getting the most out of the roster, his favorite western star 1:57:14 – 2:03:58 – Bye week James, we hand out Jason Hammer’s plays for TNF and Colts-ChiefsSupport the show: https://1075thefan.com/the-wake-up-call-1075-the-fan/See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

It's another one of those weeks where we didn't do much, but we go deep on Bloodlines 2, get into it about the increasingly terrible user experience of Xbox, AI art in Black Ops 7, and more!00:00 Going to bed at a decent hour for once, proving your identity15:06 Bloodlines 2 has sunk its fangs into Julian54:17 Dark Deity II, Justin's final thoughts on Dispatch01:25:51 Justin's big adult adventure01:40:01 The enshittification of Xbox continues; Julian's theory on AI art used in Black Ops 702:06:24 Let's go to space02:32:13 Justin's movie roundup (Scream franchise, Final Destination franchise)02:45:21 CQC (Comments, Questions, Concerns)See John Gholson as Carl in the play Noise/Complaint on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pP1ynRInd34&t=5sTheme song and interstitial music by Megan McDuffee: https://meganmcduffee.comLogo and artwork by John GholsonAnnouncer: John GholsonJoin our Discord, learn about how you can support the show, and more: https://linktr.ee/TheStageSelectEmail: thestageselectpod@gmail.comCopyright 2024 Space Monkey Mafia Productions

Gotta hand it to smart prisoners, right? So we don't know whether this Setting the Bar story is directed toward the prisoner or the prison. Source: https://www.romania-insider.com/romanian-inmate-hacks-prison-it-system-oct-2025

Strap into your tighty-whiteys folks, because this week we take on Something's Gotta Give, a movie that opens with Crazy Town's “Butterfly” and only gets more bewildering from there. Nick, Elise, and Anthony wade through a Hamptons fantasy land where everyone is wealthy beyond reason, morals take the day off, and Jack Nicholson wanders around in tighty-whiteys giving new meaning to his SAG card. We did not plan to hit this one, but Diane Keaton's passing continues our accidental tradition of rearranging the watchlist every time Hollywood breaks our hearts. Once the shock wears off, the real questions start piling up. Why is half the cast named “Beauty,” and why does the movie treat CPR like a party trick? How is Keanu Reeves the only person behaving like he belongs in a functioning society? And at what point did Nancy Myers decide that age gaps large enough to trigger a carbon dating session should be adorable? Step aside Geoff and make room for Fair Weather Manny who decided that this is a world so disconnected from reality that he tapped out of this episode.   By the time we wrap, we are staring down the film's unbelievable box office numbers, the critic scores that feel like clerical errors, and the troubling fact that Nicholson's undercarriage has more screen presence than some billed actors. Pull up a chair and pour one out for Diane Keaton. You deserved better, we all did. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/  

From Bill Hicks: Rant In E-Minor https://www.comedydynamics.com/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

In this episode, Killa Fonte breaks down why you feel stuck....not from lack of talent, but from avoiding the pain required to grow. Learn how to embrace discomfort, use pain to uncover your limiting beliefs, organize your plans, execute with discipline, and reward yourself like a true professional. Dig deep and find the diamonds in your own dirt. Click here to book a free consultation with Niyi Sobo

There is no better way to embrace warm fuzzy feelings than the holidays. This week, Megan + Madi chat about their latest thrifting adventure, then share their holiday wish list! It's all about creating your own holiday magic and traditions as an adult. From craft nights to cookie exchanges. Gotta schedule it all out because before you know it, the holiday season will be here, then gone.IGThe Fuzzy PodMeganMadiYoutubeThe Fuzzy PodJoin us over on Patreon for bonus content!

Students at a prestigious military academy hold an insurrection when told the school will close. Gotta be honest, I never loved my high school that much. Starring Timothy Hutton, Sean Penn, Tom Cruise, Giancarlo Esposito, and George C. Scott. Written by Darryl Ponicsan and Robert Mark Kamen. Directed by Harold Becker.

"It's appropriate." Mr. Live 305 explains the Shipping Container's upcoming $5,000 bet, Doug Christie has back-to-back all-time great postgame press conferences, and Mike Ryan is aging at a historic rate. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

EP863: Bryan and Krissy are using using stream work to make the dream work! Plus, Frankie B may not giving us new content, but we can always look back at the past! TCBits: (TBT 2020 Bit from Ep#5) Dr. Dee mask debate Watch EP #863 on YouTube! Text us or leave us a voicemail: +1 (212) 433-3TCB FOLLOW US: Instagram:  ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@thecommercialbreak⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Youtube: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠youtube.com/thecommercialbreak⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ TikTok: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@tcbpodcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Website: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.tcbpodcast.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ CREDITS: Hosts: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Bryan Green⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ &⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Krissy Hoadley⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Executive Producer: Bryan Green Producer: Astrid B. Green Voice Over: Rachel McGrath TCBits & TCB Tunes: Written, Voiced and Produced by Bryan Green. Rights Reserved To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Have you ever been willing to “give up anything” for something you wanted? On this episode of Bewildered, we’re talking about the spiritual lesson that to be truly open to receiving something new, we first have to put something down. We share stories about letting go of things in our own lives and how that made space for wonder, awe, and our most precious experiences. It’s an episode full of laughter, insight, and inspiration to create more spaciousness in your one wild and precious life. Join us! CONNECT WITH US Follow Martha on Instagram The Bewildered Show Notes Follow Ro on Instagram Follow Bewildered on Instagram CREDITSWandering The Path by Punch Deck | https://soundcloud.com/punch-deckMusic promoted by https://www.free-stock-music.comCreative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported LicenseSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Did you know there's MAGIC in your Meditation Practice? Say Goodbye to Anxiety and Hello to More Peace & More Prosperity! Here Are the 5 Secrets on How to Unleash Your Meditation Magic https://womensmeditationnetwork.com/5secrets Join Premium! Ready for an ad-free meditation experience? Join Premium now and get every episode from ALL of our podcasts completely ad-free now! Just a few clicks makes it easy for you to listen on your favorite podcast player. Become a PREMIUM member today by going to --> https://WomensMeditationNetwork.com/premium The rush of morning is done, And here I sit alone.  In this moment of space, I return to what is known.  LONG PAUSE In the tornado of tasks, In the hurricane of hurry, It's so easy to be anxious, Let fear take over and worry. PAUSE Spinning fast, Gotta keep up, Don't let me drop one ball. We're gonna be late,  Let's go, let's go, Soon I'll hit a wall. Join our Premium Sleep for Women Channel on Apple Podcasts and get ALL 5 of our Sleep podcasts completely ad-free! Join Premium now on Apple here --> https://bit.ly/sleepforwomen Join our Premium Meditation for Kids Channel on Apple Podcasts and get ALL 5 of our Kids podcasts completely ad-free! Join Premium now on Apple here → https://bit.ly/meditationforkidsapple Hey, I'm so glad you're taking the time to be with us today. My team and I are dedicated to making sure you have all the meditations you need throughout all the seasons of your life. If there's a meditation you desire, but can't find, email us at Katie Krimitsos to make a request. We'd love to create what you want! Namaste, Beautiful,

Twice-over murderer Clyde Griffiths finds himself at the mercy of Johnny Law. Now he's in the hoosegow, awaiting his fate. Meanwhile, his fancy pals over at the campsite have are tres, tres bummed. Their own Clyde, arrested for murder? How could it be? And poor Sondra Finchley now left flummoxed and alone; "I don't believe a word of it," says she. Sorry, chicky, but belief doesn't come into play here. It's about the fact, ma'am, and nothing but.Support Obscure!Read Michael's substackFollow Michael on TwitterFollow Michael on InstagramSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Hostin joins executive producer Brian Teta to weigh in on some Senate Democrats joining Republicans to end the government shutdown and why she says Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer should step down from his position. Then, she discusses the Supreme Court striking down an effort to overturn gay marriage and she shares her insider knowledge on the bar exam after Kim Kardashian admitted she did not pass. Plus, she answers listener questions! Find Sunny's favorite knives from The French Farm, the Jetti weighted vests and even more at viewyourdeal.com while supplies last. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

HOUR 2- Gotta Secret, Jake's Almost Acoustic Date and MORE full 1984 Mon, 10 Nov 2025 16:42:00 +0000 4RhQxL0mJXXeQMBgoF2MDtA3z2HppPn8 society & culture Klein/Ally Show: The Podcast society & culture HOUR 2- Gotta Secret, Jake's Almost Acoustic Date and MORE Klein.Ally.Show on KROQ is more than just a "dynamic, irreverent morning radio show that mixes humor, pop culture, and unpredictable conversation with a heavy dose of realness." (but thanks for that quote anyway). Hosted by Klein, Ally, and a cast of weirdos (both on the team and from their audience), the show is known for its raw, offbeat style, offering a mix of sarcastic banter, candid interviews, and an unfiltered take on everything from culture to the chaos of everyday life. With a loyal, engaged fanbase and an addiction for pushing boundaries, the show delivers the perfect blend of humor and insight, all while keeping things fun, fresh, and sometimes a little bit illegal. 2024 © 2021 Audacy, Inc. Society & Culture False https://player.amperwavepodcasting

Gotta catch 'em all! Cancel your unwanted subscriptions and reach your financial goals faster with Rocket Money. Go to https://rocketmoney.com/SMOSHMOUTH today. Go to https://www.Zocdoc.com/SMOSHMOUTH to find and instantly book a top-rated doctor today.  0:00 Intro 4:15 When did you get into Pokemon? 13:37 Sponsor! 14:58 Favorite Pokemon 27:45 Sponsor! 29:03 Opening packs and collecting 57:37 Smosh Cast as Gym Leaders PODCAST: https://bit.ly/SmoshMouthSpotify https://smo.sh/SmoshMouthiHeart https://bit.ly/SmoshMouthApple  SUBSCRIBE: https://smo.sh/Sub2SmoshCast WEAR OUR JOKES: https://smosh.com WHO YOU SEE Shayne Topp // https://www.instagram.com/shaynetopp/ Damien Haas // https://www.instagram.com/damienhaas/ Tommy Bowe // https://www.instagram.com/tomeybones/ WHO YOU DON'T SEE (usually) Director: Selina Garcia Editor: Rock Coleman Producer: Amanda Lehan-Canto, Shayne Topp, Selina Garcia Production Designer: Cassie Vance Art Director: Erin Kuschner, Josie Bellerby Stage Manager: Alex Aguilar Prop Master: Courtney Chapman, Abby Schmidt Set Dresser: Luke Brau Set Dresser: Carly Hough Prop Assistant: Bridgette Baron Wardrobe Supervisor: Julia Rosner Audio Mixer: Scott Neff Audio Utility: Dina Ramli Director of Photography: Brennan Iketani Videographer: James Hull Camera Operator: Reagan Frazier Camera Operator: Cameron Dunbar Assistant Director: Oliver Wehlander Executive Vice President of Production: Amanda Barnes Senior Production Manager: Alexcina Figueroa Production Manager: Jonathan Hyon Production Coordinator: Zianne Hoover Operations & Production Coordinator: Oliver Wehlander Production Assistant: Caroline Smith Director of Post Production: Luke Baker DIT/Lead AE: Matt Duran DIT/AE: Beni Kimuene Post Production Coordinator: Ariana Martinez IT: Tim Baker IT & Equipment Coordinator: Lopati Ho Chee Sound Editor: Gareth Hird Director of Design: Brittany Hobbs Senior Motion & Branding Designer: Christie Hauck Graphic Designers: Ness Cardano, Monica Ravitch Director of Channel Operations: Lizzy Jones Channel Operations Manager: Audrey Carganilla Channel Operations Coordinator: Sabrina Lieberman Director of Social Media: Erica Noboa Social Creative Producer: Peter Ditzler, Tommy Bowe Merchandising Manager: Mallory Myers Social Media Manager: Kim Wilborn Social Media Coordinator: Margaux Bernales Social Editor: Vida Robbins Brand Partnership Manager: Chloe Mays Brand Partnerships Coordinating Producer: Liz Kummer Operations Manager: Selina Garcia Financial Operations Specialist: Natalie Lewis Talent Coordinator: Danielle Moses People Operations Specialist: Katie Fink Front Office Assistant: Sara Faltersack CEO: Alessandra Catanese Executive Producers: Anthony Padilla, Ian Hecox EVP of Programming: Kiana Parker Coordinator Producer of Programming: Marcus Munguia Associate Producer, Special Projects: Rachel Collis Executive Assistant: Katelyn Hempstead OTHER SMOSHES: Smosh: https://smo.sh/Sub2Smosh Smosh Pit: https://smo.sh/Sub2SmoshPit Smosh Games: https://smo.sh/Sub2SmoshGames Smosh Alike: https://bit.ly/SubToSmoshAlike FOLLOW US: TikTok: https://smo.sh/TikTok Instagram: https://instagram.com/smosh Facebook: https://facebook.com/smosh