Podcasts about granddad

In Part 2 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast Beezy and Granddad are joined by long time friend of the show CoreyBliss as they take on a tier list of some of the greatest Soulslike games ever made and see where they stack up. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Part 1 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast Beezy and Granddad give a full overview of the Nintendo Switch 2 console set to release in June of this year and also give their thoughts on the delayed preorder date due to the US Tariffs. They also talk about the huge box office success of "A Minecraft Movie" and also talk about the upcoming Season 2 of the popular game "Marvel Rivals". Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Part 2 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad are back with another bracket and this time they are pitting 32 of the most iconic weapons in gaming against each other to see which one reigns supreme. They then end the show with their live Q&A. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

-In a perfect world, you don't have to worry about the backup QB with the starter staying healthy—but that type of season rarely exists in any level of football, even though Dylan Raiola stayed healthy last year-Gramstad is referred to as “Granddad” by the team, and although he has a lot of experience playing quality football—it all came at an NAIA level in Iowa. We all know the competition level is a lot different than where he came from…Show sponsored by MIDWEST BANKOur Sponsors:* Check out Hims: https://hims.com/EARLYBREAKAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Hana shines and Aya rises.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.“It is selfish to believe that your family will always love you. At some point you will be asked to earn it.”My equilibrium decided to cut me some slack and not invoke the reflexive vomiting. "It is only me, Hana, Imogen, Deidre, Mom, Buffy, hi Juanita," I hadn't spotted my designated bodyguard standing behind Chaz."Don't talk to me right now," she seethed. "I'm furious with you." Yep, she was the Caribbean Buffy."Perhaps she's pissed about the five extra Illuminati bodyguards added to the regular two around Hana plus the two circling Ghost Tigers having not a fucking clue what those other armed parties are doing in Hana's company," Pamela joked. She could. Everyone else was giving me crap about my social gaff."Hey now. This meeting is important. Imogen and I are going to have a child," I enlightened them. The door chimed open and we piled in with two Amazons whose 'fresh' look indicated a use of the showers within the past ten minutes."You consistently maintain particularly low standards," Chaz dryly remarked."I sent her here for a check-up and that gave Buffy a chance to meet Mom, Deidre and Imogen, plus two unarmed bodyguards," I kept bailing out the Titanic."Chaz, I am happy we aren't going to miss this one (lunch)," Pamela smiled at her two grandsons."Cáel, are you going to tell your fiancée you've impregnated your aunt?" Chaz was back to being mildly sympathetic to my 'totally fucked-up' life."Yes. I figured Buffy shooting death rays at me from her eyes will garner me enough confusion to get the words out of my mouth without her throwing her drink in my face, slapping me, then storming out," I envisioned.I got no more shit until I reached the garage for my vehicle. There an armed FBI Special Agent Virginia Maddox (did you know when a Federal Agent adds 'Special' to their title it means they have a gun?) stood next to my chariot. She'd drawn the short straw, meaning she had been given the chore of driving today.I found myself wondering when Yasmin would finally finish her orientation. Her training involved some serious mental challenges including a crash course from the FBI at Quantico concerning modern judicial theory & practice as well as whatever pre-Iron Age jurisprudence the Host practiced.Javiera promised me (and Katrina) that she would not-so-subtly remind those scholastically-groomed legal minds that a (couldn't use the word 'Amazon') legal code they followed had existed, with minor tweaking, as a successful social instrument for over 3,000 years. If they truly behaved in a respectful manner, the owners of the code might even show those people the Codex on the original horse-skin, written in Hittite cuneiform.Anyway, everyone assumed I had a good reason for heading to my apartment (aka need to retrieve a sleepy Odette.) Had I repeated 'the Bitch stole my fortune cookies', they might have simply taken me to an Asian-inclined grocery store. As we hit the second story landing, Chaz in the lead, we heard a passel of folks come down toward us from the fourth level.I didn't think there were that many people on the entire floor. Chaz and Pamela each went for their holstered pistol, while keeping them hidden in their jackets. Wiesława, who went for her PDW, backed up so she could fire through the stairs from beneath.Juanita, bless her heart, and Virginia had remained in the S U V because sending in more people would have left us piled into one another. If a firefight did break out, Juanita could bring in some serious hardware to back us up while Virginia called the appropriate authorities before rushing in herself.Around the corner on the third floor landing came a number of women, early/mid-twenties, physically fit, foreign clothes and downcast expressions. A few looked like they were about to cry. They were all in shirts and jeans, with no obvious weapons. Not looking lethal didn't ratchet down Chaz's vigilance. Me? I was instantly reminded how much sex I had been missing."Prince Cáel! You are alive!" spilled out of the first one, a fiery red-head with a billowing, thick mane, porcelain skin and adorable freckles. Her Irish brogue was enchanting. I had to wonder if she cried out in Gaelic during orgasm. Wasn't I about to meet my future bride plus numerous other love interests?She was fit, curvy and wearing an aqua shirt which exposed her midriff with a belly ring bearing a pearl drop, the requisite tattered skin-tight jeans and soft leather calf-boots."Why wouldn't I be alive?" I grinned, like a pirate discovering an all-girls school oceanographic classroom in need of plundering."How do total strangers know how unlikely it is that you would still be alive?" was Chaz's spin on things."We talked with your roommate. He said you had moved to Svalbard where you suffered an excruciating painful, yet richly deserved, death in a lemming stampede," she pouted, "and then the UN had your ashes exiled to Pluto because the Sun was too good for you."9, 10, 11 --12 of them looking, 3 with pale blonde hair that eerily reminded me of my fiancée, another red-head, two russet and five with deep, dark brown, or black hair. They were all fit, fit, fit! With an air of 'I graduated college only to discover: 1) no one was hiring Saline Soil Scientists, or 2) I no longer want to do any of the things I wanted to do when I picked this major. I was familiar with both types.Timothy would have been at work and Odette would have invited the troupe in to regale them with all sorts of tales, which would have included a tour of my bedroom. They clearly had missed Odette so, now I recalled; that particular excuse was one of the ten I had given the guy in 4B should anyone suspicious come calling.I imagine twelve hot, English-as-a-Second-Language girls might be considered, a bit odd. See, his was my address of record. I lied about my actual apartment, so random people who came looking for me went to him instead. This arrangement had been made prior to my understanding of the nature of my employment at Havenstone.I'd neglected, telling him to move out and go far, far away? Poor guy. I'd find a way to make it up to him later."Actually it was a southern vole immigration incident that was set off by the Bulgarian consulate offering repatriation for the first 10,000 applicants," I frowned, clearly traumatized by memory of the incident."These poor southern vole, native to the vacationer-friendly Black Sea resorts, were accidently introduced to the coldest inhabited place in the Northern hemisphere and they've been trying to get home ever since, that would be the equivalent of a century and a half in 'vole-years.""Despite the UN trying to quarantine any news of this Cricetidae catastrophe, I decided to evacuate the six most critically injured vole using a Bortolanza Pluto ultralight, which he must have confused with the UN sending my ashes to Pluto," I explained.Mind you, the 'southern' voles are native to, among other places, Norway, the owner of Svalbard. They were also native to the Bulgarian Black Sea coast so, The Pluto ultra-light, once built in Italy, is now called the 'Puma' and made in Canada, has a maximum range of 675 km, which would leave me crash landing into the Barents Sea, 260 km north of the northernmost airport in Norway, rendering me and my voles so much frozen food."You are an animal rights activist too?" several of the girls gasped. Yes. Yes I was. I was an animal and I was all for me having rights."Please, don't tell anyone about this," I grew serious. "I don't want my philanthropic efforts to be publicized. What I do, I do for the Earth's endangered ecosystems because it is what everyone should do, not because we suddenly feel bad about neglecting it.""E haere koe ki te whai kia nui ai," Pamela snorted. I'd ask her why she knew Maori later, right after I figured why Grandpa knew it."Ko toku mahere whānui," I replied. The girls looked confused."I'm also trying to revitalize endangered languages and revive dead ones. It is more of a hobby than life pursuit," I informed them."You really are a modern-day noble warrior-poet," the red-head leader sighed."Nah. I'm just a guy," I shrugged. "Besides, Ba ch ir fear a bheith ar eolas ag a gn omhais, n  a oidhreacht." (A man should be known by his deeds, not his heritage)."Sa ch s go bhfuil misneach, t  s il agam," she replied using my 'family' motto."Jos on jalot on toivoa,", "Ahol van b tors ga, van rem ny," and "cesaret olduğu yerde umut vardır," all followed. 'Where there is Valor, there is Hope' in Finnish, Hungarian and Turkish. I got the sneaking feeling this wasn't a college field trip gone awry. These chicks were coming at me with a purpose that included more than sexual gratification and a kiss good-bye. Ugh."Thank you," I genuflected, paying honor to their reciting of my personal vow. "Anyway, you appear to be looking for me, but I am afraid I don't know any of you. Taking into account that I have a late lunch date with my fiancée in a half-hour and will be taking notes at a feminist convention at 8, what can I do for you?" I was establishing my escape plan."We have come here to join you," an assertive, dusky-skinned one smiled. I had to think about this. I was a bit tired. Taking all twelve of these girls on in one orgy was currently beyond me. I'd do eight tonight and the last four before breakfast tomorrow. Ah, happy thoughts of the Lacrosse Finals."What exactly do you plan to do with Mr. Nyilas?" Chaz interrupted."We are the (Irish) 'Na conairte soith an   S aghdha ar', (Hungarian) 'A szuka kuty kat Herceg Nyilas', (Turkish) 'Prens ok u Kaltak K pekleri' and (Finnish) 'Narttu koirista prinssi jousimies'," they chorused.Pamela snickered. All of those fancy sounding names were variations on 'the Bitch Hounds of Prince Archer/Nyilas (with the Irish going for O'Shea)."You want to be my bodyguards?" I gawked. Lacking lions, the Irish choice of the 'fur-balls of death' were hounds. Being women technically made them 'bitches'. I had to move fast. Any second now Wiesława was going to figure out these over-anxious non-Amazons were trying to replace her."You do realize I've left piles of dead bodies in my wake, right?" I nearly choked. Pamela slapped me on my back."Of course," they sounded so chipper. Fuck you Internet and 'First Person Shooter' games. This wasn't a fucking game! Trained combatants who joined my retinue met grisly ends and this was their freaking profession!"Can I think about it? I mean, do any of you have any combat experience at all? Attacked someone in anger? Send off a blistering instant message?""Some of us have (combat experience I was assuming). We won't let you down.""You do realize Ms. Dubois is going to kill them, don't you Sir?" Chaz sent me a chilling look."Ms. Dubois?", "who is that?" and "kill us?" floated around."Ms. Dubois is my blood-hungry ferret who wears a 'naughty berserker' human suit to trick the masses.""Three of us have military training," one of the Finns spoke up.By that they meant they had volunteered for military service in their native countries, then left after their first term because they found military life to be boring. On the 'plus' side, all but one had martial arts experience and six of the twelve had been a member of a Gun Club of some kind. Yep, Buffy was going to kill them, all twelve at once by herself."I'll make you a deal," I offered. Chaz was giving me his 'I'm a stone yet clearly unhappy with you' face. "At 7:15 tonight, you will show up at Havenstone. I will sign you in, we'll go upstairs to one of the gyms and then warm up for fifteen minutes. When you are ready, or 7:30 rolls around, we are going to the sparing mats. If I lose, you can stay. If you lose, you will write this off as one of a legion of ideas that look good in print yet are foolish in practice. Do you accept?""How many of us do you have to beat for us to join with you and your Crusade?" the lead Irishwoman asked."All of you. I will fight you all at once. The mat space is quite extensive.""You mean all twelve of us against you at the same time?" one of the Turks blinked in disbelief."Yes. I am not disrespecting you, any of you. You've shown initiative, courage and a spirit of adventure. I found all three to be both admirable and worthy of reward (i.e. I will gladly have sex with you). What I am also telling you is of the three people with me, the only one I can most likely defeat in single combat is her," I motioned to Wiesława, "and I'm only saying that because she is 19 and relatively new to the art of killing."Their eyes flickered to Pamela. Chaz was scary without even trying. Pamela could be threatening, or appear harmless, as she wished."Chaz is a professional military man from a long line of diligent warriors and in a branch of service that requires close contact with hostile individuals, teams, tribes, clans and nations.""The woman behind me is much, much worse. I've met precisely three people who could possibly kill her and I killed one of them. Would you agree, Chaz?""Absolutely," he concurred."We know who you two are," a Finn spoke up. She had a dazzling smile and cleavage that had to obscure her toes when she stood."You do?" Pamela played nice. For once, it was technology biting her in the ass, not me. Yay?"You are Rhingyll lliw Siarl Yfory," the Irish lass looked at Chaz. That was Welsh, and meant Color Sergeant Charles Tomorrow, I imagined his superiors in the British military weren't going to be happy with any of us, him being a 'secret military operator', emphasis on the 'secret'."And you are Sverkhsekretnykh Shpiona Vsemed Svaya," the Turkish girl pointed at Pamela. Pamela snorted. In Russian that meant 'Super-secret Spy Pamela Pile'. Since Pamela in Russia was pronounced 'Pamela' they had gone back to the origin of the name of Pamela, a fictitious 17th English novelist creation using mangled Hellenic, which translated as 'all-honey'.'All-honey' in Russian was Vsemed. Pamela snickered. Oh yeah, those twelve had combed through millions of articles and pictures to figure out who Chaz was and who Pamela claimed to be. Actually, one of my Hungarian admires back when we were all in Eastern Europe had suggested Pamela was a remorseful ex-SMERSH agent turned Princely-sidekick. Pamela jabbed me, the unspoken 'sidekick' thing.(For those who don't know, in Russian SMERSH loosely means 'Death to Spies', it really existed from 1943 to 1946 and was resurrected by Ian Fleming as a foil for James Bond.)"Chaz, since Cáel is, without a doubt, already having a stupendously wretched day, we must insist he inform Addison of all three of these developments, in person. I want to see the look on her face," Pamela plotted with the man who had thrown himself between me and an explosive vest, probably out of some psychic impulse that I would suffer far, far worse later, like in today, within less than 24 hours of said act."Why am I here again today?" I lowered my head and groaned."Are you okay?" a dozen innocent voices cried out."We are here to pick up Odette," Wiesława reminded me."Oh yeah, fortune cookies," I mumbled."Is 'Fortune Cookie' a nickname for one of your other operatives? Many of them are real enigmas. We can't find out anything about her," one of the Hungarians said. Yeah, because SD doesn't have a Facebook page, or Twitter account. Odette, she was protected by a completely unremarkable lifestyle, but I had a feeling that was fading fast."Excuse us," I asserted myself. "I need to get something on the third floor. Chaz began pushing forward while Pamela had my back."What are you doing?" to me and "Hey, is that a gun?" to Chaz, then Wiesława. Pamela was too sneaky to get caught."I'm here to pick up Agent Fortune Cookie then head out to a meeting with some really shady characters and my fiancée," I informed them."Agent Fortune Cookie," Chaz mused. "She's going to love that,""And then," Pamela continued."She is going to want a gun," I groaned.Oh goddess! No! Chaz had joined Pamela and my 'group think'."No, I have not," Chaz corrected me, about my mental ruminations."I've been coaching him," Pamela faux-consoled me. As my new prospective bodyguards parted for my current bodyguards,"Do you have psychic powers?" "Where is your android?" and "Is it true you can have sex up to ten times a day?""Yes, but we can't talk about it," then, "Which one? We have six models," and finishing up with, "Yes, I can have sex up to ten times a day with each session lasting at least an hour, though I do need breaks for food, drink, quiet romantic conversations and showers, cause shower-sex is so damn fun."While they mulled that over, I unlocked my door in time to see a nicely-dressed (as if she was about to go out on an expensive lunch date) Odette spring off the sofa. Looking at the crowd behind me, she blessed me with an incredibly happy smile."Oh cool! Do we really have enough time for an orgy?"I wanted to cry.(A Family FUNction, minus the 'fun' part)My fiancée giving me a congenial and contented look. Good.My fuck-buddy/friend Libra giving me a salacious 'you and me are going to hook up soon' smile while dressed in a red, 'business suite/slinky number' combo with a plunging neckline. I put her invite on my mental day-planner. Fellas, if you can't keep it in your mind, forget about it. Print equals pain, believe me.Brooke had joined the lunch group, sharing a smile and wink with Libra with the secret agreement for a three-way. Sweet! I could do this, hmm, lunch break Friday, yum-yum-yum. She was wearing a beige business suit with slacks, minus the shirt. Only her cunningly cut jacket kept her goodies from exposure.Hana was a saint for putting up with those two, and me.Buffy was studying me with the clear desire to put me in a dog cage for the rest of the week. Technically she had to produce my body for work Monday. As for the hot, sweaty, intense Brooke-Libra-Cáel m nage   trois, Buffy was reading the undercurrents and setting up a breakwater. At least her attire suggested well-paid, successful international assassin. I wondered if I had paid for her clothing as well. I'd given Chaz's wardrobe a serious upgrade courtesy of Pamela faking my signature.The gathering was rounded out by Mom, Imogen and Deirdre. Thank God they all had different hair styles and forms of dress. Mom was in 'casual-durable' attire, Imogen was going with the military-chic and Deirdre's get up was in the same style as Hana.I was pleasantly pleased that Hana had reserved two adjacent tables for what she assumed would be my support network, Pamela, Odette, Chaz, Wiesława and Juanita, plus Imogen's five and her (Hana's) two Illuminati minders. That made me squeezing my twelve newest over-eager admirers into the mix doable, if not comfortable. Better yet, none of the new girls was dressed for a restaurant this exclusive.Hana was quietly amused. Buffy was volcanic. Thankfully she was being a volcano on the mid-Atlantic ocean ridge ~ submerged."Chaz, Pamela, explain," Buffy seethed."I don't work for you," Pamela playfully bantered back, "Sweet-Cheeks.""They are part of a clandestine operation to provide cooperation and assistance from the European Union," I offered up in such a sincere manner. I almost had them. Buffy looked to Chaz who opted to channeled his 'inner- Cáel'."I can neither confirm nor deny their status as operators from four European nations," he nodded.Buffy forked a helpless appetizer shrimp then catapulted at one of my Finns, I thought it was Oili. It bounced off her bosom. She couldn't even claim to not have seen it coming."What?" Oili gasped."Operatives?" Buffy sizzled at me."Prince Cáel," Flannery asked, "why did that strange woman throw a, shrimp at Oili?""It was a hand-eye coordination test," Odette informed her. "Had Oili been a real spy, you would have snatched up a nearby napkin, deflect the item with the napkin and all while drawing down on her. It is what they do all the time. It is pretty neat to watch.""Why use a napkin?" Oili asked Odette while eyeing Buffy in case another decapod was coming her way."You use a napkin because the shrimp might have a contact poison on it," Odette rolled her eyes. "Buffy used a fork to flip it at you. She didn't use her hands, so the possibility existed." Pamela gave Odette an 'atta girl' high five."Prince Cáel?" Brooke giggled. "What have you been up to?""Okay. I got this. Ladies, may I introduce Annikki, Belgin, Berit, Flannery, Gizi, Ilkay, Kato, Neve, Nuray, Oili, Pirkko and Zsuzsi. These fine women have decided to put their productive lives on hold so they can be my bodyguards," I made the introductions."They have volunteered to be, basically the 'Hounds of Prince O'Shea/Nyilas/Archer'. My Hounds, please let me introduce Hana, my fiancée, Brooke, my close friend, Libra, a sweet & sincere childhood acquaintance, my Mother, Sibeal, my O'Shea aunts, Deidre & Imogen and Kalmarasērmi Buffy."Despite the absurdity of the situation and my clear irresponsibility, Buffy let a smile crease her frown. 