Podcasts about Krav Maga

Imagine a classroom where students face each other, rather than the whiteboard, and discuss David Ben-Gurion and Aristotle, while studying Hebrew and Latin. Welcome to Emet, the first classical Jewish prep school in the U.S. Founded in 2023 in New York City, Emet is pioneering a model that integrates Jewish wisdom with academic excellence, offering students an education where Judaism is infused seamlessly into academic subjects, from physical education (Krav Maga), to chemistry. In this thought-provoking conversation with Emet's founding Head of School, Rabbi Dr. Abraham Unger, learn how academic rigor is raising the bar for its students to build strength and character, inspiring children to become Jewish leaders of the future. This episode was produced by Dina Nusnbaum and Miranda Lapides. The show's executive producers are David Bryfman, Karen Cummins, and Nessa Liben. This episode was engineered and edited by Nathan J. Vaughan of NJV Media. If you enjoyed the show, please leave us a 5-star rating and review, or even better, share it with a friend. Be sure to subscribe wherever you listen to podcasts and be the first to know when new episodes are released. To learn more about The Jewish Education Project visit jewishedproject.org where you can find links to our Jewish Educator Portal and learn more about our mission, history, and staff. We are a proud partner of UJA-Federation of New York. 

All Woch bitt d'woxx Iech an hirem Podcast en Abléck an hir journalistesch Aarbecht a beliicht d'Hannergrënn vun engem Artikel. Dës Woch geet et ëm Frae-Selbstschutz: Tëscht Krav Maga, Orange Week a politescher Verantwortung stellt sech d'Fro, wat esou Coursë wierklech bréngen – a wat se net kënnen. Melanie Czarnik huet mat Trainer*innen an Expert*innen geschwat, an erzielt, firwat et heiansdo e Gefill vu Sécherheet gëtt, ouni dass d’Strukturen sech änneren.The post Frae-Selbstschutz first appeared on Radio ARA.

In this fierce and soulful episode, Colleen sits down with Kirsten Asher Brossette—founder of the School of Badassery—for a conversation that's equal parts grounding and electric.They dive deep into the duality of feminine and masculine energies, how to meet doubt with power, and what it really means to hold your own balance through each initiation.From the archetype of the Huntress to the expansion required at every new level—we explore what it means to embody your truth, lead from your inner edge, and stay radically devoted to your soul's evolution.This is for the warrior woman ready to trust herself, again and again.Tune in. Let it calibrate you.Xo Enjoy In 2019 Kirsten found herself sobbing on the floor in her bedroom, crippled with doubt and frustration. But what she came to realize is that wasn't rock bottom, it was a launchpad into the most pivotal chapter of her life. She was the catalyst she was waiting for...Now a key member of the leadership team at Beast Philanthropy, she's also a Holistic Health Practitioner, Breathwork Facilitator, trained in the Rapid Rewire Method and teaches dance as a way to connect to your soul. Kirsten also practices martial arts and Krav Maga, is an abstract artist and completed the MIT Program of Sustainability and DesignX receiving the Fire Hydrant Award for excellence.Where can you find her: @Kirsten.Asher.Brossette@SchoolofBadasserywww.schoolofbadassery.comColleen Lindberg is a Soul Mission Activator + Spiritual Strategist Here to dismantle the systems of conformity that keep powerful souls playing small — and ignite the full embodiment of their divine potency.Through her channeling, mentorship, and multidimensional frameworks, Colleen leads Light Warriors into deeper alignment with their mission, their frequency, and their unique soul blueprint.With over 16 years as a business consultant and spiritual mentor, she's helped spiritual entrepreneurs rise in visibility, authority, and wealth — not through hustle, but through energetic precision and unapologetic embodiment.A multi–5 figure per month entrepreneur for over a decade,Colleen is now anchoring consistent $100K+ months and guiding her clients to do the same — on their own terms, in their own truth, and with massive impact.She doesn't just teach abundance — she lives it. Leads it. Activates it.This is the revolution of sovereign leadership + limitless income. And if you're here, you're already part of it.xo Colleen

Krav Maga instructor, Lewis Groves joins me to get into what Krav Maga really is, where it comes from, and how it's different from traditional martial arts or rule-bound sports. We talk about training for the street rather than the ring, the value of simplicity under pressure, and why so many martial arts end up in fantasyland. We also cover ego, humility, gender differences, strength vs. skill, and why most guys think they can fight — when they really can't. If you've ever wondered what martial art is “best,” how to train smart not macho, or why being punched in the face might be the wake-up call you need — this one's for you. Find out more about Lewis' work here: kravmagaevolve.co.uk We're resharing this episode because it's one of our best, and packed with timeless insights that are still relevant today. If you missed it the first time, we think you'll love it. ------------------------------------------------------ Lewis Groves is the founder & Head Instructor of Krav Maga Evolve (KME). Lewis was previously Head Instructor for the UK for International Krav Maga (IKM). Lewis qualified as an Instructor with IKM in 2014 and previously trained in kickboxing and Wing Chun. He continues to train in boxing and Kickboxing as well as Krav Maga. ---------------------------------------------------------- Check out our YouTube channel for more coaching tips and our Podcast channel for full episode videos Uplevel your coaching with a free copy of Mark's latest eBook, The Top 12 Embodiment Coaching Techniques  Join Mark for those juicy in-person workshops and events Fancy some free coaching demo sessions with Mark?  Connect with Mark Walsh on Instagram 

I'm thrilled to bring you Episode 5 of Season 3 of The Luke Coutinho Show, featuring the Steel Man of India—Vispy Kharadi. A 16-time Guinness World Record holder, including the record for the Heaviest Weight Sustained on the Human Body (1,819 kg), Vispy is also the official ambassador of the Fit India Movement and a seasoned fitness & MMA expert. Tune in to discover:Mental Strength Secrets: How he overcame injuries, chaos, and imbalance during his record-breaking journeyThe Power of Martial Arts: How discipline and focus in early sports shaped his resilient mindReforming India's Youth: His bold vision for training youth through martial arts and sportsEmpowering Women: The importance of self-defense for women's safety and confidenceTraining India's Elite Forces: Enhancing combat readiness with techniques like Krav Maga and Jiu-JitsuVispy's Life Philosophy: Embrace discipline, simplicity, and strength to build mental resilience and a positive mindsetAnd much more…

Πόσο ακόμη ξύλο θα δούμε στο Warriors-Rockets ; Θα μπορέσουν οι Bucks να κάνουν την ανατροπή παρά τις τρελές του Doc; Ποια σειρά θα φτάσει στα 7 παιχνίδια;Follow Us: Insta: ⁠https://www.instagram.com/hacknrollpod/⁠X (Twitter): ⁠https://x.com/hacknrollpod⁠TikTok: ⁠https://www.tiktok.com/@hacknrollpod⁠Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@HacknRollVideos

Marcus Kowal is a Swedish-born martial artist, author, and activist with a multifaceted career spanning military service, professional fighting, entrepreneurship, and advocacy. He served in the Swedish Special Forces as an Army Ranger before transitioning to a distinguished career in martial arts. Kowal competed at elite levels across multiple disciplines, including MMA with Strikeforce, kickboxing with K-1, and boxing in the Golden Gloves tournament. He holds black belts in both kickboxing and Krav Maga. Beyond his athletic pursuits, Marcus is an accomplished entrepreneur and author. He founded Systems Training Center, a chain of martial arts and fitness facilities in Los Angeles. In his memoir, Life Is A Moment, Kowal candidly recounts the profound grief of losing his 15-month-old son, Liam, to a drunk driving incident in 2016. This tragedy led Marcus and his wife, Mishel, to establish Liam's Life Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to raising awareness about the dangers of impaired driving and advocating for stricter DUI laws. Through his diverse endeavors, Marcus Kowal exemplifies resilience and dedication, channeling personal loss into a mission to effect meaningful change.Sponsored by TACFIT.com “The World's Smartest Workout” Açai Jungle Cafe “Your neighborhood Paradise” AcaiJungleCafe.com

Today's guest is a true icon in the world of martial arts and tactical training. Avi Nardia is a world-renowned martial artist with decades of experience teaching across Europe, the Americas, and Asia. He is the founder and head instructor of KAPAP (Krav Panim El Panim), a practical self-defense system rooted in real-world applications, blending ... Avi Nardia – KAPAP/Krav Maga – Ep215

In this episode of the Move Swiftly Podcast, we're shining the spotlight on a true force in the entrepreneurial game — Kevin Plank, founder of Under Armour

Aaron Fears, a BJJ Brown Belt and Krav Maga instructor, join Rob and Randy to discuss using sports to improve your BJJ training, motivation and self defense.

Samedi 29 mars, l'équipe de la Matinale Week-end (9h-11h) a reçu Magalie Widmann de Schweighouse. Elle pratique le KRAV MAGA, une discipline sportive de self-défense. Écoutez le reportageHébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Welcome to The Times of Israel's Daily Briefing, your 20-minute audio update on what's happening in Israel, the Middle East and the Jewish world. NY correspondent Luke Tress joins host Amanda Borschel-Dan for today's Daily Briefing. Columbia University has agreed to a series of changes demanded by the Trump Administration as a precondition for restoring $400 million in federal funding the government pulled this month over the school’s handling of antisemitism on campus amid pro-Palestinian protests against Israel. Tress has been covering the anti-Israel protests that have erupted since October 7, 2023, when Hamas slaughtered 1,200 in southern Israel. We speak about new measures that Columbia is taking — especially the restriction of face masks — and discuss whether they will change the intensity of the protests. Relatedly, on Friday, detained Columbia University student activist Mahmoud Khalil appeared briefly in immigration court at a remote Louisiana detention center as his lawyers fight in multiple venues to try to free him. We discuss the continued debate within the Jewish community over immigration rights and free speech, versus the safety of Jewish students on campus. Finally, we speak about a trend among US Jews who are looking for increased self-protection through a variety of measures, including taking self-defense courses such as the Israeli martial art, Krav Maga, or, as in a piece we recently published, highly trained -- and highly expensive -- protection dogs. Please see today's ongoing liveblog for more updates. For further reading: Columbia agrees to Trump administration’s demands to address campus antisemitism Detained anti-Israel activist Khalil appears in Louisiana court as deportation looms Columbia University expels anti-Israel students for last year’s building takeover Another Columbia anti-Israel protester arrested, 3rd ‘self-deports’, US feds say US-Israeli company sells $125k protection dogs to Jews worried about security Subscribe to The Times of Israel Daily Briefing on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube, or wherever you get your podcasts. This episode was produced by the Pod-Waves. ILLUSTRATIVE IMAGE: Protesters rally in support of detained Palestinian activist Mahmoud Khalil outside Columbia University in New York on March 14, 2025. (AP Photo/Jason DeCrow)See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Justin Hai is the co-founder of In this episode Rebalance Health and Alastin Skincare on a mission to help society balance hormones & improve health.We discuss hormone optimization and why managing cortisol levels can drastically improve health and performance. Justin shares insights from his experience in Krav Maga, his entrepreneurial journey and how his wife's health struggles turned his latest venture into a deeply personal mission. We also touch on the effects of modern stressors, the importance of sleep, and practical steps to optimize health naturally.Rebalance HealthCheck out my Online Men's Coaching Community We Are The They and see how it's changing men's lives across the globe!Get my FREE guide with 45 Days of Simple Tips to Become a Better ManPick up my USA Today bestselling book Be One: How to Be a Healthy Man in Toxic TimesJoin the Real Men, Real Conversations Facebook Group

Robert Martin, ancien enquêteur de police, il a été chef de cabinet de la Direction Générale de la Police Nationale, il raconte son parcours hors du commun dans Flic guérisseur (Éd. Mama) lui qui est devenu magnétiseur. Jérôme Palazzolo, médecin psychiatre, psychothérapeute, professeur de psychologie clinique et médicale, son dernier ouvrage s'intitule Petit traité de self-défense psychologique - Comment gérer l'agressivité ? (Éd. Odile Jacob) Alexandre Chivot, président du club Krav Maga à Arcueil. Il est professeur de Krav Maga et l'enseigne depuis 8 ans aux enfants.Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

This week on The Home Defense Show Skip & Sara talk about the public's lack of confidence in the US food supply. Then they speak with author and radio host Rick Vuyst about how to start raising your own vegetables. In segment 3 firearms and Krav Maga instructor Steve Sulze talks about how to deal with bad neighbors without getting yourself shot.

Welcome to the Personal Development Trailblazers Podcast! In today's episode, we'll learn how to sharpen your mind, strengthen your body, and lead with confidence—all while staying calm and in control.Trea has a Bachelor's Degree in Psychology and a Master's Degree in Education, with an emphasis in Behavior Analysis. He worked in the field of Behavior Analysis for 17.5 years before becoming a full-time Krav Maga instructor, fitness instructor, breathing coach, and mindfulness instructor. He developed Krav Maga Houston's Youth Program, and their invite-only Master Program, which is designed to develop young balanced warriors using the 24 VIA character strengths, an understanding of common cognitive distortions and logical fallacies, while promoting internal and external situational awareness, non-violent de-escalation techniques, anti-bully strategies, and the courage to be an upstander rather than a bystander. Trea began contemplative practice in the mid-1990s, with a primary focus on Vipassana and Metta. He is passionate about sharing the benefits he has received from mindfulness training and leading others to experience the same life-enhancing outcomes. Trea is a Certified Mindfulness Teacher through Mindful Schools, a certified Unified Mindfulness Trainer, MMTCP trainer, MindSize trainer, certified mPEAK coach and a HeartMath coach.   Over the years, Trea began exploring the synergistic effect between meditation and breathing. This sent him on a journey exploring a variety of breathing approaches. He is a BREATHE Certified Coach with Dr. Belisa Vranich, and has received additional breathing certifications through Life Awareness Project, XPT Performance Breathing, Breathing for Warriors, and Jon Paul Crimi. He offers breathing exercises through a practical approach with the goal of teaching people how to breathe in a way that is optimal for each individual.   Trea is an instructor with Intentional Communication by Cynthia Kane. His communication journey began with the realization that communication is the foundation upon which our relationships are built, including our relationship with ourselves. He is passionate about helping others transcend conditioned communication patterns that are no longer serving them and witnessing the development of newfound courage and sense of freedom that results from Intentional Communication.   Trea believes it is by developing the physical body through martial arts, developing the mind through meditation and breathing practices, and developing right action through intentional communication that one becomes a thriving human being, poised to live up to one's unique human potential.Connect with Trea Here: facebook.com/nervousapesinstagram: @nervousapesWebsite: www.nervousapes.com===================================If you enjoyed this episode, remember to hit the like button and subscribe. Then share this episode with your friends.Thanks for watching the Personal Development Trailblazers Podcast. This podcast is part of the Digital Trailblazer family of podcasts. To learn more about Digital Trailblazer and what we do to help entrepreneurs, go to DigitalTrailblazer.com.Are you a coach, consultant, expert, or online course creator? Then we'd love to invite you to our FREE Facebook Group where you can learn the best strategies to land more high-ticket clients and customers. QUICK LINKS: APPLY TO BE FEATURED: https://app.digitaltrailblazer.com/podcast-guest-applicationDIGITAL TRAILBLAZER: https://digitaltrailblazer.com/

Nomad Krav Maga is more than your typical gym—it's a hub for empowerment, self-defense, and personal growth. Founded by Shane Langwell and based in Las Vegas, this modern training center fuses elements of traditional Krav Maga, MMA, and law enforcement tactics to provide real-world skills. Yelp reviewer Alfredo S. shares how the program helped his children gain confidence, while Shane explores how Nomad's tailored approach transforms lives. More about the episode Theme Music by Ali Schwartz and Meserole Sound

Nach den LA fires, von denen Laura recht unmittelbar betroffen war, sind Raabe&Kampf endlich zurück. Mel erzählt von ihrer letzten Reise, Laura berichtet, wieso sie gerade zur Prepperin wird - und einen Alte-Männer-Lifehack gibt's on top. Lax vox! Show Notes: ALONE: https://www.youtube.com/show/SCsjo9oAbmSJ-urstiIn24OQ?season=1&sbp=CgEx English Teacher: https://www.disneyplus.com/en-de/series/english-teacher/2zSTdyuLzCzx Max Richard Leßmann - Am Hafen brennt noch Licht - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJQLJS9Nkfs

How can breathing and meditation transform your life? Trea Drake, a breathing coach, meditation expert, and Krav Maga black belt, shares how mindfulness and breathwork can enhance well-being, athletic performance, and personal growth. Learn how to harness the power of breath to overcome challenges and thrive. ==============================================

