Podcasts about mating season

Bob is a laternfly UFO - Big Power Rankings... Top 5 Animals Mating Noises performed by Bob - Does Mikey Have Ringworm - Pittsburgh Scanner Honeybuns - Sensual Tomlin - A Lil Lets Go Pens - Making Love on the McDonalds Lawn - Starbucks holiday cups Facebook comments - Have anything fun for the show or want to say hi... Listen on iHeartRadio click the little mic and leave us a talkback message

EPISODE 60 - "THELMA RITTER: CLASSIC CINEMA STAR OF THE MONTH" - 11/04/2024 There's a scene in the classic 1950 film All About Eve where Eve Harrington (ANNE BAXTER), a star-struck fan who has infiltrated the life of Broadway star Margo Channing (BETTE DAVIS), is telling the tragic story of her past to Margo and her friends. While Margo and company are drawn into the sad circumstances of Eve's life, Margo's acerbic dresser Birdie, played to perfection by the great THELMA RITTER, is not buying her sob story. After Eve finishes, Birdie mutters, "What a story! Everything but the bloodhounds snappin' at her rear end." This is probably the moment I fell in love with Ritter. With her heavy New York accent, diminutive size, working-class charm, and sarcastic zingers, she made a career of stealing scenes from big stars and making the most of her time on screen. She played characters wiser than most, and her characters certainly didn't suffer fools gladly. She is a cinematic treasure, and we celebrate her as our Star of the Month. SHOW NOTES:  Sources: All About Eve: The Complete Behind-The-Scenes Story of the Bitchiest Film Ever Made (2001), by Sam Staggs; All About Thelma and Eve: Sidekicks and Third Wheels (2002), by Judith Roof; Actresses of a Certain Character (2007) by Axel Nissen; “Thelma Ritter, Versatile Actress with Raspy Voice Dies at 63,” February 5, 1969, New York Times; “Ten Women that Changed the Face of Film Forever,” March 8, 2019, by Harry Fletcher, The Standard; TCM.com; IMDBPro.com; IBDB.com; Wikipedia.com; Movies Mentioned:  Miracle on 34th Street (1947), starring Maureen O'Hara, Edmund Gwenn, John Payne, and Natalie Wood; Call Northside 777 (1948), starring James Stewart, Richard Conte, and Helen Walker; A Letter To Three Wives (1949), starring Jeanne Crain, Linda Darnell, Ann Sothern, Kirk Douglas, Paul Douglas, Jeffrey Lynn, Connie Gilchrist, and Barbara Lawrence; Father Was a Fullback (1949), starring Fred MacMurray and Maureen O'Hara; All About Eve (1950), starring Bette Davis, Ann Baxter, Gary Merrill, Celeste Holm, Hugh Marlowe, George Sanders, Marilyn Monroe, Gregory Ratoff, and Barbara Bates; The Mating Season (1951), starring John Lund and Gene Tierney; The Model and the Marriage Broker (1951), starring Jean Peters and Scott Brady; With a Song in My Heart (1952), starring Susan Hayward, Rory Calhoun, David Wayne, Robert Wagner, and Helen Westcott; Titanic (1953), starring Barbara Stanwyck, Clifton Webb, Robert Wagner, and Brian Aherne; Pick Up On South Street (1953), starring Richard Widmark, Jean Peters, and Richard Kiley; As Young As You Feel (1951), starring Monty Woolley, David Wayne, Jean Peters, Constance Bennett, Marilyn Monroe, Allen Joslyn, and Albert Dekker; Rear Window (1954), starring James Stewart, Grace Kelly, Wendel Corey, and Raymond Burr; Daddy Long Legs (1955), starring Fred Astaire and Leslie Caron; The Proud and Profane (1956), starring William Holden and Deborah Kerr; A Hole In The Head (1959), starring Frank Sinatra, Edward G. Robinson, and Eleanor Parker; Pillow Talk (1959), starring Doris Day and Rock Hudson The Misfits (1961), starring Clark Gable, Marilyn Monroe, Montgomery Clift, and Eli Wallach; Birdman of Alcatraz (1962), starring Burt Lancaster, Karl Malden, Neville Brand, Betty Field, Telly Savalas, Edmond O'Brien, and Hugh Marlowe; How The West Was Won (1962), starring James Stewart, Gregory Peck, John Wayne, Debbie Reynolds, Henry Fonda, Carroll Baker, Lee J. Cobb, Karl Malden, and Richard Widmark; Move Over Darling (1963), starring Doris Day, James Garner, and Polly Bergen; Boeing, Boeing (1965), starring Tony Curtis and Jerry Lewis; What's So Bad About Feeling Good? (1968), starring George Peppard and Mary Tyler Moore; --------------------------------- http://www.airwavemedia.com Please contact sales@advertisecast.com if you would like to advertise on our podcast. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hurricane Milton made land fall as a cat 3 yesterday. Loudoun Country mobile health clinic. It is Deer mating season so watch out on the roads.  Make sure to also keep up to date with ALL our podcasts we do below that have new episodes every week:The Thought ShowerLet's Get WeirdCrisis on Infinite Podcasts

The Smart 7 is an award winning daily podcast that gives you everything you need to know in 7 minutes, at 7am, 7 days a week...With over 16 million downloads and consistently charting, including as No. 1 News Podcast on Spotify, we're a trusted source for people every day and the Sunday 7 won a Gold Award as “Best Conversation Starter” in the International Signal Podcast Awards If you're enjoying it, please follow, share, or even post a review, it all helps...Today's episode includes the following guests:Guests Baroness Worthington - Environmental Campaigner, Chair and Founder of EmberDavid Milliband - Secretary of State for Energy and Net ZeroWIll Guyatt - The Smart 7's Tech Guru Kathleen Corradi - New York's Rat CzarOliver Moore - Urban Affairs Reporter for the DecibelPhylicia Porter - Baltimore City Council Member Rita McMahon - New York's Wild Bird FundMatt Scullin - CEO of MycoworksLee Anderson - Former Finnish Education MinisterSonna Lindhau is a primary school teacher in Helsinki Andrew Lound - Astronomer and Space commentator Dr Cara Shillington - Biology professor at Eastern Michigan UniversityContact us over at X or visit www.thesmart7.comPresented by Ciara Revins, written by Liam Thompson and produced by Daft Doris. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

On today's Newsroom Temperature Check, sponsored by American Weathermakers, Heating, Cooling, and Plumbing, Lisa Dent and the Newsroom share their weird news and odd stories.

Buckle Up! It's been a while since Jeff has been fired up about a topic but today the Jeff Heated Meter makes its debut. But first, Jordan recounts her National Geographic experience watching Elk mating season… and boy was it a day.  Thank you to this week's sponsors: JLO Beauty - Want that JLo Glow? Head to JLOBeauty.com/TOGETHERMESS and get a SPECIAL GIFT of FOUR FREE Masks for listeners of Togethermess. Prolon - Right now, Prolon is offering Togethermess listeners %15 off their 5-day nutrition program. Go to ProlonLife.com/TOGETHERMESS. Don't miss out on our mess! Follow us: INSTAGRAM YOUTUBE JEFF JORDAN We would love your feedback... If you enjoyed this episode, tell us why! Leave us a review and make sure you subscribe on your favorite podcast platform. Executive Producers are Riley Peleuses + Ian McNeny for YEA Media Group If you are interested in advertising on this podcast or having Jeff and Jordan as guests on your Podcast, Radio Show, or TV Show, reach out to podcast@yeamediagroup.com Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

niagara falls. Collection II - ‘antithesis. Track 12. - ‘niagara falls' Prod By Blū Tha Guru [Previously on L E G E N D S: Enter The Multiverse} Baby's all right Brooklyn Pretty little palace of disaster Pretty little patterns of — Whatever Tantrums, smashing Jack o lanterns Shadows, Hands that attach to the strings Allowing them to dance into dreams It seems these sacred places Have been ravaged And I have not been running But I don't have any money Wise than that It's less than zero Negatives I want to kill myself again Honestly, I see a way out it just Requires being tortured By people coughing. And motorcycles I might have seen my son for the last time At age five It's finally warm outside And everything's just Reminding me I'm struggling with poverty Nothing really matters cause I don't belong here Everything is wrong I just want blonde hair, Hurry up, God Assist me with a suicide I can take pride in Not an attempt, but The only success I'll ever have At anything At all -El Al Nothing moves the same After an unrequited love becomes a tragedy Or just a movie scene I want to scream for needing to be needed Then again Could die just to be dead Could go back To just be blacklisted Or a crackhead Doing magic tricks Pass I couldn't have ever imagined This fascination as of late Or making trance But anything can happen With the light switches on and off As the kite catches headwinds Or hedwig is getting bigger by the minute That just grows out of his head, But I wish it was a wig Like Kristen Pass Yes. Breathe deep into my lungs, These scenes of things So evil seeming, even to me Lucidity becomes as dreamily Eerie, intermittently meaningless, And then suddenly, However much later, Maddeningly attractive, As I am, in fact Attached to this project As menacingly handsome and devilish as he is I've decided, it's manageable, but clashes with my Moral standards and clasps with fabrications Lay hands on me and see what happens! —-okay… “Okay” Pass! I asked to be a rockstar and showrunner On the same blood soaked candles I took blood oaths Dancing in front of the fountain At rockafeller plaza, to no applause, Of course, Drinking monsters nonstop, Ontop of my skateboard I came back late to Boston And took a plane to Vegas early the next morning But somewhere deep in my Google Drive or documents Is me under a neon sign, Which reads a name I resigned from saying Until maybe I get signed I hate him, but hey, The name of the game is Mating Season, And lately I've been craving eggs and Mayonnaise instead of protein shakes and Crayons Wax on, wax off… Pass, but that last sentence didn't make sense It did.:: Oh, Yes, it did. Promise. You do some stupid shit. Okay, so I do stupid shit. Believe me, you do some stupid shit. Okay, I believe you. Don't believe me when I tell you things like that. What the fuck, Patrick, do you mean, even? I mean what I mean, but usually just— For me. I am you, I thought. Exactly: don't believe me. Okay? I don't believe you… Just—believe me. Believe me. Oh dang. So there really is no “Jimmy Fallon” No, there isn't it's just— Poor little Jimmy Fallon… What if— There is no “if”. Nobody has to ‘agree' to this project Sign the terms of agreement For what. You'll see.. stupid little bitch. *squints* What did you just say. (Walking away, mumbling) Nothing! Fucking idiot. What did you just say?! (Yelling) I said you're a fucking idiot, Fallon! You're a fucking lDi0T: Well, okay. lol NBC is not gonna let this fly at all. No, Jimmy, you cannot do this project. Well, that's alright. I quit. You can't quit. You have a contract. I don't—I'm out of my contract: On what grounds?! Conflict of interest! That's my say, isn't it? Is it? MORGUE. I bought a network! MY NAME IS— MAaaa!! WHATTTTTTT. The show's on! [A Cold Open] L E G E N D S {Enter The Multiverse} Fuck this kid. I'm gonna kill him. Kill what. Who. FALLON. GET IN HERE. Ah. [explitive] [‘THE FALLON' gets ‘FALLONED' by ELLEN DEGENERES] ELLEN YES. FINALLY, I'm in this bitch. [And other members of ‘THE HOSTS COLLECTIVE', a high ranking team in the ILLUMINATI FOREFRONT] Well, not in the way I'm sure you'd hoped, but. Shutthefuckup! Oh wait—is she Is it “she” Is she a lesbian?! What's the “Illuminati”— We'll get back to that later. No! gross! Portia Derossi! Huh? I want to be that pretty! Well, okie. MEANWHILE, In my actual own age group… I'm older than all these hosts, anyway! Even Leno? Isn't he dead already?! Exactly! EVEN STEVENS [BEANS is now VEGAN] Why is vegan capitalized. Cause it's important. Hey buddy! Don't call me buddy. I'm edging on 40. Time flies when you're— Rapidly aging? I brought you some bacon. You what: It's farm fresh! Kooldjredalert Lie to me Try to sleep (In my arms, won't you) Try to keep the Time with My heart Beat (Heavenly) I've been living in your world for just over a month, now. I'm sorry, Fallon. That must be awful. Not too sorry— Some of this stuff is good. Just, priceless. Wouldn't trade it for the world. But I've hung my head in shame, Cause I hung myself with gratitude, Haven't you had enough? If it makes any difference at all, And I'm betting it does All I wished for a wanted and prayed Was for you to be happy I buy burners with trackers Put burn holes in sweaters The summit at the plummet, pulling forwards And backwards I've four words for parlors, For barbers and hatchets I bury the four suns, The moon arose after I left an Oscar on your alter this morning Never shall ye rest, Haven't ever then, Paid the tythe, And for the while, Immortal wife and lover, Mother daughter, Soon to call your name and number, However, The fall from the drop of polish, Of course, oil marks upon canvases Sickness and swells of my Hands upon your corset Could you collide with another? Doubtful, to that, So shall it must be List, but never to utter A mustard seed; Ground, then unground— As if planted, Simple, As the seed of laughter So then, would you By the turn of the hour, return to the one had you called Lover, A curse upon the Coerced and responsible A blonde, But worse, A pretty one For never after happens out of nowhere Now, Dissociate, Before I dissipate of Loneliness Hark, The door opens for one, A bold soldier to come, Listen lover, The stone has been Suspended, by the mirror In terror Alarmed, Cool you are now Calm, however Not abound to be lie Or below Bound by blood There you are In excelsior, Predecessor What would you want that for— The camera obscured; Why, If only, To look upon you Plastered and enlarged As you are Endangered in my imagination A dangerous and strange, Dangling addiction Fascination, now With power, And prowess Come now, The midnight hour is upon us [his body hung from the rafters above the studio, just one lamp left aglow—and then suddenly I had awakened, his body still and resting, sleeping quietly—although the hanged man burned into my mind; I left him quietly as I could in the loft and sat with nothing in my mind at all at the canvas, brush in hand, as if I were to draw something—but could not. It was almost as if I was frozen, or even perhaps the canvas were instead a mirror, and I the painting —though I could not know. My dearest Patrick was a broken man, and I his broken lover—the both of us an atrocity at all in shambles—I wept inwardly but not outward, as not to wake him as my tears often did, even from a deep sleep. The sun was far from rising, and though I had barely slept at all, I felt I would never sleep again—I fell at my tilted alter as the sun rose, in prayer and devastation; What had I done?] —Esha's Memoirs, the journals from The Altar You know what, kid— You've got something. I don't know what it is, But it's something. Kid? Aren't we like, the same age? No. I'll tell you what I've got I've got a seven year old kid I haven't seen in two years; I've got a sink full of dishes I've got credit card debt and school loans I've got racist neighbors, An ex husband who swears he never hit me With a brand new baby I've got Extreme back pain I've got a body only God could ever love And I've got something like 10,000 pages or more Of stuff I barely remember writing Just sitting in the Google algorithm Pushing me closer and closer to suicide Every single day I've got Sexual fantasies about celebrities for no given reason at all. I've got 800 songs that are just words I've got books I want to read just— sitting there And I've got this pain That just sits inside my soul That never goes away, ever I've got something, alright. I've got something, sure But when it comes to money I got a dollar One fucking dollar And you know what I call that? -Useless. She's dead, isn't she? You guessed it. Well, what am I supposed to do? What you always do. What is that? What is that? Swear of the palm d ore I Cannes, Atop the Eiffel You are the river that crosses my eye, The scar across my heart, The Eye, is All we are And all is one; One is all, And All are One Well, I'm quite nervous. Don't be nervous, at all, Johnny. Relax. Another John—my first, in fact. Indeed, I was once relentlessly obsessed With Johnny Depp Infatuated, if you will Whatever you want to call it. Of course, For a teenaged girl, however This sort of obsession was somewhat normal Somewhat. I had always wanted to star in movies— So much so that I began to write them. I was about 7, maybe 8 when the stories in my headed started to form as narratives— Not just stories, but words Characters and conversations— Plots. I should leave this poor Fallon boy alone. Some darkness inside of me wants him; That thing that doesn't quiet, nor does it want, Anything but what it wants— And it is, Darkness-m— That thing that lives inside of me and what is does; The thing it calls love, and calls our for The something in someone that rises it up From wherever it dwells, Deep in my soul, and into my hear, Into my thoughts, It haunts all that I must and mustn't Ponder upon A woman's cause, And a murderer of sorts, The ugly swan , who dances on ponds, Laying one one, but all of precious stones, The egg, The coveted stones of trust, And wander, Listing upon that which it feeds, Not only the bod, But its motor, It's mind, A hearty philosopher, And willful warrior, Of wit, And of talent, The strength of Astonishment A power above all, A blindness of fate; Judged by all The spectacular amongst us The famed and the damned, Acquitted of warmth and dutiful, Exquisite in awe A rarity. —The Fame Files. V.O. Coming to terms with one's death is always peaceful. All harm caused will be returned by he/she who causes it or acts in such a way as to inflict pain and hostility towards peaceful persons. Causing with intention psychological, physical, mental, or physical harm will result in the immediate karmic retaliation of such pain as inflicted on peaceful individuals; these acts of war will inhibit the actor from entering the transcendence, or developing expanded consciousness, gaining wealth, further material possessions–his own will is therefore weakened, and therefore unworthy of love himself, by the intent to cause one such pain as an act of violence or ill will. One's disruption of peace is thereby an act of cruelty, punishable beyond death–causing pain by intention to another individual in the attempt of control or manipulation, intrusion, and abuse is therefore against the laws by which the ascended abide by, and therefore cannot and will not exist beyond the ill fate of its perpetrator. Please leave me alone; I'm asking you nicely. Alright, fine. Where is it! Where is what? You know what. What? From the fountain. It wasn't me! I don't have it. And this, is why Jimmy Fallon is impenetrable. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

