Podcasts about mamma

The Out of Tune InstrumentsOn the bank of a stream, where a great many colorful little fish swam, lived a small family: mamma, babbo, and their seven children — four boys and three girls. Their house was a bit far from the town of Strumentopoli, but being close to the stream and next to the Great Forest made it a wonderful place to live.Mamma lovingly tended the vegetable garden. Babbo, on the other hand, was a woodworker who crafted musical instruments from the finest trunks, chosen among the sturdiest and most fragrant trees in the forest.The children went to school in the village. In winter, they reached it on skis, while in spring and autumn they rode in a cart pulled by two young deer — one white and one black, like the keys of a piano.Before they left, babbo counted them one by one to make sure no one was missing. Then, as he did every day, he reminded them:“Behave yourselves, don't skip school, and remember the tale of Pinocchio and his nose!”Those words always ended with a smile from everyone.Babbo would then return to his workshop. His instruments were well-made, using excellent materials, but there was one problem: they were out of tune. Still, as a good luthier, he didn't lose heart. His passion for music was so strong that teaching his children to play had become a joy. He even gave them special names: Chitarra, Violino, Oboe, Liuto, Arpa, Bongo, and Ukulele.Mamma didn't object. Of course, naming them after vegetables might have been funny, but their village friends probably would've made fun of them.The children did well in school, and when they came home, they helped mamma in the garden. One day, though, they mistook some nettle plants for lettuce — what a sting! They all ran straight to the stream and jumped in to soothe the burning.The little fish burst into laughter:“You're so silly! Ah ah ah!”Mamma helped them out of the water and, turning to the fish, said:“This evening, at sunset, there will be a concert in our courtyard. My children will perform with their instruments. You're all invited!”The fish replied enthusiastically:“Thanks for the invitation! We'll be there for sure — it's going to rain, and we love splashing! Splich, sploch, splach!”That evening turned out to be a real party. At the concert of slightly strange and delightfully quirky music, everyone had a blast: the musicians, the animals from the forest, and even the fish — who mamma cheerfully sprayed with water.After that joyful evening, life went back to its usual pace: school, garden, and even the forest. In fact, during their free time, the children often helped babbo choose and cut wood to build his instruments.The Great Forest had become familiar to them. So one day, while they were playing there and climbing trees, the kids spotted a group of gnomes huddled together, looking agitated. They quickly hid behind some bushes to observe and listen in on their conversation.The meeting, called in great haste, was to make a decision about an imminent danger. A powerful storm was on the way. They spoke of a hurricane wind that hadn't been seen or heard in a hundred years — or perhaps even longer — and it was heading for the forest.“We must stop it, by any means,” said the gnomes.So they decided to call on an old ally: the Great Warrior of the Mountain, armed with a sword and magical powers. He was the one who, in the past, had already defeated dragons and even extraterrestrials who had tried to conquer Earth.The seven children, alarmed by the news and determined to help in the battle, ran quickly back to the house — also to warn the villagers of the impending danger. Meanwhile, the wind drew closer. You could hear it from afar — wild and howling. As it passed, the trees bent until their tops brushed the ground. Some swayed, others snapped, and a few were completely uprooted.The people of Strumentopoli, who had begun to feel the wind blowing through the village streets and saw the Great Warrior descending the mountain, grew concerned — but they didn't panic. Everyone grabbed their instruments and rushed toward the house by the stream to help the family who lived there, and together try to save the Great Forest.At the same time, the colorful fish arrived — united and determined — along with the other animals of the woods and stream.“All together we can form a barrier and block the wind!” they shouted in unison.At that moment, the children of the family — still out of breath from running — stepped forward and said:“We have our babbo's instruments too. They're strange, a bit out of tune… but if we all play together, maybe we can stop the storm.” And with that, they rushed into the house and came back out in no time at all.The gnomes, fully aware of the instruments' flaws, cast a powerful musical spell. When the children began to play, something magical happened. For the first time, the music was melodious, harmonious, and full of feeling.One by one, all the people of Strumentopoli joined in. Each person, with their own instrument, contributed as if they were all part of one great orchestra.The hurricane wind — engaged in a fierce battle with the Great Warrior of the Mountain — heard the music from afar and immediately began to calm. Its howling softened, and by the time it reached the forest, it had become a cool mountain gust, and finally… a gentle valley breeze.The wind had become part of that marvelous orchestra — the battle was won thanks to everyone. Each had offered their own music and helped bring about the victory.“United we are strong,” they all said proudly.The babbo luthier continued building instruments with the finest wood the forest had to offer. They were so beautiful and sounded so good that people said they were the most melodic ever heard.The children — Chitarra, Violino, Oboe, Liuto, Arpa, Bongo, and Ukulele — joined the village band. At every festival, they played with great success, cheered on by applause and warm smiles. Even the gnomes and the Great Warrior listened to their music… from the forest and the mountain.The colorful fish swam and danced happily in the stream, and when someone passed by, they greeted them with joyful splashes.The family continued to live near the Great Forest, and on summer evenings, when everything finally grew quiet, they would lie along the stream and watch the stars above. Their hearts would tell stories… and the night would write the happy ending of every tale.

Robert är adopterad och vill inte veta vem hans biologiska mamma är. Men ett DNA-test i vuxen ålder avslöjar en väl dold hemlighet. Hon finns nära. Lyssna på alla avsnitt i Sveriges Radio Play. Har du avslöjat en familjehemlighet som förändrat ditt liv? Hör då av dig till programmet och Gunilla Nordlund så kan din berättelse bli ett nytt avsnitt av serien. Maila till familjehemligheten@sverigesradio.seProducent för serien är Ola Hemström. Programmet är gjort 2023.

Om att Karin Mamma Andersson inte får heta Mamma, att svensk teater behöver en ung revolution och att det bästa radioprogrammet just nu passar utmärkt in på ett demensboende. Lyssna på alla avsnitt i Sveriges Radio Play.

Da Eminem e 2Pac a Tormento e Fibra, in tanti hanno parlato della Mamma in maniera interessante per poi fare spazio alla banalità del “ho estinto il mutuo di mamma” di oggi. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Unni har blitt 6 mnd og Fie har blitt 5 mnd. I denne episoden snakker vi om at Sigrun har vært mamma i 5 år. Om sorgen over at nyfødt-tiden er over. Om å slutte med nattamming, om å være mamma til to, om sykdom og babyer og oppstart med fast føde.

Sportscaster and TV personality Erin Andrews continues her co-hosting stint alongside Jenna! Also, actors Sofia Vergara and Mel B stop by Studio 1A to talk about Season 20 of ‘America's Got Talent' — and stick around to play a game. Plus, comedian and chef Matteo Lane shares a recipe for pasta della mamma from his new cookbook, Your Pasta Sucks.

Im Interview: Matthias Quent, Extremismusforscher, spricht mit Gabor Steingart über die Reichsbürgerbewegung und das Verbot des „Königreich Deutschland“ durch den Innenminister.  The Pioneer Award - alle Infos hier Die CDU und der vergessene Sozialflügel.  Teuer? Börsenreporterin Anne Schwedt über die neuen US-Inflationsdaten.  Neue Karriere: Michael Jordan wird NBA-TV-Experte.  Mamma mia: Italien hat mehr Touristen als Einwohner.  An dieser Podcast-Folge haben redaktionell mitgewirkt: Stefan Lischka, Eleanor Cwik, Sophie-Marie Schulz. Produktion: Thomas Güthaus. Interviewplanung: Marc Saha.

Can you name the famous fictional MOM?

Un nuovo format: i commenti live a film o serie usciti da poco! Iniziamo con Daredevil: Born Again e Thunderbolts*, in un episodio in cui vi raccontiamo se ne siamo contenti, facciamo le nostre solite analisi e chiediamo anche l'opinione degli ascoltatori live.Imperdibile e, come sempre, pieno di spoiler!--Merchandising:http://store.polonerd.netPer sostenerci offrendoci uno o più caffèhttps://www.buymeacoffee.com/polonerdSito, Mail e Contatti:redazione@polonerd.nethttps://www.polonerd.nethttps://www.polonerd.net/contattiPagina dell'episodio: https://www.polonerd.net/?p=1691

Andrea Cerrato e la dedica alle mamme "Cara mamma". L'intervista integrale con Daniele Di Ianni.

Message from Bro. Ricky Cunningham on May 11, 2025

Bentornati Orsette e Orsetti dai mille coloriOggi è un giorno molto speciale! 

Den 24e Augusti 2024 ramlade Wilhelm Ingell med en elsparkcykel och slog huvudet i trottoarkanten. Bästa vännen David som var med fick snabbt börja utföra HLR samtidigt som han pratade med SOS. Den 26e Augusti, bara två dagar senare dödförklaras Wilhelm och hans mamma Lena håller handen på sonens hjärta tills det stannar, efter att man slagit av respiratorn. I det här avsnittet berättar både Wilhelms mamma Lena, och hans bästa vän David, om hela händelsen.  