DITS & GIGGLES KRAV MAGA RGJJ Jon Hegan Interview THE SARCASM MASTER OF MARTIAL ARTS The Book of Rio: An Insightful Conversation with the ever-charismatic Jon Hegan a name synonymous with martial arts and humour. Known for his sharp wit and insightful perspectives, Jon shares his unique journey through the martial arts landscape, from his early days in Tang Soo Do to his experiences with Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu under the legendary Royce Gracie. The conversation starts with banter about the martial arts community, as Jon reflects on his reluctance to join the podcast scene and the amusing dynamics of his relationships within the industry. As they delve deeper, Jon recounts his military background and the lessons learned from his time in the Marines, highlighting the importance of mental resilience and practical self-defence. Jon relates anecdotes about his training experiences, including memorable encounters with notable figures in martial arts, such as Helio Gracie, and his thoughts on the evolving nature of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. He candidly discusses the split between competitive grappling and self-defence, emphasising the need for practical applications in real-world scenarios. Not just entertaining; they also provide profound insights into the human experience. He shares his encounters with individuals who have inspired him, including his old friend Billy, a decorated veteran whose life experiences serve as a testament to the power of resilience and camaraderie. As the episode unfolds, John introduces the concept of "The Book of Rio," a humorous take on his journey through martial arts and the pretentious coffee culture in London. His ability to blend humour with serious topics makes for an entertaining and thought-provoking listen. "I just teach martial arts. That's it, really. Just try and do fun things and make the best of life." "You can hold that against them, but they're just kids from awful lives." "If you want to be successful in martial arts, the white gi is the way to go." "You can't imagine it, can you? And the way he kind of relayed it, it was just a very boring story for him." Join this channel to get access to perks: https://www.youtube.com/c/womatelevision/join Thanks for reading & watching, we hope you enjoyed it, please LIKE, SHARE and don't forget to SUBSCRIBE to W​orld of Martial Arts Television for more great content!! You can also FIND, FOLLOW and SUBSCRIBE to a huge World of Martial Arts Television here; Main site - https://www.worldofmartialarts.tv Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/www.woma.tv Twitter - https://twitter.com/Willwitter Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/worldofmartialartstelevision Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Eric addresses the devastating wildfires raging in Los Angeles in this special episode. He reflects on the unfolding crisis with compassion and concern, sharing his thoughts and offering a message of resilience. Join us as Eric speaks from the heart, acknowledging the widespread heartbreak for those who have lost their homes or had to evacuate while the situation remains far from resolved. Connection to LA Eric shares his early memories of Los Angeles, where he stayed with relatives as a 14-year-old, learning English by immersing himself in the culture.  Reflections on Resilience Inspired by a poignant quote shared by a Krav Maga instructor, Eric reflects on resilience and the importance of responding to challenges in life. The quote highlights how we should define ourselves by how we move forward rather than by what we have lost. Community Efforts Amid Disaster Various organizations and industries, including the Los Angeles tourism sector, are rallying to provide support in the wake of the fires. Eric commends the bravery and dedication of the first responders working tirelessly to combat the crisis. Lessons from Resilient Figures Drawing inspiration from various stories of resilience, Eric recounts the ability of Nelson Mandela to forgive and unite, Bethany Hamilton's return to professional surfing after a shark attack, and the perseverance of J.K. Rowling in publishing Harry Potter. Resilience the Entrepreneurial Spirit Eric highlights the resilience required in entrepreneurship, sharing the stories of Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, and Chris Gardner, who overcame significant setbacks to achieve remarkable success. The Pandemic Eric reflects on how the pandemic tested global resilience, forcing individuals and industries to adapt and persevere. He encourages small business owners to stay focused on their goals amid adversity. Closing with Resilience and Hope Eric closes by reciting the poem If, by Rudyard Kipling, which captures the essence of resilience. He expresses his solidarity with all those facing hardship in Los Angeles and encourages everyone to keep walking- the famous advice of Winston Churchill. Connect with Eric Rozenberg On LinkedIn Facebook Instagram Website  

The Hoes and Bitches Need A Champion.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. ‘Once you go Black, you don't go back; unless you are an Amerindian, Arabic, Asian, Black, Indian, Latina, or White girl, or guy who has tried Black, then found sexual fulfillment with a non-Black person and created a blissful relationship with them'Introduction:Right off the bat, be warned that I'm using the 'N' words, nigger, niggah, my niggah, plus homie, thug, coon, buck, spook, spade and whatever other crude racial slurs that come to mind. This story plays to both Black and White stereotypes.Lastly, this story is rather flippant with the entire concept of sexual assault. Those who have red my previous tales know this is not my attitude at all. For the sake of this genre I had to grapple with the concept of forcing a woman and 'making them love that cock'Prelude:My tale begins as the Winter Man Saga 1300 years ago, about the year 700 AD. One small clan of my Swedish ancestors lost a brutal feud with their neighbors. Their farms were burned, animals slaughtered and their women and children taken as slaves. Only three young brother-warriors survived, wounded but unconquered. The victors chased them high into the mountains when a terrible winter storm struck.The three brothers were trudging across a glacier between the mountain peaks in Whiteout conditions. The lead brother stepped into a crevasse and slid to the bottom of the glacier. Not giving up on their last kinsman, the other two slid down into the darkness after him. At the roots of that glacier they found an ice cavern formed by snow that fell 100,000 years ago.They melted the ice for water with their body heat and in doing so, unleashed a demoness (virus) that no man had ever known and survived. The three men grew very sick, but their fierce desire for vengeance kept them from succumbing. When they emerged from their icy tomb, they discovered that several of their pursuers had frozen to death in the blizzard and the rest had returned to their stolen homes and purloined lands, thinking the three brothers were dead.In the dark of the long northern night, they snuck upon the Great Hall of their enemies. When one of the brothers saw his 'former' wife doing a slave's work, he revealed himself to her. She rejoiced at the return of her love; physically, then brought the three table scraps to survive on. In the process, they learned that their sisters were also alive and the sexual playthings of their male nemeses.Due to the depth of winter, stealing back their womenfolk wasn't possible. They'd all freeze to death if they didn't starve first. To repay their enemy's wickedness, one of the brother's snapped and raped one of the chief's daughters. He was possessed with an unearthly desire and held her in a stable for hours. Only when he was utterly spent did he fall asleep.She ran to her father and returned with many warriors. So the first of the brothers was taken. He was tortured and abused. For three long nights he suffered at the hands of his captors yet refused to admit any of his other brothers were still alive. After that third night, the chief's daughter sneaked past the sleeping guards of the chained man, and raped him.For the next five nights, while her father, brothers and husband slept, she raped and raped and raped that brother. On the fifth night, a sister-in-law caught her at it. The daughter pled for the other to spare her; that the man's sexual prowess had ensnared her. She even challenged her kinswoman to sample the 'fruit' before turning her in. Five women later, the brother cracked and told the women how to find his brothers.The night after the Spring Equinox Celebrations, the women of their enemy rose up and slaughtered all their adult menfolk at the behest of the three brothers, on the conditions that their youngest sons be spared and that the men continue to share their favors with all the womenfolk (who were not their kin).The Sammi ClanThe isolated region of the land of the Swedes kept my ancestors out of contact with the wider world for some time. Many generations later, a son of that clan came to lead a band of (female) Finns. His Swedish name is forgotten. The Finns called him Sami (the Exalted One, no shit). He and this band took to fur trading along the Eastern tributaries of the Volga.In time, this group became identified with the Varangian. The Sons of Sami intermarried with the Slavs, becoming Slavicized and the Sons of Sami became Samsonovs. They followed the Rus expansion into the eastern tributaries of the Volga reaching Nizhny Novgorod in the 10th century.Then came the Mongol Conquest, the Tartar Yoke, Rus reunification and the Russian drive across Siberia. The Samsonovs remained tightly clannish and uncomfortable in urban settings. That wanderlust led them across the Bering Straits into Alaska where their genetic abnormality, the gift of that ancient demoness (virus), slumbered in isolation and monogamy.After a thousand years, the tales of mass orgies with strange women and protective female war bands faded into obscurity. Then my Mom, the brilliant, driven eccentric came along. Once she became enraptured with her own Samsonov lover, she had to know the secret of Samsonov men's sexual prowess.With her burning intellect and educational background, she eventually figured it out. She was also amoral enough to keep the knowledge to herself and vengeful enough to plan to use our curse as a weapon.My Living Family·         Father, Nikolay 'Nik' Samsonov;·         Mother, Gayle Fonteneau Samsonov;·         The Triplets, Alexander 'Alex', Mikhail and Vladimir 'Vlad'; that's me.Sitting at the dinner table, I protested; ‘Mom, You actually expect me to believe my Father, Brothers and I have the genetic capability to addict every woman we have sex with to our schlongs? That's nuts!'Mom retorted; ‘As opposed to thinking the color, length and girth of a phallus makes any woman lose all sense of loyalty, morality and decorum so she can become a man's sex sleeve, whore, bitch, property? Yes, I do.'The lives of my family took an unexpected detour in the spring of this year. My great-aunt Matilda (Mattie) died and willed her estate to Mom. I had never met the woman while she was alive yet in death she would have a profound effect on all our lives. Mom's family was a mess; a crowded dingy with a madhouse of odd characters.Lionel was my eldest maternal uncle. He was a Big, Bulging Brain working as a Chief Technical Advisor for NASA; a solitary crusader for all Mankind. What was he a technical advisor for? If anything left terra firma for more than fifteen seconds, he knew every detail about it. That included volcanic eruptions too. When we were younger, he invited us to various volcanoes (both above and beneath the waves). Great guy.Cassius, my second uncle, was serving time in Indonesia for piracy. Mom said he was meaner than every saltwater crocodile that ever lived. The two times I'd met him, he'd been a lean, happy laconic kind of guy with a love for military history. Mom said he was a charismatic rebel who was possessed by an obsession to defy authority in all its forms.Dido was child number three; my Mom's older sister, married to an Evangelical Televangelist in Nebraska under an assumed name, Paula Richmond. She also had a MD in Psychiatry and a Master's in Public Communications (under her real name), which she kept secret from the fundamentalist congregation. The few times we met; she was the perfect mother. Secretly, we three sons wished she'd been our mother instead of our real mother. Mom said Aunt Dido was a master manipulator and wielded a cruel whip;Then there was Mom's twin, Uncle Theo, who never lived in one place, traveled all around the globe and had every law enforcement agency in the civilized world looking for him. We always receiving presents from him during all the normal holidays; like Michaelmas, Holy Week, the start of Lent, Martinmas (his favorite) and our birthdays; which arrived at random, unrelated times of the year and never from the same location.He was the only one we'd never met, but the one Mom loved the most. Dad suspected he was a narco-trafficker while Mom insisted he was too paranoid to be considered reliable for that line of work. Mom told us he'd spent his formative years killing people for Uncle Sam until one day he simply walked away from Fort Bragg and became an independent contractor.The Defense Department sent some fine, brave men from Joint Special Operation Command, to talk to Mom every few months. They made sure not to trip over the CIA and Homeland Security types who occasionally staked out our house. We boys guessed they came around every time Uncle Theo assassinated people. Mom taught us how to appreciate them in an elaborate ritual she called 'April Fool's, which became an 'any day of the year' activity.My Mom's father (I never met the guy) was a leader of a cult in Nevada. He went down, guns blazing during a DEA raid. Apparently his interests included both harems and marijuana production.Mom's mom? She left my Mother outside a dive bar in San Diego and was never seen again. She had doctorates in Biology and Physics as well as the reputation for being a certifiable Space Cadet. Mom insisted her mom hadn't abandoned her, she'd simply forgotten where she left her youngest daughter who was 15 at the time.After five days, Mom decided to join an Alternative Rock band instead of looking for the lady yet again. Seven years later, she was declared legally dead; though all her offspring believed she was still alive; somewhere; doing something.Then you had Dad's family. We had some characters on that side of the family, just not like Mom's. For starters, Samsonovs were bred for law enforcement. We'd been arresting bad guys since the 1500's. We'd been doing that in Alaska since the time of the tsars. When the Alaskan Territory was sold to the United States; well, my ancestors simply started writing their reports in English instead of Russian.Over the centuries, we had bagged serial killers, smugglers, poachers, drug dealers, domestic abusers and thieves. Mostly they arrested drunks and wackos. My Great Grandfather Petrov was a law enforcement legend in Alaska. Alone, he ran down a pack of murderous robbers in the dead of winter before they made it to 'safety' in the Yukon Territory.In the spring, they found them frozen solid, him leading five men, he recorded in his journal he'd killed the other three while apprehending the gang, back in chains. That pretty much defined the nature of my Father's family, no too many stellar geniuses, but always relentless past all norms of endurance and reason. The moment females were allowed in law enforcement, the womenfolk joined the profession.My Aunt Iliana was in the Coast Guard, that made her the 'Black sheep' in this clan. Taking the law out to the high seas was about as wild as Dad's family got. Dad was pretty much the standard issue for my kin. Big, Dad was 6' 5' and 290 lbs., and about as imaginative as a glacier. Why Mom married Dad had long been a mystery to his sons.Don't get me wrong. I loved my Dad, but the man used a grand total of twenty different sentences his entire life. The fewer words he had to speak, the happier he was. He was a nice guy, never drinking too much and I'd never seen him lose his temper. He smiled, was unerringly polite and had always been helpful and playful with us kids from our earliest memories.Grandpa, my great-aunts and -uncles, my aunts, uncles and cousins by blood were the exact same way. I mean that quite literally. We all pretty much looked alike as well. Those who married, married eccentrics. In our regular family get-togethers that translated over to the blood kin in one room saying and doing nothing (we were already cluing into some sort of primitive telepathy) and being very happy that way, while the married relations were in another room packing on the lunacy.There was no middle ground; you were either a silent, brooding peak in the Samsonov mountain range, or the aurora borealis. That left me and my brothers, we were triplets, in a precarious position. We looked like smaller versions of our Dad (we were still growing) yet were totally at the mercy of our Mother most of our young lives. Recall what I said about eccentrics and lunatic behavior. Mom was the Queen of the Asylum.Mom quickly fell in love with 'things' and she loved doing those things with family. Since Dad worked long hours, family meant my brothers and me. We could make passable pottery by age seven. Krav Maga? Screw this 'driving to some dojo in Anchorage' crap. Mom signed us up for a two week course in Israel and online lessons for a year. Archery, check. Rewiring our house and refitting all the plumbing, check.The three of us were SCA squires at age 12. Pleading to Dad was pointless. He'd smile, mess up our hair and remind us these excursions made our Mother happy aka he wasn't going to help us have normal lives. We had some ex-Green Beret guys teach us outdoor survival skills in Wyoming. We could pull wool, make thread and knit a set of pants and sweaters.I and my brothers had to memorize 1200 medically useful plants before we could get our Christmas presents when we were 14. We free-climbed mountains, ran 10Kms, kayaked, were proficient seamen on a sailing ship and learned how to navigate by the Sun, Moon and stars. Around the age of 15, we figured out that Mom had a ton of money squirreled away. There was no way Dad, with his civil servant's salary, could afford all this crazy shit.By the age of 18 we had such a crazy patchwork set of skills, we weren't sure what we would end up doing with our lives; though tracking down Uncle Theo and living a life on the run was looking more attractive every month. What we didn't have were great social lives. We all had girlfriends at one time, or another, but they never lasted.Right before any of us were about to get serious with any girl in high school, my Mom dragged us off; to things like a five day course on Renaissance artwork in Milan; that's Italy. We had to learn to speak Italian in three days, plus during the flight over. Mom made it easy for us. We could only speak Italian the entire time. Doing that at school was 'fun'. Dad? He smiled and said nothing for three days.Welcome to the Fonteneau House, Kingston, ArkansasAnyway, Mom's Great-aunt Mattie kicked the bucket and left her vast fortune in northwestern Arkansas to my Mom. The old bird hated the rest of the nutjobs in the clan, but adored my Mom (and Theo). Upon receiving the news, my brothers and I began thinking the same thing: banjo lessons, redneck stunts and girls in Daisy Dukes. By 'fortune' we were thinking a ramshackle Ozark shack sitting on a mountain top.Nope. Great-aunt Mattie was loaded. In fact, Mom's whole family had tons of money. They'd made a killing, quite literally, during the White expansion westward using various despicable means. They'd even been cursed by an entire Indian Tribe for bilking them off their land. Mom's family blamed that malediction for their bizarre behavior.That Arkansas home was actually the summer residence for the Fonteneau clan from a hundred years ago. Along with the palatial residence came thousands upon thousands of acres spread over a quarter of the state (and some land in Texas, Missouri and Oklahoma too).Tara, or the Biltmore estate, it was not, but it certainly had pretensions. It was a wide and roomy, rambling Victorian structure. The house proper (there were two barns, a stable, storage sheds, two garages, one attached and the other stand-alone, semi-attached servant quarters and four outlying hunting lodges) abutted the Kingston town limits.The place was big enough to require Mom to employ six staff;Phineas Cobb the third, an angry, sullen old White guy and his carbon-copy son, Phineas IV, were our two Wardens. That meant they took care of the outlying property which included hunting down poachers, interlopers and moonshiners (the competition, no doubt) and seeing to the upkeep of the various lodges, roads, trails and bridges around the place. Phineas the third and Mom; well, he cried and hugged Mom when he saw her, so we didn't know what to think of him and his son.Bebe Marston worked the stables and the twelve horses therein. She was a college dropout, White and 21; a woman at one of life's crossroads. Great Aunt Mattie brought her on a few months before she passed on. Bebe was a bit shy and distant around the menfolk. Mom treated Bebe like her long lost daughter; they got along fine.Thomas Freeman was the groundskeeper. Thomas seemed nice enough, a polite and somewhat deferential older Black man. I liked him. Mom fired him the moment the lawyer finished reading Maggie's Will. She believed the man was a back-biter, liar and a thief.Kamika Perry was the cook. She was a largish, plump Black woman with a large family in town. She was a tyrant in the kitchen but friendly and out-going everywhere else. She knew Mom from before; before what, we didn't know. She was close to Mom's age and was the niece of the former cook. She and Mom were cordial yet a tad formal.Nefertiti Cooke was the upstairs maid. She was a whip-tin attractive Black woman in her late-20s and joined Thomas heading out the door. Mom discharged her due to Nefertiti's sour attitude and general unwillingness to adhere to a work schedule.Anita Turner was our downstairs maid and overall manager of the other servants. Like Kamika, she knew Mom from her previous stay at the house, though Anita was already part of the staff back then. They acted like old friends though they understood the mistress-servant dynamics of their relationship.Mom solved our labor shortage by bringing in Mexicans (Hondurans actually). The two families divided up the nine rooms in the detached servants' quarters with Bebe, since Anita and Kamika lived in town and the Cobb's had their own cottage somewhere on the property.Hector Martinez became our new groundskeeper. He had a wife, Maria. Mom enrolled her in some online college courses so she could get a teaching license. They were both pretty young.Consuela Castro was our new upstairs maid. She was a single mother with a son, Gustavo (10), and a daughter, Isabo (6); they went to the local elementary school in town. Both families were very nice to us and seemed happy with their current circumstance. Since this job was their first go at being domestic servants, Mom told us to be patient and respectful while they learned the ropes from Anita and Mr. Cobb (only Mom could call him Phineas without pissing him off).My brothers and I, our Father, the Martinez's and the Castro's couldn't have predicted the shit-storm Mom was creating between our house and the dominant Black populace of Kingston along the great racial divide. The Hondurans had spent half their lives learning to keep their heads low when faced with discrimination. We didn't, nor did we know that Mom was acting with deliberate malice of forethought at that time.To help appreciate our understanding of the situation, we triplets had known a grand total of four Black people well enough to call them by their Christian names our entire lives. One was a crazy, older guy who had been a sniper at some point in his military career. By crazy, I meant he'd go off on tangents in mid conversation, or just stopping entirely. We all liked the guy.He and Granddad Samsonov were real tight. They'd served together in Vietnam and we boys suspected something bad had happened to them both, something which scarred and bound them together closer than brothers. He and Alexander went hunting all the time back in Alaska. All I knew was Morris (Grandpa's comrade-in-arms) was treated like family.That meant if Morris got in trouble, fifteen to twenty Samsonov's would show up to bail him out. That's what family meant. The other two were a retired Air Force couple, Parker and Mariana Carrington plus their infant William, that had moved in next door (that's 40 yards away in Alaska) when I was fourteen. They were in their early thirties and wanted to start a family. The woman had been pregnant with her second child when we left.My Mom and another neighbor trundled her off to a clinic during her first birth. Dad had driven fifty miles in a blizzard to get her husband, so he could witness his firstborn come into the world. The man worked as a fishing boat mechanic and had gotten stuck at work when his wife went into early labor. It was the Alaskan way to look after one another.I never much thought about minorities. There were nearly as many Native Alaskans attending my schools as White folk. The Natives knew my family going back eight generations. I had a few cousins who were 'First Peoples'. Minority? Majority? We were Alaskans and that was that.Again, I didn't think much about there being a social and economic racial crevasse when I showed up in Kingston, Arkansas. I probably would have been totally blind-sided about it if Dad hadn't done his due diligence and went to the Kingston Police Station and Davis County Sheriff's Office to report his status as an Alaskan State Trooper and register his firearms.Since we didn't know what to look for, we missed the obvious signs of trouble. The Black police officer that Dad talked to was; impolite. He informed Dad there would be no 'courtesy' given despite Dad's professionalism, i.e. he wasn't permitted to carry any of his licensed firearms. The Sheriff's department was very different.We met the Sheriff and the man got Dad to be about as verbose as I'd ever seen him. The Sheriff verified Dad's story, gave him a 90 Day permit for his sidearm and told him to make no never mind over the Town cops' hostility. He certainly seemed pleased Dad had three big, strong, strapping boys and gave Dad an application to join his department.That night, Dad informed us all at the dining room table he was considering the Sheriff's job offer. Mom was secretly pleased (like her sister, she IS an evil mastermind and master manipulator). Anita, Bebe and Kamika were eating with us as well, Mom insisted all the help do so (the Hondurans weren't with us yet), and I detected a hint of worry in their posture. I would have thought 'us' staying in the house, thus their continued employment, would be seen as a good thing.Welcome To Kingston.That night, over some late night cocoa, Mom gave the family the regional 4-1-1. Kingston was 75% Black, 20% White and 5% other. The rest of Davis County was 95% White and 5% Black and other. In Kingston, the Blacks ruled the town. All elected officials and police officers were Black. The Sheriff's department had a few Black officers, but was mostly White.It would have been all White except a combined lawsuit by Southern Poverty Law Center and N Double A CP, forced the County to 'integrate'. I asked the logical question: why hadn't the town been forced to integrate too? Mom told me that wasn't how things worked in the Lower 48. Here, Blacks couldn't discriminate; they could only be discriminated against.The Federal government said so. I was sensing shades of Uncle Theo in Mom's blanket assessment of things. My brothers and I were wrong. Mom was right. We were entering White Man's Hell aka Big Black Cock Country. Of course, Mom wasn't sadistic, or masochistic. She had a tidbit of knowledge no one this side of British Columbia was aware of, a Secret Weapon.Dad applied for and got the job of Senior Deputy, which riled some of the other (read: Black) deputies, but Dad's extensive experience and easy-going manner eased his entry into the unit. Mom remained Mom, an unconventional, beautiful, free-spirited kook. She made no effort to make friends. I was the boldest of the triplets so I asked her why.‘Do you know how your Father's family would rather hack of a hand than go back on their word?' she gazed at me intently. I nodded. When she said 'Father' instead of 'Dad', this was our cue that this was a Major Life lesson we had best memorize. ‘These people aren't like that. They will take that which is not theirs, break trusts, sully families and lie to your face.'‘These women are all bold-faced whores, cock-hungry tramps and sluts who get abortions because they don't know what color the daddy is. The males are either the kind of men who would sleep with those kinds of women, or gutless wonders who won't fight for their rights as boyfriends, brothers, fathers, fiancés and spouses.'‘This is a colored thing, right?' I guessed. I wanted to be wrong.‘Got it in one,' Mom patted me on the shoulder. ‘Most White men in town are spineless wimps, Black men jump on whatever cunt they can crack open and women of either color put up with it, even beg for it. I know because I was once like them.'‘You and Dad?' I worried. Mom gave a deep, hearty laugh.‘That is not going to be a problem, I promise you. The only man for me is your Father,' she smiled. ‘I had plenty of lovers before your Dad. Since one month after I met him, I've never been with another man, or woman, or even wanted one.' More than I wanted to know, but good news none the less.While we were moving in the small amount of belongs that had followed us from Arkansas, two Kingston cops stopped by to see what we were doing. I had spent my entire life around law enforcement who knew about me and my clan. They were always friends and people we could trust. Kingston PD was a rude awakening we weren't in Alaska anymore.They were brusque and intimidating. Their real purpose was to remind my family the house was part of the town, even if the back acreage was not. Mom snorted at their pale deception. She asked to see their warrant. They asked if there was some reason they might need one. Mom politely asked them to leave as they were trespassing.They basked in their defiance. What could Mom really do? If she went all redneck and produced a gun, they'd lock her up, pointing weapons at law enforcement was stupid. Sadly for the cops, familiarity breeds understanding too. Mom gave us the April Fools' signal. Alexander, our oldest triplet, moved the cargo truck so it blocked the officers' view of their patrol car.While Mom looked peeved, feeding the Black cops sense of empowerment, my youngest triplet Mikhail and I (Vladimir) stripped their car of all easily removable parts; the dash-cam went first. They wanted to loiter around on our property? We let them behave stupidly. We dumped the parts and our work gloves in a packing box and carried it right past them.We walked straight out the back too. There was a burning barrel which we made prompt use of, for the oily gloves and box. We had spares. Mikhail tended the fire as I picked up a broken cinder block, a heavy-duty trash bag and walked a few hundred yards to the bog near the creek that ran through our property, county land. The bag and contents went into the bog.I used a branch to make sure it sunk deep before returning. Cleaning off my boots with the outdoor hose completed my destruction of evidence. Ten minutes later a member of the Arkansas Highway Patrol stopped by to see what the problem was. Mom had called them before the sabotage had even begun. She didn't know these two personally, but she knew from earlier visits to her aunt that these two were going to give us 'attitude'.Calling the Sheriff's Department would only cause a standoff where the police had the upper hand, the whole town jurisdiction thing. By the time the HP arrived, Alexander had left with the truck so when the Highway Patrolman began expressing concern for my Mom's civil rights, the two buck butt-bandits made to leave. That didn't work out well for them.First came the circus of the discovery they were missing key parts of their vehicle and the lack of an explanation of how that had happened. Mom wouldn't let the town cops search her place. She happily let the Highway Patrolman (who happened to be Black too) look around. We'd used the hose and the burning barrel because moving was nasty, sweaty work, especially in the Arkansas summer heat.The two policemen blamed us, the triplets. Mom asked them when, in the cops thirty minute trespass, had her 'little angels' stolen the parts, why we would do such a criminal thing, and if they knew where the parts might be. The Highway patrolman was kind of curious about the length of their stay as well.The cops lied, Mom went inside and brought back the camcorder that had taken in the entire event. They were caught in the lie and all they could claim was the cargo truck had been strategically placed to block a visual to their car; as we unloaded our truck. Mom even got the Highway Patrolman to co-sign her complaint to the Arkansas State Police Criminal Investigations department.Mom knew this one wouldn't go anywhere. She had lived with cops long enough to know the value of building up a case file. Alexander was off returning the truck in another county, so he was safe. Mom called him and Dad so they could hook up before Alexander came home. She counted on the cops to be petty and they were.Alexander was on a motorcycle. When he got pulled, the city cops pulled in front of him. Dad stopped as well. Despite their continuing pressure to make Dad leave, they had no legal grounds to do so, he was Alexander's father, who would be responsible for Alex's ride if they took him into custody. Being an off-duty sheriff's deputy wasn't good enough, yet Dad's point was telling.Cops always pull up behind a suspect, not ahead of them unless they want to ignore the dash-cam evidence. Dad had pulled up in his Sheriff's vehicle behind Alexander and his dash-cam was recording everything. They let Alexander off with a Warning Ticket and departed giving father and son dirty looks. School was five days off. We checked out the property for two days. The third morning my brothers and I, on motorcycles, decided to explore Kingston.Having never before confronted such blatant racism, we weren't afraid, we were furious. We hadn't done anything to anybody. We were from Alaskan-Russian stock and had never owned a person ever, as far as we knew. We certainly weren't invested in this whole 'Black slavery, White guilt' issue. Those who gave us attitude about 'White privilege' didn't care for our counter, that saying all White people were alike was equally racist.As Mom had warned us, Black people couldn't be racist; just ask them. Mind you, many of the town's Black residents were friendly and helpful. They just weren't friendly enough to defend us from the 'haters'. At the end of the first day, Mikhail nearly got in a fight with five members of the Black post-high school crowd who were fucking with, and sitting on, our bikes.Where we came from, that was rude in the extreme. When he appeared to be alone, they were boisterous enough. When Alexander and I stepped out of the pool hall (we'd been made unwelcome there), they backed off from their threatening rhetoric. They still wouldn't leave, or get off our bikes. The three versus five odds didn't deter us.It was the lack of faith in the local justice system that encouraged Alexander and me to hold Mikhail back. We had an answer to their intransience, crowding. It takes a great deal of cool to have three guys, all over six feet tall and 220 lbs. lean in on you while you are sitting down. When the current bastard was dealt with, we moved to the next. Before the group could figure a way to thwart us, we had retrieved our bikes and were headed home.The next day, we took Mom's 2012 Shelby V8 Mustang out for a drive. We found the three spots in town the 'White folk' hung out in. We had the Country Western Redneck posse' section of town, pseudo-riche Southerner clique downtown region, and the movie theater (theoretically neutral turf). The saner White middle class had departed for safer pastures, they had established their own municipality a few miles outside of town).The rednecks welcomed our physicality. We were attempting to fit in until they began talking about all those damn 'niggahs'. Alexander broke down after a bit and asked what a 'niggah' was. It was a 'coon'. Since that was of no help, we asked what a 'coon' was.The regulars found our naiveté amusing. It took us three minutes of running a verbal obstacle course to piece together that 'niggahs' was their inbred pronunciation of 'niggers' (a term we knew from TV and movies) which was idiot slang for a Black person. We were 'crackahs', idiot slang for crackers aka White people. Hispanics were 'beeners'; yeah, right.We also learned that the favorite activities for teenage rednecks was knocking over mailboxes as they sped down the road, beating up White girls who sucked Black cock and beating up 'niggahs' who touched White girls. My analysis was that these yahoos were long on talk and short on action.I wasn't a fashion icon yet I could tell these boys could use a bath and some fresh clothes. The girls who hung around this crowd looked about as loyal as salmon during spawning season. At 18, we were hardly experienced, but we weren't desperate virgins either. Girls we had just been introduced to, flirting with us and suggesting later sexual rendezvouses were a definite turn-off because God knows who else they'd been doing it with.That led us to the riche clique. Among the guys; half were snobbish closet gays who weren't our thing. The other half were rich straight guys pretending to be rednecks. Rich White girls pretended to be friends with the rich Black girls. They were used to being pampered by their rich White boyfriends while eyeing every Black stud that crossed their path.Until they realized Samsonov = Fonteneau, they were snide. After that, they tried to convince us we were all (distantly) related. Bloodlines and riches were not the basis for what we called friends so we politely postponed any celebrations.The Cineplex was a hunting ground for all ages. White women I was pretty sure were married to someone else engaged in sexual liaisons with Blacks; be they teens, business types, or lay-abouts. We had no idea if these were random hook-ups, or affairs and we didn't really care.Having wasted nine hours of our lives we definitely wanted back, we ended up rendezvousing with Mom and Dad at his boss's, the Sheriff's, place. Whatever else he was, Robert ‘Big Bob' Carson wasn't an underpaid county employee. His home was nice, expansive, relatively new and sitting on four wonderful acres of land, half woodland/half professionally maintained lawn and gardens. He had an expansive deck with a built-in grill, hot tub and pool out back.My brothers and I had been under the impression this would be an office outing. It ended up being our two families; the five of us, Big Bob and his daughter, Brandy Crystal Carson. There was no Mamma Carson in sight and a lack of family pictures was noticed by us and our Mom. Dad and Bob (it was tough to call him Big Bob when Dad was bigger than he was) were deep in conversation at the outdoor grill when I arrived.‘Vlad, come out here,' my Dad called to me in his easy going manner.‘Brandy!' Bob shouted. I promptly showed up. Dad wasn't a passionate disciplinarian. I didn't hustle out of fear. I hurried out because I wanted my Dad to look good in front of the Sheriff. ‘Hello Vlad,' Big Bob greeted me. ‘You are a strapping lad, big like your Daddy.'That was a bit odd. I had only heard one person call my Father 'Daddy'. That was my Mom when she was feeling frisky. Mom walked around the house naked when the mood struck her (even when we had guests over) and had few compunctions about hopping into Dad's lap when she wanted attention. That was a common enough occurrence that 'us' boys had learned to sneak out of the room quietly before we were ten.Only in the last two years had we figured out part of Mom's bizarre sexual behavior was caused by Dad being utterly clueless where women were concerned. He could spot a shoplifter at a glance, or an expired car registration at fifty feet on a moonless night. I had seen a car saleswoman hit on Dad when he was getting his newest pick-up. She did everything but flash her tits and do a striptease; it all went right over Dad's head.‘Brandy! Get your ass down here!' Bob bellowed. She must have been most of the way to us because she materialized five seconds later.‘Yes Daddy,' Brandy sounded bored. I was too busy gawking to see Big Bob's reaction to his daughter's insolence.Brandy was beyond gorgeous (according to my personal standards). She had pale-blonde hair in a ponytail that clearly went past her shoulder blades. Her caramel skin was the beneficiary of countless sessions with a tanning booth. Her eyes were the darkest blue I'd ever seen. Breasts, Jesus, they were large and firm. I could tell that because she had on a pink crop-top and no bra. I could almost see the bottoms of each orb.Her stomach was muscled with a thin layer of fatty tissue to give her real womanly curves and she had curves to spare. Her waist was narrow and her hips were wide, complimenting her breast size. She had on super-short, cut-off, 'faded-almost-to-White' denim jeans that accentuated her dark skin. Her ass was to die for. A bit big but well-muscled, each a perfect hemisphere.Her thighs and calves were the product of consistent exercise. Hot, hot, hot. She had on white tennis socks (no shoes) that finished off her delectable image.‘Brandy, this is Vladimir, Senior Deputy Samsonov's son. He's going to be your boyfriend this year,' Bob announced. I had a feeling this wasn't open for debate, in his mind.‘What!' Brandy squawked.‘What?' I looked to my Dad.‘What the fuck?' Brandy turned and glared at me. I would have enjoyed her breasts bouncing more if I hadn't been eyeballing my patriarch.‘Dad?' I kept my voice calm. Brandy was fantastic looking, but I didn't want anyone dictating my social life, period. I was eighteen. Besides, Brandy was turning out to have a far less appealing personality, Pretty Princess syndrome.‘Brandy, Vladimir's a nice boy. His father is 'good people',' Bob laid out his case.How did he know I was a good boy? He was taking a lot on faith.‘I don't want to date this loser,' Brandy shouted. 'Loser'? She didn't knew me either.‘If you don't keep Vlad as your boyfriend, then no cheerleading and no dance team,' Bob glared at his daughter. This clash of wills made no sense to me.‘No way!' Brandy glanced back at her Dad, protested loudly and stomped her foot on the wooden deck.‘Well then, you need to be home at 3:20 pm every school day,' Bob threatened. ‘And I'll make sure to check up on you.' Before I could wonder about Big Bob's abuse of power, I noted the state of the art security system, cyber-nanny.Brandy turned on me in a furor. Her face was screwed up with anger, her fists were clenched and I was working double-time to not ogle the cleave she enhanced by leaning forward. Man, she hated me for reasons I couldn't fathom. I disgusted her which I didn't get either. Plenty of non-relative women had called me good-looking and handsome.I had a healthy, well-defined physique, nice thick, blonde hair and the common sense to keep my body and clothes clean and casual. My only downside I'd ever been told about was my size, I was tall for my age and 'cut'. Brandy was 5' 4'. I was 6' 2'. I had stormy grey eyes, light blonde hair the color of wheat and skin spared the ravages of acne.‘Brandy, I am as uncomfortable and surprised about this as you are,' I tried to placate her. ‘Do you want to talk about it?' She forced herself to appear calm.‘Fine Victor,' she grumbled. Worse than getting my name wrong was the look of viciousness that glimmered in her eyes. ‘We'll make Daddy happy and be a cookie-cutter couple.'‘Dad?' I tried to exit this fiasco with some decorum.‘You'll do fine son,' he responded. That wasn't helpful.‘I'll see you Monday morning, Victor,' Brandy snidely mocked me before leaving. I turned to follow her thunderous retreat.Running after her would have felt pathetic so my sedate pursuit meant she put some distance between us. She ran right into Mom, who grabbed her arm.‘I'm warning you right now,' Mom hissed. ‘Don't have sex with any of my sons.'‘That won't be a problem,' Brandy snorted. I was filth in her mind

The Light Gate welcomes guests: Preston Dennett & Dolly Safran, Q&A Date: December 21, 2024. Time: 5-7pm pacific / 8-10pm eastern Episode: 087 Discussion: UFOs, extraterrestrials, paranormal, contact, drones…all questions welcome! It's open mic night! Tonight, The Light Gate, features a Q&A episode with your hosts, Preston Dennett and Dolly Safran, and you, the audience! Ask us anything! UFOs, ghosts, OBEs, the paranormal…and yes, drones! Time to have some fun. Preston Dennett began investigating UFOs and the paranormal in 1986 when he discovered that his family, friends, and co-workers were having dramatic unexplained encounters. Since then, he has interviewed hundreds of witnesses and investigated a wide variety of paranormal phenomena. He is a field investigator for the Mutual UFO Network (MUFON), a ghost hunter, a paranormal researcher, and the author of 30 books and more than 100 articles on UFOs and the paranormal. Several of his books have been Amazon UFO bestsellers. His articles have appeared in numerous magazines including Fate, Atlantis Rising, MUFON UFO Journal, Nexus, Paranormal Magazine, UFO Magazine, Phenomena Magazine, Mysteries Magazine, Ufologist and others. His writing has been translated into several different languages including German, French, Portuguese, Russian, and Icelandic. He has appeared on numerous radio and television programs, including Midnight in the Desert with Art Bell, Coast-to-Coast and also the History Channel's Deep Sea UFOs and UFO Hunters and Ancient Aliens. His research has been presented in the LA Times, the LA Daily News, the Dallas Morning News and other newspapers. He has taught classes on various paranormal subjects and lectures across the United States. Dolly Safran has worked as a limo driver, assistant manager at Wendy's, a zookeeper, a bus driver, a security guard, a lifeguard a nurse, and more, including as a civilian worker for the U.S. Department of the Treasury, and also in the Army as an employee for the U.S. Department of Defense. She is trained in martial arts, including Karate and Krav Maga. Her UFO contacts began when she was only months old, and are still ongoing today. At age fourteen, she had an onboard experience which changed her life. She overcame the fear, confusion and missing time surrounding her experiences, and began to work with the ETs in their mission to help awaken all humanity. She is a fully conscious UFO contactee and the subject of the full-length book, “Symmetry: A True UFO Adventure.” LINKS www.prestondennett.weebly.com https://www.youtube.com/@prestondennett577/featured https://www.facebook.com/preston.dennett/ https://www.youtube.com/@dollysafran9107

Krav maga je více než jen technika sebeobrany. Je to komplexní systém zaměřený na efektivní reakce v různých krizových situacích, od ozbrojených útoků po boj s více útočníky. Bojový systém je určen pro každého, bez ohledu na věk či kondici.

Send us a textToday's guest discusses the profound connections formed through Jiu-Jitsu, the misconception that it is for everyone, individuality in jiu-jitsu, and more. Here is The RŌL Radio with Krav Maga black belt, a Chris Haueter black belt, and co-owner / head instructor at Rough Hands Jiu-Jitsu in Louisville KY, Jesse Walker.www.rolacademy.tv 30% discount with ROLRADIO code at checkout. Over 1300 videos for your Jiu-Jitsu journey.FREE Access to ROL TV - https://rolacademy.tv/yt/269-the-rol-radiohttp://www.therolradio.comhttps://www.instagram.com/therolradiohttps://www.facebook.com/therolradio/https://roughhandsbjj.com/https://www.instagram.com/roughhandsbjj/https://roughhandsbjj.com/spring-camp?Episode Highlights:2:50 Connections and Bonds6:16 Trust the Tap9:23 The Learning Enviornment vs The Competition   Enviornment20:14 Overcomplicating Jiu-Jitsu26:50 Jiu-Jitsu Is Not for Everybody31:13 Transitioning to Jiu-Jitsu44:16 The Job of an Instructor1:02:58 Goals vs Direction1:12:37 Stephen Whittier's QuestionSupport the show

In this inspiring episode of It Happened To Me, hosts Cathy and Beth sit down with Alex Brito, a remarkable advocate in the rare disease community and one of the first 100 individuals diagnosed with neuromyelitis optica spectrum disorder (NMOSD). NMOSD is a rare neurological disease that affects an estimated 6,000 Americans, causing severe and unpredictable relapses that can lead to vision loss, chronic pain, and paralysis. Alex shares her journey, from the challenges of misdiagnosis and temporary paralysis to her empowering outlook on life with NMOSD—she affectionately refers to the condition as “her bestie.” Alex's dedication to advocating for individuals with disabilities is evident in her work teaching adaptive technology to those with vision loss. Her incredible resilience is matched by her active lifestyle, which includes powerlifting and earning the distinction of being the first blind woman to achieve a yellow belt in Krav Maga. Listeners will also learn about Alexion's short film, Rare Connections in NMOSD (Accessible Version), which highlights Alex's story and helps raise awareness about this rare disease. Key Takeaways: What is NMOSD, its symptoms, and the challenges in diagnosing this rare condition. Alex's personal journey with NMOSD, including vision loss, paralysis, and finding strength in adversity. The importance of adaptive technology and how Alex empowers individuals with vision loss. Alex's inspiring accomplishments as a powerlifter and martial artist. Insights into Alexion's short film Rare Connections in NMOSD and its impact on awareness and advocacy. Resources Mentioned in This Episode: Watch Alexion's short film, Rare Connections in NMOSD here Alex mentioned using JAWS, a screen reading program for those with vision difficulties Support organizations for NMOSD that Alex recommends in the episode are The Guthy-Jackson Foundation and The Sumaria Foundation Learn more about NMOSD through the organization NMOSD Won't Stop Me  Stay tuned for the next new episode of “It Happened To Me”! In the meantime, you can listen to our previous episodes on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, streaming on the website, or any other podcast player by searching, “It Happened To Me”.    “It Happened To Me” is created and hosted by Cathy Gildenhorn and Beth Glassman. DNA Today's Kira Dineen is our executive producer and marketing lead. Amanda Andreoli is our associate producer. Ashlyn Enokian is our graphic designer.   See what else we are up to on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, YouTube and our website, ItHappenedToMePod.com. Questions/inquiries can be sent to ItHappenedToMePod@gmail.com. 

Send us a textWhat's up love doves! This chat features friend of the show and inimitable renaissance woman Munira Mona Morsy. Mona is a writer, poet, artist, and fight coach. We chat about a variety of topics including: artistic expression as an essential means of cultivating a healthy and dynamic culture, the intersection between comics and poetry, honoring migrants and migrant rights, and we even shift gears and discuss some nuts and bolts about self-defense and self-defense mindset, emphasizing the importance of ladies knowing how to physically defend themselves. Learning martial arts techniques not only builds confidence and neuroplasticity, it also equals things out if you consider yourself petite and are intimidated by larger humans. Remember ladies: dudes have one major vulnerability between their legs, it's really just waiting there to be kicked if need be. We even dip a toe into post-election stuff, and I feel it's always healthy and important to talk about difficult and polarizing issues in a respectful and productive way. We need to listen to one another more, in my opinion. Thanks for sharing head space!Check out Mona's innovative poetry comics on Instagram @thelighthousemonocle. You can order zines directly from her. They are awesome.You can also find Mona's work on Substack @: Musings of a Young Contrarian.Finally, her memoir, titled The Sky That Stole a Thousand Midnights, will be coming out next year, so stay tuned for that as well!One love, lr kerkawwwTRACKLISTSunnyBeats - Mexican Lofi Beats (Mix - YouTube)Girls Love Soul - Ep 035 feat. Big Beenz (Mix- Soundcloud)Support the showSupport My Sponsor:Magic Mind Adaptogenic & Nootropic Elixir 20% off at Checkout! Support Link here | Use Code: NOETICS20Tip me in Solana (crypto):Address: 9XPHpqH7GawTGtPgZAzfXFU6oPWTpSua1QXwRYAWVh9y If you dig the pod, check out the adjacent video & livestream show Barbarian Yak Fest on Rokfin: https://rokfin.com/BarbarianYakFestFind me on IG: barbarian_noetics Become a Patron: patreon.com/noetics (unlock bonus content plus win a Dream Interpretation)Direct Donate on PayPal @barbarian.noetics@proton.me Cash App@ $BarbarianRavenbuymeacoffee.com/noetics.Spread the word and tell a friend. Remember to set the BNP on Auto Download after you subscribe. I appreciate you all. Section 107 of the Copyright Act of 1976 allows for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, education and research....

David Hutchinson is a martial artist, coach, and fascinating guy! He has studied Krav Maga, Wing Chun, Muay Thai, Bjj, and other forms of fighting and now focuses on integrating those arts in to self protection that is pressure tested and evidence based.  He is also not your usual instructor when it comes to fighting. He has a fascinating background and it's one you wouldn't expect from someone who understands violence! You can find him on IG at integrated_fighting_arts. You can find the The Distinguished Savage caps here https://www.etsy.com/listing/1798300540/richardson-112-trucker-hatloden-on?ref=share_v4_lx

Richard Douieb est un professeur de Krav maga, fondateur et ancien président de la Fédération européenne de Krav-maga, ex-militaire de l'État d'Israël et formateur dans divers groupes militaires et unités d'élite.https://www.krav-maga.nethttps://ecole-krav-maga-creteil.comhttps://www.facebook.com/p/Richard-Douieb-100063286444839*Chapitres*0:00 Introduction au Krav Maga15:46 Réactions face à l'actualité27:07 Différences avec le penchak silat28:47 Principes fondamentaux du Krav Maga42:24 Pratique réelle du Krav Maga55:33 Anticipation et réaction en situation de danger1:06:50 Bluff ou Réalité ?1:13:14 L'Injuste Justicier1:24:28 La Bagarre et l'Autorité1:33:01 Krav Maga : Mythe ou Réalité ?1:37:48 Anecdotes de Mission1:41:21 L'Évolution de l'Armée1:51:50 Réflexions sur la Guerre1:59:20 Intégration au Karaté*Épisodes Recommandés*#183 Franck Ropers - Self-defense et série unique : fin du débat ?#208 Cyrille Diabaté - L'arnaque des combats clandestins ?#228 Karim Clémenceau - Self-defense et Mytho-Jitsu : fin du débat ?#252 Charles Joussot - La rue, c'est le vice*Biomécanique Liens et Site*Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/biomecaniquepodcast/Facebook : https://www.facebook.com/BiomecaniquePodcast/Tiktok : https://www.tiktok.com/@biomecaniquepodcastDiscord : https://discord.gg/EAe8aKRJ9NSite : https://biomecaniquepodcast.comNewsletter : https://biomecaniquepodcast.com/Lettre Hébergé par Acast. Visitez acast.com/privacy pour plus d'informations.

Becoming something of value has its downside. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “Live fast, die young and leave a; No. Enjoy life and die when it is your time. Your corpse will the least of your concerns if there really is an Afterlife.”  (Monday) For some God-unknown reason I was showing up to work at 6 a.m. Monday. I swear, one of these days I'm going to show up to work naked. If asked why, I'll claim that it wasn't in my brilliantly scripted orders. I would then beg forgiveness for 'assuming' I was allowed to breath, or even be conscious. We'd all laugh. Nothing would change. They were never going to give me advance warning of what my latest errand entailed. I don't think it was in them. "You've made to Week Three," Buffy sneered as we entered the garage beneath Havenstone's skyscraper. "I'm flabbergasted." "So am I; flabbergasted that is," I nodded sagely. "I had no idea you knew what flabbergasted meant." Punch. Definitely back to the old Buffy. "You need a haircut," she commented. My phone beeped. I had data packet. I had received them before; just not from this place. I opened it up as we exited the car and made for elevators. "Holy Bat-shit Bat-Bunny!" I gasped. "Hayden's written me a letter." "Really?" Buffy was momentarily non-psychotic. I showed her my screen. Hayden had made an official declaration; something that would be in the records of the Amazons from now until forever. Any and all males of Havenstone; specifically one Cáel Nyilas; were to forthwith and immediately stop spiritually assassinating any and all Amazons and Amazon recruits. Furthermore, I was admonished for murdering Fabiola Dobrani and, under penalty of an unmentioned punishment, I was to publicly rejoice at her resurrection. Life was relentless. Buffy's phone rang. She got the same message I did; as did every freaking Amazon in the building. I didn't think the guys would be getting this memo. "I wonder how the Chicklettes are going to take this," I mused. The doors opened before Buffy could formulate her comeback. Relentless may have not been a strong enough word. Waiting for us in two distinct groups were Constanza with two SD Playboy Bunnies; opposite them was Oneida. Oneida looked; enamored. This wasn't curiosity about what my meat would feel like as it made her weep tears of rapture. This was a weekend binge of watching some of the best received, twenty-something, romantic movies of the past ten years. It was hard for me to decide which group was more divorced from reality; the Amazon man-haters, or the 'Hollywood was real' babe. "I'm going to get a bite to eat," Buffy announced. Entering the garage had completed her bodyguard duties. Oneida had the higher prestige so she came first. "Hi Cáel Nyilas," she stepped up and greeted me. She extended her hand; for me to shake. Amazons clasped forearm to forearm. I greeted her Amazon-style. "It is good to see you again, Oneida of House Arinniti," I replied. She looked upset. "You know who I am," she sighed with disappointment. "Please believe me," I stroked the side of her left cheek to the top of her ear, "had I known Friday, I would have finished up by impaled myself on your spear and cleared up a whole manner of things. Why does it matter to you that I know who you are?" "I; I didn't want to be treated as anyone special," she gazed up at me with innocent eyes. "That's not going to be a problem," I chuckled. "To me, you are nothing but another psycho-bitch that's trying to kill me. You are a black-hearted, soulless creation of Hell and I hate your guts, Oneida." "But you saved my life?" she whimpered. She was a bit more unbalanced than the normal babe employed here. Yay me. "And? See, this is why my description of you and your sisters is so accurate," I smiled while I explained. "I would try to save almost anyone because it is the right thing to do. The only reason saving you was a mistake was that it caused me to fall further into Hayden's favor. Now she's going to expect that shit on a regular basis solely because you are of House Arinniti." "Ah; I like you," Oneida pleaded. "Why?" I asked. "You risked so much for Aya. You made her laugh and smile. You; you acted as if you cared for her; as if you were her own mother," Oneida told me. "Was that a deception too?" "Hmmm; not what I expected," I mused. "Fine, realizing that I was with Aya for her sake and hers alone raises you up a step in my estimations. I'm not being deceptive about how I feel about this place, Oneida. Here, let me prove it." I looked to Constanza. "Constanza, do I hate your guts?" She glared at me. "Constanza, if I thought I could get away with it, would I shove a fragmentation grenade up your ass and pull the pin?" No response. "See," I grinned to the gawking Oneida, "I'm not being deceptive about how I feel about this place. My opinion matters not at all to these women yet they know I'll never act on my hate because of my own, perverse Code of Conduct. I'm not going to run away and I'm not going to stop being me. I'm certainly not going to fall in love with anyone here." "Oh," she muttered. "I have to go to work now. Have a nice day," I turned to Constanza. "Are you my work buddy today?" "Male, come with us," Constanza snapped. Off the four of us walked; right back to the elevator. Down we went, past any level my ID card could have accessed. Devo's Working in the Coal Mine sprang to mind, so I hummed it. I was feeling completely at ease. Constanza stood behind me, while the other two stood at either side, but half a step back so they were right at the edge of my peripheral vision. I felt like a team player; an interregnal part of my imminent demise. The group marched past the Armory. I waved to my old friend, the Kindergarten Cop. She glowered. Amazons were not martinets. They were clean-cut and proud, but vigilance meant much more than a scuff mark on a boot, or a gaze locked on the farther wall. Our trip deposited in yet another room I could never access. I was the first one through the door. I almost froze. For starters, the room was around 15 meters wide and 6 meters deep. In the center of the room was an 8x2meter table. On the table where a wide variety of firearms and ammunition. Automatic pistols, revolvers, shotguns and submachine guns plus multiple clips, or speed-loaders for them all. They hadn't brought me here to murder me with Death by multiple calibers. If they wanted me dead, they would have blown my brains out already then put a gun in my hand in a hopeless attempt to fool Katrina. The number of guns didn't even impress me. The far wall was transparent and through it I could see multiple ladies in sports bras and boy shorts shooting away on a firing range. Holy Mother of God! I was here for weapons training. What the Hell had gone wrong? As I moved deeper into the room, one SD Femi-Nazi moved down the left wall, the other moved down the right and Constanza remained two steps behind me. "Please clarify my task for this time period, Constanza?" I requested. The look she shot me was lethal. "The weapons present are ones you have stated you have a familiarity with as well as others in common usage here at Havenstone. All the rounds are hollow points, or slugs. Chose which weapons you wish to qualify in, load your clips and inform me when you have completed this part of the assignment." "Thank you," I nodded then set to the task at hand. Constanza clearly had expected me to be a smart ass. I had used learning about guns to get tail. That didn't mean I disrespected the weapons. I picked up several side arms, testing their weight and grips before deciding on the 40 caliber Smith  and  Wesson Glock 22. I felt the ammo, making sure I wouldn't be running around with blanks this time. This shit was real. Elsa had claimed she'd rather be skinned alive than let any man bear weapons in her Havenstone. Maybe I shouldn't have felt her up, or given that massage to that med tech, or stripped in the elevator. I was a really, truly naughty boy. Most women spank naughty boys. My tormentors tend to fuck with my mind because, ya know, it's harder to defend against that crap. Also, there is not a hand lotion made that will soothe the ravaged psyche. I began loading the clips. "Is that the only one you are taking?" Constanza eventually broke down and asked. "I don't want to waste your time," I replied. "This is my favorite pistol. I've shot 22, 38, 9 mm, and 45, but I'm most comfortable with this one. Maybe later I can work with the shotguns. I haven't a clue how to handle anything else." I could see it in her eyes; 'damn him; he's making sense.' There was one final way I could fuck up. I didn't. I knew firearms etiquette. Don't load your gun before taking your station at the range. Sure, all the crazy chicks could do it, but that was part of their jobs; killing things. I was a novice. I picked out some ear protection and an adequate hip holster in case Constanza wanted me to fire from the draw. I was clearly not making her day by not screwing up. "This way," she barked. She accessed the door leading to the range and out we stepped. All around, the firing slowly died. For each of the women, there was a second of disbelief followed by several more seconds of outrage. Lust was where the emotional landslide ended. I was 'That' guy. I wasn't something they could codify. I made meaningful, defiant eye contact, I dressed to impress, and I was known to be courageous. Having Hayden decide that she wanted to mate with me didn't hurt my appeal one bit. I could already tell they were figuring out where to shoot me so that I could still have sex an hour later. I was a man in Havenstone with a gun after all. I was the equivalent of the Pope in Mecca; it just didn't happen. My booth was nice and comfy. After placing my gear on the table, "What do I do next?" "Ear guards; check weapon; load, chamber, announce your preparation to fire; fire as quickly and accurately as possible. Reload and fire until you have uses all rounds," she commanded. Hmm; six meters. Standard human-scored target. I hadn't done this in a year. I shook my limbs out to get ready for the shock and recoil then steadied my breathing. Fifteen rounds, starting at the ready stance. "Ready," I pronounced. "Begin," was Constanza's muffled command. The report of the first shot, the sting of the recoil, the pull on the arm and the shell ejecting; all of those rolled over me before I could count. I almost missed the automatic slide staying open. Down went the old magazine even as my left hand retrieved and leveraged the next one in. A problem presented itself. The girl who first taught me was pretty good; in the 'if you couldn't find the prerequisite number of bullet holes in the target, everyone assumed the missing bullet had passed through one of the previous penetrations' kind of way. I was pretty lucky. She took a red hot poker to me and was thankfully far less accurate. She was so incredibly beautiful; so furious with me, naked and chasing me around a cabin lit solely by the fireplace, with that firebrand in her hand. Maybe it was wrong of me to take her English professor up to the girl's cabin for a sexual rendezvous; or stick the professor in the closet when the poor lady absolutely had go to the bathroom. Or fucked the girl on her bear skin rug until the professor had to come out of said closet before she urinated. I know; I'm an idiot. Fifteen bullets into the first target had made a mess of it. Since there was no one in either station around me, I started shooting at the target to the left. I put the last magazine into the one on the right. It took me well over thirty seconds to get all 45 shots off, but I did it. "Done," I stated as I put the gun down and took a half-step back. "Do you shoot pistols a lot?" one of my other guards asked in amazement. They had undoubtedly seen better speed and marksmanship. It was their cosmically low opinion of me that made my effort so impossible to believe. "No, I'm a Natural Born Killer," I grinned at the three of them. "Males are arrogant and take things for granted. They are sloppy," Constanza sneered. "It never fails to surprise me that you don't accept that your ancestors were some of the toughest bitches to ever walk the planet," I muttered. "What does that mean?" Constanza growled. "Warriors so tough they are remembered thousands of years later and your founders escaped with their lives; as opposed to all those Trojans, Hittites and Lydians who ended up decorating graves with their bones," I glared back. "What I mean is; why does me having a weapon really bother you? I'm am totally out-numbered, out-classed and out-gunned." "I don't want to die. I'm definitely not suicidal. I'll even take bullets, arrows and blades for you people," I snarled. "Quite frankly, all of this paranoia is really starting to get on my nerves, so fucking Cut it out!" "You do not tell us what to do," Constanza ground out. She'd grabbed my chin with one hand. "I'll keep that in mind next time an Amazon's life is in danger and a simply warning from me could save their life. Be assured I'll put your directive down for the reason they croaked," I countered. "If it was up to me, you would be killed for your insolence," she growled. "Does it ever occur to you it is the other way around?" I touched her wrist. "What?" Constanza was both irate and uncertain. "You are where you are because you have a habit of making poor decision on a strategic level," I explained. Apparently I wanted to die. "Why does anyone like you?" Constanza muttered. "Like me? Most people who know me, hate me; like you. The difference is they get to know me first then they hate me. You haven't gotten the full Cáel experience yet. You hate me on a purely generic level. Real hate comes from knowing me," I grinned. Like so much that comes from my lips, that was a lie. To be truthful, most of the women I had wronged over the past four years forgave me; eventually. Most of them figured out that I hadn't cheated on them; I cheated on EVERY girl I was with, but one; my mentor. She was the one who tossed me out among the female population in the first place. Some ladies did hold a grudge. There is one chick who burns me in effigy every year on the date of our break up. I should have known better. It was my freshman year and she was a Psychology teaching assistant. Most psych majors are wacko; more wacko than most pissed of women, I have learned from experience. I'll still date them. I also take more care about what I eat and drink around them too. "I'm glad to know you will be gone soon," she seethed then removed her hand from my chin. "Constanza, you really need to stop trusting me so much," I chuckled. "I don't trust you at all," she countered. "But you are taking my word for it that women hate me," I snickered. "More importantly, you are ignoring the facts. The majority of the women at Havenstone who like me, do so for reasons totally devoid of any intimacy. We both know I can be a jerk. I'm being a jerk right now; to you. What separates us is that I have no doubt that if you were in danger, I would come to your aid. That is the kind of person I am," I related calmly. "That would never happen," Constanza insisted. "I don't care what you think," I shot back. "I don't make decisions based on your whimsy. I follow my leadership. I know I'm loyal. Now, can we please get back to the reason we are all here?" The scoring indicated that I was so lucky that girl came at me with the poker. I missed six shots out of 45, which I thought was awesome. I even managed to badly tear up the chests of the front and left targets. The target on the right was still 'dead', but he could be buried in a tuxedo. I had one head shot; it wasn't on purpose. We went back to the gun room, reloaded my Glock, a 38 Colt and a Mossberg shotgun. One guard went with me while Constanza and the second guard scored my first round. Back in the firing lane, I lost all firearms ability what so ever. I was saved by three shooters who volunteered to help. See how easy that was? They helped me with my stances, reload techniques and argued the merits of hip holster, ankle holsters and shoulder holsters. To reciprocate their hospitality, I stripped off my annoying jacket, tie, shirt and undershirt. We got into a discussion of spent rounds bouncing around and maybe scaring the shooter. For the Amazons, it was training to ignore painful distractions. I stopped; leveled by an epic brainstorm; and fired off an order to Executive Services; care of Daphne. "What are you doing?" one of the new lethality-engines asked, somewhat piqued. "Oh, I have to celebrate Fabiola's resurrection; Hayden's orders; and that is going to require supernatural aids," I replied. I was back on track in their eyes. "What was it like to feel the strength of the Ancestors flow through you?" the second one whispered. This Ancestors and Goddess crap; mysticism was real to them. I've never claimed to be a deity though I've insinuated that I was the blood descendant of the Goddess Ishtar; reference the Wiccan Priestess; and her circle of naked female celebrants. The answer, not a total lie, was pure Amazon. "I didn't feel anything," I could sense their disappointment. "You know, all I felt was the spear and nothing else. Absolutely nothing else mattered. All other burdens and pains were lifted from me so I could devote myself entirely to the task at hand; hold the spear aloft." They ate it up because the 'stillness' was at their core of martial mystique. Bushido had it too except they called it 'No Mind', or something like that. To be honest, I had come by that state of being through sex. My focus narrowed down to my partner and all of her actions and reactions. For a lowly male, like me, to possess that quality must have been divine intervention. "You did a wonderful thing; channeling the Ancestors that way," the third stated. "Oneida is precious to the Host." "I beg to differ," I regarded her with a quirky smirk. "Every life is precious. When you start weighing a person's life before you chose to save it, you have lost much more than that split second; you have lost a piece of your soul." Oh look. I was lecturing them and they didn't like it. "Try looking at it from my viewpoint for a second," I knew they couldn't. "I'm a lowly male caught up in your fiendish experiment. I don't know who any of you are beyond the reality that you would casually harm, or even kill me for any number of reasons." "You clearly think I should cower and cow-tow to your whims and wishes," I took in their negative reactions. "I'm not. That's not me. Instead, I'm going to run errands, learn to fight, laugh, play and have a great time. If it matters; I know it doesn't to you; I am Cáel Nyilas, son of Ferko, son of Árpád of the Magyar. 'Where there is Valor, there is Hope'," I added. That wasn't my family motto. We were from poor, immigrant stock. My grandparents spoke Hungarian. I knew a little of it, just not enough to be considered fluent. I knew some Vlach (Romanian) too. When your neighbors are screaming insults at you, it pays to know exactly what they are saying. Again, I'm not fluent in Vlach, but I could get in a bar fight over what I did know. "Your lineage is inconsequential," Constanza snapped. She'd come back; yippee! "How did I do, Jefe?" I beamed happiness her way. "I hate you," she said through clenched teeth. I must have done better than I thought. "Well, that's good. Maybe, under your instruction, I'll almost be a match for the other fine ladies down here one day in the distant future," I nodded happily. "That your heart still beats is an insult to everything I stand for," Constanza spat. "I'm cool with that in the same way I'm cool ignoring this whole 'blood prestige' thing. You gals aren't respecting mine and you certainly aren't explaining your rules to me, so I'm opting out of this whole 'my old lady was better at dodging arrows than yours'." "You should not insult us this way," my closet, newest gun-buddy cautioned me. "I agree. Do you even know who the Magyar are?" I inquired. "No," she shrugged. "Go find out and then we can talk," I grinned. "Until then, you are disrespecting the aim of a sniper you don't even know exists yet is stalking you." As they were struggling to figure that out, I groaned. "You are insulting my people without knowledge of who they are. You are asking me to show respect to your people without explaining to me why. I'm sure they were wonderful, fucking women, but I don't know anything about them," I related. "If you want blind obedience, go have fun with sterility," I smirked. "I've got better and more far-sighted women I'd rather be with." "Most likely you will be milked of your seed, joined with our eggs thus creating the next generation of the host," the third girl got all riled-up. Sex. "Man," I laughed. "Am I the only one here to have figured out that I, and the other new male hires, aren't the only ones being tested? Really? Come on. If Katrina wanted to train me to use a gun, she could have sent me with Desiree to a private gun range and handled this stuff off-site. No. She had to put me here; with all of you." All those smug, superior, horny chicks just realized they'd taken a philosophical snap-kick to the cranium. Tested? Amazons were tested all the fucking time. It was their culture to keep them fit, firm and alert. Best of all, the male had to be the one to bring this to their attention. I wrapped my arm around the waist of the closest Amazon and pulled her groin to my hip. "That's okay though. I'm in this for all of you," I murmured while looking deep into her eyes; as if we were the only two people in the world. "With your aid, I think we can do this; make it work. Don't you?" She nodded. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Shotguns, pistol-grip shotguns and an MP-5 joined my list of weapons I knew the basics of afterwards. Once more, I was rendered even more attractive by the fact that I could hit a man-sized target at 6 meters with a gun I had only then picked up. I had been joking about the whole 'natural born killer' comeback. I wasn't convinced that my ancestor's ability to fight all their neighbors, sometimes all at the same time, made me kick-ass. Frankly, my people had lost wars to every European empire of the middle ages and modern times. You just couldn't keep us down. Maybe resistance was genetically based. That was crazy talk; but Grandpa was a tough SOB, as was my Dad, now that I thought about it. Gramps Old Man died fighting the Russians in world war two, which was why he fled his homeland as a child. Mom's people; they were Irish; the Irish, when not fighting for their own homeland, were fighting for some else's. Mom didn't get the time to teach me much, but I do recall this: The greatest lie the Irish ever tell is that they only hate the English. The Irish hate anyone they can get their hands on, even other Irish. If you don't believe that, look at every ethnic neighborhood in the US that border an Irish enclave. They fight with them all. I got my twisted sense of humor from my Mom. I miss her so. Knowing Mom, she wouldn't be ashamed of my infidelities. She'd probably say 'he's test-driving until he finds the one that can keep him in line'. I hoped she wouldn't be ashamed of me. My time was up. I had to go to Katrina's office. Constanza banished me with a grumpy face and a dismissive wave of the hand. The chick I had put on my hip volunteered/elbowed her way to showing me out. My ID card wouldn't open any stairwell, or elevator. She felt comfortable walking around in her underwear, plus a shoulder holstered 10 mm. Ten steps out, from her left, I snaked my hand around her back to her right hip. She looked to me and smiled. "Can you give me some advice?" I inquired. "I'll try," she hedged. "Well, you are clearly in excellent physical condition. I've been trying to put together a regimen that will get my left thigh in shape," I started. She nodded. "I've a quadriceps exercise in mind, but I'm unsure about one for the gluts," I mused. She looked uncertain. I moved my hand off her hip, over to her left hand then placed her hand force on my left ass. We were now really close. "I'm afraid of losing my muscle tone. Can you help?" "Umm;” she hesitated. "I could think of a few things." She worked herself up to giving my ass a good squeeze. This was not the first male ass she'd handled yet it was most likely the firmest and most sexually promising one she'd felt. Promising something she couldn't quite envision but felt deep within her loins. She dispensed advice. I nodded appreciatively. When I asked for some kind of confirmation, she kindly put my hand on her ass which I promptly began squeezing. Like shooting fish in a barrel. We were comparing stomach and shoulder techniques on the elevator. Her name was Naomi and she was with the Security Detail and a member of House Rajah; ally of House Arinniti. Sweet! Like clockwork, Brielle and her buddy joined me in the elevator on the ground floor. They had to know somebody to track me this well. Me shirtless with an Amazon in her undies. It must be Monday morning. "This is new," Brielle commented. "Good morning, Naomi. Forget something?" "I'm on the job," Naomi retorted. It was the whole 'going without clothes' thing. "Are you protecting a bare-chested Cáel from us, or us from a bare-chested Cáel?" her companion joked. Naomi's mouth opened then shut. "I cannot talk about it. Neither one of us can," Naomi declared with authority. "That's right, Ladies," I nodded. "What happens in the laundry room, stays in the laundry room." All those who felt I'd gone to the laundry room, raise your hands. No takers. "I smell gunpowder residue," Brielle commented after she took a close whiff. "The Dominicans, Latin Kings, and the Redneck Posse have all started fighting over that little block of paradise I call home," I sighed regretfully. Silence. "Redneck Posse? That's not one I've heard of before," Naomi commented. Here we go! "Oh yeah," I looked contemplative. "Ten years ago, several linguists studying Appalachian dialects paid for some native speakers to come to the city to help in their research. The hillbillies got paid, got jobs and brought their families down." "When the grant money for the study ran out, the bumpkins had to find another way to support their kin that their minimum wage jobs couldn't providing. Enter the Redneck Posse. Guns, meth, moonshine; they do it all. They are kind of like Afghan tribesmen except instead of being half a world away by sea, or air, they are a four, or five, hour drive down the interstate," I concluded. The three women exchanged confused looks. The doors opened on my floor. "Oh my Goddess!" Brielle exclaimed. "That's almost possible to believe." I winked and left. "You mean that was a lie too?" Naomi gasped. The doors shut on that conversation as I swept through the office. I had 90 seconds to spare. Only Dora wasn't here yet, but there was a pile of boxes on my desk. They were all looking at me as if I'd just stepped out of a pool, or a French cologne commercial. I set my clothing and valise on my tiny, now over-stacked, desk then joined the line-up. "Good morning Cáel," Katrina looked me up and down. "I certainly hope it will be. Good morning to you too, Katrina," I beamed. Pause. "Forgetting something?" Katrina prodded. I sniffed the air. I didn't sense it. "Yes Ma'am, Katrina. I'm missing one thing. I hope it gets here soon," I confirmed. Pause. "Very well, let's get started," Katrina began. Fabiola lost it. "What! He doesn't have a shirt, tie, or jacket on. As far as we know, he's not even wearing underwear," she screeched. "Cáel, is your attire, or lack thereof, necessary for the performance of your duties?" Katrina politely inquired. "Yes it is Katrina," I nodded. "Very well;” Katrina started over. "What possible reason could you have for being half dressed," Fabiola ranted. "Are you going to cover yourself with oil and slither down the stairs like the snake you are?" No one said anything for a while. The rest of the 'new hires' were coming around to the fact that Katrina and I were mocking Fabiola. Otherwise, Katrina would have shut her down. I held up my hand. "Yes Cáel," Katrina acknowledged me, "despite the meeting having already begun and not being directly addressed by me, you may speak." Slap! "Fabiola, I find your desire to see me oiled up a bit perplexing," I grinned in her direction. "I would like to point out, despite the evidence you have presented today, I am not an idiot and our boss; Katrina; is not a fool. Hate me to your heart's content, but don't insult Katrina by thinking she doesn't already know what I'm up to." "She does not explain herself to me, or you, and I'm pretty sure even Hayden gets an edited view of what goes on here in Executive Services. I don't know and I don't care. That's not in my job description and I'm already way out of bounds as it is," I said. "For your sake and your sake alone, I will tell you why I'm am dressed the way I am today." "It is part of your ritual apology," Violet blurted. "It's obvious. This has to do with what Hayden told him to do." That wasn't truly fair to Fabiola. The rest of the ladies had been rushing around getting the items I decided I needed for my public apology. Dora came bolting in right then. "I'm sorry I'm late, Katrina," she panted. "Did I miss anything?" "No," Katrina returned events to their proper order. "First off, for today, I'll start with Cáel's work review for Friday. I never thought I would say this about his on-the-clock performance. Cáel, your work output on Friday was stellar. There, I said it. Next; " That would have been a far greater treasure had that been my work report instead of Aya's. Everyone else did well, save Tigger. She had forgotten a security sequence and had half a floor locked down for 15 minutes. At the conclusion, Buffy came in, slammed a flimsy, but aromatic, box into my chest then stormed away. "Cáel?" Katrina questioned. "Yes. Thank you," I then turned to Fabiola. "Do you wish to have the ceremony here, or out on the main floor of Executive Services?" "I; what are you going to do?" Fabiola grew suspicious. "This is a trick to make me look foolish again." "Fabiola, it is Hayden's wish you hear him out," Paula spoke. "He's troublesome, not stupid. I don't think he's stupid enough to defy Hayden on this." "Swear to me you are not going to make me look bad," Fabiola stared at me. "What do I possess that you believe is valuable?" I countered. She had to think about that. It couldn't be Aya. Fabiola was stumped. She had been so busy looking down her fine Roman nose at me, she had neglected to notice everything I had done and said. "Your mentor," Daphne offered. "She has forbidden me to see her again, but thank you," I winked at Daphne. A quick list of less than helpful suggestions followed. It turned out the only thing I valued was my freedom and I couldn't give that up to Fabiola because that decision lay with Katrina. I would rather defy Hayden than give up sex, I lied continuously for little, or no reason. Fabiola wasn't looking for Lent, she wanted something concrete. It simply didn't exist. Out we went with a very distraught Fabiola and me with a bunch of small boxes. I didn't worry about expensing all this crap. I wasn't spending my own money anyway. I had Fabiola stand in the largest open area ES had. Even people who only had business on this floor were joining the growing body of my co-workers here to witness the spectacle. Three small brass bowels and one small oil lamp went to the four compass points; I even had a compass. I put sand in one, water in another and dry ice in the third. I lit the lamp. "This symbols me calling the four corners of Terra to bear witness: Earth, Air, Fire and Water," I explained. Next I wrote down Fabiola's name on a slip of paper in Old Kingdom Hittite. I burned it. Fabiola frowned. She was the only one. I dropped the ashes into a glass of water. "With this, I take back my curse. I swallow it, thus swallowing my words," I explained to Fabiola. I drank the whole thing. That accomplished, I pulled a small silver owl out of an unopened box to a series of murmurs. "This is a gift to your house. Minerva (the Roman Athena) is your patron Goddess. I do honor to her for bringing you back." I handed her the owl. Her expression told me she was still waiting for the trap to be sprung on her. I wrote out my name, in Magyar then held it up to Fabiola. "This is my name, Cáel Nyilas, in my native tongue," I told her. I burned it, ground up the ashes with my fingers. With a little bit of coordinated effort, I drew the word 'forgiveness' in Old Kingdom Hittite over my heart. The last box. It was Dobos Tortas, a sweet treat from my native land; Hungary, not Chicago. "Please accept this gift as a symbol of my apology and my desire to seek your forgiveness," I looked into Fabiola's eyes. The weight came crushing down on her. Virtually all the women around her wanted me to be forgiven. Not because they hated her. Most barely knew her; or me. It was the ceremony. Simple, relatively quick yet individualized by the giving of gifts designed for each participant. Deep in her twisted little soul, Fabiola still expected a trap, trick, or joke at her expense. She probably thought the 'cookies' were poisoned. "I forgive you," Fabiola stated. She put her hand on my shoulder. "Share a treat with me." I even let her pick out the one to stick in my mouth. Maybe she thought I had the antidote, or maybe she decided I was on the up-and-up. The crowd of Amazons made happy, communal noises and we all parted as friends; okay, friends and their dancing bear; me. Katrina snuck up on me as a handful of woman thanked me for the insightful ceremony. I told them they were welcome while neglecting to inform them that I made all of that up. Part of it was Wiccan. Part was some 1960's Italian movie I'd seen. A few things I pulled out of my ass, like normal. "Put on your clothes," Katrina handed me my things. "You did well. I am sure Hayden will be equally pleased." "No problem," I looked at her appreciatively. I felt a cerebral connection evolving between us. "Put on your shirt before I start licking your nipples," Katrina demanded. Damn it. Wait, things got better. As I looked away from Katrina and started getting dressed, Buffy appeared before me. I bet I could have melted an ice cap with the head of steam she'd built up. "Do you like dressing as a male stripper? Do you like women drooling all over you?" Buffy sizzled. "No; yes," I responded. "I hate you," she snapped. "I admire the fact that you can pull off the lead in Madame Butterfly," I bantered back. "Let's get to work," Buffy growled. Off we went. (Elsa Round Three) "Hello Stanica," Buffy greeted the SD guard at the gym facility door. That was new. Normally it was a card-swipe and in you went. Buffy and I were dressed for a workout; per orders. "Full-bloods only," Stanica stopped Buffy. Ah, racism was raising its ugly head. "How am I supposed to get in?" I countered. This appointment was in our queue for 11 a.m. "You have been summoned," Stanica clarified. "Cool; I'll be back in 70 days. Good job Chuckles," I grinned. "You have been summoned," she threatened with a great deal more menace. "He works for me today," Buffy yawned. "That means he goes where I go. Cáel doesn't have a queue today, I do. He's my intern. If you won't let me in, then he doesn't go in. Let's go Cáel." Stanica grabbed my arm. "He goes in. You stay," she insisted. "Cáel; resist," Buffy ordered. To Stanica, "Knock yourself out." Stanica briefly tried to move me. Then she went for some kind of control-hold/lock. Brazilian jujitsu, Baby. It is not some kind of 'super' martial art. As far as I knew, none of them were. If you were trying to break, or establish physical control over another person, it was pretty spectacular though. Along with the Amazon 'house' style, she knew something akin to Krav Maga. Stanica was hampered by her unwillingness to do me serious harm, as was I toward her. The difference was, all I had to do was stay in the hallway, while Stanica had to get me through the doors. The stalemate was broken by two fresh full-bloods coming from the changing room to the facilities. "Sisters, assist me," Stanica called out. "Help me wrestle him to the ground without undo damage." They came forward and jumped me. "Are you on official Havenstone business?" Buffy politely inquired as they dog piled on me. "Shut up," Stanica yelled. "Failing to adequately explain the situation," Buffy quick drew her pistol and pressed it to the temple of one of the two new Amazons, "informs me you are willingly interfering in official Executive Services business." "By all means, give me an excuse to file an incident report," Buffy grinned feral. "Do it and you die, 'Lost Blood' (Old Kingdom Hittite)," the threatened woman responded. "Boss, may I suggest an alternative?" I ground up. They had me pressed down in the hall. "I'm willing to accept you were hired for your intelligence," Buffy allowed. "Trust me. I got this," I snickered. Buffy didn't trust me, yet she knew my tone well. Buffy holstered her weapon and stood back. "This isn't over, Buffy," the Amazon she'd pulled down on snapped. "Go for it," Buffy chuckled. "You are running off with Katrina's male. I was trying to assert her rights and you have defied her. I gleefully await her judgment." The woman snarled then grunted as my three captures pulled me up. Buffy was on her phone, typing away a text when the women realized my feet weren't planted under me. I started to topple over. "Stand up, damn you," Stanica demanded. I looked to Buffy for confirmation of that order. She smiled while indicating nothing. "Stand up," the third Amazon insisted. She backed that up with a jab to my left kidney. Damn, this place was hellishly unlucky for the left side of my body. That did not encourage me to stand. "Fine, we'll drag him in," Stanica changed up. I didn't resist one bit. I acted like dead weight. This scene was made all the more precious by the audience Elsa had gathered for whatever exhibition she had planned for me. The whole sparring area was surrounded by Amazons clearly waiting on me. Most were cross-legged though a few knelt behind the first rank. I could see Elsa, spear in hand, watching those three lugging me in from her position in the Southwest corner of the mats. "What's wrong with him?" Elsa inquired calmly. "He is afraid," Stanica answered. I would have replied, but I knew silence would be far more cutting. See; everyone expect me to have a comeback. My quiet unsettled them. The three unceremoniously dumped me next to the Northeast corner. I lay there. I had noticed two axes about a meter in on the mat. I pulled myself into a position where my ass was resting on my heels. "My Sisters," Elsa began. "There has been some interest in Cáel's two-axe style as well as various theories on how to defeat it. Today, I will display the long spear technique's ability to overcome this problem." "Cáel, pick up the axes and prepare yourself. I will wait until you indicate your readiness," Elsa nodded my way. Very friendly. I looked around a bit, rather bored. "Cáel?" she repeated. I looked at Elsa. "Oh, were you under some delusion that you could tell me what to do, Elsa?" I replied. There was a hush for so many reasons. Elsa being denied, a man denying anything to any of them, and my cavalier, even dismissive attitude toward the Full-blooded assembly. "Under what delusion do you think you can safely defy me?" Elsa smiled shark-like. "Hmmm," I mused, "let me think. You are not Hayden, Katrina, or Buffy; my chain of command. You are not Aya, who I love. You are not acting in my best interest as it relates to Havenstone. Yeah, that should about cover it." "I am a woman of Havenstone and I am giving you, a male, an order. There is no acceptable reason to disobey," Elsa countered. "You are incorrect," I began. The ladies around me didn't like that. "I cannot betray my Amazons. You do not possess the power to force me to disappoint them." "Your Amazons?" A chocolate Amazon with a shaved pate jumped up. "We are not 'yours', filth." "Were you born stupid, or has education made you that way?" I spat back. An ass-whooping was in the offing. "If you came at Hayden, or Katrina, do you think I'd sit idly by and let them fight alone?" I kept at it, though I remained kneeling. "If you threaten any member of Executive Services, or House Epona, make peace with your Ancestors because I will fight, bleed and die for MY Amazons. I've already proved that oath. Your opinion on the matter is less than rat-piss to me." I'm sure arrogance has a use. I haven't found one yet, but I don't ignore the possibility. Chocolate chick grabbed for my hair, ready to slit my throat the moment she tilted my head back. This would have been appropriate if I was one of their old male population. Only total arrogance had kept her from actually listening to the words of defiance coming out of my mouth. I caught her hand, flipped her over and drove the top of her skull into the mat. That shoots a numbing jolt right up the spine, I can tell you from experience. I snatched the knife from her helpless fingers as she finished flipping over, her head closest to me then pressed the blade to her jugular. "Not a single person in this room matters to me. The only person that should matter to you, is me," I stated calmly and quietly. "That being the case, chose your next words carefully and with due consideration of everything I've said before this moment." I was going to die if I killed her. That wouldn't save her life from her own, small, razor-sharp blade. Almost a minute passed. "Cáel, give me my blade," she replied in a rather brave voice. I pulled my hand up, spun the blade around and pressed it into her palm. She slowly sat up and swiveled around until we were face to face, her cross-legged and me, back to my kneeling pose. Her eyes were ice cold. "I was never in any danger, was I?" the woman half-asked, half stated. "Of course not. I would never shame Katrina that way. I'd kill for her. Killing an Amazon to save my own life would not be something she'd allow," I explained as much to the room as the woman. "Don't lie," another Amazon teased me; thankfully. It was Traska Maza; from the Medical Center. "I heard you murdered an Amazon on Friday; end of business." "Yep," I confessed. "Hayden has admonished me from repeating that method of assassination. I swear that if Fabiola keeps calling 'Runners' 'Lost Bloods', I'm going to figure out another way to get her." "The term 'Lost Blood' is the term we use. Accept it, Male," Stanica growled. I had to think about that. I stood up, so I had a good view of the SD bitch. I also had to work up the proper insult. Anything I directed at Stanica would be useless. I knew their weakness though. "Hey," I addressed my African opponent. "Stanica's mother mated with her own paternal male to give birth to Stanica. I read it in an inner-office e-mail." Total lie, but the 'lie' wasn't mine. It was from an unnamed Amazon and it insulted her bloodline, something she truly valued. I glared at Stanica. "That is why it is insulting. In a blood-conscious culture, you are rubbing their noses in a fact beyond their control." "I agree," Oneida spoke up. "'Lost Bloods' is insulting. I had never questioned that before. 'Runners is a better term. I will ask my house to use it from now on." "That's not going to save him," Stanica seethed. "Do you want to know where the memo came from?" I inquired of Stanica. "There is no memo," Stanica snapped. I shrugged. "Why would I make it up? Such a deadly insult?" I pressed the point. Oh, I had made it up because I hate bigotry, especially when it is aimed at someone who was almost a friend. "Who?" she glared. "I don't know, but I know who does," I offered. "She's right outside that door," I pointed to the main entrance. Now, do people recall that divide I was talking about way back in Chapter Two? It worked both ways. Full-bloods were aware of the oppression they exerted on their 'Lost Blood/Runner' sisters. Creeping around in the back of some of their minds was the worry that those newcomers resented their superiors. Had the two groups been truly united, Stanica wouldn't have given my bluff a second glance. Here was the backlash of being a bigot; the idea that those you hated, hating you right back. In short order, Buffy was by my side and listening to Stanica's grievance. Finally we were speaking English again. "Man, Desiree is going to be so sorry she missed this," Buffy looked down at me. I was kneeling again so she was able to appear lofty and run her hand through my hair the way she liked to do when she was extra horny for me. I also liked the way her boobs nearly obscured her face from my view. Very nice tits. "Stanica, he lied to you," Buffy revealed. "I knew it! Stand aside, I'm going to gut the little shit," Stanica started to come at me. "No you don't," Buffy interposed herself. "See, Cáel was following his instructions and he used your idiocy against you, Dumbass," she gloated to Stanica. "He was ordered to serve at my side today, so that is what he did. Who in the right mind would commit anything about blood prestige to an office e-mail anyway? It wasn't even up to his normally superb level of deception." "Then he should be punished for lying to me," Stanica seethed. "I told him to," Buffy wasn't even lying. She'd approved my plan the moment she agreed to 'trust me'. "When?" Elsa requested. She was coming our way. Buffy looked over her shoulder. "Funny, you don't look like Katrina, Elsa," Buffy guffawed. "Make an official request through the proper channels. You don't get to tell me what to do." "Do we need to clarify our positions?" Elsa menaced. I jumped up and took up a boxing stance. With Stanica on one side, Elsa on the other and the preference of Amazons to gang up on opponents, I had to have her back. "Kneel," Buffy tapped my shoulder. I knelt. "Honestly Elsa, Cáel fucked me so hard and long this weekend that even your pettiness doesn't annoy me today. Now, why are we here?" "He's not allowed to have sex," Traska seemed a bit distressed. Me having sex outside the office had never occurred to her apparently. "Strangely, I have all of you to thank for that," Buffy smugly regarded the room. "While you let Constanza and Crewe ambush him then sat back uselessly while he kicked both their asses, gazed on as he refused to take advantage of Constanza once she was clearly incapable of resisting and let her put a blade to his throat, he found a way to legally sleep with me." "Afraid? With a blade to his throat, he couldn't care less about any of you," Buffy regaled them. "Oh, we know you don't care what he thinks; or what I think. Well, welcome to the world you've created. I don't care what you think. Blood Prestige? I'll only give as much respect as I'm given. I am embarrassed I ever thought any of you were better than me." "My prestige is that I volunteered for this lifestyle. I made a choice that no one else in this room ever had the courage to make; to abandon my old life for another, unknown one. From here on out, I'm going to be like Cáel. One of you bitches puts a hand on me, be ready to back it up," Buffy challenged them. Not the best move as far as I could tell. "Be prepared to be put in your place," Elsa grinned. "Go right ahead. Don't get too worked up. There are around a hundred of my fellow; 'Runners' at the door," Buffy smirked. "It is best to end this rebellion right now," the chocolate opponent stood up. "Over what?" I looked up. I hated Buffy making me kneel. "The 'Runners' are doing the exact same tasks you are doing. They want to be awarded respect for that." "This is not your place," the woman stated to me. As an afterthought. "Ngozi." "Thank you," I acknowledged her consideration of giving me her name. "Ha," Buffy snorted. "Oh; rebellion? Let's just say when we realized that (dead word) meant Lost Bloods, we were; unhappy. All this weekend, this petty insult had been spreading out to all our non-Full-blood sisters. Actually, we have come up with two alternatives. One was to approach Hayden with our grievance." "The other was to start calling the rest of you (dead word) (which meant 'Poison Bloods')," Buffy stared down the festering crowd. "After all, we are all fertile and the few children we have been allowed to have are born without defect." Amazons don't threaten often. Normally they simply go straight to the punishment. I was somewhat of an exception for reasons that somehow alluded me. I tried to stand again, but Buffy pushed me back down. Pain was imminent then the muttering began. Around us, small clumps of Full-bloods began pushing for space. That could only mean they were getting ready to fight and since they weren't close to us, they were getting ready to fight their own sisters. I doubted they were enamored with me, or the 'Runner' cause. This was a common sense reaction. They recognized a no-win contest when they saw it. 'Runners' were demanding respect; same recognition for taking the same risks. They weren't even asking for admission into the 'Host'; the true Amazons and their House structure. The tipping points in this protest had been Fabiola and the loyalist opposition led by Helena, the only 'Runner' close enough to my struggle Friday afternoon that could have started it. Remember, the Old Kingdom Hittite language was a closely guarded secret. So secret that Buffy, despite her years of loyal service, hadn't been taught it. There had been decades of small slights that led to this. It wasn't me, except for the definition thing. Fabiola was hardly an aberration. The other female 'new hires' were more the exception than the rule. That was probably why Katrina had chosen them. In her profession; internal and external security; creative thinking and flexibility were as important as blood lines. "Excuse me," a soft voice penetrated the chaos. The noise died down. Tessa Carmichael moved through the crowd to the mat. "Oh, by the Seven Sister Goddesses, of course Cáel Nyilas is here." Then, in English, "Buffy, pardon me but I think this needs my attention." See, a good ass-reaming is done in a target's native language. Tessa went back to Old Kingdom Hittite. "Why are there a 150 sisters outside in the hall milling around?" Tessa began. She held up her hand to truncate the various responses. "Why does it look like you are all preparing for a general melee? Lastly, why are Buffy and Cáel even here? You would think that after his last episode, he'd be avoiding this place." "The 'Lost Bloods' outside are part of a rebellion of their kind, a few of our sisters don't appreciate the threat this poses and; Cáel is here because Elsa invited him here," Ngozi explained. "I'm not exactly sure why Buffy is here?" "Cáel, have you inflicted this building with a histrionic-inducing vapor?" Tessa looked at me with exasperation. I blinked. I had to recall what 'histrionic' meant then I knew what to do. I held up my hand in front of my face, exhaling into it to see if something was 'bad' with my breath. Next, I sniffed my underarms. Lastly, I peeked down my tight shorts to make sure that wasn't the cause. "Nope," I reassured Tessa, "I'm good. I mean, I've been good; this time." "Will miracles never cease," Tessa muttered. The comedy was bleeding the tension and hostility from the room. "Let me try this again. Since top down doesn't work, let's start in the dirt beneath the basement. Cáel, what is going on?" "Okay; give me a second to make this sound reasonable and convincing," I furrowed my brow. "For starters, Buffy and me were working the queue which currently indicated that I was to come here and participate with Elsa in a weapons exhibition," I began. "Buffy became confused by the flickering ceiling lights so I persevered alone. While we waited, Elsa and I engaged in a discussion of corporate etiquette." "The conversation migrated into matters of close combat techniques and mat thickness, which Ngozi assisted with. Clearly satisfied that we were all becoming fast friends, the discussion traveled to Old Kingdom Hittite terminology, background and the ambiguity of some definitions," I continued my literary conjurations. "Buffy discovered she hadn't made me her bitch in the past ten minutes, so hunted me down to this place," I grinned at Buffy. "Since Buffy was hankering for a bit of cuddle time, we were wrapping up the matter of 'Lost Bloods' only being used by total Prom Queen Wannabes while 'Runners' was growing in popularity because it was a word actually used at your people's genesis." Pause. "Was any bit of that the truth?" Tessa looked to Elsa and Ngozi. "No," they both responded. "But, it makes the mess that happened sound far better than the reality," Ngozi added. "That I will agree with," Elsa said. "Buffy," Tessa addressed my boss in English, "the Council will discuss this matter of terminology at the next meeting. Have our sisters outside disperse." "Yes Tessa," Buffy nodded then weaved her way to the entrance. Tessa walked up, patted me on the head as she shook hers. "We really should poison, strangle, stab, shoot and finally throw you off the highest available peak," she smiled warmly at me; psycho. "If you added 'rolling me in a carpet and tossing me in a frozen river' we could call it 'pulling a Rasputin," I grinned back. "I love you," she looked all affectionate. I wanted to cry on the inside; and the outside. "Damn! Now you tell me," I grumbled. "I sent away for a mail-order bride from the Ukraine on Sunday and you know there is no money-back guarantee." "You are enchanting," she chuckled. I wanted to die. "You'll get used to us, I promise." Yes, the head of Human Resources could read my mind. "Tessa, before I get back to Elsa demolishing me, can I ask you something?" I inquired. "Yes." "During that last interview process, you were seriously throwing out the 'let's do it on the table' vibe, weren't you?" I posed. "Very much so," she beamed utter joy. "I was truly impressed that, with your history with woman, you constrained yourself." "If I had come on to you, would I have lost this job opportunity?" I asked. "Oh Goddess no," Tessa laughed. "Someday I should let you read the sheaves and sheaves of transcripts our investigators gathered on your sexual exploits." "That's why you've never encountered anyone from Human Resources in the building. They are forbidden to be alone, or only in the company of other Human Resources employees, with you out of fear they'd rape you," Tessa informed me. "Is he really that good?" Traska asked. "His college years don't read as a triple X rated movie; they read as top shelf erotic fiction," Tessa enlightened the masses. "Oh, Cáel, the nun hopes you're are still seeking spiritual fulfillment." "Cool. How is she doing?" I responded. "She's in Uganda, working at a Catholic school for war orphans," Tessa answered. "You slept with a nun?" Oneida gulped. "Oneida, if there was no intern program, and this wasn't an Evil Empire, I'd never leave this place. I'd move my bed into a spare room, set up a mini-bar and spend every second off the clock seducing each and every one of you," I stated. Even the ones who didn't terribly like me chuckled, snorted, or laughed. "To answer your question: sort of Oneida. I slept with a woman who was about to take Holy Vows, not truly a nun," I confessed. "I've slept with a Wiccan Priestess too, if that matters." "Why do you think you can treat us like those lesser women?" Ngozi looked angry. "You have tits, a vagina, are straight, or bisexual, and between the ages of 18 to 70," I shot right back. "I have no desire to sleep with men, or lesbians. Outside of that, given somewhere between five minutes and five days, I could nail every women in this room. It is not that I'm better than any of you." "I can do it because you all are hopelessly arrogant, thus unable to put forth an effective defense because you don't believe I can seduce you. Add to that, I can figure out what you want in an erotic encounter. End of story," I sighed. "Frankly, having lived lives devoid of romance, you Full-bloods are too easy." I could see Tessa smirking. Not only had I seduced all kinds of women, apparently all of them had been willing to relate those encounters. I'm a great lover and a lousy boyfriend. "We would never submit to your predations," yet another Amazon jumped in. Sex. I told them, they are simply too easy; except Katrina, Tessa and Hayden. They were scary. I'd still sleep with them because I had no common sense. "Hey Lady, if you want to be on top, I'm okay with that," I smiled disarmingly. Plant the idea of erotic positions early. It can be as easy as pushing up against a girl from behind, or a hug. "If I ever consented to have sex with you, you would do what I said," she persisted. "That sounds like fun; 70 more days and its Hunting Season," I winked. I repeat,

Coach Zoe and I get together for a "Coaches' Corner” discussion about 4 problems in the fitness industry at the moment (and what to do about them!), and many other topics. Coach Zoe is a fitness coach and marketing and community engagement professional. Her athletic background spans a wide range of endeavours, including three professional boxing matches, half-marathons, Muay Thai, multi-day endurance hiking, and distance swimming. Coach Zoe currently holds a Yellow Belt in Krav Maga. She is the co-founder of Ban Fur Farms BC, and the founder of the Vancouver Vegan Resource Centre (VVRC). Zoe has been vegan for 14 years, and an animal rights activist for (almost) the same duration of time. Coach K is a fitness and nutrition coach, author of five books, 22-year vegan, and magazine writer. She's the founder of K.I. Health & Fitness, where she and her team lead award-winning coaching programs that help vegans worldwide get super strong and build health habits they'll still hold at the age of 103. She holds a Masters degree in Gerontology, specializing in health and aging. Her work has been profiled by CNBC, Huffpost, Healthline, Bustle, Livestrong, and more. Listen in as we have a coaches' chat! 

Episode Summary: Join us as military veteran turned entrepreneur Amy Wees takes us on a journey from her Air Force days to becoming a powerhouse in the world of e-commerce. Discover how a simple need to tackle her pets' litter box odor led Amy down a path of innovation, resulting in a successful product that changed the game for her and many others. With a focus on creativity and resilience, Amy reveals the pivotal moments that shaped her entrepreneurial spirit and empowered her to assist other budding business owners through her consultancy, Amazing at Home.Amy doesn't just share her story; she offers valuable lessons on product development and profitability. From the art of validating ideas with real market feedback to the nuances of building a working prototype, Amy provides a roadmap for turning concepts into viable products. Learn how to navigate the complex landscape of supplier negotiations, likened to the stages of dating, and the critical steps in forming lasting partnerships with manufacturers. Her expertise is a treasure trove for anyone looking to make their mark in the industry.Beyond the technicalities of business, Amy delves into the mindset needed to thrive in e-commerce. She discusses effective marketing strategies and the importance of community building, emphasizing the psychological elements that drive consumer decisions. Amy's personal interests, like bodybuilding and Krav Maga, offer a glimpse into the grit and determination that fuel her success. Tune in for an enriching conversation packed with insights, and be inspired by Amy's passion for helping others succeed.Resources Mentioned:Amazing at Home WebsiteBooks:The Inner Work (Personal growth book that changed Amy's life)Platforms:Amazing at Home YouTubeAmazing at Home Facebook GroupConect with Amy WeesWebsite: https://www.amazingathome.com/about/Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/amazingathome/X, Formerly known as Twitter: https://x.com/amazingathomeInsta: https://www.instagram.com/amazingathomeLinkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/company/amazingathome/ Support the show

Hey, everybody. Welcome back to the podcast. We are talking a bit about the RM SDF move here and just your footwork and fundamentals in Krav Maga, just had, you know, two second degree black belts. Just, you know, we're doing some basic 101 stuff today, and it's not also basic when you get down into it.There's just so much more, you know, and how much you want to focus and really get good and get a masterful understanding of what you're doing, because there's just so many degrees of learning, and you got to just focus on that. Guys, we see people, um, with toes on the ground, you know, no good contact, and it takes some time, you know, how much bandwidth do you want to put into your fight stance, into your self defense?Hey, you're going to be better, is what I told one of the coaches. You know, students come in once or twice a week, and, you know, maybe they're spending just that. That's the only time they're focused. Maybe, you know, here and there, they think about something. Maybe on the drive home, whatever, they're driving to class, and maybe they're thinking about it, and then you get the people that are thinking about it all the time.How much bandwidth are you capable of or want to devote to your self defense training and, you know, to second, uh, degree black belts today? Just really getting deepest into just your fight stance and the timing of that punch coming from that krav maga non ready position. Right. I wasn't ready to defend myself, and I need to go from a neutral stance.Those of you guys don't know it, essentially just staying in their toes, kind of in around the same line, and you're bursting into that fight stance, sending a weapon, possibly addressing a stick defense, a knife attack, and you're doing a 360 or a redirection against that stance and the timing of that punch and where your foot is when that punch lands, you can really get deep into the weeds and get a deeper understanding of it, you know?How much bandwidth do you want to put into it? Some people want to put in a whole ton. Some people just want to just be a little bit better. Hey, as long as you're doing something, in my opinion, at least you're better. You know, you're spending 2 hours a week focused on your self defense.That's better than zero, um, that most people do out there. You know, if you're doing any martial art, I give you credit for doing it. Do something, man. Just get a little bit better. Be able to protect yourself and your family, it blows my mind on men that, you know, especially, um, women need to defend themselves.But I'm a guy, so I'm speaking from my standpoint that, man, you gotta be able to defend your family. And there's such a misconception out there, you know, I gotta fight in 8th grade. You think you can defend yourself at 40? You're kidding yourself. You got to do something.And that's where, you know, my passion for self defense and krav maga and where it started, you know, go home. I want to be well rounded. Um, I feel, you know, different Krav maga schools offer different things. You know, what we do here at RMSDF is encompass. You know, the firearm, self defense, you know, whether it's on the ground, standing up, you know, weapon defenses, there's a lot of competition stuff, that's great.But if you're not with that weapon all of the time, you know, uh, all of the time, a majority of the training time, it's just words. You're just talking. Yeah, this is what I would do against the knife. But if you're not doing it on a weekly basis or on a regular basis, I think weekly, um.You're fooling yourself, guys. It's, yeah, I'm sorry, but you are. Um, it's ridiculous. Um, it drives me as, as much crazy as just people out there in politics and, you know, getting tribal. I mean, just tell me why, um, you want to vote for somebody, you know, give me a good reason.I see just so much out there that people just get caught up in and tribal on krav maga being the best self defense system. No, it's anything, guys, we can borrow from anything. Just a name. Just like the republican party. The Democratic Party. Oh, man, some of them have just become names.And it's driving me crazy because I think, uh, there's a lot of people going down the wrong road. You know, big corporations are beating us all up. No matter what party you are, you know, we've got to just look out for the common good. But, man, that stuff drives me crazy.Um, probably more crazy than, you know, people defending themselves and getting tribal about their martial art. It's got to be well rounded, guys. And that's what drew me into Krav Maga, and that's, you know, our brand of Krav maga. You know, some, some schools get too caught up in the workout of it, and, you know, that's great.I love to be in good shape because I got to tell you, it has saved me more times insparring and going to instructor training is just being in good shape is going to get you a, uh, out of a lot of trouble because you're conditioned, you're stronger or strong as you could be.So, you know, focus on that stuff. What else were we talking about? Oh, yeah, our move. So a lot of people, um, let them, uh, you know, their minds wander. We have decided at RMSDF, my wife Jenny and I, to sell our building and go to a smaller location.Like I said in my first announcement, I've been wanting to get back to my roots on Nantucket island where I started teaching. And in a small place, you don't need a big thing. You know, a lot of martial arts, uh, school owners can, you know, get caught up in bigger is better and, you know, look at 24 hours fitness.They're giant and they're crowded. And how much attention do you get in there? Well, you're really not paying for any. You're just paying to come in and use the equipment. We are really trying to get back to where we were or where I started from, and it's small, no nonsense.We've decided to, um, sell the building and invest that in a 1031, um, exchange and do an investment property. We are not buying the building that we're moving to on Malibu. That's what a lot of people have thought. We're not buying that building where, um, you know, you might say, defer diversifying.Um, we're just doing something different, um, and know, working on not killing yourself. You know, the bigger your gym, the more members you have, the more, the more, the more. And it's not, ah, necessarily profitable and it's not necessarily the best experience for your members. You know, big gyms are hard to handle.You need a lot of, you know, you need staff, you need square footage and that square footage in Castle Rock is expensive. So, you know, some gymshe, uh, you know, I get into, you know, are they doing it full time? You know, if they're not great, you know, you got another side of income.So, hey, your gyms just kind of fun, a little bit of side income, you know, that's great. But people doing it full time, you know, it's super competitive. I think a lot of gyms out there, um, despite in Castle Rock and across the country, get caught up and man, they all beat each other up over price.I got to tell you, our prices are on our website. You know, you can check them out right there. Other gyms, you guys go ahead and check it out. Um, stop competing, um, price, they just lowball, low ball because and just, it degrades the whole thing. Um, we uh, don't have to do that anymore.That's, you know, part of our move that we don't have to be this uh, ultra competitive because we need so many members in a larger gym. That's just the way it is. Know, uh, either that you get a big ginormous space in Castle Rock and all your members are paying five or $600 a month.Um, that's how that math would work. Otherwise your gym, you know, if there, it's a $100 that's, you know, way below average. You know, you're looking at more like, you know, the 150 to the 180s is kind of the national average of what I see in research and data that comes in from uh, our gym software and other gym software's of what people are charging uh, from their databases.So that I guess hopefully answers a lot of questions. We are going to be, it's uh, I put on the website, I think it's 282 Malibu street, uh, unit a four. We are going to be moving to the back building because our building and the build out of their second floor offices, not my office, as you can see, a little bit different setup behind me.I've moved into our loft which uh, hasn't been used in a long time. So just utilizing that space and giving my wife, uh, when she is working from home, our home office, so we're not kind of conflicting and uh, I can hang out, listen to Joe Rogan and uh, not bother her or whatever else I'm doing, uh, when we are working at home.So I've moved up into the loft and you know, that was a thing with that other building. We had a lot, we had a giant kind of private training room that we used once in a while. Square ah, footage is expensive in Castle Rock. So, you know, we decided that it was time, uh, to sell that and simplify, simplify.That is the reason, um, and try not to work so much when you need so many members. You need to put in a lot of effort into that gym. Not that we're going to be taking away, um, effort. And what we're offering all of you, we really want to keep honing in and just specializing with.I'd rather teach a small group of people and really get to know them. That's the type of gym I started at. And you know, RMSDF, uh, has been pretty big over the years and even me not knowing people in different classes. So that is what we're looking for. I guess so.Um, I think it's time to wrap this sucker up. If you'd like to be a guest on the show, if you're one of our members, you're out there, let, um, me know. Always looking for that type of stuff. One of the hardest things of this podcast.All right, and as always, you guys can support this podcast by shopping at the RMSDF store. Shop dot r m s d f for all the rocky mountain gear. If you're looking for the clear sky training, check out shop. Clear goodness. Uh, I can't talk today. Shop clearsky training.You can also train online. I highly encourage all you members to get on there. We're putting lots of videos and you can train at home and just review. And again, the bandwidth. How much bandwidth do you want to put in it? You can put in more and just watch that video or watch the videos.I can't talk today, guys. I got to wrap it up. Clear sky dot training. And if you guys need supplements, really help me out here. We have suck less co everything from bcaas to protein. It will help, you know, supplement what you do. So a lot of good stuff there that'll really help support the podcast.We have, you know, gotten rid of the partnerships and done it ourselves. And, uh, no longer doing, uh, well, you can still get any of the other stuff, prestige labs, really good stuff. But we've decided, you know, to kind of cut out the middleman, so to speak, and do our own supplements.So check it out, guys. We got some good incentives if you guys are a member and want to start a subscription. So check it out. Suckless co. All right, guys, train more, suck less. Get out there and do something. Have a good rest of your day. Thanks for listening.