niagara falls. Collection II - ‘antithesis. Track 12. - ‘niagara falls' Prod By Blū Tha Guru [Previously on L E G E N D S: Enter The Multiverse} Baby's all right Brooklyn Pretty little palace of disaster Pretty little patterns of — Whatever Tantrums, smashing Jack o lanterns Shadows, Hands that attach to the strings Allowing them to dance into dreams It seems these sacred places Have been ravaged And I have not been running But I don't have any money Wise than that It's less than zero Negatives I want to kill myself again Honestly, I see a way out it just Requires being tortured By people coughing. And motorcycles I might have seen my son for the last time At age five It's finally warm outside And everything's just Reminding me I'm struggling with poverty Nothing really matters cause I don't belong here Everything is wrong I just want blonde hair, Hurry up, God Assist me with a suicide I can take pride in Not an attempt, but The only success I'll ever have At anything At all -El Al Nothing moves the same After an unrequited love becomes a tragedy Or just a movie scene I want to scream for needing to be needed Then again Could die just to be dead Could go back To just be blacklisted Or a crackhead Doing magic tricks Pass I couldn't have ever imagined This fascination as of late Or making trance But anything can happen With the light switches on and off As the kite catches headwinds Or hedwig is getting bigger by the minute That just grows out of his head, But I wish it was a wig Like Kristen Pass Yes. Breathe deep into my lungs, These scenes of things So evil seeming, even to me Lucidity becomes as dreamily Eerie, intermittently meaningless, And then suddenly, However much later, Maddeningly attractive, As I am, in fact Attached to this project As menacingly handsome and devilish as he is I've decided, it's manageable, but clashes with my Moral standards and clasps with fabrications Lay hands on me and see what happens! —-okay… “Okay” Pass! I asked to be a rockstar and showrunner On the same blood soaked candles I took blood oaths Dancing in front of the fountain At rockafeller plaza, to no applause, Of course, Drinking monsters nonstop, Ontop of my skateboard I came back late to Boston And took a plane to Vegas early the next morning But somewhere deep in my Google Drive or documents Is me under a neon sign, Which reads a name I resigned from saying Until maybe I get signed I hate him, but hey, The name of the game is Mating Season, And lately I've been craving eggs and Mayonnaise instead of protein shakes and Crayons Wax on, wax off… Pass, but that last sentence didn't make sense It did.:: Oh, Yes, it did. Promise. You do some stupid shit. Okay, so I do stupid shit. Believe me, you do some stupid shit. Okay, I believe you. Don't believe me when I tell you things like that. What the fuck, Patrick, do you mean, even? I mean what I mean, but usually just— For me. I am you, I thought. Exactly: don't believe me. Okay? I don't believe you… Just—believe me. Believe me. Oh dang. So there really is no “Jimmy Fallon” No, there isn't it's just— Poor little Jimmy Fallon… What if— There is no “if”. Nobody has to ‘agree' to this project Sign the terms of agreement For what. You'll see.. stupid little bitch. *squints* What did you just say. (Walking away, mumbling) Nothing! Fucking idiot. What did you just say?! (Yelling) I said you're a fucking idiot, Fallon! You're a fucking lDi0T: Well, okay. lol NBC is not gonna let this fly at all. No, Jimmy, you cannot do this project. Well, that's alright. I quit. You can't quit. You have a contract. I don't—I'm out of my contract: On what grounds?! Conflict of interest! That's my say, isn't it? Is it? MORGUE. I bought a network! MY NAME IS— MAaaa!! WHATTTTTTT. The show's on! [A Cold Open] L E G E N D S {Enter The Multiverse} Fuck this kid. I'm gonna kill him. Kill what. Who. FALLON. GET IN HERE. Ah. [explitive] [‘THE FALLON' gets ‘FALLONED' by ELLEN DEGENERES] ELLEN YES. FINALLY, I'm in this bitch. [And other members of ‘THE HOSTS COLLECTIVE', a high ranking team in the ILLUMINATI FOREFRONT] Well, not in the way I'm sure you'd hoped, but. Shutthefuckup! Oh wait—is she Is it “she” Is she a lesbian?! What's the “Illuminati”— We'll get back to that later. No! gross! Portia Derossi! Huh? I want to be that pretty! Well, okie. MEANWHILE, In my actual own age group… I'm older than all these hosts, anyway! Even Leno? Isn't he dead already?! Exactly! EVEN STEVENS [BEANS is now VEGAN] Why is vegan capitalized. Cause it's important. Hey buddy! Don't call me buddy. I'm edging on 40. Time flies when you're— Rapidly aging? I brought you some bacon. You what: It's farm fresh! Kooldjredalert Lie to me Try to sleep (In my arms, won't you) Try to keep the Time with My heart Beat (Heavenly) I've been living in your world for just over a month, now. I'm sorry, Fallon. That must be awful. Not too sorry— Some of this stuff is good. Just, priceless. Wouldn't trade it for the world. But I've hung my head in shame, Cause I hung myself with gratitude, Haven't you had enough? If it makes any difference at all, And I'm betting it does All I wished for a wanted and prayed Was for you to be happy I buy burners with trackers Put burn holes in sweaters The summit at the plummet, pulling forwards And backwards I've four words for parlors, For barbers and hatchets I bury the four suns, The moon arose after I left an Oscar on your alter this morning Never shall ye rest, Haven't ever then, Paid the tythe, And for the while, Immortal wife and lover, Mother daughter, Soon to call your name and number, However, The fall from the drop of polish, Of course, oil marks upon canvases Sickness and swells of my Hands upon your corset Could you collide with another? Doubtful, to that, So shall it must be List, but never to utter A mustard seed; Ground, then unground— As if planted, Simple, As the seed of laughter So then, would you By the turn of the hour, return to the one had you called Lover, A curse upon the Coerced and responsible A blonde, But worse, A pretty one For never after happens out of nowhere Now, Dissociate, Before I dissipate of Loneliness Hark, The door opens for one, A bold soldier to come, Listen lover, The stone has been Suspended, by the mirror In terror Alarmed, Cool you are now Calm, however Not abound to be lie Or below Bound by blood There you are In excelsior, Predecessor What would you want that for— The camera obscured; Why, If only, To look upon you Plastered and enlarged As you are Endangered in my imagination A dangerous and strange, Dangling addiction Fascination, now With power, And prowess Come now, The midnight hour is upon us [his body hung from the rafters above the studio, just one lamp left aglow—and then suddenly I had awakened, his body still and resting, sleeping quietly—although the hanged man burned into my mind; I left him quietly as I could in the loft and sat with nothing in my mind at all at the canvas, brush in hand, as if I were to draw something—but could not. It was almost as if I was frozen, or even perhaps the canvas were instead a mirror, and I the painting —though I could not know. My dearest Patrick was a broken man, and I his broken lover—the both of us an atrocity at all in shambles—I wept inwardly but not outward, as not to wake him as my tears often did, even from a deep sleep. The sun was far from rising, and though I had barely slept at all, I felt I would never sleep again—I fell at my tilted alter as the sun rose, in prayer and devastation; What had I done?] —Esha's Memoirs, the journals from The Altar You know what, kid— You've got something. I don't know what it is, But it's something. Kid? Aren't we like, the same age? No. I'll tell you what I've got I've got a seven year old kid I haven't seen in two years; I've got a sink full of dishes I've got credit card debt and school loans I've got racist neighbors, An ex husband who swears he never hit me With a brand new baby I've got Extreme back pain I've got a body only God could ever love And I've got something like 10,000 pages or more Of stuff I barely remember writing Just sitting in the Google algorithm Pushing me closer and closer to suicide Every single day I've got Sexual fantasies about celebrities for no given reason at all. I've got 800 songs that are just words I've got books I want to read just— sitting there And I've got this pain That just sits inside my soul That never goes away, ever I've got something, alright. I've got something, sure But when it comes to money I got a dollar One fucking dollar And you know what I call that? -Useless. She's dead, isn't she? You guessed it. Well, what am I supposed to do? What you always do. What is that? What is that? Swear of the palm d ore I Cannes, Atop the Eiffel You are the river that crosses my eye, The scar across my heart, The Eye, is All we are And all is one; One is all, And All are One Well, I'm quite nervous. Don't be nervous, at all, Johnny. Relax. Another John—my first, in fact. Indeed, I was once relentlessly obsessed With Johnny Depp Infatuated, if you will Whatever you want to call it. Of course, For a teenaged girl, however This sort of obsession was somewhat normal Somewhat. I had always wanted to star in movies— So much so that I began to write them. I was about 7, maybe 8 when the stories in my headed started to form as narratives— Not just stories, but words Characters and conversations— Plots. I should leave this poor Fallon boy alone. Some darkness inside of me wants him; That thing that doesn't quiet, nor does it want, Anything but what it wants— And it is, Darkness-m— That thing that lives inside of me and what is does; The thing it calls love, and calls our for The something in someone that rises it up From wherever it dwells, Deep in my soul, and into my hear, Into my thoughts, It haunts all that I must and mustn't Ponder upon A woman's cause, And a murderer of sorts, The ugly swan , who dances on ponds, Laying one one, but all of precious stones, The egg, The coveted stones of trust, And wander, Listing upon that which it feeds, Not only the bod, But its motor, It's mind, A hearty philosopher, And willful warrior, Of wit, And of talent, The strength of Astonishment A power above all, A blindness of fate; Judged by all The spectacular amongst us The famed and the damned, Acquitted of warmth and dutiful, Exquisite in awe A rarity. —The Fame Files. V.O. Coming to terms with one's death is always peaceful. All harm caused will be returned by he/she who causes it or acts in such a way as to inflict pain and hostility towards peaceful persons. Causing with intention psychological, physical, mental, or physical harm will result in the immediate karmic retaliation of such pain as inflicted on peaceful individuals; these acts of war will inhibit the actor from entering the transcendence, or developing expanded consciousness, gaining wealth, further material possessions–his own will is therefore weakened, and therefore unworthy of love himself, by the intent to cause one such pain as an act of violence or ill will. One's disruption of peace is thereby an act of cruelty, punishable beyond death–causing pain by intention to another individual in the attempt of control or manipulation, intrusion, and abuse is therefore against the laws by which the ascended abide by, and therefore cannot and will not exist beyond the ill fate of its perpetrator. Please leave me alone; I'm asking you nicely. Alright, fine. Where is it! Where is what? You know what. What? From the fountain. It wasn't me! I don't have it. And this, is why Jimmy Fallon is impenetrable. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

niagara falls. Collection II - ‘antithesis. Track 12. - ‘niagara falls' Prod By Blū Tha Guru [Previously on L E G E N D S: Enter The Multiverse} Baby's all right Brooklyn Pretty little palace of disaster Pretty little patterns of — Whatever Tantrums, smashing Jack o lanterns Shadows, Hands that attach to the strings Allowing them to dance into dreams It seems these sacred places Have been ravaged And I have not been running But I don't have any money Wise than that It's less than zero Negatives I want to kill myself again Honestly, I see a way out it just Requires being tortured By people coughing. And motorcycles I might have seen my son for the last time At age five It's finally warm outside And everything's just Reminding me I'm struggling with poverty Nothing really matters cause I don't belong here Everything is wrong I just want blonde hair, Hurry up, God Assist me with a suicide I can take pride in Not an attempt, but The only success I'll ever have At anything At all -El Al Nothing moves the same After an unrequited love becomes a tragedy Or just a movie scene I want to scream for needing to be needed Then again Could die just to be dead Could go back To just be blacklisted Or a crackhead Doing magic tricks Pass I couldn't have ever imagined This fascination as of late Or making trance But anything can happen With the light switches on and off As the kite catches headwinds Or hedwig is getting bigger by the minute That just grows out of his head, But I wish it was a wig Like Kristen Pass Yes. Breathe deep into my lungs, These scenes of things So evil seeming, even to me Lucidity becomes as dreamily Eerie, intermittently meaningless, And then suddenly, However much later, Maddeningly attractive, As I am, in fact Attached to this project As menacingly handsome and devilish as he is I've decided, it's manageable, but clashes with my Moral standards and clasps with fabrications Lay hands on me and see what happens! —-okay… “Okay” Pass! I asked to be a rockstar and showrunner On the same blood soaked candles I took blood oaths Dancing in front of the fountain At rockafeller plaza, to no applause, Of course, Drinking monsters nonstop, Ontop of my skateboard I came back late to Boston And took a plane to Vegas early the next morning But somewhere deep in my Google Drive or documents Is me under a neon sign, Which reads a name I resigned from saying Until maybe I get signed I hate him, but hey, The name of the game is Mating Season, And lately I've been craving eggs and Mayonnaise instead of protein shakes and Crayons Wax on, wax off… Pass, but that last sentence didn't make sense It did.:: Oh, Yes, it did. Promise. You do some stupid shit. Okay, so I do stupid shit. Believe me, you do some stupid shit. Okay, I believe you. Don't believe me when I tell you things like that. What the fuck, Patrick, do you mean, even? I mean what I mean, but usually just— For me. I am you, I thought. Exactly: don't believe me. Okay? I don't believe you… Just—believe me. Believe me. Oh dang. So there really is no “Jimmy Fallon” No, there isn't it's just— Poor little Jimmy Fallon… What if— There is no “if”. Nobody has to ‘agree' to this project Sign the terms of agreement For what. You'll see.. stupid little bitch. *squints* What did you just say. (Walking away, mumbling) Nothing! Fucking idiot. What did you just say?! (Yelling) I said you're a fucking idiot, Fallon! You're a fucking lDi0T: Well, okay. lol NBC is not gonna let this fly at all. No, Jimmy, you cannot do this project. Well, that's alright. I quit. You can't quit. You have a contract. I don't—I'm out of my contract: On what grounds?! Conflict of interest! That's my say, isn't it? Is it? MORGUE. I bought a network! MY NAME IS— MAaaa!! WHATTTTTTT. The show's on! [A Cold Open] L E G E N D S {Enter The Multiverse} Fuck this kid. I'm gonna kill him. Kill what. Who. FALLON. GET IN HERE. Ah. [explitive] [‘THE FALLON' gets ‘FALLONED' by ELLEN DEGENERES] ELLEN YES. FINALLY, I'm in this bitch. [And other members of ‘THE HOSTS COLLECTIVE', a high ranking team in the ILLUMINATI FOREFRONT] Well, not in the way I'm sure you'd hoped, but. Shutthefuckup! Oh wait—is she Is it “she” Is she a lesbian?! What's the “Illuminati”— We'll get back to that later. No! gross! Portia Derossi! Huh? I want to be that pretty! Well, okie. MEANWHILE, In my actual own age group… I'm older than all these hosts, anyway! Even Leno? Isn't he dead already?! Exactly! EVEN STEVENS [BEANS is now VEGAN] Why is vegan capitalized. Cause it's important. Hey buddy! Don't call me buddy. I'm edging on 40. Time flies when you're— Rapidly aging? I brought you some bacon. You what: It's farm fresh! Kooldjredalert Lie to me Try to sleep (In my arms, won't you) Try to keep the Time with My heart Beat (Heavenly) I've been living in your world for just over a month, now. I'm sorry, Fallon. That must be awful. Not too sorry— Some of this stuff is good. Just, priceless. Wouldn't trade it for the world. But I've hung my head in shame, Cause I hung myself with gratitude, Haven't you had enough? If it makes any difference at all, And I'm betting it does All I wished for a wanted and prayed Was for you to be happy I buy burners with trackers Put burn holes in sweaters The summit at the plummet, pulling forwards And backwards I've four words for parlors, For barbers and hatchets I bury the four suns, The moon arose after I left an Oscar on your alter this morning Never shall ye rest, Haven't ever then, Paid the tythe, And for the while, Immortal wife and lover, Mother daughter, Soon to call your name and number, However, The fall from the drop of polish, Of course, oil marks upon canvases Sickness and swells of my Hands upon your corset Could you collide with another? Doubtful, to that, So shall it must be List, but never to utter A mustard seed; Ground, then unground— As if planted, Simple, As the seed of laughter So then, would you By the turn of the hour, return to the one had you called Lover, A curse upon the Coerced and responsible A blonde, But worse, A pretty one For never after happens out of nowhere Now, Dissociate, Before I dissipate of Loneliness Hark, The door opens for one, A bold soldier to come, Listen lover, The stone has been Suspended, by the mirror In terror Alarmed, Cool you are now Calm, however Not abound to be lie Or below Bound by blood There you are In excelsior, Predecessor What would you want that for— The camera obscured; Why, If only, To look upon you Plastered and enlarged As you are Endangered in my imagination A dangerous and strange, Dangling addiction Fascination, now With power, And prowess Come now, The midnight hour is upon us [his body hung from the rafters above the studio, just one lamp left aglow—and then suddenly I had awakened, his body still and resting, sleeping quietly—although the hanged man burned into my mind; I left him quietly as I could in the loft and sat with nothing in my mind at all at the canvas, brush in hand, as if I were to draw something—but could not. It was almost as if I was frozen, or even perhaps the canvas were instead a mirror, and I the painting —though I could not know. My dearest Patrick was a broken man, and I his broken lover—the both of us an atrocity at all in shambles—I wept inwardly but not outward, as not to wake him as my tears often did, even from a deep sleep. The sun was far from rising, and though I had barely slept at all, I felt I would never sleep again—I fell at my tilted alter as the sun rose, in prayer and devastation; What had I done?] —Esha's Memoirs, the journals from The Altar You know what, kid— You've got something. I don't know what it is, But it's something. Kid? Aren't we like, the same age? No. I'll tell you what I've got I've got a seven year old kid I haven't seen in two years; I've got a sink full of dishes I've got credit card debt and school loans I've got racist neighbors, An ex husband who swears he never hit me With a brand new baby I've got Extreme back pain I've got a body only God could ever love And I've got something like 10,000 pages or more Of stuff I barely remember writing Just sitting in the Google algorithm Pushing me closer and closer to suicide Every single day I've got Sexual fantasies about celebrities for no given reason at all. I've got 800 songs that are just words I've got books I want to read just— sitting there And I've got this pain That just sits inside my soul That never goes away, ever I've got something, alright. I've got something, sure But when it comes to money I got a dollar One fucking dollar And you know what I call that? -Useless. She's dead, isn't she? You guessed it. Well, what am I supposed to do? What you always do. What is that? What is that? Swear of the palm d ore I Cannes, Atop the Eiffel You are the river that crosses my eye, The scar across my heart, The Eye, is All we are And all is one; One is all, And All are One Well, I'm quite nervous. Don't be nervous, at all, Johnny. Relax. Another John—my first, in fact. Indeed, I was once relentlessly obsessed With Johnny Depp Infatuated, if you will Whatever you want to call it. Of course, For a teenaged girl, however This sort of obsession was somewhat normal Somewhat. I had always wanted to star in movies— So much so that I began to write them. I was about 7, maybe 8 when the stories in my headed started to form as narratives— Not just stories, but words Characters and conversations— Plots. I should leave this poor Fallon boy alone. Some darkness inside of me wants him; That thing that doesn't quiet, nor does it want, Anything but what it wants— And it is, Darkness-m— That thing that lives inside of me and what is does; The thing it calls love, and calls our for The something in someone that rises it up From wherever it dwells, Deep in my soul, and into my hear, Into my thoughts, It haunts all that I must and mustn't Ponder upon A woman's cause, And a murderer of sorts, The ugly swan , who dances on ponds, Laying one one, but all of precious stones, The egg, The coveted stones of trust, And wander, Listing upon that which it feeds, Not only the bod, But its motor, It's mind, A hearty philosopher, And willful warrior, Of wit, And of talent, The strength of Astonishment A power above all, A blindness of fate; Judged by all The spectacular amongst us The famed and the damned, Acquitted of warmth and dutiful, Exquisite in awe A rarity. —The Fame Files. V.O. Coming to terms with one's death is always peaceful. All harm caused will be returned by he/she who causes it or acts in such a way as to inflict pain and hostility towards peaceful persons. Causing with intention psychological, physical, mental, or physical harm will result in the immediate karmic retaliation of such pain as inflicted on peaceful individuals; these acts of war will inhibit the actor from entering the transcendence, or developing expanded consciousness, gaining wealth, further material possessions–his own will is therefore weakened, and therefore unworthy of love himself, by the intent to cause one such pain as an act of violence or ill will. One's disruption of peace is thereby an act of cruelty, punishable beyond death–causing pain by intention to another individual in the attempt of control or manipulation, intrusion, and abuse is therefore against the laws by which the ascended abide by, and therefore cannot and will not exist beyond the ill fate of its perpetrator. Please leave me alone; I'm asking you nicely. Alright, fine. Where is it! Where is what? You know what. What? From the fountain. It wasn't me! I don't have it. And this, is why Jimmy Fallon is impenetrable. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