Off Cattive Ragazze è il format breve di TikTok per il podcast, solo il primo venerdì del mese.Anche voi avete notato questi punti in comune tra le due serie tv? Vi sembra ce ne siano altri? Fatemi sapere che cosa ne pensate dell'episodio qui nel box domande oppure nei DMs su TikTok.Account ufficiale TikTok: ⁠unamammaperamicapodcast

Alessia celebra il 100esimo episodio di Japan Wildlife parlando di manga, anime e Giappone con i giovani utenti della Biblioteca dei Ragazzi di Treviso. Qui sono state raccolte le domande e le curiosità dei lettori che la frequentano e già prendono in prestito i manga messi a disposizione, ma anche di chi invece non li conosce così bene e vorrebbe approcciarli in modo positivo e proattivo. Insegnanti, genitori, bibliotecari e librai devono ancora capire, rispetto al pubblico più giovane, che il manga può essere uno strumento educativo e formativo, oltre che un oggetto libro di valore e questo episodio fornisce delle basi da cui partire per capirne il linguaggio, i contenuti e le potenzialità.Episodi citati e consigliati sui mangaJapan Wildlife ha ore e ore già dedicate al manga e in particolare alla loro creazione, insieme ad altri episodi specifici su registi d'animazione Letture “tecniche” consigliate* Scott McCloud - Capire, fare e reinventare il fumetto* Jean Marie Bouissou - Il Manga* Matt Alt - POP ポップ* Ludovica Morrone - Shōjo Bunka, la cui autrice è ospitata nell'episodio #99* Marco Pellitteri - I manga, introduzione al fumetto giapponese. Anche il professore è stato ospite nell'episodio #92 per parlare del libro OTAKU di Hiroki Azuma* I libri della collana di Moscabianca Fushigi: IL PIÙ FORTE DEL MONDO. La filosofia di Dragon Ball di Claudio Kulesko e IL MAESTRO DELL'ORRORE. Nella mente di Junji Itō di Gioele Cima, rispettivamente ospiti dell'episodio #80 e episodio #87 di Japan Wildlife* Genere e Giappone. Femminismi e queerness negli anime e nei manga, raccolta di saggi di Asterisco Edizioni e curata da Giorgia Sallusti, presente nell'episodio #89Autobiografie mangaka:* Hideo Kazuma - Il diario della mia scomparsa* Keiko Takemiya - Il suo nome era Gilbert * Kabi Nagata - La mia prima volta e gli altri volumi autoconclusivi * Akiko Higashimura - Disegna!* Masahiko Matsumoto - I fanatici del gekiga* Keiko Ichiguchi - Mangaka. La vera storia di una fumettista giapponese in Italia e Mamma questa è l'ItaliaJapan Wildlife è su Substack! Iscriviti alla newsletter per non perderti i prossimi episodi e aggiornamenti.Se vuoi sostenere Japan Wildlife, puoi anche lasciare una donazione su Ko-FiI nostri sponsor:Dirim: https://www.dirim.it/Granduomo: https://www.granduomocatania.it/Sinfonia del Gusto: https://www.sinfoniadelgustoroma.it/ This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit japanwildlife.substack.com

Det blir mycket skitsnack idag, men det tycker jag är trevligt (Emil här). Det blir också musikår-quiz, pyramider, vindkraftverk, smaker och Mexikanskt maffiasnack. Mycket nöje, som vanligt.

Kon har vandrat från dyrkat gudaväsen till hornlös mjölkmaskin och metanrapande klimatbov. Ann-Helen Meyer von Bremen följer hennes väg in i fabriken. Lyssna på alla avsnitt i Sveriges Radio Play. ESSÄ: Detta är en text där skribenten reflekterar över ett ämne eller ett verk. Åsikter som uttrycks är skribentens egna. I begynnelsen var kon. Audhumbla gav di åt jätten Ymer och slickade rimfrosten från stenarna och skapade på det viset Bure, han som blev gudarnas förfader i den nordiska gudasagan.I begynnelsen var kon, inte bara i den nordiska mytologin utan även i många andra skapelseberättelser och religioner. Den egyptiska Hathor, återfödelsens gudinna, födde varje morgon fram solen och bar den mellan sina horn. Israeliterna lät döda 3 000 av sitt eget folk för att de dansade runt guldkalven, en symbol för guden Baal och stark konkurrent till Jahve. Hinduismen har flera gudomliga nötkreatur. Tjurguden Nandi har stark koppling till Shiva och Nandi bär också de döda hinduernas själar i Vietnam, till Indien. Kogudinnan Surabhi, mor till alla kor, skapas när gudar och demoner kärnar det kosmiska mjölkhavet. Hela Vintergatan är för övrigt skapat av komjölk, när Krishna och mjölkerskornas gudinna Radha, råkade spilla ut drycken över hela himlen. I den grekiska mytologin är det istället gudinnan Heras mjölk som ger upphov till Vintergatan, eller Milchstrasse, Milky Way, Voie lactée eller Melkeveien som det heter på andra språk.Hur kommer det sig då att detta djur som inte bara i religioner utan också i människors vardagsliv så starkt har förknippats med skapelse, liv och fruktsamhet, i dag ses som ett hot mot vår existens? Eller rättare sagt, hennes rapar?Den ko som är den vanliga i Sverige, Bos taurus, härstammar från uroxen som var en imponerande bjässe. De största tjurarna hade en mankhöjd på två meter, kunde väga över ett ton, hade väldiga horn och ansågs vildsinta. Julius Caesar menade att de inte gick att tämja ens som kalvar. Så varför ge sig i kast med dessa farliga djur? Människan hade redan tämjt geten och fåret och det fanns gott om vilda djur där boskapsskötarna etablerade sig.En teori är att det inte var mjölken eller köttet utan rituella skäl bakom domesticeringen. De stora hornen sågs som symboler för himlakroppar som månen, med koppling till fertilitet. Kon blev också snabbt en statusmarkör och symbol för kapital. Ordet fä för boskap betydde ursprungligen egendom och latinets, pecunia, pengar, kommer från pecus, boskap. Fortfarande är rollen som flyttbart kapital, bytesmedel och status, den viktigaste rollen för kor i många boskapskulturer.Under lång tid sågs kon som något mycket värdefullt - religiöst, ekonomiskt men också som sällskap. Det finns många skildringar i litteraturen och filmen över den nära relationen mellan kon och människan. I novellen ”Skiljas från sin vän” skildrar lappmarksläkaren och författaren Einar Wallquist detta när han skriver om Mor Katrin som blivit gammal, sjuk och övertalats att skicka kon på slakt. Men det är inget lätt beslut. ”Kossan var hennes enda sällskap, hennes riktiga vän, som hon kunde få prata med så mycket hon ville i sin ensamhet och som hon mötte tillgivenhet av.”Efter nattens sömn ändrar hon sig dock och bestämmer sig för att säga nej till slaktaren: ”Ty det skulle han veta, att ömhet och sällskap och en ko, det säljer man inte!”I Sverige brukar det heta att malmen och skogen har spelat en stor roll för framväxten av det moderna Sverige, men man skulle också kunna nämna kon. Det var runt henne och hennes mjölk, kött, kalvar, gödsel, hud och dragkraft som det mesta kretsade inom lantbruket. Det var försäljningen av hennes smör och ost som gjorde det möjligt för lanthushållen att skaffa de saker som man behövde. Kon står också i centrum när Sverige anammar de nya jordbruksmetoderna från Europa under 1800-talet. Då börjar man bland annat att odla vall (en blandning av gräs och kvävefixerande grödor som klöver) på åkrarna. Det här gav inte bara mer mat till fler kor utan även till fler människor och fler händer kunde sättas i arbete, vilket var en förutsättning för industrialiseringen.Samtidigt som jordbruket börjar kommersialiseras under 1800-talet, växer statarsamhället fram. Herrgårdarna specialiserar sig på mjölkproduktionen som kräver mer arbetskraft och billig sådan. Statarna jobbar hårt och länge, bor i eländiga bostäder och får sin lön främst i form av stat, det vill säga i form av mat från gården. För statarfruarna innebär makens anställning ett extra gissel.”I stället för att hälsas med tillfredsställelse som en extra inkomstkälla har statarhustruns mjölkningsplikt nästan kommit att bli statsystemets värsta plågoris, dess vita piska”.Ivar Lo-Johansson beskriver träffande vad som har hänt. Mjölkningen som tidigare var något positivt, har blivit en plåga. Det vi ser, är början på den industrialiserade lagården.Om kvinnan var slaven i herrgårdarnas mjölkgårdar har kon alltmer axlat den rollen. Descartes syn på djuren som maskiner, har nu blivit verklighet i många av världens mjölkfabriker. De bönder som fortfarande spjärnar emot denna utveckling, ses som bakåtsträvande idealister. Dagens industrialiserade mjölkko är omgärdad av maskiner. Hon matas och mjölkas av maskiner, maskiner tar hand om hennes gödsel, mäter när hon är brunstig och reglerar hur mycket hon ska äta och mjölka. Bonden blir allt mer frånvarande. Hen sitter i sitt kontor och studerar all info från maskinerna. Att gå utomhus och beta, som är det mest essentiella för en ko, anses hon heller inte längre behöva eller klara av. Dyra maskiner vill man helst inte ta ut ur garaget.Problemet med maskiner är att de ger ifrån sig utsläpp. I kornas fall handlar det främst om växthusgasen metan. De har alltid rapat metan, precis som älgarna, rådjuren, hjortarna och de andra vilda idisslarna, men till skillnad från viltet räknas numera metanet från de tama idisslarna som antropogena utsläpp, påverkade av människan. Men även viltet regleras av människan, i form av jakt, skogsbruk, lantbruk, trafik, naturvård och byggande av infrastruktur och bostäder. Mänsklig påverkan har fått viltet att kraftigt öka, jämfört med mitten av 1800-talet då många djur var mer eller mindre utrotade. Ändå gäller inte samma måttstock för dem som för tamdjuren, trots att antalet kor, får och getter har minskat radikalt under samma period.Anledningen är kanske att vi ser viltet om en del av naturen, medan kon är mer en kugge i mjölk- och köttmaskineriet? Därmed viktas hennes metan lika tungt som metanet från utvinningen av fossila bränslen. Lösningen på problemet är lika industriell den, en kemikalieblandning som ska minska kons metanavgång genom att förändra hennes matsmältning.Människan tämjde uroxen för dess gudomliga horn. I dag har människan gjort de flesta kor hornlösa, genom avel eller genom att bränna bort hornanlagen hos kalven, allt för att passa in i matfabriken. Vi verkar inte behöva några gudar längre, kanske inte ens några kor. Men däremot en aldrig sinande ström av maskiner.Ann-Helen Meyer von Bremen, journalist, författare och deltidsbonde. Tillsammans med Gunnar Rundgren författare till boken ”Kornas planet” (2020).Essän producerades av Ann Lingebrandt

Jarna Peres son fick diagnosen lindrig intellektuell funktionsnedsättning (IF) för ett år sen. Han var då 15 år och sedan dess har mycket förändrats till det bättre. Hur det kan vara att som förälder få diagnos på sitt barn pratar vi om tillsammans med Maria Forsström, kurator och psykoterapeut, som stöttar föräldrar att hitta vägar framåt.

