Podcasts about hmmmmm

There are MANY things science can't explain, but yet they pretend to understand- (with theories and computer models.)Yet we can explain (and USE!) some elements covered on this episode such as:-stereoscopic vision-predictive capabilities-applied filtering mechanics (reticular activating system)-intentional focus (without intention we choose base survival needs)We can explain these things loosely I must add. But... this is some seriously awesome info. Consciousness coming from the brain or somewhere else is the overall biggest question. Is it actually a receiver? Like an antenna grabbing a signal, much the same as cell phones. Only one number reaches YOU. Hmmmmm?Thank you for listening ~ Jay Scott ____________________________________________________❤️Help -keeping it REAL- by being a supporter of the podcast! Support is as simple as giving whatever you feel the show is worth to you. I will always be dedicated to bringing you value. Please consider returning some value in return! Even a like, comment, or share helps. You have my gratitude.

OTAs are in full swing, so what's made Team Analyst/Radio Sideline Reporter John Harris go "Hmmmmm" so far? He shared those thoughts with Texans TV's Drew Dougherty, and the duo also discussed some joint practice news.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Today's word of the day is ‘45' as in the Celtics as in the Knicks as in 3-point shooting as in NBA playoffs. What a game. The Knicks came back from 20 points down to win Game 1 of the Second Round. At what point do the Celtics stop shooting like that? Never? Will they ever miss that many again? (10:20) The Denver Nuggets came back to beat the Oklahoma City Thunder on the back of Nikola Jokic again. He dropped a monster game. And Aaron Gordon dropped the game-winner. (14:30) Justin Tucker was released by the Baltimore Ravens on Monday. We all knew it was coming. But the Ravens statement… what was that? (23:50) The NFL Draft is coming to Washington D.C. Donald Trump, Roger Goodell, and Josh Harris made the announcement together. Hmmmmm. (32:25) Review: Another Simple Favor. (36:05) So You Wanna Talk to Samson!? Someone asked me about trading Sandy Alcantara. Is his value plummeting with how bad he has been? (45:50) NPPOD. (48:11) The Texas Rangers fired its hitting coach on Sunday. It's been a bad, bad , bad season for them offensively. In comes Brett Boone to save the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Today's word of the day is ‘45' as in the Celtics as in the Knicks as in 3-point shooting as in NBA playoffs. What a game. The Knicks came back from 20 points down to win Game 1 of the Second Round. At what point do the Celtics stop shooting like that? Never? Will they ever miss that many again? (10:20) The Denver Nuggets came back to beat the Oklahoma City Thunder on the back of Nikola Jokic again. He dropped a monster game. And Aaron Gordon dropped the game-winner. (14:30) Justin Tucker was released by the Baltimore Ravens on Monday. We all knew it was coming. But the Ravens statement… what was that? (23:50) The NFL Draft is coming to Washington D.C. Donald Trump, Roger Goodell, and Josh Harris made the announcement together. Hmmmmm. (32:25) Review: Another Simple Favor. (36:05) So You Wanna Talk to Samson!? Someone asked me about trading Sandy Alcantara. Is his value plummeting with how bad he has been? (45:50) NPPOD. (48:11) The Texas Rangers fired its hitting coach on Sunday. It's been a bad, bad , bad season for them offensively. In comes Brett Boone to save the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Check out this week's episode on the One LIFE Podcast. This week we will be talking from the topic, Is your Title and Idol? Never let your position/title separate you from obeying the TRUTH of the voice of God. Hmmmmm? Tell a friend and listen in. Click now to listen.

Today's word of the day is 'Spring Pain-ing' as in Spring Training as in pain as in injuries as in the Mets as in the Yankees as in every team. This is the time of year. Players show up. Players get hurt. Teams scramble. Lovely! (10:00) Giancarlo Stanton is dealing with a double elbow problem. WOOF! But on the bright side they are now allowing beards! Yay! (22:10) So You Wanna Talk to Samson!? Someone asked me about Tony Clark's comments to Rob Manfred about a lockout in baseball. Hmmmmm. (36:50) Review: Nickel Boys. (38:30) Is it the end of the Tush Push? The talk is back. The Packers want it gone. The Eagles run it to great success. (44:40) NPPOD. (45:45) The Sixers are falling apart again. Joel Embiid might be done. His knees are cooked. The Sixers keep losing. The Big 3 didn't work. (50:00) Suns owner Mat Ishbia's brother, Justin, has moved on from the Minnesota Twins. Uh oh. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Today's word of the day is 'Spring Pain-ing' as in Spring Training as in pain as in injuries as in the Mets as in the Yankees as in every team. This is the time of year. Players show up. Players get hurt. Teams scramble. Lovely! (10:00) Giancarlo Stanton is dealing with a double elbow problem. WOOF! But on the bright side they are now allowing beards! Yay! (22:10) So You Wanna Talk to Samson!? Someone asked me about Tony Clark's comments to Rob Manfred about a lockout in baseball. Hmmmmm. (36:50) Review: Nickel Boys. (38:30) Is it the end of the Tush Push? The talk is back. The Packers want it gone. The Eagles run it to great success. (44:40) NPPOD. (45:45) The Sixers are falling apart again. Joel Embiid might be done. His knees are cooked. The Sixers keep losing. The Big 3 didn't work. (50:00) Suns owner Mat Ishbia's brother, Justin, has moved on from the Minnesota Twins. Uh oh. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hmmmmm... Musikalisch war schon lange keine Folge mehr so entspannt wie diese hier. Zwar geht es durchaus dramatisch los, dann aber erwarten euch zärtlicher Singer-Songwriter- und träumerischer Lounge Pop sowie abgehangener Space-Funk. Und wenn man gerade denkt, dass es nicht mehr besser werden kann, entpuppt sich unser Quizgewinner Andreas als Bruder im Geiste und begnadeter Conférencier, der noch mal einen echten Höhepunkt beisteuert. Ganz ehrlich – diese Folge würden wir uns sogar selbst anhören.

In todays episode of OTB the boys talk about the Super Bowl 57 Rematch between Jalen Hurts and Patrick Mahomes. The Philadelphia Eagles CRUSH the Kansas City Chiefs leaving many fans feeling justified over the course of the season saying that the team was not GREAT. Mahomes was pressured all night with 47% of his drop backs resulting in a pressure... Joe Burrow earlier this year playing against the Ravens faced 48% and dropped a four hundo on them... HMMMMM... Kickers ultimately were the REAL difference in the game Jake Elliot 4/4 on FGs made, Harrison Butker? ZERO... Maybe Nick Sirianni isnt a bad coach and Jalen Hurts is an Above Avg QB. We will discuss all this and more COMING UP! OFF THE BENCH! HERE WE GO!

This episode is inspired by several sissy sluts who have a fantasy about being a porn star. That is the perfect career for a sissy slut, isn't it? LOL The Femdom hosts talk about transwomen who are porn stars right now. Do you have a favorite trans porn star? We do and you'll hear some of our top picks who are in the adult entertainment business right now.The ladies talk about a sissy gurl they know who is exploring this as part of her sissy training and feminization. What are some of the possible roleplay options for a sissy:The sexy girlfriend with a special something extraThe submissive sissy The slutty bimbo - which often involves humiliation and emasculationAnything that includes a sissy maid - what kind of clean up will happen? The cuckold husband turned into a sissySPH - small penis humiliation and/or chastityThe role of BBC in sissy pornCum eating and CEI to train a sissy to love to eat cumWhat kind of script or scene would you want to be in? Hmmmmm?Let us know!Mistress Olivia's blog: Experienced MistressMistress Erika's blog:  Intelligent Phone Fantasy

Mitch is, as we learned in the premiere, Capeside High's football coach, and both he and Principal Green are very focused on turning around the team's years-long losing streak. (This contradicts what we were told about now long-gone football star Cliff, but never mind; he's in a better place.) Mitch and the principal thus enlist Dawson to create a promotional film for the team, and somehow he finds the time around condom shopping, because Eve is still around -- now as a Capeside senior -- and still very openly coming on to Dawson whenever she sees him. It's too bad Dawson can't use footage of the current team, because freshman quarterback Henry Parker (Michael Pitt) is actually good, and by chance finds the wide receiver of his dreams in Jack, whom Mitch soon drafts to join the team; this should provide a nice break for Jack from worrying about why his dad, who has moved his business to Capeside so that Andie can resume her studies there, doesn't want Jack to join them. Speaking of Andie: she's inconveniently released from her residential treatment center days in to the school year. Pacey is overwhelmed with excitement about getting to pick her up -- after having apparently only written emails and letters the whole time she was gone -- but when he gets there, he finds her with a boy, and then seems to be avoiding Pacey whenever he tries to get some time alone with her. HMMMMM. Come home to our latest episode on "Homecoming"! JOIN THE AWT CLUB

C'est l'heure des retrouvailles entre Dricus Du Plessis et Sean Strickland à Sydney lors de l'UFC 312. Hébergé par Acast. Visitez acast.com/privacy pour plus d'informations.

KEENAN is the head of the league's research and development team. KEENAN WELL, Ya'll sho' chose the wrong girl to fuck wit! Why do you say that? KEENAN Well, i'mon just let ya'll figure that out on ya own. [KEENEN exits shaking his head solemnly, and begins singing ‘Amazing Grace' , first humming.] Hmmmmm—hmmm—how sweet the sound— Wait! Keenan! Who is this girl?! Who is she?! —hmmm—hmmm—hmmm—hmmmmmmmm LIKE MEEEEEEE! What are we up against Oh. you'll see. I woooonceeee was lost— Wait! SEEYA! [out of nowhere he has pulled out an old style stick bundle and throws it over his shoulder, continuing to hum while chewing on a long stick of straw.] —-hmmmm—-hmmmm. …where is he going!? (Meta) Seems like he's going somewhere with that thing hanging over his back! What are those things even called, anyway? Who knows? I think I know, but it might be racist. [suddenly, offstage/camera a bell begins to ring— One— Two— Three chimes.] That seems odd. Yes, very strange. [Suddenly, all the NBC pages at once upend their nests,] what the— Why are there so many of them. I don't know. Did their skirts get shorter? Hush. So many pages. MEANWHILR, unst 30 Rock. Hold on, pause. These weirdo cops have reverb on their whoop whoops. Facts. Are you sure this is still the 10th dimension. I'm positive. Really! You're sure! Couldn't possibly be lower. Maybe. What about higher. Higher!? Since when. WHAT'S YOUR NAME. Uh-FRANKLIN. Don't lie to me. How would you pronounce this name? I wouldn't. Hm. Excuse me. What. How would you say this? Like, out loud— Uh huh. Pass. Dammit! Hey—uh— RACHEL DRATCH What, dammit; what?! I just sat down with my bagel! I know but— I need your help— interpreting something? What is it? Gibberish? Not really, it's— I'm an expert in Gibberish— I know; but— Classical and neo-modern. Yeah, it's not that. What is it. Alien, I think. Which species. Species. WHICH— ugh— give me that! [she snatches the paper and produces a monocle for further inspection.] Since when did you get a monacle? since when changed insurance companies which supplies said ‘monocologists' and covers such expenses sans-coh-pay. You mean copay? Shut up. Hm. Looks to be Unrealian in orgim but I could be mistaking this dialect. What. Could also possibly be AAHHMEK. Ahmek? Ano, AAAAH— nevermind. Is this an actual apostrophe? Beg your pardon. The apostrophe— is it human derived, or the human pseudo translation replacement for a afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh? Say again. Is it an actual apostrophe, or is the mark mean to insinuate the commonly used extraterrestrial character afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh? …I don't know. WELL, then—I'm afraid I can't help you until you forgive that out— What. Depending on what the mark is, those could be two veerrrrry different things. Would you just, Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to presume the consumption of my RAISINBagel. You know what. -_- -_- -_- …fine. [he snatches the paper and walks away angry—RATCHEL DRATCH begins to shmear her bagel, mumbling] —wants me to translate, but doesn't know the difference between an apostrophe, and a afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh. Please! {Enter The Multiverse} Unlike the girl next door, my lawsuit was legitimate. I strolled passed the usual subjects on my way back to the apartment from my begrudged outings; I had left with the intention of putting my money into a cheap record player, but had after all decided against it—I was saving for a new computer so that I could actually record vocals for my music, which would deplete my budget after living expenses for the month into nothing, and though I knew it would be something like next-to-nothing for the next little while anyway, it wouldn't matter. Now that I knew I was right, I continued compiling the evidence against these motorized terrorists—I didn't actually want to sue, but at this point it seemed it was my only choice— my lowly “status” should not mean that I was allowed to be tortured continually—and, unlike the girl next door, I was not seeking damages for something I had asked for, or brought onto myself; the horrendous sound in the apartment seemed as if it was aimed directly toward me with my synesthesia in mind, and with some amount of pride I refused outright to go the way I was expected to and file a disability claim. I wasn't disabled— I was, however, unable to preform my full work duties as a recording artist without being interrupted by motorcycles, project cars, and otherwise, all of which I suspected were operated by the same group of people— some ugly little brown lackeys who felt entitled in one way or another, and paraded around as if they owned the neighborhood. Benefiting from American business, but anti-American; the opposite of peaceful and respectful—not that America had made its name on the basis of respect, and so it seemed that something, out of balance and off kilter for hundreds of years iknretropect, was bound to change. They were rude, arrogant, and loud—bringing al of the 3rd-world mindset and none of the humility or charm of the actual 3rd world with them; as arrogant as one might think, a gross reflection of the toxic masculine as a whole. They might not have been ugly at all if they were respectful or decent—but they ran about acting like terrorists, revving their engines, and banging, and clashing, and being ugly—employing young boys to stand on the corner and sell their off market drugs after having one of their smoke shops closed down. The more time I spent outside dealing with people at all, the more ill I felt. I craved more time offline and off the grid, and though the general disenchantment of New York would continue pouring through the cheaply made windows, I realized that I would be more well-to-do with a typewriter (so that I could continue to write for long periods of time offline and without my phone) and a record player (to drown out the noise and play along to on my drum machine, and still— there were more things to do, always drowning in bills and often wondering how long I'd have to forfeight health in exchange for the decency of what some might cal luxury, but others foundational. As for myself, these things, simple staples to health and wellness, were beginning to be foundational. {Enter The Multiverse} “As Seen on TV” She doesn't even have a name My pussy is cleaner than a motherfucker This ain't no community like Donald Glover Ya'll niggas actin childish, Gambino— If you wanna turn it on, Then send a c-note (I'm in south side) What she want Peloton What she on peloton What she got peloton What she on Peloton I FOUND KIT! I found KIT. Great, now did you burn that letter? What. Burn it. [does] Oh, that is such a relief. Jesus. Okay. This shit does get weird and deep. —so that's why we're going offline… You wouldn't believe this, I found the kid swinging from a tree. Ridiculous. And if you tie it like this— Ah. Look, it won't slip. So…this is your hobby, huh. One of many. They don't call you the Ace for nothin, do they. (Innocently, with curiosity) “Of Granduer” —Do they? The sound of a chandelier sparkles as the giant lamp swings back and forth, as if an earthquake has just happened. You wouldn't believe this. What. On the television. Okay, so I found this “Kit” guy— Twice. Twice you asked, and twice I told you. Well, I didn't think to look directly at Johnny Carson, exactly. But here— And this: You actually were. Tell me again what your name is. Just sign me an autograph: What. Me? Sure, why not? I want your autograph! Do people still ask for autographs? Often enough. Remarkably, even, at airports, and of course, unexpectedly at— GODDAMMIT, we're back at the rock! GODDAMMIT. Well. Well what! Somebody check what year it is. FUCK. [super long censored beep.] [The Festival Project ™] It was the first time since my childhood I felt like something was too long away—but finally, I was in the final stretch. The Peloton would be delivered sometime in the morning, and now that my internet had shut itself off— I'd refused to pay the bill and opted for getting a new computer so that I could record, rather it— Give me a second, I'm fucking obsessed with these curtains. Bro but second to the curtains is the fucking grass. No, its—tuft. Turf, huh? Interesting… I told you she was some sort of a spy. Whatever. I had long considered turning my living room into a media center, and had thought to reinvent my entire space in fungshuei, but now more than anything I just wanted it to look like that. {Enter The Multiverse} Something is wrong with her . She sits by her door ALL DAY and just fucking talks. And I know she's by her door Because she's RIGHT AT THE DOOR I hear this crystal clear Anytime I go near my door And she's like BLAHBLAHBLAHBLAHBLAH BITCH GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE DOOR somewhere in a parallel of time Your ancestors Are beating the hell Out of my ancestors And your other ancestors Are stealing my other ancestors land You're on borrowed time And in borrowed space GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE DOOR. Man, Living sandwhiched between two Karen's Is like the equivalent Of having two demon fucking little sisters That hate you And tell on your for everything. Slamming doors and shit just to fuckin Throwing shit around Bitch. You are crazy. And that's the thing about white girls Their crazy is socially acceptable As normal behavior I guess when you just have the best things in life thrown at you forever— When things the rest of us consider luxury and opulence is just “regular” to you, You get a little set in your ways. My neighbor is infuriating. I'm like WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS BY THE DOOR SHES LIKE SNARFSNRFSNARF I'm like goddamn, Somebody send like a Camden or a fuckin “Chase” Over this way. Somebody take this bitch on a date And away from the door. Whole two bedroom apartment This bitch is glued to her door. She a robot. The door is metal. She just enters the apartment and gets glued stuck to the door “I guess I will have to snarf snarf from here. “She's a smart one” I don't believe in smart white girls. There's regular white girls And fucking serial killers. The serial killers are considered “the smart ones” I guess it does take a considerable amount of intelligence to just exist to catch bodies That's what they call the smart ones The ones who level up by just Mowing everyone else down. Gotta give them that. White girls will ruin your whole life Blink two little blue-green eyes twice— And if they're big and round enough The brown eyed white girls can get away with the shit, too— But they're fucking murderers. It's okay. I lived with white people long enough in my life to love them. But in living with and around them— I notice they all say the same thing which indicates to me that racial injustice might not actually be their fault— They might be killing niggas on accident. Just complete accidents White people say shit like “I can't feel” What. “How does it feel—to feel.” WHAT?! “Explain to me the concept of ‘emotions'” Ah hell nah— And these people have all the disposable income? It's not their fault. They just— are like that. They're wired different. They can't feel, And their first instinct is to kill everything different or perceivably deadly. It's not their fault It's intrinsically They have extremely fragile genes Very weak gene pools. Have you ever noticed how white people are always sick? Always?! Weak gene pools. Years of breeding narcisistically. Traits that are reminders of themselves, or people they grew up around. This is not racism, it's just science. “Oh, I love blue eyes because my grandmother has blue eyes” White men commonly marry women who remind them of their mothers and sisters. If that's not fucked up, I don't know what is. Then I realized that incest porn and teeny porn are amongst the highest watched types of porn. Hmm. Gee. I wonder why. Men are gross. But white moms need to start being more like black and Hispanic moms if they want to ensure the continuance of their genetics into evolution. You need to give your kids some mommy issues. That way, when they grow up, they feel the need to add variation to the gene pool in order to strengthen it, and move towards evolution. It's true. I lived with maybe the whitest man I ever knew for almost 6 months; I don't think he was specifically intentionally trying to kill me— But everything he did— And I mean everything, up to a certain point was like …I don't know, man. It really seems like this dude is trying to like exterminate me in some sort of way. It was bad. The energy was weird. He was like dirty, Fucking lazy, He was a lot. I was like, “Damn what the fuck it's like the longer I stay around the worse it is” But the weirdest part, was that he didn't seem to be aware that he was doing it Either that or he was a really good actor… “What do you mean?” Had me confused. But that's the thing about the whites. They do the whole thing with mind games They fuck with your mind. It's the most powerful weapon, actually— Because if you continually attack a person's mind, The rest crumbles around them without you even touching them. I'm sure this is what my neighbor is trying to do. It's a mind thing I get near the door, she just hurries up and opens her door, opens the door real wide, big apartment, everything's white, big ass fucking place But she's always by the door; Mind games. —Tales of a Superstar DJ. I wasn't really interesting in meeting someone seriously— in fact. As it turned out, I still had a little more muse to milk out of the last one, but even the tarot was being a stickler— I could risk ending it all and putting a nail in the coffin by actually watching The Tonight Show—but there would be a possibility it all would backfire and it would just reignite that spark, or worse—I'd become fully engulfed in flames by whatever it was that seemed to appear—and it seemed to appear so vividly and with rapid strength that it couldn't be stopped or controlled. A serious amount of money had to have been implemented to my paying attention to this, and beyond that— it all had to have been carefully premeditated. While at least now at the bookshop I was drawn to books from Oprah's book club, what had occurred couldn't possibly be ignored—actually, it couldn't be, at all— but instead of eating at me in its usual way, I had more just began to realize that there must have been in play some purpose. Feeling faraway from my actual creative self, there seemed to be something missing at all generating even a general sense of understanding of what normalcy was— when had actually been the last time I had been touched at all in a way that might make me feel as if I was still human— as if I was normal— but I knew I wasn't. It's time for a change. The thought of being with someone, especially just anyone, was bizzare. I gave up on love a lot of times; But this is when it became official. I was listening to a rap album I had never heard before And in this rap song, he said “This hoe got a 7 year degree and still selling pussy” What in the fuck. One way one way ticket Why bother getting a 7 year degree If your value as a black woman Is so low You can get a 7 year degree And still have to be a prostitute? What the fuck is the point. It goes the other way, too. What is the point of selling pussy without a 7 year degree!? She's gonna make more than me in ALL the professions. I gave up on love at all. That right there is how low value we are, not just to the black man, but any man. 7 year degree and you can charge more an hour, but you're still a technical hoe. I want to fucking die. When I married my ex I was pregnant with twins; When i got pregnant with the twins I was about 350 pounds. So by the time we got married, I was 6 months pregnant with twins. He had a right to cheat! I forgave him. But the first time he hit me Like really hit me Not just like A heavy shoving or ike A lil— You know Choke out– Like the real deal Like knocked me the fuck Almost all the way out Saw the white light and everything By the time that all went down I'm like 170-180 He's still, mind you, like 300 I lost weight He lost his mind; so i'm— — lets round up— Like 180 pounds But in my mind i must be thinking somewhere i'm still 300 He came at me with a running start, I put my hands up like: I must have thought i actually had a chance I took a fighting stance like: He said Fphew! PULL A RABBIT OUT A HAT damn . what year is this really? You just got sampled . Say, what's his job? Well, that's an informer. Chris Rock forsure some kind of genius I saw him do GIlbert Godfried And Sam Kinison In the same show. The show was dated, though; He literally said, “I'm married: I don't cheat.” I knew it must have been a joke. I knew it had to be a joke, or it had to be dated, Cause being real, I listen to too much kanye To even believe that Or even laugh at that: Not “too much” kanye— 'Just enough' Kanye, He said, “If I pull up with Kerri washington, That's gon' be an enormous scandal” I might have Niomi Campbell, Still might want me a stormy daniels And ya'll tried to get trumps supporters to turn against him By exposing that he fucked this bitch? That's like an achivement. That's like a status symbol. I'm sure these idiots praise him for that. He might have even gotten more popular! That's not a scandal That's PR. On that note, I think Chris Rock was the very guy Who made me decide to stay single forever: He talked about the way, apparently, men want to kill their wives; The way they fantasise killing us When we're in the relationship: Now, ill say— I never once thought about killing my ex husband During the relationship Even after he hit me. Never once. The only time i started wishing a karmic death upon this person was when I left the relationship And he stopped fantasizing about it And actually tried to fucking kill me. Once I realized this was happening Only then did I start to think “Oh damn, i hope that motherfucker just drops the fuck dead.” This motherfucker beat me, AND tried to kill me, Only then was i like, damn “Return to sender” I hope you die too, You fat piece of shit wifebeater motherfucker I hope you die too. Only after he tried to kill me. After I left. Had to hire a fucking voodoo fucking sorceress and shit “yo , take this curse off me, This motherfucker tried to kill me” Fuck that motherfucker. Apparently though they fantasisze it all the time, I'm thinking about all the times he would play this song iroinically enough, By kanye west So maybe too much Kanye West Or just enough, Kanye said “I thought about killing you today.” He used to play this song, And beat my ass, And I never once thought “I hope he dies” Shit, After the first time he really beat my ass, He ran away. He got scared; He had to run. My face was all hanging off my head and shit Blood all over the place My lip is disconnected from my whole jaw and shit He ran away; He darted out the front door He said “I'm gonna kill myself!” And he rain away– Even then even just after he beat my ass I never thought about killing him Or wanting him to die He just fresh beat my ass; He just straight up finished whooping my whole ass and he said “I'm gonna kill myself” He realized what he did “I'm gonna kill myself”, he said And he ran out the door And here I am With my lip hanging off my whole face Blood all on the walls Pool of blood on the floor, the whole thing babies crying; The whole The whole fucking HBO special The whole nine yards And he said “I'm gonna kill myself” And my dumb ass said “NO! Don't!” He ran out the door, I'm freaking out Blood everywhere Babies crying and shit “Come back! Think about the kids! Don't kill yourself” Like a dumbass. Turns out that was just a tactic, He broke me down good, I was like “Don't kill yourself” He said “...you gonna call the cops.” He said “...alright, I won't kill myself.” Boom. That's a real killer. Looking back on all this, I can't help but think to myself, What i would have done differently Not the whole “I should have left before any of that happened” I was the mother of two young children; I wanted to try after the cheating to make things work, Fast forward after that Turns out he was fantasizing about killing me the whole time He beat mya ass, ran away, Left me in a pool of blood with my two kids He said I'm gonna kill myself Looking back at that momet, The thing I wish I could change is this If i had to do it over again And he beat me like that In front of my kids And then said “I'm gonna kill myself” I would have said “do that shit.” Lock the door behind his ass, Change the lock, Pick my face up off the floor, call an ambulance And the polce, change names Pick up my life And leave forever. “Nigga–who?” “Momma who was our daddy? What was he like?” “Ya'll ain't got a daddy. I made ya'll myself” End of story. Whatever. Everything happens for a reason though. I learned my lesson. Now i don't argue with anyone at all Men, women–nobody If i even sense that same shit That psycho killer shit– I become as silent and invisible as possible And simply Disappear. “Disappear.” I had a migraine and I knew it was from pressure buildup and stress, so I thought to get rid of it I ought to make one of those hot-compresses with rice. But the only rice I had was jambalaya flavored— But the headache was obviously really bad, So I was like, “fuck it.” Poured it into a gym sock And popped it in the microwave, Put it on my neck— My neck smelled like a pot roast, But it worked. {Enter The Multiverse} There was something in my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply, with a raspy wheezing wind out of my lungs, and with a steady cough, I was able to offload whatever it was waiting in my chest to be released, along with it, at least part of the pressure that was making even just sitting and reading nearly unbearable, collecting into a harsh migraine paralyzing each and every other breath with a sharp pain underneath the back of what seemed to be somewhere below my ear canal and somehow, a pressure somewhere behind my eye, probably a result of the excruciating process of shoving earplugs into my ears in order to drown out the outside noise, which paired with that of my seemingly devoid neighbors, often became wildly unsettling, and while lately the clamoring had created not only an uneasy tremor in my left hand, but also apparently a sudden onset of occasional vruxism, the anxiety overall seemed to be surmounting into what could only be described as something trying to kill me, for which I could no longer ignore not as delusions or paranoia, but absolute fact. As I had learned, modern psychology might have been the equivalent of what one could even be certain to be the devil itself, unable to distinguish patterns often associated with creative genius, self manifestation, and psychic abilities and intuition, as delusions of grandeur, paranoid thinking, or worse— diagnoses as psychotic. However, my grandiosity was neither imagined nor delusional—my podcast series alone had been read and listened to all over the world, translated into foreign languages and transcribed, and had been downloaded hundreds of thousands of times since its publishing; though not a technically recognizable figure, I had realized that I had in my own right become somewhat famous, if even off of the back or even under the umbrella of another famous individual, to whom the series itself had been entrusted. Receiving though not by mainstream media standards upwards of at least 10 downloads per episode, the series had no actual gauge or marker for its actual success and polularity—without being able to see information from a major streaming platform—Spotify, and without being able to measure the amount of downloads which had then been duplicated and shared otherwise, I started to recognize with a certain understanding what a cult following was, and the minimal phenomenon that even at this level, fame started to become apparent. It had also become apparent that science itself had yet to truly understand the phenomenon of creative energy as a whole, and that many with these capabilities and gifts were considered to have a plethora of mental health disorders and medicated with what one would consider targeted attacks on the psyche, the illusion of mental illness often standing as the actual delusion in itself! Creating, and then medicating these intrinsic abilities ass illnesses whereby the “neurotypical” individual might only be considered as such due to ability to adapt, confirm, or follow diections in a systematic manner, and furthermore, that the misdiagnoses of such misunderstoodconditions often even relied on bias, poor judgement, racism, social class, and economics had certainly deconstructed any faith or belief formerly held in the modern state of psychology, and most of the articles or public medical journals read more like science fiction and fantasy rather than cold hard facts; indicating a moral and ethical flaw within the entirety of the human species—man's own inability to understand God, and therefore himself, in any creative process. Diety and creativity combined were simply a mystery, and had plagued entire generations of the human spieces as a whole. Blū runs at top speed through the streets of Brooklyn New York on a cold and windy October night. V.O. The ironic thing is, I'm running to go get ice cream. I hate my life, I hate this place, I hate my life— I fucking hate this shit. I'm trying really hard not to kill myself. Like really, really hard. Sudden onset bruxism and hand tremors and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the constant mottoeycle traffic or sleeping in a sea of vehicles which at any given moment could sound off, start up or honk the horn alarm over the last 9 months. I'm fucking exhausted all the time and everything around me just fucking draining. Just fucking draining. https://www.tracklib.com/pricing Yo, you know how I know I'm aging? I hated Dora The Explora when I was a kid— You know why? “That's for babies!” I was too old for Dora the explorer. Mi was a tv snob. I'm like “I hate Dora!” No teletubbies for me. No sir. I'm distinguished now. But get this, As I get older, different renditions of Dora Have grown on me To the point where I actually like the bitch I got older, And there was this girl, Who would show up at raves Dressed like Dora And shuffle, And dance around— Looking like Dora The Explorer Kind of creepy, now that I think about it As an actual adult, Like this, Fully grown woman, Dressed as a fucking 5 year old Dancing around at raves Being Dora. Weird. But I liked it. I loved it. She was a hit; Everybody was like “RAVE DORA! RAVE DORA!” She blew up on Instagram, She had a following— It was like Where will she be next?! RAVE DORA! Had the backpack and everything— Everything! Rave Dora! But now I know I'm getting old, Because I'm fuckin around online, And I see in the advertising little sidebar video Like, a new version of Dora The Explorer, And I'm like “DORAAAAAAAA!!!” —the fuck! I just realized my best friend from 3rd and 7th grade looked just like Dora the explorer. Facts. She became literally the most successful stripper I've ever met. Ahem. Dancer. Right. Dancer. Ahem. Dudes are gross. Doods r gross. Welcome to Doods R Gross; What can I help you find today? Uh, hi. I'm looking for a guy— Uh huh— Possibly one who looks like this: Ah shit, this is how I got playing the Wikipedia game and went on a tirade Facts. Ended up here Unicameralism (from uni- "one" + Latin camera "chamber") is a type of legislatureconsisting of one house or assembly that legislates and votes as one.[1] Unicameralism has become an increasingly common type of legislature, making up nearly 60% of all national legislatures[2] and an even greater share of subnational legislatures. Interesting Started Here: The Fallen Angel (French: L'Ange déchu) is a painting by French artist Alexandre Cabanel. You were saying? Preferably this. Ah huh. Not the face, but— the body— you know. Like this. Okay. Who will let me do everything. Everything as in? Everything. Well, as you know, dudes are gross… Hence the name of this store, good sir. I am in no way good, nor am I a “sir”, and for all intensive purposes, my employment at this store signals my deep indirection in life and may also be an indication of more serious issues. Maintained. Alright, so I'll show you what we got. No promises; The type of model you want is popular, Might be out of stock. Considerable. What's your price range? This credit card has no limit. Credit, or debit? My debit card is also linked to a plethora of infinite wealth. Right this way. Do you think I deserved for him to hit me like that? I don't know. Maybe. I mean—the cheating is a given; I was really really fat..:but do you think like, him getting violent was some kind of karma for something? Maybe. Like maybe I had it coming for whatever reason— and just didn't know it. Maybe. Suddenly I was in the residual memory of a dream. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

KEENAN is the head of the league's research and development team. KEENAN WELL, Ya'll sho' chose the wrong girl to fuck wit! Why do you say that? KEENAN Well, i'mon just let ya'll figure that out on ya own. [KEENEN exits shaking his head solemnly, and begins singing ‘Amazing Grace' , first humming.] Hmmmmm—hmmm—how sweet the sound— Wait! Keenan! Who is this girl?! Who is she?! —hmmm—hmmm—hmmm—hmmmmmmmm LIKE MEEEEEEE! What are we up against Oh. you'll see. I woooonceeee was lost— Wait! SEEYA! [out of nowhere he has pulled out an old style stick bundle and throws it over his shoulder, continuing to hum while chewing on a long stick of straw.] —-hmmmm—-hmmmm. …where is he going!? (Meta) Seems like he's going somewhere with that thing hanging over his back! What are those things even called, anyway? Who knows? I think I know, but it might be racist. [suddenly, offstage/camera a bell begins to ring— One— Two— Three chimes.] That seems odd. Yes, very strange. [Suddenly, all the NBC pages at once upend their nests,] what the— Why are there so many of them. I don't know. Did their skirts get shorter? Hush. So many pages. MEANWHILR, unst 30 Rock. Hold on, pause. These weirdo cops have reverb on their whoop whoops. Facts. Are you sure this is still the 10th dimension. I'm positive. Really! You're sure! Couldn't possibly be lower. Maybe. What about higher. Higher!? Since when. WHAT'S YOUR NAME. Uh-FRANKLIN. Don't lie to me. How would you pronounce this name? I wouldn't. Hm. Excuse me. What. How would you say this? Like, out loud— Uh huh. Pass. Dammit! Hey—uh— RACHEL DRATCH What, dammit; what?! I just sat down with my bagel! I know but— I need your help— interpreting something? What is it? Gibberish? Not really, it's— I'm an expert in Gibberish— I know; but— Classical and neo-modern. Yeah, it's not that. What is it. Alien, I think. Which species. Species. WHICH— ugh— give me that! [she snatches the paper and produces a monocle for further inspection.] Since when did you get a monacle? since when changed insurance companies which supplies said ‘monocologists' and covers such expenses sans-coh-pay. You mean copay? Shut up. Hm. Looks to be Unrealian in orgim but I could be mistaking this dialect. What. Could also possibly be AAHHMEK. Ahmek? Ano, AAAAH— nevermind. Is this an actual apostrophe? Beg your pardon. The apostrophe— is it human derived, or the human pseudo translation replacement for a afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh? Say again. Is it an actual apostrophe, or is the mark mean to insinuate the commonly used extraterrestrial character afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh? …I don't know. WELL, then—I'm afraid I can't help you until you forgive that out— What. Depending on what the mark is, those could be two veerrrrry different things. Would you just, Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to presume the consumption of my RAISINBagel. You know what. -_- -_- -_- …fine. [he snatches the paper and walks away angry—RATCHEL DRATCH begins to shmear her bagel, mumbling] —wants me to translate, but doesn't know the difference between an apostrophe, and a afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh. Please! {Enter The Multiverse} Unlike the girl next door, my lawsuit was legitimate. I strolled passed the usual subjects on my way back to the apartment from my begrudged outings; I had left with the intention of putting my money into a cheap record player, but had after all decided against it—I was saving for a new computer so that I could actually record vocals for my music, which would deplete my budget after living expenses for the month into nothing, and though I knew it would be something like next-to-nothing for the next little while anyway, it wouldn't matter. Now that I knew I was right, I continued compiling the evidence against these motorized terrorists—I didn't actually want to sue, but at this point it seemed it was my only choice— my lowly “status” should not mean that I was allowed to be tortured continually—and, unlike the girl next door, I was not seeking damages for something I had asked for, or brought onto myself; the horrendous sound in the apartment seemed as if it was aimed directly toward me with my synesthesia in mind, and with some amount of pride I refused outright to go the way I was expected to and file a disability claim. I wasn't disabled— I was, however, unable to preform my full work duties as a recording artist without being interrupted by motorcycles, project cars, and otherwise, all of which I suspected were operated by the same group of people— some ugly little brown lackeys who felt entitled in one way or another, and paraded around as if they owned the neighborhood. Benefiting from American business, but anti-American; the opposite of peaceful and respectful—not that America had made its name on the basis of respect, and so it seemed that something, out of balance and off kilter for hundreds of years iknretropect, was bound to change. They were rude, arrogant, and loud—bringing al of the 3rd-world mindset and none of the humility or charm of the actual 3rd world with them; as arrogant as one might think, a gross reflection of the toxic masculine as a whole. They might not have been ugly at all if they were respectful or decent—but they ran about acting like terrorists, revving their engines, and banging, and clashing, and being ugly—employing young boys to stand on the corner and sell their off market drugs after having one of their smoke shops closed down. The more time I spent outside dealing with people at all, the more ill I felt. I craved more time offline and off the grid, and though the general disenchantment of New York would continue pouring through the cheaply made windows, I realized that I would be more well-to-do with a typewriter (so that I could continue to write for long periods of time offline and without my phone) and a record player (to drown out the noise and play along to on my drum machine, and still— there were more things to do, always drowning in bills and often wondering how long I'd have to forfeight health in exchange for the decency of what some might cal luxury, but others foundational. As for myself, these things, simple staples to health and wellness, were beginning to be foundational. {Enter The Multiverse} “As Seen on TV” She doesn't even have a name My pussy is cleaner than a motherfucker This ain't no community like Donald Glover Ya'll niggas actin childish, Gambino— If you wanna turn it on, Then send a c-note (I'm in south side) What she want Peloton What she on peloton What she got peloton What she on Peloton I FOUND KIT! I found KIT. Great, now did you burn that letter? What. Burn it. [does] Oh, that is such a relief. Jesus. Okay. This shit does get weird and deep. —so that's why we're going offline… You wouldn't believe this, I found the kid swinging from a tree. Ridiculous. And if you tie it like this— Ah. Look, it won't slip. So…this is your hobby, huh. One of many. They don't call you the Ace for nothin, do they. (Innocently, with curiosity) “Of Granduer” —Do they? The sound of a chandelier sparkles as the giant lamp swings back and forth, as if an earthquake has just happened. You wouldn't believe this. What. On the television. Okay, so I found this “Kit” guy— Twice. Twice you asked, and twice I told you. Well, I didn't think to look directly at Johnny Carson, exactly. But here— And this: You actually were. Tell me again what your name is. Just sign me an autograph: What. Me? Sure, why not? I want your autograph! Do people still ask for autographs? Often enough. Remarkably, even, at airports, and of course, unexpectedly at— GODDAMMIT, we're back at the rock! GODDAMMIT. Well. Well what! Somebody check what year it is. FUCK. [super long censored beep.] [The Festival Project ™] It was the first time since my childhood I felt like something was too long away—but finally, I was in the final stretch. The Peloton would be delivered sometime in the morning, and now that my internet had shut itself off— I'd refused to pay the bill and opted for getting a new computer so that I could record, rather it— Give me a second, I'm fucking obsessed with these curtains. Bro but second to the curtains is the fucking grass. No, its—tuft. Turf, huh? Interesting… I told you she was some sort of a spy. Whatever. I had long considered turning my living room into a media center, and had thought to reinvent my entire space in fungshuei, but now more than anything I just wanted it to look like that. {Enter The Multiverse} Something is wrong with her . She sits by her door ALL DAY and just fucking talks. And I know she's by her door Because she's RIGHT AT THE DOOR I hear this crystal clear Anytime I go near my door And she's like BLAHBLAHBLAHBLAHBLAH BITCH GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE DOOR somewhere in a parallel of time Your ancestors Are beating the hell Out of my ancestors And your other ancestors Are stealing my other ancestors land You're on borrowed time And in borrowed space GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE DOOR. Man, Living sandwhiched between two Karen's Is like the equivalent Of having two demon fucking little sisters That hate you And tell on your for everything. Slamming doors and shit just to fuckin Throwing shit around Bitch. You are crazy. And that's the thing about white girls Their crazy is socially acceptable As normal behavior I guess when you just have the best things in life thrown at you forever— When things the rest of us consider luxury and opulence is just “regular” to you, You get a little set in your ways. My neighbor is infuriating. I'm like WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS BY THE DOOR SHES LIKE SNARFSNRFSNARF I'm like goddamn, Somebody send like a Camden or a fuckin “Chase” Over this way. Somebody take this bitch on a date And away from the door. Whole two bedroom apartment This bitch is glued to her door. She a robot. The door is metal. She just enters the apartment and gets glued stuck to the door “I guess I will have to snarf snarf from here. “She's a smart one” I don't believe in smart white girls. There's regular white girls And fucking serial killers. The serial killers are considered “the smart ones” I guess it does take a considerable amount of intelligence to just exist to catch bodies That's what they call the smart ones The ones who level up by just Mowing everyone else down. Gotta give them that. White girls will ruin your whole life Blink two little blue-green eyes twice— And if they're big and round enough The brown eyed white girls can get away with the shit, too— But they're fucking murderers. It's okay. I lived with white people long enough in my life to love them. But in living with and around them— I notice they all say the same thing which indicates to me that racial injustice might not actually be their fault— They might be killing niggas on accident. Just complete accidents White people say shit like “I can't feel” What. “How does it feel—to feel.” WHAT?! “Explain to me the concept of ‘emotions'” Ah hell nah— And these people have all the disposable income? It's not their fault. They just— are like that. They're wired different. They can't feel, And their first instinct is to kill everything different or perceivably deadly. It's not their fault It's intrinsically They have extremely fragile genes Very weak gene pools. Have you ever noticed how white people are always sick? Always?! Weak gene pools. Years of breeding narcisistically. Traits that are reminders of themselves, or people they grew up around. This is not racism, it's just science. “Oh, I love blue eyes because my grandmother has blue eyes” White men commonly marry women who remind them of their mothers and sisters. If that's not fucked up, I don't know what is. Then I realized that incest porn and teeny porn are amongst the highest watched types of porn. Hmm. Gee. I wonder why. Men are gross. But white moms need to start being more like black and Hispanic moms if they want to ensure the continuance of their genetics into evolution. You need to give your kids some mommy issues. That way, when they grow up, they feel the need to add variation to the gene pool in order to strengthen it, and move towards evolution. It's true. I lived with maybe the whitest man I ever knew for almost 6 months; I don't think he was specifically intentionally trying to kill me— But everything he did— And I mean everything, up to a certain point was like …I don't know, man. It really seems like this dude is trying to like exterminate me in some sort of way. It was bad. The energy was weird. He was like dirty, Fucking lazy, He was a lot. I was like, “Damn what the fuck it's like the longer I stay around the worse it is” But the weirdest part, was that he didn't seem to be aware that he was doing it Either that or he was a really good actor… “What do you mean?” Had me confused. But that's the thing about the whites. They do the whole thing with mind games They fuck with your mind. It's the most powerful weapon, actually— Because if you continually attack a person's mind, The rest crumbles around them without you even touching them. I'm sure this is what my neighbor is trying to do. It's a mind thing I get near the door, she just hurries up and opens her door, opens the door real wide, big apartment, everything's white, big ass fucking place But she's always by the door; Mind games. —Tales of a Superstar DJ. I wasn't really interesting in meeting someone seriously— in fact. As it turned out, I still had a little more muse to milk out of the last one, but even the tarot was being a stickler— I could risk ending it all and putting a nail in the coffin by actually watching The Tonight Show—but there would be a possibility it all would backfire and it would just reignite that spark, or worse—I'd become fully engulfed in flames by whatever it was that seemed to appear—and it seemed to appear so vividly and with rapid strength that it couldn't be stopped or controlled. A serious amount of money had to have been implemented to my paying attention to this, and beyond that— it all had to have been carefully premeditated. While at least now at the bookshop I was drawn to books from Oprah's book club, what had occurred couldn't possibly be ignored—actually, it couldn't be, at all— but instead of eating at me in its usual way, I had more just began to realize that there must have been in play some purpose. Feeling faraway from my actual creative self, there seemed to be something missing at all generating even a general sense of understanding of what normalcy was— when had actually been the last time I had been touched at all in a way that might make me feel as if I was still human— as if I was normal— but I knew I wasn't. It's time for a change. The thought of being with someone, especially just anyone, was bizzare. I gave up on love a lot of times; But this is when it became official. I was listening to a rap album I had never heard before And in this rap song, he said “This hoe got a 7 year degree and still selling pussy” What in the fuck. One way one way ticket Why bother getting a 7 year degree If your value as a black woman Is so low You can get a 7 year degree And still have to be a prostitute? What the fuck is the point. It goes the other way, too. What is the point of selling pussy without a 7 year degree!? She's gonna make more than me in ALL the professions. I gave up on love at all. That right there is how low value we are, not just to the black man, but any man. 7 year degree and you can charge more an hour, but you're still a technical hoe. I want to fucking die. When I married my ex I was pregnant with twins; When i got pregnant with the twins I was about 350 pounds. So by the time we got married, I was 6 months pregnant with twins. He had a right to cheat! I forgave him. But the first time he hit me Like really hit me Not just like A heavy shoving or ike A lil— You know Choke out– Like the real deal Like knocked me the fuck Almost all the way out Saw the white light and everything By the time that all went down I'm like 170-180 He's still, mind you, like 300 I lost weight He lost his mind; so i'm— — lets round up— Like 180 pounds But in my mind i must be thinking somewhere i'm still 300 He came at me with a running start, I put my hands up like: I must have thought i actually had a chance I took a fighting stance like: He said Fphew! PULL A RABBIT OUT A HAT damn . what year is this really? You just got sampled . Say, what's his job? Well, that's an informer. Chris Rock forsure some kind of genius I saw him do GIlbert Godfried And Sam Kinison In the same show. The show was dated, though; He literally said, “I'm married: I don't cheat.” I knew it must have been a joke. I knew it had to be a joke, or it had to be dated, Cause being real, I listen to too much kanye To even believe that Or even laugh at that: Not “too much” kanye— 'Just enough' Kanye, He said, “If I pull up with Kerri washington, That's gon' be an enormous scandal” I might have Niomi Campbell, Still might want me a stormy daniels And ya'll tried to get trumps supporters to turn against him By exposing that he fucked this bitch? That's like an achivement. That's like a status symbol. I'm sure these idiots praise him for that. He might have even gotten more popular! That's not a scandal That's PR. On that note, I think Chris Rock was the very guy Who made me decide to stay single forever: He talked about the way, apparently, men want to kill their wives; The way they fantasise killing us When we're in the relationship: Now, ill say— I never once thought about killing my ex husband During the relationship Even after he hit me. Never once. The only time i started wishing a karmic death upon this person was when I left the relationship And he stopped fantasizing about it And actually tried to fucking kill me. Once I realized this was happening Only then did I start to think “Oh damn, i hope that motherfucker just drops the fuck dead.” This motherfucker beat me, AND tried to kill me, Only then was i like, damn “Return to sender” I hope you die too, You fat piece of shit wifebeater motherfucker I hope you die too. Only after he tried to kill me. After I left. Had to hire a fucking voodoo fucking sorceress and shit “yo , take this curse off me, This motherfucker tried to kill me” Fuck that motherfucker. Apparently though they fantasisze it all the time, I'm thinking about all the times he would play this song iroinically enough, By kanye west So maybe too much Kanye West Or just enough, Kanye said “I thought about killing you today.” He used to play this song, And beat my ass, And I never once thought “I hope he dies” Shit, After the first time he really beat my ass, He ran away. He got scared; He had to run. My face was all hanging off my head and shit Blood all over the place My lip is disconnected from my whole jaw and shit He ran away; He darted out the front door He said “I'm gonna kill myself!” And he rain away– Even then even just after he beat my ass I never thought about killing him Or wanting him to die He just fresh beat my ass; He just straight up finished whooping my whole ass and he said “I'm gonna kill myself” He realized what he did “I'm gonna kill myself”, he said And he ran out the door And here I am With my lip hanging off my whole face Blood all on the walls Pool of blood on the floor, the whole thing babies crying; The whole The whole fucking HBO special The whole nine yards And he said “I'm gonna kill myself” And my dumb ass said “NO! Don't!” He ran out the door, I'm freaking out Blood everywhere Babies crying and shit “Come back! Think about the kids! Don't kill yourself” Like a dumbass. Turns out that was just a tactic, He broke me down good, I was like “Don't kill yourself” He said “...you gonna call the cops.” He said “...alright, I won't kill myself.” Boom. That's a real killer. Looking back on all this, I can't help but think to myself, What i would have done differently Not the whole “I should have left before any of that happened” I was the mother of two young children; I wanted to try after the cheating to make things work, Fast forward after that Turns out he was fantasizing about killing me the whole time He beat mya ass, ran away, Left me in a pool of blood with my two kids He said I'm gonna kill myself Looking back at that momet, The thing I wish I could change is this If i had to do it over again And he beat me like that In front of my kids And then said “I'm gonna kill myself” I would have said “do that shit.” Lock the door behind his ass, Change the lock, Pick my face up off the floor, call an ambulance And the polce, change names Pick up my life And leave forever. “Nigga–who?” “Momma who was our daddy? What was he like?” “Ya'll ain't got a daddy. I made ya'll myself” End of story. Whatever. Everything happens for a reason though. I learned my lesson. Now i don't argue with anyone at all Men, women–nobody If i even sense that same shit That psycho killer shit– I become as silent and invisible as possible And simply Disappear. “Disappear.” I had a migraine and I knew it was from pressure buildup and stress, so I thought to get rid of it I ought to make one of those hot-compresses with rice. But the only rice I had was jambalaya flavored— But the headache was obviously really bad, So I was like, “fuck it.” Poured it into a gym sock And popped it in the microwave, Put it on my neck— My neck smelled like a pot roast, But it worked. {Enter The Multiverse} There was something in my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply, with a raspy wheezing wind out of my lungs, and with a steady cough, I was able to offload whatever it was waiting in my chest to be released, along with it, at least part of the pressure that was making even just sitting and reading nearly unbearable, collecting into a harsh migraine paralyzing each and every other breath with a sharp pain underneath the back of what seemed to be somewhere below my ear canal and somehow, a pressure somewhere behind my eye, probably a result of the excruciating process of shoving earplugs into my ears in order to drown out the outside noise, which paired with that of my seemingly devoid neighbors, often became wildly unsettling, and while lately the clamoring had created not only an uneasy tremor in my left hand, but also apparently a sudden onset of occasional vruxism, the anxiety overall seemed to be surmounting into what could only be described as something trying to kill me, for which I could no longer ignore not as delusions or paranoia, but absolute fact. As I had learned, modern psychology might have been the equivalent of what one could even be certain to be the devil itself, unable to distinguish patterns often associated with creative genius, self manifestation, and psychic abilities and intuition, as delusions of grandeur, paranoid thinking, or worse— diagnoses as psychotic. However, my grandiosity was neither imagined nor delusional—my podcast series alone had been read and listened to all over the world, translated into foreign languages and transcribed, and had been downloaded hundreds of thousands of times since its publishing; though not a technically recognizable figure, I had realized that I had in my own right become somewhat famous, if even off of the back or even under the umbrella of another famous individual, to whom the series itself had been entrusted. Receiving though not by mainstream media standards upwards of at least 10 downloads per episode, the series had no actual gauge or marker for its actual success and polularity—without being able to see information from a major streaming platform—Spotify, and without being able to measure the amount of downloads which had then been duplicated and shared otherwise, I started to recognize with a certain understanding what a cult following was, and the minimal phenomenon that even at this level, fame started to become apparent. It had also become apparent that science itself had yet to truly understand the phenomenon of creative energy as a whole, and that many with these capabilities and gifts were considered to have a plethora of mental health disorders and medicated with what one would consider targeted attacks on the psyche, the illusion of mental illness often standing as the actual delusion in itself! Creating, and then medicating these intrinsic abilities ass illnesses whereby the “neurotypical” individual might only be considered as such due to ability to adapt, confirm, or follow diections in a systematic manner, and furthermore, that the misdiagnoses of such misunderstoodconditions often even relied on bias, poor judgement, racism, social class, and economics had certainly deconstructed any faith or belief formerly held in the modern state of psychology, and most of the articles or public medical journals read more like science fiction and fantasy rather than cold hard facts; indicating a moral and ethical flaw within the entirety of the human species—man's own inability to understand God, and therefore himself, in any creative process. Diety and creativity combined were simply a mystery, and had plagued entire generations of the human spieces as a whole. Blū runs at top speed through the streets of Brooklyn New York on a cold and windy October night. V.O. The ironic thing is, I'm running to go get ice cream. I hate my life, I hate this place, I hate my life— I fucking hate this shit. I'm trying really hard not to kill myself. Like really, really hard. Sudden onset bruxism and hand tremors and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the constant mottoeycle traffic or sleeping in a sea of vehicles which at any given moment could sound off, start up or honk the horn alarm over the last 9 months. I'm fucking exhausted all the time and everything around me just fucking draining. Just fucking draining. https://www.tracklib.com/pricing Yo, you know how I know I'm aging? I hated Dora The Explora when I was a kid— You know why? “That's for babies!” I was too old for Dora the explorer. Mi was a tv snob. I'm like “I hate Dora!” No teletubbies for me. No sir. I'm distinguished now. But get this, As I get older, different renditions of Dora Have grown on me To the point where I actually like the bitch I got older, And there was this girl, Who would show up at raves Dressed like Dora And shuffle, And dance around— Looking like Dora The Explorer Kind of creepy, now that I think about it As an actual adult, Like this, Fully grown woman, Dressed as a fucking 5 year old Dancing around at raves Being Dora. Weird. But I liked it. I loved it. She was a hit; Everybody was like “RAVE DORA! RAVE DORA!” She blew up on Instagram, She had a following— It was like Where will she be next?! RAVE DORA! Had the backpack and everything— Everything! Rave Dora! But now I know I'm getting old, Because I'm fuckin around online, And I see in the advertising little sidebar video Like, a new version of Dora The Explorer, And I'm like “DORAAAAAAAA!!!” —the fuck! I just realized my best friend from 3rd and 7th grade looked just like Dora the explorer. Facts. She became literally the most successful stripper I've ever met. Ahem. Dancer. Right. Dancer. Ahem. Dudes are gross. Doods r gross. Welcome to Doods R Gross; What can I help you find today? Uh, hi. I'm looking for a guy— Uh huh— Possibly one who looks like this: Ah shit, this is how I got playing the Wikipedia game and went on a tirade Facts. Ended up here Unicameralism (from uni- "one" + Latin camera "chamber") is a type of legislatureconsisting of one house or assembly that legislates and votes as one.[1] Unicameralism has become an increasingly common type of legislature, making up nearly 60% of all national legislatures[2] and an even greater share of subnational legislatures. Interesting Started Here: The Fallen Angel (French: L'Ange déchu) is a painting by French artist Alexandre Cabanel. You were saying? Preferably this. Ah huh. Not the face, but— the body— you know. Like this. Okay. Who will let me do everything. Everything as in? Everything. Well, as you know, dudes are gross… Hence the name of this store, good sir. I am in no way good, nor am I a “sir”, and for all intensive purposes, my employment at this store signals my deep indirection in life and may also be an indication of more serious issues. Maintained. Alright, so I'll show you what we got. No promises; The type of model you want is popular, Might be out of stock. Considerable. What's your price range? This credit card has no limit. Credit, or debit? My debit card is also linked to a plethora of infinite wealth. Right this way. Do you think I deserved for him to hit me like that? I don't know. Maybe. I mean—the cheating is a given; I was really really fat..:but do you think like, him getting violent was some kind of karma for something? Maybe. Like maybe I had it coming for whatever reason— and just didn't know it. Maybe. Suddenly I was in the residual memory of a dream. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

KEENAN is the head of the league's research and development team. KEENAN WELL, Ya'll sho' chose the wrong girl to fuck wit! Why do you say that? KEENAN Well, i'mon just let ya'll figure that out on ya own. [KEENEN exits shaking his head solemnly, and begins singing ‘Amazing Grace' , first humming.] Hmmmmm—hmmm—how sweet the sound— Wait! Keenan! Who is this girl?! Who is she?! —hmmm—hmmm—hmmm—hmmmmmmmm LIKE MEEEEEEE! What are we up against Oh. you'll see. I woooonceeee was lost— Wait! SEEYA! [out of nowhere he has pulled out an old style stick bundle and throws it over his shoulder, continuing to hum while chewing on a long stick of straw.] —-hmmmm—-hmmmm. …where is he going!? (Meta) Seems like he's going somewhere with that thing hanging over his back! What are those things even called, anyway? Who knows? I think I know, but it might be racist. [suddenly, offstage/camera a bell begins to ring— One— Two— Three chimes.] That seems odd. Yes, very strange. [Suddenly, all the NBC pages at once upend their nests,] what the— Why are there so many of them. I don't know. Did their skirts get shorter? Hush. So many pages. MEANWHILR, unst 30 Rock. Hold on, pause. These weirdo cops have reverb on their whoop whoops. Facts. Are you sure this is still the 10th dimension. I'm positive. Really! You're sure! Couldn't possibly be lower. Maybe. What about higher. Higher!? Since when. WHAT'S YOUR NAME. Uh-FRANKLIN. Don't lie to me. How would you pronounce this name? I wouldn't. Hm. Excuse me. What. How would you say this? Like, out loud— Uh huh. Pass. Dammit! Hey—uh— RACHEL DRATCH What, dammit; what?! I just sat down with my bagel! I know but— I need your help— interpreting something? What is it? Gibberish? Not really, it's— I'm an expert in Gibberish— I know; but— Classical and neo-modern. Yeah, it's not that. What is it. Alien, I think. Which species. Species. WHICH— ugh— give me that! [she snatches the paper and produces a monocle for further inspection.] Since when did you get a monacle? since when changed insurance companies which supplies said ‘monocologists' and covers such expenses sans-coh-pay. You mean copay? Shut up. Hm. Looks to be Unrealian in orgim but I could be mistaking this dialect. What. Could also possibly be AAHHMEK. Ahmek? Ano, AAAAH— nevermind. Is this an actual apostrophe? Beg your pardon. The apostrophe— is it human derived, or the human pseudo translation replacement for a afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh? Say again. Is it an actual apostrophe, or is the mark mean to insinuate the commonly used extraterrestrial character afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh? …I don't know. WELL, then—I'm afraid I can't help you until you forgive that out— What. Depending on what the mark is, those could be two veerrrrry different things. Would you just, Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to presume the consumption of my RAISINBagel. You know what. -_- -_- -_- …fine. [he snatches the paper and walks away angry—RATCHEL DRATCH begins to shmear her bagel, mumbling] —wants me to translate, but doesn't know the difference between an apostrophe, and a afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh. Please! {Enter The Multiverse} Unlike the girl next door, my lawsuit was legitimate. I strolled passed the usual subjects on my way back to the apartment from my begrudged outings; I had left with the intention of putting my money into a cheap record player, but had after all decided against it—I was saving for a new computer so that I could actually record vocals for my music, which would deplete my budget after living expenses for the month into nothing, and though I knew it would be something like next-to-nothing for the next little while anyway, it wouldn't matter. Now that I knew I was right, I continued compiling the evidence against these motorized terrorists—I didn't actually want to sue, but at this point it seemed it was my only choice— my lowly “status” should not mean that I was allowed to be tortured continually—and, unlike the girl next door, I was not seeking damages for something I had asked for, or brought onto myself; the horrendous sound in the apartment seemed as if it was aimed directly toward me with my synesthesia in mind, and with some amount of pride I refused outright to go the way I was expected to and file a disability claim. I wasn't disabled— I was, however, unable to preform my full work duties as a recording artist without being interrupted by motorcycles, project cars, and otherwise, all of which I suspected were operated by the same group of people— some ugly little brown lackeys who felt entitled in one way or another, and paraded around as if they owned the neighborhood. Benefiting from American business, but anti-American; the opposite of peaceful and respectful—not that America had made its name on the basis of respect, and so it seemed that something, out of balance and off kilter for hundreds of years iknretropect, was bound to change. They were rude, arrogant, and loud—bringing al of the 3rd-world mindset and none of the humility or charm of the actual 3rd world with them; as arrogant as one might think, a gross reflection of the toxic masculine as a whole. They might not have been ugly at all if they were respectful or decent—but they ran about acting like terrorists, revving their engines, and banging, and clashing, and being ugly—employing young boys to stand on the corner and sell their off market drugs after having one of their smoke shops closed down. The more time I spent outside dealing with people at all, the more ill I felt. I craved more time offline and off the grid, and though the general disenchantment of New York would continue pouring through the cheaply made windows, I realized that I would be more well-to-do with a typewriter (so that I could continue to write for long periods of time offline and without my phone) and a record player (to drown out the noise and play along to on my drum machine, and still— there were more things to do, always drowning in bills and often wondering how long I'd have to forfeight health in exchange for the decency of what some might cal luxury, but others foundational. As for myself, these things, simple staples to health and wellness, were beginning to be foundational. {Enter The Multiverse} “As Seen on TV” She doesn't even have a name My pussy is cleaner than a motherfucker This ain't no community like Donald Glover Ya'll niggas actin childish, Gambino— If you wanna turn it on, Then send a c-note (I'm in south side) What she want Peloton What she on peloton What she got peloton What she on Peloton I FOUND KIT! I found KIT. Great, now did you burn that letter? What. Burn it. [does] Oh, that is such a relief. Jesus. Okay. This shit does get weird and deep. —so that's why we're going offline… You wouldn't believe this, I found the kid swinging from a tree. Ridiculous. And if you tie it like this— Ah. Look, it won't slip. So…this is your hobby, huh. One of many. They don't call you the Ace for nothin, do they. (Innocently, with curiosity) “Of Granduer” —Do they? The sound of a chandelier sparkles as the giant lamp swings back and forth, as if an earthquake has just happened. You wouldn't believe this. What. On the television. Okay, so I found this “Kit” guy— Twice. Twice you asked, and twice I told you. Well, I didn't think to look directly at Johnny Carson, exactly. But here— And this: You actually were. Tell me again what your name is. Just sign me an autograph: What. Me? Sure, why not? I want your autograph! Do people still ask for autographs? Often enough. Remarkably, even, at airports, and of course, unexpectedly at— GODDAMMIT, we're back at the rock! GODDAMMIT. Well. Well what! Somebody check what year it is. FUCK. [super long censored beep.] [The Festival Project ™] It was the first time since my childhood I felt like something was too long away—but finally, I was in the final stretch. The Peloton would be delivered sometime in the morning, and now that my internet had shut itself off— I'd refused to pay the bill and opted for getting a new computer so that I could record, rather it— Give me a second, I'm fucking obsessed with these curtains. Bro but second to the curtains is the fucking grass. No, its—tuft. Turf, huh? Interesting… I told you she was some sort of a spy. Whatever. I had long considered turning my living room into a media center, and had thought to reinvent my entire space in fungshuei, but now more than anything I just wanted it to look like that. {Enter The Multiverse} Something is wrong with her . She sits by her door ALL DAY and just fucking talks. And I know she's by her door Because she's RIGHT AT THE DOOR I hear this crystal clear Anytime I go near my door And she's like BLAHBLAHBLAHBLAHBLAH BITCH GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE DOOR somewhere in a parallel of time Your ancestors Are beating the hell Out of my ancestors And your other ancestors Are stealing my other ancestors land You're on borrowed time And in borrowed space GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE DOOR. Man, Living sandwhiched between two Karen's Is like the equivalent Of having two demon fucking little sisters That hate you And tell on your for everything. Slamming doors and shit just to fuckin Throwing shit around Bitch. You are crazy. And that's the thing about white girls Their crazy is socially acceptable As normal behavior I guess when you just have the best things in life thrown at you forever— When things the rest of us consider luxury and opulence is just “regular” to you, You get a little set in your ways. My neighbor is infuriating. I'm like WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS BY THE DOOR SHES LIKE SNARFSNRFSNARF I'm like goddamn, Somebody send like a Camden or a fuckin “Chase” Over this way. Somebody take this bitch on a date And away from the door. Whole two bedroom apartment This bitch is glued to her door. She a robot. The door is metal. She just enters the apartment and gets glued stuck to the door “I guess I will have to snarf snarf from here. “She's a smart one” I don't believe in smart white girls. There's regular white girls And fucking serial killers. The serial killers are considered “the smart ones” I guess it does take a considerable amount of intelligence to just exist to catch bodies That's what they call the smart ones The ones who level up by just Mowing everyone else down. Gotta give them that. White girls will ruin your whole life Blink two little blue-green eyes twice— And if they're big and round enough The brown eyed white girls can get away with the shit, too— But they're fucking murderers. It's okay. I lived with white people long enough in my life to love them. But in living with and around them— I notice they all say the same thing which indicates to me that racial injustice might not actually be their fault— They might be killing niggas on accident. Just complete accidents White people say shit like “I can't feel” What. “How does it feel—to feel.” WHAT?! “Explain to me the concept of ‘emotions'” Ah hell nah— And these people have all the disposable income? It's not their fault. They just— are like that. They're wired different. They can't feel, And their first instinct is to kill everything different or perceivably deadly. It's not their fault It's intrinsically They have extremely fragile genes Very weak gene pools. Have you ever noticed how white people are always sick? Always?! Weak gene pools. Years of breeding narcisistically. Traits that are reminders of themselves, or people they grew up around. This is not racism, it's just science. “Oh, I love blue eyes because my grandmother has blue eyes” White men commonly marry women who remind them of their mothers and sisters. If that's not fucked up, I don't know what is. Then I realized that incest porn and teeny porn are amongst the highest watched types of porn. Hmm. Gee. I wonder why. Men are gross. But white moms need to start being more like black and Hispanic moms if they want to ensure the continuance of their genetics into evolution. You need to give your kids some mommy issues. That way, when they grow up, they feel the need to add variation to the gene pool in order to strengthen it, and move towards evolution. It's true. I lived with maybe the whitest man I ever knew for almost 6 months; I don't think he was specifically intentionally trying to kill me— But everything he did— And I mean everything, up to a certain point was like …I don't know, man. It really seems like this dude is trying to like exterminate me in some sort of way. It was bad. The energy was weird. He was like dirty, Fucking lazy, He was a lot. I was like, “Damn what the fuck it's like the longer I stay around the worse it is” But the weirdest part, was that he didn't seem to be aware that he was doing it Either that or he was a really good actor… “What do you mean?” Had me confused. But that's the thing about the whites. They do the whole thing with mind games They fuck with your mind. It's the most powerful weapon, actually— Because if you continually attack a person's mind, The rest crumbles around them without you even touching them. I'm sure this is what my neighbor is trying to do. It's a mind thing I get near the door, she just hurries up and opens her door, opens the door real wide, big apartment, everything's white, big ass fucking place But she's always by the door; Mind games. —Tales of a Superstar DJ. I wasn't really interesting in meeting someone seriously— in fact. As it turned out, I still had a little more muse to milk out of the last one, but even the tarot was being a stickler— I could risk ending it all and putting a nail in the coffin by actually watching The Tonight Show—but there would be a possibility it all would backfire and it would just reignite that spark, or worse—I'd become fully engulfed in flames by whatever it was that seemed to appear—and it seemed to appear so vividly and with rapid strength that it couldn't be stopped or controlled. A serious amount of money had to have been implemented to my paying attention to this, and beyond that— it all had to have been carefully premeditated. While at least now at the bookshop I was drawn to books from Oprah's book club, what had occurred couldn't possibly be ignored—actually, it couldn't be, at all— but instead of eating at me in its usual way, I had more just began to realize that there must have been in play some purpose. Feeling faraway from my actual creative self, there seemed to be something missing at all generating even a general sense of understanding of what normalcy was— when had actually been the last time I had been touched at all in a way that might make me feel as if I was still human— as if I was normal— but I knew I wasn't. It's time for a change. The thought of being with someone, especially just anyone, was bizzare. I gave up on love a lot of times; But this is when it became official. I was listening to a rap album I had never heard before And in this rap song, he said “This hoe got a 7 year degree and still selling pussy” What in the fuck. One way one way ticket Why bother getting a 7 year degree If your value as a black woman Is so low You can get a 7 year degree And still have to be a prostitute? What the fuck is the point. It goes the other way, too. What is the point of selling pussy without a 7 year degree!? She's gonna make more than me in ALL the professions. I gave up on love at all. That right there is how low value we are, not just to the black man, but any man. 7 year degree and you can charge more an hour, but you're still a technical hoe. I want to fucking die. When I married my ex I was pregnant with twins; When i got pregnant with the twins I was about 350 pounds. So by the time we got married, I was 6 months pregnant with twins. He had a right to cheat! I forgave him. But the first time he hit me Like really hit me Not just like A heavy shoving or ike A lil— You know Choke out– Like the real deal Like knocked me the fuck Almost all the way out Saw the white light and everything By the time that all went down I'm like 170-180 He's still, mind you, like 300 I lost weight He lost his mind; so i'm— — lets round up— Like 180 pounds But in my mind i must be thinking somewhere i'm still 300 He came at me with a running start, I put my hands up like: I must have thought i actually had a chance I took a fighting stance like: He said Fphew! PULL A RABBIT OUT A HAT damn . what year is this really? You just got sampled . Say, what's his job? Well, that's an informer. Chris Rock forsure some kind of genius I saw him do GIlbert Godfried And Sam Kinison In the same show. The show was dated, though; He literally said, “I'm married: I don't cheat.” I knew it must have been a joke. I knew it had to be a joke, or it had to be dated, Cause being real, I listen to too much kanye To even believe that Or even laugh at that: Not “too much” kanye— 'Just enough' Kanye, He said, “If I pull up with Kerri washington, That's gon' be an enormous scandal” I might have Niomi Campbell, Still might want me a stormy daniels And ya'll tried to get trumps supporters to turn against him By exposing that he fucked this bitch? That's like an achivement. That's like a status symbol. I'm sure these idiots praise him for that. He might have even gotten more popular! That's not a scandal That's PR. On that note, I think Chris Rock was the very guy Who made me decide to stay single forever: He talked about the way, apparently, men want to kill their wives; The way they fantasise killing us When we're in the relationship: Now, ill say— I never once thought about killing my ex husband During the relationship Even after he hit me. Never once. The only time i started wishing a karmic death upon this person was when I left the relationship And he stopped fantasizing about it And actually tried to fucking kill me. Once I realized this was happening Only then did I start to think “Oh damn, i hope that motherfucker just drops the fuck dead.” This motherfucker beat me, AND tried to kill me, Only then was i like, damn “Return to sender” I hope you die too, You fat piece of shit wifebeater motherfucker I hope you die too. Only after he tried to kill me. After I left. Had to hire a fucking voodoo fucking sorceress and shit “yo , take this curse off me, This motherfucker tried to kill me” Fuck that motherfucker. Apparently though they fantasisze it all the time, I'm thinking about all the times he would play this song iroinically enough, By kanye west So maybe too much Kanye West Or just enough, Kanye said “I thought about killing you today.” He used to play this song, And beat my ass, And I never once thought “I hope he dies” Shit, After the first time he really beat my ass, He ran away. He got scared; He had to run. My face was all hanging off my head and shit Blood all over the place My lip is disconnected from my whole jaw and shit He ran away; He darted out the front door He said “I'm gonna kill myself!” And he rain away– Even then even just after he beat my ass I never thought about killing him Or wanting him to die He just fresh beat my ass; He just straight up finished whooping my whole ass and he said “I'm gonna kill myself” He realized what he did “I'm gonna kill myself”, he said And he ran out the door And here I am With my lip hanging off my whole face Blood all on the walls Pool of blood on the floor, the whole thing babies crying; The whole The whole fucking HBO special The whole nine yards And he said “I'm gonna kill myself” And my dumb ass said “NO! Don't!” He ran out the door, I'm freaking out Blood everywhere Babies crying and shit “Come back! Think about the kids! Don't kill yourself” Like a dumbass. Turns out that was just a tactic, He broke me down good, I was like “Don't kill yourself” He said “...you gonna call the cops.” He said “...alright, I won't kill myself.” Boom. That's a real killer. Looking back on all this, I can't help but think to myself, What i would have done differently Not the whole “I should have left before any of that happened” I was the mother of two young children; I wanted to try after the cheating to make things work, Fast forward after that Turns out he was fantasizing about killing me the whole time He beat mya ass, ran away, Left me in a pool of blood with my two kids He said I'm gonna kill myself Looking back at that momet, The thing I wish I could change is this If i had to do it over again And he beat me like that In front of my kids And then said “I'm gonna kill myself” I would have said “do that shit.” Lock the door behind his ass, Change the lock, Pick my face up off the floor, call an ambulance And the polce, change names Pick up my life And leave forever. “Nigga–who?” “Momma who was our daddy? What was he like?” “Ya'll ain't got a daddy. I made ya'll myself” End of story. Whatever. Everything happens for a reason though. I learned my lesson. Now i don't argue with anyone at all Men, women–nobody If i even sense that same shit That psycho killer shit– I become as silent and invisible as possible And simply Disappear. “Disappear.” I had a migraine and I knew it was from pressure buildup and stress, so I thought to get rid of it I ought to make one of those hot-compresses with rice. But the only rice I had was jambalaya flavored— But the headache was obviously really bad, So I was like, “fuck it.” Poured it into a gym sock And popped it in the microwave, Put it on my neck— My neck smelled like a pot roast, But it worked. {Enter The Multiverse} There was something in my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply, with a raspy wheezing wind out of my lungs, and with a steady cough, I was able to offload whatever it was waiting in my chest to be released, along with it, at least part of the pressure that was making even just sitting and reading nearly unbearable, collecting into a harsh migraine paralyzing each and every other breath with a sharp pain underneath the back of what seemed to be somewhere below my ear canal and somehow, a pressure somewhere behind my eye, probably a result of the excruciating process of shoving earplugs into my ears in order to drown out the outside noise, which paired with that of my seemingly devoid neighbors, often became wildly unsettling, and while lately the clamoring had created not only an uneasy tremor in my left hand, but also apparently a sudden onset of occasional vruxism, the anxiety overall seemed to be surmounting into what could only be described as something trying to kill me, for which I could no longer ignore not as delusions or paranoia, but absolute fact. As I had learned, modern psychology might have been the equivalent of what one could even be certain to be the devil itself, unable to distinguish patterns often associated with creative genius, self manifestation, and psychic abilities and intuition, as delusions of grandeur, paranoid thinking, or worse— diagnoses as psychotic. However, my grandiosity was neither imagined nor delusional—my podcast series alone had been read and listened to all over the world, translated into foreign languages and transcribed, and had been downloaded hundreds of thousands of times since its publishing; though not a technically recognizable figure, I had realized that I had in my own right become somewhat famous, if even off of the back or even under the umbrella of another famous individual, to whom the series itself had been entrusted. Receiving though not by mainstream media standards upwards of at least 10 downloads per episode, the series had no actual gauge or marker for its actual success and polularity—without being able to see information from a major streaming platform—Spotify, and without being able to measure the amount of downloads which had then been duplicated and shared otherwise, I started to recognize with a certain understanding what a cult following was, and the minimal phenomenon that even at this level, fame started to become apparent. It had also become apparent that science itself had yet to truly understand the phenomenon of creative energy as a whole, and that many with these capabilities and gifts were considered to have a plethora of mental health disorders and medicated with what one would consider targeted attacks on the psyche, the illusion of mental illness often standing as the actual delusion in itself! Creating, and then medicating these intrinsic abilities ass illnesses whereby the “neurotypical” individual might only be considered as such due to ability to adapt, confirm, or follow diections in a systematic manner, and furthermore, that the misdiagnoses of such misunderstood cobditions often even relied on bias, poor judgement, racism, social class, and economics had certainly deconstructed any faith or belief formerly held in the modern state of psychology, and most of the articles or public medical journals read more like science fiction and fantasy rather than cold hard facts; indicating a moral and ethical flaw within the entirety of the human species—man's own inability to understand God, and therefore himself, in any creative process. Diety and creativity combined were simply a mystery, and had plagued entire generations of the human spieces as a whole. Blū runs at top speed through the streets of Brooklyn New York on a cold and windy October night. V.O. The ironic thing is, I'm running to go get ice cream. I hate my life, I hate this place, I hate my life— I fucking hate this shit. I'm trying really hard not to kill myself. Like really, really hard. Sudden onset bruxism and hand tremors and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the constant mottoeycle traffic or sleeping in a sea of vehicles which at any given moment could sound off, start up or honk the horn alarm over the last 9 months. I'm fucking exhausted all the time and everything around me just fucking draining. Just fucking draining. https://www.tracklib.com/pricing Yo, you know how I know I'm aging? I hated Dora The Explora when I was a kid— You know why? “That's for babies!” I was too old for Dora the explorer. Mi was a tv snob. I'm like “I hate Dora!” No teletubbies for me. No sir. I'm distinguished now. But get this, As I get older, different renditions of Dora Have grown on me To the point where I actually like the bitch I got older, And there was this girl, Who would show up at raves Dressed like Dora And shuffle, And dance around— Looking like Dora The Explorer Kind of creepy, now that I think about it As an actual adult, Like this, Fully grown woman, Dressed as a fucking 5 year old Dancing around at raves Being Dora. Weird. But I liked it. I loved it. She was a hit; Everybody was like “RAVE DORA! RAVE DORA!” She blew up on Instagram, She had a following— It was like Where will she be next?! RAVE DORA! Had the backpack and everything— Everything! Rave Dora! But now I know I'm getting old, Because I'm fuckin around online, And I see in the advertising little sidebar video Like, a new version of Dora The Explorer, And I'm like “DORAAAAAAAA!!!” —the fuck! I just realized my best friend from 3rd and 7th grade looked just like Dora the explorer. Facts. She became literally the most successful stripper I've ever met. Ahem. Dancer. Right. Dancer. Ahem. Dudes are gross. Doods r gross. Welcome to Doods R Gross; What can I help you find today? Uh, hi. I'm looking for a guy— Uh huh— Possibly one who looks like this: Ah shit, this is how I got playing the Wikipedia game and went on a tirade Facts. Ended up here Unicameralism (from uni- "one" + Latin camera "chamber") is a type of legislatureconsisting of one house or assembly that legislates and votes as one.[1] Unicameralism has become an increasingly common type of legislature, making up nearly 60% of all national legislatures[2] and an even greater share of subnational legislatures. Interesting Started Here: The Fallen Angel (French: L'Ange déchu) is a painting by French artist Alexandre Cabanel. You were saying? Preferably this. Ah huh. Not the face, but— the body— you know. Like this. Okay. Who will let me do everything. Everything as in? Everything. Well, as you know, dudes are gross… Hence the name of this store, good sir. I am in no way good, nor am I a “sir”, and for all intensive purposes, my employment at this store signals my deep indirection in life and may also be an indication of more serious issues. Maintained. Alright, so I'll show you what we got. No promises; The type of model you want is popular, Might be out of stock. Considerable. What's your price range? This credit card has no limit. Credit, or debit? My debit card is also linked to a plethora of infinite wealth. Right this way. Do you think I deserved for him to hit me like that? I don't know. Maybe. I mean—the cheating is a given; I was really really fat..:but do you think like, him getting violent was some kind of karma for something? Maybe. Like maybe I had it coming for whatever reason— and just didn't know it. Maybe. Suddenly I was in the residual memory of a dream. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

KEENAN is the head of the league's research and development team. KEENAN WELL, Ya'll sho' chose the wrong girl to fuck wit! Why do you say that? KEENAN Well, i'mon just let ya'll figure that out on ya own. [KEENEN exits shaking his head solemnly, and begins singing ‘Amazing Grace' , first humming.] Hmmmmm—hmmm—how sweet the sound— Wait! Keenan! Who is this girl?! Who is she?! —hmmm—hmmm—hmmm—hmmmmmmmm LIKE MEEEEEEE! What are we up against Oh. you'll see. I woooonceeee was lost— Wait! SEEYA! [out of nowhere he has pulled out an old style stick bundle and throws it over his shoulder, continuing to hum while chewing on a long stick of straw.] —-hmmmm—-hmmmm. …where is he going!? (Meta) Seems like he's going somewhere with that thing hanging over his back! What are those things even called, anyway? Who knows? I think I know, but it might be racist. [suddenly, offstage/camera a bell begins to ring— One— Two— Three chimes.] That seems odd. Yes, very strange. [Suddenly, all the NBC pages at once upend their nests,] what the— Why are there so many of them. I don't know. Did their skirts get shorter? Hush. So many pages. MEANWHILR, unst 30 Rock. Hold on, pause. These weirdo cops have reverb on their whoop whoops. Facts. Are you sure this is still the 10th dimension. I'm positive. Really! You're sure! Couldn't possibly be lower. Maybe. What about higher. Higher!? Since when. WHAT'S YOUR NAME. Uh-FRANKLIN. Don't lie to me. How would you pronounce this name? I wouldn't. Hm. Excuse me. What. How would you say this? Like, out loud— Uh huh. Pass. Dammit! Hey—uh— RACHEL DRATCH What, dammit; what?! I just sat down with my bagel! I know but— I need your help— interpreting something? What is it? Gibberish? Not really, it's— I'm an expert in Gibberish— I know; but— Classical and neo-modern. Yeah, it's not that. What is it. Alien, I think. Which species. Species. WHICH— ugh— give me that! [she snatches the paper and produces a monocle for further inspection.] Since when did you get a monacle? since when changed insurance companies which supplies said ‘monocologists' and covers such expenses sans-coh-pay. You mean copay? Shut up. Hm. Looks to be Unrealian in orgim but I could be mistaking this dialect. What. Could also possibly be AAHHMEK. Ahmek? Ano, AAAAH— nevermind. Is this an actual apostrophe? Beg your pardon. The apostrophe— is it human derived, or the human pseudo translation replacement for a afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh? Say again. Is it an actual apostrophe, or is the mark mean to insinuate the commonly used extraterrestrial character afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh? …I don't know. WELL, then—I'm afraid I can't help you until you forgive that out— What. Depending on what the mark is, those could be two veerrrrry different things. Would you just, Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to presume the consumption of my RAISINBagel. You know what. -_- -_- -_- …fine. [he snatches the paper and walks away angry—RATCHEL DRATCH begins to shmear her bagel, mumbling] —wants me to translate, but doesn't know the difference between an apostrophe, and a afahmblunsenphOuallentprprh. Please! {Enter The Multiverse} Unlike the girl next door, my lawsuit was legitimate. I strolled passed the usual subjects on my way back to the apartment from my begrudged outings; I had left with the intention of putting my money into a cheap record player, but had after all decided against it—I was saving for a new computer so that I could actually record vocals for my music, which would deplete my budget after living expenses for the month into nothing, and though I knew it would be something like next-to-nothing for the next little while anyway, it wouldn't matter. Now that I knew I was right, I continued compiling the evidence against these motorized terrorists—I didn't actually want to sue, but at this point it seemed it was my only choice— my lowly “status” should not mean that I was allowed to be tortured continually—and, unlike the girl next door, I was not seeking damages for something I had asked for, or brought onto myself; the horrendous sound in the apartment seemed as if it was aimed directly toward me with my synesthesia in mind, and with some amount of pride I refused outright to go the way I was expected to and file a disability claim. I wasn't disabled— I was, however, unable to preform my full work duties as a recording artist without being interrupted by motorcycles, project cars, and otherwise, all of which I suspected were operated by the same group of people— some ugly little brown lackeys who felt entitled in one way or another, and paraded around as if they owned the neighborhood. Benefiting from American business, but anti-American; the opposite of peaceful and respectful—not that America had made its name on the basis of respect, and so it seemed that something, out of balance and off kilter for hundreds of years iknretropect, was bound to change. They were rude, arrogant, and loud—bringing al of the 3rd-world mindset and none of the humility or charm of the actual 3rd world with them; as arrogant as one might think, a gross reflection of the toxic masculine as a whole. They might not have been ugly at all if they were respectful or decent—but they ran about acting like terrorists, revving their engines, and banging, and clashing, and being ugly—employing young boys to stand on the corner and sell their off market drugs after having one of their smoke shops closed down. The more time I spent outside dealing with people at all, the more ill I felt. I craved more time offline and off the grid, and though the general disenchantment of New York would continue pouring through the cheaply made windows, I realized that I would be more well-to-do with a typewriter (so that I could continue to write for long periods of time offline and without my phone) and a record player (to drown out the noise and play along to on my drum machine, and still— there were more things to do, always drowning in bills and often wondering how long I'd have to forfeight health in exchange for the decency of what some might cal luxury, but others foundational. As for myself, these things, simple staples to health and wellness, were beginning to be foundational. {Enter The Multiverse} “As Seen on TV” She doesn't even have a name My pussy is cleaner than a motherfucker This ain't no community like Donald Glover Ya'll niggas actin childish, Gambino— If you wanna turn it on, Then send a c-note (I'm in south side) What she want Peloton What she on peloton What she got peloton What she on Peloton I FOUND KIT! I found KIT. Great, now did you burn that letter? What. Burn it. [does] Oh, that is such a relief. Jesus. Okay. This shit does get weird and deep. —so that's why we're going offline… You wouldn't believe this, I found the kid swinging from a tree. Ridiculous. And if you tie it like this— Ah. Look, it won't slip. So…this is your hobby, huh. One of many. They don't call you the Ace for nothin, do they. (Innocently, with curiosity) “Of Granduer” —Do they? The sound of a chandelier sparkles as the giant lamp swings back and forth, as if an earthquake has just happened. You wouldn't believe this. What. On the television. Okay, so I found this “Kit” guy— Twice. Twice you asked, and twice I told you. Well, I didn't think to look directly at Johnny Carson, exactly. But here— And this: You actually were. Tell me again what your name is. Just sign me an autograph: What. Me? Sure, why not? I want your autograph! Do people still ask for autographs? Often enough. Remarkably, even, at airports, and of course, unexpectedly at— GODDAMMIT, we're back at the rock! GODDAMMIT. Well. Well what! Somebody check what year it is. FUCK. [super long censored beep.] [The Festival Project ™] It was the first time since my childhood I felt like something was too long away—but finally, I was in the final stretch. The Peloton would be delivered sometime in the morning, and now that my internet had shut itself off— I'd refused to pay the bill and opted for getting a new computer so that I could record, rather it— Give me a second, I'm fucking obsessed with these curtains. Bro but second to the curtains is the fucking grass. No, its—tuft. Turf, huh? Interesting… I told you she was some sort of a spy. Whatever. I had long considered turning my living room into a media center, and had thought to reinvent my entire space in fungshuei, but now more than anything I just wanted it to look like that. {Enter The Multiverse} Something is wrong with her . She sits by her door ALL DAY and just fucking talks. And I know she's by her door Because she's RIGHT AT THE DOOR I hear this crystal clear Anytime I go near my door And she's like BLAHBLAHBLAHBLAHBLAH BITCH GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE DOOR somewhere in a parallel of time Your ancestors Are beating the hell Out of my ancestors And your other ancestors Are stealing my other ancestors land You're on borrowed time And in borrowed space GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE DOOR. Man, Living sandwhiched between two Karen's Is like the equivalent Of having two demon fucking little sisters That hate you And tell on your for everything. Slamming doors and shit just to fuckin Throwing shit around Bitch. You are crazy. And that's the thing about white girls Their crazy is socially acceptable As normal behavior I guess when you just have the best things in life thrown at you forever— When things the rest of us consider luxury and opulence is just “regular” to you, You get a little set in your ways. My neighbor is infuriating. I'm like WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS BY THE DOOR SHES LIKE SNARFSNRFSNARF I'm like goddamn, Somebody send like a Camden or a fuckin “Chase” Over this way. Somebody take this bitch on a date And away from the door. Whole two bedroom apartment This bitch is glued to her door. She a robot. The door is metal. She just enters the apartment and gets glued stuck to the door “I guess I will have to snarf snarf from here. “She's a smart one” I don't believe in smart white girls. There's regular white girls And fucking serial killers. The serial killers are considered “the smart ones” I guess it does take a considerable amount of intelligence to just exist to catch bodies That's what they call the smart ones The ones who level up by just Mowing everyone else down. Gotta give them that. White girls will ruin your whole life Blink two little blue-green eyes twice— And if they're big and round enough The brown eyed white girls can get away with the shit, too— But they're fucking murderers. It's okay. I lived with white people long enough in my life to love them. But in living with and around them— I notice they all say the same thing which indicates to me that racial injustice might not actually be their fault— They might be killing niggas on accident. Just complete accidents White people say shit like “I can't feel” What. “How does it feel—to feel.” WHAT?! “Explain to me the concept of ‘emotions'” Ah hell nah— And these people have all the disposable income? It's not their fault. They just— are like that. They're wired different. They can't feel, And their first instinct is to kill everything different or perceivably deadly. It's not their fault It's intrinsically They have extremely fragile genes Very weak gene pools. Have you ever noticed how white people are always sick? Always?! Weak gene pools. Years of breeding narcisistically. Traits that are reminders of themselves, or people they grew up around. This is not racism, it's just science. “Oh, I love blue eyes because my grandmother has blue eyes” White men commonly marry women who remind them of their mothers and sisters. If that's not fucked up, I don't know what is. Then I realized that incest porn and teeny porn are amongst the highest watched types of porn. Hmm. Gee. I wonder why. Men are gross. But white moms need to start being more like black and Hispanic moms if they want to ensure the continuance of their genetics into evolution. You need to give your kids some mommy issues. That way, when they grow up, they feel the need to add variation to the gene pool in order to strengthen it, and move towards evolution. It's true. I lived with maybe the whitest man I ever knew for almost 6 months; I don't think he was specifically intentionally trying to kill me— But everything he did— And I mean everything, up to a certain point was like …I don't know, man. It really seems like this dude is trying to like exterminate me in some sort of way. It was bad. The energy was weird. He was like dirty, Fucking lazy, He was a lot. I was like, “Damn what the fuck it's like the longer I stay around the worse it is” But the weirdest part, was that he didn't seem to be aware that he was doing it Either that or he was a really good actor… “What do you mean?” Had me confused. But that's the thing about the whites. They do the whole thing with mind games They fuck with your mind. It's the most powerful weapon, actually— Because if you continually attack a person's mind, The rest crumbles around them without you even touching them. I'm sure this is what my neighbor is trying to do. It's a mind thing I get near the door, she just hurries up and opens her door, opens the door real wide, big apartment, everything's white, big ass fucking place But she's always by the door; Mind games. —Tales of a Superstar DJ. I wasn't really interesting in meeting someone seriously— in fact. As it turned out, I still had a little more muse to milk out of the last one, but even the tarot was being a stickler— I could risk ending it all and putting a nail in the coffin by actually watching The Tonight Show—but there would be a possibility it all would backfire and it would just reignite that spark, or worse—I'd become fully engulfed in flames by whatever it was that seemed to appear—and it seemed to appear so vividly and with rapid strength that it couldn't be stopped or controlled. A serious amount of money had to have been implemented to my paying attention to this, and beyond that— it all had to have been carefully premeditated. While at least now at the bookshop I was drawn to books from Oprah's book club, what had occurred couldn't possibly be ignored—actually, it couldn't be, at all— but instead of eating at me in its usual way, I had more just began to realize that there must have been in play some purpose. Feeling faraway from my actual creative self, there seemed to be something missing at all generating even a general sense of understanding of what normalcy was— when had actually been the last time I had been touched at all in a way that might make me feel as if I was still human— as if I was normal— but I knew I wasn't. It's time for a change. The thought of being with someone, especially just anyone, was bizzare. I gave up on love a lot of times; But this is when it became official. I was listening to a rap album I had never heard before And in this rap song, he said “This hoe got a 7 year degree and still selling pussy” What in the fuck. One way one way ticket Why bother getting a 7 year degree If your value as a black woman Is so low You can get a 7 year degree And still have to be a prostitute? What the fuck is the point. It goes the other way, too. What is the point of selling pussy without a 7 year degree!? She's gonna make more than me in ALL the professions. I gave up on love at all. That right there is how low value we are, not just to the black man, but any man. 7 year degree and you can charge more an hour, but you're still a technical hoe. I want to fucking die. When I married my ex I was pregnant with twins; When i got pregnant with the twins I was about 350 pounds. So by the time we got married, I was 6 months pregnant with twins. He had a right to cheat! I forgave him. But the first time he hit me Like really hit me Not just like A heavy shoving or ike A lil— You know Choke out– Like the real deal Like knocked me the fuck Almost all the way out Saw the white light and everything By the time that all went down I'm like 170-180 He's still, mind you, like 300 I lost weight He lost his mind; so i'm— — lets round up— Like 180 pounds But in my mind i must be thinking somewhere i'm still 300 He came at me with a running start, I put my hands up like: I must have thought i actually had a chance I took a fighting stance like: He said Fphew! PULL A RABBIT OUT A HAT damn . what year is this really? You just got sampled . Say, what's his job? Well, that's an informer. Chris Rock forsure some kind of genius I saw him do GIlbert Godfried And Sam Kinison In the same show. The show was dated, though; He literally said, “I'm married: I don't cheat.” I knew it must have been a joke. I knew it had to be a joke, or it had to be dated, Cause being real, I listen to too much kanye To even believe that Or even laugh at that: Not “too much” kanye— 'Just enough' Kanye, He said, “If I pull up with Kerri washington, That's gon' be an enormous scandal” I might have Niomi Campbell, Still might want me a stormy daniels And ya'll tried to get trumps supporters to turn against him By exposing that he fucked this bitch? That's like an achivement. That's like a status symbol. I'm sure these idiots praise him for that. He might have even gotten more popular! That's not a scandal That's PR. On that note, I think Chris Rock was the very guy Who made me decide to stay single forever: He talked about the way, apparently, men want to kill their wives; The way they fantasise killing us When we're in the relationship: Now, ill say— I never once thought about killing my ex husband During the relationship Even after he hit me. Never once. The only time i started wishing a karmic death upon this person was when I left the relationship And he stopped fantasizing about it And actually tried to fucking kill me. Once I realized this was happening Only then did I start to think “Oh damn, i hope that motherfucker just drops the fuck dead.” This motherfucker beat me, AND tried to kill me, Only then was i like, damn “Return to sender” I hope you die too, You fat piece of shit wifebeater motherfucker I hope you die too. Only after he tried to kill me. After I left. Had to hire a fucking voodoo fucking sorceress and shit “yo , take this curse off me, This motherfucker tried to kill me” Fuck that motherfucker. Apparently though they fantasisze it all the time, I'm thinking about all the times he would play this song iroinically enough, By kanye west So maybe too much Kanye West Or just enough, Kanye said “I thought about killing you today.” He used to play this song, And beat my ass, And I never once thought “I hope he dies” Shit, After the first time he really beat my ass, He ran away. He got scared; He had to run. My face was all hanging off my head and shit Blood all over the place My lip is disconnected from my whole jaw and shit He ran away; He darted out the front door He said “I'm gonna kill myself!” And he rain away– Even then even just after he beat my ass I never thought about killing him Or wanting him to die He just fresh beat my ass; He just straight up finished whooping my whole ass and he said “I'm gonna kill myself” He realized what he did “I'm gonna kill myself”, he said And he ran out the door And here I am With my lip hanging off my whole face Blood all on the walls Pool of blood on the floor, the whole thing babies crying; The whole The whole fucking HBO special The whole nine yards And he said “I'm gonna kill myself” And my dumb ass said “NO! Don't!” He ran out the door, I'm freaking out Blood everywhere Babies crying and shit “Come back! Think about the kids! Don't kill yourself” Like a dumbass. Turns out that was just a tactic, He broke me down good, I was like “Don't kill yourself” He said “...you gonna call the cops.” He said “...alright, I won't kill myself.” Boom. That's a real killer. Looking back on all this, I can't help but think to myself, What i would have done differently Not the whole “I should have left before any of that happened” I was the mother of two young children; I wanted to try after the cheating to make things work, Fast forward after that Turns out he was fantasizing about killing me the whole time He beat mya ass, ran away, Left me in a pool of blood with my two kids He said I'm gonna kill myself Looking back at that momet, The thing I wish I could change is this If i had to do it over again And he beat me like that In front of my kids And then said “I'm gonna kill myself” I would have said “do that shit.” Lock the door behind his ass, Change the lock, Pick my face up off the floor, call an ambulance And the polce, change names Pick up my life And leave forever. “Nigga–who?” “Momma who was our daddy? What was he like?” “Ya'll ain't got a daddy. I made ya'll myself” End of story. Whatever. Everything happens for a reason though. I learned my lesson. Now i don't argue with anyone at all Men, women–nobody If i even sense that same shit That psycho killer shit– I become as silent and invisible as possible And simply Disappear. “Disappear.” I had a migraine and I knew it was from pressure buildup and stress, so I thought to get rid of it I ought to make one of those hot-compresses with rice. But the only rice I had was jambalaya flavored— But the headache was obviously really bad, So I was like, “fuck it.” Poured it into a gym sock And popped it in the microwave, Put it on my neck— My neck smelled like a pot roast, But it worked. {Enter The Multiverse} There was something in my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply, with a raspy wheezing wind out of my lungs, and with a steady cough, I was able to offload whatever it was waiting in my chest to be released, along with it, at least part of the pressure that was making even just sitting and reading nearly unbearable, collecting into a harsh migraine paralyzing each and every other breath with a sharp pain underneath the back of what seemed to be somewhere below my ear canal and somehow, a pressure somewhere behind my eye, probably a result of the excruciating process of shoving earplugs into my ears in order to drown out the outside noise, which paired with that of my seemingly devoid neighbors, often became wildly unsettling, and while lately the clamoring had created not only an uneasy tremor in my left hand, but also apparently a sudden onset of occasional vruxism, the anxiety overall seemed to be surmounting into what could only be described as something trying to kill me, for which I could no longer ignore not as delusions or paranoia, but absolute fact. As I had learned, modern psychology might have been the equivalent of what one could even be certain to be the devil itself, unable to distinguish patterns often associated with creative genius, self manifestation, and psychic abilities and intuition, as delusions of grandeur, paranoid thinking, or worse— diagnoses as psychotic. However, my grandiosity was neither imagined nor delusional—my podcast series alone had been read and listened to all over the world, translated into foreign languages and transcribed, and had been downloaded hundreds of thousands of times since its publishing; though not a technically recognizable figure, I had realized that I had in my own right become somewhat famous, if even off of the back or even under the umbrella of another famous individual, to whom the series itself had been entrusted. Receiving though not by mainstream media standards upwards of at least 10 downloads per episode, the series had no actual gauge or marker for its actual success and polularity—without being able to see information from a major streaming platform—Spotify, and without being able to measure the amount of downloads which had then been duplicated and shared otherwise, I started to recognize with a certain understanding what a cult following was, and the minimal phenomenon that even at this level, fame started to become apparent. It had also become apparent that science itself had yet to truly understand the phenomenon of creative energy as a whole, and that many with these capabilities and gifts were considered to have a plethora of mental health disorders and medicated with what one would consider targeted attacks on the psyche, the illusion of mental illness often standing as the actual delusion in itself! Creating, and then medicating these intrinsic abilities ass illnesses whereby the “neurotypical” individual might only be considered as such due to ability to adapt, confirm, or follow diections in a systematic manner, and furthermore, that the misdiagnoses of such misunderstoodconditions often even relied on bias, poor judgement, racism, social class, and economics had certainly deconstructed any faith or belief formerly held in the modern state of psychology, and most of the articles or public medical journals read more like science fiction and fantasy rather than cold hard facts; indicating a moral and ethical flaw within the entirety of the human species—man's own inability to understand God, and therefore himself, in any creative process. Diety and creativity combined were simply a mystery, and had plagued entire generations of the human spieces as a whole. Blū runs at top speed through the streets of Brooklyn New York on a cold and windy October night. V.O. The ironic thing is, I'm running to go get ice cream. I hate my life, I hate this place, I hate my life— I fucking hate this shit. I'm trying really hard not to kill myself. Like really, really hard. Sudden onset bruxism and hand tremors and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the constant mottoeycle traffic or sleeping in a sea of vehicles which at any given moment could sound off, start up or honk the horn alarm over the last 9 months. I'm fucking exhausted all the time and everything around me just fucking draining. Just fucking draining. https://www.tracklib.com/pricing Yo, you know how I know I'm aging? I hated Dora The Explora when I was a kid— You know why? “That's for babies!” I was too old for Dora the explorer. Mi was a tv snob. I'm like “I hate Dora!” No teletubbies for me. No sir. I'm distinguished now. But get this, As I get older, different renditions of Dora Have grown on me To the point where I actually like the bitch I got older, And there was this girl, Who would show up at raves Dressed like Dora And shuffle, And dance around— Looking like Dora The Explorer Kind of creepy, now that I think about it As an actual adult, Like this, Fully grown woman, Dressed as a fucking 5 year old Dancing around at raves Being Dora. Weird. But I liked it. I loved it. She was a hit; Everybody was like “RAVE DORA! RAVE DORA!” She blew up on Instagram, She had a following— It was like Where will she be next?! RAVE DORA! Had the backpack and everything— Everything! Rave Dora! But now I know I'm getting old, Because I'm fuckin around online, And I see in the advertising little sidebar video Like, a new version of Dora The Explorer, And I'm like “DORAAAAAAAA!!!” —the fuck! I just realized my best friend from 3rd and 7th grade looked just like Dora the explorer. Facts. She became literally the most successful stripper I've ever met. Ahem. Dancer. Right. Dancer. Ahem. Dudes are gross. Doods r gross. Welcome to Doods R Gross; What can I help you find today? Uh, hi. I'm looking for a guy— Uh huh— Possibly one who looks like this: Ah shit, this is how I got playing the Wikipedia game and went on a tirade Facts. Ended up here Unicameralism (from uni- "one" + Latin camera "chamber") is a type of legislatureconsisting of one house or assembly that legislates and votes as one.[1] Unicameralism has become an increasingly common type of legislature, making up nearly 60% of all national legislatures[2] and an even greater share of subnational legislatures. Interesting Started Here: The Fallen Angel (French: L'Ange déchu) is a painting by French artist Alexandre Cabanel. You were saying? Preferably this. Ah huh. Not the face, but— the body— you know. Like this. Okay. Who will let me do everything. Everything as in? Everything. Well, as you know, dudes are gross… Hence the name of this store, good sir. I am in no way good, nor am I a “sir”, and for all intensive purposes, my employment at this store signals my deep indirection in life and may also be an indication of more serious issues. Maintained. Alright, so I'll show you what we got. No promises; The type of model you want is popular, Might be out of stock. Considerable. What's your price range? This credit card has no limit. Credit, or debit? My debit card is also linked to a plethora of infinite wealth. Right this way. Do you think I deserved for him to hit me like that? I don't know. Maybe. I mean—the cheating is a given; I was really really fat..:but do you think like, him getting violent was some kind of karma for something? Maybe. Like maybe I had it coming for whatever reason— and just didn't know it. Maybe. Suddenly I was in the residual memory of a dream. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Send us a textEpisode 489"FROM"Actor: Samantha BrownSamantha Brown is one of the few new members of the "FROM" cast added for Season 3. She plays "Acosta", a Maine Police Officer who has found her way to "FROMVILLE"Sam and I talk about making her jump from a career in business, to now, a member of the cast of "FROM". We talk about Acosta, her unique entrance, being hated by the entire town, potentially being nosey and what her first day on set was like. We also talk about why Sam would not reveal Acosta's first name. Hmmmmm.Sam is super talented and equally as kind.Welcome,  Samantha Brownwww.mmcpodcast.comhttps://linktr.ee/mondaymorningcritic#from  #fromtvshow #fromtvseries #halloween #horrorstories #mgmplus #tvshow

What if the conflicts in your present that came from your past are preparing you for your future? There is a conflict inside before there is a conflict on the outside. You have to solve the inside conflict before you can solve the outside conflict. And in order to do that, you have to be curious.  Hmmmmm .... Here's another thought ... Laughter is a tangible evidence of hope.  Micheal Jr is a comdeian who finds the humor of everyday laugh and makes it funnier.  We recently sat at his feet (well, a few feet from the stage he was on lol) and we learned how the conflicts of his childhood prepared him to find the humor in situations.  Listen in on the dock as Kris and Brian talk about these applications in their lives. Come out on the Dock and enjoy the conversation.  If you have any future topics or have questions about this episode/topic, please send them to questions@leadershipharbor.com Leadership Harbor LLC empowers people to realize their potential with confidence and influence. Want to know more about Brian, Kris or Leadership Harbor? www.leadershipharbor.com

The start of the week is a little crazy my babes but the energy truly, finally, begins to settle later in the week. For now. ;)

Hmmmmm me and Macys search bar AHHHHH! Listen to see whose accounts are in there!

Hmmmmm...See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

They say Americans will be shocked and appalled by the report they're going to release. Hmmmmm

Hmmmmm…that moment when you wonder if you should have had a Guest for this topic. A leader who is professional in their handling of criticism rather than Bobby and Bridge's approach which entails going bright red, potentially yelling “f*ck off” or disappearing for a good old teenage sulk!! Seriously…should these two really be let loose on such a topic!  Well, the answer is YES. Come and have a listen to these two feisty leaders being incredibly honest about their relationship with unsolicited feedback (in other words, criticism) and how their approaches have morphed (or not on occasion) as they have grown in self-awareness, self-reflection and self-assurance.  Links 7 Strategies Smart Leaders Use to Handle Criticism | Inc.com Dealing with Criticism | Wisdom for Life (YouTube.com) How to Keep Criticism from Undermining Your Confidence (hbr.org) 4 Constructive Ways Leaders Can Handle Criticism (forbes.com) Why Your Critics Aren't the Ones Who Count - Brené Brown (brenebrown.com) How to take criticism well when you are sensitive to criticism: Mental Health guide (youthemployment.org.uk) Wisdom from The Four Agreements | Don Miguel Ruiz (Amazon.co.uk) The Seven Day Mental Diet: How to Change Your Life in a Week | Emmet Fox (Amazon.co.uk)

Sommer, Sonne, EIS! Oder? Eine Hörerin ist sich da nicht so ganz sicher. Denn ihre Tochter ist "besessen von Eis" und will am Tag nicht nur eine Kugel... Wie seht ihr das? Wie viel Eis am Tag ist okay? Ihr habt da ganz kunterbunte Meinungen und vor allem: Ganz viele tolle gesunde selbstgemachte Eis-Varianten! Hmmmmm, lecker! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In episode 1709, Jack and Miles are joined by hosts of Kim & Ket Stay Alive... Maybe, Kim Burns & Ketryn Porter Martin, to discuss… JD Vance Is The VP Pick….Hmmmmm, Win A Free AR-15 At The RNC... Comes With Bonus Irony, Trump Fumbling the Good Will? Breaking Is Coming To The Olympics... Then Disappearing From The Olympics and more! JD Vance Is The VP Pick….Hmmmmm From David Sacks to Elon Musk, Silicon Valley's Trump backers cheer JD Vance as VP pick Trump Donors on the Brink of Civil War Over J.D. Vance for VP Elon Musk Says Reports He Will Donate $45M A Month To Pro-Trump Super-PAC Are “Fake Gnus” Win A Free AR-15 At The RNC... Comes With Bonus Irony Breaking Is Coming To The Olympics... Then Disappearing From The Olympics Poop in the Seine, Packed Trains, Convoluted QR Codes — Is Paris Ready for the Olympics? 'More urban': competitive breakdancing added to Paris 2024 Olympic Games Olympics branded a 'mockery' after inclusion of breakdancing for Paris Games 16 crazy Olympic sports that actually exist Australia's Paris Olympics chief reveals the incredibly bizarre rule judges in the Games' newest and most controversial sport will have to follow Why breakdancing judges will bust out moves on the dance floor before competitors How breakdancing became the latest Olympic sport The Battle for Breaking on the Olympic Stage Breaking Will Make Its Olympic Debut in Paris, but Not Without Controversy How the Bronx brought breaking to the world Break dancing fostered Black and brown unity. Some of its pioneers worry of erasure Don't Think Breakdancing Is a ‘Real' Olympic Sport? The World Champ Agrees (Kinda) Canadian breaking champion Phil (Wizard) Kim laments move away from sport at 2028 Olympics LISTEN: This Makes Everything Better by Sarah, the IllstrumentalistSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

What do you do when you find yourself with clients who want you to provide everything on their wish list for a fixed amount? They have a budget in mind, and it seems reasonable to them that you should be able to stretch their budget to include everything. Hmmmmm. Let's hear how Kimberley solved this issue on a recent project.    In this episode we learn: - clients are not expert in running design projects, you are - tell them how to spend their money in a satisfying way - remind them how indecision costs them money - forget the kids' rooms, take care of mom and dad first - the budget and the wish list never match Success is not an accident. It's a strategy. Business of Design® is that strategy. Become a member, today. https://businessofdesign.com/?ref=2&campaign=podcast

This show is dedicated to the things that make you go HMMMMMMMM! Have you ever asked yourself a question about something that just doesn't make sense? This is literally RaqC's brain when something doesn't make sense to her. But more people have got to think this way, she can't be the only one. This show is dedicated to all the people that think out of the box.  ________________________________________________________ Follow us on IG: @straightupsistersthepodcast @raqcsworld @lasusie Follow us on YOUTUBE: Straight Up Sisters Podcast For full episodes in AUDIO and VIDEO subscribe to Patreon.com/straightupsisters Email us: hello@straightupsisters.com

WATP Karl with a balding StutJo, Woke Dad & more. Plus, the Craig Monroe allegations get mainstream coverage, Eddie Murphy v. David Spade, BET honors OJ Simpson, 30 for 30 FaZe Clan, Eva Amurri's boobs, and Bronny James' 1st Laker press conference. Tony Paul was seemingly not thrilled with our C-Mo video headline. The rest of the media is finally covering the sexual assault allegation made against former Detroit Tiger player and broadcaster Craig Monroe. C-Mo is currently missing and more women are popping off on Twitter. Politics: We're still feeling the fallout from the debate. The SCOTUS made some big decisions yesterday and AOC is furious. Kamala Harris and Taraji P. Harris had a great sketch at the BET Awards. Joe Biden is as sharp as a tack! Rudy Giuliani has been disbarred in New York. There has been a mistrial in the Karen Read case. Child killer Susan Smith is ready to get her fine ass back on the market and out of prison. Radiologist Dharmesh Patel IS a doctor, after all. He still tried to kill his whole family. OJ Simpson was honored at the BET Awards. Eva Amurri's boobs have Drew questioning his love for breasts. The Hawk Tuah girl did an interview with a Barstool podcast. WATP Karl drops by to discuss his FBI battle with Stuttering John, tear apart 2 Bears, 1 Cave with Jimmy Kimmel, slam Woke Dad and more. Come see us and Karl at The Magic Bag in October! Breaking News: C-Mo's lawyer has released a statement. ML Soul of Detroit also covered the story. Shifty Shellshock died in a house of skank. We learn that he nailed Punky Brewster… within the last 5 years. Eddie Murphy hasn't gotten over a 1995 David Spade joke. Spade's joke was racist according to Eddie. Jennifer Garner is sick of the Bennifer drama. Shannon Sharpe won't sleep at chick's houses. Hmmmmm. Lourdes Leon looks stupid in a dumb dress. Jamie Foxx opens up about his recent health scare. 30 for 30's lates is No Scope: The Story of FaZe Clan. Los Angeles Laker Bronny James signed a 5-year guaranteed contract which is unheard of for a second round pick. Music: The Black Crowes try to cover John Lennon. Lainey Wilson joined the Rolling Stones on stage, but Keith's mic was way too loud. Cyndi Lauper BOMBED at Glastonbury. Team USA sucks at soccer. Visit Our Presenting Sponsor Hall Financial – Michigan's highest rated mortgage company If you'd like to help support the show… consider subscribing to our YouTube Page, Facebook, Instagram and Twitter (The Drew Lane Show, Marc Fellhauer, Trudi Daniels, Jim Bentley and BranDon).

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Kat purges her long list of things that annoy her. JJ just has one. Hmmmmm...... 

In this FINALE Season Episode, yay! #67 "Kings rule over Tiamat secures the Astar" for Season 7 2023-2024, we return from the last moment where King Mahlon back in Mitsrayim Ancient Egypt giving his speech of progress and blueprint to finding all those responsible what took place leading up to the very first Episode 1: Before The Time Of Princess Aamina of this podcast show! Many world leaders and future leaders such as the young Daniy'el | that will be the husband to Princess Aamina in later years | appeared in this episode as a very young boy of royal with his Ankui father both near the throne of Mitsrayim. We get a glimpse of young Princess Hannah the sister to Princess Aamina (not born yet) and how Princess Hannah is handling the onset returning back to beloved home country of Mitsrayim.   | What is the Astar? Why did the Great General Hanee of Orion was in search of it on Tiamat? You have to Get in the Know of prior Episodes and Seasons for some clues :) Does the Astar still stills deep in one of the hidden pyramids overseen and rule control by King Mahon, as the ruler King for intergalatical leadership of Tiamat and Mitsrayim still know where it is? If so, does the whereabouts of the Astar near the portal access and runway of starships that Nahor had access too and in Premiere Show PA1 " Future Series of Nahor and Princess Aamina (PA1) "Entering the Mystics must answer to King Mahlon? Hmmmmm....you to find out by tuning in the collection of MOLIAE Short Stories to get in the know.    | Divine Storytelling Is Giving |   Later the finale for the first time introduces Kohane in a way that he has a significant scene, he is the stepfather of Dumah ( not born yet and close suppose to be mate with Princess Aamina) in this finale will you found out their mother? In ancient times they called her Istaskal (the mother of Daniy'el and Dumah, as has they had the same mother but different father), say what? yes drama over there) nonetheless, in this FINALE Episode, this moment is important as it sets the path to find who, why two different Ankui of these brothers, Istaskal birth two royal sons. Why Istaskal traveled to Tiamat (Earth) to see King Kohane again and did she informed him for what it seems he was waiting for a long time? What was their deal way in the beginning before the time of Princess Aamina?   PowerBREAKERS. PowerMAKERS.    **Tune in to find out and if you loving these episodes support the M-Film project by buying the released music and now songs of forthcoming album are now available on the podcast and production official website, where these songs are only available for exclusive access and enjoyment for you and your family. go to:  - MOLIAE.com/song  | You Know Me | Song      and/or go to:   -MOLIAE.com/Atlantans-song  | Atlantans | Song that at this release of MOLIAE Finale Episode the debuts 5.24             --- You can also support the Dream for the funding of the M-Film project by shopping MOLIAE Merch and following the production on social media:   : a) go to moliae.com and buy merch, the music songs remix are out get the exclusive song only thru us : b) follow on social media:  IG: MOLIAE8  | YouTube:  youtube.com/moliae  | Twitter:  MOLIAE   : c) share this with someone and donate for the dream to make this a feature movie at moliae.com/donation : d) Share this, follow the podcast and tune in as you support the podcast and get you a pick up a MOLIAE NFT at MINT.MOLIAEWORLD.com  : e) Get in the Know of MOLIAE go thru the free access of previous seasons to tune in the wonderful world of divine storytelling to be inspired, motivated, and encourage, entertain in each episode, while the podcast after today release of FINALE episode goes on annual summer break from June to August, that returns for a new season in September with the Premiere show returning on 23rd of September 2024.     ------   Visit Official Website: MOLIAE.com Season 7 Podcast Episode Release Schedule 2023-2024   ---- **Begins In Season 8 2024-2025 for another year of the Podcast Show Return |Get the PRIME access for the continuation of extra content of Future Series of Nahor and Princess Aamina on Substack Membership subscribe today: Sign up here:  https://moliaeworldshortstories.substack.com/   In today wonderful return bonus, we are enthralled of this lovely and beautiful memories of stories that focuses on Egyptian | Mitsrayim born; Nahor , the son of Ezri the Highest Rank Herbalist of Mitsrayim (Ancient Egypt) of the Royal Family and Palace and as well of the whole Sudan and Princes Aamina, the daughter of King Mahlon and Queen Hagar of Mitsrayim.    --- | ---- | ---- Visit Official Website: MOLIAE.com Get Nichel MOLIAE song "You Know Me" at: https://MOLIAE.com/Song  |  from the forthcoming album "When Love Was Divine" --- MOLIAE Music "When Love Was Divine" now available for download as the anticipated wait for the album. --- Buy The Book:  "Mitsrayim: A Memoir of A Past Life In Ancient Egypt" Available on Amazon.com and Barnes-n-Noble -- MOLIAE MERCH Tshirts | Support This Podcast Show - Buy Our T-shirts https://moliae.com/shop   ------- ANNOUNCEMENTS NFTs Collection "Pyramid Mystery Temple Reunion" PMTR the MINT date is TBA. Visit official website:MOLIAEWorld.com MOLIAE Token is TBA get ready plans to be utilize on official cryptocurrency, NFTs website MOLIAEWorld.com Follow this MOLIAE Project on twitter.com/MOLIAEWorld & share it. PMTR NFTs collection is of 10,000 classmates that are pixel pyramids on Ethereum blockchain with symbolism and meaning with numerology and astrology as our ancient ancestors did so in Sumner and Ancient Egypt/Mitsrayim. In this collection theme purpose, additionally, the mystery to whom took their swords is uptmost concern, in particular, the 24 HUJTA swords (there are more swords assigned to each pyramid) when the call to vote (for whom will be task to solve the mystery that will launch another NFTs future collection "Aspu Legends of Lions" that will be in 3D) follow the storyline that is the bedrock of intrigue written by no other than the prestige Ms. Nichel Anderson creating the official MOLIAE World from her book "Mitsrayim: A Memoir of A Past Life in Ancient Egypt". The  PMTR NFTs collection Utilities Portfolio will be announce soon as when the website is available for view soon.  --- MOLIAE Comic book series episodes will be announce for the timeline before the podcast series - "The disloyalty amongst the Tribal Leaders" available on Webtoons to catch up on this saga series: Vol 1  "A Deal Was Made In The Cosmos"    ---- Check Out Brand of Essential Body Oils: MOLIAE Beauty Shop: https://moliaebeauty.com   GIFT BOX KITS | You want to send Ancient Egypt in a beautiful one of a kind present treasure chest. Order our gift box kits and be like a Royal ! You remember the times.. https://moliaebeauty.com/collections/gift-box-kits   -- FOLLOW MOLIAE on Social Media & Share this! YouTube Channel - subscribe today https://www.youtube.com/moliae Instagram - Follow us, Share this: MOLIAE8 : https://www.instagram.com/moliae8 and… MOLIAEBeauty8 : https://www.instagram.com/moliaebeauty8 — Facebook https://www.facebook.com/moliae SkinCare Beauty brand for Kings and Queens https://www.faebook.com/moliaebeauty Twitter Social Page https://www.twitter.com/moliae Skincare Twitter Page: https://www.twitter.com/moliaeb    https://www.youtube.com/moliae Instagram - Follow us, Share this: MOLIAE8 : https://www.instagram.com/moliae8 and… MOLIAEBeauty8 : https://www.instagram.com/moliaebeauty8 — Facebook https://www.facebook.com/moliae SkinCare Beauty brand for Kings and Queens https://www.faebook.com/moliaebeauty Twitter Social Page https://www.twitter.com/moliae Skincare Twitter Page: https://www.twitter.com/moliaeb  ----    

In Episode 1632, Sean Woodley goes solo to examine the "Hmmmmm" of the 2023-24 Toronto Raptors season, the burgeoning trends and unanswered questions we're still looking for clarity going into the 2024-25 NBA season. Off the top, Sean digs into RJ Barrett's awesome run after being traded to Toronto and whether or not his ridiculous efficiency is sustainable for the long term. The indicators suggest it just might be! Next, Sean digs into the Raptor's promising month of February and how sustainable it might be once the team is assembled in full going into next season, especially regards to the starting five that demolished opponents in its very short time together. Lastly, Sean talks about Darko Rajakovic and whether or not he's a good coach or not, something we probably won't have a full view of til next season, but there were certainly positive signs!Join us on the Locked On Raptors Discord server! https://discord.gg/dHVpWaFuSupport Us By Supporting Our Sponsors!LinkedInLinkedIn Jobs helps you find the qualified candidates you want to talk to, faster. Post your job for free at LinkedIn.com/LOCKEDONNBA. Terms and conditions apply.Yahoo FinanceFor comprehensive financial news and analysis, visit the brand behind every great investor, YahooFinance.com.BetterHelpThis episode is sponsored by BetterHelp. Make your brain your friend, with BetterHelp. Visit BetterHelp.com/LOCKEDONNBA today to get 10% off your first month.Monopoly GO!Get in the game and join your friends. Download MONOPOLY GO! now free on The App Store or Google Play.eBay MotorsFrom brakes to exhaust kits and beyond, eBay Motors has over 122 million parts to keep your ride-or-die alive. With all the parts you need at the prices you want, it's easy to bring home that big win. Keep your ride-or-die alive at EbayMotors.com. Eligible items only. Exclusions apply. eBay Guaranteed Fit only available to US customers.PrizePicksGo to PrizePicks.com/lockedonnba and use code lockedonnba for a first deposit match up to $100!GametimeDownload the Gametime app, create an account, and use code LOCKEDON for $20 off your first purchase. Terms apply.FanDuelFanDuel, America's Number One Sportsbook. Right now, NEW customers get ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS in BONUS BETS with any winning GUARANTEED That's A HUNDRED AND FIFTY BUCKS – with any winning FIVE DOLLAR BET! Visit FanDuel.com/LOCKEDON to get started.FANDUEL DISCLAIMER: 21+ in select states. First online real money wager only. Bonus issued as nonwithdrawable free bets that expires in 14 days. Restrictions apply. See terms at sportsbook.fanduel.com. Gambling Problem? Call 1-800-GAMBLER or visit FanDuel.com/RG (CO, IA, MD, MI, NJ, PA, IL, VA, WV), 1-800-NEXT-STEP or text NEXTSTEP to 53342 (AZ), 1-888-789-7777 or visit ccpg.org/chat (CT), 1-800-9-WITH-IT (IN), 1-800-522-4700 (WY, KS) or visit ksgamblinghelp.com (KS), 1-877-770-STOP (LA), 1-877-8-HOPENY or text HOPENY (467369) (NY), TN REDLINE 1-800-889-9789 (TN) Show Theme Music: Keep Fallin' / The Passion HiFi on SoundCloud

Hmmmmm...Not sure how I feel about this.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

There's a total eclipse coming on April 8th. It may come and go as a neat event, like in 2017, or it may mean something much more. What does the 2017 eclipse have to do with this one? Could it have something to do with the Rapture? Many Pastors and Biblical Scholars seem to think so. Let's at least be aware of the unique nuances about this event as Diane Canada of Lady Up America shares what others have been telling her about April 8th. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/ladyupamerica/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/ladyupamerica/support

Kim Chiu at Paolo Avelino, alam na! "Bea Alonzo at Dominic Roque,nagkabalikan na nga ba?" PBB, sa GMA 7 na ba mapapanood?

Is someone creeping with the hair stylist in Richmond?  Someone got caught being unfaithful and the wrong thing is being focused on.  Hmmmmm.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This week Kelly Williamson of The Moonshiners TV show on the Discovery Channel stops by and gives us an update on the show.  Char and Kurt reflect on the Boys and Girls Club Christmas Party too. The guys also tap into another type of "club"...Perhaps some JB 24 tidbits also?  Hmmmmm.  Listen and find out!

December 6, 2023The Daily Mojo is 2 hours of news, commentary, comedy, and auditory deliciousness.The new Daily Mojo TSA Shirts are HERE!www.TheDailyMojo.com"Targeting Trump, Literally?"Are writers of some of the latest opeds in mainstream media openly calling for Trump's assassination? You be the judge. Poor Kmart - it's a little too little it's a little too late. Are servies that offer to help you remove the wheel "boot" used in some cities legal? Hmmmmm. Apparently you can lose your pilot's license if you crash your own plane for clicks. Phil Bell's Morning Update asks the question - what can the politics of college football (we're looking at you, Florida) teach us about life in the USA?Links:Phil's Morning Updatewww.Freedomworks.orgFreedomTeams LinkDavid G - retired Navy SEAL, Paramedic, & Firefighter - and our Director of Global Security - has some yucks and at least one IG that'll make your blood boil! Links:https://www.toolskool.com/https://www.instagram.com/toolskool/The OFFICIAL Daily Mojo Shirt is HERE!Our affiliate partners:We've partnered with The Wellness Company – a based, dedicated group of medical pros – including Dr. Peter McCullough – to bring you a single trustworthy source for your health.www.GetWellMojo.comPromo Code: Mojo50Dave and his crew were roasting historically great coffee before some of these newcomers even thought about creating a coffee brand. He's still the best, in our eyes! www.AmericanPrideRoasters.comNothing says “I appreciate you” like an engraved gift or award. Ron and Misty (mostly Misty) have the perfect solution for you if you need a gift idea for family or your employees!www.MoJoLaserPros.comWe love to support Mike Lindell and his company. He's a real patriot and an American success story!https://www.mypillow.com/radiospecials Promo code: Mojo50Be ready for anything from a hurricane to man-created stupidity (toilet paper shortage, anyone?). The tools and food storage you need to weather the storm.www.PrepareWithMojo50.com Stay ConnectedWATCH The Daily Mojo LIVE 7-9a CT: www.TheDailyMojo.com (RECOMMEDED)Rumble: HEREFacebook: HEREMojo 5-0 TV: HEREFreedomsquare: HEREOr just LISTEN:www.Mojo50.com

In Episode 1519, Sean Woodley and Vivek Jacob (Sportsnet, Yahoo Sports) react to the Toronto Raptors' 126-107 loss to the Orlando Magic in In-Season Tournament action on Tuesday night. Off the top, Sean and Vivek dig into their biggest takeaways from the game, including some thoughts on an extremely poor defensive performance by Toronto that saw Paolo Banchero, Jalen Suggs and the rest of the Magic parade to the rim throughout the night. Next, they take stock of where the Raptors and Magic differ from one another in terms of their team build and trajectory. Lastly, they run through the Good, the Bad & the Hmmmmm from the disappointing loss to round out the show.Sean is coaching for Team Media at this Saturday's Sports vs Media Charity Basketball Game at Mattamy Athletic Centre. Get your tickets here: https://linktr.ee/sportvsmediaLink for the Discord: https://discord.gg/NTvAcVmTSupport Us By Supporting Our Sponsors!eBay MotorsFor parts that fit, head to eBay Motors and look for the green check. Stay in the game with eBay Guaranteed Fit at eBayMotos.com. Let's ride. eBay Guaranteed Fit only available to US customers. Eligible items only. Exclusions apply.PrizePicksGo to PrizePicks.com/lockedonnba and use code lockedonnba for a first deposit match up to $100!GametimeDownload the Gametime app, create an account, and use code LOCKEDONNBA for $20 off your first purchase.FanDuelScore early this NFL season with FanDuel, America's Number One Sportsbook! Right now, NEW customers get ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS in BONUS BETS with any winning FIVE DOLLAR MONEYLINE BET! That's A HUNDRED AND FIFTY BUCKS – if your team wins! Visit FanDuel.com/LOCKEDON to get started.FANDUEL DISCLAIMER: 21+ in select states. First online real money wager only. Bonus issued as nonwithdrawable free bets that expires in 14 days. Restrictions apply. See terms at sportsbook.fanduel.com. Gambling Problem? Call 1-800-GAMBLER or visit FanDuel.com/RG (CO, IA, MD, MI, NJ, PA, IL, VA, WV), 1-800-NEXT-STEP or text NEXTSTEP to 53342 (AZ), 1-888-789-7777 or visit ccpg.org/chat (CT), 1-800-9-WITH-IT (IN), 1-800-522-4700 (WY, KS) or visit ksgamblinghelp.com (KS), 1-877-770-STOP (LA), 1-877-8-HOPENY or text HOPENY (467369) (NY), TN REDLINE 1-800-889-9789 (TN) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

In Episode 1519, Sean Woodley and Vivek Jacob (Sportsnet, Yahoo Sports) react to the Toronto Raptors' 126-107 loss to the Orlando Magic in In-Season Tournament action on Tuesday night. Off the top, Sean and Vivek dig into their biggest takeaways from the game, including some thoughts on an extremely poor defensive performance by Toronto that saw Paolo Banchero, Jalen Suggs and the rest of the Magic parade to the rim throughout the night. Next, they take stock of where the Raptors and Magic differ from one another in terms of their team build and trajectory. Lastly, they run through the Good, the Bad & the Hmmmmm from the disappointing loss to round out the show. Sean is coaching for Team Media at this Saturday's Sports vs Media Charity Basketball Game at Mattamy Athletic Centre. Get your tickets here: https://linktr.ee/sportvsmedia Link for the Discord: https://discord.gg/NTvAcVmT Support Us By Supporting Our Sponsors! eBay Motors For parts that fit, head to eBay Motors and look for the green check. Stay in the game with eBay Guaranteed Fit at eBayMotos.com. Let's ride. eBay Guaranteed Fit only available to US customers. Eligible items only. Exclusions apply. PrizePicks Go to PrizePicks.com/lockedonnba and use code lockedonnba for a first deposit match up to $100! Gametime Download the Gametime app, create an account, and use code LOCKEDONNBA for $20 off your first purchase. FanDuel Score early this NFL season with FanDuel, America's Number One Sportsbook! Right now, NEW customers get ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS in BONUS BETS with any winning FIVE DOLLAR MONEYLINE BET! That's A HUNDRED AND FIFTY BUCKS – if your team wins! Visit FanDuel.com/LOCKEDON to get started. FANDUEL DISCLAIMER: 21+ in select states. First online real money wager only. Bonus issued as nonwithdrawable free bets that expires in 14 days. Restrictions apply. See terms at sportsbook.fanduel.com. Gambling Problem? Call 1-800-GAMBLER or visit FanDuel.com/RG (CO, IA, MD, MI, NJ, PA, IL, VA, WV), 1-800-NEXT-STEP or text NEXTSTEP to 53342 (AZ), 1-888-789-7777 or visit ccpg.org/chat (CT), 1-800-9-WITH-IT (IN), 1-800-522-4700 (WY, KS) or visit ksgamblinghelp.com (KS), 1-877-770-STOP (LA), 1-877-8-HOPENY or text HOPENY (467369) (NY), TN REDLINE 1-800-889-9789 (TN) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

What caused the Beast to story acting so beastly?  Wasn't it when he believed and accepted the love of Beauty?  Hmmmmm.  There's something here for us, don't you think?

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Warning: This project contains mature and sensitive themes such as depression and suicide. Listener discretion is advised.Yung akala mo lang nakakatulong ka, pero hinde! Hinde! Hinde!Isa ka bang toxic Bessie? Sure ka ba na truly positive ang mga words of support mo bilang friend? O baka naman numero uno kang suki ng mga Positive pero super Toxic quotes na kasama sa Top 10 list namin. Hmmmmm.  Magkaalaman na nga tayo, Bes! Listen to our reasoning kung bakit minsan, kahit na we come with the best of intentions to help ay toxic pa rin ang dating ng ibang words of support and encouragement natin. At dahil lab namin kayo, nag-offer kami ng mga substitutes at suggestions kung ano ang mas magandang gawin at sabihin to be truly supportive in our friend's desperate time of need.Tugon, mga Beslog!Language: Tagalog, English Support the showThe Balut Kiki Project is an international award-winning podcast being a winner at the 1st Asia Podcast Festival Awards held in Singapore.Connect with us on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter. Advertise with us! Email us: balutkiki@gmail.com Review/rate us on Podchaser, ApplePodcasts, Spotify. Thank you, Pixabay and TheBunkPH. *Our podcast does not offer professional medical, sexual, or mental health advice. Our show aims to express truths about our personal experiences in dealing with issues we discuss. If you are undergoing depression or having suicidal thoughts, please go to these links: NCMH (PH) or Find a Helpline (worldwide). It's okay to ask for help....

* Former Michigan Rep. Peter Meijer is back to talk about his insane friends and erstwhile colleagues on the Hill * Peter's surprising (to us) view of Rep. Matt Gaetz* “I try to see the best in people” (Hmmmmm….)* The gordian knot of polarization* Peter makes the case for [blank] as Speaker…….* Oh wait, he's kinda serious!* What do any of these people actually believe? * “Oh, I mean, there's horseshoe theory and then there's horseshoe theory…”* Does Peter have an announcement to make?? Maybe??* Well, he didn't exactly deny it* Note: giving people free shit usually works (for a bit)* The HARD LEFT supercut* Former Dodgers pitcher Trevor Bauer was setup and no one really cares* Two progressive activists are murdered and out come the ghouls This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit wethefifth.substack.com/subscribe

Wanna talk to Samson or buy merch: davidsamsonpodcast.com Today's word of the day is ‘CBO' as in Chief as in Baseball as in Officer as in the Red Sox have fired Chaim Bloom after (almost) 4 seasons with the club. Why now? What did Bloom do wrong? The Mookie Betts trade? Was that on him? (14:10) Is foreign money coming to the NFL? Does this sound familiar? Could it be the Saudi fund? Hmmmmm… (24:30) Review: Kielce. (28:20) So You Wanna Talk to Samson!? Someone asked me about Alek Manoah and where he is. Huh!? (39:10) NPPOD. (43:10) What is the future of the Portland Trail Blazers? Why haven't they been sold? (45:40) What are the Suns doing with TV? Do you need an antennae? We'll give them to you! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

PuchiCon Panel - Vash the Stampede Intro (2 min) Introduction of Anthony & Doc - thanks everyone for coming out Who here has heard us before? Who here is very familiar with Vash/Trigun? Background (3 min) Vash the Stampede created by Yasuhiro Nightow in Trigun Chapter 1 - The 60 Billion Double Dollar Man (May 1995) For purposes of this panel, we'll be focusing on the anime version, not the manga, since the story is much more streamlined in the anime Vash is an alien with decelerated aging, who is raised by Rem alongside his twin brother Knives Knives grows to hate humanity and attempts to crash their spaceship into a planet - Rem puts the boys in an escape pod to protect them Knives and Vash battle, and Knives cuts off Vash's arm - this triggers a latent power inside Vash, and the explosion destroys the town of July (although all the people within were spared) - this incident is what triggers a $$60 billion bounty Vash becomes a drifter, being followed by Meryl & Milly, insurance agents who document the destruction left in his wake (or more accurately the wake of those trying to kill/capture him) Despite being incredibly proficient in weapons, Vash is a pacifist who refuses to kill anyone, even those trying to kill him Knives hires a gang of assassins (the Gung-Ho Guns) to hunt his brother down and cause him pain & suffering After several run-ins with the Gung-Ho Guns (including being forced to kill the leader, Legato), he and Knives have a climactic battle, resulting in Vash wounding Knives but refusing to kill him, honoring Rem's last request: “Take care of Knives” Issues (15 min) Direct traumatic relationship with Knives Idealism to the extreme Humor as an immature defense mechanism Treatment (10 min) In-universe - “the ultimate NPC escort mission” Out of universe - Significant childhood trauma, a complicated ongoing relationship with family, perfectionistic self-drive that is also self-sabotaging Skit (10 min) Hello Vash, I'm Dr. Issues. - Well hello there. How are you? I'm doing well, thank you for asking. -So, I notice there's a plate of donuts out there, are those for someone specific? Or… Those are for anyone in the waiting room. -Aww…but I'm in your office now…can I have one anyway? Sure, but -*rushes out, comes back* Oh man, I love the apple cider ones the most. I'm glad you like them, now what can I do for you? -Huh? Oh, I'm good with the donuts. No, I mean what do you want to talk about. -Um, I think you could use a bit more variety, although I did see some with sprinkles. Then again, those are a bit too artificial for my taste. *chomping* nature knows how to provide the best flavors, ya know? I appreciate your interest in natural health. But I must admit, your reputation precedes you. -Gosh, I'm just some wanderer, *emo-style* searching for the elusive mayfly of love Not all who wander are lost -I'll bet! You meet the most interesting people along the way. Insurance agents, outlaws, homesteaders, outlaws, beautiful women, outlaws…I said outlaws, right? I got the hint. Sounds dangerous. -Sure, if you're not as careful as I am. Careful? From the triage report you sound fairly reckless. -Yeah, I should pay more attention to the beauties…am I right, or am I RIGHT? *awkward laugh* you're not laughing. Not a fan of sexism. -I didn't mean to offend you. Sometimes I get a one track mind. I should examine what's really important…THESE DONUTS! *truly maniacal laugh* You're still not laughing *holds bridge of nose* Vash…Vash…Vash. I'm going to try and keep some level of decorum as I say this. Please…I'm begging you…just take my questions as seriously as you take your appetite, alright? -*dramatic* Sir yes sir! You don't have to get so cranky. Why are you deflecting before we even get to any topics? What's so bad that you won't do the most basic of introductions? -*sarcastic* I saaaaaid hello. If you keep this up, I'm willing to say goodbye.  Trust me, the bill that you'll be footing based on reported damages in the first place won't be wiped out unless you have a complete psychiatric evaluation.-*sigh* If you say so. Thank you. Now, since we're short on time, tell me the biggest concern you have in life. -Oh wow, that's heavy…um, life I guess? Your biggest worry is life itself? -I want everything to live. Is that so wrong? That's…unique. Can you narrow it down? -Nope. Ooooooookay…hoo boy. And…what do you do about life as a whole? -Save it. Cherish it. No matter what. That's what…she would have wanted. She who? -Rem. She was…she taught me everything I needed to know. She definitely sounds special. Based on the tense, I'm guessing something happened. -*nervous laugh, rambling style* Well sometimes bad things happen you know so I just keep going on but as long as I don't think about it too much and how nice she was and everyone deserves to live because she said so and I don't want to let her down but I don't know why everyone hates me sometimes but I still love them and it…it…*exaggerated crying* IT ALWAYS HAPPENS TO MEEEEEEEEEEE *pause* Hmmmmm…didn't quite expect that. In my line of work, we'd call your emotions labile. You're on a rollercoaster here! -I'll try to keep calm. I'm not so bad once you get to know me. It took us this long for you to stop deflecting, and then the real emotions came out like a firehose. That's not the best way to handle things. Plus, the only time I got the sense you were actually serious was when you mentioned the sanctity of life. Maybe such a heady philosophy is cracking you. -No way. It grounds me. It's my core. You probably understand me more than you think. Don't you fight against suicide? Absolutely! -But why? *pause* Well, there's a myth out there that taking your own life is a way to eliminate pain. But from what I've seen, it's the opposite. The person becomes a pain bomb that spreads that sorrow to every person that ever had a positive thought about the one who is now gone. I'm willing to see through that lie. -And what if it wasn't a metaphor for emotion. What if there were real bombs involved, and bullets, and weapons you couldn't even dream of. What then? What if someone is so bent on hurting others that the only thing you can do is stop it…but that person has a value too, don't they? Yes. -So where am I wrong? Why do so many people fight me when I don't want to fight them?  Sometimes I chant a mantra to myself: “Magnets draw metal because they are strong.” You're a target, for sure. But not many of those who are as pacifist as you are willing to fight in the…unique way that you do. You're begging to become a martyr. -Don't say that…*yelling* DON'T SAY THAT. I want a fun life. A simple life. But I won't run from anyone who needs saving. Trouble finds me. I've had to deal with Knives. ***misunderstanding, WAY too flippant***...and swords, and bullets, and lasers, and rockets blah blah blah -You fool! I mean my brother. *sighs* You know, it's really hard to love someone when they want you to be someone you're not. *pause* Can you deal with the imperfect? -What's that mean? You, your brother, Rem, whoever that is…the people you save, the people trying to kill you…it's all one giant imperfect mess. And yet, I get the sense that you will never be satisfied. Don't let perfect be the enemy of good. You have passion; I can see that. No one can promise you peace. But what I can do is help you mold your purpose. Life itself may be zero-sum if you look at the end, but the value is infinite if you find a way to enjoy the things in between. -*pause* Wow. That's really sweet… Thank you -BUT NOT AS SWEET AS THESE DONUTS! *whining* Ohhhh man…I thought I was getting through to you. -***munching again*** Well, you know what they say…the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. THEY DON'T SAY THAT IN A THERAPY SESSION -Well, I gave you a new technique. Gotta go, Doc! Thanks for the comfort food! Ending (5 min) Thanks everyone for coming!  Next episodes: Mister Sinister, Ventriloquist, Bigby Wolf Apple Podcasts: here Google Play: here Stitcher: here TuneIn: here iHeartRadio: here Twitter Facebook TikTok  Patreon TeePublic Discord

Tune in to this week show. This week, we will be discussing from the topic of 99 Problems. Hmmmmm. Tell a friend and listen in.

"You're a Ferrari with a flat tire."  The doctor stared straight into my eyes with almost creepy iontensity as he said these exact words. This is how he let me know I was actually diagnosed with ADHD.  Hmmmmm... I'm a Ferrari. Shiny, red, and fast, With a flat tire. Hmmmmmm... That explains a lot. This episode gives you the 3 main things that help me get more done and not feel stupid.  I hope it helps.  Note: Huge shoutout to jewelry designer Trisha Flanagan who inspired this episode with her AMAZING fidget rings & morse code jewelry.  You should buy her stuff. She's amazing and so is her product. https://www.trishaflanagan.com/ Show Notes and Links:  https://fashionbrainacademy.com/adhd/

It's hard to believe that the Vegas Golden Knights are just one win away from winning the Stanley Cup! Chunga and Chandler are besides themselves!!!!!! GO KNIGHTS GO!!!!Hey the Unabomber just died! How many of you were surprised he was still alive!??Many of you have been homesick for Bash Music... could it be returning soon!?!? Hmmmmm!Have you heard the news!?! An alien spacecraft may have crash landed in Las Vegas!!! Not only that a government whistleblower blower says this kind of thing has been happening for decades!!! WHAT!?!?Panda has another classic 80's movie shout out AND it's time for a new round of Headline D&D!!!!! Listen NOW on radioronin.com or wherever you get your podcasts!!

Show:  Forensic Files IIEpisode: The Car AccidentYear: 2005Yaz Essa and his lovely wife, Rosie, were trying to add a third baby to their family.  Since Yaz was a doctor, he was giving his wife a variety of supplements.  One morning while driving, Rosie called her friend to hell her that the calcium supplement she just took  was making her really sick.  To everyone's shock, Rosie died later that morning in a car accident. Except she had zero injuries and her car was not damaged at all.  Hmmmmm, I wonder what really happened? Support the showCheck out our website: https://www.buzzsprout.com/837988 Linktree: https://linktr.ee/itsalwaysthehusbandpodcast Like our Facebook page and join our group!! Instagram: @itsalwaysthehusbandpodcast Twitter: @alwaysthehubs Etsy Shop: https://www.etsy.com/shop/ItsAlwaysTheHusband?ref=simple-shop-header-name&listing_id=776055218 Theme song by Jamie "I'm Gonna Kill You, Bitch" Nelson