'Kalmarasērmi' was my term for her in the Amazon language = my Mountaintop."I will volunteer my facilities to train them," Aunt Imogen offered me drolly. She was the primary trainer for all O'Shea guardians/Special Forces."Train us?" a half dozen voices murmured."Yes Child. I am Imogen O'Shea, Cáel is the greatest treasure in my life and I have serious doubts any of you can be anything more than distracting bullet-catchers for my favorite (and only) nephew. It annoys me to think you are yet another walking advertisement showing him to be both big-hearted and soft-headed.""I will offer prayers upon the mounds of my ancestors (lie, her only 'ancestor' refused to stay buried) for Cáel's safety. You should invoke whatever supernatural entity you place faith in to keep Cáel safe as well, because if he gets so much as a scratch defending any one of you, I will exercise my nearly endless knowledge of human pain to make you pay.""Is she Ms. Dubois?" Flannery asked Odette."That would be me," Buffy showered fury their way."Do you really want to kill us?" Neve tried to stare Buffy down."Until ten seconds ago, Yes. Now I want to hand you over to these two," she motioned to Deidre and Imogen with her fork."Prince Cáel, why are they all so hostile?" Flannery requested understanding from me. "We have come here to help you. We have skills. All we are asking if for a chance to prove ourselves to you.""To Us," Buffy snapped. "Cáel's vote doesn't count.""Chill, Buffy," I snapped back. "I'm dealing with this, and your lack of trust is pissing me off.""Buffy," Hana intervened. She placed a hand on Buffy's thigh out of sight, yet not outside of my notice. "When was the last time Cáel failed to take your advice on something life-critical? These young ladies appear to be honest and diligent. If not, Pamela and the Color Sergeant wouldn't have let them come here, or near Odette."If I dated dumber women I would have less explaining (lying) to do, but I'd miss the challenge both inside and outside the bedroom. Hana's deft touch and gentle words calmed Buffy more than anything (outside of a righteous cocking) I could have accomplished. I was suddenly seized with the realization there was a goodly number of Katrina's positive attributes in Hana. How had I missed it?"Marrying you is going to be Hana's first step toward mortal beatification," Brooke teased me. Normally only dead people were made saints."A Servant of, probably not Jehovah. I think everyone at the table can agree she has interacted with supernatural forces," Sibeal hid her joking well."Martyring her hopes of monogamy?" Deidre's fey gaze flickered over the women of note (the women at the main table)."Her Heroic Virtue is Prudence?" Buffy added. Buffy had been Catholic?"Ladies, I'm Lutheran. We don't normally venerate saints. Joking aside, I was given a reason to believe this lunch date was important on a social level between myself and my fianc . Food would be nice too."Brooke and Libra's presence regulated Pamela and Chaz to an adjacent table. A waiter slipped in, took my order, I decided to forgo an appetizer because I was late, then the conversation began."Hana, this is my Mother, Sibeal Nyilas. Imogen and Deidre are my family from Ireland," I made the introductions, most definitely unnecessarily. I was buying time to get a better read on the women around me."I know," Hana showered me with mature compassion."Get to it, damn you," Buffy huffed."Wow, I'm thinking of the best way to tell you this," I barely could meet Hana's eyes."I am pregnant with your fianc 's child," Imogen cut to the chase. What she said was delivered on purpose. Imogen wasn't as socially maladjusted as Rachel. The fewer women in my life, the easier the O'Shea would have roping me in. Imogen's words were meant to hurt Hana and drive a wedge between us."You too?" Hana's sad eyes studied Imogen. She hid her anger-disappointment-disgust well. In this crowd her efforts to obfuscate her feeling only worked on Libra and Brooke. Those two ladies were less astute at concealing their surprise."She's your aunt, right?" Libra's look settled on me instead of a blatant Imogen, or a pained Hana."No," Mom answered for me. "My sisters and I were born sterile. It is impossible that our paternal heritage has been passed along. Whatever Imogen's maternal contribution was, it is not from our DNA. My sister does have a child inside her, Havenstone verified it and will have the precise genetic make-up within 24 hours," she persisted (lying)."If Cáel has a failing, it is that he was seduced by my sisters who played upon his very confusing Mother-Son relationship. I faked my death when he was seven. I 'died' in a quite painful manner and he had to watch helplessly as he witnessed me wasting away. I did such a horrible thing to a young boy because the people who were hunting me down, the two O'Shea before you and the nine who aren't here, would have used numerous means of torture to verify my death."(Until they realized 'what' I was. Then my imprisonment would have begun)"My wonderful husband would have died without giving them the truth. It was too much to ask of our son. For fifteen years he believed me dead. He learned the truth at his Father's funeral. I believe every woman at this table knows my son doesn't handle emotional pain well.""Imogen's statement was a thinly-veiled stab at Hana's heart and a kick to my son's sense of responsibility to both Hana and his unborn child. How could this not hurt Hana? How could Cáel possibly respond, torn between the woman who has already sacrificed so much of her happiness for a man barely aware of his own maturity, and the woman bringing his child into the world?""Good one, Imogen. Those two are better than you, or I. By all means, make a mockery of my son, your nephew, who has pledged to fight for your life when he should clearly walk away and let the rest of you die. He asks nothing of you yet you feel no remorse at sullying his happiness.""There are ten good reasons for you getting up and walking out of here intact right now. There are six better reasons for making you pay for your cruelty," she threatened."Ten?" Brooke whispered."The sisters' five bodyguards, the two body guards they gifted me with, Deidre, Imogen and Cáel. You don't think he would let the woman bearing his child take a beating, do you Brooke?" Hana enlightened her."No.""The Six?" Libra scanned the room."My other two bodyguards won't act unless I am directly threatened. They won't be out to hurt anyone. If anyone tries to hurt me, they will jump straight to the making them dead option. The 'Six' are Buffy, Pamela, Chaz, Juanita, Special Agent Maddox and Sibeal.""We'd help," Libra insisted. Brooke was onboard with that proclamation."No," came forth from Hana, Mom and me."Brooke and Libra; you two, Odette, the other twelve and the wait staff will only confuse the issue. My sisters and their soldiers will use you and the rest to distract Cáel. Except for Ms. Maddox, the rest won't give a fuck so your best bet is to hit the deck and let the professionals deal with things," Mom clarified."Brooke, Libra, this is a wacko chicks with guns moment," I put things in perspective."Hana?" Libra put a hand on Hana's shoulder."Don't mind me," she patted Libra's hand. "I'm diving for cover and not getting up until you, Brooke, Cáel, or Buffy tell me to get up. Sorry Sibeal, but I don't know you that well yet.""I understand," Mom agreed.To punctuate the awkwardness of the moment, Aisha (the Arabic swimsuit model) and three other SD ladies waltzed into the place and took a table. When the maytre dee tried to impede them, Aisha threatened to exterminate his entire extended family with a look alone. Been there, done that, and the maytre dee was nowhere close to being in my league.I had to think that through. Had Buffy called them, the SD would have been here before I arrived. Pamela was a possibility, except the SD still hated her over Constanza's maiming. If she told them my life 'was' in danger, they would still show up. My life wasn't in danger and Pamela wouldn't yank their chain.It had to be Juanita. The head of my bodyguard telling Elsa that I was in an exposed position with 9 armed Illuminati would have elicited this level of response. Pamela prodded Odette. Odette had a 'what do you want me to do' non-verbal exchange with Pamela then got up and went over to Aisha.Odette even remembered to navigate the room in such a manner Aisha and her team could keep an uninterrupted view of the threat. Pamela and Chaz's lessons were paying off. They weren't training her in the lethal arts. They were showing her how to not be an obstacle, which was better, given our current circumstances."Hana, don't hate Imogen. The only parent she's ever known was Granddad," I returned my attention to the crisis at hand."Oh, I'm sorry," Hana sent sympathetic waves Imogen's way. If there was a hint of 'you bitch' hidden within those words, none of us would admit it."Yes, yes," Imogen smiled back. "Father was a real troll.""That's not true," Hana responded. "I've met him and he has always been very nice to me. It was easy for me to look past the nations of dead he's murdered, his propensity to rape his daughters and his plans to destroy my Cáel.""I don't hold you to blame for not protecting Cáel more than you have. He's a handful and reminds you of your Father, the mass-murdering rapist. And Imogen, don't try to hurt Cáel using me again, you Bitch. I'm not a part of your circus. That doesn't render me powerless. I love more than I hate. I count a person great by the lives they save, not those they take. Where there is Valor, there is Hope and my fianc  has both in spades. Do we understand one another?""Proving you are smarter than Ms. Sievert is not something which equates to being a threat," Deidre countered."Cáel, why aren't you saying something?" Brooke whispered to me."Because he knows better," Mom grinned. "This is a battle Hana has to win, or lose, on her own.""Cáel has plenty of women willing to go behind his back and kill people, Brooke. Now, if Hana asks for such a favor, we know it is not over some petty bullshit," rolled menacingly forth from Buffy as her feral countenance made a few of the Illuminati at the next table nervous."That won't be necessary," I broke up the tension. "We are as dysfunctional a family as they come, but we are family and we will all treat one another as such by the standards of the only one who matters. Clear?""You?" Deidre soothed me."No. Ferko Nyilas', my Father and the best man I've ever known. He taught me to never make excuses for your own behavior. Surrendering our control over our lives is a cop-out. If you want to continue acting like the creepy-ass bitch daughters of Cáel O'Shea, so be it. That is your choice to make. I care for you.""I care enough for you to fight Granddad over your futures. I hope all of you know I mean what I say. Whatever you decide to do, no matter how you act, I will always love you. I've made my choices and I am going to hold you responsible for yours. Let's eat lunch. It has been a rough fucking day and it isn't over yet."If there was ever any doubt, I destroyed those twelve hopeful bodyguards on the mats. They possessed neither the skill nor the savagery necessary in a warrior culture. We Amazons didn't recoil from pain. Our sisters' lives were on the line. That was why you practiced no-holds-barred fighting with, or without, weapons."We can learn," the lead Finn protested. The rest were getting over the physical and spiritual pain of being so easily beaten."My normal bodyguards go through three years of intense 24/7 training. Being a member of that elite body means you train in all forms of weapons as well as hand-to-hand combat techniques.""Once you've mastered the core physical and skill baseline requirements, and this core training never stops, no point is considered 'good enough', you begin learning at least two specialties. Those are disciplines such as close-protection, sniping, small unit tactics, infiltration, battlefield medicine, electronics, computing, communication systems, linguistics and 'training' expertise.""In my current team, the ones who fought at my side in Hungry and Romania, all have three specialties. Discounting their regimen since the age of five, each had been on the job in a professional capacity at least six years. The leader had eleven years in.""Finally, when you are at that level of excellence, you need a specific mindset. What you need to do is think why you shouldn't kill someone, not if you should. If there is any doubt, you strike. If you hesitate, someone close to you might be killed, not just me.""Look around you. If you aren't ready to kill for any of your companions, you will never cut it. Now, I'm going to have you shown out. I will have taxis take you back to your hotel. Think about it. Seriously, think about dedicating yourself to more than some stranger you've met on the internet.""You will be dedicating yourself to the other elven women in your group, to the death. That is the level of spiritual dedication it takes to be at my side. Go, take a rest, talk it over, search your souls. Call me if any of you want to continue and we can have lunch Sunday and make plans. Questions?""Do the other women around you do this, make those choices?" one of the Turkish women frowned while nursing a bruised jaw."No. They have it worse. They have thrown their old lives away, never to return. Each and every one has either murdered a human being, or attempted to, before they are even considered for the task.""Under normal circumstances, we wouldn't be having his conversation. You would never be given the chance. You are woefully unqualified in every way except spirit. Your willingness to cross the Atlantic to make your offers resonates with me, so I am both warning you this is horrible, horrible path you are taking and I am explaining precisely how slender any of your chances are of accomplishing your goals.""I, I don't know," whispered one of the Hungarian lasses."At the Seven Skulls, I led three such women into combat (Rachel, Charlotte and Saku) against a group of warriors who were fighting free of 500 elite Romanian Mountain Troops. Of the Romanians, nearly 200 were either dead, or wounded. The FBI Special Agent we took with us was badly wounded."One of the three was killed, a head shot, and the remainder left her body where she had fallen because the enemy were still out there and they had to protect me. The world will not bend to your sensitivities. Life around me is exceedingly dangerous and unforgiving," I finished.No immediate consensus united them. Fear and disbelief were the major vibes I was picking up. None of them were angry, insulted, or overly terrified."Time for you to go," Buffy concluded our meeting. "Tigger Maeve and Dora Farānak, would you please see Cáel's guests to the lobby." A new pleasure of Buffy's was using the House names of the Full-bloods she interacted with.I have taken a few mystic liberties:Maeve was a Celtic War Goddess ~ the Enslaver of Men.Farānak was a Scythian Goddess also known as the Lynx Goddess and the Silent Huntress.As for the other new hires:Daphne was, as explained earlier, of House Cotyttia (Thracian Goddess of Sex, War and Slaughter)Fabiola was of House Minerva (Roman Goddess of War & Strategy)Violet Maza was in House Oshun, the Yoruba Goddess of Love, Sexuality, Beauty and Diplomacy; Lady of the Orisha ~ life spirits.Paula Wadena was of House Cybele (Phrygian Earth Mother, Guardian of the Lion Throne)}They were dismissed and smart enough to know that was the best possible answer to their current predicament, learning your romantic adventure was actually a gory supernatural battle for survival. A growing number of Isharans had been gathering while I dealt with the wannabes. A few were amused, perhaps even understanding, of my actions.Soon enough, using her position as Record Keeper of House Ishara, Helena cajoled the other Amazons into giving us peace and quiet. Not all left. Watching a jury-rigged House Ishara work through its business in a semi-public setting was an event both unlooked for and possibly enlightening.For this gathering, we had 122 of the 159 members. The missing members were not close enough, or were providing a critical function that wouldn't allow them to be in New York on this night."Sisters, a moment of personal prayer for each of us to seek guidance from our Ancestors as we seek to continue their legacy," I intoned softly, calling the meeting to order.I had barely opened my eyes, failing to get any inspiration from Yakko, when the struggle began."Why are we including them in a House Ishara meeting?" Madori pointed out the three 'new hires' who were sticking around."Memasant (Amazon for to speak true)," I answered her. Since Daphne, Paula and Violet had clearly been sitting among us before the meeting began, I gave Buffy a disappointing frown. "Ishara respects these three for teaching the rest of you the Amazon language so that we can teach it to others, thus all of you becoming able to engage all our sisters in our native tongue.""I doubt any other House would extend this honor to others. Thankfully, we are not like any other House. We know better. We have all been outsiders. We aren't a 'normal' House and I am working toward us never being one. We have to be kind and just when necessary, and forgive when it is what the Host needs.""We will do this because we Isharans alone will decide on the prestige of our sisters. If the other Houses make an issue of it, who cares? None of them have made the sacrifices necessary to be Isharans. I know that you have not all gathered here tonight to hear me pontificate. Who wants to be first?""Will you accept a challenge?" Madori stood up. We had spread out in a ring, two Amazons deep, along the edges of the mats. I had never sat down."Put forth your complaint," I responded."You emphasize duties other than that of a House Head. You don't take the time to show up at initiation ceremonies. In essence, you ignore your sisters to advance your own prestige.""Yes, I am not showing up at the initiation ceremonies.""Yes, I prioritize other activities over running the day-to-day operations of our House.""Yes, you are utterly ignoring the two Amazons sitting at either side of me. I chose Buffy Ishara and Helena Ishara to lead this House because I knew I would have others issues coming up in my life concerning the Host.""Buffy, are you challenging me?""No, Wakko Ishara," she responded angrily. She wasn't angry with me. She had chosen the majority of the assembly and they were turning on me, thus her."Helena, are you challenging me?""No Wakko Ishara. I am intimately familiar with your work and the dangers you constantly confront for the greater Host," she answered in an equally hostile tone."Now that the issue of relevance has been dealt with, I will accept any challenge from any of you selfish, bigoted, power-hungry cunts who wish to put your own self-interest above that of our House. By all means, stumble over one another for the top spot," I mocked them. I'd played nice. No more.It was telling that my classification of any challenger was completely ignored. Madori and five supporters stood. In theory, challenges were the rare 1-on-1 Amazon experience. Another Amazon, Arianne, stood with another supporter."Cool beans," I nodded.I backed up, stepped off the mats and picked up the four axes I had pre-prepared. Back on the mat I went past my handful of supporters, brandished two weapons and advanced a quarter way onto the sparring area. The mass of my opponents muttered in confusion and resentment."Ishara, we have not trained in archaic weapons. Most of our facilities never had then," Madori protested."Amazons don't play fair," I glared. Several migrated to the walls to pick out whatever looked the least daunting. Buffy, Helena, Marsha, Daphne Cotyttia, Violet Oshun and Paula Cybele did likewise."Is this how you want to answer a challenge for leadership?" Madori glowered. "Cheating, utilizing a clear advantage in a farce of equality and justice?""No. Please step back and call every member of JIKIT," my eyes narrowed. "How about this, call the Amazon's contact with the Earth & Sky? Can't do that either? How about convince the 9 Clans to help us pursue a House obligation?""You duties as Chief Diplomat are not that of Isharan House Head and actually make you less of a House Head," she countered. She had chosen a short spear, using it two-handed. And that made Katrina what precisely?"I should fucking kill you," Buffy snarled."Madori Ishara, Dot-Ishara is not the Goddess of Scrabble. She is not the Goddess of," and Madori tried to catch me flat-footed with a spear-thrust. I was appalled at how easy I dealt with her. My right axe diverted her spear enough so when I twisted my stance, she missed. I placed the head of my left axe on her shoulder, blade against her throat."Madori, you lose. Sit back down and contemplate that you were beaten by a 22 year old man," I seethed. There was no 'you didn't give me a chance' bullshit. She had struggled for advancement in the Amazon way. Such people weren't crybabies. "Next."Arianne approached me with a shield and short sword. My read on the situation was she was going to use acrobatics to compensate for my superior reach. I readied myself."I don't suppose you would accept a suggestion we fight unarmed?" she put out there. I took two steps toward her then dropped my axes."I trust you," I looked down at her. I could see the 'oh, fuck me' written all over her face. The unfairness had been tossed in her lap. She put the point of her leaf-shaped blade under the left side of my ribcage, close to my kidney."Yield.""Never.""Yield, or I will kill you."I took a quarter-inch penetration when I clamped down on her right wrist and slammed my elbow into her face. A quick exchange of footwork ended up with both of us on the mat, Arianne on her back, sword pinned to the mat and her shield trapped between us. Head-butt followed head-butt until she was unresponsive.I stood up, blood oozing down my side."Water!" I barked. A bottled water was rolled my way. Three more Amazons were sizing me up. This challenge phase was far from over. I splashed water down on Arianne's face until she sputtered into wakefulness."Pathetic," I sneered at her. "This House is worth any and all of our lives. If you were the best candidate to lead this house and I refused to yield, then why did you spare me? Not only could you not kill me when you clearly could, you failed to do so even when it became an unequal contest of arms."Arianne was shamed and furious. I was treating her like a presumptuous, outsider woman."I'm feeling particularly generous in victory, Arianne, don't you dare stand up," I growled when she tried. "I will not kill you for your disrespect. I will not exile you from our House because doing so would show both of us failing to grasp one of the key principles of our People, learn. Learn and keep learning. A loss is nothing more than a temporary setback. Learn, don't repeat the same mistake twice and never stop striving for success until you take yourself to the cliffs."One of the two newes