Vi pratar bl.a. om Silksong-museet i Adelaide, nya priserna på XBOX, EA:s Titanfall-slakt, Fallouts förlorade källkod, Split Fiction, Kingdom Come Deliverance 2, Blue Prince, Bionic Bay, Assassins Creed Shadows & Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Stötta oss på Patreon! För 50kr i månaden får du tillgång till podden oklippt & reklamfri direkt när den har spelats in och dessutom tillgång till allt tidigare exklusivt content samt allt material under jul och sommarledigheter. Som Patron stöttar du oss även i vårt nya initiativ "Homo Ludens" där vi intervjuar intressanta personer om deras förhållande till TV-Spel. Du får dessa avsnitt tidigare och reklamfria. För 100kr i månaden får du allt som 50kr-patrons får men du får också första tjing på alla eventuella koder & gratisgrejer som vi ibland erbjuder! Du är dessutom lite bättre än alla andra. www.patreon.com/kontrollbehov Besök vår Youtube-kanal och prenumerera: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UClQ2sTbiCcR0dqNFHwcTB0g Gå med i gruppen Kontrollbehov - Eftersnack på Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1104625369694949/?ref=bookmarks Vi finns också på Discord! https://discord.gg/848F6TWXDY Hör av er: kontrollbehovpodcast@gmail.com

Varje år insjuknar fler än 20 000 personer i Sverige i en demenssjukdom – en diagnos som påverkar fler än den som blir sjuk. För närstående kan demenssjukdom vara utmanande. Men det finns råd som underlättar. Liselotte Björk, ordförande för Demensförbundet, ger sina bästa tips. Programledare: Yael Seligsohn Producent: Elin Roumeliotou Ljudlägging: Blenda Setterwall Klingert Redaktör: Moa Larsson Mix: Timmie Strandberg Lyssna på hela avsnittet? Bli prenumerant på svd.se/hackalivet Vi vill gärna ha feedback och önskemål! Kontakta oss på: hackalivet@svd.se

Varje år insjuknar fler än 20 000 personer i Sverige i en demenssjukdom – en diagnos som påverkar fler än den som blir sjuk. För närstående kan demenssjukdom vara utmanande. Men det finns råd som underlättar. Liselotte Björk, ordförande för Demensförbundet, ger sina bästa tips. Programledare: Yael Seligsohn Producent: Elin Roumeliotou Ljudlägging: Blenda Setterwall Klingert Redaktör: Moa Larsson Mix: Timmie Strandberg Lyssna på hela avsnittet? Bli prenumerant på svd.se/hackalivet Vi vill gärna ha feedback och önskemål! Kontakta oss på: hackalivet@svd.se

Get MORE Coaches Don't Play at our patreon!Thank you to our Sponsors: Training Day Cafe, Umbrella Skin LabTraining Day Cafe⁠: Mention the pod for exclusive welcome pack!Umbrella Skin Lab: Mention the pod for 25% off laser treatment (conditions apply) --> BOOK HERE⁠⁠⁠⁠Follow Gurk ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Desi Dontdoze Playlist⁠⁠⁠Producer/Audio Engineer ⁠⁠⁠Kyle Bhawan⁠⁠⁠Song "Be Like That" by⁠ ⁠⁠REVAY ⁠⁠⁠⁠-------------------------------00:00 Elections06:05 Canada in 204012:30 Bob and Pierre 16:50 Lapu Lapu Festival 19:30 100 Men v 1 Gorilla 24:20 Shindo Budget 33:30 Paying BF's mortgage 38:10 Business & pleasure 46:00 Abusive cousin  49:00 Mamma's Boy 54:20 Past betrayal 59:30 snapchat cheating 

Hello dere! Når dere hører denne episoden, er jeg i Tyskland og heier på søss som løper maraton! Med både påskeferie og lite tid før avreise, rakk jeg ikke spille inn noe nytt, men så kom jeg på at jeg aldri fikk postet del 2 av episoden med mamma fra morsdag! Del 1 ligger allerede ute, og her kommer endelig fortsettelsen. Full av små visdomsord, meninger og latter- håper dere koser dere like mye med å høre på som jeg gjorde da vi spilte den inn. Ha en nydelig uke!FØLG MEG:Instagram: @GirlshotlineTikTok: @Girls.hotline Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Beskedet kommer efter interna avgångskrav, enligt källa till Kvartal. Mamma och barn allvarligt skadade i nattens sprängdåd i Tumba. Så vill utredaren få bort våld och stök från svenska fotbollsarenor. Donald Trump gav oväntad skjuts till Kanadas liberala parti. Programledare: Jörgen Huitfeldt.

Hai mai sentito parlare di chi svuotò il mare… per un pizzico di sale?Dalle isole Fiji, una fiaba antica ci racconta di una vecchina, una zucca vuota e un incontro magico con l'oceano.

Vi svarer på spørsmål sammen med mamma

Benvenuti all'ep.40 del PoretCast! L'ospite di oggi è Federico Buffa, giornalista, narratore, affabulatore – una delle voci più iconiche del racconto sportivo italiano. Con Giacomo Poretti si parla di teatro, NBA, Platone e pallone, soprannomi impossibili, Jordan e frasi leggendarie come “Mamma, butta la pasta!”. Ma anche della forza delle storie, del valore dello sport e della memoria. Un viaggio nel tempo, nello sport, nella parola. Un prodotto Corax. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

1/ JUICY BAE. Bitch. feat Hoke.2/ Lil Baby. In A Minute. 3/ Pharrell Williams. Cash In Cash Out. ft. 21 Savage, Tyler The Creator.4/ DREAMVILLE. Ma boy. feat Lute y JID.5/ ABHIR HATHI. Lazos y Nudos. 6/ LÍA KALI. Parásitos.7/ GASPAR. Ferrari. 8/ SIR. Air Down. feat Kendrick Lamar. 9/ JIDENNA. Tribe. 10/ PEPE VIZIO. Me bendijo.11/ SUKO. Yeezy3.12/ KALI NINMAH. Bless.13/ ANTONY Z. Cuando me duermo.14/ CARDI B. Wap.15/ Busta Rhymes, Vybz Kartel. The Don & The Boss.16/ Lil Wayne. Mamma mia.17/ DJ KHALED. It’s secure. feat NAS, TRAVIS SCOTT. Escuchar audio

I veckans Livsrådet svarar vi på en fråga från en självutnämnd introvert lyssnare som blir obekväm när hennes barn är hon sina kompisar och det är, för lyssnaren okända, andra vuxna där. Gör hon rätt i att oroa sig eller är hon bara överbeskyddande? Vi har svaret!  Stötta oss på Patreon för regelbundna bonusavsnitt + mer! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Ett nytt avsnitt av Barnet Går! Denna veckas gästas vi av Louise Lundberg: digital strategi, illustratör och mamma. Louise berättar om hur det är att vara två-barns-mamma, om vad som varit det roligaste mot det mest utmanande? Vi pratar även om hur man tacklar när barnet blir lite större och man vill hjälpa utan att ta över för mycket och lägga sina känslor och värderingar i hur barnet ska må, känna och göra.Louise Instagram hittar du här: @loulundberg_ ( https://www.instagram.com/loulundberg_/ )Programledare är Nina Campioni.Support till showen http://supporter.acast.com/vattnetgar. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Tisdag! Det blir Cypress Hill, det blir skägg, det blir tyskt, det blir HR. Har du ett skvaller som fler borde få höra? Maila det till kafferepetpod@gmail.comMissa inte vår månatliga systerpodd Cigarrummet. Bli prenumerant på www.underproduktion.se/cigarrummet3:09 - Fel hus, fel barn11:37 - Mamma och barnet i Tyskland14:45 - Ny på jobbet Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Nu behöver de döda inte försvinna från oss. Vi kan köpa digitala kopior av nära och kära så att vi kan fortsätta umgås med dem. Vill vi det och vad händer med sorgen? Lyssna på alla avsnitt i Sveriges Radio Play. Ett omtalat exempel på att återskapa avlidna finns i den sydkoreanska dokumentären Meeting you från 2020, där en död flicka återskapas digitalt så att hennes mamma ska få träffa henne en sista gång. Mamman får på sig ett par VR-glasögon och flickan kommer springande mot henne och ropar: Mamma, var har du varit? Idag lever vi med minnen av våra döda genom foton, brev, ärvda möbler och besök vid deras gravar. Kommer den nya tekniken innebära en stor förändring för vårt sätt att relatera till de döda och till döden? Blir AI-kopian ett slags liv? Det finns en växande industri som utvecklar chatbottar och avatarer av döda personer. Kan framtiden innebära en värld som domineras av de döda? Vilka moraliska frågor väcker den nya tekniken?Medverkande: Amanda Lagerkvist, professor i medie- och kommunikationsvetenskap vid Uppsala universitet, Amir Haj-Bolouri, professor i informatik vid Högskolan Väst, Johan Brännmark, docent i filosofi vid Stockholms universitet.Programledare: Cecilia Strömberg WallinProducent: Marie LiljedahlVeckans tips:Böcker:Utandning - Ted ChiangVisible and the invisible - Maurice Merleau-PontyThe End of Man - A Feminist Counterapocalypse - Johanna Zylinska

Nikki's given Italy's new naming laws the thumbs up, Luttsy's nuffing out over Athletics and Ash's is about introduce his son to pirate lifeSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Ansa - di Veronica Andrea Sauchelli.Nei giorni scorsi la Corte di Cassazione ha dato ragione ad una coppia di mamme che ha portato in tribunale il decreto dell'ex Ministro dell'Interno Matteo Salvini, secondo cui sulla carta d'identità dei minori le uniche diciture ammesse fossero “padre” e “madre”, facendo fare all'Italia un passo indietro sull'utilizzo del termine più inclusivo di “genitore”. 

Agradece a este podcast tantas horas de entretenimiento y disfruta de episodios exclusivos como éste. ¡Apóyale en iVoox! Matraqueo melódico en esta nueva sesión. ¡A por ella! Nuevos: Shiraz Lane, Giant, H.E.A.T, Jimmi Barnes, BT-84, Streetlight, W.E.T Clásicos: Kuni, Jerusalem Slim, Talisman, Mamma's Boys, Wild Rose, Push, Toto La semana que viene, Classic Diamonds 1354Escucha este episodio completo y accede a todo el contenido exclusivo de AOR Diamonds. Descubre antes que nadie los nuevos episodios, y participa en la comunidad exclusiva de oyentes en https://go.ivoox.com/sq/75094

Quando una mano cerca di scoprire l'uomo, chi scopre davvero? C'è una storia che si perde nel tempo, tra nuvole fitte e previsioni incerte. Parla di un viaggio, di una discesa sulla terra e di un segreto mai svelato.Lo Straniero di Rainer Maria Rilke è un racconto che sfiora il divino, il destino e il mistero dell'essere umano.Fiabe in Carrozza è un progetto indipendenteProdotto e curato da Filippo CarrozzoIllustrazioni e grafica: Alice BarbàraEtà: 6+(Suggerita anche per lettura ad alta voce con i più piccoli, accompagnati da un adulto.)Hai una storia che ti sta a cuore e vuoi raccontarcela? Credi nella bellezza del progetto e vuoi aiutarci sostenendolo? Hai domande, pensieri o un semplice saluto?Scrivici a fiabeincarrozza@gmail.comoppure visita www.mentesauri.it per scoprire il progetto e ascoltare tanti altri podcast.

Rosalba Gustin, arrivata in Australia bambina, nel 1956, ci ha raccontato la sua storia e quella dei suoi genitori, tra le prime voci della radio italiana in Australia.

In questa puntata speciale, finalmente riunisco Mario Baluci (TikTok e Instagram) e Francesco Graziani per un confronto diretto sui temi più caldi del mondo tech! Tra ecosistemi a confronto, filosofie d'uso opposte e riflessioni sull'intelligenza artificiale, scopriamo le differenze tra Google Foto e iCloud Photo Library, discutiamo dell'utilità delle app vs il browser, e analizziamo come Gemini e Apple Intelligence stiano cambiando il nostro rapporto con la tecnologia. Un episodio ricco di spunti, battute e qualche dissing amichevole tra due voci storiche della divulgazione tecnologica italiana.Scopri le date della prossima WWDC Visita Digiteee e scopri tutte le notizie sulla tecnologiaSegui Digiteee su TikTokDimmi la tua su Twitter, su Threads, su Telegram, su Mastodon, su BlueSky o su Instagram.Mail jacoporeale@yahoo.it Scopri dove ascoltare il podcast e lascia una recensione su Apple Podcast o Spotify.Ascolta An iPad guy su YouTube Podcast.Supporta il podcast

A Butterfly wants to kill the World?Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.Although Love is both fire and shadow, we often forget to take comfort from the coolness of the memories when the burning flames are absentThere were precisely two things, okay, four things, keeping me alive. The fourth thing would come to her later when her 'furious was replaced by her 'curious' ~ as in how I knew her inhuman lingo ~ which would lead to my legacy with Grandpa.The top three reasons -She had poked my chest. It was a challenge, calling for one of my guardians to come out and play. The avatar knew I was the chosen heir of the Goddess Ishara and my goddess had devoted a good deal of time and effort to my survival and continued service in her cause. If Ishara made an 'appearance', it would be enough reason to not eviscerate me for my foul treatment of her august personage.Nope. It seemed Ishara was busy at the moment.Still, she most likely knew SzelAnya had shown a keen interest in me in Romania, though I'd never told Selena, or any other member of the 9 Clans, the Dragon's Daughter had killed Ajax for me. Figuring out SzelAnya, a storm deity, had helped me and Aya escape from our kidnapping in the midst of a cyclone in the Pacific Ocean wasn't much of a reach.But no bolt of lightning coalesced from my chest to singe her finger. No clap of thunder. Not even a cloud with a hint of disfavor appeared above us.Her obsidian fingernail began penetrating my shirt, touched my skin, then drew my blood, and something 'twitched'.That would be Contestant Goddess #3. She wasn't actually hanging around me. She didn't have to. She'd left me a memento of our last shindig before we parted ways. That was the nightmare-inducing episode where she, the chthonic goddess Sarrat Irkalli, had compressed one man's body into a dagger and then proceeded to suck another's soul into it to use as a power source for an Airbus 350 (a commercial airliner, if you didn't know).I still had that snaggletooth-looking thing at my back. Well who the Hell was I going to leave it with? Honestly, the only people I felt could keep it safe I loved too much to curse with it. Anyway, the second her divine claw touched my blood, the long dormant weapon whispered to me in a somewhat bored, lofty feminine voice from beyond the grave,Do you want me to discorporate this pathetic has-been for you?Quick check. Only the avatar and I, and her priestess-savant heard that. Of course, in downtown, New York City, noon Sunday, how weird would such a declaration be? The avatar's eyebrow arched. Her big bat-ears (still looking human to the normal viewing public) flicked this way and that, figuring out precisely where the threat originated from. Slowly, her once poking hand began to slide across my chest, along my ribs and around my back.She touched the dagger. Nothing.Gingerly, she drew it forth. I'd had a makeshift sheath made. As the blade made its journey around me, she took a half-step back to better observe it."Please don't kill him!" Theddy squealed. "We haven't had sex yet!"Being 'who' and 'what' she was, the avatar did what came natural. Fortunately for Theddy, I'd become accustomed to working with psychopaths.She stabbed the dagger at Theddy. I clamped my hand down on her wrist. The claws of her left hand came down on my constraining wrist. My free hand came down on that hand, trying to pry it free. It was a hopeless struggle, except.Yes, my old friend 'except'. Except the avatar was holding the dagger. As powerful as Ītzpāpālōtl was, she wasn't pushing against me. She was pushing against Sarrat Irkalli.Ītzpāpālōtl was a living, breathing terror machine who killed and received sacrifices on a regular basis.Sarrat Irkalli hadn't been actively worshipped in 3,000 years.Uneven contest? Oh yeah.See, Ītzpāpālōtl had spent the past 500 years continuously fighting against the Weave to keep her fingers on this side of reality.Meanwhile, for the most part, Sarrat Irkalli had sat upon her throne in the Sumerian Underworld with hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of souls toiling under her watchful gaze for eternity. Sure, her version of Hell wasn't getting any fresh deposits, but she knew how to milk the system well.Even the bad karma for the dagger's creation wasn't hers. She'd stolen it from the foolish Gong Tau sorcerers who had meant to enslave my soul, aka one-third of the Baraqu-Alal-Cáel deal she'd worked out millennia ago. It was the Weave giving her a 'freebie' for playing by the rules, if you considered the Weave sentient.And now Ītzpāpālōtl was touching it. Whoops. It wasn't as if Ītzpāpālōtl was stupid. It isn't like there are tons of magic weapons running around, much less soul-munchers like the one I had. Rationally, who would give a novice like me, a weapon like this? I say again, 'whoops'.Once I'd figured this out, I couldn't stop being me."Theddy, do you like girls?""What?" she squeaked. Here was this psycho trying to drive a Smilodon incisor into her bosom and I was giving her a sex quiz.Ītzpāpālōtl was really starting to struggle now."I, ah, are you okay?" she continued."Oh, I'm dandy. I'm serious. You think this chick is hot? I mean, would you do her in a three-way?" I proposed casually."Timothy?" Sovann."Bro?" Timothy to me."It's all good. Sovann, you want to know what my life is like? This lady who came to discuss business with me today is an immortal mass murderer. You give the word, I'll let go and this knife is going to cut her up like a Ginsu blade on market day because just cutting her heart out isn't going to be enough. Worse. Eventually she'll get back up.""Timothy?" Sovann repeated, this time with more concern. He thought I was nuts. I released my left hand. The blade flipped up, twisting in the avatar's grasp. That was the point her minions figured out something was wrong."El Amado?" the priestess-savant called out softly. The three goons began reaching for 'things'."Call them off, or I open my other hand," I cautioned the avatar. She spared me a swift, hostile look. My fingers tingled."Esten quietos!" she snapped. They stopped."Cáel, bad day, or not. This isn't you. Stop it. The girl's in danger," Timothy spoke up. He didn't mean Theddy. He meant the avatar."I'm being a real asshole, aren't I?" I sighed."Pretty much. You never let the bitches get to you before. Girl pops an attitude, you smile and move on. Life is too short," he reminded me. Too true."I'm going to put my hand over the blade," I told Ītzpāpālōtl. "When I do, you can let go."She didn't say anything for several seconds, even after my left hand covered the semi-serrated edge."Why should I trust you?" she sizzled."Because 'me' letting anything bad happen to you would make me a total, judgmental jerk. I don't know you. Whatever you did before you showed up today shouldn't matter to me. I acted stupidly. I should have stopped you. I didn't. I didn't even warn you and I could have. I was angry, and not even at you. Just angry and I apologize. Now, let go.""Why?""Hi. I'm Cáel Nyilas. Can I have my knife back? Please?"Blink. She released it. For a millisecond, it wanted to do something else because bitches are bitches. It didn't, so my palm wasn't sliced open. My right hand took the hilt. I carefully put the blade away."Yes," Theddy gulped."Huh?" Sovann shook his head at the sudden evaporation of the life and death tension. Welcome to my life. Theddy meant 'yes' to the 'girl-girl-guy' thing I had proposed earlier. It pays to keep things prioritized."What is this movie you were talking about?" Ītzpāpālōtl asked. Had she forgiven me for anything which had transpired? Bwahahaha, no way. She was taking the initiative and going with Option 1 from my earlier insane diatribe."Wait!" Sovann nearly shouted. "You nearly, I don't know, threatened Cáel's life and tried to stab Theddy and now you think you can go with us to a movie?""I told you," Timothy put an arm around his shoulder, "life with Cáel is rarely dull.""I thought you meant he was fun to party with, or something like that," Sovann looked up at his lover. "I thought his uncle showing up, and trying to kill him and then being blown the fuck away by those women and federal agents, and that other girl who pointed a gun at us, is this the new normal?""I love you, Sovann," Timothy grew compassionate. "Cáel is my best friend. He'd never deliberately hurt either of us and normal friends are something he has in short supply. Today being a great case in point."Ten seconds passed."The title is 'As Above, So Below'," Sovann addressed the avatar, "and what do we call you?"Since 'if you are not a worshiper and addressing me, I normally am about to kill you' would sound really cool in Olmec-ic, but I might be asked to translate,"How about we go with 'Obsidian', please?" I pleaded with her.She knew I was currying favor now ~ and behaving like a weather vane caught in the wall of a tornado ~ she gave a gracious bow of her head."Obsidian will do for now. Is the Legend of the dagger 'business'?" Translation: it had better not be."No," I smiled. "It's pillow talk." Rancor, 'how presumptuous', followed by 'but that dagger ups the count to three Goddess interested in him', and next to recalling all the trivial babble about me being a sexual dynamo (I prayed my PR was that good) having some relevance. Her chimera emotions allowed me to get a few more crucial words out, because even women who aren't sleeping with me are jealous."Esta mujer fue la primera en ofrecer bienes funerarios tras la muerte dee mi padre," I reinserted Theddy back into my close company. For some reason, Obsidian considered me unreliable thus had to verify what I'd just said."Did you make funerary offering upon his father's passing?" she asked Theddy. Let's think about this. The wacko chick questioning Theddy had tried to stab a huge freaking blade into her not a minute ago. Fleeing in terror while screaming for the cops? Nope."Yes. I baked him some walnut and caramel chip cookies," she nodded. "It is a family recipe." Sovann looked over the three of us, then back to Timothy."I told you 'that's impressive cocking like I've never seen before'," he explained."She may remain," Obsidian 'permitted'. Theddy wrapped up my right arm with her left and gave it a squeeze. She wanted attention/explanation."Obsidian is a Master Vampire, Theddy," I leaned in and whispered. "Before she was turned, she was captured in a raid by the fey, mentally, spiritually and physically raped and made into their sex-slave. Part of her spirit never healed properly. While this imperfection allows her to walk around in daylight, her heart can never hold on to any emotion for long, so she is forced to forever seek passion, no matter how dangerous, from the world around her."Revealing secrets? Ha. I had noticed Theddy had every work done by Laurel K. Hamilton in her place, including the comic book series."You are not supposed to know, so act like I didn't tell you anything, okay?"'Okay,' she mouthed back at me. I could see it in her eyes. My chaotic life suddenly 'made sense' to her because a best-selling fiction author said so.Obsidian thought the movie was; hilarious. She couldn't stop snickering, giggling and poking at me as horrible shit happened to the various actors. She thought the plot was 'insightful' and wouldn't stop whispering to me throughout the entire thing. During the closing credits, I told her I'd get her the DVD for Christmas ~ she knew the concept behind digital technology, but didn't own any ~ she kissed me.The first kiss was fierce and joyous with the added benefit of her tongue doing things no normal tongue could do, it stretched. Not sure how I felt about that. The second kiss was more sultry, longer and came with some accompanying body action which, I'm no virgin. Not even close. She was on my left side, so when she twisted in her seat, her left leg insinuated itself between mine. Her left hand cupped my jaw and held my head in place as her lips played along mine.A dance of the scorpion perhaps? Tender at first, then suddenly stabbing, dominant and brutal. My lips and tongue battled back, using my superior Kiss-fu to nullify her natural strength and agility. She liked it. By her moaning, she liked it a lot. As the kiss progressed, more and more of her flowed from her seat into my seat, body facing me. Her body rose over mine, forcing my neck back to maintain contact."So, Dot Ishara is hovering around somewhere close, isn't she?" I murmured as our lips separated barely a centimeter apart. One chick kissing you to make another one jealous. It's happened to me plenty of times. Obsidian didn't give a damn about Theddy, or any other mortal woman in close proximity so,"Yes," she purred. "Do you mate with her?""A man does not brag of such things, but no, unless heavy petting counts?""What will she do to you when I steal your seed?"'When'? Why was I not surprised? Why was I not surprised another concussion was in my immediate future either? Was it possible I was, learning?"Chastise me for not fighting harder," I breathed across her lips, "and, in case you forgot, I'm on a date with the girl beside me.""Who I care nothing for," she sent a cruelly playful look Theddy's way. Wisely, the girl shivered."Who I am indebted to and how I honor my debts might matter to you," I hazarded. My words hurt Theddy's feelings. That was on purpose. Obsidian took pleasure in me hurting Theddy because she was basically a vicious monster."Yes?" I pressed her gently."Yes," Obsidian allowed, easing up slightly both romantically and physically."And Theddy, if you believe I'm with you solely because of some sense of obligation, you clearly haven't been listening to your recordings," I shot the human girl a wink."Oh.""Am I, or am I not, a sex-obsessed little monkey?" I teased her. Theddy giggled. I paid for my diversion with four obsidian claws to my ribs outside of Theddy's view. After all, it wasn't like Theddy could possibly compete with her for my attention. Considering Obsidian's legendary ability to rip open her opponent's ribcages and feast upon their hearts, I slipped my left hand, the one next to her between her legs and stroked her cotton-slacks covered cunt.Theddy hugged my right arm and put her head against my shoulder. Not to be outdone," Qu  un centenar dee hombres se quemaron vivos como el sonido?" Obsidian inquired with sexually sadistic hunger. Ah, memories of burning 7P Commandos.Whoops. Theddy knew Spanish."No lo s . Ten an respiradores en," I replied casually. "Si lo desea, puedo describir lo que se siente al tirar de una flecha de guerra lanzar mi propio muslo.""Eep," slipped out of Theddy's lips."Why did you do that?" Obsidian looked over us both."Well, I was showing a little girl I believed in her,""And she shot you?" Theddy gulped."No. She hit the target I was standing next to. A co-worker mistook me for a cardboard cutout of a Jehovah's Witness and let fly. Seems she had issues with organized religion as well as a reaction to the oscillation effect of florescent lighting and ceiling fans.""But why did you pull the arrow out?" Theddy asked. "Couldn't you wait until you got to the hospital?""Mosquito," Obsidian menaced, insinuating Theddy was a pest."I wasn't thinking rationally at the moment, I work in an asylum, I had a hot date in a few hours, any of those three will do," I smiled at Theddy."Copil such as Cáel don't bother with petty human conventions," Obsidian turned my gaze back her way with her hand on my jaw. 'Copil's were 'god-touched' in her lingo."More than one girl?" Theddy mused."Four.""Okay," she sighed happily."Theddy, three under-age girls and the police office he was dating acting as their chaperone," Timothy intervened. "He hurried home so he could keep a promise to the children, not for sex." Bastard. He really was my best friend. He didn't mention my post-injury, pre-festivity sex with Odette giving me a few extra, urgently needed Brownie Points to suggest I might be a decent human being."You are a wonderful guy," Theddy ran a fingernail over my free hand. Clearly I was 'wonderful' enough to risk Obsidian's anger over. The screen went blank as the last credits scrolled away and the room was plunged into darkness. Five seconds later, the lights snapped on.Pain!"Fuck," I hissed. It wasn't any extra physical trauma causing me discomfort. No, a metaphysical dam had burst within and my stream of conscious thought had been turned into a white-water rapids. The competing cyclones of thoughts in my mind had stopped cooperating and my hypothalamus was letting me know I was in danger."Cáel", "Cáel", "Bro", and "Ishara" all came in rapid succession. I needed some space both tangible and social."I need to step outside," I eased Obsidian off me and stood up. My sense of my personal danger was ratcheting up. While I had been studying Obsidian, so I could screw her, I had discovered more and more Alal-badness.The light display had ignited a series of pressing implanted memories which had been clamoring for my attention. Things like not all 'divinities' were stewards of the Weave. Some even wanted its destruction, preferring risking all on a chaotic restructuring of reality over what existed now ~ things like Obsidian. They weren't attempting to do so because they thought they had no chance.But there was. A real serious chance to unravel reality existed; and it was staring her in the face. It wasn't 'me' as in 'I was the Anti-Christ'. But with the torrent of memories pouring forth, I knew where the peril lay and I was completely responsible for it. Hell, I was a prime ally of Armageddon and hadn't even known it.'Holy Shit!'I blinked. Timothy was shaking me. We were out in the lobby."Oh my God, Timothy," I nearly wept. "What am I going to do?""I have no idea what you are talking about. Is there someone you can talk to about this?" he suggested. Normal folks were around us. Obsidian was at my side. Sovann was behind Timothy with an arm around Theddy's shoulder."Theddy," I looked at her. "Can I catch up with you later? I just realized I've screwed up something fierce." I put my best 'really don't want to go but I gotta' face on. Her worried look brightened, she slipped around Timothy and gave me a tingling French kiss."I'll hold you to that, Cáel," she murmured when we parted."Timothy, go home, I got shit to deal with," I hoped my grin didn't become as feeble as I felt it to be."I," he started to say something. "Time not to ask questions?""Yeah.""Okay.""Wait." I pulled us to the side and went on to my toes, leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Tell Pamela 'he' sent Ajax to kill the Professor, his family and the sisters. They were the targets all along. It wasn't me, or the other women. Just in case,""Okay," Timothy patted my arm. It was cryptic. It was the best I could do. See, I wanted to cry so badly.{2:09 pm Sunday, September 7th ~ Last day}Where to begin:Every mythology across the globe has some creature, or creatures, which threatens Existence. Usually a God, or a Hero-God, slays the creature and everything is right with the world, except such a being, being older than Existence itself, can't really die, so they are carved up, buried ~ what have you.Illuyankamunus was one such manifestation of this underlying cancerous desire to destroy reality. He'd had a far more real child, SzelAnya, and she's never quite given up on her dad. Of far greater critical importance, she was 'part' of Illuyankamunus, somewhat in the way I was part of Alal and Baraqu. And yes, that meant all the offspring of Bolu, the guy I'd praised a few hours earlier, held the seeds of that malignant deity as well.And Alal knew it. He hadn't been killing off the descendants. He'd left that task up to a group far more capable of the task, the Egyptian Rite, who knew a fucking threat to existence when they saw it. Lest I forget, No secret society are the 'good guys'. Also lest I forget, I alone decided to go after the Arinniti sons to fulfill Vranus' quest. I had no divine mandate I was aware of nor any real world orders.Inadvertently, I had rounded up the last five mortal remains of Illuyankamunus in one place for convenient disposal in a remote Transylvanian town. The only problem was: if someone didn't get to them quickly, I was also about to whisk them into the loving (and heavy-armed) protective embrace of the Amazon Host, where the completion of centuries of culling would have suddenly become a cast-iron bitch instead of a simple disposal.Enter Ajax. Yeah, I bet the Egyptians were trying to figure out how I stopped him as well as Alal. I thought I was being clever by not telling most of the world. In fact, they most likely suspected; and the reality of SzelAnya watching over me was much more terrifying. Ishara had put a serious curse on the Amazons, yet her curse only affected her followers, the Amazons, who were fair game.SzelAnya had killed someone for me, and I hadn't been one of her followers. Thus I had committed a blasphemous act only a magician of some significant ability could have managed. I wasn't a sorcerer, but I had a cornucopia of mystic knowledge rolling around in my noggin. Trying to figure all this out was one of my major headaches.The others?I even suspected I knew who betrayed me ~ kinda. They didn't do it on purpose. At least I hope they didn't, because my odds-on favorite was my Mother by way of Captain Delilah Faircloth. Realistically, there was only one secret society who might help her against Grandpa and that was the Egyptian Rite, and they did send three people to Dad's funeral including two 'somebodies'. I'm an idiot.I'd chatted away in fluent New Kingdom Egyptian and it never occurred to me how odd it was for two of them to also be so fluent in it. Know it, sure, but as fluent as Kimberly had taught me to be? That should have been a Red Flag.The Earth & Sky had sent Iskender, who should have been the benchmark I judged the other delegations by, damn it.Three Condos? They'd killed my Dad and their guys had been flunkies.The 7 Pillars had been nobodies, which they'd proven by their inaction.Now I had to question why I had 3 actual  9-Clans  assassins at my dad's funeral too. Holy Ishara, I wasn't nearly paranoid enough.Anyway, why would the Amazons be aiding and abetting the End of All Life on Earth? Normally, they wouldn't be, but 3000 years ago, the majority of Human life did a colossal dump on the Amazons. And when they needed help, they got it in the form of SzelAnya and her dual-sex followers. I seriously doubt they told the Amazons their purpose was to resurrect SzelAnya's daddy. I imagine the Amazons didn't pry too much either.It turned out almost to be okay. During the 2nd Betrayal, the Amazons betrayed SzelAnya and almost short-circuited her plans by exterminating her lineage.Except for the Arinniti elders and Bolu. Good old 'except'.I can imagine when the Egyptians heard about the 2nd Betrayal, they figured they were 'okay'. Those wacky Amazons had inadvertently done the world a favor. Except an act of maternal love kept a slender hope of Illuyankamunus' return alive. By the time the Egyptians realized they'd been prematurely hopeful, Bolu's descendants were all over the Balkans and hunting them down had proven difficult.But, it gets worse. Much worse.When those Gods shattered Illuyankamunus, they scattered him in the relative certainty no one would ever gather the parts back together.His flesh was scattered across the land, modern day Turkey, but encompassing everything from Pakistan to Italy and Egypt to Poland. The flesh became soil, then plants, the things that eat plants, then food for humans. Get the picture.Whoops. SzelAnya had been doing just that for centuries upon centuries every time she mated with a mortal of Illuyankamunus' line and had offspring, they accumulated his energy, which made hunting down the few remaining ones easier to find, since they were 'beacons of badness', except...There were two key pieces missing which SzelAnya could never get. After all, you would think burying them on the far side of the world would matter, right?The 'breath of Illuyankamunus' ~ his cosmic fire ~ they buried in a volcano in a distant land far across the Great Sea. His spirit 'body' they imprisoned in a great river, again, across the Great Sea.But wait, it gets worse.The being standing next to me knew precisely where the 'breath of Illuyankamunus' was. Seems Mesoamerica is laced with volcanos. They'd discovered 'the breath' long ago and used it as a weapon called Xiuhcoatl. Better yet, Alal suspected she and her buddies were more than happy to reunite it with the rest if they thought the Weave itself wouldn't annihilate them for daring to do so.In their current, weakened state they were vulnerable to such a karmic backlash. In theory, a reborn Illuyankamunus would have access to power beyond the bounds of the Weave, older and more terrifying. Still, without the mortal remains to anchor the energy, giving it to the spirit would be pointless.Alal knew where the spirit body was (in general), but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was where it was,Of all the places the Arinniti sons could have fled to, they had to choose Brazil, the burial place of the restive spirit body of Illuyankamunus. Mother-fucker.And Ildiko 'Alkonyka' aka Dusk Lovasz had sworn she'd travel to Brazil to fulfill Bolu's side of the quest in the same way I was holding up Vranus' end. If I tried to stop her, SzelAnya would know something was up. Fuck.I was processing all of this when Obsidian violently yanked me out of the way. A cabby had swerved to avoid a flurry of trash and nearly run over us. It was the third near-concussive experience in the past five minutes she'd help me avoid while she had walked by my side. I'd been mumbling like a madman."That would be my Goddess wanting to talk with me," I looked her way."I know," she gave me a clever smile."She's really not going to like that," I shook my head."I know that too," she kept smiling. "Where is your mind?""Five lives away from making the world a safer place," I sighed."Safer for who?" she purred. Where were all the bimbos? Not only was it an insightful question, it cut straight to the heart of my dilemma.What decision could I make? If I elected to help my fellow Amazons, I risked screwing with the world. In truth, I was risking everything even if I did nothing. Well Dad was always clear that things didn't change by themselves. You needed to do something that would have an effect. So, 'What are you going to do?'More to the point, I wasn't Grandad. Killing the last five of the line of Illuyankamunus wasn't 'me', so it wasn't going to be something I'd worry about.SzelAnya wanted to bring back her Dad, I could understand that. I'd have to figure out a way for her to believe this world sticking around was more important. How? Well, I had a goddess-like creature right in front of me to probe for ideas."You are an immortal," Obsidian commented. She'd been weighing her opinion for some time. I could tell by the wonderment with which she gifted each word."What? No. I can die.""No. I don't think so. Your wounds. Normally the wounds I inflict flow freely for some time. Yours have already scabbed over," her eyes flickered to the various minor scars she'd imparted to me in the few hours we'd been together.Of course, her idea was insane, Oh God No! I was in Grandad's body. Well Duh! His body was supposed to be immortal."Are you sure?" I looked deep into her eyes."You are a young immortal, the youngest I've ever met, but you are an immortal," she seemed to be convincing herself as much as me.Stupid Assumption (on my part)! I wasn't in Alal's body. I was in Cáel's. Because the Cáel soul shard was young, Alal hadn't been able to find it because it had moved through Time, to me, sonofabitch! 'I' hadn't been around for him to find. No! I was making yet another damn assumption.What did I know? When Pamela found Baraqu, it had been in an object, not a person, though she had been short on details. When the Alal-shard went to the Land of the Endless Black Sands to bring Saku back, the Cáel-shard had been in reality, so it had been allowed to create a body, 'me'. Still, the curse Sarrat Irkalli placed on Baraqu was on Alal and myself as well, which meant I might just be immortal.My Alal-mind agreed with Obsidian's assessment. In his first years, his healing had been slow, still taking days for what took mortal people weeks. I'd stupidly attributed my swift recovery to Amazon medicines, ugh. Because I got wounded more than most Security Detail trainees while concurrently entertaining two and three sex partners."Can you talk with Dot Ishara?" I asked her."Yes, but why would I?""Sex?""We are going to have sex anyway," she smiled. I'd tricked her. Set her up with the right so I could now drop her with the left."I can bring the mbo  tat  back to life," I pledged. That was not what she was expecting at all. "If you bring the Xiuhcoatl, I can bring the flesh and we can unite the three." Mbo  tat  was the Tupi name for the legendary 'fiery serpent' of the Amazon Basin. In Portuguese, it had become Boi-tat , a will-o-wisp with a confused, Christianized mythology ~ a serpent dwelling in darkness, devouring the eyes of corpses, glowing in the forests at night."Where is the flesh?" she whispered."In his mortal children," I replied."Who?""You are a monster, Ītzpāpālōtl. I'm not going to tell you and you don't have the time to drag the information out of my mind before my allies drop on you like a nuclear detonation," I drew my body tightly to her."Why would the Amazons do this?""They are not. This is a deal between you and me," I kissed her lips. I pulled back. A few seconds later she kissed me back."Why?""My grandfather had my father murdered and I would avenge him. In the end, despite my father's Amazon heritage, my 'Sisters' will let his death go unavenged for the greater good of the Host. He was a man and they will never look beyond that ~ they will never value his life as they would that of a woman.""Your mother's father?""Yes. Cáel O'Shea of the Illuminati.""We are not at war with the Illuminati," she murmured. It was a casual observation, not a protest."You are at war with Cáel O'Shea.""He was slain.""He didn't stay dead.""You know much more than you are saying," she was finally catching on."Absolutely.""I need much more than a few names to convince my kin to help," she purred, a cocktail of sexual immersion and flesh-flaying pain."I don't work for you. You are agreeing to work for me," I was hard as iron in more than one way. Why? Boundaries. She lived in a world where only the fundamentals of reality constrained her. Having a human, no matter how polished my pedigree, or how much I might appear to be 'special', tell her 'you are not the boss' in a reasonable fashion was new and very unwelcome."What would make you think that?""My mentor taught me knowledge is a curse. It is our inability to forget, and I can see into your soul, Ītzpāpālōtl. You care not one wit for the life of an assassin. But the thought of the other 'Factors' of the 9 Clans treating you as an equal galls you almost as much as the crushing reality that you need them."You have lived 500 years in chains and I'm offering you a desperate grab at freedom," I added."Your brief glimpse of immortality gives you no insight into my existence," she bristled."Oh, how many have given up? How many have decided the fight was no longer worth it and faded from the Sunlight to make their final trip into the Underworld, never to return? Do you even visit them?" I spoke with a voice tinged with compassion and loss. I pulled upon the pitiless, blank memories of a childless Alal all those centuries and imprinted on them my own fears of fatherhood and failure."How do you know so much?" she let her fa ade crack, then blow away, in the hollowness of her own sorrow. How could I pity such a monster? I could because I was me and I wouldn't surrender that to the barbaric past and most likely horrific future. I pulled her close, resting my chin on the top of her head."You are not the first, wonderful, very bright woman who has stepped into my life, Obsidian," I whispered. "You are not even the first divinity. For all the millions of differences enforced by power and time, I think love, hate and the conflict between the two wear upon us all. If anything, you face an endless parade of hope and misery. Even if you chose to ignore it, you have seen it and perhaps it leaves its marks ~ water scarring the rocks of a riverbed."We paused. I was able to peripherally scan about and realize we'd made it to Central Park ~ the Ramble and off the beaten path."Your Goddess is a fool for not keeping you closer," she murmured."She does keep me close. You have been actively keeping me from her," I reminded my guest. "She also plays by the rules, so is of limited help in my plans for vengeance."Translation: I could enlist Ītzpāpālōtl's aid while still remaining loyal to my matron Goddess. Ishara could not provide what I needed and my Amazons wouldn't agree with my scheme, so I needed her. Three hours ago, she wouldn't have considered me a worthy supplicant, much less an allied equal, yet here she was conspiring with me to shake the foundations of Creation.Personally, I was thanking Mamitu, Destiny. Had I not been having my worst Sunday ever when we first crossed paths and then acted like a total cockhead, pissed her off and led her to holding Sarrat Irkalli's dagger, thus putting her life in my hands, and not had Timothy as a best friend, I wouldn't have taken her to the movie, and my mind wouldn't have wandered down those dark corridors of Alal's memories to piece things together.Whatever itinerary Obsidian had approached me with, my abrasive behavior had forced her to it cast aside. Dagger, movie, revelations, I was now so much more in her eyes than she had envisioned."Share my need and share with me an ounce of your sorrow," I murmured to her as I gently curled my fingers in her hair and directed her head up until she faced me."The dagger," she rumbled. While she was stroking my hard-on, I knew she was using it as a double meaning."I was pinned to an onyx sacrificial table," I began my tale. We worked off pants to mid-thigh then 'got busy'. Penetration was only going to be possible by turning her around. Ground-breaking was her ready acceptance of my instruction. I leaned against a tree, then pulled her onto my lap. She guided my phallus home.One locomotion and I sunk in deep. It was warm molasses until I hit and pressed against her cervix. For a second Obsidian trembled, then her muscles clamped down tightly, gripping my manhood firmly in a vise, keeping me still."Ah," I groaned. Obsidian had her neck twisted, so we were kissing with eye contact as I described my adventures with the Gong tau sorcerers. She shot me a quick twinkle of delight, a connection. She'd relayed physical pleasure in the way I was giving her cerebral gratification, aka hope.I rolled up her shirt, and gave both nipples a brutal tweak in response. She gasped. I was applying a little 'rough' with my tender intercourse. She rolled her tush against my groin, an invitation to double-down on my nipple-play. I kept my left hand working over each tit while working my fingernails down her abdomen. As I described the terror in old Tsu's face as he shouted out 'M iyǒu! (Mandarin for 'No!') as he recognized too late the curse he was invoking. She relished the visual of the Han necromancer's terror.'Me' smacking two fingers down on her clit earned me a squeal and a small gush of fluids on my nut-sack. Her look of astonishment was something I'd always cherish. Before me, sex was something she demanded from her followers/victims and definitely orchestrated. Her partners being fearful/worshipful must have limited their initiative."A-a-a-ah, we are being observed," she groaned, her lips less than an inch from mine. It took me a second."Which direction?" I kept pumping her, strumming her clit and treating her tit like taffy on a hot Coney Island summer afternoon. Her hooded eyes flickered to our right. I gave it ten seconds. I had to get Obsidian refocused on what I was going to do to her next, in case this was innocent voyeurism. Nope. It was Chaz.Why Chaz? See, I'm an idiot. My cryptic warning to Timothy for Pamela had been good for all of one minute. He'd called her and she'd gathered what she could and come looking for me.Why was she concerned? I was babbling to Timothy then wandering off with a 'beyond-freaky' chick I had just met named 'Obsidian' who came my way courtesy of another chick with the name of Estere.Let me see, Estere was Hashashin and for Timothy to describe someone in my life as 'beyond freaky' was bad news. Timothy was seriously worried about me and Timothy was an emotional rock ~ he didn't panic. Lest we forget, I was in a federal taskforce. A quick peek into New York traffic cameras revealed me and Obsidian wandering into Central Park from the south, so in the rescue party went, splitting up and Chaz 'lucked-out'.I still had two, no, three problems. I was really enjoying my sexual excursion with Obsidian and she was seeming to truly enjoy her experience with me. Oh, and Central Park is big, Pamela had been pressed for people, so she had pressed some unlikely participants into my rescue party."He's," smooch, "my brother, by adoption," I headed off the whole idea she'd been briefed on me already."Visual, Peacekeeper Six, OS2, L-11," Chaz muttered into his headset before taking up a casual stance on the path overlooking our trysting spot. Sex with an audience didn't bother her, so, we worked out as much action from twist, turns and two inches of in-and-out motions (she liked to keep our bodies tight) as we could. Obsidian was humming along in no time. Her vaginal walls were undulating, wearing away at my self-control.Panting, not from us,"Is he o, are they, who is she?" huffed and puffed a trio of voices from Chaz's locale. Oh. Pamela had recruited my 'Hounds'.I accidently (from a timing perspective) took that moment to grind my nails into her left nipple, pinched her clit and hammered her as hard as I could. Obsidian howled. Her vocalization exited the human realm in a cataclysmic manner.The noise scared avians a mile away into terrorized flight. Cats hissed, then raced for cover. Dogs tucked tail and ran. Streetlights a hundred yards away shattered in sprays of glass. Better yet, for the entertainment of my viewing public, she lashed out with her right hand at the closest Black Cherry sapling, exploding it into a mist of sap and pulverizing the bark and wood fiber into pulp.On the downside, her cervix gave my balls an ultimatum ~ release my seed at once, or she was going to twist off my head. My cock and balls have a long history of making decisions without me. I began lavishing her. Before I finally got the feeling I was out of the danger zone. She was back to rubbing against me and purring in blissful satisfaction."Onun g zleri," whispered Belgin, one of the Turks. 'Her eyes'?"Cáel, are you aware of the alternative nature of your liaison?" Chaz coolly cautioned me. Translation: 'mate, do you know you have your cock in a demon?'"Yeah," I coughed. I had a face full of her hair. I was working on some post-coital nuzzling along with slowly helping her get her pants back up."Ininzqueoccehpa," she hummed to me, ignoring our gathering. That was 'let's do this again'."Tehuatlcochitlehua," I replied with some fondness. She studied me for a second before deciding my term was one of endearment, thus 'you are what dreams are made of', not 'nightmares'.Obsidian had another issue to deal with. Timothy would call it a righteous cocking. Whatever it was, her hold on her human mein had slipped and her inhumanity was slipping through, mainly in her glass-like, black, multi-facetted eyes and her fingers which now ended in molten obsidian talons. On the subconscious level, her predatory nature was setting everyone close-by on edge. I could also make out the high pitched, ultrasonic pipping of her chiropteran cries ~ purpose unknown.Obsidian made her way off farther into the underbrush leaving me a few precious seconds to appreciate her retreating posterior while holstering my equipment. More people were arriving. I had one more thing to take care of before, oh look, Nikita had brought her Mom along, the NYPD Sergeant."Chaz, I need to have a quick chat with Dot before I can explain things. She's been waiting and that's unwise," I looked to the Brit. He nodded."Cáel? Mr. Nyilas? Prince?" all came my way. I relaxed as best I could. Chaz went to a body blow to stagger me, then an epic upper cut to send me to Lullaby Land.Dot & the DragonessDot and SzelAnya, in dragon form, were waiting as I tumbled forward. By the state of my haziness, I knew my unconsciousness wouldn't last long."You gave her your seed," came the accusation."Yes," I staggered, "and now you should be able to track her," I pointed out the bonus part of the arrangement. No comment."I've got to make this quick, SzelAnya, I've found your father, geographically speaking," I dropped the bomb."Don't," Dot Ishara commanded. After all, she and her divine cohorts had done the killing and corpse-dividing eons ago. Undoubtedly, they'd executed their own oaths to one another to 'never reveal what they had done' as well."Too late," I shook my head. SzelAnya's attention was magnetized. "I owe you and I'm paying my debts. I'm not blind to the dangers, believe me.""You have no idea what power you are invoking," Dot's undercurrent of displeasure was the worst I'd experienced."Wrong. I've got thousands of years of Alal boiling around in my head, Plus the rest of you betrayed her 2600 years ago. It doesn't mean I have to. And now, given the chance, I'm not. Even if you kill me, she's got enough toBack in the Ramble"Really expect me to believe," Nikita's mom was growling."Man down," I waved a weak arm skyward."Mr. Nyilas, what is going on here?" the Sergeant addressed me. I was reclining in a circle of my 'Hounds'; most were kneeling. Chaz was in a tiny bit of trouble for having clocked me."Umm, thanks for coming out and looking for me. I assure you, Mr. Tomorrow did what he did as a matter of his professional duties ~ intelligence gathering." As I struggled to stand, my ladies helped me. I saw Pamela with three Hounds coming up fast from one direction and Virginia with three more coming from the other. The gang was all here.The mutterings in non-English tongues suggested a bit of explaining was already going on."You've been bleeding," Nikita pointed out with an unspoken 'again'."This?" I pulled my shirt out and looked at the first bloodstain of my encounter. "This is the just the start of the bad news." I shed my windbreaker and then t-shirt.The professionals shouldered aside the others to take a closer look."All of these are from noon and less than an hour ago," I identified the damage. Sarge was skeptical. Chaz, Nikita and Virginia less so."They look older," the senior lawman noted."I've been curious about that," Chaz frowned."I've inherited my Grandfather's curse. My soul fragment was in the 'Here and Now' twenty-three years ago while his was, 'over there', so I was allowed to come into creation. According to my recently departed guest,""You are immortal," Virginia mumbled to finish the thought. Had the speaker not been a member of the FBI, who knows how the thought would have been received."From the memories I've been gifted with," I tapped the tiny divot on my forehead, "his healing abilities started out rather slowly too. I certainly don't want to test this theory, so no worries there," I scanned the group."How do you explain seeing your Grandfather in Hungary and again in Rome?" Virginia wondered."Again, that woman who just left," I got out."Was no woman," Nuray, another one of my Turkish Hounds interrupted. "Her eyes..." she tried to explain, "and look what she did to that tree," she pointed to the greatest piece of evidence of supernatural wrongdoing. The other two witnesses nodded."We all saw the same thing. Her eyes were, bottomless, definitely not human," Belgin affirmed. The veteran players looked to Chaz."She had a collapsed nose-bridge, lacked a blink response, her dental work was carnivorous and her tongue was extremely clipped and showed prehensile qualities," he reported calmly. Pause. Chaz was a freaking intelligence operative, after all."If her hands were a type of glove weaponry, I've never seen it s like before. While I know it is possible for a human to exert the force-pounds necessary to snap a two inch diameter tree trunk in one blow, it is a rare skill and requires intense discipline. This appeared to be done spontaneously, without preparation of any kind and as a reaction to other stimuli," he added."It was also your assessment he needed to be knocked unconscious?" Nikita's mom countered."Mr. Nyilas' psychological constructs are something the whole team has to work around. At times, he seeks 'insight' from his mind in a deliberately unconscious/non-sleep state," he replied."He claims to be talking with spirit powers. I know when he returns to consciousness, he delivers useful intelligence. I'm not a psychologist, psychiatrist, or psychic. I don't know why his mind functions that way. I do know results. And I know I work with people who would achieve those results by other means if it were at all possible. Since we haven't found another method, we accept that from tim

Järngänget är tillbaka när Jofi, Petrina, och den förlorade fadern Armann snackar loss. Om barn som får narkos och gillar det, det vackra språket holländska, epadunk-killar som får barn med barn, målvakter med självskadebeteende, och Escobar-killen Olof K Gustafsson. Bland annat. Köp biljett till UNDER JORD! Det gör du på http://underjord.nu! Köp biljett till LIDE BALL QUIZ! Det gör du också på http://underjord.nu! Håll koll på sånt Petrina Solange gör på http://petrina.se! Stötta podden på http://patreon.com/mandag!

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Nivå: B1-B2 Min käre mor (mor = mamma) är och hälsar på mig i Valencia och jag tog tillfället i akt och gjorde ett poddavsnitt med henne. Ämnet är de 10 vanligaste frågorna folk har om svenskar! Det blev ett intressant samtal. I slutet pratar vi lite om Language Lock-in Boot Camp eftersom hon ju faktiskt har varit med på två av dem. Känner du att du verkligen vill tvinga dig själv att tala bara svenska i 9 dagar, samtidigt som du får en fantastiskt rolig upplevelse du kommer minnas hela livet? Då är bootcampet för dig! Klicka här för att läsa mer och anmäla dig.  --- Transkript --- Yes, välkommen till Simple Swedish Podcast och idag blir det faktiskt ett samtal med ingen mindre än min mamma. Hon är tillbaka i podden. Hon har ju varit med flera gånger förut och det brukar vara uppskattat. Så idag har jag haft ett samtal med henne och ämnet var tio frågor som folk ofta ställer om svenskar. Så jag frågade faktiskt ChatGPT efter tio frågor som folk brukar ställa om svenskar, och så ställde jag dem till henne helt enkelt. Så ja, det här avsnittet är såklart lite svårare än de andra avsnitten eftersom det är ett samtal men jag tror också att det är lite lättare än samtal generellt på svenska. Dels för att ni är vana att höra mig men också för att vi båda pratar lite långsammare och tydligare, tror jag. I slutet pratar vi också lite om Bootcampet, för ansökningarna till sommarens Bootcamp är öppna nu och hon var faktiskt med på Bootcampet i somras. Och ja, hon har varit med en sommar och en vinter. Så jag frågade henne lite också om det också på slutet. Ja, Bootcampet, Language Lock-in Boot Camp, det är ju ett nio dagar långt Bootcamp där du måste prata svenska hela tiden. Alla andra språk är förbjudna. Det betyder att du får inte använda något annat språk än svenska. Om du känner att du.. verkligen måste tvinga dig själv att bara prata svenska under en tid och du vill kombinera det med en fantastisk oförglömlig upplevelse i mitten av Sverige i en historisk villa omgiven av vacker natur, skogar, sjöar och tillsammans med en riktigt härlig grupp människor ..då är Bootcampet för dig! Så gå till www.languagelockin.com och anmäl dig till Bootcampet. Och innan vi börjar med det här avsnittet ska jag tacka några nya patrons såklart. Det är Pieter, Bryan, Federica, Nataliya, Flurin, Nerses, Christine, Judit, Mengs och Annika. Tack till er för att ni stödjer den här podden och ni får tillgång till transkript till det här och alla andra avsnitt såklart. Yes, det var det. Då lyssnar vi på dagens avsnitt! ..om du vill läsa hela transkriptet - klicka här!

9a-10a Dave Grohl's baby momma revealed, Drake and Partynextdoor are #1 on charts, Kanye and Bianco break up and get back together, how many languages are there, and a round of "Dead or Alive"

Welp, folks doesn't get much worse than this guy, am I right? Hold onto your butts, 'cause Carl Panzram might be the most sadistic, evil, adventurous, killer-iest killer of all time. People say that frequently, right? "Of all time"? But seriously this buckoo, woah boy. Boy howdy. Mamma mia. Other things people say also. Send your scary stories to: mikeohhello@gmail.com  Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thatchapterpodcast  Business enquires : thatchapter@night.co Researched by Benj Button Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices