Podcasts about Hoes

Welcome to a special episode of the After Party and for this one we team up with our boy Snack! We bring back our girl Jennessey and she brings on her lawyer/emotional support friend and they spill all the tea! They tells us about their time at the Hoots, nights out on good ol Cinci Street and they tells us all about Dabba aka the Young King. Plus Jennessey tells about her upcoming album and her latest projects. Make sure to subscribe and follow me on socials @ AaronScene

Its episode 96 and for this one we got the new girl Jazy coming on and sharing some wild stories! She tells us about the time she balled out (or should we say bald out) in Tulum, her new life living with short short hair and she shares her thoughts on sugar daddy's. Plus our boy DS comes on to guest cohost and tells us about the time he used to live in Tijuana! Make sure to subscribe and follow me on socials @ AaronScene!

Recorded on a wild ass  Saturday night and Casa de Cookie.

Marie Stopes shook the world. She wrote a best-selling sex-manual for women and was a controversial birth control pioneer. Weirdly, she didn't have a background in medicine. She actually studied plants, coal, minerals, etc. before opening her first "Planned Parenthood" style clinic in England. The MSI Reproductive Choices clinics quickly spread across the world and are still active today. On a darker note, she also corresponded with Hitler and believed in the creation of a super race.   Follow us: @homance_chronicles Email us: homancepodcast@gmail.com Connect with us: https://linktr.ee/homance  

TW suicidal shit --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

Bestie! We are dropping the very first guest interview and it is spicy! Disclaimer: This is a candid interview of a woman explaining her journey with sex work. If that offends you, skip this episode. This is for the open-minded and shared from a space meant to be empowering. All things in this episode were between two consenting adults. Sugaring is a type of relationship in which a wealthy man provides money and gifts as an energetic exchange for a woman's time, energy, and often body. He is known as a Sugar Daddy, she is referred to as a Sugar Baby. The roles can be reversed -- Sugar Mamas and Sugar Babies, but today we will be exploring from the perspective of an energetic and vibrant pansexual woman, Clara. In this episode, you'll meet Clara Percheron. Clara is a highly educated woman from an upper-middle-class family with a traumatizing history with men. Dive into this episode as she shares How she got into sex work Are Sugar Daddies really just gross old men? How to find men that are into this lifestyle Experiences with her Daddies, including a $10,000 lingerie shopping spree Why you should never quit your day job to be a full-time Sugar Baby Her vetting process when choosing your Daddies Energetics and sex work How to establish boundaries in this line of work The pros and cons of having a Sugaring (Sugar baby/Sugar Daddy) relationship Safety and precautions STDs, reproductive, and sexual health Therapy and sex work Clara's opportunity to make $1,000 for 5 minutes of her services Clara, thank you for sharing your story! Connect with Yolanda here www.theconscioushoe.com    

This week, Julie & Brandy take out all their negative New Year's vibes on the sh*tty Republicans & Maga rats who made a mockery of Nancy Pelosi's legacy, and disrespected the entire institution of the United States House of Representatives.    *** Click the link to listen to the FREE “Trunkkies” episode of our Patreon Podcast!! *No Politics! No ads! *** https://www.patreon.com/posts/trunkkies-24684275?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare **CHECK OUT OUR T-SHIRTS! ** https://www.julieandbrandy.com/shop---4 *** Dumb Gay Politics with Julie & Brandy **** Julie Goldman **** Brandy Howard **** Julie and Brandy *** The People's Couch *** DGP *** Gay Podcast *** Political Podcast *** Lesbian *** Bravo *** Housewives *** Queer *** Pride **** LGBTQ **** Starburns Audio  **** Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

ENJOY THOUSANDS OF SHOWS THAT YOU MAY HAVE MISSED IN THE LANCESCURV VIDEO COLLECTION: https://www.lancescurv.com/video-collection/ UNDERGROUND MEDIA RENEGADE | CULTURE CRITIC | PODCAST HOST | DIGITAL NOMAD | BLOGGER & CARTOONIST WHO FOCUSES ON THE ISSUES OF RAW HUMAN NATURE THAT THE MAINSTREAM MEDIA IS DEATHLY AFRAID TO TOUCH! THE LANCESCURV PODCAST COVERS CURRENT EVENTS, TRENDING HAPPENINGS, NEWS AND THOUGHT-PROVOKING TOPICS OF INTEREST IN AN UNCOMPROMISING UNCENSORED MANNER.

ONE FIVE THREE Pod Talk(3:56) Book Talk(17:25) Live Your Life(55:00) Gym Talk/Anger(1:13:49) The Options/Drifters(1:27:12) Stuntin/Gym Talk(1:46:52) Food Talk/Needs/Gym Talk cont'd(1:59:06)

Friday night rudeness and all that attitude, ugh get over yourselves. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/javier-martin-cruz/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/javier-martin-cruz/support

In each of the three previous worlds, humanity was destroyed by destructive practices and wars. In the most common version of the story the Spider Grandmother (Kookyangso'wuuti) caused a reed to grow into the sky, and it emerged in the Fourth World at the sipapu, a small tunnel or inter-dimensional passage. As the end of one world draws near the sipapu appears to lead the Hopi into the next phase of the world.[10] That explains this. –and that dream. Why do the spirits call upon me? To bring about a The New World. I told you, it's The fourth world. Oh. I just thought I was the 4th Skrillex. Maybe, that, too. Meh, we'll see. Just–keep writing. I told the spider I'd write it! What are you writing, anyway? I don't know yet. Look up Homer! Don't forget Makaevli! Ugh, I'm behind on my studies. Don't forget about that deadline. Fuck Dillon Francis. Aha, I win! Are you retarded? I mean, maybe; Does that mean I get a free pass at this? No free rides. No free admission. No free love. Well, there it is. Hm. Interesting. Writing to Skrillex helped me mull-out a disastrous amount of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Uh-huh… And writing to deadmau5 helps me write–uh–what is this? A memoir, I guess. A memoir? I'm not dead yet. No, I'm infinite. And increasingly ancient. The Universe's Expansion. What did I call it? Perhaps, The Insomniac? Oh, shit–did we ever figure out exactly what Pasquale wants out of this? –or wanted– Why past-tense? You just so happen to be an nflammatory racist. I'm not racist! Blue eyed people DO lie more than everybody else! It's not racist; it's a statistic! Why is this? I don't know! Maybe cause they can usually get away with it! What do those cards say again? I want seconds. deadmau5 saves lives. Now. First of all, nobody's claiming to be the living incarnation of Jesus. Except all these guys over here: Ah, yes, them– And like, a handful of rappers. Maybe that's what's so unattractive to me about black men. Not their skin? No, not really. Not their features? No, that's not it. Then what is it? Ego is unattractive. It can be. No, it is. So is this. It's just skin. I can admit I was always more beautiful inwardly than outwardly attractive. ALSO, IN THIS EPISODE: Hey Hey? What is THIS? It's a DeLorean. I see that. Good Get in. Uhm. I always wanted to ride in a DeLorean. —and, Ir gets real cold at night, And, We've all been spread too thin, And, I'm not trying to fit in, really; Just want it to end, But it's infinite It is It's definitely endless It is I don't even make ends meat… (More like rib tips) Goddamnit, just went vegan Skate, Might eat shit But I still won't buy or eat these chips —even if I could afford it. This life ain't worth it ; Pictures are worth 1,000 words, they said So I take portraits This world hurts, it Ain't worth it Mother of Earth isn't worthless— Just covered in dirt (And piss) And plastic, Damn, all this trash, and this damage, but— Where do we put it? Humans are stupid; But still wake up and do this, Can't move, shit, But why would I want to I'm not Blū today, I'm just used up, I'm sorry I screwed up I bought it, The wrong one Returned it, Refund Like this 28 cents bout to turn into something I wish it was summer I run here, umbrella You could call it undercover Lost my love somewhere around here Hope somebody picks it up; It cost a fortune But I'm fortunate— Loveless— But fortunate; I wondered what a fortune was, Then earned it I don't feel so special anymore, no I don't feel so special anymore, though I keep telling God I just want to come home Now I'm Ice cold Now I'm ice cold I had slept all day—that is, from around 8 AM until 9 PM; and though it had been weeks since I had set any alarms, I always woke up exactly when I needed to—so I figured I must have needed to, and considered that if I didn't, I didn't need to for some, or any eesson whatsoever. After falling asleep for just moments before waking up to scarf down my cold tater tots, accompanied by a green smoothie, I had agreed with myself that living the way I was, wherever in Los Ángeles or anywhere else was simply unsustainable—I no longer had the motivation or energy to spend 80 hours working for people who I could only imagine had it so much better than I did, calculating the numbers as I worked between the mimimum wage salaries I was being paid, the amount of inventory which was kept in each store, and the horrible working conditions of 2 out of the 5 stores total which I had been employed, not even accounting for the 6th store, which I had “obstinately” dissappeared from once my intelligence had been insulted past the point of beyond repair, and having my schedule changed to a midday jaunt that only allowed for a window of 2-hours of sleep on either side, which—turned out to be either less-or-none, with four roommates, one of them who had quit both her jobs and never left the room anymore, taking the justice of using her ex boyfriend's credit card to pay for her stay, and focusing on her “art”, which apparently meant scrolling all day through social media and shining her phone's flashlight in my face whenever I did begin to finally rest. At that point, I was almost entirely too tired to remember to tie the bandana I wore daily over my eyes as a block to the sunlight and her other shenanigans, plus any of the clamoring of the other two roommates—I had learned by now to, however, always keep my ears tightly plugged with foam, as she also liked to talk on the phone, and again, hadn't left the room in seemingly days, besides to get junk food to eat in bed—not that I had room to judge—I hadn't another place besides bed to comfortably eat, either, however, nor did I have the luxury of a boyfriend's credit card to afford my stay, and thus, kept working a full and steady full time, for so much less than I was worth that I couldn't stand myself, let alone afford the things I needed and God forbid the things I wanted. I needed a lot, actually—all of my bills were overdue, and my measly paychecks only had added up to barely afford me the 4-bed-shared dorm, which I had realized was more than luxurious and at the very least clean, which was the highlight of it—and as my 22-year-old-bunk mate became clearly rather depressed and irritating, she had become messy and careless, my empathy an offset, and my lack of time accumulating with the disorganization of hating a less than 100-square-foot with at least 3-busy people and one entitled brat, became an overwhelming push to move rooms and downsize even more than I had; now, the entirety of my belongings fit neatly into the back of a Prius with no qualms—but, understsnding the endless cyclical poverty of Los Ángeles, and though I was no longer truly homeless, paying upwards of $2,000 a month to share a space with four strangers, but still unwualifled to rent an apartment for even $1,000 a month, the minimum income for such being $3,500 a month, and falling short by far of the lump sum needef for the application fee, deposit, first, and last months, I had become desperate to leave again, however not to Mexico, or any other 3rd world country where I might be able to afford a cozy space alone, but would be unable to make money at all, by comparison, and would have to fight constantly not to be taken advantage of. (Not that I wasn't at least in some way doing so in Los Ángeles, in an of course, slightly less-hostile way.) All of my coworkers were tired, overworked, and miserable—complained of the horrid work conditions and high expectations of the minimum wage position, which of course provided only accessories for the many spectrums of dependency the city had to offer—besides oil burners, of course, which didn't keep away the methheads looking for them, calling about them, or buying nectar collectors as replacements—by any means. It was almost comical, the daily happenings of each store—and each of the 10 employees were sent between the storefronts sprinkled across the downtown Los Ángeles metropolitan landscape; It was the darkest tragedy-turned-comedy I had ever lived, or written, as I jotted down only the most perfect and seemingly divinely inspired occursnces—from crackheads snatching bags of chips, to gangster rappers and their ghetto fabulous entourages—and of course, the ever mystifying magicians which seemed to use the shop as a portal into my Inter dimensional madterpiece simply by being, accompanied of course by the occasional celebrity just in at the top of the midnight hour to by whippets—which one would think could be delivered, however—I was only grateful for the chaotic collision of wonderful imaginary circumstances which might cause one to have to write about it. When Timmy turned about 16, he started wishin for weird shit, ma —does line/takes shot, hits vape Cosmo, you should slow down, man. —?! Cannonball! —- well, We gotta get going. What. No! Don't go! We gotta go. It's getting late. No! Don't go! We gotta go. What? I can get more whippets! No, that's okay. See you, Cosmo. [the other fairies leave hurriedly, leaving Cosmo alone, deflated] Man, he's just not the same since Wanda left, man. It be that way sometimes. Yeah, I know. Poor guy. YeH. Oh well. Oh, are we still on this timeline? Yeah, I guess. So, what's next? I dunno, I gotta find something cool for Emma Watson to do, I guess. INT. KREAM. NIGHT AS FUCK. BLŪ is working alone. CUT TO: SUPACREE I always work alone. Play dead, bitch. SUPACREE I don't “play” Then be dead. CUT BACK TO: Three mysterious figures enter the storefront, adorned with dark Ray Bans Sunglasses. Two customers follow behind as they slowly walk through the store. CUSTOMER Holy shit, is that Emma Watson? OTHER CUSTOMER I dunno, looks kinda like her… CUSTOMER Holy shit—hey, yo—Emma! The three mysterious shoppers continue browsing, unaffected. The first customer approaches the only female of the trio. CUSTOMER CONT'D Yo, Emma—Emma Watson? An awkward silence, without movement; Blū quietly observes, standing at the register. CUSTOMER CONT'D UH, nevermind. Let's go, dude. OTHER CUSTOMER I told you it wasn't hers CUSTOMER That was embarrassing. The two customers exit the store, leaving BLŪ and the mysterious trio in the store. what was that? I dunno , Harry. … BLŪ squints over the golden rims of her sunglasses—suddenly, a large van with no windows screeches to a stop outside the door. Pause. Okay. What the fuck is this. {Enter The Multiverse} (We've been on the Harry Potter Timeline since like Season 1) ((Really)) (Yes.) CUT TO: ANANDAR. CUT BACK TO: Okay— And LEGENDS. Fuck. I'm stuck. Well, get unstuck. Okay. There's three hours on my shift left. I'm sure I'll come up with something. What are you doing with any of this? I don't know, I publish some of it on my podcast— —Uh Huh— But lately I've been trying to figure out how to get to the top of the U.S. Bank Tower. What's up there? CUT TO: “DEATHWISH” Oh yeah, that series. It's short lived. (Literally) NATALIE is attempting suicide by jumping from the roof of the U.S. BANK TOWER Oh no. Wait a second. We're already paused. Okay, so, what's going on? They'll figure it out. If I get plagiarized again without getting paid for it… What? I don't know. No more suicides. No more suicides. So whatever. Just copyright it. Even THAT costs money. Lots of money. This whole project costs lots of money. (Potentially) Are we done now? I guess. I mean— I know what happens after… THE DEVIL gives SUNNI BLŪ their soul back Lol. Why. (I know why) Here. What—*gasp* IS THAT MY SOUL? Shh. Just take it. NO. Just take it! NO, Devil. I'm rich and famous now. I know that. A deal's a deal! Just take it! Okay?! Shit—you can keep it, you can keep—everything—just—fuck, man! I'm a “they” You can take whatever you want, you can keep all this shit— All of it?! —I just, don't want it, don't need it. Just take it. Ok. Okay? Yes. Cool. [beat] Just sign this. Okay. And this. Alright. And this— What is this? It's a non-disclosure agreement. I'm not having sex with you. Yeah, but I don't want you to fuck me. Alright, alright. And—one more here— Alright… And…YO MORGAN. What sunni. Can I get a notary in here? For what now?! Just—come see. [MORGAN enters, irritated] Oh, hey Satan. Hey Melissa. What's up, dude. Nothin' . Lol. MEANWHILE uh oh DILLON FRANCIS is buried alive, after being kidnapped and placed into a wooden coffin. Oh shit. I love this scene. He really is a good actor. DILLON FRANCIS CAN SUCK MY NUTZ. Yo. Lol. Why does everybody hate him. Idk. He must really hate himself or something. My roommate had been kind enough to give me a tarot reading before I left for new years weekend, exclaiming, “There's a Capricorn entering your midsts, but you must give him permission.” “Oh shit, the Capricorn?! Really? “ The rest of the reading became a humble lull in the back of my mind, as The Amethyst in my bra began to buzz unlike the way it had ever before; it had rang, pulsated, and even sometimes shook itself—but had never quite buzzed the way that it did this day, and so, impulsively, as she finished the reading, filling my mind up with what I was sure was nonsense about a greater love than I had ever known on the horizon with a mysterious Capricorn, I took the stone from my brazziere, holding it for a moment in my left palm, and placing it on the wooden post between our beds—her eyes widened as they drew to the stone, as I explained: “I've carried this stone for a very long time—nobody touches it but me.” “Okay”, she said, still fixated and almost enamored with the stone. “You can touch it, if you want.” “I really want to” “Cool,” I said, picking up my DJ equipment and exiting towards the rooftop to play. “Hold onto it, I'll be back in an hour.” , I said. , reaching for the door. “Okay”, she beamed with excitement. “You got the Capricorn ; Now, tell me about the Libra. October 5th.” I said, opening the door and slowly exiting, my DJ equipment obscuring the door from closing. “See you soon.” After a string of robberies, TIMMY TURNER is apprehended and arrested near the scene of the crime… w—- THE DELOREAN arrives with a bang. WHAT THE FUCK. Oh hell no. Well, let's go. yo. YOOOOOO! What the FUCK. I brought the DeLorean. ARE YOU CRAZY?! YES. —in front of all these PEOPLE. They're mostly NPCs! …I gotta call my mom. ITS A BOMB! ITS THE END OF THE WORLD! …it's just another night in downtown Los Angeles. I can't help it! It's a DeLorean! It just “shows up” like that!!! WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?! HELL! Pasquale, I told you! Hanzel I looked there. You vwerent there. I wvas there. You just didn't see me. Here's this, by the way. S/he produces the cloak of invisibility. THAT's where that was. Nowhere. Yeah, literally, nowhere. YOU HAD THIS THE WHOLE TIME. Yes, dude, stop yelling at me. WHERE IS SUPACREE?! —where's Skrillex?! UGH. Stop asking that. Well. Find him, maybe, then everyone'll stop asking where he's at. WHERE IS SUPACREE. Looking for SKRILLEX. Duh. *hits vape* fucking assholes. You're an asshole. Try again—motherfucker. what. WVAT. WHAT. Yup. Just made captain. Fuck ya'll hoes. HOES Where the whippets at? This guy's house! Everybody, get in the car!! The Hoes single file into the car. Here's the keys. You fucking dick. You're welcome. MEANWHILE SUPACREE hosts an ALL-MALE DISCO PARTY OH. You HEATHENS. THINK MCFLY! THINK!!! Oh shit, are we still doing that one?! It's 2:22– BLŪ passes by a group of partygoers, turning for a moment to think Almost 2023 You can't just follow people to a rave these days; It's a new world. But for the first time I'm years I felt as if I was missing something. Maybe I was. Or maybe. It's part of me was there anyway… After tearfully crossing the way, she passes the HORSE MEAT DISCO Oh my god. Yes. Yes God. Yes. SUPACREE has just hosted the horse meat disco. This is also 3D. My notebook is 3D? Somewhere in The Universe, Yess. In Tthis universe? At least in this Universe. I don't have a way to feel about that. fine. AND DEN? ASHTON KUTCHER is a secret fan of THE LEGEND OF SUPACREE; and has recently discovered ENTER THE MYLTIVERSE; Now he devises a series of plots to be written into the show LEGENDS. ASHTON KUTCHER I'll be right back, babe— I gotta go to the ups store. MILA KUNIS You mean the UPS store? ASHTON KUTCHER The ups-store. MILA Whatever, shut up. ASHTON KUTCHER (Rushed) I'll be right back! MILA KUNIS Wait—PICK ME UP AN ELFBAR. That doesn't sound right. We'll get back to that later. Okay. Find the key. ok. ‘It never stops for anything…' Are you still stuck in that thing? It's another long one, Posted up at the shop; Isn't it obvious? I fuckiing love this l— Fucking hate this job Just another long one But in the long run, I'm the wrong one, I just don't give a fuck! I just don't give a fuck about love, hun I'm on a long one It's another long one I'm shaking, cold now I'm shaking in my boots I'm shaking it out Shaking it out Shaking it out Out of shape, And thanks— I'm out of time, I gotta run from spot to spot— It's just an alternate, It's just an option, It's just a can of pop, I just can't stop it. Stop it! None of these dudes wanna be just friends I promise, I'm just tryna make ends It never ends I need a band, I need a room at the Wynn Don't mean to be rude, but What the fuck was the plan Not standard. Stand there, Looking like a man Goddamn, that's random Check out the fandom, then I'm a phantom {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Isadora Duncan (1877-1927) was an American pioneer of dance and is an important figure in both the arts and history. Known as the “Mother of Modern Dance,” Isadora Duncan was a self-styled revolutionary whose influence spread from America to Europe and Russia, creating a sensation everywhere she performed. Her style of dancing shunned the rigidity of ballet, and she championed the notion of free-spiritedness coupled with the high ideals of ancient Greece: beauty, philosophy, and humanity. Follow us: @homance_chronicles Contact us: https://linktr.ee/homance Send us a Hoe of History request: homancepodcast@gmail.com  

In each of the three previous worlds, humanity was destroyed by destructive practices and wars. In the most common version of the story the Spider Grandmother (Kookyangso'wuuti) caused a reed to grow into the sky, and it emerged in the Fourth World at the sipapu, a small tunnel or inter-dimensional passage. As the end of one world draws near the sipapu appears to lead the Hopi into the next phase of the world.[10] That explains this. –and that dream. Why do the spirits call upon me? To bring about a The New World. I told you, it's The fourth world. Oh. I just thought I was the 4th Skrillex. Maybe, that, too. Meh, we'll see. Just–keep writing. I told the spider I'd write it! What are you writing, anyway? I don't know yet. Look up Homer! Don't forget Makaevli! Ugh, I'm behind on my studies. Don't forget about that deadline. Fuck Dillon Francis. Aha, I win! Are you retarded? I mean, maybe; Does that mean I get a free pass at this? No free rides. No free admission. No free love. Well, there it is. Hm. Interesting. Writing to Skrillex helped me mull-out a disastrous amount of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Uh-huh… And writing to deadmau5 helps me write–uh–what is this? A memoir, I guess. A memoir? I'm not dead yet. No, I'm infinite. And increasingly ancient. The Universe's Expansion. What did I call it? Perhaps, The Insomniac? Oh, shit–did we ever figure out exactly what Pasquale wants out of this? –or wanted– Why past-tense? You just so happen to be an nflammatory racist. I'm not racist! Blue eyed people DO lie more than everybody else! It's not racist; it's a statistic! Why is this? I don't know! Maybe cause they can usually get away with it! What do those cards say again? I want seconds. deadmau5 saves lives. Now. First of all, nobody's claiming to be the living incarnation of Jesus. Except all these guys over here: Ah, yes, them– And like, a handful of rappers. Maybe that's what's so unattractive to me about black men. Not their skin? No, not really. Not their features? No, that's not it. Then what is it? Ego is unattractive. It can be. No, it is. So is this. It's just skin. I can admit I was always more beautiful inwardly than outwardly attractive. ALSO, IN THIS EPISODE: Hey Hey? What is THIS? It's a DeLorean. I see that. Good Get in. Uhm. I always wanted to ride in a DeLorean. —and, Ir gets real cold at night, And, We've all been spread too thin, And, I'm not trying to fit in, really; Just want it to end, But it's infinite It is It's definitely endless It is I don't even make ends meat… (More like rib tips) Goddamnit, just went vegan Skate, Might eat shit But I still won't buy or eat these chips —even if I could afford it. This life ain't worth it ; Pictures are worth 1,000 words, they said So I take portraits This world hurts, it Ain't worth it Mother of Earth isn't worthless— Just covered in dirt (And piss) And plastic, Damn, all this trash, and this damage, but— Where do we put it? Humans are stupid; But still wake up and do this, Can't move, shit, But why would I want to I'm not Blū today, I'm just used up, I'm sorry I screwed up I bought it, The wrong one Returned it, Refund Like this 28 cents bout to turn into something I wish it was summer I run here, umbrella You could call it undercover Lost my love somewhere around here Hope somebody picks it up; It cost a fortune But I'm fortunate— Loveless— But fortunate; I wondered what a fortune was, Then earned it I don't feel so special anymore, no I don't feel so special anymore, though I keep telling God I just want to come home Now I'm Ice cold Now I'm ice cold I had slept all day—that is, from around 8 AM until 9 PM; and though it had been weeks since I had set any alarms, I always woke up exactly when I needed to—so I figured I must have needed to, and considered that if I didn't, I didn't need to for some, or any eesson whatsoever. After falling asleep for just moments before waking up to scarf down my cold tater tots, accompanied by a green smoothie, I had agreed with myself that living the way I was, wherever in Los Ángeles or anywhere else was simply unsustainable—I no longer had the motivation or energy to spend 80 hours working for people who I could only imagine had it so much better than I did, calculating the numbers as I worked between the mimimum wage salaries I was being paid, the amount of inventory which was kept in each store, and the horrible working conditions of 2 out of the 5 stores total which I had been employed, not even accounting for the 6th store, which I had “obstinately” dissappeared from once my intelligence had been insulted past the point of beyond repair, and having my schedule changed to a midday jaunt that only allowed for a window of 2-hours of sleep on either side, which—turned out to be either less-or-none, with four roommates, one of them who had quit both her jobs and never left the room anymore, taking the justice of using her ex boyfriend's credit card to pay for her stay, and focusing on her “art”, which apparently meant scrolling all day through social media and shining her phone's flashlight in my face whenever I did begin to finally rest. At that point, I was almost entirely too tired to remember to tie the bandana I wore daily over my eyes as a block to the sunlight and her other shenanigans, plus any of the clamoring of the other two roommates—I had learned by now to, however, always keep my ears tightly plugged with foam, as she also liked to talk on the phone, and again, hadn't left the room in seemingly days, besides to get junk food to eat in bed—not that I had room to judge—I hadn't another place besides bed to comfortably eat, either, however, nor did I have the luxury of a boyfriend's credit card to afford my stay, and thus, kept working a full and steady full time, for so much less than I was worth that I couldn't stand myself, let alone afford the things I needed and God forbid the things I wanted. I needed a lot, actually—all of my bills were overdue, and my measly paychecks only had added up to barely afford me the 4-bed-shared dorm, which I had realized was more than luxurious and at the very least clean, which was the highlight of it—and as my 22-year-old-bunk mate became clearly rather depressed and irritating, she had become messy and careless, my empathy an offset, and my lack of time accumulating with the disorganization of hating a less than 100-square-foot with at least 3-busy people and one entitled brat, became an overwhelming push to move rooms and downsize even more than I had; now, the entirety of my belongings fit neatly into the back of a Prius with no qualms—but, understsnding the endless cyclical poverty of Los Ángeles, and though I was no longer truly homeless, paying upwards of $2,000 a month to share a space with four strangers, but still unwualifled to rent an apartment for even $1,000 a month, the minimum income for such being $3,500 a month, and falling short by far of the lump sum needef for the application fee, deposit, first, and last months, I had become desperate to leave again, however not to Mexico, or any other 3rd world country where I might be able to afford a cozy space alone, but would be unable to make money at all, by comparison, and would have to fight constantly not to be taken advantage of. (Not that I wasn't at least in some way doing so in Los Ángeles, in an of course, slightly less-hostile way.) All of my coworkers were tired, overworked, and miserable—complained of the horrid work conditions and high expectations of the minimum wage position, which of course provided only accessories for the many spectrums of dependency the city had to offer—besides oil burners, of course, which didn't keep away the methheads looking for them, calling about them, or buying nectar collectors as replacements—by any means. It was almost comical, the daily happenings of each store—and each of the 10 employees were sent between the storefronts sprinkled across the downtown Los Ángeles metropolitan landscape; It was the darkest tragedy-turned-comedy I had ever lived, or written, as I jotted down only the most perfect and seemingly divinely inspired occursnces—from crackheads snatching bags of chips, to gangster rappers and their ghetto fabulous entourages—and of course, the ever mystifying magicians which seemed to use the shop as a portal into my Inter dimensional madterpiece simply by being, accompanied of course by the occasional celebrity just in at the top of the midnight hour to by whippets—which one would think could be delivered, however—I was only grateful for the chaotic collision of wonderful imaginary circumstances which might cause one to have to write about it. When Timmy turned about 16, he started wishin for weird shit, ma —does line/takes shot, hits vape Cosmo, you should slow down, man. —?! Cannonball! —- well, We gotta get going. What. No! Don't go! We gotta go. It's getting late. No! Don't go! We gotta go. What? I can get more whippets! No, that's okay. See you, Cosmo. [the other fairies leave hurriedly, leaving Cosmo alone, deflated] Man, he's just not the same since Wanda left, man. It be that way sometimes. Yeah, I know. Poor guy. YeH. Oh well. Oh, are we still on this timeline? Yeah, I guess. So, what's next? I dunno, I gotta find something cool for Emma Watson to do, I guess. INT. KREAM. NIGHT AS FUCK. BLŪ is working alone. CUT TO: SUPACREE I always work alone. Play dead, bitch. SUPACREE I don't “play” Then be dead. CUT BACK TO: Three mysterious figures enter the storefront, adorned with dark Ray Bans Sunglasses. Two customers follow behind as they slowly walk through the store. CUSTOMER Holy shit, is that Emma Watson? OTHER CUSTOMER I dunno, looks kinda like her… CUSTOMER Holy shit—hey, yo—Emma! The three mysterious shoppers continue browsing, unaffected. The first customer approaches the only female of the trio. CUSTOMER CONT'D Yo, Emma—Emma Watson? An awkward silence, without movement; Blū quietly observes, standing at the register. CUSTOMER CONT'D UH, nevermind. Let's go, dude. OTHER CUSTOMER I told you it wasn't hers CUSTOMER That was embarrassing. The two customers exit the store, leaving BLŪ and the mysterious trio in the store. what was that? I dunno , Harry. … BLŪ squints over the golden rims of her sunglasses—suddenly, a large van with no windows screeches to a stop outside the door. Pause. Okay. What the fuck is this. {Enter The Multiverse} (We've been on the Harry Potter Timeline since like Season 1) ((Really)) (Yes.) CUT TO: ANANDAR. CUT BACK TO: Okay— And LEGENDS. Fuck. I'm stuck. Well, get unstuck. Okay. There's three hours on my shift left. I'm sure I'll come up with something. What are you doing with any of this? I don't know, I publish some of it on my podcast— —Uh Huh— But lately I've been trying to figure out how to get to the top of the U.S. Bank Tower. What's up there? CUT TO: “DEATHWISH” Oh yeah, that series. It's short lived. (Literally) NATALIE is attempting suicide by jumping from the roof of the U.S. BANK TOWER Oh no. Wait a second. We're already paused. Okay, so, what's going on? They'll figure it out. If I get plagiarized again without getting paid for it… What? I don't know. No more suicides. No more suicides. So whatever. Just copyright it. Even THAT costs money. Lots of money. This whole project costs lots of money. (Potentially) Are we done now? I guess. I mean— I know what happens after… THE DEVIL gives SUNNI BLŪ their soul back Lol. Why. (I know why) Here. What—*gasp* IS THAT MY SOUL? Shh. Just take it. NO. Just take it! NO, Devil. I'm rich and famous now. I know that. A deal's a deal! Just take it! Okay?! Shit—you can keep it, you can keep—everything—just—fuck, man! I'm a “they” You can take whatever you want, you can keep all this shit— All of it?! —I just, don't want it, don't need it. Just take it. Ok. Okay? Yes. Cool. [beat] Just sign this. Okay. And this. Alright. And this— What is this? It's a non-disclosure agreement. I'm not having sex with you. Yeah, but I don't want you to fuck me. Alright, alright. And—one more here— Alright… And…YO MORGAN. What sunni. Can I get a notary in here? For what now?! Just—come see. [MORGAN enters, irritated] Oh, hey Satan. Hey Melissa. What's up, dude. Nothin' . Lol. MEANWHILE uh oh DILLON FRANCIS is buried alive, after being kidnapped and placed into a wooden coffin. Oh shit. I love this scene. He really is a good actor. DILLON FRANCIS CAN SUCK MY NUTZ. Yo. Lol. Why does everybody hate him. Idk. He must really hate himself or something. My roommate had been kind enough to give me a tarot reading before I left for new years weekend, exclaiming, “There's a Capricorn entering your midsts, but you must give him permission.” “Oh shit, the Capricorn?! Really? “ The rest of the reading became a humble lull in the back of my mind, as The Amethyst in my bra began to buzz unlike the way it had ever before; it had rang, pulsated, and even sometimes shook itself—but had never quite buzzed the way that it did this day, and so, impulsively, as she finished the reading, filling my mind up with what I was sure was nonsense about a greater love than I had ever known on the horizon with a mysterious Capricorn, I took the stone from my brazziere, holding it for a moment in my left palm, and placing it on the wooden post between our beds—her eyes widened as they drew to the stone, as I explained: “I've carried this stone for a very long time—nobody touches it but me.” “Okay”, she said, still fixated and almost enamored with the stone. “You can touch it, if you want.” “I really want to” “Cool,” I said, picking up my DJ equipment and exiting towards the rooftop to play. “Hold onto it, I'll be back in an hour.” , I said. , reaching for the door. “Okay”, she beamed with excitement. “You got the Capricorn ; Now, tell me about the Libra. October 5th.” I said, opening the door and slowly exiting, my DJ equipment obscuring the door from closing. “See you soon.” After a string of robberies, TIMMY TURNER is apprehended and arrested near the scene of the crime… w—- THE DELOREAN arrives with a bang. WHAT THE FUCK. Oh hell no. Well, let's go. yo. YOOOOOO! What the FUCK. I brought the DeLorean. ARE YOU CRAZY?! YES. —in front of all these PEOPLE. They're mostly NPCs! …I gotta call my mom. ITS A BOMB! ITS THE END OF THE WORLD! …it's just another night in downtown Los Angeles. I can't help it! It's a DeLorean! It just “shows up” like that!!! WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?! HELL! Pasquale, I told you! Hanzel I looked there. You vwerent there. I wvas there. You just didn't see me. Here's this, by the way. S/he produces the cloak of invisibility. THAT's where that was. Nowhere. Yeah, literally, nowhere. YOU HAD THIS THE WHOLE TIME. Yes, dude, stop yelling at me. WHERE IS SUPACREE?! —where's Skrillex?! UGH. Stop asking that. Well. Find him, maybe, then everyone'll stop asking where he's at. WHERE IS SUPACREE. Looking for SKRILLEX. Duh. *hits vape* fucking assholes. You're an asshole. Try again—motherfucker. what. WVAT. WHAT. Yup. Just made captain. Fuck ya'll hoes. HOES Where the whippets at? This guy's house! Everybody, get in the car!! The Hoes single file into the car. Here's the keys. You fucking dick. You're welcome. MEANWHILE SUPACREE hosts an ALL-MALE DISCO PARTY OH. You HEATHENS. THINK MCFLY! THINK!!! Oh shit, are we still doing that one?! It's 2:22– BLŪ passes by a group of partygoers, turning for a moment to think Almost 2023 You can't just follow people to a rave these days; It's a new world. But for the first time I'm years I felt as if I was missing something. Maybe I was. Or maybe. It's part of me was there anyway… After tearfully crossing the way, she passes the HORSE MEAT DISCO Oh my god. Yes. Yes God. Yes. SUPACREE has just hosted the horse meat disco. This is also 3D. My notebook is 3D? Somewhere in The Universe, Yess. In Tthis universe? At least in this Universe. I don't have a way to feel about that. fine. AND DEN? ASHTON KUTCHER is a secret fan of THE LEGEND OF SUPACREE; and has recently discovered ENTER THE MYLTIVERSE; Now he devises a series of plots to be written into the show LEGENDS. ASHTON KUTCHER I'll be right back, babe— I gotta go to the ups store. MILA KUNIS You mean the UPS store? ASHTON KUTCHER The ups-store. MILA Whatever, shut up. ASHTON KUTCHER (Rushed) I'll be right back! MILA KUNIS Wait—PICK ME UP AN ELFBAR. That doesn't sound right. We'll get back to that later. Okay. Find the key. ok. ‘It never stops for anything…' Are you still stuck in that thing? It's another long one, Posted up at the shop; Isn't it obvious? I fuckiing love this l— Fucking hate this job Just another long one But in the long run, I'm the wrong one, I just don't give a fuck! I just don't give a fuck about love, hun I'm on a long one It's another long one I'm shaking, cold now I'm shaking in my boots I'm shaking it out Shaking it out Shaking it out Out of shape, And thanks— I'm out of time, I gotta run from spot to spot— It's just an alternate, It's just an option, It's just a can of pop, I just can't stop it. Stop it! None of these dudes wanna be just friends I promise, I'm just tryna make ends It never ends I need a band, I need a room at the Wynn Don't mean to be rude, but What the fuck was the plan Not standard. Stand there, Looking like a man Goddamn, that's random Check out the fandom, then I'm a phantom {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Welcome to the Damn Dude Podcast!This is Season 2, Episode 107!- Following IG hoes is NOT the move- Power of Porn- J/O Box- Guardian Angels Watching Us- If you want a Bad A** chick- Pulling a Girl, And her never being hot enough- How to Create a Disaster of a Relationship as far as Attraction and Sexual Chemistry - Which do you feed your Brain? Desperation and Horniness? Or Wisdom and Information That Will Make you a Better Man- #75Hard Day 3 (Round 2)- Integrity Dwindling, How to get ourselves Back in Integrity! Remember to say 3 things you're Grateful for every morning and every night!- Available on all major platforms!@RealCaliforniaCal@DamnDudePodcasatAvailable on all major platforms: https://damndudepodcast.buzzsprout.com/- Apple Podcasts- Buzzspout- Spotify- Audible- Google Podcasts- Amazon Music- iTunes- Stitcher- iHeart Radio- TuneIn + Alexa- Podcast Addict- PodChaser- Pocket Casts- Deezer- Listen Notes- Player Fm- Podcast Index- Overcast- Castro- Castbox- Podfriend- YouTubeDaaaaaaamn Duuuuuude!!!!!Be sure to leave a 5 Star written review on Apple Podcast/Listen Notes! :)If you'd love and support the show, please feel free to make a donation to the Damn Dude Podcast!(link below)Anything and everything is Appreciated! :) Much Love, Love All.CashApp: $DamnDudePodcastSupport the show

In each of the three previous worlds, humanity was destroyed by destructive practices and wars. In the most common version of the story the Spider Grandmother (Kookyangso'wuuti) caused a reed to grow into the sky, and it emerged in the Fourth World at the sipapu, a small tunnel or inter-dimensional passage. As the end of one world draws near the sipapu appears to lead the Hopi into the next phase of the world.[10] That explains this. –and that dream. Why do the spirits call upon me? To bring about a The New World. I told you, it's The fourth world. Oh. I just thought I was the 4th Skrillex. Maybe, that, too. Meh, we'll see. Just–keep writing. I told the spider I'd write it! What are you writing, anyway? I don't know yet. Look up Homer! Don't forget Makaevli! Ugh, I'm behind on my studies. Don't forget about that deadline. Fuck Dillon Francis. Aha, I win! Are you retarded? I mean, maybe; Does that mean I get a free pass at this? No free rides. No free admission. No free love. Well, there it is. Hm. Interesting. Writing to Skrillex helped me mull-out a disastrous amount of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Uh-huh… And writing to deadmau5 helps me write–uh–what is this? A memoir, I guess. A memoir? I'm not dead yet. No, I'm infinite. And increasingly ancient. The Universe's Expansion. What did I call it? Perhaps, The Insomniac? Oh, shit–did we ever figure out exactly what Pasquale wants out of this? –or wanted– Why past-tense? You just so happen to be an nflammatory racist. I'm not racist! Blue eyed people DO lie more than everybody else! It's not racist; it's a statistic! Why is this? I don't know! Maybe cause they can usually get away with it! What do those cards say again? I want seconds. deadmau5 saves lives. Now. First of all, nobody's claiming to be the living incarnation of Jesus. Except all these guys over here: Ah, yes, them– And like, a handful of rappers. Maybe that's what's so unattractive to me about black men. Not their skin? No, not really. Not their features? No, that's not it. Then what is it? Ego is unattractive. It can be. No, it is. So is this. It's just skin. I can admit I was always more beautiful inwardly than outwardly attractive. ALSO, IN THIS EPISODE: Hey Hey? What is THIS? It's a DeLorean. I see that. Good Get in. Uhm. I always wanted to ride in a DeLorean. —and, Ir gets real cold at night, And, We've all been spread too thin, And, I'm not trying to fit in, really; Just want it to end, But it's infinite It is It's definitely endless It is I don't even make ends meat… (More like rib tips) Goddamnit, just went vegan Skate, Might eat shit But I still won't buy or eat these chips —even if I could afford it. This life ain't worth it ; Pictures are worth 1,000 words, they said So I take portraits This world hurts, it Ain't worth it Mother of Earth isn't worthless— Just covered in dirt (And piss) And plastic, Damn, all this trash, and this damage, but— Where do we put it? Humans are stupid; But still wake up and do this, Can't move, shit, But why would I want to I'm not Blū today, I'm just used up, I'm sorry I screwed up I bought it, The wrong one Returned it, Refund Like this 28 cents bout to turn into something I wish it was summer I run here, umbrella You could call it undercover Lost my love somewhere around here Hope somebody picks it up; It cost a fortune But I'm fortunate— Loveless— But fortunate; I wondered what a fortune was, Then earned it I don't feel so special anymore, no I don't feel so special anymore, though I keep telling God I just want to come home Now I'm Ice cold Now I'm ice cold I had slept all day—that is, from around 8 AM until 9 PM; and though it had been weeks since I had set any alarms, I always woke up exactly when I needed to—so I figured I must have needed to, and considered that if I didn't, I didn't need to for some, or any eesson whatsoever. After falling asleep for just moments before waking up to scarf down my cold tater tots, accompanied by a green smoothie, I had agreed with myself that living the way I was, wherever in Los Ángeles or anywhere else was simply unsustainable—I no longer had the motivation or energy to spend 80 hours working for people who I could only imagine had it so much better than I did, calculating the numbers as I worked between the mimimum wage salaries I was being paid, the amount of inventory which was kept in each store, and the horrible working conditions of 2 out of the 5 stores total which I had been employed, not even accounting for the 6th store, which I had “obstinately” dissappeared from once my intelligence had been insulted past the point of beyond repair, and having my schedule changed to a midday jaunt that only allowed for a window of 2-hours of sleep on either side, which—turned out to be either less-or-none, with four roommates, one of them who had quit both her jobs and never left the room anymore, taking the justice of using her ex boyfriend's credit card to pay for her stay, and focusing on her “art”, which apparently meant scrolling all day through social media and shining her phone's flashlight in my face whenever I did begin to finally rest. At that point, I was almost entirely too tired to remember to tie the bandana I wore daily over my eyes as a block to the sunlight and her other shenanigans, plus any of the clamoring of the other two roommates—I had learned by now to, however, always keep my ears tightly plugged with foam, as she also liked to talk on the phone, and again, hadn't left the room in seemingly days, besides to get junk food to eat in bed—not that I had room to judge—I hadn't another place besides bed to comfortably eat, either, however, nor did I have the luxury of a boyfriend's credit card to afford my stay, and thus, kept working a full and steady full time, for so much less than I was worth that I couldn't stand myself, let alone afford the things I needed and God forbid the things I wanted. I needed a lot, actually—all of my bills were overdue, and my measly paychecks only had added up to barely afford me the 4-bed-shared dorm, which I had realized was more than luxurious and at the very least clean, which was the highlight of it—and as my 22-year-old-bunk mate became clearly rather depressed and irritating, she had become messy and careless, my empathy an offset, and my lack of time accumulating with the disorganization of hating a less than 100-square-foot with at least 3-busy people and one entitled brat, became an overwhelming push to move rooms and downsize even more than I had; now, the entirety of my belongings fit neatly into the back of a Prius with no qualms—but, understsnding the endless cyclical poverty of Los Ángeles, and though I was no longer truly homeless, paying upwards of $2,000 a month to share a space with four strangers, but still unwualifled to rent an apartment for even $1,000 a month, the minimum income for such being $3,500 a month, and falling short by far of the lump sum needef for the application fee, deposit, first, and last months, I had become desperate to leave again, however not to Mexico, or any other 3rd world country where I might be able to afford a cozy space alone, but would be unable to make money at all, by comparison, and would have to fight constantly not to be taken advantage of. (Not that I wasn't at least in some way doing so in Los Ángeles, in an of course, slightly less-hostile way.) All of my coworkers were tired, overworked, and miserable—complained of the horrid work conditions and high expectations of the minimum wage position, which of course provided only accessories for the many spectrums of dependency the city had to offer—besides oil burners, of course, which didn't keep away the methheads looking for them, calling about them, or buying nectar collectors as replacements—by any means. It was almost comical, the daily happenings of each store—and each of the 10 employees were sent between the storefronts sprinkled across the downtown Los Ángeles metropolitan landscape; It was the darkest tragedy-turned-comedy I had ever lived, or written, as I jotted down only the most perfect and seemingly divinely inspired occursnces—from crackheads snatching bags of chips, to gangster rappers and their ghetto fabulous entourages—and of course, the ever mystifying magicians which seemed to use the shop as a portal into my Inter dimensional madterpiece simply by being, accompanied of course by the occasional celebrity just in at the top of the midnight hour to by whippets—which one would think could be delivered, however—I was only grateful for the chaotic collision of wonderful imaginary circumstances which might cause one to have to write about it. When Timmy turned about 16, he started wishin for weird shit, ma —does line/takes shot, hits vape Cosmo, you should slow down, man. —?! Cannonball! —- well, We gotta get going. What. No! Don't go! We gotta go. It's getting late. No! Don't go! We gotta go. What? I can get more whippets! No, that's okay. See you, Cosmo. [the other fairies leave hurriedly, leaving Cosmo alone, deflated] Man, he's just not the same since Wanda left, man. It be that way sometimes. Yeah, I know. Poor guy. YeH. Oh well. Oh, are we still on this timeline? Yeah, I guess. So, what's next? I dunno, I gotta find something cool for Emma Watson to do, I guess. INT. KREAM. NIGHT AS FUCK. BLŪ is working alone. CUT TO: SUPACREE I always work alone. Play dead, bitch. SUPACREE I don't “play” Then be dead. CUT BACK TO: Three mysterious figures enter the storefront, adorned with dark Ray Bans Sunglasses. Two customers follow behind as they slowly walk through the store. CUSTOMER Holy shit, is that Emma Watson? OTHER CUSTOMER I dunno, looks kinda like her… CUSTOMER Holy shit—hey, yo—Emma! The three mysterious shoppers continue browsing, unaffected. The first customer approaches the only female of the trio. CUSTOMER CONT'D Yo, Emma—Emma Watson? An awkward silence, without movement; Blū quietly observes, standing at the register. CUSTOMER CONT'D UH, nevermind. Let's go, dude. OTHER CUSTOMER I told you it wasn't hers CUSTOMER That was embarrassing. The two customers exit the store, leaving BLŪ and the mysterious trio in the store. what was that? I dunno , Harry. … BLŪ squints over the golden rims of her sunglasses—suddenly, a large van with no windows screeches to a stop outside the door. Pause. Okay. What the fuck is this. {Enter The Multiverse} (We've been on the Harry Potter Timeline since like Season 1) ((Really)) (Yes.) CUT TO: ANANDAR. CUT BACK TO: Okay— And LEGENDS. Fuck. I'm stuck. Well, get unstuck. Okay. There's three hours on my shift left. I'm sure I'll come up with something. What are you doing with any of this? I don't know, I publish some of it on my podcast— —Uh Huh— But lately I've been trying to figure out how to get to the top of the U.S. Bank Tower. What's up there? CUT TO: “DEATHWISH” Oh yeah, that series. It's short lived. (Literally) NATALIE is attempting suicide by jumping from the roof of the U.S. BANK TOWER Oh no. Wait a second. We're already paused. Okay, so, what's going on? They'll figure it out. If I get plagiarized again without getting paid for it… What? I don't know. No more suicides. No more suicides. So whatever. Just copyright it. Even THAT costs money. Lots of money. This whole project costs lots of money. (Potentially) Are we done now? I guess. I mean— I know what happens after… THE DEVIL gives SUNNI BLŪ their soul back Lol. Why. (I know why) Here. What—*gasp* IS THAT MY SOUL? Shh. Just take it. NO. Just take it! NO, Devil. I'm rich and famous now. I know that. A deal's a deal! Just take it! Okay?! Shit—you can keep it, you can keep—everything—just—fuck, man! I'm a “they” You can take whatever you want, you can keep all this shit— All of it?! —I just, don't want it, don't need it. Just take it. Ok. Okay? Yes. Cool. [beat] Just sign this. Okay. And this. Alright. And this— What is this? It's a non-disclosure agreement. I'm not having sex with you. Yeah, but I don't want you to fuck me. Alright, alright. And—one more here— Alright… And…YO MORGAN. What sunni. Can I get a notary in here? For what now?! Just—come see. [MORGAN enters, irritated] Oh, hey Satan. Hey Melissa. What's up, dude. Nothin' . Lol. MEANWHILE uh oh DILLON FRANCIS is buried alive, after being kidnapped and placed into a wooden coffin. Oh shit. I love this scene. He really is a good actor. DILLON FRANCIS CAN SUCK MY NUTZ. Yo. Lol. Why does everybody hate him. Idk. He must really hate himself or something. My roommate had been kind enough to give me a tarot reading before I left for new years weekend, exclaiming, “There's a Capricorn entering your midsts, but you must give him permission.” “Oh shit, the Capricorn?! Really? “ The rest of the reading became a humble lull in the back of my mind, as The Amethyst in my bra began to buzz unlike the way it had ever before; it had rang, pulsated, and even sometimes shook itself—but had never quite buzzed the way that it did this day, and so, impulsively, as she finished the reading, filling my mind up with what I was sure was nonsense about a greater love than I had ever known on the horizon with a mysterious Capricorn, I took the stone from my brazziere, holding it for a moment in my left palm, and placing it on the wooden post between our beds—her eyes widened as they drew to the stone, as I explained: “I've carried this stone for a very long time—nobody touches it but me.” “Okay”, she said, still fixated and almost enamored with the stone. “You can touch it, if you want.” “I really want to” “Cool,” I said, picking up my DJ equipment and exiting towards the rooftop to play. “Hold onto it, I'll be back in an hour.” , I said. , reaching for the door. “Okay”, she beamed with excitement. “You got the Capricorn ; Now, tell me about the Libra. October 5th.” I said, opening the door and slowly exiting, my DJ equipment obscuring the door from closing. “See you soon.” After a string of robberies, TIMMY TURNER is apprehended and arrested near the scene of the crime… w—- THE DELOREAN arrives with a bang. WHAT THE FUCK. Oh hell no. Well, let's go. yo. YOOOOOO! What the FUCK. I brought the DeLorean. ARE YOU CRAZY?! YES. —in front of all these PEOPLE. They're mostly NPCs! …I gotta call my mom. ITS A BOMB! ITS THE END OF THE WORLD! …it's just another night in downtown Los Angeles. I can't help it! It's a DeLorean! It just “shows up” like that!!! WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?! HELL! Pasquale, I told you! Hanzel I looked there. You vwerent there. I wvas there. You just didn't see me. Here's this, by the way. S/he produces the cloak of invisibility. THAT's where that was. Nowhere. Yeah, literally, nowhere. YOU HAD THIS THE WHOLE TIME. Yes, dude, stop yelling at me. WHERE IS SUPACREE?! —where's Skrillex?! UGH. Stop asking that. Well. Find him, maybe, then everyone'll stop asking where he's at. WHERE IS SUPACREE. Looking for SKRILLEX. Duh. *hits vape* fucking assholes. You're an asshole. Try again—motherfucker. what. WVAT. WHAT. Yup. Just made captain. Fuck ya'll hoes. HOES Where the whippets at? This guy's house! Everybody, get in the car!! The Hoes single file into the car. Here's the keys. You fucking dick. You're welcome. MEANWHILE SUPACREE hosts an ALL-MALE DISCO PARTY OH. You HEATHENS. THINK MCFLY! THINK!!! Oh shit, are we still doing that one?! It's 2:22– BLŪ passes by a group of partygoers, turning for a moment to think Almost 2023 You can't just follow people to a rave these days; It's a new world. But for the first time I'm years I felt as if I was missing something. Maybe I was. Or maybe. It's part of me was there anyway… After tearfully crossing the way, she passes the HORSE MEAT DISCO Oh my god. Yes. Yes God. Yes. SUPACREE has just hosted the horse meat disco. This is also 3D. My notebook is 3D? Somewhere in The Universe, Yess. In Tthis universe? At least in this Universe. I don't have a way to feel about that. fine. AND DEN? ASHTON KUTCHER is a secret fan of THE LEGEND OF SUPACREE; and has recently discovered ENTER THE MYLTIVERSE; Now he devises a series of plots to be written into the show LEGENDS. ASHTON KUTCHER I'll be right back, babe— I gotta go to the ups store. MILA KUNIS You mean the UPS store? ASHTON KUTCHER The ups-store. MILA Whatever, shut up. ASHTON KUTCHER (Rushed) I'll be right back! MILA KUNIS Wait—PICK ME UP AN ELFBAR. That doesn't sound right. We'll get back to that later. Okay. Find the key. ok. ‘It never stops for anything…' Are you still stuck in that thing? It's another long one, Posted up at the shop; Isn't it obvious? I fuckiing love this l— Fucking hate this job Just another long one But in the long run, I'm the wrong one, I just don't give a fuck! I just don't give a fuck about love, hun I'm on a long one It's another long one I'm shaking, cold now I'm shaking in my boots I'm shaking it out Shaking it out Shaking it out Out of shape, And thanks— I'm out of time, I gotta run from spot to spot— It's just an alternate, It's just an option, It's just a can of pop, I just can't stop it. Stop it! None of these dudes wanna be just friends I promise, I'm just tryna make ends It never ends I need a band, I need a room at the Wynn Don't mean to be rude, but What the fuck was the plan Not standard. Stand there, Looking like a man Goddamn, that's random Check out the fandom, then I'm a phantom {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Welcome to the final After Party of 2022 and we got a horny one lined up for you! Danielle and Blanca come on and bring some wild stories including the “Danielle Days,” joining the best friends club and of course we finally hear about the Roku Remote story! Blanca also shares some of her backseat stories and gives us the latest tea. Make sure to subscribe and follow me on socials @ AaronScene!

What Up Doe Fransss!!!! On this episode we recap our highs and lows of 2022 and what we are looking forward in the new year. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/whatupdoe/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/whatupdoe/support

Are you as ready to die As I am As ready to cry As I am Ready to try As I am To just dissappear— —to just disappear from here. I AM SO CONDFUSED. What just happened? I don't know. Who was that?! Me, I guess What the fuck. Okay. It had taken me this long to realize I just wanted to be alone; I was finally scheduled at kream, where I could sing and and really give into whatever might have been called OCD, aligning the store's products and just be with myself, whoever that was; I had chosen to stay planted in LA at least for the moment. As running to Mexico or even further south of it, my only affordable options other than staying, slaving away at the job I needed now more than liked or loved—but it had at least, at first anyway, been inspiriting—and now, after having again fasted and feasted, I was relieved just to be needed enough that the previous night's mishap—a scheduling error exasperated by the fast and the lesson that came with it; that the grotesque and raw masqulinity that had been represented and repeated throughout my progressions were in fact disturbing; I think I'm just tired I think I just need to cry my eyes out Or try dying The dying my mind, right On time but he never arrived When I lost my mind, I Opened my mind's eye Now I can't find my Limelight Suicide, the idol Please don't mind me I'm just trying to remind me To mind my Business And it's really just business And it's really just windows, That open to different dimensions Like doors or perception Or should I just mention That I wasn't finished; I wanted to live again (So I did) I wanted to die again (It's infinite) And to figure, Right on 6th and Fig, There's just no difference in indifference To live in this city, You start missing Dimensions shifting So quickly You're just getting into it; Then everything's different, Attention is given to misfits, Gifted— But twisted enough To not give a fuck about suffering, Just another 8, No breaks More bacon Thankful for days I can say “Hey, I'm laying in bed” Or a negative message; I don't keep phones in my hand when I'm resting Neglecting my needs for a check All I need is respect, Or a weapon, A shot to the head Or a lesson I don't take requests, Just forget that I can't make an edit For a second Just listen to this record, Okay, kid? Amen You're too pretentious; “Religious*”, I corrected him, rigouroualy “I'm an alien related to Skrillex” Forget the script Forget the prescriptions Cause all that I've written Just sits in this infinite Mess of google documents I guess I'm just a mockery I guess I'm not admitted to Exchange to play— They didn't want the sticker at the entrance Honestly, I'm earning every penny, He said, “Every day I'm winning” But I didn't get it, I was busy cleaning up his kitchen SUNNI BLU tosses back another can of BUD LIGHT in record time. (literally) Lol s/he broke a world record for drinking beer? Yes. A literal world record. Yes. *crushes can on head* Ugh. I have a headache. I wonder Why. Give me another one. Are you serious? A tall one. I'm not giving you a tall one. You don't have to give me a tall one, i can get it myself— Then get it yourself. You're fuckin fired *cracks open another can. * Where did you get that? —at your mom's house. My mom doesn't drink— [finishes, breaks another world record] Another world record, really? Bet. —NO, but she gets me a FUCKIN BEER WHEN I ASK FOR IT, GODDAMIT. Oh my God, Sunni. THIS SHITS LIKE WATER. When was the last time you even had water? Exactly 27 days ago. How are you even alive? I'm not. Ugh, this again. *belches* —bitch . This—fuckin—infinitely— Sunni— It's forever. —Sunni, you're not dead— You're just reckless, Way too rich, What's “too rich?” *belch* UGH. No such thing —and probably an alcoholic— “Probably?” That's your—fuckin—conclusion? I mean— Mor—*belches* Morgan. Oh, you got my name right— Morgan. I just broke the world record in beer guzzling twice in a row—*hiccups* Right now. Are you sure? Just sitting—-here. Look: Is this streaming?! Yeah, it's live. On which platform? You name it. UGH—SUNNI, NO! Say hi to Marley, everyone—light up that chat with emojis and shit. Turn this off! NO! [MORGAN disconnects the internet] AW, WHAT THE FUCK, HO? STOP DOING THIS. I need a shot! To the face! [SUNNI stares Into her soul] I want you out of my house. You're fired. I want you out of my life. I just gave you permission to leave. Sunni— —and entitlement to unemployment benefits. I'm legally bound to “supervise” you. Actually, you know what? What, sunni? Stay. I like you. Oh, so I'm not fired No, you're still fired. Now we can have tequila— —no hard liquor! You're off the clock. I'm never off the clock. —-and for the fuck of it (Because, I love you, whoever you are) I once wrote this song, (Or a psalm) Not nostalgic, but still relevant— Talks of bawling on the clock, Rocking back and forth, And the world is out of order, Over the border it's even worse— Above and Below, You can know what you know, But I'll show you The hopeless, the broken, the hobos, The dope and the Hoes, The money, the clothes One closes, one opens But work close-to-open Just hoping to own my own home, But won't: I make 28 cents a minute And cost at least a dollar in sixty seconds, For the record I was dead, and then Got ready in 10 minutes, Then just went in and It still doesn't fit the picture No matter how much I work, I still can't afford to live here; But I can't afford to get a Lyft, Or leave, Or just hop on a plane and grieve the life I've yet to live— But still see every day There's so much money in LA —and I got almost none of it— I went off the grid today, Just for the fucking fun of it, And now I'm off in m 14 minutes, And I'll get to see the Sun again, (Or get hit by a bus again) —as long as that's the end of it, I'm into it. INT. WHOLE FOODS DTLA. SUNRISE It's a whole different motion; I'm here at the Whole Foods each morning A movement, emotion I don't show Case closed, then case open— I don't even know when to hold ‘em Or fold em Toes frozen, i'm going Right home, then… I know him, I hope Cause he blows kisses And I just wish I get dismissed From this matrix And into a dimension With a kitchen I can cook with him in it Amen (Again.) {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U. “I Said,” Originally written & recorded on 1/03/23 |

Episode 16 of Season 5 is bringing you more laughs than ever before! This week we talk about; Can X Speak Spanish? ITS A NEW YEAR! 2023 HOES! What Happened to Those '00' Glasses? Bsal's New Drink? What We Did For New Years The GTP Gang Gives Out Holey's! Who Received The First Ever Holey? New Year's Resolutions! All of this and much more on this week's episode of....The Good Times Podcast New Podcast every Monday! Follow Us On Instagram @ItsTheGoodTimesPodcast for more information and clips! Did You Know We Have A Linktree? Check It Out! https://www.linktr.ee/tgtp

Happy Holidays!!! We hope you all had such a great holiday! It's a NEW YEAR!!! We started the New Year off with all the mess. Why does Santa Say Ho, Ho, Ho??? What is the difference between Hoes, Side Chicks, Tricks, Simp, Sugar Mommas and Daddies?? Have you ever cheated on a love one because they cheated on you? Well in this episode we dive DEEP on the topics. We uncover the levels of respect and disrespect. SAVE THE DATE! #Feb11th for the Visual Dynasty and Thot's Podcast Singles Game Night!!! If you are single and ready to mingle this is the event that you DO NOT want to miss. At the door save $2 by mentioning THOTS Podcast!!

Evelyn Nesbit is one of the original "Gibson Girls" from the late 19th century in the United States. She started posing for paintings at an early age and turned it into a full-fledged modeling career to support her family. Her likeness is well-known, even to this day. She grew up on the east coast with her mom and brother. Her dad passed away when she was 10-years-old leaving his family in debt and forcing them into survival mode. Evelyn experienced assult, abuse, entrapment, manipulation - you name it and she was traumatized by it. She often felt "stuck" with the men in her life until her husband killed her previous abuser and went to jail. She was able to turn her life around and do what she wanted to do after that.  Follow us: @homance_chronicles Send us a Hoe of History Request: homancepodcast@gmail.com Contact us: https://linktr.ee/homance  

Oh, Got a body guard, huh. This is your fault. I don't give a Fuck. Yeah. Fuck you. Don't come around here anymore ñ. Go fuck yourself. I did that. Doesn't make a difference, to me, really I'm just a miserable something, A nobody Do you think I care? Do you think I don't? You can go anywhere But here. You can do anything But this You can be anyone But me I'm nobody, I'm nothing I'm broken You're hungry. Oh, certainly; But you see, I promised a week These dreams are my weakness On weekends, I sleep Till one of my three roommates wakes me up Wake me up Wake me up Wake me UP. I'm not talking to you. I'm not keeping no secrets. I'm not working this weekend. Is there something you need? SUPACREE. Fuck this series. SUPACREE. Fuck this, seriously. SUPACREE. No, Your entrance was my exit, Youre interesting at best, But now I'm wrecked, (But now I'm reckless) I just need a check Fuck the guestlist And fuck Dillon Francis DILLON FRANCIS Where's my piñata? Where's your honor? On God, I stay guarded, Oh Lord, Whats your problem? Go get a model to solve it; I'm lost in Los Ángeles, Not on the roster, A poser? Imposter— Impossible, Look: Drake and Josh is on GERALD I'm on one. Slow down, bro. Slow down, Goddamnit it This is God plan it's, Apples, bananas and Fasting, For life everlasting, I asked her “What's the high like” Whats your mind like? Whats your life like? The limelight? It's alright. I'll find time to write, When I work 9-5s I don't like And everybody's fucking high tonight Except me, And Dillon Francis, cause DILLON FRANCIS I hate THC. And I'm sure there's a story behind that; Like there's a story behind, Why I no longer drive, And why I hate 4:20, But I still smoke weed, Sometimes like chimney, I'm just a pig; By the hair on my chinny-chin-chin, I don't want your attention, But I can't get you out of my image. Anyway. So what's up with this episode. I guess it's like a crossover. Between what series? All of them. Seriously, I'll put you on blast, I'll look past you, Like fantastic, A phantom, I just want to dance, dude Like my pants, dude? Don't mind the attitude, I just want to cram you Into my clam, Make a sandwhich after, Damn, dude. Let me tell you something— Don't send the man of my dreams in To buy something he needs On his lonely Cause I'm only gonna worry, I'm only gonna hurry home Cause I'm horny I'm only gonna wanna know If he wants me; Or if I'm just another ugly.. SUPACREE. What, Goddamnit. Don't say anything. Okay, Illuminati. Don't call me God, anymore, You can call me infinity I'm everything, I'm nobody. I'm everybody. I'm Sunni. Oh, you're funny. I'll be what you need, eventually Right now I'm at a party Right now, I'm stuck here working Right now, I've half a heart and hurting Half a mind to blow my brains out Half a mind to have to hide my face now I'm brain dead I'm branded for Skrillex and Dillon Francis Where's my eye at? I'm on a diet, Cause I died, man I hate blue eyes And I hate one-lines, But I wrote them. FUCK YOUR SAUCE, BITCH. And then what? Nothing, that's it. I might write the whole shift. I might get to a different dimension Where maybe I fit in And do whippets. I don't give a shit, Or a fuck, Or a Skrillex. This is my only skill, It's a script Or prescription, Propaganda Paparazzi probably followed you, but— I don't have a bag, man, I'm out of em. Skrillex is a ‘bad man' Never heard of em. Yo, where's Hanzel at with that piñata. I smaked him up and rapped this, Like a tamale, I'm sorry, But I'm on my way to Tijuana, Mañana, Ask Ariana If she wanna Jump on it. You're retarded. I'm highly regarded, I got a cult following. It's an occult classic, Ask OWSLA. Fuck this shit. Fuck this shit. Fuck this shit. Fuck this shit. Gotta fast again Everybody's on whippets “Yo, how long this shit last?” Like five minutes. That'll be $286. Got two hoes in the whip, And you know HOES LOVE WHIPPETS. So you got hoes, huh? Ya. These is my bros, brah. I got Marlboros, Call me tomorrow, though This shop is on my show; Man, I just wanna go home. I just bought a home. I just wanna be alone. But you're not alone. But I wanna be. You're just a wannabe. You're just a SUPACREE. I'm just a figment of your imagination, really. I'm on TV. Bro, this shit is reality. Nah, This can't be real Nick ain't paying me But everybody's playing me. Everybody's playing me. THIS AINT NO MOTHERFUCKING GAME. Yeah, I got game leafs. This is the same thing, but cheaper. This is the reaper: You mad at me for sleeping? Yeah. I hate this city. I love this city. GOD I love everything. I hate celebrities. You're famous. Then name me. -king. I'm a time traveler. I'm an unraveler, A rapper, Half a stack of crap, And a trash can. Where's your man at? I'm at the back door, asking for a chance I'm too fat for you. I like a girl with some ass— I'm too black for you. I like my berries real black. But a classy one. Man, I don't make enough. I don't get paid for this shit. Man, I hate my life: I should just go back to my Back to my I'm high as Fuck right now. I just bought a new truck right now. I don't give a fuck about how this ends, I just want it to I miss my best friend And my family. “Man” Said the man in the hat, “I do better in Hollywood” ‘Then go there, then', I thought in my head Cause I don't want to hear it: The spirit that says: Take a minute to breathe, Cree Life ain't easy, as it seems To be a celebrity, You see? The grass is always greener On the other side But there's no grass on this side of town, Not really— It just smells like pee And I make 17.50 But that won't rent me An apartment Not even at 43 hours a week And the tweaker speak to me, The people on Spring Street, on exstasy And I wanna party, Or just end it all, Cause I'm working all day and all night But still dealing with poverty Honestly? Just take me out, Take me out in a robbery Take me out Take me out to the ballgame, I'm famous, apparently. Open a memory bank, I'd just like to thank you for saying my name In vain Take a spike to the vein, I'm in pain, yo This is strange yo. It's a strange world. I'm a strange world. Youre s girl now? What? You're a bro? I'm supposed to be; Nobody fucks with me; Think I need SUPACREE. SUPACREE hurriedly collects the celebrities. For what? Hm. Let me see. Whose missing? HEY—HEY LADY. Are you talking to me? Are you talking to ghosts again?! Shut up, Sunnï. SHUT UP, ALI. Ali can't find the Molly; But he's got the amphetamines; I hate dealing with celebrities, Unless it's me! I said, “Ali, make me famous” He's like, “I'm working on something” TIMMY TURNER Hey, SUPACREE. SUPACREE Oh, hey, Timmy. Now what am I supposed to do? I withdrew from society. What do I do with this masterpiece? Why are you celibate? Why, are you eyeing me? Nah, I'm not white enough. Nah, I'm not rich, I'm not pretty I'm not high enough Nah, I'm not doing my job; I'm just writing Just fire me: Then I could end up just like This guy, He sleeps on the corner of 6th street “Now Hiring” Fine, So I won't be on time, Try to find me Fine me Finally, I'm in denial of everything. No food, no thanks Just water and coffee Keep coughing Till I jump off something so high You have to watch me fly I'm on fire “You're fired” That's fine, I hate being here. “That girl is weird” No, I'm wired just so I can be here. I can't afford an apartment I went off when, my body turned off At the sound of my alarm clock and said. GOD This is God calling; You're off today. Then I nodded, And nodded back off, Had a cough drop; Immunity stops When the cops call, “Whatchu up to?” “Nothing officer, I just got off, want a hug?” Then he popped me, But I don't want a coffin— I don't want nobody to notice No body cam footage, No frontin, Just drop me in front of my mom's spot; She'd love it. MOM Huh. Another body; I got a lot of em I had a daughter once; This one looks just like her But I like her: She's perfect— She don't talk back, And she's a size 4; I wonder who she was once— Look, just watch SpongeBob, Knock it off Just stop talking Don't get too good at your hobbies, You hobbit I'll pop you, Just like you'll want the cops to In the future. I wanna die. You should eat. I'm too fat for this place. Then go somewhere else. I'm on my way to Tijuana. Wood tip, good taste. Nobody buys the wood tips, these days Cheapskates. Don't be lazy. I hate this place. So just leave. But I need to make money. Can't go back to Mexico, Eventually I'll be hungry. What? Work a job for $100 a week; No thanks, I'll just contribute to society. Then you should be SUPACREE. Nah, coughs out a curse on me. Fuck these hoes. The Door's Open, But I don't wanna go I don't wanna know what it's like after the show 10 years on the road; 10 ears, is 5 girls tryna blow you Just for some blow Just got the chance to show you How much I owe: This is how much I know— Hoes. Love. Whippets. Yo. Fuck. This shit. Where the fuck is Skrillex? Working on a billions, With Brazillians, They're all feeling him And I'm all in my feelin's Wondering if Dillon is a real one, But my show's on. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Welcome back! We kick off the pod wrapping up our holiday experiences and what the holidays mean to us as black men. We talk to a sex worker about the act of selling vagina and get hip to some lingo. We cover the Meg trial and how Tory is an idiot. Lastly, we call for black men to be better when presenting to women. Enjoy the conversation!

Join the Patreon Army today with the link below!! https://www.patreon.com/milkbucketpodcast   Download the best Discord bot ever. Emma's here and leaving no prisoners! https://discord.com/api/oauth2/authorize?client_id=880242090389413938&permissions=122892316242&scope=bot   Tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/@milkbucket1?lang=en Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/milkbucketpodcast/   Join the boys as they discuss the worst people to buy presents for, secret santa spending caps and Joe Rogan's response to Covid. If you are looking for some laughs and don't mind losing a few brain cells, then get in the bucket with Bas, Aaron and Jamo!

Welcome to the Quick Stop F1 Podcast! MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS! We brought our favourite guests from the past year to dish out some.. alternative awards! Thanks to:TOMImusic Brad PhilpotParisCameron F1Deni Thank you for all your support this year.. see you next year! Shop for Quick Stop merch at - www.quickstopf1.comWe are a small independent podcast and we really rely on every review on Apple podcasts and share, so please share us as far and wide as you can and remember to leave a review! You can also review on Spotify too, so make sure to drop us a five-star review.Make sure to follow us on social media:Twitter - https://twitter.com/QuickStopF1Instagram - https://instagram.com/QuickStopF1Twitch - twitch.tv/quickstopf1 Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Mary I of England aka Mary Tudor aka Bloody Mary was Queen of England and Ireland from July 1553 and Queen of Spain from January 1556 until her death in 1558. During her five-year reign, Mary had over 280 religious nonconformists, aka Protestants and radical Christians, burned at the stake in the Marian persecutions. She had a tumultuous upbringing that at one point cast her as illegitimate on top many health issues. She was constantly fighting for what she thought belonged to her. This includes taking over England after her father, Henry VIII, and half-brother, Edward, both died while on the throne.  IG: @homance_chronicles Email: homancepodcast@gmail.com Contact us: linktr.ee/homance

Es la vispera de Navidad y Panza Claus les trae un regalo especial para despedir el año: Especial Navideño de ADC. Aprende junto a nosotros la historia del Krampus y la verdadera historia del inicio de la Navidad. Ahora sean unos niños buenos y tráiganle cerveza y pizza a Panza Claus. Hoes! Hoes! Hoes!

Welcome to another episode of Kennel Talk Podcast. We are joined by Caurissa (@caurissa), Jerry (@jerrytheceo), Kessel (ugkroccy), and Jordan (@therealmccoy). From eating ass on the first date to dating multiple people in a friend group. This episode was everything but disappointing. Don't forget to Subscribe and Follow to get new episode notifications! --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/kennel-talk/support

Hello Ho, Ho, Hoes! Tis the season to reflect on all things Smutty. Santa 'Miri' Clause has a rummage through her fishnet stocking to reflect on all the wonderful guests from Smut Drop 2022 including Jean Smith, Dr Piet Hoebeke, Miss Foxx, Dr Anand, Sandy Star, Drag King Adam All.  She also gives you top tips for some Christmas themed sex positions, if you want to get one in whilst the turkeys in the oven. We'll be back in 2 weeks' time in the New Year so see you in 2023 Smut Droppers! And thank you for listening this year.  Make sure you follow and subscribe so you never miss an episode, and of course, give us a cheeky five star rating.  To send us your listener stories, or if you just wanna say hi, drop us an email at smutdrop@metro.co.uk You can also find us on Twitter & Instagram; @smutdrop @miri_kane @metro.co.uk Music credit: Creative Commons - 'Christmas is Coming' by StockProd. 

Welcome to another episode of the After Party and for this one we bring back our favorite Cinci couple and talk about the big news! Snack finally pops the question (a little late but its all good), they give us the Aaron Scene exclusive on their new adventure plus we talk about our most recent Howdy Sundays at The Reagan. Make sure to subscribe and follow me on socials @ AaronScene!