Don't panic, but thousands of tarantulas will soon emerge in search of a mate – at least, in select parts of the country (we'll tell you where). Plus, it's Weird Wednesday and we're bringing you the oldest bottle of cognac, the oldest living man, a missing kid that wasn't really missing, and a nude bike race. And on This Day in History – the first American steam locomotive is built, and the race that secures its place in the future of transportation. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

On today's edition of the Newsroom Temperature Check, actress Alicia Silverstone posted a TikTok video of herself biting into a potentially dangerous berry, it is peak mating season for tarantulas in New Mexico, and more! The Newsroom Temperature Check is sponsored by American Weathermakers, Heating, Cooling, and Plumbing. They won't be comfortable until you are. Follow The Lisa Dent Show on […]

The Wrap up from the Olympics – Medal Tally per capita Irish Swimmer has a crack at the Swimming marathon for fun It's Nope-Rope Mating Season Calls - Big Men, with little fears Suncorp Stadium is no longer the cauldron Ray Gun's breakdancing… Marto takes us to the Ekka When have you had to compete against a professional? Flanagan bites Crighton on the snoz Dolphins golden-point hero Sean O'Sullivan joins the show Half time entertainment at the NRL Grand Final    See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

 A disillusioned lifestyle gets renewed with incestuous love.by Jism786. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. As a twenty-year-old, after a year in college, I had become very disillusioned with my prospects. Not only was I failing my classes, but I felt like a little cog in a big machine, a machine designed to extract money from people like me. However, my parents had high expectations, and I didn't want to disappoint them. After much consideration, I figured I would take a semester off to figure things out. As expected, my parents were not only disappointed but angry as well.“So, what the hell are you going to do?” my father asked.“ I don't know yet,” I replied.As I retreated to my room, my father yelled, “Maybe you should join the marines, that way you can get your shit straight!”I wanted to cry something back, but I really didn't have anything to say. It also didn't help that my dad was an old, hard-ass marine. The next few weeks were hell. My parents were unrelenting and reminded me about my shortcomings daily. I had gotten a job at a local insurance agency, but I felt like my parents didn't want me in their house anymore. I had always been an outdoors person, and the situation was becoming unbearable. I tried to stay out of the house as much as possible. Every day, there was an argument about how school was the only option and how I had to either go back or start thinking about moving out.All this bickering finally subsided the day my dad got a phone call from his sister. My Uncle James had passed away due to a heart attack, and we had to fly over to pay our final farewell to my Uncle James. It wasn't a long flight considering it was from California to Idaho. It was nice to see my cousin and my Aunt after such a long time, three years to be exact. It was sad to see them in their misery, but I really loved them and was glad I could be there with them.My Uncle had been a very reserved man, and I had grown to like him over the years, but I never really knew him all that well. My Aunt, on the other hand, had always been very loving and motherly. She had the warmth that came from working with animals and was always very polite. My cousin Megan was twenty-three and attending school on the east coast. She had flown back as soon as she had heard about her father. She was older than me by four years, but she had always seemed much older to me. She had always been wise beyond her years and had always been a full-grown woman in my eyes.We arrived Friday night and were planning to leave Sunday night after the funeral. Pleasantries and condolences were exchanged, as expected, that first night. The older folk, including my parents, talked with my Aunt and other family members far into the night. I, on the other hand, decided to turn in early. I was given my Uncle's old study, and I found it very hard to sleep. The man had passed away, yet there were traces of his existence all around me. Mercifully, I dozed to sleep.The next morning I awoke to my father's hand gently shaking me. “John wake up.” It was hard to stay asleep with his big bear paw on my shoulder. “Listen,” he said as I turned to see him. “I know lately I've been riding you pretty hard and I'm sorry. I know you'll figure it out and I just want you know that I've got your back no matter what you choose to do,” he finished with a smile. The talk last night must have really opened his eyes to how fleeting life really was. I was still half asleep, but I felt a significant weight lift off my shoulders, both literally and emotionally. “Now get up, we have some work to do,” he finished. Although I didn't admit it to myself, I knew deep inside what work he had in mind. Every time we visited my Aunt, we ended up helping around the farm. Unlike back home, where the day started at 7 or 8 am, it started at 5 or 6 am here. I got my clothes and jacket and followed my dad as we headed out towards the small field behind my Aunt's barn.Our family has always grown in or around farms, so farm work was second nature to my father. On the other hand, I was less experienced, but I was willing to jump right in. Being on my father's good side renewed my attitude on life. Soon we were milking the small herd of cows my Uncle and Aunt owned. By the time we were done, my forearms felt sore. My dad laughed as he watched me open and close my hand.“She had some hard tits that one,” I said jokingly.“Yeah that's why I let you have that one,” he replied. “Your Uncle really like that cow. He used to say it was the best damn cow he had ever owned,” he said while looking back at the herd.I also looked around and could see the steam rising from the cows' backs. The mornings here truly felt magical. The sky was golden as the sun rose over the hilltops. The calves suckled quietly on their mothers'. It was a beautiful scene, to say the least.By the time we got back to the house, the women had already started breakfast. The place was bustling with people as neighbors and friends came to offer their condolences. The rest of the day went just like that. People coming and leaving while my Aunt tried her best to remain a good hostess.Tomorrow would be my Uncle's funeral, and it was really starting to set in that he was really gone. Late that evening, a small circle of men sat around a fire outside my Aunt's house. I could see they were all men who were a lot like my Uncle, landowners, and men of integrity. My dad was talking to them, and I decided to join them. They spoke of my Uncle and the kind of man he was, telling stories about some of his crazy ideas and sayings.All in all, it was a good feeling as I learned more about the man who I knew so little about. I soon found out that my Uncle had not only been a good husband to my Aunt but a perfect friend to all of them. He had, at one time or another, helped each one of these men. They were saddened to have lost him so soon. He had only been 46. My Aunt was only 40.Soon the talk took a somber tone as one man asked my father, “Has Rose told you was she plans to do with the farm?”“No, not yet,” my father replied calmly. “I will talk to her before I go and make sure she has what she needs. In any case she's a strong woman and she has that going for her,” he finished as he took a drink from his beer.After a few seconds, my dad spoke again. “In any case, I think John might stay here with her for a while.” I had my eyes fixated on the fire this whole time but processed what he had said. “What about it?,” asked my dad as he patted my back.“Sounds like a plan.” I replied, wondering if he was drunk.With that being said, the men eased back on their chairs watched the fire before them. I stood up and went to take a piss. I walked behind an old tractor that had been there for as long as I could remember, unleashing a small torrent on the side of one of the rear wheels.“You could go inside and do that,” I heard my cousin Megan's voice in the dark.Quickly I zipped up my jeans and looked up to where the voice was coming from. My cousin was lying on her back on top of the engine compartment of the tractor.“I'm sorry,” I muttered, embarrassed.Hearing my voice, she quickly turned to see me. “Oh, its you…” she said, surprised.I tried kicking some dirt over the little pond I had created. The last thing I wanted was for my cousin to smell was my piss. She smiled only slightly.“I wonder what my mom would think…” she started, “she used to yell at my dad for peeing on that exact same spot you know,” she said sadly.I noticed the distinct difference in some of the grass's color by the tractor's rear and front wheel. When I looked back up at Megan, I could see her eyes watering and knew she was trying not to cry. She slowly turned around, and I stood there wondering what to do. My eyes wandered up and down her small frame. She had always been a looker. She had her mother's brown wavy hair and a pretty face to go with it. She was shorter than her mom but had inherited the wide hips and ample bust that she always tried to hide by wearing a sweater.“I'm sorry about your dad,” I said slowly.“Thanks,” she said, still facing away.Without a word, I climbed up the side of the tractor and leaned over her. She was sniffling, and the hood of her sweater covered her face. Gently I kissed the only visible part of her cheek. She smiled, and I jumped back off the side of the old beast. I headed back to the house a little relieved and feeling generally good about myself.The next morning we had the funeral. The entire day was a sad ordeal. I soon realized how much I hated seeing my mom and aunt cry. My dad had an arm around my Aunt, but her shoulders still shook hard. I didn't feel like crying but watching my mother sob broke my composure, and I could feel my eyes watering. My cousin was sobbing uncontrollably, and I was glad her friends around her. She had always been daddy's little girl, and now she was reeling, having seen her father's casket buried. We stayed there hours after the funeral had ended, and I couldn't help but contemplate all the changes death brought.On the way back home, my father and I talked about what he had said yesterday. I had given it very little thought, considering he had been a little tipsy, but now I saw he was earnest. We had a long discussion about how it might be useful if I stayed with my Aunt for a few weeks, and I couldn't help but agree. I really was perfect for the task. I had nothing waiting for me back home, and I was grateful for a change in scenery. Being able to get my father off my back was another blessing that sealed the deal. My father didn't waste any time proposing the idea to my Aunt about me staying.The first thing out of her mouth was, “Don't you have school?”I smiled and replied, “Not for a couple of months.”It was the truth… school had ended, and she didn't need to know that I planned on skipping next semester. On the other hand, my cousin would be heading back as soon as she could find a flight. She had signed up for the summer session and needed to be back at school that same week. After some discourse, it was agreed that I would stay.My father took me aside and informed me that he would be depositing some funds to help with the expenses. I was glad, considering I had only a few hundred dollars from my last job. Hours later, my parents got their things ready for their morning flight, and I once again turned in earlier than usual. I spent the next couple of minutes thinking about what the next days would bring. I would be staying with my recently widowed Aunt on a small farm… freedom, at last, I thought.The next morning I awoke to the sound of my parents leaving. I kissed my mother goodbye and hugged my dad for a long time.“Take good care of her,” he said in his deep voice.“I will Dad,” I replied.My Aunt had always been very close to my dad, and I could feel the weight behind his request. She hugged each of them as well, and my mom finished by saying, “You give me a call if he gives you any trouble, and don't be afraid to smack him if he acts up…. you have my permission.”She said, smiling. “I wouldn't dream of it,” my Aunt Rose answered as she looked at me lovingly.I waved them goodbye as the cab pulled away. When I turned around, my Aunt was in the doorway smiling at me. She opened her arms, and soon I found myself pressing willingly into the softness of her breasts.That day I spent most of the time cleaning around the house and farm; my Aunt spent it indoors, mainly. I found it incredibly difficult to talk to her about my Uncle, and I was dreading the fact that my cousin would be leaving the very next day. The day flew by as I explored the farm and the rest of the grounds. I could see myself falling in love with this lifestyle.The next day, I drove my cousin to the airport, and it was now time to say goodbye.“Take good care of my mom John,” Megan told me.“Don't worry I will…” I answered reassuringly.Megan had suggested to my Aunt that she'd stay a while longer. But my Aunt would have nothing of it.“No Megan you need to finish up your schoolwork and besides I'll be fine with John here.”And so it was. My cousin flew back east to finish her classes, and I became my Aunt's only company.The next few days consisted of me getting accustomed to the routine. Surprisingly, my Aunt knew as much if not more than my father about tending the farm. I found myself following her lead most of the time. As the days went on, I found myself more and more comfortable around her. In the days following the funeral, we had become close friends. I recounted my stories about past girlfriends, and my Aunt told me how she and my Uncle had met. On some days, I could see the sadness in her eyes, and I tried my best to keep her spirits high. Slowly I began to grow more and more fond of her.The next morning I noticed I had no clothes left in my suitcase. I had only packed for a few days, and now I was shit out of luck. I tried looking for the jeans I had worn the day before, but I didn't see them anywhere. I only had the pair of briefs I had fallen asleep with, and to make matters worse, they had multiple holes around the elastic band. I stayed in my room for a little while, wondering what to do.However, after a while, I heard my Aunt yell from the kitchen, “John what do you want for breakfast!?”“Anything is fine by me aunt Rose!” I yelled back.A few minutes later, I heard her yell again, “Breakfast is almost ready!”I yelled back, “Ummm I can't find my jeans…”A couple seconds passed, and I was about to yell again when I heard her say, “Oh honey I think they are all in the wash. They're almost done but you better get in here before your breakfast gets cold,” she said, finally.I searched the room for a towel but found none.“You do have underwear right?” I heard her yell down the hall again.“Yeah,” I replied. I was glad my morning woody was gone because the thought of going to the kitchen with only my ‘tighty whiteys' was quite frightening.I tried to make it to my seat at the table before my Aunt turned around, but I was too late.“Oh honey, you don't wear boxers?” she asked, smiling as she wiped her hands on her apron.“Umm no, I don't really like them,” I replied while my hands desperately trying to cover my manhood.“I'm sorry Honey, I didn't know those were all your jeans. I would have left one had I known.” she informed me.“Its okay Aunt Rose, I appreciate you washing them.” I replied. My embarrassment had already been too high, but now I could feel my face turning red.She started scrambling some eggs while in her pj's, and I could not help but stare at her ass as she did this. Her pj's were probably not designed to be sexy for all intents and purposes, but her ass was so plump and voluptuous that it stretched the fabric slightly, and I could almost picture her naked through it. I didn't think I could be more embarrassed, but being only in briefs while watching her cook awoke my cock faster than any porno I had ever watched. I only hoped I didn't have to stand up soon.“Honey, can you get me the flour that's behind you in that cupboard, I'm going to make some pancakes,” she said.“Oh, that's okay Aunt Rose, I don't want any pancakes,” I replied, hoping she wouldn't ask me to get something else.“Well I do, so if you could please,” she said.I stood up quickly and started looking through the pantry. To my horror, I couldn't find it.“Baby, you know you have a hole in your underwear?” she asked teasingly.“Yeah,” I said, more embarrassed than ever.Finally, I found the flour and turned around quickly so that she couldn't see the hole any longer. I thought about tossing the flour box to her but decided against it. I walked quickly, trying to cover my crotch area with the flour box, trying not to be too obvious. When I got close to her, I extended it to her.“How bout you help me make them,” she said. It was now that I noticed that she was relishing in my discomfort. She had a hint of defiance in her eyes. I tried not to think about anything sexual, but my cock throbbed as I saw the cleavage.“I don't really know how to make them,” I said, trying to save myself from being so exposed.“That's okay, I'll teach you,” she replied quickly.She grabbed the box out of my hand, and then I saw her eyes shift down towards my pulsating cock. I looked down to see how clear my condition was; it was worse than I could imagine to my horror. My cock had become so hard and hot that I had not noticed the dark pulsating head peeking over the elastic band of my underwear.“Oh My!” my Aunt said almost in a whisper.Her left hand was covering her cleavage while the other hand still held the spatula. I rushed to cover it up with my hands, but the damage was done. I turned to run, but my Aunt caught my arm.“Honey, honey its okay,” she said quickly yet lovingly. “Just get a towel from that counter over there and umm, try covering up as best you can.” she said in the same tender tone.I made my way to the towel and went back to the table with the towel wrapped around my waist. I must have been a sad site sitting there at the table with my face in my hands.“Honey its okay,” I heard my Aunt say again as she slid a plate in front of me.I couldn't bring myself to look at her, and I wouldn't have had she not pleaded with me, “Look at me baby.”I slowly looked up to see her beautiful face. She was leaning over the table, and her cleavage was impossible not to look at. I was utterly hopeless, and she must have thought this as well because she let out a smile when she caught my stare.“I got an idea,” she sprung up all of a sudden.She turned around and untied her apron, then to my disbelief, she slid her shirt off. She wasn't wearing a bra, and I could see the sides of her breasts even as she faced away from me. Slowly she turned around, and my mouth dropped while my cock throbbed with renewed vigor.“See, now we are even,” she said smiling. She sat down across the table, and her tits swayed slightly as she set her plate before her. “Honey, you might be able to chew your food better if you close your mouth now and again,” she said coyly.I roused myself and tried to concentrate on my food. But kept looking up at Aunt Rose's incredible, round, soft tits sitting in front of me. Her nipples were timid now, but I could see them springing forward if given enough attention. Her aureoles were a shade darker than the rest of her skin, making it a little harder to breathe. She had a distinct tan line around her breasts. I wanted to fondle them more than ever and tuck my hand underneath them to feel their weight. Soon, however, breakfast was over, and my Aunt put her shirt back on.“Better not tell your dad… or your mom,” she said jokingly.“I won't,” I managed to say, my embarrassment virtually gone.“Now you better get out there and work some of that energy off,” she pointed cautiously at my crotch as she said this.“Will do,” I replied.“And one more thing hon,” she said as I started to walk out of the kitchen, “we need to get you some new underwear and jeans.”I managed to let out a small laugh and say, “Yeah I know.”[to be continued in ‘Mating Season']by Jism786 for Literotica