In Part 1 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast Beezy and Granddad talk about the creation of the very first workers union in North America for the video game industry and the potential impact it could bring. They also give their thoughts on the return of Game Informer after being shut down almost two years ago, the WB Games kart racer that could've been, the latest update on the release plans for Switch 2 and finally a look back at 20 years of God of War. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

All the kids had been raised and the youngest grandkid was starting school, it was time for a new chapter for Emma Belle. The next big step required a high school diploma and a driver's license, two things she didn't have. What she did have was a lot of grit and determination...throw in a used Nash Rambler and the rest was history!   The story of Mack and Emma Belle's sudden wedding!: Keeper of the Stories -  https://withinpodcast.com/2018/11/23/keeper-of-the-stories/   SUPPORT INDEPENDENT ARTIST! Episode archive, news and more! Check out all we have to offer at withinpodcast.com! Want to advertise, sponsor or otherwise support Within The Realm? Visit with us at contact@withinpodcast.com or Support Within The Realm  Our wonderful sponsors!: jandjpoolsafety@gmail.com katchakid.com Katchakid has a 100% safety rating and have maintained that for over 50 years. That's a lot of safety and plenty of peace of mind when it comes to your pool and your family. Music: The Right Direction by Shane Ivers Martin Mountain Coffee: Small Batch Roaster for an Artisan Cup of Coffee! Check out Martin Mountain Coffee's signature Within The Realm Blend "Story Teller's Roast!" We won't be mad if you try the other great blends and roasts! Better yet, try a sample pack! It's better on the Mountain! Contact Us! Facebook: @withintherealm1 Instagram: within_the_realm contact@withinpodcast.com Now on Bluesky! https://bsky.app/profile/sfg64.bsky.social   Within The Realm is a fiercly Independent podcast written and produced by Steve Garrett for the enjoyment of the curious soul. WTR intro: Sweat Shirt (S. Garrett) WTR outro: Baby Boy (S. Garrett) Available for speaking engagements! Check out the website for details. withinpodcast.com Want to advertise, sponsor or otherwise support Within The Realm? Visit with us at contact@withinpodcast.com or Support Within The Realm  And as always, Thanks for listening!

In Part 2 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad extended Mar10 Day in to Mario month by doing a Greatest Mario Games of All Time Bracket. Some upsets definitely occur but a deserving winner is crowned. They then end the show with their live Q&A. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Part 1 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast Beezy and Granddad are back together again and they're all about the new trailer of the 2nd season of The Last of Us coming this April. They also discuss the sudden exit of WB Games chief David Haddad after a string of L's that have WB not looking so good. They also talk about the return of the OG game publisher Acclaim and what they hope they will bring back as well as go over the sales from the recent Mar10 Day. The trailer for the final DLC in MK1, T-1000 has dropped and he will be here this month. They lastly talk about the leaks of a new Xbox handheld and hardware that's possibly in the works withing the next couple of years. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Send us a textTwo great standup comics...Jack Mayberry and Jay Leno share some very funny comedy material, recorded live on stage. Jack talks about getting lost and traveling with his Grandpa, and Jay shares some funny material about flying...so sort of a "Travel" episode...Ha!Jack Mayberry and Jay Leno are two stand-up comedians who have made significant contributions to the world of comedy with their distinct styles and perspectives. Jack Mayberry, hailing from Lubbock, Texas, is known for his storytelling and observational humor that often incorporates personal anecdotes and social commentary, engaging audiences with topics like politics and the absurdity of capital punishment. In contrast, Jay Leno, with over four decades of experience, has charmed audiences with his witty takes on everyday life and current events, gaining fame as the host of The Tonight Show and for his collaboration with R. Scott Edwards on stage shows. Together, Mayberry's dark humor and social insights combined with Leno's classic wit and observational comedy create a dynamic and engaging experience for comedy fans, each offering their unique lens on the world around us.Please Listen, Laugh, and Share!(00:01:35) Navigational Misadventures with Jack Mayberry(00:03:46) "Granddad's Driveway Reminiscences: A Family Comedy"(00:09:03) Southern Charm vs Quick Wit: Stand-up Duos(00:14:53) "Jay Leno's Comedic Take on Marketing"Support the showStandup Comedy Podcast Network.co www.StandupComedyPodcastNetwork.comFree APP on all Apple & Android phones....check it out, podcast, jokes, blogs, and More!For short-form standup comedy sets, listen to: "Comedy Appeteasers" , available on all platforms.New YouTube site: https://www.youtube.com/@standupcomedyyourhostandmc/videosVideos of comics live on stage from back in the day.Please Write a Review: in-depth walk-through for leaving a review.Interested in Standup Comedy? Check out my books on Amazon..."20 Questions Answered about Being a Standup Comic""Be a Standup Comic...or just look like one"

After Romania, one night in Rome.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.When our ancestor committed the first murder, was it rage, or fear that drove them to the deed?(Evening near the Metropole, Roma, Italia)"I think you've done well," Riki congratulated me as she terminated her phone call. Word had come down that her replacement was on the way. Our profile had been updated back at State and they clearly wanted to bring in the 'real professionals'. There also had been a miscommunication. I was far too stressed to be reasonable now.Some undeserving smuck was about to be at the receiving end of my wrath for no better reason than I was at my limit of accepting any further alterations to my life. In hindsight, I was being totally irrational. At that moment in time, I didn't care whose day I was ruining. Sometimes I can be a jerk and an idiot at the same time.The US State Department apparently thought I couldn't dictate who was, or wasn't, a member of 'Unit L', we now had our own designation within Javiera's expanding task-force. The government had a random name generator for this shit and we got the letter 'L'. Maybe that device didn't think we were going to last long enough to matter. Anyway, I took the phone and hit redial. Riki gave me an 'I'm puzzled' look."Who am I talking to?" I inquired."Ms, who are you?" he demanded, since my caller ID said Riki and, unless I used my high, squeaky voice, I obviously sounded like a guy."I'm Cáel Nyilas. Who is this?" I replied."I'm Bill A. Miller, Director of the U.S. Diplomatic Security Service. What seems to be the problem, Mr. Nyilas?" He was rather uptight about the call-back."Since we are working together, why don't you call me Cáel?" I politely requested. "I'll call you Willy.""My name is Bill, but you can call me Director Miller," he corrected me. "The reason for your call is?""It is Willy, or Dick; your choice," I countered. "I don't call my boss 'Director' and I worship the ground she walks on. You are not even in her league. Also, I've had bad experiences with guys named Bill which are too painful to explain right now."That was true. One was friend taking a shower and leaving me alone with his mother. The other was early on in my career when I confused a girl named Bonnie with her real name 'Bill'. I was my own personal 'The Crying Game'. I didn't handle that episode well."Besides, I didn't call to discuss name-calling. I want to know how many agents work for you.""What does that have to do with anything?" he grumbled."You are quick with the questions while painfully bereft of answers," I snorted. "Don't make me Google this too.""Over two thousand," he stopped being a total ass. "Is there anything else I can tell you that Miss Martin should have been able to tell you?" Ooops, Back to being an ass."Riki's being physically restrained from taking her phone back by some of my educationally-challenged, illegal alien, unskilled labor force of questionable loyalty," I outrageously lied. It was an odious habit of mine that I'd cultivated vigorously over the past few weeks. "Two thousand humans, thanks. Is Riki's replacement a guy, or a girl? Wait, who cares? Just send their picture and I'll let you know where to send their replacement.""Are you threatening my people?" he simmered."No. That would make me an uncooperative and nefarious nuisance," I evaded. "Of course, when a person sticks their hand into a functioning garbage disposal, you don't blame the device. You blame the moron who stuck their hand in." From the perspective of our relationship, I was the garbage disposal."That definitely sounds like a threat," he responded. He was going to stick his hand in anyway."Your inability to comprehend the nuances possible with the English language is not why I called and not something I feel I can educate you about, given my current time constraints. Just have one of your insipid flunkies send me the picture. I need to purchase duct tape and an out-of-the-way storage space," I informed him."By the way, in the spirit of legal chicanery, could you tell me how long it will take for Riki Martin's name to come back up in the rotation? Let's figure 36 hours between each hot-shot leaving DC and their eventual inability to return phone calls," I wanted to make sure he knew I was taunting his pompous self. (Me being pompous and unhelpful didn't cross my mind at that moment.)"Let me make myself clear, Mr. Nyilas," he repeated. "Not only can you not dictate terms to the US government, you are not even the team's designated leader." I wasn't? Fuck him. I had tons of useless members of the Alphabet Mafia in front of my name, all loudly proclaiming my numerous accolades.Of everyone on the team, I had the most: NOHIO (Number One House Ishara Official), HCIESI-NDI, (Havenstone Commercial Investments Executive Services' Intern -- New Directive Initiative, I didn't make that one up, I swear), MEH (Magyarorszag es Erdely Hercege) and UHAUL (Unpaid Honcho Assigned to Unit L). I liked that last one, so that was how I was going to sign off on all my reports now."First off, I AM in charge, Willy. Without me, there is no Unit L. I quit, and then what? In case you missed it, I can't be drafted or threatened by you. If you think you can replace me, please do so right now and let me get back to my life -- you know, the thing that actually puts money in my pocket.Besides, I am not refusing to take anyone you see fit to put on MY team. I'm just not going to tell you where I'm going to take them to. I suspect they are adults and can find their way home, eventually, Willy.""Mr. Nyilas, you are an unbelievably fortunate amateur and novice intellectual in a situation that demands experience and professionalism. It is time for you to step back and let the people who know what they are doing take over. Just play your part and we'll make sure you get due credit for following orders and behaving," he unleashed his fair-smelling bile."I am following your orders; your procedures dictate that a member of the State Department will be on this team," I kept my calm. "As one of the people who actually has experience with this situation, I'm letting you know how things work in the field. Every person you send will be misplaced, thus you will have to send someone else. Alerting you to the need to stay on top of your job -- sending someone else -- sounds to me like common sense advice in this circumstance.""That is not going to happen, Nyilas. If something happens, " he got out."Willy, duct tape is plentiful and cheap. Kidnapping -- thus hostage keeping -- is virtually a religion in Southern Italy. And though I am already wired into the local criminal underground, I'm just not going to be able to help you, or them. I'll make up some implausible excuses as the need arises. So now you know the score. The next move is yours," I smiled."The next words out of your mouth had better be 'I'll behave', or the State Department will revoke your passport and have stern words with the Republic of Ireland over your diplomatic status," Willy warned me."I'll behave," I fibbed. Riki snatched the phone out of my hand."Sir -- Director Miller, I want you to know I had nothing to do with Mr. Nyilas' tirade," Riki apologized. "He stole my phone.""I did." and "oww!" I hollered in the background. "She ground her heel into my instep. the fiery little minx." I was propping up her excuse because I owed her for verbally taking a dump on her boss, the ass-heap back in Romania. Riki punched me."Ms. Martin, do we need to reconsider your employment, or can we rely on you to re-organize Unit L before Ms. McCauley (her replacement) arrives?" Willy lectured."Director Miller, ""Call him Big Willy," I whispered to her. "He loves that 'Big Willy' style."This time she hit me in the thigh. My ballistic vest had gotten in the way of her first hit, but she was a quick learner."How can you know a song from 1997, yet not know that Russia invaded Georgia in 2008?" Riki put her hand over the phone and hissed at me."Ah," Pamela teased. "Somebody is a Will Smith fan." Riki looked away.I wasn't sure what to make of the Will Smith -- Ricky Martin combo forming in my mind. Will was one of my manly icons. Hey, he was a stud, scored numerous hotties in his film career and married Jada Pinkett Smith. What's not to love? Growing up, I wanted to be like Will Smith. When/if I ever finished growing up, I wanted to be like George Clooney."Director Miller," Riki tried again. "He's lying. From my personal observations and with supporting personality profiles provided by other members of the task force, I can guarantee you that Mr. Nyilas is unreliable and untrustworthy. Sir, I've watched Romani males hide their wallets and their daughters when he walks by." Okay, wasn't that last bit a lie?"that last bit a lie?es hide their wallets and their daughters when he walks by. provided by other members However, unless she has been cross-trained as a waitress at a gang-affiliated nightclub, a day-care worker for the criminally insane, plus consistently wins at Texas hold 'em, she's going to be out of her element here.""No sir, but Mr. Nyilas likes me, I'm not sure why," she glared at me. I poked her in the boob to help clarify the matter. Riki slapped my hand. Virginia punched me in the shoulder. I decided to poke Virginia in her ballistic-covered breast, hoping she was jealous for the attention. I was wrong. They both hit me again.Had this been sexual harassment, they would have hated this job and despised me. Since this was me being my painfully childish self, well, I was still annoying, but also adorable. Put it this way: if a woman could not only pepper spray a man making cat-calls at her, and was even encouraged to do so, wouldn't that de-stress the situation?"Director Miller, I don't want to stay on this assignment, yet I'd be remiss if I didn't explain some of the numerous pitfalls of working with Unit L. Every one of them is comfortable being a walking arsenal. I'm on my way to have a ballistic vest tailored for me because I'm the only one in the unit without one. I have no doubt that any of them could kill me with their bare hands in less than 5 seconds if they so desired," she explained."You would think they would want a more effective combatant with them," Miller grew icy, suspecting duplicity on Riki's part -- moron. She looked at me over the phone."Sir, I think they like me because I know I don't belong in a firefight. They can count on me to cower behind cover while the bullets are flying. That allows the rest to kill unimpeded by having to keep an eye on me," she said.Pause."One of them did show me how to recognize and start various grenades. She said if I was ever the last one alive, it would give me 'options'."Pause."Ms. Martin, don't cancel your flight back to DC yet. I'm going to give Ms. Castello a call to see what her assessment of the situation is," Willy allowed. "Good-bye.""I can't believe I talked him into making me stay with you people," Riki moaned.Our little caravan was slowing to a stop outside the Metropole Hotel. It was Hana's choice for a Roman meeting location. A restaurant and a hotel room, all in one location. Rachel and Wiesława were ahead of us, checking things out. Hana had informed us that the Illuminati had two people watching her. This was going to be my last bit of time with Rachel for a while.(Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch, )Two new members of House Ishara were on their way to Rome. They'd be joined by two members of the House Guard of Andraste from Britain. The two Isharans were the first members of the House Guard of Ishara in over a thousand years. I didn't expect them to be the martial equals of Rachel, or Charlotte. Not yet. And anyway, that didn't matter. What mattered to me was that they'd volunteered for the task and Buffy felt they were the best we had.Another nomadic pack of House Hylonome Amazons had taken in the traumatized Zola. She had to stay in Romanian until the authorities finished up her part of the investigation. A mixed group from House Živa and Ishara (led by Helena) would handle security for Professor Loma, his family and the Lovasz sisters during their trip to New York.Aliz, his wife, was officially in House Ishara's custody. That was my best play at making sure she avoided summary justice for her 'betrayal' of House Hylonome. The whole group would be handed over to House Epona as soon as the Romanians cleared them for foreign travel. It helped my case that Aliz appreciated my warnings about the danger that both families were in from House Illuyankamunus.The occult nitpicking that allowed me to leverage this maneuver was accomplished by me doing yet another rarely done feat. In the name of Alkonyka Lovasz, House Ishara was sponsoring a new Amazon house. I could testify to the existence and matronage of the Goddess SzélAnya (without her permission), which was one of the stepping stones for acceptance.Vincent was going to stay in Germany for two days, then he was off to his home and daughters in Arlington Virginia, with a long convalescence and a rumored promotion. Mona and Tiger Lily were already on their way to New York as honor guard for Charlotte's body, courtesy of the US Air Force. The Amazons needed the USAF to do it because that was the only way we could get the Romanians to release her body.The Hylonome dead, they would be buried in a private plot after all the autopsies were done. I was absolutely sure the Hylonome would steal the bodies in due time and give them a 'proper' burial. Of the Mycenaeans, Red and one of his buddies still remained at large. Of Ajax's half-brother, Teucer, and the other previously wounded Greek warrior, there was no sign. Kwen and the other POWs remained in Romania to face a laundry list of charges. Her fate was unknown to me.My bodyguard was reduced, yet no one minded. The twin reasoning was that the Black Hand in Italy would provide some protection for me. The other was that I was in the birthplace of the Condottieri. Selena's sources strongly suspected that their HQ was close to Rome itself. I could have had more security by recruiting among the 'natives'.Various sources, some inside Italy, had suggested that the Carabinieri, Italy's military police force, had 'offered' to provide some protection. That was prompted by events surrounding my visits to Budapest  and  Mindszent, Hungary and the 'action' south of Miercurea Ciuc, Romania (no one wanted to call it a battle, even though the fight involved over 1000 Romanian Land Forces troops and half a squadron of the Romanian Air Force).My refusal of the offer caused a 'disruption'. This was a polite way of saying the Italians did not want me to enter their country. I wasn't being a jerk this time. Selena and Aunt Briana were both of the opinion that the Condo's recruited heavily from European military and paramilitary units -- particularly Western Europe. And that not all their 'new hires' had left active duty either.A peculiar circumstance then developed. The pretext for denying me entry was undercut by Hungary and Romania erasing me from their official investigation. I wasn't a threat (despite the burnt landscape and tombstones sprouting up in my wake.) Romania didn't want me to stay, Hungary decided they didn't want me back -- at the moment -- and the US/UK/Ireland were telling the Italians that I was a peach, or whatever implied that in diplomatic speech.There was a compromise finally reached by Riki and shadow forces that I couldn't put names to. I could come to Italy as long as my itinerary was relayed to Carabinieri. We could keep our side arms in holsters and our big guns as long as they weren't on our persons. I could go around without a Carabinieri bodyguard as long as I ignored them floating around me at a discreet distance. A liaison officer would meet me at the hotel to maintain the illusion that I was just a paranoid tourist.Delilah had to touch base with the British again, probably for the same reasons that the US wanted to replace Riki. While both Delilah and Chaz were military and seconded to MI-6, they weren't considered Intelligence Experts by the people at the helm. For that matter, they weren't even sure how Delilah had ended up at my side, killing multi-national terrorists in three separate countries inside of one month. That was very cinematic, not realistic. The idea of governments with shadow operatives 'sanctioning' people was not something that anyone in the 'know' wanted to talk about.Whether it was before the media, a US Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, the United States House Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence, or a UK Parliamentary Foreign Affairs Select Committee this wasn't what these Department Heads wanted to discuss. Less anyone forget, my Congress and my President didn't, umm, get along.In my favor, I was an orphan from New Hampshire, both my US Senators were women and I'd worked on their campaigns or dated some of their volunteers. It might do me some good to call Dr. Kimberly Geisler at Bolingbrook to see what she could do politically. All that could wait.(Finishing Up)Selena Jovanović had the first of our two dark blue Alfa Romeo 159s, the one that disgorged Rachel and Wiesława. She, Saku and Odette would circle the block in case there was any trouble. Pamela had the driver's seat in my car. No one wanted me or Odette to drive because we didn't understand urban Italian street etiquette. It was Virginia, me and Riki in the backseat with Chaz up front with Pamela.Rachel gave the preliminary order to disembark. That meant the lobby was partially clear -- there were armed types about that seemed to be either Carabinieri, or understandable private security. Rome wasn't as dangerous as Mexico City (kidnap-wise), but events in London, Budapest and the Hungarian and Romanian countryside were putting people on edge. And those with enough money could buy some emotional comfort in the form of armed private contractors.Chaz took his H and K UMP-45, stock folded, out of the bag at his feet and secured it inside the right-side of his jacket. Three spare clips went inside a harness on his left. It was dreamlike as Virginia and I went through a similar, less heavily armed process. For FBI Girl, it was a 'carry-on' with flash-bang, concussion and smoke grenades, plus a few extra clips/mags for everyone.For me, it was a tomahawk, a second Gloc-22 and a bullet for everyone in the hotel, if that became necessary. As the car came to a stop in front of the main doors, I worked my way over Riki so that I would be the second person to exit the car. Chaz would be the first. Virginia got out on her side. Pamela would stay at the wheel -- Riki had an appointment with a tailor to keep.I felt it then, that sympathetic spiritual harmony I was one-third of. I looked up into the 'clear' Rome night. There she was, Bellatrix, the Amazon star in the Constellation of Orion. According to the Egyptian Rite, the Weave of Fate was nearly invisible by day, but by night, you could make out its strands in the motion of the stars. That was not something Alal had ever truly mastered. Still,I had a new phone since the charred remains of my old one were in some evidence locker in Budapest by now. That didn't mean I wanted to use it. I was getting squirrely about people I didn't want finding me, finding me. Chaz was in the lead, I was in the middle and Virginia covered my back. Rachel caught sight of us, gave a quick nod, and then she and Wiesława went for the elevators.Rachel would want to check out Hana's room before I got there -- if I got there. I called Odette."Hey Babe," Odette beamed excitement my way. She was in Rome and we had a guaranteed 24 hour layover. For a girl who thought her great adventure in life was going to end up being a high school trip to Philadelphia to see the Liberty Bell, she was in Nirvana."Hey to you too, Odette. I need a favor," I began."Sure," she chirped."In five minutes from, right now make sure Sakuniyas comes to see me and Hana in the restaurant by herself," I requested. Odette hesitated, taking in her knowledge of 'Cáel-speak'."No problemo Jeffe," she answered. She knew I was in some undefined trouble. We both knew that her body language would convey that unease to Saku, which was what I needed. See, I had a plan. I tapped Chaz, slowing him and thus allowing Virginia to bunch up with us."Do either one of you remember the movie 

In Part 1 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast Beezy is out for the week but Granddad is joined by the infamous DEW crew consisting of Stover, Khr1sh1na & Beans. They discuss Warner Bros. shutting down the open world Wonder Woman game that was in development, the one month early leak of Assassins Creed Shadows and how Ubisoft responded, the layoffs of the Seattle team for Marvel Rivals, trailers for T-1000 in MK1, Anna Williams in Tekken 8 and the Lies of P: Overture DLC. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Companions, History and Heroism.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.There are two distinct phases of falsehood. In the first, you realize you can lie to those closest to you. In the second, you realize you shouldn't.(And the stars continue to shine forth)"Stop trying to save me," Pamela remarked, once she was sure we were alone once more."Ask me to do something I'd at least consider doing," I sighed. "Let's go back to the party, I'm not sure where we are.""You've been walking in one big circle, Dummy," she chided me.Why was she letting me off the hook for walking off with the Grand Villain in the scheme of things? Well, if she started hitting me, she probably wasn't sure she could stop."One of these days I'm going to screw up and not get out of it," I noted sadly."That is the epitaph of anyone who has ever taken up a weapon and a cause," Pamela smiled.Maybe she wasn't angry with me."Why aren't you more pissed off?" I wondered."You are a good guy, Cáel," Pamela enlightened me. "That means you are going to reach out to people you think you can save. Personally, I don't think Alal can be, but then I'm biased.""Guy coming back from the dead?" I inquired."Damn right. No more surefire way to anger an assassin than to come back from the dead," she related. "Did you take note of his body?""Not really. What did I miss?" I requested."It didn't look right," Pamela shook her head. "Nothing more specific than that. I was hoping, since you touched him, you might have picked something else up.""Nope. I was too busy slipping a GPS locator on him," I grinned."You don't have one and the technology doesn't work that way, ya numbskull," she play slapped my left bicep."Wouldn't it be cool if it did?" my grin broadened."Laugh it up, Monkey-boy," Pamela countered. "Buffy would have you tagged like a mule deer in Yellowstone.""Eek," I gasped. "Point taken.""Well, " Pamela huffed."He's going to kill my soul," I observed. "Now I'm sure of it. All of that discussion was just gauging my personality so that when he offs me, he can become Cáel Nyilas / Wakko Ishara." Pause."Good for you," Pamela let go of a tense breath. She didn't have to ask."The whole Condottieri situation is a scam," I passed on that bit of information I'd first put together with the Vizsla. "It never left Granddad's control. Currently he's going to use various other factions to kill off the Condottieri and Illuminati leadership that oppose him, then it is Unity Time.""If he takes your place, that gives him leverage on the Amazon Council plus your appeal to the 9 Clans and the Earth  and  Sky," Pamela helped me work things through. "He couldn't get his hooks into the Egyptians because they knew too much about him. Matters of race stymied his efforts with the Earth  and  Sky and Seven Pillars.""Except I saved Temujin and he's been supplying them with weapons and tech for over fifty years," I told her. "Even when he was dead, his plan was working, he had predicted the path that warfare would take, invested wisely and left orders to implement his plans. When the time came, they were ready to take out the Seven Pillars.""Without you saving Temujin, the E and S wouldn't have cared, but you," Pamela nodded. "If it comes down to his coalition of Illuminati, Condottieri, Amazons and 9 Clans, the Egyptians will join him, Global Unification has been their goal all along," she continued. "Besides, you made one hell of a positive impression on them the only time you've met. Bang up job, Stud.""Temujin will join as well. He's anything but suicidal," I finished the roll call of my fate. We were almost back to the rave by this time. "You know, you could kill me and short-circuit all of this mess," I reminded her."No way. I plan to win, damn it," Pamela patted me on the back. "Save the Dum-sel in Disrepute, slay the Evil Warlord and re-retire with a boatload great-grandbabies to spoil.""I gave the Vizsla a clue," I let Pamela know the possible complications to her plan. "In 1847, one General of the Condottieri tried to have the Italian Black Hand kill another. Unfortunately, the victim in question was a puppet for Grandpa and the assassin team attacked them both. Because they saw his face, he hunted them back to their base and slaughtered the entire Verona Chapter house of the Wolf.""He must have fucked up a few other times as well," Pamela assured me. Speaking of miscalculations, Anya, Katalin and Orsi broke from the thrashing mob and ran up to me."Your crazy ex-girlfriend called," Anya seemed steamed. "She insisted must she talk to you." At first glance, it would be 'which crazy ex-GF', except only one had Anya's phone number. I took her phone."Bonjour, ma petite amie méchante ," I greeted Anais, the Mountie, in French. Yes, I was calling her a 'meanie'."Cáel, how are you? Where are you?" she was truly concerned. I didn't doubt her sincerity. I also didn't doubt she was convinced she knew what was best for me, as well."I've talked with the Hungarian Police too," I let my pique come through. "You screwed me over. I asked you to let me handled this and you didn't.""You are still a Jerk," she snapped. "I've been trying to help. And from the sounds of it, you are at a party.""It's a rave. It is a rave brought about by the police keeping people penned up in the town all afternoon. Now, if you would stop treating me like a freaking child, you would realize that I'm actually safer in a crowd than I am alone, holed-up in some room without a weapon because you've made it so that the TEK is now keeping a sharp eye on me," I retorted."Can't you tell I'm trying to help you?" she got loud, on the cusp of becoming enraged."Yes. I called you, asking for help. I also called to apologize, without making it sound like some lame stupid stunt to get you back. I'm in real trouble here and I've put other people in danger at the same time," I told her. And yes, I planned to get some 'Anais' when I got back to North America."I'm telling you," she persisted, "let Hungarian law enforcement help you.""I'm trying to make you understand," I countered, "that this is a situation that the police can't help me with. I called you because I believed I could trust you, even though you hate me.""I'm angry with you, Cáel. I don't hate you," she grumbled. "I am trying to help.""If I didn't believe that, I wouldn't still be talking to you, Anais," I allowed. "What did Timothy tell you?""Is that all you care about?" she grumbled."Actually, this is me trying not to be a selfish jackass," I said. "People are in danger because of me and I need to make sure they are safe before I take care of myself.""That's, very unlike you," Anais sounded unsure."I've been doing some growing up since graduation," I replied. "I only wish I'd grown smarter.""I, I'm sorry about your Papa," she quieted down."They gunned him down in his own home," I told her. "Dad never touched a gun in his life and they shot him with an assault rifle.""Oh, well, I understand your Federal Justice Department is investigating the matter," Anais tried to comfort me. "I talked with your Prosecutor Castello. She wouldn't tell me much.""Pity," I mumbled. "I know they are having difficulties.""It is an American problem," she noted."Not really," I sunk in my hooks. "We've been working with MI-6 and the CIA. They are all part of that international task force I told you about {see last chapter}.""Yes, how did you get Irish diplomatic status? That doesn't make any sense," she perked up. Anais liked puzzles. Actually, she liked solving conundrums. It made her a great cop."We are missing the party," Monika protested, in German."That's right. Tell your EX-girlfriend good-bye, Cáel," Anya insisted loudly."Who is that?" Anais groused."It is Anya, the Bulgarian mechanical engineer. We've had sex since you and I last talked and I think she's feeling a tad possessive," I explained.Pause."Bastard," Anais seethed. I was sure her cunt was twitching already. "Fine. I talked with your roommate, he says you have my uniform in a dress bag and my boots in a sealed box, so I forgive you. Anyway, he said Odette called, and she gave him a number to give to you."Since it didn't have 555 in it, I had hopes it was genuine. This was not the time to give Anais the quick kiss-off."I appreciate it, Anais," I sighed with relief. "Have you decided which restaurant you want to go to when I get back?""I haven't given it much thought, Cáel," I could feel her defrosting further. "How can I keep in touch with you?""Ugh, I don't have my own phone right now. Tomorrow I'm going to steal some means of conveyance and, " I grinned."Don't tell me that," Anais complained. "I'm still an officer of the law.""Well, the new 'me' is trying to be more honest with you, Anais. I've got to get out of town tomorrow. Would you rather I lied to you, again?" I confounded her."Well, no. Try to be careful, prends soin de mon amour," she sighed."I will call you as soon as I'm able. Thank you again," I signed off."I still say, 'that one' is confused about her 'ex' status," Orsi teased me."Do you know what is worse than having one woman save your soul?" I tossed out to them. They could not divine an answer. "Having three women do it at the same time, for different reasons. Now I believe we have a party starving for our attention."(Reunions)Pamela had convinced me the motorcycle driver who belonged to our newly acquired BMW K1600 GT would be at least four hours regaining consciousness and getting himself untied. We had stopped at a petrol station along the 431, between Kiszombor, Hungary and the Romanian border. She wanted to fuel up before the border crossing, in case things didn't work out, you know, with our guns and this stolen vehicle.She was already peeved that I'd stopped in Szeged to pick up a few pounds of paprika. Rumor had it that the fields around that stretch of the Tisza produced the highest quality of that spice on the planet, especially the sweet kind. Pamela pointed out I knew 'jack' about cooking. I agreed. What I did know was cooks, the female variety.Fresh spice from the 'source' was way better than a dozen roses, even with a box of chocolates added. Did I have a cook lined up in New York? No, but I was sure I could find one. Wait! Yasmin, my Brazilian, ex-Super Cop, hottie should be back in town by now. If she didn't cook, she'd definitely have a friend I could seduce.Honest to Ishara, I was starting to believe this constant 'work-work-work' was ruining my normally poor judgment where sex and fidelity were concerned.Pamela was getting some lunch for us while I gassed up my crotch-rocket. My luck kept being, exceptional. Two Hungarian motorcycle troopers showed up; both were women and they apparently had decided that I was worthy of attention. Hey, I'm good-looking, and I was wearing a ballistic vest. (The durability of my long coat wasn't so obvious.) "Nice bike," the first one, the one directly confronting me, said. "Thanks. It is a KT1600 GT, 2009," I smiled. "What are you two on?" "Yamaha FJR1300A's," she answered. I put up the nozzle, capped the tank and walked over to her conveyance. It was a really sweet ride. "You have a gun," she noted calmly. She and her partner both had their hands on their holstered weapons. Since the flaps were still down, I wasn't panicking. "Yes. More than one in fact," I kept pretending to look over her bike while I was really scoping her out. I'd nailed all six boat girls and then had the Macedonian babe for breakfast. So I still had three good sexual bangs in me before dusk and these two were nice and pleasant enough. "Do you have permits for those?" she asked. Her partner was calling something in. "Are we still in Hungary?" I mused. The question was a joke. "I believe we are," she smiled. Sure, I may have been a dangerous felon, but I was a nice looking and engaging one."Nope. I'm afraid not," I sighed. She understood my English. "Why are you so armed?" she kept calm. "Are you law enforcement somewhere?" "Does a secretive, non-governmental, paramilitary organization count?" "No," she sighed. "That sounds rather criminal. So, what are you carrying?" That was a nice way of saying 'give me your gun'."Left, right, back, or ankle?" I replied. "Which one do you want first?" "Let's try this again. Can I see some form of ID?" she remained rather comfortable despite this having to be the most bizarre traffic stop of her career."I'm reaching around to my right rear jean pocket for it," I related. Something dating Anais had taught me was that you always tell an on-duty cop what you are doing before you do it.She nodded, so I pulled out my NY Driver's license, my US passport and my Irish Diplomatic ID. She began looking them over. "You are Cáel Nyilas?" she looked over my documents. "If that who it says I am, then yes," I grinned.For a second, she was P-O'ed, then she realized I was playing with her. She snorted in amusement and returned to looking over my stuff.   "Nyilas is a Hungarian name," she hummed. "Székely," I clarified. "My family emigrated to America at the end of World War II. I've actually come back here to look over the homeland." "You couldn't land in Bucharest?" she handed me my ID back. "What?" I feigned an insult to my intellect. "Hungarian women are far prettier.""You don't appear to be Dortmund Schuyler," her partner looked me over.