In Krav Maga, Retzev is a key principle that emphasizes continuous, aggressive, and relentless attack. The word “Retzev” itself comes from Hebrew, meaning “continuous” or “flow.” In a self-defense scenario, Retzev involves maintaining constant pressure on your attacker through a seamless series of strikes, transitions, and movements without giving them a chance to recover or counterattack. Read More: https://rmsdf.com/what-does-retzev-mean-in-krav-maga-self-defense/

In this episode, we explore how shifting your mindset from battling poverty to embracing prosperity opens the door to success. Plus, learn the power of documenting your journey and why the dots of your diverse skillsets only connect looking back, not forward.To contact Antonio T. Smith Jr.https://www.facebook.com/theatsjrhttps://www.amazon.com/stores/Antonio-T.-Smith-Jr/author/B00M3MPVJ8https://www.linkedin.com/in/antoniotsmithjrhttps://antoniotsmithjr.comhttps://www.instagram.com/theatsjr Key Themes and LessonsProsperity vs. Poverty Mindset:Focus on fighting for prosperity rather than against poverty.Reframe challenges as opportunities happening for prosperity, not to you.Content Strategy:Season 8 of the "Secret to Success" podcast dropped all at once, akin to Netflix.Emphasis on documenting experiences for future use, following the “document, don't create” principle.Lessons from past efforts (such as recordings from six years ago) can be leveraged even if they didn't seem relevant at the time.Personal Branding:Struggles with integrating diverse skillsets (e.g., carpentry, poetry, math teaching) into a unified personal brand.Steve Jobs' philosophy: Dots can only be connected in retrospect, not looking forward.Multifaceted Talents:Embrace and document your various skills, even if they seem unrelated (e.g., land navigation, Krav Maga).Record everything; you can always explain away quality issues later if the content is valuable.Business and Marketing StrategiesAudience Engagement:Multiple podcast seasons available to keep audiences engaged during quarantine.Binge-style content releases attract more downloads and engagement.The more content you release, the higher your ranking will be in podcast platforms due to the download volume.Free Content and Value Offering:Offer recession courses for free to help 750,000 people.Leverage free courses as a method for expanding the audience and providing value.Leadership InsightsDecision Making:Leaders must make tough decisions, sometimes hurting feelings in the process.Good leaders make decisions that not everyone will enjoy, but it's necessary for progress.Handling Coronavirus:Teams need to be mindful of safety protocols as states reopen during the pandemic.Tough choices may need to be made, either personal feelings will get hurt or you will.Productivity and Goal SettingStructuring Time for Success:Grace is encouraged to structure her day for both creating math videos and making sales calls.Three methods suggested:Split the day in half (morning for one task, afternoon for another).Alternate tasks every other hour (less effective for maintaining focus).Work in focused blocks (e.g., dedicate several days to sales, then switch to content creation).Efficiency and Technology:Use technology (OBS Project) to automate and streamline tasks like live videos, allowing simultaneous focus on other areas like calls.Goal-Oriented Approach:Achieve goals (e.g., 250 sales leads) quickly to free up time for personal projects.Opportunities for Team GrowthFree Business Mentorship:An opportunity for two team members to apply for a 90-day mentorship program to build their businesses from scratch.Focus on immediate customer acquisition and long-term business growth.Final Insights and ChallengesCall to Record Everything:Document all efforts, whether audio or video, as valuable lessons can come from it down the line.Team Challenge:Leadership team encouraged to focus on reaching personal and business goals with structured and deliberate planning.Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/the-secret-to-success/exclusive-contentAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

“Train like a fighter, think like a soldier, fight like a warrior.  I believe confidence has to be done with inoculation.  In martial arts we have stress and aggression drills that inoculate us to pain, it's like they give us a little bit of poison, and the next night a little more poison, then a year and a half later, when we are in the arena with real fighting, we can perform.  In sparring you have to give students inoculations, it's got to be done in a logical progression, because if you don't do it in a logical progression, those students will break.  So first they need to learn defensive maneuvers, then they got to learn how to block and get hit, it's got to be done in a systematic progression with sparring drills that lead the way.  This is how you build confidence.”—Mike Lee KanarekMy guest this episode is Mike Lee Kanarek, who is a multi discipline martial arts master.  He is the founder of Haganah, a 6'th degree Black Belt in Joe Lewis Fighting Systems, a 4th Degree Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do, a 1'st Degree black belt in Krav Maga, a Brown belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, and Former Special Forces.  He was inducted into the Black Belt Magazine Hall of Fame and was Instructor of the year in 2007.  He is a teacher of teachers and has instructed Special Units in every branch of the US Military.This episode is all about progressively developing the warrior spirit and trusting yourself in combat.  My key takeaway is that constant growth and evolution is essential to building trust and performing under pressure.  In life and death situations, those who have prepared themselves by testing themselves under pressure, will have the confidence to execute in chaos.  A principles based modular approach that addresses the physical, mental, tactical, and spiritual aspects of an individual is essential for growth and development in combat and in life.  We discuss the importance of integrating fighting training from sports combat with self-defense training to develop a complete martial artist.  Mr. Kanarek is truly a Machine, he has a unique sense of his purpose, and is driven to make the world a safer place by creating warriors on and off the battlefield.  Join me for an amazing episode with a one of a kind martial arts personality.

In this episode, we welcome Sensei Chris Hanson, a martial artist with over 40 years of experience and founder of Karate Unity, based in Toronto, Canada. By blending traditional Karate with cross-training in combat sports and tactical combatives, Chris brings a fresh perspective. We discuss the benefits of cross-training, its role in self-defense, and how martial arts can be a tool for emotion regulation and personal peace. Chris also reflects on his deep respect for all martial arts and touches on classic films like Enter the Dragon and Jackie Chan's Big Brawl.

Great show this week. Fantasy troubles, Krav Maga, Trump, Tyreek Hill, and Florida Man.

SUMMARY In this episode of Whistlekick Martial Arts Radio, Jeremy interviewsMaster Eyal Yanilov, the head instructor of Krav Maga Global. Eyal discusses the evolution of Krav Maga and how it has become a comprehensive system that incorporates self-defense, combat, and fighting techniques. He explains the importance of principles, variations, and tactics in Krav Maga training. Eyal also shares his journey from being an electrical engineer to dedicating his life to spreading Krav Maga globally. He emphasizes the sacrifices and coincidences that led him to his mission. Throughout the conversation, Eyal highlights the unique aspects of Krav Maga and its practical applications in real-life situations. He emphasizes the importance of dealing with reality and understanding the nature of the aggressor. Yanilov also addresses the issue of fake Krav Maga instructors and the need for proper training and teaching methods. He highlights the value of faith, trust, and belief in oneself in martial arts and in life. TAKEAWAYS • Krav Maga is a comprehensive system that includes self-defense, combat, and fighting techniques. • The evolution of Krav Maga involved the development of principles, variations, and tactics. • Krav Maga is known for its practical applications in real-life situations. • Krav Maga was developed to protect Jewish communities from anti-Semitic attacks. • The system emphasizes dealing with reality and understanding the nature of the aggressor. • There are fake Krav Maga instructors who teach incorrect techniques and tarnish the system's reputation. • Proper training and teaching methods are essential for effective self-defense. • Faith, trust, and belief in oneself are important in martial arts and in life.

Does sparring break Krav Maga principle?

e're talking about right now is Krav Maga. Look, sometimes when we say there's a video arm, I forget the title. Um, but somebody's like, that's a BJJ move. Let's be clear. Krav Maga is a system that borrows from any martial art. We don't care. And sometimes when I'm making a video, I don't say, hey, this is ex watt from x martial art, right?The whole system borrows from anything that works. And people forget that Krav, uh, Maga students, you get all tied up in Krav maga. I remember, um, one of my students one time, uh, we were at a, um, seminar, and the guy said, I like the Krav maga version of that better.I'm like, well, actually, it's a BJJ version. This guy's just doing something slightly different, right? There's different styles to everything. But he was all tied to Krav Maga, going, I like the Krav maga version. I'm like, it's not even a krav maga technique. And everything from Krav Maga is borrowed from whatever works.That's what I like about it, right? Bruce Lee, way of nowhere. We don't care, right? So, to be clear, if I don't say in the video, like, the whole system's borrowed, right? The whole system is borrowed. Um, maybe the gun. And I'm

Send us a Text Message.In this special episode of *The Daily Apple*, Kevin White talks with Timothy Jones, the CEO from Precision Nutrition, for an enlightening conversation about the intersection of nutrition, health, and longevity as we discussed his health journey and how he naturally cut his cholesterol numbers in half after a surprise finding as discussed from his recent Men's Heath article.Tim shares his unique approach, how he dramatically changed his life since that time, leaving no stone unturned, what he's learned, data collection & sleep optimization,  improving his health dramatically with lifestyle management, and improving his cholesterol numbers, (dramatically lowering his ApoB).   While this was an extensive, expensive endeavor, we break things down for steps individuals can take and what he's learned that is useful for everyone.  And t's not all science as we touch on boxing, Krav Maga, Muay Thai, and wing foiling (!!!!!), and how these activities contribute to his holistic approach to health. The episode also highlights the innovative work of Prime Health Associates, known for integrating advanced nutrition and wellness practices into patient care.Whether you're an athlete, a health enthusiast, or just someone eager to live a longer, healthier life, this episode is packed with valuable insights. Tune in for a rooftop conversation with a great human that could transform how you think about food, stress, and overall well-being. Prime Health Associates

Full transcription available at http://heartsofgoldpodcast.com/  Neha's project, centered around dogs and the issue of overcrowded shelters, led her to create a nonprofit called Pawprints. The nonprofit focuses on raising awareness about the importance of microchipping and GPS tracking collars to prevent dogs from getting lost and ending up in shelters. Neha shared her personal connection to the project, including her experience rescuing her dog Aggie, who was saved from euthanasia at an overcrowded shelter. She discussed the educational materials she created, which include information on properly registering microchips and options for GPS tracking collars. One of the biggest challenges Neha faced was her fear of public speaking, which she overcame by preparing thoroughly and diving into the experience. She credited her mom, project advisor Kelly Carey, and council advisor Marty Hall for their support throughout the project. Neha also reflected on her growth through the project, particularly in public speaking and time management, as she balanced her project with school and other activities. She encouraged future Girl Scouts to pursue their Gold Award despite the challenges, emphasizing the rewarding nature of the process. Neha shared her future plans, including her goal to become a dentist, and her hopes for the continuation of her nonprofit. We wrapped up with a fun question about how she makes her s'mores, revealing her preference for slightly burnt marshmallows.   More About Neha: After adopting her senior dog from a shelter, Neha understood the severity of overcrowding in animal shelters. While most people focus on pet adoption as a solution to overcrowding, she wanted to address the problem of people losing their pets, which often end up in shelters until they are found. Neha identified microchips and GPS collars as an easy but underutilized solution for lost pets. She spoke at shelters and created pamphlets, social media accounts, and a website to share information on GPS collars and encourage pet owners to purchase one for their pets. Neha has been in Girl Scouts since she was a Daisy in Kindergarten and plans to continue until she graduates from high school this upcoming school year. Through school, she is involved in the speech and debate team as well as the varsity bowling team. Outside of school, Neha enjoys participating in Krav Maga and playing the piano. After she graduates, she plans to pursue a career in dentistry.   Key Takeaways from this episode: Addressing Root Causes: Neha's Gold Award project focused on addressing the root causes of overcrowded shelters by promoting the use of microchips and GPS tracking collars to prevent dogs from getting lost and ending up in shelters. Personal Connection: Neha's personal connection to the project stemmed from her love for dogs, particularly her own rescue dog, Aggie, who was saved from being euthanized at an overcrowded shelter. Overcoming Challenges: Neha faced and overcame her fear of public speaking through her project, which ultimately helped her grow and become more confident in speaking engagements. Share this show with your friends on Twitter. Click to have an editable already written tweet! https://ctt.ac/33zKe Sign up for our newsletter: https://bit.ly/3rx06pr   Join our Facebook Community https://www.facebook.com/sherylmrobinson/ Instagram https://www.instagram.com/sherylmrobinson/?hl=en Please subscribe to Hearts of Gold on YouTube at https://www.youtube.com/sherylmrobinson or on your favorite podcast app. Support future Hearts of Gold episodes at https://www.patreon.com/heartsofgold Editing by https://www.offthewalter.com/ Walter's YouTube channel is https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCt0wFZRVaOpUd_nXc_8-4yQ

As a military veteran or first responder, you need to be planning and implementing strategies to prepare for your transition into civilian life. In this episode of the Transition Drill Podcast, Kelley Moore shares his journey from growing up in a close-knit, church-going family to his career in law enforcement. Moore discusses the pivotal moment that steered him away from computer consulting into law enforcement, and his eventual 27 year career with the California Highway Patrol (CHP); he retired in 2023 at the rank of Lieutenant. He recounts his eye-opening experiences getting assigned to a gang task force, and the challenges he faced changing the physical fitness culture within the CHP. Moore's dedication to protecting others, even in the face of personal and professional adversity, shines through as he reflects on his eventual decision to retire amidst shifting political landscapes and increasing scrutiny of law enforcement. Today, Moore continues his commitment to service and leadership as director of security for a church and he provides insight into the ongoing and increasing security threats facing places of worship. SPONSORS: Trident Coffee Get 15% off your purchase Link: https://tridentcoffee.com Promo Code: TDP15 SOFLETE Get 20% off your purchase Web: https://soflete.com Promo Code: TDP20 CONNECT WITH THE PODCAST: IG: https://www.instagram.com/paulpantani/ WEB: https://www.transitiondrillpodcast.com QUESTIONS OR COMMENTS: paul@transitiondrillpodcast.com CONNECT WITH KELLEY: LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/kelley-moore-80b678276/ IG: https://www.instagram.com/kelleymoore80/ EMAIL: kjhmoore@protonmail.com

Pastor Michael reflects on the story of Lot's escape from Sodom as described in Genesis 19. He highlights the importance of fully committing to God's call and distancing oneself from a lifestyle bound in sin, drawing a parallel to the principles of Krav Maga.

Adam Scholl - Scholl Security Group  Current full time Combatives and firearms instructor for US Gov Agency. Deploys regularly in support of U.S. Gov in same role. Renzo Gracie BJJ black belt, Krav Maga black belt. 2 karate black belts, and Matt Larsen Combatives Black Belt.  Former LEO, Sgt w tactical unit in Philadelphia charged with investigating locating and apprehending fugitives from Philadelphia court system, and taught firearms, tactics, DT for the department as well. Served at U.S. Marshal Task Force Officer on Violent Crime Fugitive Task Force and served on FBI Violent Crime Task Force. DOD fieldcraft instructor 6 years. Taught Combatives, firearms, tactics, high threat driving and many other skills.  Close protection/executive protection agent.  Worked for NFL, NBA, Apple and many others providing protection CONUS and OCONUS.  20 years nightclub experience as director of security for many high volume night clubs in Philadelphia. https://www.schollsecuritygroup.com/ EvoSec Improving Grip and Stance 6/22/24 WE ARE PUMPED TO HAVE A NEW AFFILIATE LINK FOR ORIGIN AND JOCKO FUEL!!!  Help support this show by purchasing any of your JiuJitsu gear, Jocko Supplements, books clothing and more... link below. Origin/Jocko Fuel – Bringing back American manufacturing, producing the best Jiu-Jitsu Gis on the market, Jeans, rash guards, and world class supplements to help you on the path.  Use EvoSec10 at checkout for 10% off, this helps us greatly.  EVOSEC Originusa.com AFFILIATE LINK Tenicor – www.tenicor.com they are educators, and innovators in the holster market.  They are firearms instructors themselves, pressure testing their gear in multiple force on force events every year.  We support those who do the work.   Please visit our new sponsor Training Ground at https://thetrainingground.life  Training Ground offers top notch trianing in Jiu Jitsu, Judo, Tang Soo Do and Firearms.  An environment where learning is paramount for both students and instructors.   Again, patronizing our sponsors helps us greatly. 

In this week's podcast, Marcus Torgerson speaks with Kevin Estela about bullying, a lifelong pursuit of martial arts, Krav Maga, bouncing and red flags in bars and restaurants, living as a survivor instead of a victim, living in sobriety, and more. Marcus has appeared in Clint Emerson's 101 Dead Skills Book as well as Jack Carr's Podcast. He has become a speaker with the Apogee program and helps people around the globe become a nightmare for bad guys. Follow him at @marcustorgerson and www.marcustorgerson.com. Sponsors and Affiliates: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠BioProtein Technology⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠: Code "Fieldcraft" for $30 off the BioPro+ HGH Product ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Wolf21⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ - Code "FCS20" for 20% off ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠USCCA⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠DiamondBack Truck Covers⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Firecracker Farm⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠: Code “Fieldcraft” for 15% off first order ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Babbel⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠: 55% off subscription with FIELDCRAFT ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Athletic Greens⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠athleticgreens.com/FIELDCRAFT⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ for FREE One Year Supply of Vitamin D, 5 Travel Packs with first purchase ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Oakley⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠: 15: off with code FIELDCRAFT15 ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠KC Hilites⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠: Code: fieldcraft for 10% off ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Anthem Snacks⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠: Code FIELDCRAFT15 for 15% off FOLLOW US: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Fieldcraft Survival Youtube⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Fieldcraft Survival Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Fieldcraft Survival Website

EVEN MORE about this episode!Join Julie Ryan on a journey of resilience and human spirit with our guest, Bill Murphy, whose life story exemplifies unwavering perseverance. From a tumultuous childhood to achieving success in business and athletics, Bill's narrative showcases the transformative power of unwavering determination.In this episode, we delve deep into the nexus of success and significance, exploring how adversity can pave the way for profound personal growth. Bill's candid reflections on his journey to self-worth and the role of spirituality in his redemption offer profound insights that will leave listeners both inspired and introspective.Get ready to be moved by Bill's experiences with charity and nonprofit endeavors, as he shares how personal struggles have fueled his passion for philanthropy. Through illuminating anecdotes, we witness the transformative potential of turning pain into purpose, and how embracing spirituality can lead to a life of generosity and impact.Furthermore, Bill imparts practical wisdom on cultivating a life of productivity and principles, from empowering morning rituals to habit swaps that propel us toward a legacy of greater significance. His insights challenge us to consider our own contributions to the collective tapestry of human progress, inspiring us to seek fulfillment through fostering the greater good.Join us for an episode that promises not only to uplift but to empower you to live a life enriched by the pursuit of a higher purpose.Guest Biography:Bill Murphy's journey is a testament to the power of resilience and determination. Despite enduring a toxic and abusive upbringing, Bill made the conscious choice to not just survive, but to thrive. He has since achieved remarkable success both personally and professionally.As a nationally recognized mortgage originator, Bill has dominated his industry for over 25 years, closing an impressive $1.5 billion in loans and empowering others to reach their highest potential. Beyond his professional achievements, Bill's physical feats are equally awe-inspiring—he has conquered five Boston marathons (one even on crutches), completed an ultramarathon, an Ironman, and earned a black belt in Krav Maga.Drawing from his own experiences, Bill believes that adversity can be transformed into opportunities for growth and excellence. He is passionate about helping others unlock their full potential and believes that with resilience and determination, we can all create lives of extraordinary achievement and fulfillment.Episode Chapters:(0:00:01) - Inspiring Journey(0:08:08) - Journey to Significance and Growth(0:20:33) - Impact of Giving and Spiritual Inspiration(0:26:48) - Choosing to Create, Not Victimhood(0:43:20) - Principles for Overcoming Adversity(0:50:54) - Improving Society Through Productive LivesPlease join Julie next week with your question.Thursdays at 8pm ET, 7pm CT, 5pm PT.https://askjulieryanshow.comAnd, please leave a five-star review and subscribe so you can hear all the new episodes.Sponsors & RecommendationsDisclaimer: This show is for informational purposes only. It is not intended to be medical, psychological, financial or legal advice. Please contact a licensed professional. The Ask Julie Ryan show, Julie Ryan, and all parties involved in producing, recording and distributing it assume no responsibility for listener's actions based on any information heard on this or any Ask Julie Ryan shows or podcasts.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.