 A disillusioned lifestyle gets renewed with incestuous love.by Jism786. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. As a twenty-year-old, after a year in college, I had become very disillusioned with my prospects. Not only was I failing my classes, but I felt like a little cog in a big machine, a machine designed to extract money from people like me. However, my parents had high expectations, and I didn't want to disappoint them. After much consideration, I figured I would take a semester off to figure things out. As expected, my parents were not only disappointed but angry as well.“So, what the hell are you going to do?” my father asked.“ I don't know yet,” I replied.As I retreated to my room, my father yelled, “Maybe you should join the marines, that way you can get your shit straight!”I wanted to cry something back, but I really didn't have anything to say. It also didn't help that my dad was an old, hard-ass marine. The next few weeks were hell. My parents were unrelenting and reminded me about my shortcomings daily. I had gotten a job at a local insurance agency, but I felt like my parents didn't want me in their house anymore. I had always been an outdoors person, and the situation was becoming unbearable. I tried to stay out of the house as much as possible. Every day, there was an argument about how school was the only option and how I had to either go back or start thinking about moving out.All this bickering finally subsided the day my dad got a phone call from his sister. My Uncle James had passed away due to a heart attack, and we had to fly over to pay our final farewell to my Uncle James. It wasn't a long flight considering it was from California to Idaho. It was nice to see my cousin and my Aunt after such a long time, three years to be exact. It was sad to see them in their misery, but I really loved them and was glad I could be there with them.My Uncle had been a very reserved man, and I had grown to like him over the years, but I never really knew him all that well. My Aunt, on the other hand, had always been very loving and motherly. She had the warmth that came from working with animals and was always very polite. My cousin Megan was twenty-three and attending school on the east coast. She had flown back as soon as she had heard about her father. She was older than me by four years, but she had always seemed much older to me. She had always been wise beyond her years and had always been a full-grown woman in my eyes.We arrived Friday night and were planning to leave Sunday night after the funeral. Pleasantries and condolences were exchanged, as expected, that first night. The older folk, including my parents, talked with my Aunt and other family members far into the night. I, on the other hand, decided to turn in early. I was given my Uncle's old study, and I found it very hard to sleep. The man had passed away, yet there were traces of his existence all around me. Mercifully, I dozed to sleep.The next morning I awoke to my father's hand gently shaking me. “John wake up.” It was hard to stay asleep with his big bear paw on my shoulder. “Listen,” he said as I turned to see him. “I know lately I've been riding you pretty hard and I'm sorry. I know you'll figure it out and I just want you know that I've got your back no matter what you choose to do,” he finished with a smile. The talk last night must have really opened his eyes to how fleeting life really was. I was still half asleep, but I felt a significant weight lift off my shoulders, both literally and emotionally. “Now get up, we have some work to do,” he finished. Although I didn't admit it to myself, I knew deep inside what work he had in mind. Every time we visited my Aunt, we ended up helping around the farm. Unlike back home, where the day started at 7 or 8 am, it started at 5 or 6 am here. I got my clothes and jacket and followed my dad as we headed out towards the small field behind my Aunt's barn.Our family has always grown in or around farms, so farm work was second nature to my father. On the other hand, I was less experienced, but I was willing to jump right in. Being on my father's good side renewed my attitude on life. Soon we were milking the small herd of cows my Uncle and Aunt owned. By the time we were done, my forearms felt sore. My dad laughed as he watched me open and close my hand.“She had some hard tits that one,” I said jokingly.“Yeah that's why I let you have that one,” he replied. “Your Uncle really like that cow. He used to say it was the best damn cow he had ever owned,” he said while looking back at the herd.I also looked around and could see the steam rising from the cows' backs. The mornings here truly felt magical. The sky was golden as the sun rose over the hilltops. The calves suckled quietly on their mothers'. It was a beautiful scene, to say the least.By the time we got back to the house, the women had already started breakfast. The place was bustling with people as neighbors and friends came to offer their condolences. The rest of the day went just like that. People coming and leaving while my Aunt tried her best to remain a good hostess.Tomorrow would be my Uncle's funeral, and it was really starting to set in that he was really gone. Late that evening, a small circle of men sat around a fire outside my Aunt's house. I could see they were all men who were a lot like my Uncle, landowners, and men of integrity. My dad was talking to them, and I decided to join them. They spoke of my Uncle and the kind of man he was, telling stories about some of his crazy ideas and sayings.All in all, it was a good feeling as I learned more about the man who I knew so little about. I soon found out that my Uncle had not only been a good husband to my Aunt but a perfect friend to all of them. He had, at one time or another, helped each one of these men. They were saddened to have lost him so soon. He had only been 46. My Aunt was only 40.Soon the talk took a somber tone as one man asked my father, “Has Rose told you was she plans to do with the farm?”“No, not yet,” my father replied calmly. “I will talk to her before I go and make sure she has what she needs. In any case she's a strong woman and she has that going for her,” he finished as he took a drink from his beer.After a few seconds, my dad spoke again. “In any case, I think John might stay here with her for a while.” I had my eyes fixated on the fire this whole time but processed what he had said. “What about it?,” asked my dad as he patted my back.“Sounds like a plan.” I replied, wondering if he was drunk.With that being said, the men eased back on their chairs watched the fire before them. I stood up and went to take a piss. I walked behind an old tractor that had been there for as long as I could remember, unleashing a small torrent on the side of one of the rear wheels.“You could go inside and do that,” I heard my cousin Megan's voice in the dark.Quickly I zipped up my jeans and looked up to where the voice was coming from. My cousin was lying on her back on top of the engine compartment of the tractor.“I'm sorry,” I muttered, embarrassed.Hearing my voice, she quickly turned to see me. “Oh, its you…” she said, surprised.I tried kicking some dirt over the little pond I had created. The last thing I wanted was for my cousin to smell was my piss. She smiled only slightly.“I wonder what my mom would think…” she started, “she used to yell at my dad for peeing on that exact same spot you know,” she said sadly.I noticed the distinct difference in some of the grass's color by the tractor's rear and front wheel. When I looked back up at Megan, I could see her eyes watering and knew she was trying not to cry. She slowly turned around, and I stood there wondering what to do. My eyes wandered up and down her small frame. She had always been a looker. She had her mother's brown wavy hair and a pretty face to go with it. She was shorter than her mom but had inherited the wide hips and ample bust that she always tried to hide by wearing a sweater.“I'm sorry about your dad,” I said slowly.“Thanks,” she said, still facing away.Without a word, I climbed up the side of the tractor and leaned over her. She was sniffling, and the hood of her sweater covered her face. Gently I kissed the only visible part of her cheek. She smiled, and I jumped back off the side of the old beast. I headed back to the house a little relieved and feeling generally good about myself.The next morning we had the funeral. The entire day was a sad ordeal. I soon realized how much I hated seeing my mom and aunt cry. My dad had an arm around my Aunt, but her shoulders still shook hard. I didn't feel like crying but watching my mother sob broke my composure, and I could feel my eyes watering. My cousin was sobbing uncontrollably, and I was glad her friends around her. She had always been daddy's little girl, and now she was reeling, having seen her father's casket buried. We stayed there hours after the funeral had ended, and I couldn't help but contemplate all the changes death brought.On the way back home, my father and I talked about what he had said yesterday. I had given it very little thought, considering he had been a little tipsy, but now I saw he was earnest. We had a long discussion about how it might be useful if I stayed with my Aunt for a few weeks, and I couldn't help but agree. I really was perfect for the task. I had nothing waiting for me back home, and I was grateful for a change in scenery. Being able to get my father off my back was another blessing that sealed the deal. My father didn't waste any time proposing the idea to my Aunt about me staying.The first thing out of her mouth was, “Don't you have school?”I smiled and replied, “Not for a couple of months.”It was the truth… school had ended, and she didn't need to know that I planned on skipping next semester. On the other hand, my cousin would be heading back as soon as she could find a flight. She had signed up for the summer session and needed to be back at school that same week. After some discourse, it was agreed that I would stay.My father took me aside and informed me that he would be depositing some funds to help with the expenses. I was glad, considering I had only a few hundred dollars from my last job. Hours later, my parents got their things ready for their morning flight, and I once again turned in earlier than usual. I spent the next couple of minutes thinking about what the next days would bring. I would be staying with my recently widowed Aunt on a small farm… freedom, at last, I thought.The next morning I awoke to the sound of my parents leaving. I kissed my mother goodbye and hugged my dad for a long time.“Take good care of her,” he said in his deep voice.“I will Dad,” I replied.My Aunt had always been very close to my dad, and I could feel the weight behind his request. She hugged each of them as well, and my mom finished by saying, “You give me a call if he gives you any trouble, and don't be afraid to smack him if he acts up…. you have my permission.”She said, smiling. “I wouldn't dream of it,” my Aunt Rose answered as she looked at me lovingly.I waved them goodbye as the cab pulled away. When I turned around, my Aunt was in the doorway smiling at me. She opened her arms, and soon I found myself pressing willingly into the softness of her breasts.That day I spent most of the time cleaning around the house and farm; my Aunt spent it indoors, mainly. I found it incredibly difficult to talk to her about my Uncle, and I was dreading the fact that my cousin would be leaving the very next day. The day flew by as I explored the farm and the rest of the grounds. I could see myself falling in love with this lifestyle.The next day, I drove my cousin to the airport, and it was now time to say goodbye.“Take good care of my mom John,” Megan told me.“Don't worry I will…” I answered reassuringly.Megan had suggested to my Aunt that she'd stay a while longer. But my Aunt would have nothing of it.“No Megan you need to finish up your schoolwork and besides I'll be fine with John here.”And so it was. My cousin flew back east to finish her classes, and I became my Aunt's only company.The next few days consisted of me getting accustomed to the routine. Surprisingly, my Aunt knew as much if not more than my father about tending the farm. I found myself following her lead most of the time. As the days went on, I found myself more and more comfortable around her. In the days following the funeral, we had become close friends. I recounted my stories about past girlfriends, and my Aunt told me how she and my Uncle had met. On some days, I could see the sadness in her eyes, and I tried my best to keep her spirits high. Slowly I began to grow more and more fond of her.The next morning I noticed I had no clothes left in my suitcase. I had only packed for a few days, and now I was shit out of luck. I tried looking for the jeans I had worn the day before, but I didn't see them anywhere. I only had the pair of briefs I had fallen asleep with, and to make matters worse, they had multiple holes around the elastic band. I stayed in my room for a little while, wondering what to do.However, after a while, I heard my Aunt yell from the kitchen, “John what do you want for breakfast!?”“Anything is fine by me aunt Rose!” I yelled back.A few minutes later, I heard her yell again, “Breakfast is almost ready!”I yelled back, “Ummm I can't find my jeans…”A couple seconds passed, and I was about to yell again when I heard her say, “Oh honey I think they are all in the wash. They're almost done but you better get in here before your breakfast gets cold,” she said, finally.I searched the room for a towel but found none.“You do have underwear right?” I heard her yell down the hall again.“Yeah,” I replied. I was glad my morning woody was gone because the thought of going to the kitchen with only my ‘tighty whiteys' was quite frightening.I tried to make it to my seat at the table before my Aunt turned around, but I was too late.“Oh honey, you don't wear boxers?” she asked, smiling as she wiped her hands on her apron.“Umm no, I don't really like them,” I replied while my hands desperately trying to cover my manhood.“I'm sorry Honey, I didn't know those were all your jeans. I would have left one had I known.” she informed me.“Its okay Aunt Rose, I appreciate you washing them.” I replied. My embarrassment had already been too high, but now I could feel my face turning red.She started scrambling some eggs while in her pj's, and I could not help but stare at her ass as she did this. Her pj's were probably not designed to be sexy for all intents and purposes, but her ass was so plump and voluptuous that it stretched the fabric slightly, and I could almost picture her naked through it. I didn't think I could be more embarrassed, but being only in briefs while watching her cook awoke my cock faster than any porno I had ever watched. I only hoped I didn't have to stand up soon.“Honey, can you get me the flour that's behind you in that cupboard, I'm going to make some pancakes,” she said.“Oh, that's okay Aunt Rose, I don't want any pancakes,” I replied, hoping she wouldn't ask me to get something else.“Well I do, so if you could please,” she said.I stood up quickly and started looking through the pantry. To my horror, I couldn't find it.“Baby, you know you have a hole in your underwear?” she asked teasingly.“Yeah,” I said, more embarrassed than ever.Finally, I found the flour and turned around quickly so that she couldn't see the hole any longer. I thought about tossing the flour box to her but decided against it. I walked quickly, trying to cover my crotch area with the flour box, trying not to be too obvious. When I got close to her, I extended it to her.“How bout you help me make them,” she said. It was now that I noticed that she was relishing in my discomfort. She had a hint of defiance in her eyes. I tried not to think about anything sexual, but my cock throbbed as I saw the cleavage.“I don't really know how to make them,” I said, trying to save myself from being so exposed.“That's okay, I'll teach you,” she replied quickly.She grabbed the box out of my hand, and then I saw her eyes shift down towards my pulsating cock. I looked down to see how clear my condition was; it was worse than I could imagine to my horror. My cock had become so hard and hot that I had not noticed the dark pulsating head peeking over the elastic band of my underwear.“Oh My!” my Aunt said almost in a whisper.Her left hand was covering her cleavage while the other hand still held the spatula. I rushed to cover it up with my hands, but the damage was done. I turned to run, but my Aunt caught my arm.“Honey, honey its okay,” she said quickly yet lovingly. “Just get a towel from that counter over there and umm, try covering up as best you can.” she said in the same tender tone.I made my way to the towel and went back to the table with the towel wrapped around my waist. I must have been a sad site sitting there at the table with my face in my hands.“Honey its okay,” I heard my Aunt say again as she slid a plate in front of me.I couldn't bring myself to look at her, and I wouldn't have had she not pleaded with me, “Look at me baby.”I slowly looked up to see her beautiful face. She was leaning over the table, and her cleavage was impossible not to look at. I was utterly hopeless, and she must have thought this as well because she let out a smile when she caught my stare.“I got an idea,” she sprung up all of a sudden.She turned around and untied her apron, then to my disbelief, she slid her shirt off. She wasn't wearing a bra, and I could see the sides of her breasts even as she faced away from me. Slowly she turned around, and my mouth dropped while my cock throbbed with renewed vigor.“See, now we are even,” she said smiling. She sat down across the table, and her tits swayed slightly as she set her plate before her. “Honey, you might be able to chew your food better if you close your mouth now and again,” she said coyly.I roused myself and tried to concentrate on my food. But kept looking up at Aunt Rose's incredible, round, soft tits sitting in front of me. Her nipples were timid now, but I could see them springing forward if given enough attention. Her aureoles were a shade darker than the rest of her skin, making it a little harder to breathe. She had a distinct tan line around her breasts. I wanted to fondle them more than ever and tuck my hand underneath them to feel their weight. Soon, however, breakfast was over, and my Aunt put her shirt back on.“Better not tell your dad… or your mom,” she said jokingly.“I won't,” I managed to say, my embarrassment virtually gone.“Now you better get out there and work some of that energy off,” she pointed cautiously at my crotch as she said this.“Will do,” I replied.“And one more thing hon,” she said as I started to walk out of the kitchen, “we need to get you some new underwear and jeans.”I managed to let out a small laugh and say, “Yeah I know.”[to be continued in ‘Mating Season']by Jism786 for Literotica

 A disillusioned lifestyle gets renewed with incestuous love.by Jism786. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. As a twenty-year-old, after a year in college, I had become very disillusioned with my prospects. Not only was I failing my classes, but I felt like a little cog in a big machine, a machine designed to extract money from people like me. However, my parents had high expectations, and I didn't want to disappoint them. After much consideration, I figured I would take a semester off to figure things out. As expected, my parents were not only disappointed but angry as well.“So, what the hell are you going to do?” my father asked.“ I don't know yet,” I replied.As I retreated to my room, my father yelled, “Maybe you should join the marines, that way you can get your shit straight!”I wanted to cry something back, but I really didn't have anything to say. It also didn't help that my dad was an old, hard-ass marine. The next few weeks were hell. My parents were unrelenting and reminded me about my shortcomings daily. I had gotten a job at a local insurance agency, but I felt like my parents didn't want me in their house anymore. I had always been an outdoors person, and the situation was becoming unbearable. I tried to stay out of the house as much as possible. Every day, there was an argument about how school was the only option and how I had to either go back or start thinking about moving out.All this bickering finally subsided the day my dad got a phone call from his sister. My Uncle James had passed away due to a heart attack, and we had to fly over to pay our final farewell to my Uncle James. It wasn't a long flight considering it was from California to Idaho. It was nice to see my cousin and my Aunt after such a long time, three years to be exact. It was sad to see them in their misery, but I really loved them and was glad I could be there with them.My Uncle had been a very reserved man, and I had grown to like him over the years, but I never really knew him all that well. My Aunt, on the other hand, had always been very loving and motherly. She had the warmth that came from working with animals and was always very polite. My cousin Megan was twenty-three and attending school on the east coast. She had flown back as soon as she had heard about her father. She was older than me by four years, but she had always seemed much older to me. She had always been wise beyond her years and had always been a full-grown woman in my eyes.We arrived Friday night and were planning to leave Sunday night after the funeral. Pleasantries and condolences were exchanged, as expected, that first night. The older folk, including my parents, talked with my Aunt and other family members far into the night. I, on the other hand, decided to turn in early. I was given my Uncle's old study, and I found it very hard to sleep. The man had passed away, yet there were traces of his existence all around me. Mercifully, I dozed to sleep.The next morning I awoke to my father's hand gently shaking me. “John wake up.” It was hard to stay asleep with his big bear paw on my shoulder. “Listen,” he said as I turned to see him. “I know lately I've been riding you pretty hard and I'm sorry. I know you'll figure it out and I just want you know that I've got your back no matter what you choose to do,” he finished with a smile. The talk last night must have really opened his eyes to how fleeting life really was. I was still half asleep, but I felt a significant weight lift off my shoulders, both literally and emotionally. “Now get up, we have some work to do,” he finished. Although I didn't admit it to myself, I knew deep inside what work he had in mind. Every time we visited my Aunt, we ended up helping around the farm. Unlike back home, where the day started at 7 or 8 am, it started at 5 or 6 am here. I got my clothes and jacket and followed my dad as we headed out towards the small field behind my Aunt's barn.Our family has always grown in or around farms, so farm work was second nature to my father. On the other hand, I was less experienced, but I was willing to jump right in. Being on my father's good side renewed my attitude on life. Soon we were milking the small herd of cows my Uncle and Aunt owned. By the time we were done, my forearms felt sore. My dad laughed as he watched me open and close my hand.“She had some hard tits that one,” I said jokingly.“Yeah that's why I let you have that one,” he replied. “Your Uncle really like that cow. He used to say it was the best damn cow he had ever owned,” he said while looking back at the herd.I also looked around and could see the steam rising from the cows' backs. The mornings here truly felt magical. The sky was golden as the sun rose over the hilltops. The calves suckled quietly on their mothers'. It was a beautiful scene, to say the least.By the time we got back to the house, the women had already started breakfast. The place was bustling with people as neighbors and friends came to offer their condolences. The rest of the day went just like that. People coming and leaving while my Aunt tried her best to remain a good hostess.Tomorrow would be my Uncle's funeral, and it was really starting to set in that he was really gone. Late that evening, a small circle of men sat around a fire outside my Aunt's house. I could see they were all men who were a lot like my Uncle, landowners, and men of integrity. My dad was talking to them, and I decided to join them. They spoke of my Uncle and the kind of man he was, telling stories about some of his crazy ideas and sayings.All in all, it was a good feeling as I learned more about the man who I knew so little about. I soon found out that my Uncle had not only been a good husband to my Aunt but a perfect friend to all of them. He had, at one time or another, helped each one of these men. They were saddened to have lost him so soon. He had only been 46. My Aunt was only 40.Soon the talk took a somber tone as one man asked my father, “Has Rose told you was she plans to do with the farm?”“No, not yet,” my father replied calmly. “I will talk to her before I go and make sure she has what she needs. In any case she's a strong woman and she has that going for her,” he finished as he took a drink from his beer.After a few seconds, my dad spoke again. “In any case, I think John might stay here with her for a while.” I had my eyes fixated on the fire this whole time but processed what he had said. “What about it?,” asked my dad as he patted my back.“Sounds like a plan.” I replied, wondering if he was drunk.With that being said, the men eased back on their chairs watched the fire before them. I stood up and went to take a piss. I walked behind an old tractor that had been there for as long as I could remember, unleashing a small torrent on the side of one of the rear wheels.“You could go inside and do that,” I heard my cousin Megan's voice in the dark.Quickly I zipped up my jeans and looked up to where the voice was coming from. My cousin was lying on her back on top of the engine compartment of the tractor.“I'm sorry,” I muttered, embarrassed.Hearing my voice, she quickly turned to see me. “Oh, its you…” she said, surprised.I tried kicking some dirt over the little pond I had created. The last thing I wanted was for my cousin to smell was my piss. She smiled only slightly.“I wonder what my mom would think…” she started, “she used to yell at my dad for peeing on that exact same spot you know,” she said sadly.I noticed the distinct difference in some of the grass's color by the tractor's rear and front wheel. When I looked back up at Megan, I could see her eyes watering and knew she was trying not to cry. She slowly turned around, and I stood there wondering what to do. My eyes wandered up and down her small frame. She had always been a looker. She had her mother's brown wavy hair and a pretty face to go with it. She was shorter than her mom but had inherited the wide hips and ample bust that she always tried to hide by wearing a sweater.“I'm sorry about your dad,” I said slowly.“Thanks,” she said, still facing away.Without a word, I climbed up the side of the tractor and leaned over her. She was sniffling, and the hood of her sweater covered her face. Gently I kissed the only visible part of her cheek. She smiled, and I jumped back off the side of the old beast. I headed back to the house a little relieved and feeling generally good about myself.The next morning we had the funeral. The entire day was a sad ordeal. I soon realized how much I hated seeing my mom and aunt cry. My dad had an arm around my Aunt, but her shoulders still shook hard. I didn't feel like crying but watching my mother sob broke my composure, and I could feel my eyes watering. My cousin was sobbing uncontrollably, and I was glad her friends around her. She had always been daddy's little girl, and now she was reeling, having seen her father's casket buried. We stayed there hours after the funeral had ended, and I couldn't help but contemplate all the changes death brought.On the way back home, my father and I talked about what he had said yesterday. I had given it very little thought, considering he had been a little tipsy, but now I saw he was earnest. We had a long discussion about how it might be useful if I stayed with my Aunt for a few weeks, and I couldn't help but agree. I really was perfect for the task. I had nothing waiting for me back home, and I was grateful for a change in scenery. Being able to get my father off my back was another blessing that sealed the deal. My father didn't waste any time proposing the idea to my Aunt about me staying.The first thing out of her mouth was, “Don't you have school?”I smiled and replied, “Not for a couple of months.”It was the truth… school had ended, and she didn't need to know that I planned on skipping next semester. On the other hand, my cousin would be heading back as soon as she could find a flight. She had signed up for the summer session and needed to be back at school that same week. After some discourse, it was agreed that I would stay.My father took me aside and informed me that he would be depositing some funds to help with the expenses. I was glad, considering I had only a few hundred dollars from my last job. Hours later, my parents got their things ready for their morning flight, and I once again turned in earlier than usual. I spent the next couple of minutes thinking about what the next days would bring. I would be staying with my recently widowed Aunt on a small farm… freedom, at last, I thought.The next morning I awoke to the sound of my parents leaving. I kissed my mother goodbye and hugged my dad for a long time.“Take good care of her,” he said in his deep voice.“I will Dad,” I replied.My Aunt had always been very close to my dad, and I could feel the weight behind his request. She hugged each of them as well, and my mom finished by saying, “You give me a call if he gives you any trouble, and don't be afraid to smack him if he acts up…. you have my permission.”She said, smiling. “I wouldn't dream of it,” my Aunt Rose answered as she looked at me lovingly.I waved them goodbye as the cab pulled away. When I turned around, my Aunt was in the doorway smiling at me. She opened her arms, and soon I found myself pressing willingly into the softness of her breasts.That day I spent most of the time cleaning around the house and farm; my Aunt spent it indoors, mainly. I found it incredibly difficult to talk to her about my Uncle, and I was dreading the fact that my cousin would be leaving the very next day. The day flew by as I explored the farm and the rest of the grounds. I could see myself falling in love with this lifestyle.The next day, I drove my cousin to the airport, and it was now time to say goodbye.“Take good care of my mom John,” Megan told me.“Don't worry I will…” I answered reassuringly.Megan had suggested to my Aunt that she'd stay a while longer. But my Aunt would have nothing of it.“No Megan you need to finish up your schoolwork and besides I'll be fine with John here.”And so it was. My cousin flew back east to finish her classes, and I became my Aunt's only company.The next few days consisted of me getting accustomed to the routine. Surprisingly, my Aunt knew as much if not more than my father about tending the farm. I found myself following her lead most of the time. As the days went on, I found myself more and more comfortable around her. In the days following the funeral, we had become close friends. I recounted my stories about past girlfriends, and my Aunt told me how she and my Uncle had met. On some days, I could see the sadness in her eyes, and I tried my best to keep her spirits high. Slowly I began to grow more and more fond of her.The next morning I noticed I had no clothes left in my suitcase. I had only packed for a few days, and now I was shit out of luck. I tried looking for the jeans I had worn the day before, but I didn't see them anywhere. I only had the pair of briefs I had fallen asleep with, and to make matters worse, they had multiple holes around the elastic band. I stayed in my room for a little while, wondering what to do.However, after a while, I heard my Aunt yell from the kitchen, “John what do you want for breakfast!?”“Anything is fine by me aunt Rose!” I yelled back.A few minutes later, I heard her yell again, “Breakfast is almost ready!”I yelled back, “Ummm I can't find my jeans…”A couple seconds passed, and I was about to yell again when I heard her say, “Oh honey I think they are all in the wash. They're almost done but you better get in here before your breakfast gets cold,” she said, finally.I searched the room for a towel but found none.“You do have underwear right?” I heard her yell down the hall again.“Yeah,” I replied. I was glad my morning woody was gone because the thought of going to the kitchen with only my ‘tighty whiteys' was quite frightening.I tried to make it to my seat at the table before my Aunt turned around, but I was too late.“Oh honey, you don't wear boxers?” she asked, smiling as she wiped her hands on her apron.“Umm no, I don't really like them,” I replied while my hands desperately trying to cover my manhood.“I'm sorry Honey, I didn't know those were all your jeans. I would have left one had I known.” she informed me.“Its okay Aunt Rose, I appreciate you washing them.” I replied. My embarrassment had already been too high, but now I could feel my face turning red.She started scrambling some eggs while in her pj's, and I could not help but stare at her ass as she did this. Her pj's were probably not designed to be sexy for all intents and purposes, but her ass was so plump and voluptuous that it stretched the fabric slightly, and I could almost picture her naked through it. I didn't think I could be more embarrassed, but being only in briefs while watching her cook awoke my cock faster than any porno I had ever watched. I only hoped I didn't have to stand up soon.“Honey, can you get me the flour that's behind you in that cupboard, I'm going to make some pancakes,” she said.“Oh, that's okay Aunt Rose, I don't want any pancakes,” I replied, hoping she wouldn't ask me to get something else.“Well I do, so if you could please,” she said.I stood up quickly and started looking through the pantry. To my horror, I couldn't find it.“Baby, you know you have a hole in your underwear?” she asked teasingly.“Yeah,” I said, more embarrassed than ever.Finally, I found the flour and turned around quickly so that she couldn't see the hole any longer. I thought about tossing the flour box to her but decided against it. I walked quickly, trying to cover my crotch area with the flour box, trying not to be too obvious. When I got close to her, I extended it to her.“How bout you help me make them,” she said. It was now that I noticed that she was relishing in my discomfort. She had a hint of defiance in her eyes. I tried not to think about anything sexual, but my cock throbbed as I saw the cleavage.“I don't really know how to make them,” I said, trying to save myself from being so exposed.“That's okay, I'll teach you,” she replied quickly.She grabbed the box out of my hand, and then I saw her eyes shift down towards my pulsating cock. I looked down to see how clear my condition was; it was worse than I could imagine to my horror. My cock had become so hard and hot that I had not noticed the dark pulsating head peeking over the elastic band of my underwear.“Oh My!” my Aunt said almost in a whisper.Her left hand was covering her cleavage while the other hand still held the spatula. I rushed to cover it up with my hands, but the damage was done. I turned to run, but my Aunt caught my arm.“Honey, honey its okay,” she said quickly yet lovingly. “Just get a towel from that counter over there and umm, try covering up as best you can.” she said in the same tender tone.I made my way to the towel and went back to the table with the towel wrapped around my waist. I must have been a sad site sitting there at the table with my face in my hands.“Honey its okay,” I heard my Aunt say again as she slid a plate in front of me.I couldn't bring myself to look at her, and I wouldn't have had she not pleaded with me, “Look at me baby.”I slowly looked up to see her beautiful face. She was leaning over the table, and her cleavage was impossible not to look at. I was utterly hopeless, and she must have thought this as well because she let out a smile when she caught my stare.“I got an idea,” she sprung up all of a sudden.She turned around and untied her apron, then to my disbelief, she slid her shirt off. She wasn't wearing a bra, and I could see the sides of her breasts even as she faced away from me. Slowly she turned around, and my mouth dropped while my cock throbbed with renewed vigor.“See, now we are even,” she said smiling. She sat down across the table, and her tits swayed slightly as she set her plate before her. “Honey, you might be able to chew your food better if you close your mouth now and again,” she said coyly.I roused myself and tried to concentrate on my food. But kept looking up at Aunt Rose's incredible, round, soft tits sitting in front of me. Her nipples were timid now, but I could see them springing forward if given enough attention. Her aureoles were a shade darker than the rest of her skin, making it a little harder to breathe. She had a distinct tan line around her breasts. I wanted to fondle them more than ever and tuck my hand underneath them to feel their weight. Soon, however, breakfast was over, and my Aunt put her shirt back on.“Better not tell your dad… or your mom,” she said jokingly.“I won't,” I managed to say, my embarrassment virtually gone.“Now you better get out there and work some of that energy off,” she pointed cautiously at my crotch as she said this.“Will do,” I replied.“And one more thing hon,” she said as I started to walk out of the kitchen, “we need to get you some new underwear and jeans.”I managed to let out a small laugh and say, “Yeah I know.”[to be continued in ‘Mating Season']by Jism786 for Literotica

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

No sympathy For the empath, either It smells of either Mescaline, or ether It's just a dream, I mean I don't need referrals to therapy Serenity and peace Is all I'm screaming for The the fourth wall's broken The worlds up in arms I pretend to hold him in my arms, As I nod off, I forgot to block the thought watchers Got my VPN on, but An EMP is what we need To get the NPCs off Fuck then all, then Turn my phone off, tune out Or just doze off I need at lease a dose of Stone, You know, But won't bother It's awful/awesome I didn't wanna write it all, At all, but I got to Cause I been moving up Like the Jefferson's in Chicago Or was that New York? Imm unsure, Puzzles, importance and crosswords I can't run on no water and pasta So I'm awkward a short-stop Or stoped stored of breath, tripped over a cross a t the crosswalk, For once I'm iconic, The Beatles I'm all four of them Need some soft porn, Or a needle in side my arm This dude is harming me I need some fuckin armor from The opposite of God It's just obnoxious, He won't stop fucking up my block I guess nobody loves him Not even his mom Guess it's my son It's just another song it sonnet, If you're reading or watching it It's the opposite of love, Not hate, It's poverty Baby's all right Brooklyn Pretty little palace of disaster Pretty little patterns of — Whatever Tantrums, smashing Jack o lanterns Shadows, Hands that attach to the strings Allowing them to dance into dreams It seems these sacred places Have been ravaged And I have not been running But I don't have any money Wise than that It's less than zero Negatives I want to kill myself again Honestly, I see a way out it just Requires being tortured By people coughing. And motorcycles I might have seen my son for the last time At age five It's finally warm outside And everything's just Reminding me I'm struggling with poverty Nothing really matters cause I don't belong here Everything is wrong I just want blonde hair, Hurry up, God Assist me with a suicide I can take pride in Not an attempt, but The only success I'll ever have At anything At all -El Al Nothing moves the same After an unrequited love becomes a tragedy Or just a movie scene I want to scream for needing to be needed Then again Could die just to be dead Could go back To just be blacklisted Or a crackhead Doing magic tricks Pass I couldn't have ever imagined This fascination as of late Or making trance But anything can happen With the light switches on and off As the kite catches headwinds Or hedwig is getting bigger by the minute That just grows out of his head, But I wish it was a wig Like Kristen Pass Yes. Breathe deep into my lungs, These scenes of things So evil seeming, even to me Lucidity becomes as dreamily Eerie, intermittently meaningless, And then suddenly, However much later, Maddeningly attractive, As I am, in fact Attached to this project As menacingly handsome and devilish as he is I've decided, it's manageable, but clashes with my Moral standards and clasps with fabrications Lay hands on me and see what happens! —-okay… “Okay” Pass! I asked to be a rockstar and showrunner On the same blood soaked candles I took blood oaths Dancing in front of the fountain At rockafeller plaza, to no applause, Of course, Drinking monsters nonstop, Ontop of my skateboard I came back late to Boston And took a plane to Vegas early the next morning But somewhere deep in my Google Drive or documents Is me under a neon sign, Which reads a name I resigned from saying Until maybe I get signed I hate him, but hey, The name of the game is Mating Season, And lately I've been craving eggs and Mayonnaise instead of protein shakes and Crayons Wax on, wax off… Pass, but that last sentence didn't make sense It did.:: Oh, Yes, it did. Promise. You do some stupid shit. Okay, so I do stupid shit. Believe me, you do some stupid shit. Okay, I believe you. Don't believe me when I tell you things like that. What the fuck, Patrick, do you mean, even? I mean what I mean, but usually just— For me. I am you, I thought. Exactly: don't believe me. Okay? I don't believe you… Just—believe me. Believe me. Oh dang. So there really is no “Jimmy Fallon” No, there isn't it's just— Poor little Jimmy Fallon… What if— There is no “if”. Nobody has to ‘agree' to this project Sign the terms of agreement For what. You'll see.. stupid little bitch. *squints* What did you just say. (Walking away, mumbling) Nothing! Fucking idiot. What did you just say?! (Yelling) I said you're a fucking idiot, Fallon! You're a fucking lDi0T: Well, okay. lol NBC is not gonna let this fly at all. No, Jimmy, you cannot do this project. Well, that's alright. I quit. You can't quit. You have a contract. I don't—I'm out of my contract: On what grounds?! Conflict of interest! That's my say, isn't it? Is it? MORGUE. I bought a network! MY NAME IS— MAaaa!! WHATTTTTTT. The show's on! [A Cold Open] L E G E N D S {Enter The Multiverse} Fuck this kid. I'm gonna kill him. Kill what. Who. FALLON. GET IN HERE. Ah. [explitive] [‘THE FALLON' gets ‘FALLONED' by ELLEN DEGENERES] ELLEN YES. FINALLY, I'm in this bitch. [And other members of ‘THE HOSTS COLLECTIVE', a high ranking team in the ILLUMINATI FOREFRONT] Well, not in the way I'm sure you'd hoped, but. Shutthefuckup! Oh wait—is she Is it “she” Is she a lesbian?! What's the “Illuminati”— We'll get back to that later. No! gross! Portia Derossi! Huh? I want to be that pretty! Well, okie. MEANWHILE, In my actual own age group… I'm older than all these hosts, anyway! Even Leno? Isn't he dead already?! Exactly! EVEN STEVENS [BEANS is now VEGAN] Why is vegan capitalized. Cause it's important. Hey buddy! Don't call me buddy. I'm edging on 40. Time flies when you're— Rapidly aging? I brought you some bacon. You what: It's farm fresh! Kooldjredalert Lie to me Try to sleep (In my arms, won't you) Try to keep the Time with My heart Beat (Heavenly) I've been living in your world for just over a month, now. I'm sorry, Fallon. That must be awful. Not too sorry— Some of this stuff is good. Just, priceless. Wouldn't trade it for the world. But I've hung my head in shame, Cause I hung myself with gratitude, Haven't you had enough? If it makes any difference at all, And I'm betting it does All I wished for a wanted and prayed Was for you to be happy I buy burners with trackers Put burn holes in sweaters The summit at the plummet, pulling forwards And backwards I've four words for parlors, For barbers and hatchets I bury the four suns, The moon arose after I left an Oscar on your alter this morning Never shall ye rest, Haven't ever then, Paid the tythe, And for the while, Immortal wife and lover, Mother daughter, Soon to call your name and number, However, The fall from the drop of polish, Of course, oil marks upon canvases Sickness and swells of my Hands upon your corset Could you collide with another? Doubtful, to that, So shall it must be List, but never to utter A mustard seed; Ground, then unground— As if planted, Simple, As the seed of laughter So then, would you By the turn of the hour, return to the one had you called Lover, A curse upon the Coerced and responsible A blonde, But worse, A pretty one For never after happens out of nowhere Now, Dissociate, Before I dissipate of Loneliness Hark, The door opens for one, A bold soldier to come, Listen lover, The stone has been Suspended, by the mirror In terror Alarmed, Cool you are now Calm, however Not abound to be lie Or below Bound by blood There you are In excelsior, Predecessor What would you want that for— The camera obscured; Why, If only, To look upon you Plastered and enlarged As you are Endangered in my imagination A dangerous and strange, Dangling addiction Fascination, now With power, And prowess Come now, The midnight hour is upon us [his body hung from the rafters above the studio, just one lamp left aglow—and then suddenly I had awakened, his body still and resting, sleeping quietly—although the hanged man burned into my mind; I left him quietly as I could in the loft and sat with nothing in my mind at all at the canvas, brush in hand, as if I were to draw something—but could not. It was almost as if I was frozen, or even perhaps the canvas were instead a mirror, and I the painting —though I could not know. My dearest Patrick was a broken man, and I his broken lover—the both of us an atrocity at all in shambles—I wept inwardly but not outward, as not to wake him as my tears often did, even from a deep sleep. The sun was far from rising, and though I had barely slept at all, I felt I would never sleep again—I fell at my tilted alter as the sun rose, in prayer and devastation; What had I done?] —Esha's Memoirs, the journals from The Altar You know what, kid— You've got something. I don't know what it is, But it's something. Kid? Aren't we like, the same age? No. I'll tell you what I've got I've got a seven year old kid I haven't seen in two years; I've got a sink full of dishes I've got credit card debt and school loans I've got racist neighbors, An ex husband who swears he never hit me With a brand new baby I've got Extreme back pain I've got a body only God could ever love And I've got something like 10,000 pages or more Of stuff I barely remember writing Just sitting in the Google algorithm Pushing me closer and closer to suicide Every single day I've got Sexual fantasies about celebrities for no given reason at all. I've got 800 songs that are just words I've got books I want to read just— sitting there And I've got this pain That just sits inside my soul That never goes away, ever I've got something, alright. I've got something, sure But when it comes to money I got a dollar One fucking dollar And you know what I call that? -Useless. She's dead, isn't she? You guessed it. Well, what am I supposed to do? What you always do. What is that? What is that? Swear of the palm d ore I Cannes, Atop the Eiffel You are the river that crosses my eye, The scar across my heart, The Eye, is All we are And all is one; One is all, And All are One Well, I'm quite nervous. Don't be nervous, at all, Johnny. Relax. Another John—my first, in fact. Indeed, I was once relentlessly obsessed With Johnny Depp Infatuated, if you will Whatever you want to call it. Of course, For a teenaged girl, however This sort of obsession was somewhat normal Somewhat. I had always wanted to star in movies— So much so that I began to write them. I was about 7, maybe 8 when the stories in my headed started to form as narratives— Not just stories, but words Characters and conversations— Plots. I should leave this poor Fallon boy alone. Some darkness inside of me wants him; That thing that doesn't quiet, nor does it want, Anything but what it wants— And it is, Darkness-m— That thing that lives inside of me and what is does; The thing it calls love, and calls our for The something in someone that rises it up From wherever it dwells, Deep in my soul, and into my hear, Into my thoughts, It haunts all that I must and mustn't Ponder upon A woman's cause, And a murderer of sorts, The ugly swan , who dances on ponds, Laying one one, but all of precious stones, The egg, The coveted stones of trust, And wander, Listing upon that which it feeds, Not only the bod, But its motor, It's mind, A hearty philosopher, And willful warrior, Of wit, And of talent, The strength of Astonishment A power above all, A blindness of fate; Judged by all The spectacular amongst us The famed and the damned, Acquitted of warmth and dutiful, Exquisite in awe A rarity. —The Fame Files. V.O. Coming to terms with one's death is always peaceful. All harm caused will be returned by he/she who causes it or acts in such a way as to inflict pain and hostility towards peaceful persons. Causing with intention psychological, physical, mental, or physical harm will result in the immediate karmic retaliation of such pain as inflicted on peaceful individuals; these acts of war will inhibit the actor from entering the transcendence, or developing expanded consciousness, gaining wealth, further material possessions–his own will is therefore weakened, and therefore unworthy of love himself, by the intent to cause one such pain as an act of violence or ill will. One's disruption of peace is thereby an act of cruelty, punishable beyond death–causing pain by intention to another individual in the attempt of control or manipulation, intrusion, and abuse is therefore against the laws by which the ascended abide by, and therefore cannot and will not exist beyond the ill fate of its perpetrator. Please leave me alone; I'm asking you nicely. Alright, fine. Where is it! Where is what? You know what. What? From the fountain. It wasn't me! I don't have it. And this, is why Jimmy Fallon is impenetrable. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

No sympathy For the empath, either It smells of either Mescaline, or ether It's just a dream, I mean I don't need referrals to therapy Serenity and peace Is all I'm screaming for The the fourth wall's broken The worlds up in arms I pretend to hold him in my arms, As I nod off, I forgot to block the thought watchers Got my VPN on, but An EMP is what we need To get the NPCs off Fuck then all, then Turn my phone off, tune out Or just doze off I need at lease a dose of Stone, You know, But won't bother It's awful/awesome I didn't wanna write it all, At all, but I got to Cause I been moving up Like the Jefferson's in Chicago Or was that New York? Imm unsure, Puzzles, importance and crosswords I can't run on no water and pasta So I'm awkward a short-stop Or stoped stored of breath, tripped over a cross a t the crosswalk, For once I'm iconic, The Beatles I'm all four of them Need some soft porn, Or a needle in side my arm This dude is harming me I need some fuckin armor from The opposite of God It's just obnoxious, He won't stop fucking up my block I guess nobody loves him Not even his mom Guess it's my son It's just another song it sonnet, If you're reading or watching it It's the opposite of love, Not hate, It's poverty Baby's all right Brooklyn Pretty little palace of disaster Pretty little patterns of — Whatever Tantrums, smashing Jack o lanterns Shadows, Hands that attach to the strings Allowing them to dance into dreams It seems these sacred places Have been ravaged And I have not been running But I don't have any money Wise than that It's less than zero Negatives I want to kill myself again Honestly, I see a way out it just Requires being tortured By people coughing. And motorcycles I might have seen my son for the last time At age five It's finally warm outside And everything's just Reminding me I'm struggling with poverty Nothing really matters cause I don't belong here Everything is wrong I just want blonde hair, Hurry up, God Assist me with a suicide I can take pride in Not an attempt, but The only success I'll ever have At anything At all -El Al Nothing moves the same After an unrequited love becomes a tragedy Or just a movie scene I want to scream for needing to be needed Then again Could die just to be dead Could go back To just be blacklisted Or a crackhead Doing magic tricks Pass I couldn't have ever imagined This fascination as of late Or making trance But anything can happen With the light switches on and off As the kite catches headwinds Or hedwig is getting bigger by the minute That just grows out of his head, But I wish it was a wig Like Kristen Pass Yes. Breathe deep into my lungs, These scenes of things So evil seeming, even to me Lucidity becomes as dreamily Eerie, intermittently meaningless, And then suddenly, However much later, Maddeningly attractive, As I am, in fact Attached to this project As menacingly handsome and devilish as he is I've decided, it's manageable, but clashes with my Moral standards and clasps with fabrications Lay hands on me and see what happens! —-okay… “Okay” Pass! I asked to be a rockstar and showrunner On the same blood soaked candles I took blood oaths Dancing in front of the fountain At rockafeller plaza, to no applause, Of course, Drinking monsters nonstop, Ontop of my skateboard I came back late to Boston And took a plane to Vegas early the next morning But somewhere deep in my Google Drive or documents Is me under a neon sign, Which reads a name I resigned from saying Until maybe I get signed I hate him, but hey, The name of the game is Mating Season, And lately I've been craving eggs and Mayonnaise instead of protein shakes and Crayons Wax on, wax off… Pass, but that last sentence didn't make sense It did.:: Oh, Yes, it did. Promise. You do some stupid shit. Okay, so I do stupid shit. Believe me, you do some stupid shit. Okay, I believe you. Don't believe me when I tell you things like that. What the fuck, Patrick, do you mean, even? I mean what I mean, but usually just— For me. I am you, I thought. Exactly: don't believe me. Okay? I don't believe you… Just—believe me. Believe me. Oh dang. So there really is no “Jimmy Fallon” No, there isn't it's just— Poor little Jimmy Fallon… What if— There is no “if”. Nobody has to ‘agree' to this project Sign the terms of agreement For what. You'll see.. stupid little bitch. *squints* What did you just say. (Walking away, mumbling) Nothing! Fucking idiot. What did you just say?! (Yelling) I said you're a fucking idiot, Fallon! You're a fucking lDi0T: Well, okay. lol NBC is not gonna let this fly at all. No, Jimmy, you cannot do this project. Well, that's alright. I quit. You can't quit. You have a contract. I don't—I'm out of my contract: On what grounds?! Conflict of interest! That's my say, isn't it? Is it? MORGUE. I bought a network! MY NAME IS— MAaaa!! WHATTTTTTT. The show's on! [A Cold Open] L E G E N D S {Enter The Multiverse} Fuck this kid. I'm gonna kill him. Kill what. Who. FALLON. GET IN HERE. Ah. [explitive] [‘THE FALLON' gets ‘FALLONED' by ELLEN DEGENERES] ELLEN YES. FINALLY, I'm in this bitch. [And other members of ‘THE HOSTS COLLECTIVE', a high ranking team in the ILLUMINATI FOREFRONT] Well, not in the way I'm sure you'd hoped, but. Shutthefuckup! Oh wait—is she Is it “she” Is she a lesbian?! What's the “Illuminati”— We'll get back to that later. No! gross! Portia Derossi! Huh? I want to be that pretty! Well, okie. MEANWHILE, In my actual own age group… I'm older than all these hosts, anyway! Even Leno? Isn't he dead already?! Exactly! EVEN STEVENS [BEANS is now VEGAN] Why is vegan capitalized. Cause it's important. Hey buddy! Don't call me buddy. I'm edging on 40. Time flies when you're— Rapidly aging? I brought you some bacon. You what: It's farm fresh! Kooldjredalert Lie to me Try to sleep (In my arms, won't you) Try to keep the Time with My heart Beat (Heavenly) I've been living in your world for just over a month, now. I'm sorry, Fallon. That must be awful. Not too sorry— Some of this stuff is good. Just, priceless. Wouldn't trade it for the world. But I've hung my head in shame, Cause I hung myself with gratitude, Haven't you had enough? If it makes any difference at all, And I'm betting it does All I wished for a wanted and prayed Was for you to be happy I buy burners with trackers Put burn holes in sweaters The summit at the plummet, pulling forwards And backwards I've four words for parlors, For barbers and hatchets I bury the four suns, The moon arose after I left an Oscar on your alter this morning Never shall ye rest, Haven't ever then, Paid the tythe, And for the while, Immortal wife and lover, Mother daughter, Soon to call your name and number, However, The fall from the drop of polish, Of course, oil marks upon canvases Sickness and swells of my Hands upon your corset Could you collide with another? Doubtful, to that, So shall it must be List, but never to utter A mustard seed; Ground, then unground— As if planted, Simple, As the seed of laughter So then, would you By the turn of the hour, return to the one had you called Lover, A curse upon the Coerced and responsible A blonde, But worse, A pretty one For never after happens out of nowhere Now, Dissociate, Before I dissipate of Loneliness Hark, The door opens for one, A bold soldier to come, Listen lover, The stone has been Suspended, by the mirror In terror Alarmed, Cool you are now Calm, however Not abound to be lie Or below Bound by blood There you are In excelsior, Predecessor What would you want that for— The camera obscured; Why, If only, To look upon you Plastered and enlarged As you are Endangered in my imagination A dangerous and strange, Dangling addiction Fascination, now With power, And prowess Come now, The midnight hour is upon us [his body hung from the rafters above the studio, just one lamp left aglow—and then suddenly I had awakened, his body still and resting, sleeping quietly—although the hanged man burned into my mind; I left him quietly as I could in the loft and sat with nothing in my mind at all at the canvas, brush in hand, as if I were to draw something—but could not. It was almost as if I was frozen, or even perhaps the canvas were instead a mirror, and I the painting —though I could not know. My dearest Patrick was a broken man, and I his broken lover—the both of us an atrocity at all in shambles—I wept inwardly but not outward, as not to wake him as my tears often did, even from a deep sleep. The sun was far from rising, and though I had barely slept at all, I felt I would never sleep again—I fell at my tilted alter as the sun rose, in prayer and devastation; What had I done?] —Esha's Memoirs, the journals from The Altar You know what, kid— You've got something. I don't know what it is, But it's something. Kid? Aren't we like, the same age? No. I'll tell you what I've got I've got a seven year old kid I haven't seen in two years; I've got a sink full of dishes I've got credit card debt and school loans I've got racist neighbors, An ex husband who swears he never hit me With a brand new baby I've got Extreme back pain I've got a body only God could ever love And I've got something like 10,000 pages or more Of stuff I barely remember writing Just sitting in the Google algorithm Pushing me closer and closer to suicide Every single day I've got Sexual fantasies about celebrities for no given reason at all. I've got 800 songs that are just words I've got books I want to read just— sitting there And I've got this pain That just sits inside my soul That never goes away, ever I've got something, alright. I've got something, sure But when it comes to money I got a dollar One fucking dollar And you know what I call that? -Useless. She's dead, isn't she? You guessed it. Well, what am I supposed to do? What you always do. What is that? What is that? Swear of the palm d ore I Cannes, Atop the Eiffel You are the river that crosses my eye, The scar across my heart, The Eye, is All we are And all is one; One is all, And All are One Well, I'm quite nervous. Don't be nervous, at all, Johnny. Relax. Another John—my first, in fact. Indeed, I was once relentlessly obsessed With Johnny Depp Infatuated, if you will Whatever you want to call it. Of course, For a teenaged girl, however This sort of obsession was somewhat normal Somewhat. I had always wanted to star in movies— So much so that I began to write them. I was about 7, maybe 8 when the stories in my headed started to form as narratives— Not just stories, but words Characters and conversations— Plots. I should leave this poor Fallon boy alone. Some darkness inside of me wants him; That thing that doesn't quiet, nor does it want, Anything but what it wants— And it is, Darkness-m— That thing that lives inside of me and what is does; The thing it calls love, and calls our for The something in someone that rises it up From wherever it dwells, Deep in my soul, and into my hear, Into my thoughts, It haunts all that I must and mustn't Ponder upon A woman's cause, And a murderer of sorts, The ugly swan , who dances on ponds, Laying one one, but all of precious stones, The egg, The coveted stones of trust, And wander, Listing upon that which it feeds, Not only the bod, But its motor, It's mind, A hearty philosopher, And willful warrior, Of wit, And of talent, The strength of Astonishment A power above all, A blindness of fate; Judged by all The spectacular amongst us The famed and the damned, Acquitted of warmth and dutiful, Exquisite in awe A rarity. —The Fame Files. V.O. Coming to terms with one's death is always peaceful. All harm caused will be returned by he/she who causes it or acts in such a way as to inflict pain and hostility towards peaceful persons. Causing with intention psychological, physical, mental, or physical harm will result in the immediate karmic retaliation of such pain as inflicted on peaceful individuals; these acts of war will inhibit the actor from entering the transcendence, or developing expanded consciousness, gaining wealth, further material possessions–his own will is therefore weakened, and therefore unworthy of love himself, by the intent to cause one such pain as an act of violence or ill will. One's disruption of peace is thereby an act of cruelty, punishable beyond death–causing pain by intention to another individual in the attempt of control or manipulation, intrusion, and abuse is therefore against the laws by which the ascended abide by, and therefore cannot and will not exist beyond the ill fate of its perpetrator. Please leave me alone; I'm asking you nicely. Alright, fine. Where is it! Where is what? You know what. What? From the fountain. It wasn't me! I don't have it. And this, is why Jimmy Fallon is impenetrable. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

No sympathy For the empath, either It smells of either Mescaline, or ether It's just a dream, I mean I don't need referrals to therapy Serenity and peace Is all I'm screaming for The the fourth wall's broken The worlds up in arms I pretend to hold him in my arms, As I nod off, I forgot to block the thought watchers Got my VPN on, but An EMP is what we need To get the NPCs off Fuck then all, then Turn my phone off, tune out Or just doze off I need at lease a dose of Stone, You know, But won't bother It's awful/awesome I didn't wanna write it all, At all, but I got to Cause I been moving up Like the Jefferson's in Chicago Or was that New York? Imm unsure, Puzzles, importance and crosswords I can't run on no water and pasta So I'm awkward a short-stop Or stoped stored of breath, tripped over a cross a t the crosswalk, For once I'm iconic, The Beatles I'm all four of them Need some soft porn, Or a needle in side my arm This dude is harming me I need some fuckin armor from The opposite of God It's just obnoxious, He won't stop fucking up my block I guess nobody loves him Not even his mom Guess it's my son It's just another song it sonnet, If you're reading or watching it It's the opposite of love, Not hate, It's poverty Baby's all right Brooklyn Pretty little palace of disaster Pretty little patterns of — Whatever Tantrums, smashing Jack o lanterns Shadows, Hands that attach to the strings Allowing them to dance into dreams It seems these sacred places Have been ravaged And I have not been running But I don't have any money Wise than that It's less than zero Negatives I want to kill myself again Honestly, I see a way out it just Requires being tortured By people coughing. And motorcycles I might have seen my son for the last time At age five It's finally warm outside And everything's just Reminding me I'm struggling with poverty Nothing really matters cause I don't belong here Everything is wrong I just want blonde hair, Hurry up, God Assist me with a suicide I can take pride in Not an attempt, but The only success I'll ever have At anything At all -El Al Nothing moves the same After an unrequited love becomes a tragedy Or just a movie scene I want to scream for needing to be needed Then again Could die just to be dead Could go back To just be blacklisted Or a crackhead Doing magic tricks Pass I couldn't have ever imagined This fascination as of late Or making trance But anything can happen With the light switches on and off As the kite catches headwinds Or hedwig is getting bigger by the minute That just grows out of his head, But I wish it was a wig Like Kristen Pass Yes. Breathe deep into my lungs, These scenes of things So evil seeming, even to me Lucidity becomes as dreamily Eerie, intermittently meaningless, And then suddenly, However much later, Maddeningly attractive, As I am, in fact Attached to this project As menacingly handsome and devilish as he is I've decided, it's manageable, but clashes with my Moral standards and clasps with fabrications Lay hands on me and see what happens! —-okay… “Okay” Pass! I asked to be a rockstar and showrunner On the same blood soaked candles I took blood oaths Dancing in front of the fountain At rockafeller plaza, to no applause, Of course, Drinking monsters nonstop, Ontop of my skateboard I came back late to Boston And took a plane to Vegas early the next morning But somewhere deep in my Google Drive or documents Is me under a neon sign, Which reads a name I resigned from saying Until maybe I get signed I hate him, but hey, The name of the game is Mating Season, And lately I've been craving eggs and Mayonnaise instead of protein shakes and Crayons Wax on, wax off… Pass, but that last sentence didn't make sense It did.:: Oh, Yes, it did. Promise. You do some stupid shit. Okay, so I do stupid shit. Believe me, you do some stupid shit. Okay, I believe you. Don't believe me when I tell you things like that. What the fuck, Patrick, do you mean, even? I mean what I mean, but usually just— For me. I am you, I thought. Exactly: don't believe me. Okay? I don't believe you… Just—believe me. Believe me. Oh dang. So there really is no “Jimmy Fallon” No, there isn't it's just— Poor little Jimmy Fallon… What if— There is no “if”. Nobody has to ‘agree' to this project Sign the terms of agreement For what. You'll see.. stupid little bitch. *squints* What did you just say. (Walking away, mumbling) Nothing! Fucking idiot. What did you just say?! (Yelling) I said you're a fucking idiot, Fallon! You're a fucking lDi0T: Well, okay. lol NBC is not gonna let this fly at all. No, Jimmy, you cannot do this project. Well, that's alright. I quit. You can't quit. You have a contract. I don't—I'm out of my contract: On what grounds?! Conflict of interest! That's my say, isn't it? Is it? MORGUE. I bought a network! MY NAME IS— MAaaa!! WHATTTTTTT. The show's on! [A Cold Open] L E G E N D S {Enter The Multiverse} Fuck this kid. I'm gonna kill him. Kill what. Who. FALLON. GET IN HERE. Ah. [explitive] [‘THE FALLON' gets ‘FALLONED' by ELLEN DEGENERES] ELLEN YES. FINALLY, I'm in this bitch. [And other members of ‘THE HOSTS COLLECTIVE', a high ranking team in the ILLUMINATI FOREFRONT] Well, not in the way I'm sure you'd hoped, but. Shutthefuckup! Oh wait—is she Is it “she” Is she a lesbian?! What's the “Illuminati”— We'll get back to that later. No! gross! Portia Derossi! Huh? I want to be that pretty! Well, okie. MEANWHILE, In my actual own age group… I'm older than all these hosts, anyway! Even Leno? Isn't he dead already?! Exactly! EVEN STEVENS [BEANS is now VEGAN] Why is vegan capitalized. Cause it's important. Hey buddy! Don't call me buddy. I'm edging on 40. Time flies when you're— Rapidly aging? I brought you some bacon. You what: It's farm fresh! Kooldjredalert Lie to me Try to sleep (In my arms, won't you) Try to keep the Time with My heart Beat (Heavenly) I've been living in your world for just over a month, now. I'm sorry, Fallon. That must be awful. Not too sorry— Some of this stuff is good. Just, priceless. Wouldn't trade it for the world. But I've hung my head in shame, Cause I hung myself with gratitude, Haven't you had enough? If it makes any difference at all, And I'm betting it does All I wished for a wanted and prayed Was for you to be happy I buy burners with trackers Put burn holes in sweaters The summit at the plummet, pulling forwards And backwards I've four words for parlors, For barbers and hatchets I bury the four suns, The moon arose after I left an Oscar on your alter this morning Never shall ye rest, Haven't ever then, Paid the tythe, And for the while, Immortal wife and lover, Mother daughter, Soon to call your name and number, However, The fall from the drop of polish, Of course, oil marks upon canvases Sickness and swells of my Hands upon your corset Could you collide with another? Doubtful, to that, So shall it must be List, but never to utter A mustard seed; Ground, then unground— As if planted, Simple, As the seed of laughter So then, would you By the turn of the hour, return to the one had you called Lover, A curse upon the Coerced and responsible A blonde, But worse, A pretty one For never after happens out of nowhere Now, Dissociate, Before I dissipate of Loneliness Hark, The door opens for one, A bold soldier to come, Listen lover, The stone has been Suspended, by the mirror In terror Alarmed, Cool you are now Calm, however Not abound to be lie Or below Bound by blood There you are In excelsior, Predecessor What would you want that for— The camera obscured; Why, If only, To look upon you Plastered and enlarged As you are Endangered in my imagination A dangerous and strange, Dangling addiction Fascination, now With power, And prowess Come now, The midnight hour is upon us [his body hung from the rafters above the studio, just one lamp left aglow—and then suddenly I had awakened, his body still and resting, sleeping quietly—although the hanged man burned into my mind; I left him quietly as I could in the loft and sat with nothing in my mind at all at the canvas, brush in hand, as if I were to draw something—but could not. It was almost as if I was frozen, or even perhaps the canvas were instead a mirror, and I the painting —though I could not know. My dearest Patrick was a broken man, and I his broken lover—the both of us an atrocity at all in shambles—I wept inwardly but not outward, as not to wake him as my tears often did, even from a deep sleep. The sun was far from rising, and though I had barely slept at all, I felt I would never sleep again—I fell at my tilted alter as the sun rose, in prayer and devastation; What had I done?] —Esha's Memoirs, the journals from The Altar You know what, kid— You've got something. I don't know what it is, But it's something. Kid? Aren't we like, the same age? No. I'll tell you what I've got I've got a seven year old kid I haven't seen in two years; I've got a sink full of dishes I've got credit card debt and school loans I've got racist neighbors, An ex husband who swears he never hit me With a brand new baby I've got Extreme back pain I've got a body only God could ever love And I've got something like 10,000 pages or more Of stuff I barely remember writing Just sitting in the Google algorithm Pushing me closer and closer to suicide Every single day I've got Sexual fantasies about celebrities for no given reason at all. I've got 800 songs that are just words I've got books I want to read just— sitting there And I've got this pain That just sits inside my soul That never goes away, ever I've got something, alright. I've got something, sure But when it comes to money I got a dollar One fucking dollar And you know what I call that? -Useless. She's dead, isn't she? You guessed it. Well, what am I supposed to do? What you always do. What is that? What is that? Swear of the palm d ore I Cannes, Atop the Eiffel You are the river that crosses my eye, The scar across my heart, The Eye, is All we are And all is one; One is all, And All are One Well, I'm quite nervous. Don't be nervous, at all, Johnny. Relax. Another John—my first, in fact. Indeed, I was once relentlessly obsessed With Johnny Depp Infatuated, if you will Whatever you want to call it. Of course, For a teenaged girl, however This sort of obsession was somewhat normal Somewhat. I had always wanted to star in movies— So much so that I began to write them. I was about 7, maybe 8 when the stories in my headed started to form as narratives— Not just stories, but words Characters and conversations— Plots. I should leave this poor Fallon boy alone. Some darkness inside of me wants him; That thing that doesn't quiet, nor does it want, Anything but what it wants— And it is, Darkness-m— That thing that lives inside of me and what is does; The thing it calls love, and calls our for The something in someone that rises it up From wherever it dwells, Deep in my soul, and into my hear, Into my thoughts, It haunts all that I must and mustn't Ponder upon A woman's cause, And a murderer of sorts, The ugly swan , who dances on ponds, Laying one one, but all of precious stones, The egg, The coveted stones of trust, And wander, Listing upon that which it feeds, Not only the bod, But its motor, It's mind, A hearty philosopher, And willful warrior, Of wit, And of talent, The strength of Astonishment A power above all, A blindness of fate; Judged by all The spectacular amongst us The famed and the damned, Acquitted of warmth and dutiful, Exquisite in awe A rarity. —The Fame Files. V.O. Coming to terms with one's death is always peaceful. All harm caused will be returned by he/she who causes it or acts in such a way as to inflict pain and hostility towards peaceful persons. Causing with intention psychological, physical, mental, or physical harm will result in the immediate karmic retaliation of such pain as inflicted on peaceful individuals; these acts of war will inhibit the actor from entering the transcendence, or developing expanded consciousness, gaining wealth, further material possessions–his own will is therefore weakened, and therefore unworthy of love himself, by the intent to cause one such pain as an act of violence or ill will. One's disruption of peace is thereby an act of cruelty, punishable beyond death–causing pain by intention to another individual in the attempt of control or manipulation, intrusion, and abuse is therefore against the laws by which the ascended abide by, and therefore cannot and will not exist beyond the ill fate of its perpetrator. Please leave me alone; I'm asking you nicely. Alright, fine. Where is it! Where is what? You know what. What? From the fountain. It wasn't me! I don't have it. And this, is why Jimmy Fallon is impenetrable. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

This week, I'm very excited to bring back the great Nell Minow to the podcast. An accomplished lawyer & a highly readable film critic at her site MovieMom.com & RogerEbert.com, where she's also an editor, Nell Minow has written over 3,000 movie reviews since the 1990s. She's also authored several terrific film books, including 101 Must See Movie Moments & The Movie Mom's Guide to Family Movies. Passionate about classic movies & character actors, this episode - devoted to the brilliant, 6-time Oscar-nominated actress Thelma Ritter - gave Nell the perfect opportunity to combine 2 of her favorite interests. Offering listeners an appreciative overview of Ritter's career, in this sunny conversation, we focus on her acclaimed, singular performances in the films THE MATING SEASON, PICKUP ON SOUTH STREET, REAR WINDOW, & PILLOW TALK.Theme Music: Solo Acoustic Guitar by Jason Shaw, Free Music Archive Shop Watch With Jen logo Merchandise in Logo Designer Kate Gabrielle's Threadless ShopDonate to the Pod via Ko-fiOriginally Posted on Patreon (5/29/24) here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/105182602

Mating Season

EPISODE 29 - “Jan Sterling: Old Hollywood Star of the Month” - 04/01/2024 Our “Star of the Month” is the fabulous JAN STERLING, who was married to our March “Star of the Month,” PAUL DOUGLAS. Blonde, beautiful, and often deadly on screen, Sterling started in theatre, but made a name for herself portraying tough dames, femme fatales, and sexy seductresses in films such as “Caged,” “Ace In the Hole” and “The High and the Mighty.” However, her upbringing was quite different from these wayward women she played so convincingly; she was actually from a very wealthy and prominent family. She had a stellar career, but many heartbreaks off camera. This week, we discuss the life and career of this most memorable lady.  SHOW NOTES:  Sources: Jan Sterling: Everything You Need To Know (2014), by Billy Vasquez; The Encyclopedia of Film Actors (2003), by Barry Monush; The Illustrated Who's Who of the Cinema (1983), by Ann Lloyd and Graham Fuller; Quinlan's Illustrated Registry of Film Stars (1986), by David Quinlan; “Jan Sterling, 82, Blonde Actress Who Made Film Noir A Specialty” Obituary, March 29, 2004, The New York Times; IMDBPro.com; Wikipedia.com; Movies Mentioned:  Tycoon (1947), starring John Wayne, Laaine Day, and Anthony Quinn; Johnny Belinda (1948), starring Jane Wyman, Lew Ayres, and Agnes Moorhead; Caged (1950), starring Eleanor Parker, Agnes Moorhead, and Faye Emerson; Appointment With Danger (1950), starring Robert Walker and Joan Leslie; The Mating Season (1950), starring Gene Tierney, John Lund, and Thelma Ritter; Ace In The Hole (1951), starring Kirk Douglas; Rhubarb (1951), starring Ray Miland; Flesh and Fury (1952), starring Tony Curtis; Sky Full of Moon (1952), starring  Split Second (1953), starring Stephen McNally; Pony Express (1953), starring Charlton Heston and Rhonda Fleming; The Vanquished (1953), starring John Payne and Coleen Gray; Alaska Seas (1954), starring Robert Ryan; The High and the Mighty (19543), starring John Wayne, Robert Stack, Claire Trevor, and Laraine Day; Woman's Prison (1955), starring Ida Lupino, Pyllis Thaxter, Audrey Totter, and Howard Duff; Female on the Beach (1955), starring Joan Crawford and Jeff Chandler; The Harder They Fall (1956), starring Humphrey Bogart and Rod Steiger; 1984 (1956), starring Edmond O'Brien and Michael Redgrave; The Female Animal (1958), starring Hedy Lamar, Jane Powell, and George Nader; Kathy O (1958), starring Dan Duryea and Patty McCormick; High School Confidential (1958), starring Russ Tamblyn and Mamie Van Doren; Love In A Goldfish Bowl (1961), staring Fabian, Tommy Sands, and Majel Barrett; The Incident (1967), Starring Martin Sheen, Beau Bridges, and Tony Musante;  The Minx (1969), starring Robert Roden and Shirley Parker; First Monday in October (1981), Starring Walter Matthau and Jill Clayburgh; --------------------------------- http://www.airwavemedia.com Please contact sales@advertisecast.com if you would like to advertise on our podcast. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Chris Anchor, senior wildlife biologist with the Forest Preserves of Cook County, joins Lisa Dent to talk about what people should know about coyotes, as their mating season is underway. Anchor discusses what owners of small dogs should know about coyotes and why you shouldn’t leave them unattended. Follow The Lisa Dent Show on Twitter:Follow […]

If you run into a coyote this month, remind it that humans are scary by making noise and waving your arms. Don't leave out food for them, don't let your dog run loose outside — and play talk radio.Host - Jon HansenReporter - Kayleigh PadarREAD MORE HERE To read more on this and other stories, head to BlockClubChicago.org New Goal Update:Block Club Chicago is participating in NewsMatch, an annual campaign that aims to bolster support of nonprofit newsrooms across the nation and fill the gaps news deserts have left.Block Club has participated in the national NewsMatch campaign every year since we launched. The campaign matched donations dollar to dollar to our newsroom. But because of our newsroom's growth (thanks to you!) and the growth of nonprofit news, our newsroom doesn't qualify for matching support from foundations this year.Our newsroom is a recipient of the DEI Partner Fund supported by the Knight Foundation and Heising-Simons Foundation. They are generously donating $8,000 that will contribute to our year-end donation goal.On November 1, we set an ambitious goal to raise $20,000 and reached it in 20 days thanks to the generous support of our readers. We're moving the meter to see if we can double ourinitialgoal by December 31.Every time we've asked for your support, you've never let us down. Help us reach our new goal of $40,000.We're also looking for donors to match their contribution to help us raise even more money from participating in NewsMatch. Offering a match is a powerful tool for our newsroom because it incentivizes other readers to give. The more money we raise, the more we can reinvest in putting reporters on the ground and covering the stories that matter most to you.No donation is too small to match. If you're interested in matching your donation, please reach out to Maple Walker Lloyd at maple@blockclubchi.org.

While many humans were wooing their partners for Valentine's day yesterday, you might have heard the call of frogs. Yes, the mating season for the common frog has coincided with Valentine's day for the last few years, but their mating rituals means both male and female frogs are more exposed and vulnerable than usual. Collie Ennis is the Science Officer with the Herpetological Society of Ireland, and a Zoology research associate at Trinity College in Dublin, and he's leading a campaign to help protect the amorous amphibians...

Steve Dale, WGN Radio host and animal expert, joins John Landecker on the show to give us the top dog names of the year. Later on, we hear from Steve about coyote mating season and what we can expect. Did you know that of all cities in the United States, Chicago has the largest wild […]

Welcome to Drinking Alone, With Friends, and Happy New Year! After discussing our plans for 2024 and thinking about 2004, we drink some beers to wring out the old year. Finally we decide to end the episode with some more madlibs. Cheers! Transcription Three Handles on Our Frosty Mug of Wisdom T-Pain Twitch Rap Nomatic Notebook Reese's Stuffed With Pieces Follow us: Instagram YouTube Facebook Discord  - Join to drink beer, spirits or wine with us!  Support our Beer Buying Habits on Patreon (don't forget to subscribe to drink with Chris while he drinks a Bud Light Chelada!) Chris' Twitch Stream e(nvelope)-mail us! Click here to let Jordan know your breakfast choices Special Thanks to the following for being AWESOME! Jordan of the Wreck My Podcast! crew! Jake for being a great Friend, Twitch Mod and Trader of Beers! Sal for being the best letter writer/Tud challenger/beer sender ever! Larissa for being the ULTIMATE handle giver of the podcast! Shea for becoming a ROCKSTAR patron!

Tonight the boys are back at it to talk about the great Christine Sinclair, Ohtanis free agency, drafting in the modern era of sport, why there seem to be no good goaltenders in the NHL, the greatest sports moments we've seen in our lifetime, some would you rather and a whole lot more. Strap in for the first episode of the holiday season, sit back, grab a few beers and let's get into ‘er! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Female European common frogs employ complex behaviors to resist unwanted male advances during mating, a recent scientific study has revealed. This research challenges the conventional notion that female frogs merely passively submit to male coercion.  Guest: Dr. Carolin Dittrich, Behavior Ecologist at the University of Veterinary Medicine Vienna Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Join your favorite Inebriated Oracles this week, as they celebrate Cerrome's latest iconic accolade, talk about music, and their most closely held grudges. Follow the Oracles on Twitter: [Cerrome](http://twitter.com/cerromerussell) [Gordon](http://twitter.com/bakerbone) [Melanie](http://twitter.com/thegates0fmel) And of course, don't forget to support us on [Patreon](http://patreon.com/badadviceshow)! --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/badadviceshow/support

Jenny talks about what she keeps seeing on TikTok, Dave's Dirt, No Phone Screener Friday, We prank out boss, & More!

Oooh boy there's a lot of spiders around right now. Actually they're always around, just not obvious to you. If spiders freak you out.. Just take it easy.. There's really no need. Just ask the Burke Museum's Rod Crawford…he's been correcting arachnids bad wrap for decades in the ‘Spider Myths' section of the Burke Museum website.We visited him at the Burke to talk about the spiders we're seeing right now and to try to coexist with them… and maybe even enjoy them.We can only make Seattle Now because listeners support us. You have the power! Make the show happen by making a gift to KUOW: https://www.kuow.org/donate/seattlenowAnd we want to hear from you! Follow us on Instagram at SeattleNowPod, or leave us feedback online: https://www.kuow.org/feedback

Dr Michel Dugon, Principal Investigator of the Venom System Lab at the University of Galway.

After having this discussion about nature, Kimmy might have to explain her google search history to the company's engineers. 

Photo: Bullockers 1906. No known restrictions on publication. @Batchelorshow #OzWatch: Python wrestling in snake mating season. Jeremy Zakis, New South Wales. #FriendsofHistoryDebatingSociety https://www.9news.com.au/national/snake-news-two-large-pythons-filmed-wrestling-on-aussie-beach-as-experts-sound-snake-season-alarm/2299744e-392b-43c5-99a4-869ead6db9cc

Hunting is right around The Bend. Learn what you need to be doing now to be ready and how the big game numbers are looking. Mating season, we share what animals to avoid and enjoy from afar. This is Rebecca Wanner aka BEC and Jeff ‘Tigger' Erhardt with the radio show The Bend Show, your news outlet for the latest in the Outdoors & Western Lifestyle! EPISODE 143 DETAILS BEC & Tigger intro the show reminding all that we know everyone is hitting the lakes, rivers and pool trying to stay cool; but beware of others. Watchout for each other, studies have recently showed that much fewer people know how to swim then in previous generations. Stay cool, Stay safe.  Welcome to your Outdoors & Western Lifestyle news outlet, The Bend Radio Show & Podcast available on SiriusXM Rural Radio Channel 147, AM / FM Radio, and on all Podcast Players. SPOTLIGHT Dinner in The Dark?? A New Jersey chef has launched a new promotion called “Dinner in the Dark” at his restaurants! WHAT a fun idea!? If you dare… Chef David Burke blindfolds diners before serving them a five-course meal. Approximately 12 or 15 years ago during a Wine & Food Festival, David Burke, had tried the idea and it didn't go so well. HOWEVER he never let go of the concept and has now launched these unique dinner experiences. An example of a meal is of course while blindfolded, diners have been served truffles, puree, broccoli, heirloom tomatoes, cookies, parfaits and candied fruit. The dinner costs $100. NOW we've brought you this creative concept from Chef David Burke, so now I'm going to challenge you and your cooking skills. On your next family dinner, campout or dinner party; consider doing something of the “like”. Let's see first how TRUSTWORTHY you are deemed by your friends and family, but then also, I see this as a fantastic way fun way to have a dinner conversation like no other plus puts your cooking skills to the test! NEWS TRY THAT IN A SMALL TOWN After the Jason Aldean backlash across the nation by some, according to Whiskey Riff; Luke Bryan and Jason Aldean's Nashville restaurant has removed CMT from their televisions after CMT announced it would no longer be airing Aldean's video for “Try That In A Small Town.” A statement was released by E3 Chophouse saying as follows, “We stand with Jason! E3 supports the small town because that is who we are! We will not air CMT at any of our restaurants until a formal apology is made and Jason's music video is reinstated.” We too are in support of Jason Aldean, love his hit song that has been playing on country radio for months alre ady. Whether you are from a small town or not, we all strive to be better people and live in a community that supports one another. That's America. Head to our website TheBendShow.com to watch Jason Aldean's video for his latest hit, “Try That In A Small Town.” EMBED FACEBOOK POST: https://www.facebook.com/e3chophousenashville/posts/pfbid02nPot2guQW7uCXgmLVK3qGB7dMW8Q4JQvh2cMmtoE8jKCU169JjU9PFZ3t9jzwVpil EMBED ALDEAN VIDEO: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b1_RKu-ESCY MATING SEASON We have all seen the jokes, the funny memes of Don't Pet the Fluffy Cow… So in case you have not heard, two national parks thus far in recent weeks have had horrific incidents regarding people and bison or buffalo. The woman in North Dakota visiting Theodore Roosevelt National Park is recovering from injuries to her stomach and foot after having been charged. In Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming, there a bison gored a woman. Please Please, regardless if you are familiar with these types of animals, new to the terrain, landscape or otherwise these are great reminders. It is Mating Season across many areas for a diverse group of animals, not just bison or buffalo. Big Game to livestock such as bulls breeding cattle. Do not cross fences, do not tempt fate! PUMPKIN SPICE BEER? Ready or not, those fans or haters of Pumpkin Spice; there is a new brew of another kind about to hit the shelves while it's still HOT outside. Samuel Adams has plans to kick off fall early by releasing already on August 1st a new pumpkin ale called Jack O. This this Pumpkin Spice Beer is a Shandy Jack-O Pumpkin Ale will have aromas of cinnamon and nutmeg, that has a fall balance with a crisp, refreshing finish. https://www.samueladams.com/our-beers/limited-release/pumpkin-ale/jack-o FISH FOR SUPPER? Sportsmen and women, Anglers and Fishermen or women you will love this latest study! Canada's University of Guelph has wrapped up a recent studdy that reveal eating fish not just LOWERS your risk of hearing loss, it slashes your risk of going deaf! Omega-3 levels in 100,000 people were studied, found the results were astounding. People with high levels of Omega-3 and consumed fish on a regular basis; were 16 upwards to almost 20% LESS likely to have hearing issues later in life. It does not end there, the study also revealed that hearing trouble, especially when there was background noise in a room… People were 11% less likely to have trouble hearing. Impressive results, and with us all loving our sports fishing or just tossing in a line; these stats definitely show it may be worth to consider adding Fish into our weekly diet.   BIG GAME HUNTING   Hunter or Fall Hiker - PREP NOW Conditioning our bodies, carrying heavy packs, and building up endurance must always be a top priority when planning a successful hunt or hiking trip. The trails taken during the fall season are often not on an actual path. Be working your full body, including breaking in those boots, to ward off the misfortune of a stumble, trip or fall on the trail.   Feature: Josh Miller Owner & Hunting Guide Business: Antler J Outfitting Location: Chadron, Nebraska Contact: antlerjoutfitting@gmail.com Facebook: @Antler J Outfitting https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100087509552641  Book Hunts: Assortment of Rifle, Archery, and More!   Tigger is joined by Josh Miller to talk about what the outlook looks like in the Panhandle of Nebraska and Eastern Colorado for big game animals. They tackle what you should be doing now to prepare for your much-anticipated hunting adventure and offer tips too.   Buffalo Hunting Ever dreamed of chasing something even bigger in North America? What about hunting buffalo or bison? Antler J Outfitting offers personalized guided buffalo hunts on their private ranch. An experience to remember, and best shared with another. This is a hunting expedition you'll want to learn more about! The meat from buffalo or bison is incredible and very healthy. Considered a leaner meat, it cooks like beef and without the game taste of deer. A once in a lifetime kind of hunt right here in the United States.   SUMMER RECIPE: DESSERT   HERE'S WHAT'S COOKING WITH BEC SUMMER Fruit Fondue Pizza Style BEC's at it again, playing in the kitchen and having fun with her nephews, niece, and friends. What are things that ALL folks love? Pizza. AND Fruit. And what's even more refreshing in the summer, is Fruit Pizza! Here's the idea!  Bake or buy palm-size sugar cookies. Then set up your table or buffet line with first your “Sauce” aka a sweetened cream cheese spread. Can add coloring & other flavors such as strawberry if you want to a “red sauce” and then “vanilla” or “almond” to the “white sauce”. Once guests spread their sugar crust pizza cookie with the sauce have an assortment of fresh fruits, dipping sauces like chocolate or hot fudge warmed in small pots, or if an older crowd even toss in a small open flame to toast a quick marshmallow and sprinkle that combination with crushed graham crackers. All types of fruits, mixed nuts, and even fun candied sprinkles for the kids will make this an Unforgettable Fruit Pizza Fondue! FIELD REPORTS & COMMENTS Call or Text your questions, or comments to 305-900-BEND or 305-900-2363 Or email BendRadioShow@gmail.com FOLLOW Facebook/Instagram: @thebendshow SUBSCRIBE to The Bend YouTube Channel.   Website: TheBendShow.com https://thebendshow.com/ #catchBECifyoucan #tiggerandbec #outdoors #travel #cowboys The Outdoors, Rural America, And Wildlife Conservation are Center-Stage. AND how is that? Because Tigger & BEC… Live This Lifestyle. Learn more about Jeff ‘Tigger' Erhardt & Rebecca Wanner aka BEC here: TiggerandBEC.com https://tiggerandbec.com/   WESTERN LIFESTYLE & THE OUTDOORS Tigger & BEC are News Broadcasters that represent the Working Ranch world, Rodeo, and the Western Way of Life as well as advocate for the Outdoors and Wildlife Conservation. Outdoorsmen themselves, this duo strives to provide the hunter, adventurer, cowboy, cowgirl, rancher and/or successful farmer with the knowledge, education, and tools needed to bring high-quality beef and the wild game harvested to your table for dinner. They understand the importance in sharing meals with family, cooking the fruits of our labor and fish from our adventures, and learning to understand the importance of making memories in the outdoors. Appreciate God's Country. United together, this duo offers a glimpse into and speaks about what life truly is like at the end of dirt roads and off the beaten path. Tigger & BEC look forward to hearing from you, answering your questions and sharing in the journey of making your life a success story. Adventure Awaits Around The Bend.   REFERENCES https://www.ksby.com/news/local-news/it-hurts-ya-central-coast-wineries-prepare-for-another-heat-wave https://news.uoguelph.ca/2023/07/nutrition-prof-shares-omega-3-research-with-daily-mail-online/

What Ho! Jeeves (sometimes written What Ho, Jeeves!) is a series of radio dramas based on some of the Jeeves short stories and novels written by P. G. Wodehouse, starring Michael Hordern as the titular Jeeves and Richard Briers as Bertie Wooster. The stories were adapted for radio by Chris Miller, except the last two novels featured in the series, which were dramatised by Richard Usborne. The series was first broadcast from 1973 to 1981 on BBC Radio 4. GSMC Classics presents some of the greatest classic radio broadcasts, classic novels, dramas, comedies, mysteries, and theatrical presentations from a bygone era. The GSMC Classics collection is the embodiment of the best of the golden age of radio. Let Golden State Media Concepts take you on a ride through the classic age of radio, with this compiled collection of episodes from a wide variety of old programs. ***PLEASE NOTE*** GSMC Podcast Network presents these shows as historical content and have brought them to you unedited. Remember that times have changed and some shows might not reflect the standards of today's politically correct society. The shows do not necessarily reflect the views, standards, or beliefs of Golden State Media Concepts or the GSMC Podcast Network. Our goal is to entertain, educate, and give you a glimpse into the past

What Ho! Jeeves (sometimes written What Ho, Jeeves!) is a series of radio dramas based on some of the Jeeves short stories and novels written by P. G. Wodehouse, starring Michael Hordern as the titular Jeeves and Richard Briers as Bertie Wooster. The stories were adapted for radio by Chris Miller, except the last two novels featured in the series, which were dramatised by Richard Usborne. The series was first broadcast from 1973 to 1981 on BBC Radio 4. GSMC Classics presents some of the greatest classic radio broadcasts, classic novels, dramas, comedies, mysteries, and theatrical presentations from a bygone era. The GSMC Classics collection is the embodiment of the best of the golden age of radio. Let Golden State Media Concepts take you on a ride through the classic age of radio, with this compiled collection of episodes from a wide variety of old programs. ***PLEASE NOTE*** GSMC Podcast Network presents these shows as historical content and have brought them to you unedited. Remember that times have changed and some shows might not reflect the standards of today's politically correct society. The shows do not necessarily reflect the views, standards, or beliefs of Golden State Media Concepts or the GSMC Podcast Network. Our goal is to entertain, educate, and give you a glimpse into the past

What Ho! Jeeves (sometimes written What Ho, Jeeves!) is a series of radio dramas based on some of the Jeeves short stories and novels written by P. G. Wodehouse, starring Michael Hordern as the titular Jeeves and Richard Briers as Bertie Wooster. The stories were adapted for radio by Chris Miller, except the last two novels featured in the series, which were dramatised by Richard Usborne. The series was first broadcast from 1973 to 1981 on BBC Radio 4. GSMC Classics presents some of the greatest classic radio broadcasts, classic novels, dramas, comedies, mysteries, and theatrical presentations from a bygone era. The GSMC Classics collection is the embodiment of the best of the golden age of radio. Let Golden State Media Concepts take you on a ride through the classic age of radio, with this compiled collection of episodes from a wide variety of old programs. ***PLEASE NOTE*** GSMC Podcast Network presents these shows as historical content and have brought them to you unedited. Remember that times have changed and some shows might not reflect the standards of today's politically correct society. The shows do not necessarily reflect the views, standards, or beliefs of Golden State Media Concepts or the GSMC Podcast Network. Our goal is to entertain, educate, and give you a glimpse into the past

What Ho! Jeeves (sometimes written What Ho, Jeeves!) is a series of radio dramas based on some of the Jeeves short stories and novels written by P. G. Wodehouse, starring Michael Hordern as the titular Jeeves and Richard Briers as Bertie Wooster. The stories were adapted for radio by Chris Miller, except the last two novels featured in the series, which were dramatised by Richard Usborne. The series was first broadcast from 1973 to 1981 on BBC Radio 4. GSMC Classics presents some of the greatest classic radio broadcasts, classic novels, dramas, comedies, mysteries, and theatrical presentations from a bygone era. The GSMC Classics collection is the embodiment of the best of the golden age of radio. Let Golden State Media Concepts take you on a ride through the classic age of radio, with this compiled collection of episodes from a wide variety of old programs. ***PLEASE NOTE*** GSMC Podcast Network presents these shows as historical content and have brought them to you unedited. Remember that times have changed and some shows might not reflect the standards of today's politically correct society. The shows do not necessarily reflect the views, standards, or beliefs of Golden State Media Concepts or the GSMC Podcast Network. Our goal is to entertain, educate, and give you a glimpse into the past

What Ho! Jeeves (sometimes written What Ho, Jeeves!) is a series of radio dramas based on some of the Jeeves short stories and novels written by P. G. Wodehouse, starring Michael Hordern as the titular Jeeves and Richard Briers as Bertie Wooster. The stories were adapted for radio by Chris Miller, except the last two novels featured in the series, which were dramatised by Richard Usborne. The series was first broadcast from 1973 to 1981 on BBC Radio 4. GSMC Classics presents some of the greatest classic radio broadcasts, classic novels, dramas, comedies, mysteries, and theatrical presentations from a bygone era. The GSMC Classics collection is the embodiment of the best of the golden age of radio. Let Golden State Media Concepts take you on a ride through the classic age of radio, with this compiled collection of episodes from a wide variety of old programs. ***PLEASE NOTE*** GSMC Podcast Network presents these shows as historical content and have brought them to you unedited. Remember that times have changed and some shows might not reflect the standards of today's politically correct society. The shows do not necessarily reflect the views, standards, or beliefs of Golden State Media Concepts or the GSMC Podcast Network. Our goal is to entertain, educate, and give you a glimpse into the past

I would like to thank everyone that has donated or otherwise supported Nature is my Jam by liking, following, sharing and/or subscribing to the podcast. Your support goes directly to creating future episodes and allows this podcast to be ad-free and 100% listener supported. Your kindness means the world to me and I hope you might feel inspired to explore the natural areas where you live.Greetings! Let's talk about the barred owl mating season in northern Michigan. It's a pretty exciting time for these nocturnal birds, and things can get lively out there in the forest. Mating lasts from February to April. The male barred owls become incredibly vocal during this period and create various sounds to draw in the female barred owls. They will use loud noises such as hooting, barking, and screaming in order to make their thoughts and feelings known. We humans, much like many other species, take the time to groom ourselves before heading out on a night of revelry and adventure. Once a male has caught the attention of a female, the real show begins. He'll do all kinds of courtship displays like bowing, bobbing, and swaying. And if that's not enough, he'll even bring her gifts as food offerings. As Sade famously sang, he's a smooth operator! The saxophone solo makes it true. If all of this impressed the female, the two lovebirds will mate and she'll lay 2-4 eggs in a tree cavity or an abandoned nest. Both parents will take turns incubating the eggs and caring for the young once they hatch, which usually happens after around 30 days.All in all, the barred owl mating season is a pretty important time for these birds. Without successful reproduction, their populations in northern Michigan could be in trouble. So, let's wish them luck as they navigate the trials and tribulations of love in the forest!I recorded this episode near my home on the Muncie Lakes Pathway. This is one of my favorite areas to go birding and hike the trails. In fact, I recorded the very first episode of this podcast in the same location. Knowing there was going to be gusting wind through the overnight, I opted for the Audio-Technica BP4025 microphone. I have great wind protection gear for this microphone in the Rycote Windshield and the Rycote Windjammer. While not perfect, this configuration does a respectable job in blocking the wind. It's probably not a surprise at this point in our journey, but I used the Zoom F3 Field Recorder to capture the owls and coyotes. I can't say enough good things about the Zoom F3 and reach for it nearly every trip into the forest. Support the showThanks for listening! ❤️ Your support means the world to me. Follow me on Instagram and Twitter for daily updates.

In the early edition: Suspect arrested in Pico Robertson shooting, California approaches 100,000 COVID deaths, Staying safe during coyote mating season, and more.Support the show: https://laist.com

Today: Amtrak Pacific Surfliner to resume service this weekend between South Orange County and San Diego; State transportation agency allocates $407M to fund Inglewood Transit Connector; Attorneys for the family of Anthony Lowe have filed a claim against the city of Huntington Park. The fence around Echo Park Lake is officially coming down; Winter is coyote mating season; The Grammys are back in Los Angeles after relocating last year's ceremony to Las Vegas, and more. Support for this podcast is made possible by Gordon and Dona Crawford, who believe that quality journalism makes Los Angeles a better place to live.  Support the show: https://laist.com

Episode 105- BY & Motts are back to answer all of your questions on this week's mailbag episode! Prior to dipping into the mailbag the guys chat about their weekends and some stories that came across their timelines. Then they react to a bunch of your questions some of which included topics like: More mating season questions Poor reactions in the handshake line A good time enjoying the present Spring hockey concern + much more! BY & Motts wrap up the show answering the My Hockey Rankings question of the week. Thank you for listening! Please rate, review, and subscribe! If you're interested in sponsoring the show, please reach out to us by email or DM us on Instagram! Leave us a voicemail: 347-6-SHRINK Email: RinkShrinks@gmail.com Instagram: @TheRinkShrinks Twitter: @RinkShrinks Website: www.therinkshrinks.com Today's Episode Was Sponsored By: Pro Stock Hockey Sparx Hockey TSR Hockey Franklin Sports Cross Country Mortgage My Hockey Rankings

Season 4 kicks off with those classic little green men that the paranormal community can't get enough of: Leprechauns! We trace the origins of Leprechauns up to the modern day, from the saga of Fergus mac Léti to Warwick Davis. But is there any truth to the tales of the gold-loving fae folk? And if Shibble was going to write a Leprechaun movie, what would it be like? Only one way to find out: tune in! Just remember, don't get spooked!

Episode 101- BY & Motts are back with a fresh mailbag episode this week! Before answering all of your questions the guys recap the awesome feedback we have gotten for episode 100, catch up on what went on around the rinks, and BY shares a tire changing story. Then the guys dip into the mailbag to answer your questions some of which included: Choosing a high school program Determining roles Parents allowing unnecessary actions Coaches playing favorites The My Hockey Rankings question of the week + much more! BY & Motts wrap up the show wishing you all a Happy Holidays! Thank you for listening! Please rate, review, and subscribe! If you're interested in sponsoring the show, please reach out to us by email or DM us on Instagram! Leave us a voicemail: 347-6-SHRINK Email: RinkShrinks@gmail.com Instagram: @TheRinkShrinks Twitter: @RinkShrinks Website: www.therinkshrinks.com Today's Episode Was Sponsored By: Pro Stock Hockey Sparx Hockey TSR Hockey Franklin Sports Cross Country Mortgage My Hockey Rankings

Last year I was so excited to be one of the four invited guest speakers to celebrate the one year anniversary of Mating Season written by Lexi Sylver. During the anniversary event I had the pleasure and honor to read part of "Trick Shot" one her erotic stories which was so sexy and an amazing experience. Although completely out of my comfort zone reading out loud in front of others, I was able to absorb and feel the energy of the other guests as well. Since then, I've formed such amazing relationships that I absolutely cherish.   After the book anniversary I invited Lexi Sylver to be a guest on The Mizzy Bender Show, my audible podcast. Time and hectic schedules put a bit of a delay on the broadcast of the episode... BUT its time to release the beast!   To learn more: www.LexiSylver.com   Background: Who doesn't love to talk about sex and everything in between? Mizzy Bender is here to talk through all the down, dirty and not so fun moments that life has to offer. Mizzy is one female that isn't afraid to embrace all aspects of life from sexuality to success.   Mizzy Bender is a 39 year old female entrepreneur and influencer leading the way within the Swingers / Alternative Lifestyle community. Mizzy's journey started out with Mindbender Parties and still remains traveling the East Coast putting on full thematic swinger events with her partner in crime, Mr. Mindbender. Mizzy's passion and drive is all about creating an environment that is all inclusive and judgment free, where we can be who we are without question. Where one can have a platform to talk about the things we are curious about without question, finding like minded humans to love and support one another.   Through this journey, Mizzy's Boutique was formed. An adult novelty shop starting out online and has since migrated into a traveling pop up boutique at swingers / alternative lifestyle events across the US.

Last year I was so excited to be one of the four invited guest speakers to celebrate the one year anniversary of Mating Season written by Lexi Sylver. During the anniversary event I had the pleasure and honor to read part of "Trick Shot" one her erotic stories which was so sexy and an amazing experience. Although completely out of my comfort zone reading out loud in front of others, I was able to absorb and feel the energy of the other guests as well. Since then, I've formed such amazing relationships that I absolutely cherish.   After the book anniversary I invited Lexi Sylver to be a guest on The Mizzy Bender Show, my audible podcast. Time and hectic schedules put a bit of a delay on the broadcast of the episode... BUT its time to release the beast!   To learn more: www.LexiSylver.com Interview launching Tuesday, 10/29/2022   Background: Who doesn't love to talk about sex and everything in between? Mizzy Bender is here to talk through all the down, dirty and not so fun moments that life has to offer. Mizzy is one female that isn't afraid to embrace all aspects of life from sexuality to success.   Mizzy Bender is a 39 year old female entrepreneur and influencer leading the way within the Swingers / Alternative Lifestyle community. Mizzy's journey started out with Mindbender Parties and still remains traveling the East Coast putting on full thematic swinger events with her partner in crime, Mr. Mindbender. Mizzy's passion and drive is all about creating an environment that is all inclusive and judgment free, where we can be who we are without question. Where one can have a platform to talk about the things we are curious about without question, finding like minded humans to love and support one another.   Through this journey, Mizzy's Boutique was formed. An adult novelty shop starting out online and has since migrated into a traveling pop up boutique at swingers / alternative lifestyle events across the US.

Dean is back with Sarah Herron and if you thought finding love on The Bachelor was strange, wait until you meet Austin and Paige from “Love in the Jungle” on Discovery+!   We hear all about trying to make a romantic connection by embodying an animal and reenacting mating rituals. Does it work??   What animal would Sarah take on if she was sent to jungle? All is revealed! See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.