Good and bad unintended consequences.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.The highest cost of losing a war is the rage of your children."Maybe the Canadian is not so much an 'ex' girlfriend?" Orsi leered. It was the old 'if he is so good that she still wants him back after a colossal screw up, I wanted a taste' expression."Do you think she will help you?" Katalin inquired."She'll help," Pamela huffed playfully. "My grandson has plenty of ex-girlfriends. Most of them want him back, despite his colorful lifestyle. It is one of his more amusing qualities.""Let's get something to eat," I tried to turn the conversation away from my past sexcapades."You are engaged?" Jolan didn't miss a beat."It is complicated," I sighed. "Let's just say I really like her, but she's seven years older, divorced with one young daughter and has a father who hates that I live and breathe.""Do you have any male friends?" Monika joined the Cáel Quiz Bowl."Yes," I replied with confidence. "My roommate Timothy and I are great friends.""He's gay," Pamela pierced their disbelief. "He and Cáel are true brothers-in-arms, I'll give Cáel that much.""Do you have any straight male friends?" Orsi was enjoying taunting me."Do Chaz or Vincent count?" I looked to Pamela."They are straight males, but they don't really know you yet," Pamela failed to be of much help. "I think Vincent insinuated he'd shoot you if you dated any of his three daughters. It was friendly of him to warn you. I supposed that could be construed as liking you.""Are all your acquaintances violent?" Anya seemed worried."Vincent isn't violent. He's with the US FBI," I retorted. Pause. "Okay, he carries a gun and shoots it, he's a law officer. They can do that.""You seem to be stressed," Orsi put an arm around my waist. "Let us ease your worries." Hallelujah!Note: One of History's LessonsIn the last 75 years of military history, airpower had been a decisive factor in every major conflict, save one. Most Americans would think the one exception was US involvement in Vietnam and they'd be wrong: right country, wrong time. Indochina's War of Independence against France was the exception. There, the French Air Force was simply inadequate to the task.Yes, the United States and its allies eventually lost the struggle in Vietnam. But it was their airpower that kept the conflict running as long as it did. For the most part, the Allied and Communist military hardware on the ground were equivalent. While the Allies had superior quantities of supplies, the Communists countered that with numbers, and therein lies the rub.Airpower allowed the Allies to smash large North Vietnamese formations south of the Demilitarized Zone and thus prevented the numerical advantage from coming into play. The North Vietnamese and Viet Cong made one serious stab at a conventional militarily challenge to the Allies, the Tet Offensive, and after initial successes, they were crushed.With the NVA unable to flex their superior numbers, the Allies were able to innovate helicopter-borne counter-insurgency operations. The North Vietnam's Army (NVA) was forced to operate in smaller units, so the Allies were able to engage them in troop numbers that helicopters could support. The air forces didn't deliver ultimate victory, but air power alone had never been able to do so on land. It was only when the US lost faith in achieving any positive outcome in Viet Nam and pulled out, that the North was finally able to overrun the South 20 months later. But every major power today understands the lesson.End of Note(Big Trouble in Little China)The military importance of airpower was now haunting the leadership of the People's Republic of China (PRC), the People's Liberation Army (PLA) and People's Liberation Army Air Force (PLAAF). Their problem wasn't aircraft. Most of their air fleet consisted of the most advanced models produced during the last two decades. The problem was that 80% of their pilots were dead, or dying. Their ground crews were in the same peril. Even shanghaiing commercial pilots couldn't meet the projected pilot shortfall.Classic PLA defense doctrine was to soak up an enemy (Russian) attack and bog down the aggressor with semi-guerilla warfare (classic small unit tactics backed up with larger, light infantry formations). Then, when the invaders were over-extended and exhausted, the armored / mechanized / motorized forces would counter-attack and destroy their foes. This last bit required air superiority through attrition.The twin enemies of this strategy were the price of technology and the Chinese economic priorities. With the rising cost of the high-tech equipment and a central government focus on developing the overall economy, the Chinese went for an ever smaller counter attack striking force, thus skewing the burden of depth of support far in favor of their relatively static militia/police units.So now, while the PLA / PLAAF's main divisions, brigades and Air Wings were some of the best equipped on the planet, the economic necessities had also meant the militia was financially neglected, remaining little more than early Cold War Era non-mechanized infantry formations. To compensate, the Chinese had placed greater and greater emphasis on the deployment capabilities of their scarcer, technologically advanced formations.When the Anthrax outbreak started, the strike force personnel were the first personnel 'vaccinated'. Now those men and women were coughing out the last days and hours of their lives. Unfortunately, you couldn't simply put a few commercial truck drivers in a T-99 Main Battle Tank and expect them to be anything more than a rolling coffin. The same went for a commercial airline pilot and a Chengdu J-10 multi-role fighter. The best you could hope for was for him/her to make successful takeoffs and landings.A further critical factor was that the Khanate's first strike had also targeted key defense industries. The damage hadn't been irreparable. Most military production would be only a month to six weeks behind schedule. But there would be a gap.It was just becoming clear that roughly 80% of their highly-trained, frontline combatants were going to die anyway. Their Reserves were looking at 30~40% attrition due to the illness as well. In the short term (three months), they would be fighting with whatever they started with. Within the very short term (one week), they were going to have a bunch of high-priced equipment and no one trained to use it. With chilling practicality, the Chinese leaders decided to throw their dying troopers into one immediate, massive counter-offensive against the Khanate.Just as Temujin predicted they would. Things were playing out according to plan.Note: World Events SummaryRound #1 had seen the Khanate unite several countries under one, their, banner. Earth  and  Sky soldiers had rolled across the Chinese border as their Air Force and Missile Regiments had used precision strikes to hammer Chinese bases, sever their transportation network and crippled their civilian infrastructure.Next, the frontier offensive units had been obliterated, the cities bypassed and the Khanate Tumens had sped forward to the geographic junctures between what the Khanate wanted and from whence the PLA had to come. In the last phase of Round #1, the Khanate prepped for the inevitable PLA / PLAAF counter-strike.Round #2 had now begun:Step One: Declare to the World that the Khanate was a nuclear power. As history would later reveal, this was a lie, but no one had any way of initially knowing that. Hell, the Khanate hadn't even existed 72 hours ago. Satellite imagery did show the Khanate had medium-range strategic missiles capable of hitting any location in the People's Republic. In Beijing, a nuclear response was taken off the table.Step Two: Initiate the largest air-battle in the history of Asia. Not just planes either. Both sides flew fleets of UCAV's at one another. It wasn't really even a battle between China and just the Khanate. Virtually all of the UAV technology the Khanate was using was Japanese, South Korean and Taiwanese in origin, plus some US-Russian-shared technology thrown into the mix.When the South Korean design team saw the footage of their bleeding-edge dogfighting UCAVs shooting down their PRC opponents, they were thrilled (their design rocked!), shocked (what was their 'baby' doing dominating Chinese airspace?) and anxious (members of South Korea's Defense Acquisition Program Administration, DAPA, were rushing over to chat with them).Similar things were happening in Japan, Taiwan, Russia and the United States. The Communist Party leadership in Beijing were beginning to seriously consider the possibility that everyone was out to get them. Of course, all the Ambassadors in Beijing were bobbing their heads with the utmost respect while swearing on the lives of their first born sons that their nations had nothing to do with any of this.These foreign diplomats promised to look into these egregious breaches of their scientific integrity and were saying how sorry they were that the PLA and PLAAF were getting ass-raped for the World's viewing pleasure. No, they couldn't stop the Khanate posting such things to the internet, something to do with freedom. Paranoia had been creeping into the Potentates' thoughts since the Pakistan/Aksai Chan incident.As they watched their very expensive jets and UCAV's being obliterated, distrust of the global community became the 800 pound gorilla in the room. To add habaneros to the open wounds, the United States and the United Kingdom began dropping hints that they had some sort of highly personal communication conduit with the Khanate's secretive and unresponsive leadership. Yes Virginia Wolfe, the Western World was out to get the People's Republic.'Great Mao's Ghost', all that claptrap their grandfathers had babbled on about (1) the Korea War, (2) the Sino-Soviet grudge match, (3) the Sino-Vietnamese conflict and (4) the persistent support for the renegade province of Formosa all being a continuous effort by the liberal democracies and post-colonial imperialist to contain Chinese communism, didn't sound so crazy anymore.Step Three: Plaster all those PLA ground units that had started moving toward them when the air war began and the Chinese envisioned they would control the skies. The T-99 was a great tank. It also blew up rather spectacularly when it was stuck on a rail car (you don't drive your tanks halfway across China, it kills the treads).As Craig Kilborn put into his late night repertoire:"What do you call a Khanate UCAV driver who isn't an ace yet? Late for work.""What's the difference between me coming off a weekend long Las Vegas bender and a Khanate pilot? Not a damn thing. We've both been up for three days straight, yet everyone expects us to work tonight."Some PLA generals decided to make an all-out charge at the Tumens. Genghis's boys and girls were having none of that. They weren't using their Russian-built Khanate tanks to kill Chinese-built PLA tanks. No, their tanks were sneaking around and picking off the Chinese anti-air vehicles.The Chinese tanks and APCs engaged the dismounted Khanate infantry who, as Aksai Chin had shown, possessed some of the latest anti-tank weaponry. In the few cases where the PLA threw caution to the wind, they did some damage to the Khanate by sheer weight of numbers. For the rest, it was death by airpower.With their anti-air shield gone, the battle became little more than a grisly, real-life FPS game. It wasn't 'THE END'. China still had over 2,000,000 troops to call upon versus the roughly 200,000 the Khanate could currently muster. The PLA's new dilemma was how to transport these mostly truck-bound troops anywhere near the front lines without seeing them also exterminated from the air.After the Tumens gobbled up the majority of the PLA's available mobile forces, they resumed their advance toward the provincial boundaries of Xinjiang and Nin Mongol. There was little left to slow them down. The Chinese still held most of the urban centers in Xinjiang and Nei Mongol, yet they were isolated. And Khanate follow-up forces (the national armies they'd 'inherited') were putting the disease-riddled major municipalities under siege.All over the 24/7 World Wide News cycle, talking heads and military gurus were of two minds about the Khanate's offensive. Most harped on the fact that while the Khanate was making great territorial gains, it was barely making a dent in the Chinese population and economy. Uniformly, those people insisted that before the end of November, the Khanate would be crushed and a reordering of Asia was going to be the next great Mandate for the United Nations.A few of the braver unconventional pundits pointed out the same thing, but with the opposite conclusion, arguing:1.There were virtually no military forces in the conquered areas to contend with the Khanate's hold on the regions.2.Their popularity in the rural towns and countryside seriously undercut any hope for a pro-PRC insurgency.3.Driving the Khanate's forces back to their starting points would be a long and difficult endeavor that the World Economy might not be able to endure.When the PLAAF was effectively castrated after thirty-six hours of continuous aerial combat, a lot of experts were left with egg on their faces. One lone commentator asked the most fearful question of all. Where was the Khanate getting the financing, technical know-how and expertise to pull all of this off? There was a reason to be afraid of that answer.And while I was entertaining my six sailor-saviors, there were two other things of a diplomatic nature only just revealing themselves. Publically, Vladimir Putin had graciously offered to mediate the crisis while 'stealthily' increasing the readiness of his Eastern Military District. If there was any confusion, that meant activating a shitload of troops on the Manchurian border, not along the frontiers of the former nations of Mongolia and Kazakhstan.After all, Mongolia was terribly poor. Manchuria/Northeastern China? Manchuria was rich, rich, rich! From the Kremlin, Putin spoke of 'projecting a presence' into the 'lost territory' of Manchuria, citing Russia's long involvement in the region. By his interpretation of history, the Russians (aka the Soviet Union) had rescued Manchukuo (the theoretically INDEPENDENT Imperial Japanese puppet state of Manchuria) from the Japanese in 1945. They'd even given it back to the PRC for safekeeping after World War II was concluded.Putin promised Russia was ready and willing to help out the PRC once again, suggesting that maybe a preemptive intervention would forestall the inevitable Khanate attack, thus saving the wealthy, industrialized province from the ravages of war. Surely Putin's Russians could be relied on to withdraw once the Khanate struggle was resolved? Surprisingly, despite being recent beneficiaries of President Putin's promises, the Ukraine remained remiss in their accolades regarding his rectitude.In the other bit of breaking news; an intermediary convinced the Khanate to extend an invitation to the Red Cross, Red Crescent and the WHO to investigate the recently conquered regions in preparations for a humanitarian mission.That intermediary was Hana Sulkanen; for reasons no one could fathom, she alone had the clout to get the otherwise unresponsive new regime to open up and she was using that influence to bring about a desperately needed relief effort to aid the civilians caught up in that dynastic struggle. A Princess indeed. No one was surprised that the PRC protested, claiming that since the territory wasn't conquered, any intervention was a gross violation of Chinese sovereignty.End of Note(To Live and Die in Hun-Gray)Orsi may have been the troupe leader, but Anya needed me more, so she came first."I need a shower before we catch some dinner," I announced as we meandered the streets of Mindszent. My lady friends were all processing that as I wound an arm around Anya's waist and pulled her close. "Shower?" I smiled down at her, she was about 5 foot 7. It took her a few seconds to click on my invitation."Yeah, sure, that would be nice," she reciprocated my casual waist hold. Several of her friends giggled over her delay. We were heading back to the Seven Fishermen's Guest House."Do you do this, picking up strange girls you've barely met for, you know?" she said in Bulgarian, as she looked at me expectantly."Yes and no," I began, in Russian. "I often find myself encountering very intriguing women, for which I know I am a fortunate man. I embrace sensuality. That means I know what I'm doing, but I'm not the 'bring him home to meet the parents' kind of guy.""What of your fiancée? Do you feel bad about cheating on her?" Anya pursued me."Hana is wonderful. I've met her father and it went badly both times," I confessed."How?" Anya looked concerned for me."Would you two speak a language the rest of us can understand?" Monika teased us."Very well," I nodded to Monika, and turned back to Anya, "The first time, his son raped a girl and I threatened the young man's life," I revealed. "Jormo, Hana's father, wasn't happy when I did so. The second time, he hit me twice, once in the gut and once in the head," I continued."Why did he hit you?" Orsi butted in."I'd rather not say. You may think less of me," I confessed. Pamela gave me a wink for playing my audience so well. I'm glad she's family (kinda/sorta)."The boy, he is dead?" Magdalena guessed. "Hana's brother?""I really shouldn't talk about that," I evaded. "It is a family matter." That's right. The family that my grandmother had brought me into as her intern / slayer-in-training. There is no reason to create a new lie when you can embellish a previous one."Do you ever feel bad about what you do?" Katalin asked Pamela. We love movies."As I see it, if I show up looking for you, you've done something to deserve it," Pamela gave her sage philosophy behind being an assassin."Are you, bi-sexual?" Jolan murmured. Pamela smacked me in the chest as I laughed. "Did I say something wrong?" Jolan worried. Pamela was a killer."No, you are fine," Pamela patted Jolan's shoulder. "I'm straight and happily so. It just so happens that most of my co-workers are women. Day in, day out, nothing but sweaty female bodies working out, sparring and grappling together, and afterwards, the massages."That was my Grandma, poking all the lesbian buttons of the women around me. Best of all, she did it with the detached air of a sexually indifferent matron. She was stirring up the lassies while keeping them focused on me. We walked into the courtyard of our guest house."Don't take too long, you two," Orsi teased us."Ha!" Pamela chuckled. "That's like asking the Sun to hurry up and rise, the Moon to set too soon, or the sea to stay at low tide forever.""Anya," I whispered into her ear. "How many orgasms do you want?" Anya's eyes expanded. Her eyes flickered toward her friends, then back to me. She held up one finger, I grinned speculatively. Anya held up two fingers. I kissed her fingers.

"How important is it for Christians to rest on the Sabbath? Does this still apply to us today?" Do we even know what the Sabbath is, or what it's for? This week Townsend and Preacher Man will share their thoughts about the idea of Sabbath. Listen and see if you agree!BTW - This is EPISODE 1 of Preacher Man as a GRANDDAD! So, basically you HAVE to listen to this one. ;)Got a question you want answered or a topic you'd like to hear Townsend and Preacher Man muse on? Let them know at mtpm.podcast@gmail.com !Intro music: "Royalty Free Music from Bensound" 

A Time WarpBy FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.What follows is a diversion from the central storyline, but it is crucial to understanding why certain members of the supporting cast are behaving the way they are.808 BCE near Halab in what is today's Northern Syria:For me, Cael Nyilas, it was a return to last night's horrifying scene that engulfed me. The screams of dying horses and moribund men crying the pantheon of life's final regrets. Blood, piss, voided bowels and the stench of comingled sweat and leather filled my nostrils. The true cacophony of battle was all about. The battle shock faded into an innocuous background distraction.In my heart of hearts, I felt at ease, even content. We were cut off and surrounded yet hardly hopeless. Men, my brothers-in-arms and the younger noble sons of Assur and Nineveh combined to put a press of shields, armor and flesh encircling us. Those 'pampered' aristocrats stank with fear and well they should. Death was still possible before their relief arrived.I hurt, Shara (my deity?), I was wounded, but it meant nothing. I laughed; a primitive version of 'atheists and foxholes' passing through my mind. This body had lived through much worse. The closest man, her deceased husband's cousin, and I lifted the shattered wooden chariot off the person our circle was centered on. My arm was extended to her.She was glorious, fierce and half-drunk with battle lust. I could feel her talon-like fingers through the leather and 'parzillu' scales guarding my bicep. She half jumped and was half pulled to her feet. Her kinsman presented her 'misplaced' sword, hilt first. In her eyes, I saw the burning intensity of the Shamash (Sun God, consort of Aya?) at the height of the Burning Season.Her martial mirth exceeded any other noise as it passed her lips."You took your time getting here," Shammuramat taunted me, not a true reproach. "I was so bored, I decide to take a nap in the shade of my conveniently overturned chariot." She defied all fortunes that conspired toward her demise; her own breed of madness."You looked so peaceful in your sleep, I didn't want to wake you," I bantered back. Her 'kinsman' scowled at my familiarity with his monarch. My champions, more like brothers to me than any kin born of my blood, had carved a gory swath to her stranded bodyguard. Mounted on Median steeds, we had pressed back the entourages of two Aramean kings bent on her violent passing.A barricade of overturned, or unattended chariots gave us space to dismount and perform our very visible rescue mission. All the pieces were right where she wanted them; everything unfolding according to her plan. Focus the enemy in the center with her person and the banner of Assur while the rest of her chariots and all of her cavalry swept through an unguarded wadi and fell upon them from behind.Brilliant. Somewhat less brilliant when faced with the desperate energy of our enemies, but her victory was already a certainty. The allied Western Kings were sure my command was attempting to snatch the Queen back to the safety of her infantry. Those hardy, foot-bound souls were still holding their own against the greater mass of the enemy footmen.The children of rebellious nobles bent every bit of their remaining energy, squandered their last reserves to ensure Shammuramat didn't escape. If the positons were reversed, they would have eagerly abandoned their troops and sought safety to the rear. The idea of Shammuramat being overwrought with terror was absurd.Our opponents' bellows for our blood turned into wails of despair. The charging, plumaged steeds of Assyria had appeared behind them. Our enemies had nothing left to slow the new arrivals down, much less stop them. For those who dared defy Shammuramat, Queen of all the Akkadians, the slaughter was just beginning."Come 'Alal' (that was me); I promised 'Atarshumki' I would kick his head over his own city walls before sunset and I always keep my promises," she shoved one of my horse-holders aside and took one of my steeds. 'Alal' was not the name my father gave me. It meant destroyer and it was blasphemy to lay claim to it."Killing kings will cost you extra," was my impious response.Assyrians nobility barely tolerated mercenaries most of the time. My men and I didn't care. I hadn't taken up the killing business to make friends and my troops felt the same way. What mattered to us was that their coin was good and delivered on time. That was a good thing because whores and merchants were loath to advance 'our kind' anything on credit."I'll meet you half way," she grinned manically at me while my fighters and I raced for our mounts. (Saving the junior nobility wasn't what she were paying us for.) "I'll let you take any prince you capture as a hostage." I nodded. My men cheered hungrily, despite the choking dust. As long as I didn't get too greedy, the Kings would pay for their sons. Now we had to capture the bastards."Tūbātu," I reminded them. 'Goodwill'. It was a polite way of saying 'stop your chariot, rest your arms and your mother won't have to come begging for your corpse'. It was best to let opposing nobility keep their dignity in our business. Today's enemy might be tomorrow's paymaster.I blinked and things changed.Planting followed harvest and harvest followed planting. It had long ago become a blur. Shammuramat had grown older. Her first son became king when he was of age. I had long exceeded my welcome and my desire to stay. I was fixed to this small patch of the greater world by a rare emotion, empathy.It had come out of nowhere. We were campaigning against the Scythians raiding over the Zagros Mountains and followed them into Urartu. Night had fallen and I walked the camp as was my habit; being killed a few times in your sleep will make you err on the side of caution. Shammuramat was gazing out over the river Arkas."I though all the scouts have returned," I asked as I stepped to her side. A cool, early autumn breeze blew down the valley, tossing a few loose locks of her greying hair. She always had one patch shorn short which made her left-side braids prone to unwind."They have. We head back for Nineveh with the dawn," she murmured, her mind elsewhere."Do you ever dream of home?" she asked me out of the blue."No. I don't dream anymore. I rarely sleep and if I did, I would hope to dream of something less boring," I snorted in amusement. She had never talked about her home, to anyone as far as I knew."You will be going to Lydia when winter comes," she stated tensely."King Gyges needs someone with experience beating Cimmerians," I answered. The true reason was that I was no longer welcome on the Assyrian payroll because I insisted on recruiting only non-Assyrians into the ranks of my ferociously effective little band of one hundred; never more and rarely less."Shemtsu is a fool," she grumbled."That is unfair," I countered. My willingness to argue with her was one of my charms in her eyes. "He is an excellent Treasurer and he makes sure your vassals pay their tribute on time and in its full amount."The silence was hurtful to me because Shammuramat was never one to obfuscate her thoughts, especially around me. It was one of her charms, to my way of thinking."Salmu Eretu, the northern night sky has no answers for what ails you. Get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to start out cold before it bakes us." I called her 'Black Cloud' in Akkadian.I had first used that name twenty years ago to insult her, highlighting her tempestuous nature. In the Assyrian court, having just received recognition for my quick thinking, Shammuramat had belittled my accomplishment, throwing my body between her, her unborn child (the man who was now not-so-gently ushering me to the border) and a Kassite noble and his retainer bent on killing them both.Had my deed not been witnessed by half a dozen reliable sources, I wouldn't even have received that tawdry token."He sought glory without risk," she spat out her insult in a Hittite tongue alien to this court. Unfortunately for us both, I had worked for a Babylonian family for a few generations and they had been kind enough to turn me from an illiterate commoner to a man of some education.Ironically, they even taught me my native cuneiform long after my birthplace was barely a memory."Well aren't you a black cloud on an otherwise waste of a day," I replied somewhat bitterly. Her eyes widened, then narrowed and then I heard her laugh for the first time."Should I tell them what you said?" she mocked me and my predicament."But of course," I grunted in Akkadian. I'd screwed up. My inner thoughts were 'please not decapitation, please not decapitation' because getting my head on straight after that was a real bitch."You've been nothing but a black cloud bent on turning the choking dust at my feet into a grasping, muddy morass. Why stop now?" I announced loudly. If you are going to die, die well. Having died too many times to count, remembering my last words were all I had left to look forward to.The guards, familiar with the Queen's temper and stunned into inaction by me clearly embracing a long, messy death, stood around uselessly. Had I been allowed a weapon in the royal presence, I might have thought which one to kill first."I gift you, a lowborn man of the South (Sumerian), with honors and you respond by insulting my wife?" King, Shamshi Adad V growled as he rose from his throne."Husband," she stood to join him. I thought it was a pity she rarely smiled. "You asked that I too give a gift to my savior and the savior of our son (all unborn babies were sons back then until roughly half had the audacity to gender switch while exiting the womb). I have chosen." I was expecting my life for the moment and a day's head start to the border."It is your choice to make," the King allowed."From this day, until my passing, this man may always speak his mind in our lands," she demanded. She had a habit of fatally correcting anyone who saw her as less than co-ruler. The hesitation was deafening."As you will," Shamshi Adad V acquiesced to yet another of his wife's odd 'requests'. From that day forth we had been fast friends. She never asked about my immortality, where I was from, or how I ended up with my elite band of professional killers. I returned the favor. It was an unspoken understanding that in a few years, or decades, she would die and I would leave, not necessarily in that order. We had shared more years than I had given to any one person in quite some time."There is nothing left for me but ash," she declared with morbid certainty."Should any of us expect any better?" I did my best to offer words of comfort she would accept."Oh no," her noise was too bitter to be a laugh. "I had my own 'Life beyond Death' and it was stolen from me, along with my birthright.""We are chasing the thieves?" I asked."Yes and no," her face grew grim once more. "These were not the ones I was looking for. They share some bonds with some of the Scythian tribes who live on the far side of the Sea of Death (the Black Sea). These raiders weren't from those tribes.""Why are you turning back?" I questioned. "You know your Assyrians are loyal. They will follow wherever you lead. Your son won't begrudge you these few hundred. I'll come too.""Why?" she turned and looked into my eyes. She still had that blazing fire in her eyes. She was teasing me. If she asked, I too would follow and my men would follow me."The Scythians have been raiding the Lands of the Two Rivers from, well, before I graduated from 'spear for hire' to a 'seeker of a mastery of war'. The rich plunder of their camps will provide plenty of incentive for my men plus we can sell the horses when we come back," I stated."I do not have the years left to spend on such a campaign," she sighed. I had never heard a hint of defeat in her speech before. It was unsettling and rather tragic."I have squandered my years in marriage, being Queen and raising my boys. I tried to make Assyria my new family and I am revealed to be a fool. You had it right. We will always be outlanders. No matter how brave, loyal, just and smart, we would never be allowed in their sanctimonious circle," she said. "You. I should have ridden off with you after my first born was acknowledged (the present King Adad-nirari the 3rd).""We could have gathered up some more fighters, ridden over shattered Phrygia, to the narrows (Bosporus) and into the lands of the Thracians. There is a legend of a great river that pours out from the western shore of the Death Sea. What I seek is up that river.""How many would we face?" I grew equally serious."One," she coughed. "Me." My confusion was obvious. "I am not asking you to fight me, Alal. I want you to come back for me.""I can't. That is not how it works," I stated."How does it work then?" she looked into my eyes. The fire was there, but banked and waning. I didn't say anything. "I have never seen, or heard of you entering a temple.""Your men go. You do not stop them, but you have given up any pretense of worship," she pressed. "Do you not believe that anything exists beyond your senses?""I believe," I sighed. "I believe people are fools for giving offering, pledging their fidelity, pleading for mercy, or extending thanks to any deity. Those Shar-an (gnats) do as they will, unless it is to punish us for treating them like the spoiled children they are."Shammuramat regained her long-stilled laughter."I have always felt a kinship with you through our mutual bitterness.""Bitterness comes with familiarity," I snorted in amusement. Lovers had passion. We shared a simmering anger that came from being irredeemably wronged."I was born Baraqu, the first son of a potter in some city that no longer matters. I was a failure as a potter and an embarrassment to my house and my clan," I began a story I hadn't told another soul in, I couldn't recall. "In those days, the Priest-Kings declared wars and demanded each clan of the city give forth a certain number of males to fight. My family volunteered me and two rowdy cousins.Outside the gates, my clan elder gave each of us a cowhide shield and a spear with a small spindle of copper at the tip so we wouldn't think it was a staff. We marched, I forget which city we were fighting that time. Three days later we found the enemy behind a deep irrigation ditch that had dried out for the season. Our orders were simple, 'There they are. Attack!'My elder was at the back of our mob, making sure none of us ran away. My older cousin made it across the ditch first, but was speared twice; once in the right kidney, I can still remember my first sight of blood, and once, piercing the shield and lodging in his ribcage. My second cousin and I were pushed from behind into the fighting. I stabbed at one shield, doing no harm.Then my surviving cousin's morale broke and he tried to claw his way back into our ranks. He was stabbed in the back, his dying body tangling with mine and bearing us both to the ground. I saw this howling mad face over me. He was a commoner, like me, driven to violence by the terror of battle. His shoddily crafted spear plunged first into my right lung. The second stab found my heart. I died.From there, my spirit fell down toward the wretched dank caverns where all pitiful lowborn dregs are doomed to end up without hope of parole. Instead of endless misery, the Goddess Sarrat Irkalli appeared before me, barring my descent. With icy claws, she trisected my soul. I cannot begin to describe that agony. She snatched up my tattered bits and dragged me back into the world.Sarrat Irkalli is Goddess of the Netherworld, whispered a word that penetrated my brain through the left ear of my cooling corpse. It was an utterance so catastrophic to the fabric of the Veil I dare not repeat it even now.Baraqu? she blew a dark wind upon the first bit of my essence and it flew away.Cael, she whispered to the second portion and off it went in another direction. You are Baraqu no more. The second name was meaningless to me at the time but my name. Do you know that if you have your true name, your spirit can not find its way to your reward, no matter how foul, or pleasing? To the third part of my soul. I name you Alal, he who stands witness to the end of all he desires; their destroyer. Powerful yet powerless.}With that, she left me. My body was stiff from being dead so long. The next few hours were extremely painful. The Sun had set and the Moon was not in evidence. Jackals barked and hyenas laughed as they fought and feasted on the dead. I pushed the body of my cousin off me then crawled down into the ditch to hide. Hardly the reaction of a hero.""Not the actions of the man I know," Shammuramat smirked. "So, your name is Baraqu.""Was and I never much liked the name," I countered. "The priests gave it to me because right before my naming ceremony, a bolt of lightning from a spring storm struck the temple of Shara. So they named me Baraqu, which means 'struck by lightning'.""That sound likes a good name," the Queen Dowager regarded me."That is the noble meaning. The common meaning is less eloquent, it means 'idiot'."Another deep laugh from my treasured compatriot. So few had ever mattered so much to me."Struck by lightning, stricken dumb," she guffawed. "Still not the 'you' I know.""What does the other name mean?""I have no idea. In all my travels I have never found a people familiar with it," I shrugged. She looked out over the low waves lapping against the stony shore."No explanation?" she grudgingly inquired. She had wanted me to continue."No. I have never again come face to face with Sarrat Irkalli, been visited by a messenger, divine, or demonic, received an omen, or any otherworldly presence of any kind," I shrugged. I was long past any resentment. "After the battle I made my way back home, we'd lost, and resumed my life for a few years. My father took the excuse of me 'letting' my kinsmen die to place my younger brother over me.I didn't care. I always hated being a potter, so I ended up being a piddling nuisance all the time and a drunken brawler whenever I had wrangled some beer. I was always the first choice of my clan to send into battle. Despite my lack of training, I began surviving more battles than I died in. At some point, the priests began getting suspicious that I was still hanging around my great-grandnephew's house, so my house Elder suggested I leave the city.I was given a nice copper-headed mace that I had taken in a recent skirmish. Tradition dictated I offer it to the Elder, so he could give it back to me as a sign of my value to the clan. He had taken it for his own. Now he was giving it back out of fear that it held some part of my taint. I had no idea how to live on my own. Two days out, I was robbed and murdered for the first, but not last, time. That inaugural event, I got really angry and hunted those two farmers down.I got my mace back. I also relieved them of an onager, three slaves and a few ingots of silver. I guessed they had been rather successful robbers until they met me."

In Part 2 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad go though some of the hottest trailers and rumors to drop in the past 2 weeks. They talk about the amazing gameplay showcases of Phantom Blade 0 and DOOM: The Dark Ages, which they both consider a day 1 cop. They also showcase the Conan The Barbarian and Pink Floyd additions to Mortal Kombat 1. Finally, they discuss the announcement of yet another Resident Evil movie in the works and also rumors of who will be the protagonist in RE9 and why Code: Veronica still doesn't have a remake.. They then close the show with their live Q&A. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Rick writes "When I was younger I lived in Mississippi in a very little town called Poplar Creek. Its very remote and there is nothing there but open farm land. I now live in Asheville, NC I sometimes go back to MS to see family from time to time. When I do go back I always drive past where I use to live and where I first saw a creature. My family had about 80 acres of land most of it was woodland and swamp area. I never saw the creature until I was older at the age of 15. All of my life my Grandfather use to tell me and my brothers about a wild man and woman that lived in the area and was known to have been living in the area many years. I do know that land we had was very old my Grandfathers Grandparents owned the land and it was passed on over the years. If there were any activity going on over the years when I was younger I had no knowledge of any happenings. Everything changed the summer I turned 13. It was late June and summer vacation was in full effect. Living in this area everyone has a garden of some type. My family's garden was kind of big because we grew most of our food along with hunting. My Mom and Dad went out of town for a the weekend to visit some of my Dads family. During this time I staid at my Uncles house who also lived on the land we had. That Monday afternoon when my Dad came back home he took a walk in the garden and some plants were torn out of the ground and watermelons were busted open and just left in place but were eaten. Other veggies were also picked and parts were on the ground not fully eaten also. My Dad was pissed! He called me and my Cousins over to the garden and questioned us about it. We told him no it was not us and that we did not do any of this. My Grandfather saw my Dad getting on to us about this so he came over and saw everything that had happen. I will never forget my Granddaddy face as he said " It was not the kids. I know who did this". My Granddaddy told us kids to go play as he explained to my Dad about what had happen. My mom and Uncle grew up on the land so I believe they knew but refused to say anything. Come to find out years before my Granddaddy had problems with the wild man and wild woman getting into his chicken coop until it got to the point he quit raising chickens. My Mom and Dad got married when i was 4 or 5 so he missed out on that time and had no idea that even happened. After my Dad heard the story he was in shock but did not believe it until the next morning when more watermelons and other fruits were completely gone. Our two apple trees were picked bare and branches were broken along with our peach trees with peaches that were half eaten or were stepped on. My Dad noticed that our black-eyed peas were being picked and eaten as he would find half eaten hulls or just the hulls on the ground. That night my Dad called his 3 brothers and they came to our house along with my Granddaddy and uncle and they had a meeting in our Livingroom and we the kids had to go play in our rooms. Wes I'm not joking with this my Uncles were locked and loaded Mississippi rednecks were in full effect. LOL.. My Granddad and uncle ( his son) were in the loft of our barn. Two of my Dads brothers got on top of my Dads work shop and my Dad and his other brother were posted up in the field in the back of his old truck. I do not know what time it was but it was late and guns were going off. I jumped up out of bed and ran to a window to see what was going on. After a bit my Mom was pacing back and forth wondering what had happen. The family walked in and each one was shook up. I think because they saw IT.. They told me to go to bed and don't come back out. I could hear them talking and one of my Uncles saying This is not true There is no way that is real I cant believe it .. They staid the night and in the morning everyone went into the woods looking for what they may have seen the night before. around 11 am the men came back with a lot of questions on their face. None of them talked about it and I was told to not talk about this ever to no one. From then on there were no more encounters until the spring of 1993. I was riding the school bus home and was sitting at the back of the bus on the right hand side and my friend Joe was sitting across from me on the left hand side. We passed a bridge that had a small open field on the side of it. This field met the edge of the land my family owned . There it was squatted down drinking water from his hand and in the split 3 seconds Joe and I saw the creature we both turned to each other asking DID YOU SEE THAT! I said what the Hell was that and Joe straight out said Bigfoot!!! a few moments later i was off the bus and was running into tell my Mom. At this time my Dad and Grand Dad had both passed so now this news really shook up my Mom. It was not until a few months later my mother sold the land and we moved away." We will wrap up with Timothy Renner to discuss his new book, I Have Never Minded the Loneliness: Hermits and Their Stories. What compels a person to leave behind society, forsaking family, friends, and the comforts of modern life to live in solitude? The hermits of the 19th and early 20th Centuries are as fascinating as they are mysterious. These enigmatic figures often became the focus of public interest, with newspaper stories turning them into local legends, folk heroes, and symbols of a life apart. Within these pages, you'll discover the extraordinary lives of hermits who defied convention: John Stink, rumored to have died and risen again–more than once; William Woodruff, whose long vow of silence followed a broken heart; Brusher Mills, the serpent-hunter who sold his own snake-oil remedies; and Truman "Commodore" Downs, who claimed Mars as his homeland. Meet Adolphe-Julian Fouré, the reclusive priest who carved strange tales into Brittany's coastal rocks, and Alice Grace, who made her home in an old bacon box, telling fortunes. From William Pester, the desert-dweller who may have inspired Nat King Cole's Nature Boy, to the Old Leather Man, a wandering enigma clad in patchwork leather, and O.B. Joyful, the hermit some call America's first hippie–these stories, and many more, reveal the complex lives of individuals who chose to live apart from the world. Link to: I Have Never Minded the Loneliness: Hermits and Their Stories

In Part 1 of this epsisode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad talk about the official announcement of the Nintendo Switch 2 and give their thoughts and predictions leading up to its April 2025 showcase. They also discuss the rumors of PS6 arrviving in 2027 even though it still feels too soon. They also give thoughts on how they feel Xbox will move going forward and talk about the current round of layoffs that have occured at Ubisoft. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Part 2 of the first episode of 2025 of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad tackle yet another list and this time it comes from Rolling Stone. The publication released their 50 Greatest Video Games of All Time List and let's just say some things they got right and some things they got all the way wrong. Beezy and Granddad then end the show with their live Q&A. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Well, I guess it didn't take long for me to miss one, but here I make a commitment to moving forward.This Week in Geek I share my thoughts on My Adventures w/Superman series, an actual play podcast I have nearly finished and more.Then, since I didn't have an interview ready, I tell a family story that kinda shows where my silliness comes from.The Magpie Podcast: https://magpiespodcast.net/Infinity Saga Rewatch: https://youtu.be/A5fK7gPRCgE?si=5iNnQu5rXYdChHf4

In Part 1 of the first episode of 2025 of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad do a get back into the swing of things by giving us their most anticipated games slated to release in the year 2025. They also talk about the major leaks and rumors surrounding Nintendo's Switch 2 that at the time of this podcast releasing may or may not be officially announced. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

-Stattman had a huge snake in his house this morning? Kinda!-Breaking Reds News!-The Dad Joke of the Day-Is It Too Late to Have Christmas Still Up?-Good Vibes: LA Restaurants Stepping Up for Firefighters-Wait! Is Dave a Granddad?-The National Archives Needs Your Help! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoicesSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

-Stattman had a huge snake in his house this morning? Kinda! -Breaking Reds News! -The Dad Joke of the Day -Is It Too Late to Have Christmas Still Up? -Good Vibes: LA Restaurants Stepping Up for Firefighters -Wait! Is Dave a Granddad? -The National Archives Needs Your Help! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

This week Carissa and I are discussing Robert Egger's Nosferatu. I review the new Old Grand-Dad 16 year old kentucky straight bourbon.

In Part 2 of the final episode of 2024 of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad give their Top 10 Games of 2024. Some are obvious choices and others may surprise but all are solidified in their spot as some of the best that 2024 had to offer. They then end the show with their live Q&A. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

#600 I've noticed it's always GrandDad paying for the movie, so here's the winner.

In Part 1 of the final episode of 2024 of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad do a full recap of The Game Awards 2024. They go over all the winners, talk about the big trailers, announcements and reveals as well as give their thoughts on the controversary surrounding the new game "Intergalactic" from Naughty Dog. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Part 2 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad continue to go through the second half of IGN's Top 100 PlayStation games of all time list and after the uproar of the first half let's just say it doesn't get any easier. Ending in a surprising top 10 that nobody expected. They change things up to end the show by doing a tier list of every PlayStation console that has released in it's legendary 30 year run. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Part 1 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad talk about the 30th anniversary of PlayStation. They begin go through the first half of IGN's Top 100 PlayStation games of all time list and there are some shocking placements that leave both Beezy and Granddad confused, upset and downright angry. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Part 2 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad talk about the nominees for The Game Awards 2024 and predict will or should win on the big night. The Game Awards goes down live Thursday, December 12 at 7:30pm EST. They then close the show with their live Q&A. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Part 1 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad talk about the upcoming Madden documentary coming to Prime Video. They also give their thoughts on scalpers having trouble moving PS5 Pros, Palworld getting sued by Nintendo, Ghostface arriving in MK1 and the possibility of Xbox creating a handheld console in the near future. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

It's Manscaped Mouth Experience Monday!!  This episode, Dude blinds JD with Old Grand Dad 114. Find out how they rate it… on this episode of, The Bourbon Hunters. Also, kill two birds with one stone by supporting our podcast and keeping those testes nice and clean.  Go to www.manscaped.com and get 20% off your order plus free shipping using the promo code BOURBONHUNTERS.  We are pretty excited about this partnership and cannot wait for you to start thinking about us as your are naked and manscaping.  Do you like buying bourbon gear?  Check out our website at https://www.bourbonhunters.com where you can do both with our latest bourbon shirts and our Bourbon Hunter Kenzie Drams. --Tags-- #punkrockandcocktails #thebourbonenthusiast #bourbonhunters #bourbonlover #breakingbourbon #bourbondrinkers #bourbonporn #kentuckystraightbourbon #kentuckybourbon #thebourbonalliance #bourbon #bourbonlife #bourbonlifestyle #bourbonenthusiast #bourbonwhiskey  #bourboncountry #deckpour #bourbongram #instabourbon #yourbourbonyourway #yourbourbonroad #blantons #pappyvanwinkle #vodkasucks #bourbonpodcast #columbuspodcast #bourbonneat #smokewagonbourbon #woodinvillewhiskey   -- Tags -- the bourbon enthusiast  bourbon hunters  bourbon lover  breaking bourbon  bourbon drinkers  bourbon porn  kentucky straight bourbon  kentucky bourbon  the bourbon alliance  bourbon  bourbon life  bourbon lifestyle  bourbon enthusiast

In Part 2 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad are back with another game and this time they give their spin on the classic game "Password". Both must give up to 3 clues that describe a video game character and the other must guess correctly. The first to 7 wins but in true DEG fashion, Beezy and Granddad find a way to not have it all together. They then end the show with their live Q&A. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Part 1 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad talk about Nintendo's newest product named "Alarmo" and give their not so positive thoughts on it. They also discuss EA finally considering brining back Fight Night due to the attention that Undisputed is receiving, Netflix shutting down it's gaming division before releasing any games, Sakurai saying goodbye to his YouTube channel and hello to his newest video game project, and finally, Bandai Namco's tactics to force it's workforce to quit. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Live from the Omni to end this week's edition of the program. Nick Frazier is filling in today & joins Chase to discuss the Titans looking ahead to the Titans next season. Nashville Predators CEO Sean Henry discusses the future of Bridgestone Arena & what exciting features are in the building now. Forever Titan Chris Sanders hopped on as well to preview the Titans-Lions game & shared his thoughts on Deandre Hopkins being dealt to Kansas City.

  I think I've been begging for an age stated OGD for the better part of a decade which is why I was so pleased to see a 16yr old Old Grand Dad at 100 proof just drop! Beam's high rye mashbill is on full display in this allocated offering, serving up licorice, orange marmalade, oak spice, fine leather and an impeccably chewy finish. This is a big, spicy, yet elegant whiskey right at home on the TOP shelf in any collection.

In Part 2 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad go over the some of the most talked about upcoming games, series and movies and predict if it's going to be a Big W or Big Trash. They then end the show with their live Q&A. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Everyone has a story, and then there's John Graham, a self-proclaimed “badass granddad” who has ENDLESS stories! John has heard the call to adventure from a young age, joining a freighter boat crew as a teenager. He has seen war first-hand, worked for the United Nations, escaped a burning ship during a typhoon, and climbed treacherous mountains…that's just a sample. We're not sure what he *hasn't* done! John Graham is the Executive Director of global nonprofit The Giraffe Heroes Project, author, speaker, and seasoned adventurer. The Giraffe Heroes Project recognizes people who “stick their necks out for the common good,” and encourages everyone to make a difference.  John continues to live a life of service. He shares his experiences with PTSD, finding his meaning in life, and so much more. You have to hear it to believe it. Drink up his stories! Enjoying your Social Soup? Share it with your friends, subscribe, and rate the show.  Check out The Giraffe Heroes Project: https://www.giraffe.org/  Read John Graham's memoir, Quest—Risk, Adventure, and the Search for Meaning: https://www.johngraham.org/books/quest-risk-adventure-and-the-search-for-meaning  Connect with John Graham on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/johnagraham1/    Connect with Michelle on LinkedIn: ⁠linkedin.com/in/michelledattilio⁠  Learn more about sōsh: visit our website and reach out! ⁠getsosh.com ⁠   Join us next week for another bowl of Social Soup!

Original Air Date: January 28, 1949Host: Andrew RhynesShow: The Lone RangerPhone: (707) 98 OTRDW (6-8739) Stars:• Brace Beemer (Lone Ranger)• John Todd (Tonto) Writer:• Fran Striker Producer:• George W. Trendle Music:• Ben Bonnell Exit music from: Roundup on the Prairie by Aaron Kenny https://bit.ly/3kTj0kK

Original Air Date: January 28, 1949Host: Andrew RhynesShow: The Lone RangerPhone: (707) 98 OTRDW (6-8739) Stars:• Brace Beemer (Lone Ranger)• John Todd (Tonto) Writer:• Fran Striker Producer:• George W. Trendle Music:• Ben Bonnell Exit music from: Roundup on the Prairie by Aaron Kenny https://bit.ly/3kTj0kK

Jim Beam has been releasing limited edition bottles faster than we can keep up with. As a result, we thought it would be appropriate to review two brand new releases that are being discussed a lot: Old Grand-Dad 16 Year and Booker's The Reserves (2024 release). Both of these whiskeys are produced by Jim Beam, but they have different mashbills and there are significant differences in both age and proof. But, how do they taste? You'll have to listen to find out. Even though this is a "short" episode, we found a way to incorporate many blinds and pack in a ton of goodness. -------------------------- Socials IG: https://www.instagram.com/themashupky FB: https://www.facebook.com/themashupky TW: https://twitter.com/themashupky Partnership(s) Visit Bourbonoutfitter.com and enter code THEMASHUP for a special discount or visit bourbonoutfitter.com/THEMASHUP Visit https://woodworkcollective.shop and enter code MASHUP for a 15% discount on your order Music: All the Fixings by Zachariah Hickman Thank you so much for listening!

Support Our Sponsor: CAUSE & EFFECT: TURBO by Chris Akin. https://amzn.to/2HRJ6n3 In this episode, we dive into the life of a musician with a rich legacy. We discuss growing up referring to Led Zeppelin's drummer, John Bonham, as "Grand Dad" and being musically influenced by Limp Bizkit's *Chocolate Starfish*. Hear how smashing drums as a kid to annoy Mom paved the way for becoming a singer/songwriter, walking his own path. Discover the emotional moment when his father, Jason Bonham, praised his latest album *Heart of Thorns*, and learn the deep meaning behind the album title. We also explore his journey to sobriety and how it shaped his life. From opening for his Dad's band to receiving heartfelt questions from Led Zeppelin fans like army veteran Dan Eberhardt, every part of his journey is inspiring. We talk about the power of love and heartbreak, and so much more in this unforgettable conversation. Hashtags: ledzeppelin limpBizkit jasonbonham drummerlife sobrietyjourney **NOTE: Everything said here, and on every episode of all of our shows are 100% the opinions of the hosts. Nothing is stated as fact. Do your own research to see if their opinions are true or not.** Please SUBSCRIBE, click the notification bell, leave a comment or a like, and share this episode!

In Part 1 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad have been away for a month and a lot has happened in the world of gaming. So they decided to play catch up this episode and talk on various news and topics that occurred in the past month including the PS5 Pro details, Xbox's latest round of layoffs, Concord being shut down in less than 2 weeks after launch and much more. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

On this episode, Jason brings over an assortment of newer bottles including Elijah Craig Barrel Proof C924, Old Granddad 16 year, Discovery 12, and his shorty pick of 4-Grain Bourbon from Middle West Spirits. Find out what we thought… on this episode of, The Bourbon Hunters. Also, kill two birds with one stone by supporting our podcast and keeping those testes nice and clean.  Go to www.manscaped.com and get 20% off your order plus free shipping using the promo code BOURBONHUNTERS.  We are pretty excited about this partnership and cannot wait for you to start thinking about us as your are naked and manscaping.  Do you like buying bourbon gear?  Check out our website at https://www.bourbonhunters.com where you can do both with our latest bourbon shirts and our Bourbon Hunter Kenzie Drams. --Tags-- #punkrockandcocktails #thebourbonenthusiast #bourbonhunters #bourbonlover #breakingbourbon #bourbondrinkers #bourbonporn #kentuckystraightbourbon #kentuckybourbon #thebourbonalliance #bourbon #bourbonlife #bourbonlifestyle #bourbonenthusiast #bourbonwhiskey  #bourboncountry #deckpour #bourbongram #instabourbon #yourbourbonyourway #yourbourbonroad #blantons #pappyvanwinkle #vodkasucks #bourbonpodcast #columbuspodcast #bourbonneat #smokewagonbourbon #woodinvillewhiskey   -- Tags -- the bourbon enthusiast  bourbon hunters  bourbon lover  breaking bourbon  bourbon drinkers  bourbon porn  kentucky straight bourbon  kentucky bourbon  the bourbon alliance  bourbon  bourbon life  bourbon lifestyle  bourbon enthusiast

Steve, Miss Beka Sue, Darren, Jeff & Von Nieters weigh-inn on which 80 proofer is better: Old Grand-Dad or Four Roses. TBD music is by Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com).   Important Links: Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/theabvnetwork Our Events Page: bourbonpalooza.com Check us out at: abvnetwork.com. The ABV Barrel Shop: abvbarrelshop.com   Join the revolution by adding #ABVNetworkCrew to your profile on social media.

Presidents Cup week has arrived, and the first Smylie Show preview covers potential pairings for Team USA and International, who got snubbed, which strategies we'll see Jim Furyk and Mike Weir employ, and more!Smylie Kaufman and Charlie Hulme begin by recapping a thrilling finish at the BMW PGA Championship, as Rory McIlroy comes up just short a second straight week. Billy Horschel's playoff win leads to a renewed discussion about a “global tour,” and whether the fall might be a perfect opportunity to have the PGA TOUR's best play abroad in elite DP World Tour events.Smylie and Charlie wrap the show with a preview of the Tobacco Road project that will be on the channel soon - don't forget to like, comment, and subscribe for that + more golf insights! #pgatour #progolf #golftrip #pgachampionship #memorial #justinthomas #scottiescheffler #golfpodcast #pgatourpodcast #presidentscup CHAPTERS:00:00 - Intro01:35 - Baby Watch continues04:20 - Smylie's New Painting Reveal05:00 - Charlie's Granddad at Pebble Beach07:30 - Check out www.therecoverypen.com13:58 - Recapping the BMW PGA Championship18:52 - Billy Horschel's Presidents Cup Snub19:51 - DP World Tour and PGA Tour Relationship26:45 - Attracting More PGA Tour Players to DP World Tour33:14 - Presidents Cup Discussion32:18 - Check out www.ahead.com33:40 - Jim Furyk's Captains Picks36:44 - Presidents Cup Roster Breakdown39:04 - US Team Cohesion43:15 - Potential US Team Pairings45:25 - International Team Overview49:10 - Min Woo Lee Spotlight57:45 - Cam Davis Snub Analysis59:15 - Mike Weir's Strategy01:01:25 - Keegan Bradley's Partner Reveal01:05:45 - Aaron Rai Discussion #raiguys01:06:45 - More Potential Pairings01:14:41 - Tobacco Road Sneak Peek01:17:30 - Hope Valley Member-Guest Recap01:20:35 - Outro

In Part 2 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad are back with anothe tier list after the horrendous results of the video game movies tier list. This time, their ranking video games turned into tv series and let's just the it is nowhere near the levels of big trash as the movies were. Even though Granddad feels his boy got done dirty. They then end the show with their live Q&A which also ends up turning into an impromptu DEW takeover. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Part 1 of this episode of the Dead End Gaming Podcast, Beezy and Granddad recap the biggest announcements and showings of this years Gamescom event that includes a few pleasant surprises. They also talk about the first trailer for the Sonic 3 movie and how it seems Sega may go 3 for 3 with the franchise on the big screen. Another topic is Terry Bogard getting his gameplay trailer for his addition to Street Fighter 6 and Granddad doesn't appreciate Ken being the punching bag in the process. The also speak on the massive success of Black Myth Wukong by selling over 10 million copies in it's opening week and living up to the long awaited hype. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

BEST OF HMS PODCASTS - MONDAY - August 12, 2024 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices