Podcasts about Patrician

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 25 Being Subversive Isn t As Much Fun As It Looks In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             Friends stand by you through the struggles your enemies create   "You are depraved and despicable," Mhain seethed. "I get that a lot; now get out," I growled back, "because I have a thousand other bitches who are, scratch that, 999 other bitches, Doctor Kennedy is growing on me; the rest I'm not so sure about, who are making my life miserable." "Don't get your hopes up, Mr. Braxton," Doctor Kennedy warned me. "I'm happily married." "Cool," I responded. "I hope to be like that one day." "Happily married?" Virginia inquired. "No; a female law professor at an all-girls school," I grinned. "It sounds like a real cool job." "Feel free to hit him," Dana interrupted. "I swear that is the only way to get him to learn anything; or the only way we will discuss at this moment." Ah, sex. I thought my life had gone on a bit too long without the mention of sex. "It is also a fun form of stress relief." A painful blow rocked my shoulder and nearly sent me sprawling. "You are right," Gabrielle noted clinically. "I feel better." Fuck, she hits hard. I look at her and try not to get pissed off and say something stupid. She makes my life difficult but my existence at FFU makes her life far too interesting as well. Whack! Someone hit me with a briefcase. "I have to agree," Doctor Kennedy confirmed. "It has a therapeutic quality to it." "Bloody hell," I blurt out. "Everyone, please stop physically abusing Zane," Ms. Goodswell snapped. "He's a student, for Pete's sake. He's not subject to corporal punishment." "Virginia, have you ever punched or slapped Zane?" Dana teased. "Give it a try before dismissing it out of hand." "He likes spanking," Barbie Lynn beamed happiness as she skipped by on her way to my/our bedroom. Technically, it is mine, Vivian's, Barbie Lynn's, Rio's, and Mercy's, plus whoever is feeling lonely on a given night. As for the spanking, I'm more of a giver than a receiver, but I doubt explaining that right now would be appropriate. "Uhmm, okay, I think that is my cue to leave," Virginia piped up. "I have rounds to make," Gabrielle added. "I'm going home to my family," Doctor Kennedy headed out. "I'm going to stay here, kick back, and watch some Pay-per-view," Dana grinned. "What are you going to watch?" Hudson inquired. "BBC America has this show called Copper that I've been meaning to catch," Dana informed her. "Mind if I watch an episode with you?" Hudson asked. "Sure, knock yourself out. You can pick the second show," Dana yawned. "It's only Zane's money after all." The rest of my guests filed out and I retired to the showers and then to my room. The day's stress revealed itself as the women curled into bed calmly and soon were cuddled together, including the odd ones out. On the far side we had the rather unusual appearance of Valarie. Next to her was Rio, who had her arms wrapped around Mercy. Mercy was snuggled against Barbie Lynn who held the middle spot. I was on my side, face-to-face with Barbie Lynn. After a few minutes, Vivian came to bed, wedged up against my back, and put an arm over me. I was in close proximity to several beautiful women but as long as no one doused the room with an aphrodisiac, we'd do just fine. "Zane," Barbie Lynn whispered, "my vibrator burned out this morning, and I'm terribly horny." Oh, fuck!   Barbie Lynn gazing down at me, I'm not sure another guy should ever see this because it could break one's heart to see it once and never again. She's built a faint sheen of sweat on her body already and she's looking at me with a definite Zen to fuck. My cock is cocooned deep inside her rectum, rubbing inside as she rotates forward on her hips. The distant, dreamy look in her eyes flashes to alertness as she catches me looking at her; 'hi' she whispers. I nod and smile so she inclines into me so that we can start kissing. She leads in with her tongue along my lips. I touch the tip of her tongue with my own, snaking inside her mouth before we are done. She starts murmuring, deepens our kiss, and begins rubbing my nipples. "Vivian?" Valarie says softly. She snuck around the bed to settle behind my guardian. "Yes?" Vivian replies. She is on her side watching Barbie Lynn and I. "I, umm, Valarie moans. Out of the corner of my eye I catch it as Val's hand brushes Vivian's hair off her neck and her lips start suckling on the exposed flesh. Vivian closes her eyes briefly but doesn't move Valarie away. "Oh, Baby," Barbie pants with barely an inch separating our lips, "I know I say this often but I so love this. You tear me up inside and I want it so bad all the time, it scares me." "Vaginal sex with you scares me," I tease back. "Will it be even better?" she draws in an even deeper, breast flaunting breath. "You never know, but you are so damn good at everything else, I can't imagine you doing anything but haunting my dreams forever," I say, as I coax her movements with my hands on her hips, flanks, and thighs. Barbie shows her appreciation by running her hand through my bangs and pushing my hair back so that she can cover my forehead, eyes and nose with kisses. "You like that romantic shit, don't you, Mercy-slut?" Rio grumbles playfully from the other side. "Yes," Mercy whispers. I know Rio well enough to know that when a spiteful reply isn't immediately forthcoming, she's dusting off (and unchaining) her Better Angel. Mercy is looking at Barbie Lynn and me, her head facing sideways as she lies on her back. Rio crawls on top of Mercy, prompting Mercy to open her legs, and locks her hands over her head to gaze down on her. "Your skin is so pure, your hair so black, and your eyes so full of passion, it breaks my heart to look at you, My Little Whore," Rio begins. She leans in and bites Mercy's earlobe, causing her victim to moan and buck up slightly. "Mercy, you give and give, making me so hot inside that I want to grab you and never let go." "Really?" Mercy gasps. "I, " "Don't get used to this," Rio growls with famished sexual enticement. "But, well, I want you to know that I hope all our children look just like you." Poor Rio was running out of material. It was terribly uncomfortable for me to show her where to go. I ran my hands over Barbie's body, which is an absolute torture I am forced to struggle through repeatedly. I start by massaging Barbie Lynn's tits, rotating three fingers over the nipples before rolling up the whole meaty breast in my palms. Barbie Lynn starts pushing back on my cock harder and grunting to the rhythm. "Damn, Mercy," Rio teases, "I love these titties." She accentuates by sucking the top third of one breast into her mouth and twirling her tongue around it. Vivian gives a visible shiver from her side of the bed; Valarie has done something to her beneath the sheets to turn her on. In the interim while I have been watching Rio and Mercy, Valarie has been working over Vivian, temple to shoulder, with her lips. Now I see Vivian pulling up her left (upper) leg until it is resting snugly against my upper ribs, giving someone easier access to her snatch. She's also put her left arm behind her back between herself and Valarie. I'm starting to wonder if there is something in the air filters of my place, some undiscovered aphrodisiac mold, fungi, or spores that turns nice, virtuous girls into promiscuous bi-sexual vixens. To the best of my knowledge and belief, neither Valarie nor Vivian had the slightest lesbian tendencies before they started coming to my room. I give Barbie Lynn's luscious orbs one final squeeze before migrating my hold down to her ass, giving each cheek a double-slap. Barbie Lynn exhales a huff of ecstatic relief as the impact travels through her. Rio smirks and follows suit, her hand reaching between their thighs, prying Mercy's leg up, up and up until Mercy's knee is nearly at her breast. "Your body is the first female form that I've ever lusted after," Rio murmurs as she rubs and pats Mercy's buttocks. "I think I've always wanted you, to taste you on my tongue, your scent strong in my mind and your sweet, sweet ass under my hand." Mercy brings one hand up to stroke Rio's cheek as she gives a strangled sob. No matter how much Mercy fears loving a woman, Rio can chisel that away and get her to love openly and freely. Barbie Lynn bounces up and slams down on me repeatedly as she is coming to the end of her fuse. "Zane, Zane, oh yeah," she pants. Vivian chooses this moment to sneak her climax in on the rest of us. I am vaguely aware of her biting her lip, rocking her hips under the sheets, and perspiration beginning to bead on her lower lip. "Holy God, Christ, and, my, hot damn, Val, ugh, Oh, God!" Vivian squeals as Valarie vigorously whips her hand in a tight pattern, cloaked from sight but obvious to the knowledgeable. Vivian's clit, lips, and the gateway to her cunt are all supers-stimulated. Valarie cools her down and holds her with enough strength to stop Vivian from rolling face-first into the sheets. "Jesus Loves Me!" Barbie Lynn screams one last time. Her body bows, her breasts thrust forward and up, bouncing so deliciously while her thighs tremble in climax. Her anal muscles rippling from sphincter toward my cockhead are grinding me toward orgasm. Finally, she collapses against me, still twitching and fighting for breath. With my arms wrapped around her, I roll us over toward Mercy and Rio, placing Barbie Lynn on her back. Barbie Lynn has her legs pulling back before I can even move to push them back. While I had never fully pulled out, I was nearly there. I shove my hips forward, forcing my cock back in hard, causing Barbie Lynn to grunt, her mouth to gape open, nostril flaring, as her eyes squeeze shut. "Oh, hell, yeah," Barbie Lynn gasps, "hammer me!" "Oh, fuck," Valarie moans, "I am so lonely." Vivian is still roaming her hands over Valarie's special place, picking up the pace as she's inspired by Barbie Lynn's passion. Rio expresses her perverse nature by going at Mercy slow while the rest of us are going gangbusters. "Here is my baby-smooth, tasty friend," Rio says as she kisses Mercy's bald twat. Rio pushes her thighs apart, her leg muscles taught while laying on the bed. Rio's restraint could only last so long. Every lick became more insistent, every nibble elicited a greater yelp, and every hip-thrust by Mercy into Rio's hungry mouth was more desperate. Valarie gives off one long, cavernous growl, then screams in between Vivian's shoulder blades. "Damn," Vivian whispers, as a sympathetic orgasmic shiver coasts through her body. I'm pushing up on my knuckles, Barbie Lynn's legs between them as I rise up until my bulbous head is fixed in her sphincter; then I slam down once more. She's rocking her hips up to maximize the depths I reach as she cries out, again and again and again. When I finally let go, I feel a volcano of lust, frustration, and fulfillment exploding out all at once. Barbie Lynn's head sways rapidly side to side as she comes unglued. "Zane, Jesus loves me, Jesus Loves Me!" she howls loud enough to shake the glass panels overhead. Those words ringing in my ears are going to haunt me in whatever church I go to. "Ugh, ugh, ugh, Love, right there, feels so good," Mercy drags out with shallow breathes. "Umm, Rio gurgles. Mercy has gotten quite wet and visibly aroused. I'm sure Rio has worked a finger or two into the action and in Mercy's ass. Mercy starts bouncing off the sheets as she hisses out the last of her restraint. "Mother-fucker-god-damn!" Mercy cries out. Rio growls, slurps, and sucks up Mercy's cunt juice while lapping up and down her slit. "That's my baby," Rio's fluid-marked face looks up from between Mercy's legs and smiles. "Was that good for you?" Rio asks? Mercy nods dreamily. "Are you a happy little whore?" Rio teases. Again, Mercy nods with pleasure. "Did you use the 'L' word, Ass-fuck slut?" Rio hardens. This time Mercy realizes her mistake and shudders. She raises her head and looks into Rio's eyes. "Yes. I'm sorry, Rio," Mercy mumbles. "Sorry isn't going to cut it this time, Bitch," Rio sneers. "Tomorrow morning you are going to get it coming and going, all day long." I am actually aware of what that threat means. "Okay," Vivian sighed, with more contentment than annoyance, "we've all cum so let's try and get some sleep." "I haven't gotten off yet," Rio chuckled. I knew what I had to do before someone else volunteered my services. "Come here, Rio." I smile to her and extend a hand. "Let me get another taste of my best bro." "I'll clean you up," Barbie Lynn grins up at me, as she wiggles her body around my own so she's on top again. She slithers down my torso, waggles my still mostly hard cock against her lips, then begins to take it into her mouth. Barbie Lynn's tongue licks along my shaft as she gobbles up more of my rod. I expect Rio to come over but Mercy, following along and lying on her belly, her head propped up on her hands and elbows as she watches my blonde angel's skilled fellatio, is a bonus. Rio ends up near my pillow, one hand on my chest and the other resting between Mercy's ass cheeks. Her fingers are definitely sliding in and out of Mercy's cunt. If Mercy is a bit sore, she's smart enough not to complain to her Mistress about it. "What do you have in mind, Zane?" Rio catches my gaze. "I want your teeth tearing up the mattress with your ass up in the air as I plow you through the headboard," I inform her. I make a focus group assessment of the situation by slipping a finger into her cunt, she's creaming already. For Rio, the greater physicality of the sex, the better it is for her. She'll let me have my foreplay and some good loving, but she goes wild over the raw, brutal act of sex itself. "I think you are ready to put that smile on her face," Barbie Lynn taunts Rio as she informs me she's finished. "Come with me," Barbie Lynn turns to Mercy. "My nipples need some attention. Can you do that for me?" After checking with Rio, Mercy gives a hungry look and lick of the lips at Barbie Lynn. Barbie crawls over Mercy to land on her back on the far side. Mercy twirls around and latches on to Barbie Lynn's left breast with such rapidity, it momentarily causes my visage to blur. "I want some of that," Valarie suddenly blurts out. She makes her own quick trek around Rio and me as we are still positioning ourselves to come swooping down on Barbie Lynn's right side. The right nipple disappears into our school biker girl's mouth with a decidedly audible smacking of the lips. Val's hand starts to stroke the inside of Barbie Lynn's thigh but Mercy's free hand reaches over and starts tweaking Valarie's closest nipple. Yes, I definitely must check the air filters. Rio resumes her sensually crawl my way and I give her a beguiling look to lure her in. I'm on her in a flash once she's close enough for me to make my move. She screeches like an alley cat but I've got a hand on the back of her head and the other on her hip as I slam her face first into the pillow. "Bastard," she screams through the fabric, but she's not following through with the anger. "Give it up, Bitch," I snarl back. My cock slides full-throttle all the way into her cunt on the first pass. Her cunt feels like slick, melted butter as I bottom out in her hole. At the same time, I let up on her head a bit. "Oh, fucking-A," Rio gasps. "Did someone sneak a gerbil up behind me or is it Needle-cock pretending he's a man?" I give her another powerful slam. "Oh, fuck, stop that." "What? Too much for the bitch whose had it all?" I tease Rio. "I swear, if I spit up, my ovaries," she chokes, "we are, going to have, words." "Words like I'm the best fuck you've ever had'?" I taunt Rio between packing her cunt as full and deep as I can. She's squealing and moaning yet thrusting back strongly against me all the way. I move my hand off Rio's hip and take hold of a breast, squeezing and torturing the nipple. She's snarling like a wounded tigress now. She possesses no acceptance of defeat, no surrender to exhaustion, and no fear of pain; in fact, what we are doing is a turn-on. I'm actually becoming beaten up by all the impact of my hips against Rio's ass. Within ten minutes, her fluids are all over her crotch and mine and she's actually starting to dribble down her thighs and onto the mattress. "Zane, don't forget she's your friend," Vivian sounds worried. "Shut, up," gasps Rio, violently and with passion. This is what Rio craves right now, a brutal fucking, and she's not going to be denied by Vivian's compassionate sensibilities. "Ah, fuck me, fuck me, break me, you bastard," Rio pants. "Hammer me, Bitch!" she screams, and that's all she can take. She has some sort of seizure, thrashing and pulsating all over the place. For the second time tonight I'm shooting my seed into a woman; this time Rio's cunt. I plunder Rio's barely responsive form for several more savage thrusts until I'm spent, collapsing with my full mass on top of her, which is not my normal form but I want Rio to feel warm and encompassed by me at this moment. I make sure that some of my weight is taken onto my knees and elbows so I don't suffocate my crazy best friend. "Zane," Rio pants a half-minute later, "that vice-like bump you were feeling with that horse-cock of yours, " "Yes?" I respond softly. I pull her hair out of her face as she turns it to the side so she can speak clearly. "That was my cervix, dumbass," she giggles. "Next time I want my uterus scrubbed, I'll call a fucking gynecologist." "Hardy-har-har," I chuckle. "Doing it with a Princess Barbie Pony Action Figure doesn't qualify as bestiality, you bimbo, and it certainly doesn't give you horse-cock experience." "Rio, you are kind of gross," Vivian chastises my buddy. "Thank you," Rio pants, "I knew you cared." "Behave, Rio, and next time it's going up your ass," I murmur into Rio's ear. "Oh, that's just cold, Bro," Rio pouts as she wiggles her tight ass against my semi-flaccid cock. "A person uses the threat of denying anal sex to a girl as a means of enforcing polite behavior," Vivian ponders as she flops on her back and stares up at the stars through the glass ceiling. "Worse, it makes sense to me. What has happened to my life?" "Rio, are you okay?" Mercy whispered. Rio turns her head the other way to address her lover: "My cunt is numb, my hips feel dislocated, I'll be pulling pillow fiber out of my teeth for a week, and I think he bruised a nipple, I feel fucking awesome." "I'd ask Zane to do it to me again but I know Vivian would choke me out," Rio snickers. "I know what I am going to do, though: In the morning I'm going to have Zane pounding your ass as hard as he fucked me right now so I can hear you cry and scream." "Um, okay," Mercy answered, trying not to sound too anxious. "Damn," Valarie mutters. "I hate being a virgin, and I'll pimp slap the first one who suggests anal sex. All I want to do is get laid without the repercussions." No one said anything for a minute. "I'll help with that," Barbie Lynn and I volunteered almost at the same time. "Bed," Vivian laid down the law. Thankfully, the rest of us were too tired to argue. POWER PLAYFULNESS At our five a.m. wake up, I swept up Valarie into a six-nine, her on top. Barbie quickly got behind Val and began licking my nose, the back of Val's cunt, and teasing her butthole with tiny probes. At first our biker babe resisted and grumbled with her mouth around my cock, but Barbie Lynn was as relentless as she was sensually enticing. Val returned the surprise by slamming her thighs together as the dam of her sexual frustration burst; she clamped her thighs tightly on my head and bucked so hard she bounced us off the bed as she screamed. There were no words to it; the scream was primal, violent and somewhat frightening. The other remarkable thing was that Barbie Lynn retained her hold on Valarie's ass cheeks and kept tongue-fucking Val's anus. Valarie's mouth had released my cock seconds before orgasm. She gave it an occasional swipe of the tongue until her last orgasmic quivers stopped. I motioned for Barbie to let up and when she did, Valarie collapsed beside me. "Oh," Valarie panted, "that was good. That should tide me over until lunch time." "Showers, everyone," Vivian reminded us. There were a few groans but cleanliness was an inevitable bonus for all of us, and Rio, if we bundled her up and took her squirming, griping form with us. Rio gained a measure of revenge by announcing to my shower buddies that I had an unresolved morning blowjob begging for attention. Brandi elbowed two girls aside to bend over at the waist and take me in. Opal was kind enough to stroke Brandi's kitty from behind, getting us off almost at the same time. Opal gave me several finger scoops of Brandi's nectar to slake my sexual thirst. I was busy getting a taste of Opal with a bonus clitoris massage when Iona dragged me away. Outside the showers, I bent down, wrapped my arms beneath Iona's towel-clad posterior, and lifted her up so that she was looking down at me. "Thank you," I smiled at her. "You've always got my back." "You are welcome," she beamed happiness back down at me, "and it is my pleasure, Zane. Do you think we can go motorcycle shopping Thursday?" "Sure, that won't be, oh fuck, it's Wednesday," I gasped. I realized I had confused Iona. "I told Erin I would call her Monday and totally lost track, of a woman," I blinked. "I don't think that's ever happened before." "You have a ton of things going on," Iona comforted me while hovering above me still. "I think she'll understand." "Thanks again, Iona," I sighed as I let her slide down my body. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" she asked. "Of course," I grinned. "Are you going to give me your scrumptious behind?" Iona's smile grew even brighter. "You will have to wait and see," she teased me before racing off to her room. I made my way up to my room for a short workout and a few minutes meditating. I was peripherally aware of Paige coming into my room and rummaging around (i.e., she wanted me to know she was there without noticeably ruining my concentration). The main distraction was Rio and Mercy getting dressed. They had both long since moved all their belongings into my place; that wasn't a problem because of the massive space I had. The problem was, it is insane to put two pseudo-lesbian young lovers who are new to their relationship into a space where they are constantly tantalized by each other's naked or scantily clad bodies. Mercy couldn't resist reaching out shyly and touching Rio's lesser erogenous zones. Rio couldn't resist bending Mercy over the bed, licking her from behind, and/or spanking her, just a few taps but that hardly helped them get their clothes on. Today, Rio added the extra complication of inserting a vibrating ass plug into Mercy's ass and taping a vibrating egg against her clit. She was finishing up the work when I felt a glimmer of evil intellect enter my mind. "Hey, Rio, why don't you do the same thing?" I suggested. "Are you going to ring my bell?" she teased me. "No. I actually thought you would share with Mercy," I clarified. "Share what?" Valarie questioned as she entered the room. "They are each going to have a vaginal and anal stimulation device, theoretically with the other having the controlling mechanism," Paige stated. She held up two pairs of bra & panties for me to examine, gossamer peach bow-knot or strawberry crotchless/cupless. "I don't know, Babe," I mused. "I'd have to see you naked to make a determination." "You've seen me naked, my Boy-toy," Paige gave a wicked turn of the lip. "I, I have no recollection of it," I confessed. "Maybe it was that blow Rio gave me upside my head. I guess I need to see your nude, nubile form once more." "Oh, my poor baby," Paige pouted. "Someone as helpless as you cannot afford to lose any of your already inadequate brain power. I really should help you out." She was knee crawling up the bed, unbuttoning her shirt. When she was only a few feet in front of me, she sat down and worked her skirt off as well. She wasn't naked; she still had her knee-high socks on. "You really ought to cover those little boobies up," Rio taunted Paige. "Someone is going to think Zane has a middle-schooler up here." Paige's head turned and I could feel her anger, but before she could spew forth her vitriol, I latched on hungrily to her closest teat and sucked it in on one gulp. Paige gasped and thrust her body against me. Soon her hands were running through my hair as I soaked up her tender flesh and swelling nipple. I also stroked my hands down her body. My left hand drifted from right below her suckled breast, along her smooth, flat stomach, before dropping south until I cupped her sex. My right hand went down the ribs and around to her ass. I weighed and fondled her small yet firm buttocks, then reached between her cheeks and rubbed over her sphincter without pressuring it. "Paige," I said quietly as I released her nipple, "today go with the peach." "Umm, maybe I will," Paige teased me with a nibble to my neck, "after all, there are a very few things you are good at, and female sexiness is one of them." "Paige?" I continued. She was a little more suspicious now. Our relationship had always been rocky. "I appreciate you giving me some space the last few days," I thanked her. "It has really helped me get my head on straight." Paige's eyes lit up once more. She had sacrificed (in her mind), and I had noticed and was grateful. "I'm surprised you noticed," she started to say, then abruptly softened. "You mean a lot to me, you really do." I put my hands on each side of her jaw and pulled her into close face-to-face contact. "Paige, bouncy, bouncy," I whispered into her ear. Paige gasped slightly and twisted her head to make eye contact, looking somewhat expectant. "Meet me for lunch and I'm going break that ass open," I taunted her quietly. Rocky the squirrel must have snuck up on me and then clubbed me with Bullwinkle the Moose because her response was, "Okay," while she looked at me with a mixture of fear and lust. "Are you sure?" I was curious. "If that is what you really want," Paige responded. "Oh, I don't want to do it until you feel ready, Paige. We'll wait," I confessed. "I will have to think of something else to do with you at lunch today." All Paige did was grin in a very mysterious way. She held that look until Valarie put a hand on each ass cheek and pulled them apart. This time, someone had snuck up on Paige. "Hey!" Paige gasped. "What are you doing?" "Encouraging you to get dressed," Valarie chuckled. "Otherwise, Zane and I are going to slip one finger into your pretty little cunt and rub them in and out like a buzz-saw. Then we will smear your juices over your face and force you to go to breakfast smelling like sex." My girls really need to work on their 'discouraging' speeches. "I should get dressed," Paige hiccupped with reluctance. "Peaches, got it." Paige scurried away and began dressing while eyeing Valarie and me. "Oh, yeah," I joked with Valarie, "that terrified her." "Ask her about the party; then it will make sense," Valarie snickered. In the annals of female migration through my bedroom, Vivian wasn't really sneaking up on anyone, but her presence didn't send up shockwaves of alarm either. "Zane, we need to be heading out soon," she greeted me. She greeted Valarie by putting a hand on her shoulder and rubbing it. Quickly enough, Paige got dressed, Rio and Mercy got their acts together, and we gathered up Iona, Barbie Lynn, Brandi and Opal before heading down to join the rest of feminine humanity that constituted my dorm. My old (way back in Chapter 3) buddy Easter Valentine had me rate the top ten Christian Rock bands which was made much more difficult by my utter disbelief that there was actually something called Christian Rock, color me biased. Breakfast passed uneventfully, as did Assembly, before things began happening. First off, I touched base with Erin now that she was most likely awake. "Hey Erin, this is Zane," I started off, "and I am so sorry that I blanked on my promise to call you. Can I make it up to you and Gerry?" "Oh,um,okay, I guess," she drew me out. "What do you have in mind?" That was a good question; what was I going to do to make it up to them? "Have you ever heard of the SYFY network?" I asked. "Sure, Eureka, Warehouse 13, Being Human, and Lost Girl," she answered. "Saturday night they are showing Ice Spiders versus Snow Beast, I know, great title; right? And I'd like it if you two would come over to my house, get some pizza, and watch it with me," I offered. "Let me think about it, yeah, we'd be glad to come by and eat something," I could feel her grin coming through the airwaves. "Okay, one more question; how do you feel about three-ways?" "I've never been part of one but I'm willing to give it a try," Erin sighed happily, "if I must." "It's a date, then," I agreed, and after trading 'goodbye's', I hung up and caught my crew gathering outside. As I made my approach I saw Heaven give me a look and a smile then turn on Rio. "Handmaiden's Duty, Rio," Heaven beamed maliciously. "What do you want, you old cow?" Rio sneered right back. "Give me your controllers." Heaven grinned as she held out her hand to Rio. Mercy gulped (the two boxes controlled her vibrators) and Rio looked stunned. "Hand them over." Technical Mercy would have been immune, except it was Rio with her controllers. "How?" Rio mumbled. She looked around for support but found some sympathetic eyes, not comrades in arms. She angrily slapped Heaven's palm as she handed them over. Heaven handed those two small white devices to Hope, then reached out toward Rio once more. "Give me the ones Mercy is holding for you, too," Heaven snickered. Rio snarled before motioning for Mercy to hand them over to her. In short order, she handed those over to Heaven as well. "I'll be expecting those back at ten o'clock (one hour from now)," Rio growled. "Of course," Heaven chuckled. "I'll see you then, Sweet-cheeks." "God damn it," Rio leaned into me and whispered, "who, ah, hmm, betrayed me?" Apparently, someone was playing with her controllers. By the way Mercy developed a little tremble and a blissful smile, someone was having a go at her too. "I swear to God, it wasn't me," I shrugged. "Well, it wasn't Iona, she'd never do that to Mercy," Rio mused, then, "Paige! That little cunt did this to me." "I don't know if she did it or not," I pleaded, "but please don't kill her." Rio was several seconds in responding as she wobbled slightly and skipped a step. "Two fucking vibrators," Rio glared at me. "What were you thinking?" "Liking it?" I teased. "Love it," Rio gasped. "Mercy?" "Mumph," Mercy gasped. Added to the smile on her lips, I had to see that as an affirmative. Ms.  Goodswell's class was good but what came afterwards was far more amusing. "What do you mean, you traded them to some random upperclassmen?" Rio snarled. "Oh, I had to explain what they did. When I told them they were inside you, they jumped at the chance," Hope nodded serenely to the furious Rio. "How am I, oh, oh, oh, yeah, supposed to get them back?" Rio fumed. "Maybe they will run out of power soon," Mercy put a positive spin on things. "I put long-life batteries in those bitches this morning," Rio grumbled. "They can go for 24 hours of continuous use." "I insisted that they be returned to Zane at nine this evening," Christina said in a detached manner. "I swear, I'm going to tie down all you bitches one weekend and then we will see who's so superior," Rio seethed; "Dildos and lube all around. Arrgh," Rio growled. She staggered over to the closest wall and put her hand against it to stop from falling over. "Some whore just discovered the '10' setting," she gasped. "I was going to say something cruel," Hope stated, "but now it would be redundant." "Rio and Mercy, stay hydrated," Chastity suggested. "I'll pick you up between classes to, decrease your difficulties." "Thanks, Chastity," I patted her arm. "Heaven and I will watch after Mercy," Christina chimed in; being surprisingly helpful to someone she had shown no interest in before now. Christina was all about responsibility and since this was Heaven's stunt (or so it seemed), she was doing 'the right thing'. "Classes everyone," Vivian insisted. Thankfully I had one capable adult in my life. I hoped that me turning her into a vibrant bi-sexual didn't change that. Today I received an hour's warning of my lunch appointment with Doctor Victoria Scarlett, our beloved Vice-Chancellor. I let Paige know that I had to postpone our get-together. "It is good to see you, she was going to say 'Mr. Braxton' but she was sensitive to my preferences, ", Zane. How are things going on this first full day of our experiment?" "Well, Doctor Scarlett, let me say that you are even more deftly beautiful than you are deceptively manipulative," I countered. "As to your question, my efforts to corrupt your intentions precede a pace." She smiled, shook her head, and walked around the table, stopping when she was in front of my chair-bound form. "Come now; the tribal elections have begun. Seven leaders have been named and the rest of the tribes should do the same tonight," she informed me. "What were you able to accomplish yesterday?" Oh, so that was today's tune. I stood up and cupped her facial cheeks. "What do you think you are doing?" Victoria Scarlett mumbled. I pressed in and kissed her, leading by example as opposed to words. Her hands pressed against me. She wasn't shoving so I didn't stop. Victoria didn't even make a token effort to keep her mouth shut, though her tongue refused to play an overly active part in my French kiss. My hands didn't wander and my body didn't thrust against her. "I think I'm working out our relationship, your Kahina to my Pelagius," I responded, our faces only inches apart. Victoria rested her hands on my hips so I placed mine on her shoulders. "Kahina, have you been reading my works?" she smiled far too seductively. You would figure that a dedicated, righteous Christian theoretician would have body proximity issues. Not Victoria, damn it. "The only things hotter than smart, sexy chicks are smart, sexy, and sensually lethal chicks," I allowed. "This could be construed as sexual harassment or inappropriate sexual behavior," Doctor Scarlett grinned, all bold and gracious. "A 'no' on your part would suffice," I assured her. "Not you, Zane; me," she corrected me. "You are my student, after all, and my hands are on your hips." I arched an eyebrow; she kept smiling so I went back in for a kiss. Three minutes later I had worked over her lips, eyelids, cheeks, jawline, and the left side of her neck, and it was getting me nowhere except closer to a sexual-deprivation induced coma. "Damn, you are good," I panted. "I think this is something we need to work through first before we can constructively move on," she related patiently. She was trying to break me with her highly developed self-control. I had to figure out what the hell I was doing wrong. Overt sexual contact, breasts, buttocks, pubic area, was off-limits, or was it? Lingerie; why did Scarlett wear racy lingerie? I slipped my arms around Victoria's waist and pulled her off the desk and into me. I caught a slight, over-confident smirk on her lips. We started kissing again, Scarlett somewhat passively, as always, and me out to disguise my intentions. She didn't protest when my fingers wandered below the beltline or when I traced out the very risqu lines of her panties. Fighting the urge to yank them up and make her squirm, I languidly let my fingers dig into her skirt and hook the bottom elastic of her panties, then slowly wiggled the fabric gently. She gave me a few uninterrupted seconds before I sensed her inner struggle begin; did she stop me and give me this round in the struggle, a psychological edge over her, or did she see if she could tough it out. She went with the spiritual resistance. Once I had my fingers inside, I could move freely forward and back. I avoided the cunt and the bottom of her ass. I was able to make the bottom of her panties a very tight fit, allowing the thrumming of my tugs to vibrate along her most sensitive spots. Victoria's nostrils flared, her breath caught, and after a daring but futile attempt to distract me with her tongue, she broke our lip embrace and put her head on my shoulder. I immediately stopped what I was doing and waited for her to speak. "Oh, this is not good," she muttered to herself. Then after a pause, "Thank you for stopping. How did you know what to do?" "Where to begin," I answered. "You are beautiful, passionate, and a woman who appreciates fine fabrics on your skin. I stopped because I'll fight you with every tool I can, but I won't violate you," I added. Victoria looked up into my eyes. "You see me as Kahina?" she changed the subject. "You have this tragic, fervent yet noble character that charges with a burning blade into the face of adversity," I waxed romantic. "The last Christian Queen of the Berbers who, when faced with the inevitability of her defeat, sent her sons to the enemy for their protection while she sought death in battle against the Islamic invaders." "I'm not very martial," she countered. "Ah, but in the Greco-Roman culture our faith grew up in, you would be considered a Patrician's daughter, versed in Socrates and Virgil as well as St. Augustine," I made my argument. "Besides, martial valor is in the job of the tribesmen; it is the job of the Queen to provide leadership, hopefully in the right direction. You are a smart damn cookie so the comparison is apt." "Thank you." She then pursued her agenda. "What have you been up to?" "I'm creating a democratic system with your tribal leaders as the parliament, a selected group of girls to become judges, and another group to become enforcers of the rule of law," I responded. "Technically, I remain the guy at the top of the pyramid, so that's a victory for you." Her look told me I hadn't made an end-run around her Grand Plan, which was pretty unsettling. I was missing something. "Why do you let me put my hands on you?" I questioned. "I can't take pleasure in the mannerisms of a proficient young man?" she countered. "Care to prove that?" I challenged. I had her in a minor trap of her own connivance. "Very well," she bowed with a smile on her lips. "Turn around and lean over your desk, if you dare?" I directed. She accepted my orders and did as requested. I knelt down behind her and placed my hands on her ankles before rubbing upward in slow but strong finger-furrows. I teased my way up to her stocking line, grinding the silk hose into her skin, making her flesh shiver from the stimulation. I had her trembling by the time I migrated upwards to the elastic at the top of the stocking, past the garter, and onto her pliant warm thigh. As I brushed against the tuck of her butt-cheek and thigh, Victoria moaned. "Stop," she whispered. "Do you really want me to stop," I inquired, "or do you want me to stop before you reveal something?" I ceased my activities, waiting on her reply. "You know the answer," she panted briefly. I moved off and up, placing my hands on her shoulders and pulling her back up to my chest. "Can you promise me to consider the possibility that a woman wants something outside the realm of motherhood and spiritual purity?" I suggested. Doctor Scarlett turned around while remaining in my grasp. "The body may feel a certain way but you must resist those impulses from the Devil," she told me. "Fortunately, you are the only one on campus that can elicit such response." "Huh? Seriously, I can only imagine the kind of sexual trouble the women on campus can get into, unless you don't believe in Sapphic impulses either," I grinned. "Homosexuality is a myth," Victoria stated firmly. "There are misdirected desires and abnormal passions, but men don't lie with men and women don't lie with women, except as a perversion of the normal, natural order of things." Oh, here we go again, I groaned. "I hate that you would think that way. It stands in opposition to God's Love in my eyes and portrays you as a weak creature given over to the Devil's lure of fearing, hating, and even denying what is mostly a good thing, namely, compassion for one another," I sighed. "How can you have compassion for instincts you can hardly understand?" she posed. "I've been with men before," I informed her; "on more than one occasion." "What?" Victoria was stunned. She struggled to get away from my arms and I let her. "You have such a strong ardor for so many female students. How can you be tricked into perverse practices?" On the bright side, I'd finally gotten under her cool exterior; on the downside, I had shaken her faith in me. "Can I incite a rational moment, please?" I said calmly. She was halfway around the desk when she stopped and nodded. "Okay," the Vice-Chancellor responded with a careful edge. "How am I any different than the man you thought me to be two minutes ago?" I led off. "I certainly liked your body and you appeared to appreciate the touches I gave you. How does anything I did with anyone else before touching you matter? You are very attractive to me. Am I now repulsive to you?" "Those are multiple questions," Victoria seemed suddenly weary. "You are the same person you were a minute ago, but I had forgotten that you are a boy, not a man, and boys have infatuations with unusual, rebellious ideas. With your Father dead, it seems you were rudderless. You are definitely not repulsive to me. I admire you, but you also reveal yourself to be immature. Would you please leave? I need to reconsider some things." "No," I replied. "No? No, you won't leave, or no, I've committed some grievous error?" she inquired. "You believe I'm a boy, you don't believe in homosexuality," I answered, though I fondly day-dreamed of Victoria and Barbie Lynn, or Hudson Lane, the school lawyer, in a lesbian tryst, "but I don't want your newfound doubts in me making you change, specifically how you treat yourself." "You want me to keep wearing lingerie," she sliced to the heart of the matter. "It is a simple pleasure you allow yourself, the only one I can detect. I will certainly be a source of displeasure for you in the future; don't let me do you harm over my careless confession," I pleaded. "My indulgence is a form of weakness," she argued. "Wrong," I fought back. "It is a 'fuck you' to temptation. It makes you stronger. Doctor Scarlett, I have never had a woman hold out as long as you did this afternoon. If you change the way you dress, then I win and you lose because I've proven you don't have faith in your own convictions." Victoria was contemplative for a moment, frowning, then slowly letting a smile win out. "Come here," she beckoned. I came up and she kissed me, not a fevered rush but a smooth, subtle thing, driven by curiosity more than passion. "You are going to require more work than I imagined," she eventually commented. "Have you forgiven me?" I asked. "Have I returned to being a good boy?" "Yes and yes." "Does this mean I can cop a feel? Ya know, a freebie?" I hoped. She kept looking up at me as she studied my features. "You are going to be a whole lot of work, Zane," she answered, "and no, no free fondling of my private parts." I growled up at the ceiling. "Damn it, woman," I snarled. "Stop trying to break me to your will." "Mr. Braxton," she patted me on the cheek, "I have no idea what you are talking about." Yeah, right. We ve Come So Far The Festivities Committee broke up once more. I was helping Mrs. Jaspers to her car since she'd taken a tumble in her home and her ankle was a bit sore. I had to return to the conference room to find my usual crowd of women overstaying the meeting, Mrs. Sahara Penny, Kendra Bainbridge, and Rochelle Wellington. "Hello, Kendra. Those frills around your collar are very enticing to the eye," I jibed. "Did you come tonight with some ulterior motive?" "No!" she snapped. "I am not that kind of woman." "Technically, if you've had children, you are that kind of woman," Sahara chimed in. "I am not a fornicator," Kendra defended herself. "No one said you were," Rochelle smiled at her rival's discomfort. "All Zane did was give you a compliment and a gentle teasing." "After his 'date' with the Reverend's wife, I am not sure any of us can be considered safe from Mr. Braxton's intentions," Kendra spat. Sahara's laugh was musical. "Yes, Kendra, I was positively scandalized that Zane would approach me with such blasphemous intentions as the Gospel of Judas, Pistis Sophia, and the origins of God's true word," Sahara grinned too sweetly. "I am sure that is what was on his mind," Kendra insinuated. She was probably coming to regret being tricked into talking to the Preacher's wife. "What would that be?" Rochelle prodded. Kendra's mouth gaped. "Well, we all know what Mr. Braxton is up to at school," she rebounded snootily. "Oh, so you have seen his website," Sahara pointed out. Kendra turned a deep shade of red. "Well, I, with everything going on," she sputtered, "we need to know how to keep our daughters safe." "Oh, Kendra, I agree," Rochelle smiled my way. "I think we can all agree that young Ms. Masters (Barbie Lynn) was lucky to escape Zane's clutches." "Yes," Sahara added sternly, "apparently she's been lucky on a nightly basis." Hey, now! Why is everybody picking on me? Half the time she's on top. "You make it sound like she enjoys, that, what he does to her," Kendra fought back. "Yes," sighed Sahara, "I can understand how horrible it must be to be crying out God's name while having sex." "Several times a night," Rochelle added. "I have such sympathy for the poor girl." "You do know that it is plausible Ms. Masters seeks me out for our mutual enjoyment," I groused. "After all, it's my bedroom and my shower we are seen in." "The Devil is known to be a great seducer," Kendra countered. "You've lured her into debauched behavior." "Oh, well, Kendra, you are on to me. I guess my deep-seated lust for you will remain unquenched," I groaned. "That's not fair," Rochelle chided me. "You are neither a tool of the Devil nor prone to give up on anything you desire, so apologize to Kendra for the sarcasm." "I apologize for making light of your concerns, Mrs. Bainbridge," I nodded toward Kendra. "Very well," Kendra snorted. "Perhaps counseling with Pastor William would do you some good." Oh, like that was going to happen; I was right in ol' Bill's preferred age range and gender. Added to that, I had sort of threatened to have him murdered for threatening Sahara Monday night. "I would prefer to be guided by someone I didn't have a desire to toss out of a fast moving aircraft," I allowed myself to say. Kendra gasped, Sahara became very still, and Rochelle choked. "Wha-, what makes you say that?" Sahara asked cautiously. "He insulted my Uncle Tim within the hearing of Aunt Jill," I answered. "I really couldn't stand Uncle Tim but would rather put my hand in a garbage disposal than let someone cause her pain. He apologized at that time but I have not forgotten." "Have you ever worried about being a bit too bloody?" Rochelle cautioned me. "I ask a lot out of life; I risk more than most and I accept that the price I pay may be higher," I replied. "I believe in the Rule of Law and I believe in punishing the wicked who attempt to abuse the rules for their own agenda. If the price is blood, then blood it shall be; if I can get a heartfelt repentance instead, so much the better." "Aren't you simply forcing your world view on everyone else?" Rochelle questioned me. "Absolutely," I admitted. "My world view is relatively easy to understand; keep to your word, accept that others will be different, and live and let live. I would prefer that my friends and I be left alone. If I have to use physical force to protect my views, I can live with that." "What of the Christian virtues of forgiveness and 'do no harm'?" Sahara countered. "I make a lousy Christian at times," I looked embarrassed. "You seem to have very little time for Christ in your life," Kendra responded snidely. "Really?" I muse. "I go to church six days a week, I get quizzed on some sort of Bible lore at least twice a day, and I come to this meeting once a week. I know sin is not a balancing act but I think I do some good." "Maybe if you gave less energy to carnal pursuits and more to Christian righteousness, you wouldn't have so many sins to balance," Kendra pronounced. "And here we are, three women of relatively good looks, discussing righteousness and virtue, Kendra," Sahara smiled. Kendra gawked at her. "Yes, I imagine I looked something like you look now when I saw Zane's devious trap Monday night." "What do you mean? We are talking about Zane's sexual lifestyle," Kendra rebutted. "No. You are talking about Zane's sex life; the rest of us are talking about sin, forgiveness, and virtue," Rochelle smiled in a superior manner. "But, but you, both, Kendra stammered. "I asked Zane about his world view," Rochelle corrected. "And I asked him about Christian forgiveness and 'do no harm', as I recall," Sahara smiled sedately. Kendra gaped like a fish out of water. "Yes, but now that I know about Mrs. Bainbridge's obsession with my bedroom antics, I'll make sure to show her more attention," I nodded. "I mean, there is an attraction that mature women possess that girls cannot equal. There was a long silence that followed that statement. "Zane, you wouldn't dare do, all, all of those lewd acts to one of us, would you?" Kendra stuttered. "I can't imagine what would make me refuse consensual sex with anyone in this room," I grinned at her. "But we are married women," Rochelle teased me. "Thus consensual, I don't want to break up a happily married couple but I don't like seeing a woman trapped in a relationship solely because she thinks there are no other options," I explained. "Women deserve to be free, and quite frankly, unhappily married women have built up an exciting reservoir of carnal energy." "Zane, I find it difficult to believe that a young man as kind to this committee as you have been would make us disrobe one article of clothing, run your rough hands over every inch of our bodies, and then force us to perform all kinds of vile sexual acts on and for you," Rochelle kept taunting me. My guess was that she was really pissed on learning her husband was having an affair with one of his employees in the Mayor's office. "You wouldn't do that to Kendra, would you, Zane?" Sahara quizzed me. "What do you mean?" I seemed confused. "She's one of the hottest MILF's in the parish; all the guys in Bible Study say so." "Wha, what?" Kendra gulped. "Milf, Mothers I'd Like to Fornicate with," I told her. "I know that!" Kendra snapped, clearly disoriented and unsure of herself. "Certainly you've noticed the men's eyes follow you around the church every Sunday after service?&

Terry Pratchett and Paul Kidby team up for an illustrated Discworld novel assembling some of Ankh-Morpork's largest characters. It's the first time for Andy and PJ exploring this book. Prose twists and lavish illustrations give us a rocketship powered by dragons, a madman with a nuclear device, all the gods, and events that will change the Discworld forever maybe.00:00 Introduction12:54 Part 1. "The last hero ought to return what the first hero stole."The Patrician assembles Ankh-Morpork's greatest minds - and Rincewind - to tackle the problem at Cori Celesti. Cohen has decided to blow up the gods and has kidnapped a bard to help.28:05 Part 2. Morituri Nolumus Mori ('We who are about to die but don't want to')Evil Harry and Vena the Raven-Haired join the quest. But each realise they have maps on scrolls, found in places they'd expect to be found. Death wrestles with Shrodinger's Cat. While priests and gods argue Carrot sews, Leonard mixes dragon food and Rincewind trains.47:16 Part 3. 'Ankh-Morpork, we have an orangutan...'With the privy assembled the crew of The Kite launch towards the circumference. Low supplies of air require a landing on the moon. The Horde climb the heights, pausing to consider heroism, ballads, The Tsortean knot and the taste of chicken (squid)58:27 Part 4. 'And you're the muse of swearing?'The Horde play dress up to enter Dunmanifestin where Fate challenges Cohen to a roll of the die. Rincewind flies The Kite but it comes more easily to The Librarian. Carrot tries an arrest. Mad Hamish's wheelchair makes a heroic sacrifice. Blind Io delivers his judgement. Cohen horse-jacks the valkyries and Leonard's painting causes a stir back in Ankh-Morpork.Listenings: https://pod.link/1645420990Watchings: https://youtube.com/@DiscworldGNUBluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/discworldgnu.bsky.socialFacebook: https://facebook.com/discworldgnuAndy's YouTube: https://youtube.com/@UCZSWNQIJ5CNZuRH6XLPcm0w Andy's Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/andylukeI've Never Read Discworld is written, hosted and produced by PJ Hart and Andrew Luke.*Our other Bigjobs*SPECIAL PLUGSAUDIOThe Divil's Own: folklore pod doc https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m001yhg4Last Dance: a Dark Fantasy audio drama podcast https://rustyquill.com/show/last-danceVIDEOSThe Gang Blackface Whitewash https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nNpq6zo1ozYCountry Rogues: comedy short film https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/m0022d39/comedy-shorts-series-1-2-country-roguesHelp - 360 VR Short Film https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=41T4Si5fPJsSociological Fiction (released 13 August) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mr2MlQPnFSsBOOKSCoastlines After Dark https://books2read.com/coastlinesafterdarkAnother Time https://books2read.com/anothertime

LONDINIUM CHRONICLES: GAIUS & GERMANICUS PHILOSOPHIZE Summary of Audio Part 1 Gaius and Germanicus, reflecting on 21st-century events from Londinium, compare the American "princeps" (emperor) issuing ultimatums against "gangsters" in places like Gaza and Caracas to the Roman precedent of figures like Pompey suppressing the Cilician pirates, noting that emperors do not negotiate. Germanicus suggests the current US administration's approach of reducing direct administrative control over allies while maintaining titular supremacy is reminiscent of how the Roman Emperor in Constantinople dealt with emerging barbarian kingdoms by bestowing Roman titles like Consul and Patrician. They debate whether Europe's recent emergency meeting in Copenhagen regarding a "drone wall" signifies European independence or a success of the US princeps' policy of creative retrenchment, criticizing the arbitrary basis of 20th-century alliances like NATO and the discredited domino theory.

Comedian and quizmaster Richard McKenzie returns to vie with Liz and Ben for control of the most odorous city on the Disc, as they discuss Martin Wallace's 2011 board game Discworld: Ankh-Morpork. The Patrician has gone missing! This leaves a huge power vacuum in Ankh-Morpork, and several of the most powerful figures in the city immediately start jostling for control. Lords, criminals and vampires position their minions in every district, each on their own path to power - and getting in each others' way. Ankh-Morpork can only remain leaderless for so long - and there will be only one winner... The first of the later Discworld board games, and generally considered by fans the best, Discworld: Ankh-Morpork (or just Ankh-Morpork) is a medium-to-light complexity game designed by Martin Wallace and published by Treefrog Games. Players take turns to play cards, following symbols and written instructions to alter the state of a map of Ankh-Morpork. Each card represents a character or location from the city, wonderfully illustrated by Peter Dennis. If the cards run out, then points are added up - but more likely, one of the players will achieve the secret objective of their “personality”, a hidden role which gives them one of five different victory conditions. Unfortunately the game was only available for five years before Treefrog lost the Discworld license, but it still holds pride of place in many fan collections - and goes for a pretty penny in the secondhand market. Especially the collector's editions! Have you had a chance to play Discworld: Ankh-Morpork? Does it capture the feel of the Discworld, or the city of Ankh-Morpork? Do you have a favourite card? What's missing from the books that you'd love to see added in? And now we've covered all the Discworld board games, do you have a favourite? Or an idea for a new game? Play your cards right by joining our online conversation, using the hashtag #Pratchat87. Guest Richard McKenzie (he/him) has been a comedian in the Melbourne scene for around twenty-five years. As well as writing and performing many solo storytelling shows, he's supported big names like Adam Hills and Ross Noble, written and performed sketches and plays with WATSON and the Anarchist Guild Social Committee, and partnered with Ben for nerd comedy, including the Dungeons & Dragons-themed improvised show Dungeon Crawl. As of July 2025 you'll find Richard hosting trivia at The College Lawn in Prahran on Wednesday evenings from 7 PM, and at The Cornish Arms in Brunswick on Thursday evenings (7 PM, general knowledge) and Sunday afternoons (2 PM, pop culture). Liz's upcoming event to which psychology is relevant is the Sci-Fight comedy science debate for National Science Week, with the topic “Psychology is a Freud”. It's on Tuesday, 12 August 2025 in Brunswick; find out more and book tickets via the Sci-Fight website. You can find episode notes and errata on our web site. Next month we're back on the books - and we're doing two at once! We'll be discussing a couple of Discworld companion volumes, namely Tiffany Aching's Guide to Being a Witch by Rhianna Pratchett and Gabrielle Kent, and Designing Terry Pratchett's Discworld by Paul Kidby - who also illustrated the Tiffany Aching book! Get your questions in via email (chat@pratchatpodcast.com), or sling them at us on social media using the hashtag #Pratchat88. Do listen to our interview with Rhianna and Gabrielle first - we'll be avoiding doubling up on questions we asked them!

Clarke Prep Varsity Gators won big over Patrician Academy Varsity Saints 13-3 on Thursday. The Saints opened the scoring in the top of the first thanks to two singles. Patrician first got on the board when Bryson Wheeler singled, scoring one run. Gators flipped the game on its head in the bottom of the third, scoring six runs on five hits to take the lead, 8-3. The biggest blow in the inning was a triple by Connor Bumpers that drove in two. John Allen Powell earned the win for the Gators. The righty allowed four hits and zero runs over...Article Link

In this episode of All the Saints of Ireland, host Thomas and guest Michelle explore the often-overlooked pre-patrician saints, starting with Saint Mokelech and Saint Declan. They delve into the complex history and hagiographies of these early Irish saints and their connections to Saint Patrick.             L'articolo E46 | All the Saints of Ireland – The Pre-Patrician Saints and the Mystical Legacy of Saint Senan proviene da Radio Maria.

In this episode of All the Saints of Ireland, host Thomas and guest Michelle explore the lives of lesser-known Irish saints, focusing on pre-Patrician figures.               L'articolo E45 | All the Saints of Ireland – Thomas and Michelle – Saints of Ireland: Exploring Pre-Patrician Figures and the Mystical Lives of Irish Saints proviene da Radio Maria.

The year is 64 A.D. In Nero's Rome, where the aristocrats lord over the masses with an iron rod and Christians are considered outlaws, an unlikely love draws a Patrician and a Christian prisoner together. In this episode of the #BecomeFire Podcast, we dive into part one of "Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero."

Patricia Raybon joins Dr. Saundra this week to discuss the many ways God is our help this holiday season. Connect with Patrician on Facebook and Instagram. Get your copy of God Is Our Help: Our Daily Bread Reflections for Living with His Love and Strength. I Choose My Best Life Podcast is one of the  Top 20 Christian Women Podcasts I Choose My Best Life Books: Colorful Connections, Sacred Rest, Come Empty, Set Free to Live Free Connect with Saundra: Twitter: @DrDaltonSmith Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/drdaltonsmith Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DrSaundraDaltonSmith

Lech Blaine with the strange true story of his childhood, shaped by love, religious zealotry, and four wildly different parents. CW: descriptions of foster care and child removal.

In this week's episode we'll cover Patrician: Towers of Influence, our Game of the Week, discuss Being a Hobby Ambassador in The School of Gaming,  and wrap it up by revealing our High-Five Game Filters! We also Spotlight Sausage Sizzle 00:00:00 - Follow-Up & Awesomeness 00:11:19 - Spotlight: Sausage Sizzle 00:18:10 - Game of the Week: Patrician Towers of Influence 00:40:38 - School of Gaming: Being a Better Hobby Ambassador 00:57:50 - High-Five: Filters To Weed Out Games

After the founding of Rome as a city in the 8th century BC, it created a social system based on an elite few and a majority of commoners.  This social arrangement wasn't unique to Rome, and it has appeared in cultures and civilizations around the world. However, Rome was one of the first cultures to experience a conflict between these classes and for the commoners to win major concessions.  Learn more about the Conflict of the Orders and the battle between Plebeians and Patricians on this episode of Everything Everywhere Daily. Sponsors Plan your next trip to Spain at Spain.info! Sign up at butcherbox.com/daily and use code daily to get chicken breast, salmon or ground beef FREE in every order for a year plus $20 off your first order! Subscribe to the podcast!  https://link.chtbl.com/EverythingEverywhere?sid=ShowNotes -------------------------------- Executive Producer: Charles Daniel Associate Producers: Ben Long & Cameron Kieffer   Become a supporter on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/everythingeverywhere Update your podcast app at newpodcastapps.com Discord Server: https://discord.gg/UkRUJFh Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/everythingeverywhere/ Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/everythingeverywheredaily Twitter: https://twitter.com/everywheretrip Website: https://everything-everywhere.com/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Inequality reporter Stephanie Convery returns on a trip with Liz and Ben into the world of banking, high finance and monetary theory in Terry Pratchett's thirty-sixth Discworld novel, 2007's Making Money. The Ankh-Morpork Post Office is running very smoothly - which has left Moist von Lipwig, reformed con-man and Postmaster General, at a loose end. But he resists the Patrician's offer of a new job revitalising the Royal Mint and Royal Bank of Ankh-Morpork. The bank's current owner is a Mark 1 Feisty Old Lady who knows her rich family are out to get her - and her little dog, too. But despite Moist's best attempts to not get involved, both dog and bank wind up in his care - putting him in the sights of the Lavish family, and especially Vetinari-obsessed Cosmo Lavish. Meanwhile, manager of the Golem Trust (and Moist's fiancée) Adora Belle Dearheart is digging up something ancient out on the desert. And Moist's past is about to catch up with him... Just a few novels after debuting in Going Postal, Moist von Lipwig is back! Making Money is about the nature of money, but also about the thrill of the chase, grappling with one's inner nature, and obsession. Aside from Gladys the Golem, Moist and Adora Belle bring few of their previous supporting cast along for the ride; instead we meet a new cast including Mr Bent, the Lavishes, another Igor, the Post-Mortem Communications Department of Unseen University, and the very good boy Mr Fusspot. Does this live up to the promise of Going Postal? Could Moist be in other Discworld books in disguise - and if so, as who? Did you guess Mr Bent's secret? And if you had a Glooper, what would you use it to change in the world of money? No purchase necessary to join the conversation for this episode; just email us or use the hashtag #Pratchat80 on social media. Stephanie Convery (she/her) is is a writer and author. Previously the Deputy Culture Editor for The Guardian Australia, she's now their dedicated inequality reporter. Stephanie's first book, After the Count: The Death of Davey Browne, was published in March 2020 by Penguin Books. (We suspect it won't be her last.) You can follow Stephanie on Twitter at @gingerandhoney, and find her work at Guardian Australia. Her previous appearances on Pratchat were for #Pratchat2, “Murdering a Curry” (about Mort), and #Pratchat42, “Truth, the Printing Press, and Every -ing” (about The Truth). You'll find full notes and errata for this episode on our website...though not just yet. Watch out for it soon! In the meantime, the newly recovered story in A Stroke of the Pen is “Arnold, the Bominable Snowman” (we've not yet found it online). Also, here's the free Quickstart for the Discworld: Adventures in Ankh-Morpork roleplaying game; it's also available via DriveThruRPG. The Kickstarter launches on 15 October. Those three upcoming Discworld plays in Australia are The Fifth Elephant from Brisbane Arts Theatre from 19 October; Maskerade by Sporadic Productions in Adelaide from 30 October; and Guards! Guards! from Roleystone Theatre in Perth from 22 November. Next episode we're continuing our Moist streak (sorry) with the (so far) latest Discworld board game: Clacks! If you have questions about this game recreating the race between Moist and the Grand Trunk company, get them in to us by mid-October 2024 by tagging us or using the hashtag #Pratchat81 on social media, or emailing us at chat@pratchatpodcast.com.

Being Subversive Isn't As Much Fun As It LooksIn 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             “Friends stand by you through the struggles your enemies create” "You are depraved and despicable," Mhain seethed."I get that a lot; now get out," I growled back, "because I have a thousand other bitches who are, scratch that, 999 other bitches, Doctor Kennedy is growing on me; the rest I'm not so sure about, who are making my life miserable.""Don't get your hopes up, Mr. Braxton," Doctor Kennedy warned me. "I'm happily married.""Cool," I responded. "I hope to be like that one day.""Happily married?" Virginia inquired."No; a female law professor at an all-girls school," I grinned. "It sounds like a real cool job.""Feel free to hit him," Dana interrupted. "I swear that is the only way to get him to learn anything; or the only way we will discuss at this moment." Ah, sex. I thought my life had gone on a bit too long without the mention of sex. "It is also a fun form of stress relief."A painful blow rocked my shoulder and nearly sent me sprawling."You are right," Gabrielle noted clinically. "I feel better." Fuck, she hits hard. I look at her and try not to get pissed off and say something stupid. She makes my life difficult but my existence at FFU makes her life far too interesting as well. Whack! Someone hit me with a briefcase."I have to agree," Doctor Kennedy confirmed. "It has a therapeutic quality to it.""Bloody hell," I blurt out."Everyone, please stop physically abusing Zane," Ms. Goodswell snapped. "He's a student, for Pete's sake. He's not subject to corporal punishment.""Virginia, have you ever punched or slapped Zane?" Dana teased. "Give it a try before dismissing it out of hand.""He likes spanking," Barbie Lynn beamed happiness as she skipped by on her way to my/our bedroom. Technically, it is mine, Vivian's, Barbie Lynn's, Rio's, and Mercy's, plus whoever is feeling lonely on a given night. As for the spanking, I'm more of a giver than a receiver, but I doubt explaining that right now would be appropriate."Uhmm, okay, I think that is my cue to leave," Virginia piped up."I have rounds to make," Gabrielle added."I'm going home to my family," Doctor Kennedy headed out."I'm going to stay here, kick back, and watch some Pay-per-view," Dana grinned."What are you going to watch?" Hudson inquired."BBC America has this show called Copper that I've been meaning to catch," Dana informed her."Mind if I watch an episode with you?" Hudson asked."Sure, knock yourself out. You can pick the second show," Dana yawned. "It's only Zane's money after all." The rest of my guests filed out and I retired to the showers and then to my room. The day's stress revealed itself as the women curled into bed calmly and soon were cuddled together, including the odd ones out.On the far side we had the rather unusual appearance of Valarie. Next to her was Rio, who had her arms wrapped around Mercy. Mercy was snuggled against Barbie Lynn who held the middle spot. I was on my side, face-to-face with Barbie Lynn. After a few minutes, Vivian came to bed, wedged up against my back, and put an arm over me. I was in close proximity to several beautiful women but as long as no one doused the room with an aphrodisiac, we'd do just fine."Zane," Barbie Lynn whispered, "my vibrator burned out this morning, and I'm terribly horny."Oh, fuck! Barbie Lynn gazing down at me, I'm not sure another guy should ever see this because it could break one's heart to see it once and never again. She's built a faint sheen of sweat on her body already and she's looking at me with a definite Zen to fuck. My cock is cocooned deep inside her rectum, rubbing inside as she rotates forward on her hips.The distant, dreamy look in her eyes flashes to alertness as she catches me looking at her; 'hi' she whispers. I nod and smile so she inclines into me so that we can start kissing. She leads in with her tongue along my lips. I touch the tip of her tongue with my own, snaking inside her mouth before we are done. She starts murmuring, deepens our kiss, and begins rubbing my nipples."Vivian?" Valarie says softly. She snuck around the bed to settle behind my guardian."Yes?" Vivian replies. She is on her side watching Barbie Lynn and I."I, umm,” Valarie moans.Out of the corner of my eye I catch it as Val's hand brushes Vivian's hair off her neck and her lips start suckling on the exposed flesh. Vivian closes her eyes briefly but doesn't move Valarie away."Oh, Baby," Barbie pants with barely an inch separating our lips, "I know I say this often but I so love this. You tear me up inside and I want it so bad all the time, it scares me.""Vaginal sex with you scares me," I tease back."Will it be even better?" she draws in an even deeper, breast flaunting breath."You never know, but you are so damn good at everything else, I can't imagine you doing anything but haunting my dreams forever," I say, as I coax her movements with my hands on her hips, flanks, and thighs. Barbie shows her appreciation by running her hand through my bangs and pushing my hair back so that she can cover my forehead, eyes and nose with kisses."You like that romantic shit, don't you, Mercy-slut?" Rio grumbles playfully from the other side."Yes," Mercy whispers. I know Rio well enough to know that when a spiteful reply isn't immediately forthcoming, she's dusting off (and unchaining) her Better Angel. Mercy is looking at Barbie Lynn and me, her head facing sideways as she lies on her back. Rio crawls on top of Mercy, prompting Mercy to open her legs, and locks her hands over her head to gaze down on her."Your skin is so pure, your hair so black, and your eyes so full of passion, it breaks my heart to look at you, My Little Whore," Rio begins. She leans in and bites Mercy's earlobe, causing her victim to moan and buck up slightly. "Mercy, you give and give, making me so hot inside that I want to grab you and never let go.""Really?" Mercy gasps. "I, ""Don't get used to this," Rio growls with famished sexual enticement. "But, well, I want you to know that I hope all our children look just like you." Poor Rio was running out of material. It was terribly uncomfortable for me to show her where to go. I ran my hands over Barbie's body, which is an absolute torture I am forced to struggle through repeatedly.I start by massaging Barbie Lynn's tits, rotating three fingers over the nipples before rolling up the whole meaty breast in my palms. Barbie Lynn starts pushing back on my cock harder and grunting to the rhythm."Damn, Mercy," Rio teases, "I love these titties." She accentuates by sucking the top third of one breast into her mouth and twirling her tongue around it.Vivian gives a visible shiver from her side of the bed; Valarie has done something to her beneath the sheets to turn her on. In the interim while I have been watching Rio and Mercy, Valarie has been working over Vivian, temple to shoulder, with her lips. Now I see Vivian pulling up her left (upper) leg until it is resting snugly against my upper ribs, giving someone easier access to her snatch.She's also put her left arm behind her back between herself and Valarie. I'm starting to wonder if there is something in the air filters of my place, some undiscovered aphrodisiac mold, fungi, or spores that turns nice, virtuous girls into promiscuous bi-sexual vixens. To the best of my knowledge and belief, neither Valarie nor Vivian had the slightest lesbian tendencies before they started coming to my room.I give Barbie Lynn's luscious orbs one final squeeze before migrating my hold down to her ass, giving each cheek a double-slap. Barbie Lynn exhales a huff of ecstatic relief as the impact travels through her. Rio smirks and follows suit, her hand reaching between their thighs, prying Mercy's leg up, up and up until Mercy's knee is nearly at her breast."Your body is the first female form that I've ever lusted after," Rio murmurs as she rubs and pats Mercy's buttocks. "I think I've always wanted you, to taste you on my tongue, your scent strong in my mind and your sweet, sweet ass under my hand." Mercy brings one hand up to stroke Rio's cheek as she gives a strangled sob. No matter how much Mercy fears loving a woman, Rio can chisel that away and get her to love openly and freely.Barbie Lynn bounces up and slams down on me repeatedly as she is coming to the end of her fuse."Zane, Zane, oh yeah," she pants. Vivian chooses this moment to sneak her climax in on the rest of us. I am vaguely aware of her biting her lip, rocking her hips under the sheets, and perspiration beginning to bead on her lower lip."Holy God, Christ, and, my, hot damn, Val, ugh, Oh, God!" Vivian squeals as Valarie vigorously whips her hand in a tight pattern, cloaked from sight but obvious to the knowledgeable. Vivian's clit, lips, and the gateway to her cunt are all supers-stimulated. Valarie cools her down and holds her with enough strength to stop Vivian from rolling face-first into the sheets."Jesus Loves Me!" Barbie Lynn screams one last time. Her body bows, her breasts thrust forward and up, bouncing so deliciously while her thighs tremble in climax. Her anal muscles rippling from sphincter toward my cockhead are grinding me toward orgasm. Finally, she collapses against me, still twitching and fighting for breath.With my arms wrapped around her, I roll us over toward Mercy and Rio, placing Barbie Lynn on her back. Barbie Lynn has her legs pulling back before I can even move to push them back. While I had never fully pulled out, I was nearly there. I shove my hips forward, forcing my cock back in hard, causing Barbie Lynn to grunt, her mouth to gape open, nostril flaring, as her eyes squeeze shut."Oh, hell, yeah," Barbie Lynn gasps, "hammer me!""Oh, fuck," Valarie moans, "I am so lonely." Vivian is still roaming her hands over Valarie's special place, picking up the pace as she's inspired by Barbie Lynn's passion. Rio expresses her perverse nature by going at Mercy slow while the rest of us are going gangbusters."Here is my baby-smooth, tasty friend," Rio says as she kisses Mercy's bald twat. Rio pushes her thighs apart, her leg muscles taught while laying on the bed. Rio's restraint could only last so long. Every lick became more insistent, every nibble elicited a greater yelp, and every hip-thrust by Mercy into Rio's hungry mouth was more desperate.Valarie gives off one long, cavernous growl, then screams in between Vivian's shoulder blades."Damn," Vivian whispers, as a sympathetic orgasmic shiver coasts through her body. I'm pushing up on my knuckles, Barbie Lynn's legs between them as I rise up until my bulbous head is fixed in her sphincter; then I slam down once more. She's rocking her hips up to maximize the depths I reach as she cries out, again and again and again.When I finally let go, I feel a volcano of lust, frustration, and fulfillment exploding out all at once. Barbie Lynn's head sways rapidly side to side as she comes unglued."Zane, Jesus loves me, Jesus Loves Me!" she howls loud enough to shake the glass panels overhead. Those words ringing in my ears are going to haunt me in whatever church I go to."Ugh, ugh, ugh, Love, right there, feels so good," Mercy drags out with shallow breathes."Umm,” Rio gurgles. Mercy has gotten quite wet and visibly aroused. I'm sure Rio has worked a finger or two into the action and in Mercy's ass. Mercy starts bouncing off the sheets as she hisses out the last of her restraint."Mother-fucker-god-damn!" Mercy cries out. Rio growls, slurps, and sucks up Mercy's cunt juice while lapping up and down her slit."That's my baby," Rio's fluid-marked face looks up from between Mercy's legs and smiles. "Was that good for you?" Rio asks? Mercy nods dreamily. "Are you a happy little whore?" Rio teases. Again, Mercy nods with pleasure. "Did you use the 'L' word, Ass-fuck slut?" Rio hardens.This time Mercy realizes her mistake and shudders. She raises her head and looks into Rio's eyes."Yes. I'm sorry, Rio," Mercy mumbles."Sorry isn't going to cut it this time, Bitch," Rio sneers. "Tomorrow morning you are going to get it coming and going, all day long." I am actually aware of what that threat means."Okay," Vivian sighed, with more contentment than annoyance, "we've all cum so let's try and get some sleep.""I haven't gotten off yet," Rio chuckled. I knew what I had to do before someone else volunteered my services."Come here, Rio." I smile to her and extend a hand. "Let me get another taste of my best bro.""I'll clean you up," Barbie Lynn grins up at me, as she wiggles her body around my own so she's on top again. She slithers down my torso, waggles my still mostly hard cock against her lips, then begins to take it into her mouth. Barbie Lynn's tongue licks along my shaft as she gobbles up more of my rod.I expect Rio to come over but Mercy, following along and lying on her belly, her head propped up on her hands and elbows as she watches my blonde angel's skilled fellatio, is a bonus. Rio ends up near my pillow, one hand on my chest and the other resting between Mercy's ass cheeks. Her fingers are definitely sliding in and out of Mercy's cunt. If Mercy is a bit sore, she's smart enough not to complain to her Mistress about it."What do you have in mind, Zane?" Rio catches my gaze."I want your teeth tearing up the mattress with your ass up in the air as I plow you through the headboard," I inform her. I make a focus group assessment of the situation by slipping a finger into her cunt, she's creaming already.For Rio, the greater physicality of the sex, the better it is for her. She'll let me have my foreplay and some good loving, but she goes wild over the raw, brutal act of sex itself."I think you are ready to put that smile on her face," Barbie Lynn taunts Rio as she informs me she's finished. "Come with me," Barbie Lynn turns to Mercy. "My nipples need some attention. Can you do that for me?"After checking with Rio, Mercy gives a hungry look and lick of the lips at Barbie Lynn. Barbie crawls over Mercy to land on her back on the far side. Mercy twirls around and latches on to Barbie Lynn's left breast with such rapidity, it momentarily causes my visage to blur."I want some of that," Valarie suddenly blurts out.She makes her own quick trek around Rio and me as we are still positioning ourselves to come swooping down on Barbie Lynn's right side. The right nipple disappears into our school biker girl's mouth with a decidedly audible smacking of the lips. Val's hand starts to stroke the inside of Barbie Lynn's thigh but Mercy's free hand reaches over and starts tweaking Valarie's closest nipple. Yes, I definitely must check the air filters.Rio resumes her sensually crawl my way and I give her a beguiling look to lure her in. I'm on her in a flash once she's close enough for me to make my move. She screeches like an alley cat but I've got a hand on the back of her head and the other on her hip as I slam her face first into the pillow."Bastard," she screams through the fabric, but she's not following through with the anger."Give it up, Bitch," I snarl back. My cock slides full-throttle all the way into her cunt on the first pass. Her cunt feels like slick, melted butter as I bottom out in her hole. At the same time, I let up on her head a bit."Oh, fucking-A," Rio gasps. "Did someone sneak a gerbil up behind me or is it Needle-cock pretending he's a man?" I give her another powerful slam. "Oh, fuck, stop that.""What? Too much for the bitch whose had it all?" I tease Rio.

Brendan shares his first impressions of three games he tried for the first time recently. Join us, won't you?Scooby-Doo: Escape from the Haunted Mansion (2020)Sand (2024)Patrician (2007) (revisited)The Game of Wolf (2019)What games have you played recently? Share with us over on Boardgamegeek in guild #3269.

Brendan shares his first impressions of three games he tried for the first time recently. Join us, won't you?Scooby-Doo: Escape from the Haunted Mansion (2020)Sand (2024)Patrician (2007) (revisited)The Game of Wolf (2019)What games have you played recently? Share with us over on Boardgamegeek in guild #3269.

Join us for an episode featuring Patricia A. Gabow, a nephrologist, as she discusses her book, The Catholic Church and Its Hospitals: A Marriage Made in Heaven? Patrician delves into the origins and evolution of the Catholic health care system in the United States, exploring how Ethical and Religious Directives influence patient care, particularly in reproductive and end-of-life services. She examines the transparency of these institutions, the historical role of Catholic nuns, and the balance between religious beliefs and patient rights in today's pluralistic society. Patricia A. Gabow is a nephrologist. She discusses her book, The Catholic Church and Its Hospitals: A Marriage Made in Heaven? Our presenting sponsor is Nuance, a Microsoft company. Do you spend more time on administrative tasks like clinical documentation than you do with patients? You're not alone. Clinicians report spending up to two hours on administrative tasks for each hour of care provided. Nuance, a Microsoft company, is committed to helping clinicians restore the balance with Dragon Ambient eXperience – or DAX for short. DAX is an AI-powered, voice-enabled solution that helps physicians cut documentation time in half. DAX Copilot combines proven conversational and ambient AI with the most advanced generative AI in a mobile application that integrates directly with your existing workflows. DAX Copilot can be easily enabled within the workflow of the Dragon Medical application to bring the power of ambient technology to more clinicians faster while leveraging the proven and powerful capabilities used by over 550,000 physicians. Explore DAX Copilot today. Visit https://nuance.com/daxinaction to see a 12-minute DAX Copilot demo. Discover clinical documentation that writes itself and reclaim your work-life balance. VISIT SPONSOR → https://nuance.com/daxinaction SUBSCRIBE TO THE PODCAST → https://www.kevinmd.com/podcast RECOMMENDED BY KEVINMD → https://www.kevinmd.com/recommended GET CME FOR THIS EPISODE → https://www.kevinmd.com/cme I'm partnering with Learner+ to offer clinicians access to an AI-powered reflective portfolio that rewards CME/CE credits from meaningful reflections. Find out more: https://www.kevinmd.com/learnerplus

By 450 BC, the Roman Republic was beginning to take on the outlines of a form we recognize, with elected magistrates, a Senate, and written laws. But these were hard times for Rome, and there was no guarantee that the city would even dominate its immediate area, much less Italy and beyond.Patrick's book is now available! Get The Verge: Reformation, Renaissance, and Forty Years that Shook the World in hardcopy, ebook, or audiobook (read by Patrick) here: https://bit.ly/PWverge. And check out Patrick's new podcast The Pursuit of Dadliness! It's all about “Dad Culture,” and Patrick will interview some fascinating guests about everything from tall wooden ships to smoked meats to comfortable sneakers to history, sports, culture, and politics. https://bit.ly/PWtPoDListen to new episodes 1 week early, to exclusive seasons 1 and 2, and to all episodes ad free with Wondery+. Join Wondery+ for exclusives, binges, early access, and ad free listening. Available in the Wondery App https://wondery.app.link/tidesofhistorySee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Det efterlängtade hundrafemtiosjunde avsnittet är äntligen här. Denna gång har vi äntligen en gäst igen och det är ingen mindre än Pär Strand som driver penshop.se samt både användare och samlare. Länkar:Reservoarpennor | FacebookSailor 1911 Realo Svart GT - Pennor Sailor 1911 - PennshoppenPen Review: Waterman Man 100 Patrician, a Neglected Workhorse — The Gentleman StationerJ. Herbin Bläck 30ml - Bläck & Tillbehör J. Herbin - PennshoppenSailor Nano Bläck Blåsvart Sei-Boku 50ml - Bläck & Tillbehör Sailor - PennshoppenRohrer & Klingner Bläck och Tillbehör - reservoarpennor - PennshoppenUK PEN SHOW EVENTS - LONDON AUTUMN PEN SHOW - ukpenshowsWaterman Allure “Pastel Blue” - Pennor Waterman - PennshoppenParker Vector XL teal - Pennor Parker - PennshoppenClassic Century Medalist Pen and Pencil SetThe Writing Equipment Society | WESPEN WORLD - Niche Lifestyle Magazine, Fountain Pen MagazinePen Collectors of America – Keeping the history of writing instruments alive through member support and community education.Reservoarpennor.se - Start : Intro - en svensk sajt om reservoarpennorDin lokala pennexpert - snart 20 еr pе nдtet! - PennshoppenPennspecialisten – Pennspecialisten i MalmöKontaktTweets av Martin Lindeskog (@Lyceum) – TwitterJohan Gustaphzon (@jgustaphzon) • Foton och videoklipp på InstagramJohan Gudmundson (@johangudmundson) • Foton och videoklipp på InstagramPenna möter papper – Sveriges första och enda podd om pennor.Penna möter papper -...

Patrician Mgmt v. BXS Insurance

In this very three-quarters-of-a-century episode, Liz, Ben and guest Dr Melissa Rogerson get out the eight-sided dice and roll for initative - or at least cunning - as we play the 2011 board game, Guards! Guards!, designed by Leonard Boyd and David Brashaw, and based on the Discworld novels by Terry Pratchett. The eight great spells have escaped from Unseen University's library, ready to unleash chaos on Ankh-Morpork! Thankfully Commander Vimes has taken charge. He's assigned members of the Watch (that's you) to liaise with four of the Guilds to round up volunteers and bring those spells back. But Guild rivalries run deep, and surely the Patrician will look kindly on whoever saves the day the most. So if one of the other Guilds' volunteers should go missing or explode or fall into the Ankh, your Guild would only be too willing to shoulder more of the burden of saving the city... Created by two Irish Discworld fans who approached Terry with the idea (see David Brashaw's great interview with The Truth Shall Make Ye Fret), Guards! Guards! A Discworld Board Game sees players roaming about a hexagon-based map of Ankh-Morpork collecting Discworld characters, casting spells from scrolls, equipping magic items and occasionally fighting dragons. Which sounds suspiciously like a very different kind of game... Originally published in 2011 by BackSpindle Games and Z-Man Games, and reprinted with a revised rulebook in 2012, Guards! Guards! was a hit with fans - but board game hobbyists were less enthusiastic. Have you played Guards! Guards! - and if so, how long did it take you? Do you like the kind of game where being mean to the other players is part of the fun? Do you think it captures the essence of the source material, and if so, which books in particular? Is this the best name for the game, or do you have a better suggestion? (Ours was Guilds! Guilds!) And should we play an exhibition match at the Australian Discworld Convention, of this or one of the other games? We'd love to hear what you think: use the hashtag #Pratchat75 to join the conversation. Dr Melissa Rogerson is a Lecturer and Assistant Professor in the School of Computing and Information Systems at The University of Melbourne. She was last on for #PratchatPlaysThud, “The Troll's Gambit”, discussing the first Discworld board game in Nivember 2022. Melissa's current research is about hybrid games which use both physical and digital components, as well as the possibility of using games to tell the stories of older people. You can find out more about her work at hybridgameresearch.net, melissarogerson.com, or find her on Twitter and Mastodon as @melissainau, and on BoardGameGeek as melissa. (A mentioned last time, Ben is on there too, as beejay.) As usual you'll be able to find notes and errata for this episode on our website...but not just yet. Watch this space! Next episode we'll be discussing a Discworld novel for the first time in ages - and not just any Discworld novel, but one of the most beloved! Yes, for #Pratchat76 we're finally talking about Monstrous Regiment. Get your questions in before the last week of February to give them a chance of getting on the show! Use the hashtag on social media (Mastodon, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and BlueSky), or email us at chat@pratchatpodcast.com.

For about fifteen years, I took anti-depressants. Three years ago, I flushed them down the toilet. It was the same day that I stopped believing in myself. I haven't looked back. For much of my adult life, I assumed that a diagnosis of “Major Depression” would plague me forever, because it was simply a case of biochemistry that wasn't working properly. It was a mechanistic problem, like a bent axle that needed to be bent back into shape (constantly), or like a lawn that needed continuous watering to remain green and lush. It was a disease, you see - not my fault. And it wasn't bad, but it needed modern treatment, like diabetes. Also, it needed techniques to manage it, an exercise of a sort, that required appointments with professionals. Without pills, data, techniques, and plenty of money, there was just no cure. Depression was a biological and psychological problem, requiring manipulation of receptors and a program of self-talk. Some backstory is needed here, and since I can get lost in long asides in my storytelling, I will try to do my best to stay on track. Oh, who am I kidding, let's go get lost. The problem of other minds and the cult of self-esteemI have come to know that deprogramming from the cult of self-esteem is a long journey. Long ago, in a childhood far, far away, I pondered whether the world was some kind of Truman Show. I recall hiding under a bed at a sleepover, wondering why the world seemed to be a grand conspiracy against me. Were they all actors? Were they even real? This notion came to me way before the movie The Truman Show or The Matrix existed, and I've come to learn that the idea of solipsism is about as original as the wheel or marriage in human history. The great thing about being a reader is that you always come to discover that every “original” idea that comes to mind proves to be quite unoriginal and has been discussed and beaten to death already by thinkers above my pay grade. What's strange to me is that the idea of the Truman Show doesn't occur to little children, who understand reality, but mostly this “fake world” problem only occurs to emo teenagers, narcissists, and doctors of philosophy. I seem to fit that crowd all too well, if unevenly. This Truman Show idea happened in the same period when the public school I attended drummed to the heavy beat of uniqueness and self-esteem. Elementary students became the test tube for a variety of academic ideas from Abraham Maslow, Sigmund Freud, Carl Jung, John Dewey, and a laundry list of other modern tinkerers. Of course, our parents were clueless about this in rural and small-town America, which made it the perfect proving ground for new ideas. The most fascinating thing about growing up in the 1980s and 1990s is that in looking back, we were treated like lab rats in massive experimentations of humanism and liberalism and a few other “isms” favored in the scholarly world.Much like today, the mind-body problem was being attacked from all sides. The problem of pain has long been the enemy of the Enlightenment and the idea of modern progress. Death is the abomination that must be ignored, re-evaluated, and eventually conquered. This blitz from the sciences on solving human suffering has been sending academic linebackers at the elusive quarterback called “consciousness” for several centuries. By dumb luck, I just happened to be born in the generation where the culmination of the academic experts had “the solution,” and they were granted the authority to carry out those experiments by the US Government and the State of Minnesota. Had I been born in Caesar's time, I would have simply learned the family trade, since I was not born in the Patrician class. The plebes learned to work and to praise the gods. The American plebes born before the 1960s followed a similar path, but somewhere after education became an activist's laboratory, the plebes became interesting to the experimenters, and the public school turned into a place of strange evangelization. Far more dogmas came to me in class than in Church. And what was the program being sold? Really, at the bottom, it was the same cure as the Church promised to fix. It was healing. We all want to be healed. But the solution for healing is wildly different depending on the foundational things that a worldview is built upon. A great healing was coming for the kids, and for the grown-ups, and it was a psycho, social, and somatic cure. The mind could be soothed with happy thoughts, the body tamed with exercise. The shackles of tradition needed to be tossed off, like ropes from a ship at dock, so that the mind and body could sail away into peaceful-yet-fun waters. Fun - that was the cure. Smile! Now that I think of it all, the world's guidance reminds me of a water ride at an amusement park, where artificial rocks and walls are built and a rugged-looking raft floats “dangerously” through a false “wildness” built for our entertainment. Yes, the world portrayed by the Church was one where the devil prowls about looking for the ruin of souls. The world portrayed by the Church was like the movie The River Wild, where massive rapids or thieves could and would kill you. The world portrayed at public school was more like your standard “river rapids ride” at Six Flags where nothing could hurt you - where you just needed to loosen up, laugh, and throw up your hands in the air in praise of fun. Death was to be avoided, and not even talked about. We were sold a story: most of all, what we lacked was self-esteem. If there is one word that dominated my early years it has to be self-esteem, with unique and special taking the silver and bronze medals. Self-esteem is defined as “a confidence and satisfaction in oneself.” Confidence has root words of “with faith” con - fide, or “faith in oneself.” This was the theme of elementary school. Self-esteem, I was promised, brought healing. If I had to invert one Biblical phrase to show the difference between what Jesus said and what my grade school, high school, college instructors, and even my employer's human resources said, it would be the antithesis of Matthew 11:28-30. Jesus said to come to him. The education system said, “Come to me,” meaning myself. Here's the anti-Matthew:“Come to me, me that is weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and me will give me rest. Take me yoke upon me, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and me will find rest for me soul. For me yoke is easy, and me burden is light.”I just had to believe in myself. To hear it often too - you are unique - you are special. You are gifted (which always made it odd for kids that didn't get that label, since it seemed to indicate that they were “not-gifted”?…but that's another topic). These ideas of uniqueness and specialness are indeed true for all people, but without something more, these words are terrible burdens and lead to strange endings, because they put a rubber stamp on our choices as endorsed, no matter how bad. Whatever hobby, addiction, idea, or obsession I had was just a confirmation of my unique and special self. The lesson was basic, teaching me that I didn't need some made-up deity to help me pull through this thing called life. No, I could do it all alone, so long as I relied ever more on myself. And whatever I decided was true, was right. Sounds great, but this false power is more of a curse and is visible in millions of people's lives now. In school and on TV, in sports, it seemed that so many people had the solution of self-actualization and self-esteem that they were tripping over each other to tell it and sell it. In elementary school, it was a technique. In college, I learned the “Hierarchy of Needs” from Abraham Maslow taught in three different classes - psychology, marketing, and political science. It was like a humanist parade where Maslow candy was being tossed out everywhere, and looking back I could see the same parade from second grade onward (and probably earlier if I could remember). Maslow was like a Moses of the second half of the 20th century, who came down from the mountain with his pyramid etched on a tablet. In the years when the onslaught of uniqueness and self-esteem was happening, I recall being pulled out of class for “gifted” meetings. I'm surprised we didn't all end up with identical tattoos that said “UNIQUE” with a serial number after it. And now I've gone too far. I apologize. Let's continue. But my point is that my Truman Show problem (otherwise known as “the problem of other minds” or solipsism) fed right into the uniqueness and self-esteem worldview that was quite literally being rammed down my throat, or rather, hung around my neck. Let's talk about the great IALAC sign experiment that millions of American children had to partake in. The IALAC Sign IncidentBut one incident, in particular, has never left my mind, and that was the second-grade project that was given to our entire class, known as the “IALAC Sign” experiment, an idea invented by the humanist Sidney Simon. The IALAC sign was a piece of paper that we wore around our necks with the letters I.A.L.A.C. which stood for, “I am lovable and capable.” We also did “Me-Me” time during this year of class, which was all about, “Me!” But the IALAC experiment was a self-esteem-building exercise intended to teach children the all-important humanist mantra: “Believe in yourself!” And so I did. I did enjoy causing trouble, but I always knew to follow orders when the time came to be serious. I knew when to quit, and how to follow orders. So I did what was asked. I believed in myself. With the IALAC sign, I recall gathering in the gym, sitting on the floor, and listening to the speaker and one particularly enthusiastic teacher, who I came to realize long after the fact was a hard-core humanist. The speech about the signs we wore around our necks went like this: “Every day you get a new IALAC sign. When someone insults you, a piece of your sign gets torn off. When someone compliments you, a piece can be restored.” So we practiced saying put-downs and compliments, as part of the exercise, and we would tear off parts of the paper. This was great fun because my friends and I would feign devastation and tear off a large piece. “You smell.” “You suck.” So we'd laugh and rip off a piece of the sign. We'd even tear it in half so that it dangled in pieces, then go get some tape and “heal” the IALAC signs with compliments. Then the speaker became serious. He informed us of something ominous. “When you turn eighteen, you no longer get a fresh sign each morning. You get one sign for the rest of your life, and when it gets torn, your sign can keep getting smaller. And for some people, it disappears entirely. So you need to build your self-esteem.” This seemed the secular equivalent of what Jesus said about being “…thrown into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” (Mt 8:12) If that last IALAC sign is insulted down to nothing, it seemed we could be in a kind of living hell. But the speaker assured us, so long as we “believed in ourselves,” that could never happen. I have many more anecdotes about the “believe in yourself” mantra, from teachers to coaches to TV shows to music, but I feel that anyone living today understands this already. The people alive today in the general culture have heard little else than “follow your heart” and “be yourself” and “let you be you” and even “God loves you just the way you are” since we left the womb. One shining light: The “Great Books” programThere was one shining light in elementary school that I recall where we weren't preached at with the ethos of humanism, and it was a Junior Great Books program that I got pulled into somehow. This was something very, very different from all of the other lessons in class. A few kids got to attend. We would read good stories like “The Ugly Duckling” and examine them, doing close readings, and the moderator of that little program didn't preach the “Be yourself” message. I really can't thank that fellow enough for running that program, because it was the only element of my public schooling that seemed to have any depth to it. The evangelization of uniqueness felt like a firehose to the face for years, and the Junior Great Books hour was like drinking from a cool fountain. “Then they came for the humanists…”Now, in recent years it's becoming en vogue to raise the alarm about the “cult of self-esteem,” which is refreshing because it's so overdue. The media and education system sold and force-fed a dogma to several generations of people. The well-meaning humanists like Maslow, Sidney Simon, and Carl Sagan are no longer cool, they are old, or even deceased, and thus the target of modern healers. Psychiatry can finally get some perspective on itself, too, since it's about as old as cinema, and the newcomers can bash the experts of yesterday. But since these experts of past days were neither people of the book, nor people of tradition, but rather “people of science,” their experiments should be reviewed. The results should be examined. The old experts did this to their ancestors, and now it shall be done to them. And while they threw out religion and all things spiritual, which they deemed to be a failure and relics of a long, silly era of human history, the corpse of the twentieth century should be laid out on a table for examination. Since the experts felt that the many, many centuries of human history where religion held the center and provided meaning, not to mention answers, it's only fair to look at how well human happiness and satisfaction fared in the purely material realm of governments, schools, and media that blocked all spiritual things from children and adults. So how did it work out? Today one out of three people in America admits being depressed. Before this experiment, people reported more satisfaction with life. The experiment performed on children of the second half of the twentieth century is just now being exposed, scrutinized, and put under the magnifying glass. Because of what happened when the lesson of self-esteem played out, the receivers of this obsession with “the self” discovered by experience that “confidence and satisfaction in oneself” is incredibly reductionist and provides no meaning for living. The self gets lonely. The self cannot provide meaning. It needs something outside of the self. What came with the message of “love thyself” was a cocktail of lukewarm American civil religion, from the old Protestant work ethic, where presidents tip their hat to God and wink. Add to that the old Anglo-Saxon values of kicking ass and taking names, and we get the “work hard, play hard” attitude. Mix that with “You are perfect just the way you are” and you have a dangerous self-righteousness and a gaping hole where the soul once sat. The only solution was to keep smiling and rushing around like chickens with our spiritual heads cut off. And that is what was missing from all of the educational, academic, and government attempts to make us whole. The soul. I promise you will never hear the word “soul” mentioned by these troubleshooters, unless they are referring to a mood, or a vibe, or a feeling. But the soul is not any of those things. The soul is the immortal part of our existence that animates our body, a rational soul that requires no matter whatsoever, as it is immaterial, and lives past our final breath, because it is not dependent on a set of lungs and a pumping heart and a brain. Our soul is what awaits the resurrection of the body. These attempts to heal, from the IALAC sign, to ABC's TGIF sitcoms like Full House, to Sesame Street, to “free health care,” to DEI, to whatever we got coming in the pipeline, are all bound to fail because they ignore the most important thing of all: the soul. We live in a worldview that sees the body as a material thing that must be saved at all costs. The mind too is material. This flattened view of the mind has bumped the soul from all public discussion, because, well, science has all the answers. But it can never have the full answer because it doesn't account for the whole person. Health of the body and mind is seen as a principal goal, but the health of the soul is set off in the land of fairy tales, not to be spoken of in the public square. Therein lies the problem. The key problem is this: we see the body as the principal thing, but it is the soul. Don't worry - I am not going light/dark Gnostic here. The body is good, but we think of the body as having a soul. But if you shift your thinking, you may change your whole worldview: the soul has a body. This shift from saying, “My body has a soul” to “My soul has a body” could rattle your world, so be careful: say it slowly. Most likely this idea has probably never been mentioned in your earshot. When you were created, matter from your mother and father joined and your soul was created. Your soul then gained a body, as cell division began, and the same soul has had your body from the time you looked like a seahorse in the womb to today. What do you see in the mirror? Your soul has that body. And the body is good because God made it just for you. Bodies are not perfect, but the soul is immortal, and God loves your soul and your body and will re-unite them in a risen and glorified way that exceeds understanding on the last day. Just as no one could describe exactly what or how Jesus existed in the Resurrection, so shall we be. It is the soul that will be with God first, and when the body joins it in heaven, the joy of being with him will overflow to the body in a reunion. Filling the Big EmptyFor many years I was in this state of isolation, where the body and mind drift alone in time and space, and I gave not one thought to the idea of a soul. Armed with the sword of self-esteem and shield of physical strength, plus a basic aptitude for schoolwork, I did not need the soul. Except for whenever I came to the gaping maw of the cliff, on the edge of the abyss of emptiness I felt inside. Yes, then there was a real problem. The Big Empty - it was like a sensory deprivation tank that only offered madness, isolation, and the circular hell of racing thoughts. Once the problem of sadness bordering on madness started hitting hard, the need to firefight the problem became paramount. But no matter what I threw into the cavern of the Big Empty, it could not be filled. Booze, food, movies, accomplishments, sex, adventures, travel, competition, entertainment - it was always yawning and I could not look into the gaping void for long without trying something else, lest I might just jump into the pit. And belief in myself could not con my way out of it. The word confidence means “with faith” and what was odd was that the faith was to be placed in me, but myself was the problem, so when I refer to circular hell, this is the crux of the issue. Self-esteem requires trust in the self, but it is the self that cannot cure the self. This is how circular arguments blow up just like machines that spin out of control. Thus, getting good grades or winning in sports became the obvious outlet for many years. It was an outlet. Hitting the free throw at the end of a game was an elevator for self-esteem. But missing it, on the other hand, resulted in a different ending. Self-esteem didn't always put the ball in the net. You might say I reached “peak esteem” around 1989, right around the fall of the Berlin Wall and the withdrawal of the Soviets from Afghanistan, and like the Soviet Union it began to collapse after that. Unsurprisingly, the top-down lies of the Soviets began to be exposed around that time in full display, and so did my elementary school infusion of confidence. I still recall the day. I got off the bus on a dusty afternoon in May, and I grabbed the newspaper. The cover of the local newspaper showed a Soviet tank retreating from Afghanistan, the great graveyard of empires. For some reason that image impacts me to this day because something started to change around that time, unrelated to the unraveling of the Soviet Union. The “coming of age” was coming in a negative way. And I wasn't the only one noticing a problem. “For whatever reason,” said Dr. Jean Twenge, “…if you look at what was going on back then, the early 1990s were not a good time, particularly for young people.”No it was not. Maybe we needed the IALAC signs drug out again to hang around our necks, like paper millstones. Maybe we needed another trophy. Maybe we needed more one-on-one time. Maybe we needed to be more free to express ourselves and be more creative. Maybe we needed more reassurance and less discipline. Maybe we needed more field trips. Why weren't we happy? We had constant and endless fun! So much fun - always happy things, happy faces, smiles, positive vibes, feel-good shows, amusement parks, upbeat music. So why did the whole generation rush to the booze, weed, gangsta rap, and the grunge scene where self-destruction was the message? Could it be that getting wasted and wrecking “the precious” uniqueness became the only escape from the cult of self-esteem? I don't know. But that's what I did. Snoop Dogg, Nirvana, a liter of Jack, and a pack of Marlboros were the yang to the yin of self-esteem. I think what happened is a law of spiritual physics was broken. We were pumped so full of worldly self-esteem that we popped. On certain days, I recall my mom being able to read my face and know something was deeply wrong, despite my best efforts to hide it. And it was in that same year, 1989, that I started to doubt God and wonder how I could ever believe in the miracles that I had accepted just a few years before. And it was in that same year that I stopped looking for answers in heaven and focused more on science. And it was in that same year that I stopped saying my prayers at bedtime. There seemed only two ways out of the cult of self-esteem, and one way was to believe in myself to the end, to the extreme, and the other was to destroy myself so that I didn't have to think about it any longer. This is the danger of the fundamentalism of “believe in yourself.” This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit whydidpetersink.substack.com

Umami on kuopiolainen yritys, joka on perustettu vuonna 2021. Umami tarjoaa asiakkaalleen elämyksen, joka vie hänet aistikkaalle makumatkalle tapasten äärelle. Umamin perustaja on Suomessa syntynyt, mutta lähes koko ikänsä Espanjassa asunut Patricia Kuortti. Patricialle tapaskulttuuri, eri maut ja niiden yhdistelmät ovat elämän suola. Hänen toiveenaan onkin jakaa intohimoaan ja kokemuksiaan tapaksista nyt myös kaikille asiakkailleen. Patrician mielenkiintoisesta elämänpolusta, kokemuksista Espanjassa, tapaskulttuurista ja vinkeistä tämän aihealueen ääreltä saadaan mm. kuulla seuraavassa, kun Patricia Kuortti saapui Savon Aaltojen lauantaivieraaksi. Haastattelijana: Sami Turunen

We have come to the second month of 2023 with five Fridays in it, and so we look back at another memorable episode from our short history. This time we listen in to Owen and Sophie grappling for the first time with the relationship between what we used to call community art and ideas of cultural democracy. The term cultural democracy began to find favour among some people working in the British community arts movement in the 1980s. They used it to describe the goal and purpose of their work, once Roy Shaw, the Secretart General of the Arts Council of Great Britain, had begun to try to paint them as quaint missionaries. In The Arts and the People, Shaw wrote that: The efforts of community artists to serve ‘the people' in centres of urban decay or neglected rural areas are often admirable attempts to apply in cultural terms the principle which John Wesley commended when sending his methodist missionaries to the working class: ‘Go not to those that need you, but to those that need you most.' As François Matarasso once observed, “Patrician indeed”. As soon as it became clear that the Arts Council wanted to pretend that community arts had nothing to do with politics but only with a general wish to “do good”, many people began to look for an idea that could describe their ambitions in their own terms. Cultural Democracy became that idea and a conference in Sheffield in 1986 became the (not necessarily successful) attempt to launch the idea publicly.

Dr. Patricia (Trish) Manoharan obtained her doctorate in biostatistics and ecology, completed with the Centre of Excellence for Environmental Decisions at the University of Queensland. This amazing entrepreneurial woman has been the managing director for Brisbane Skin, the business development specialist for the Manoharan Group, and the managing director of Dermatology Clinics Australia. She is also the founder of Eczema Clinics Australia, Brisbane Skin, Psoriasis Clinics Australia, Vitiligo Clinics Australia, Dermatology Education. Trish shares her story – her challenges, her mentors along the way and words of wisdom to her younger self in a fascinating chat with Hanya Oversby   For more information on Trish, please click on this link https://www.linkedin.com/in/patriciamanoharan/?originalSubdomain=au   More information about Hanya Oversby can be found on https://hanyaoversby.com.au/

Pick Up & Deliver 538: Shadows: Amsterdam; Patrician; Dealing with Murder; revisiting Gravwell - Brendan shares his first impressions of three games he tried recently, and revisits an old favorite. Join us, won't you?

Pick Up & Deliver 538: Shadows: Amsterdam; Patrician; Dealing with Murder; revisiting Gravwell - Brendan shares his first impressions of three games he tried recently, and revisits an old favorite. Join us, won't you?

The Grand Patrician

The Patrician

In this episode, Tom is looking back the Patrician Brothers Boys Choir scene from 100 years ago. Ronnie is on part three of his series on Maamtrasna murdersYou can find the articles referenced in this podcast on www.advertiser.ie/galway

In this pick-me-up episode, we introduce you to the characters, companions, clowns, and survivors that are the dogs of the Toy group. Once seen as symbols of royalty and aristocracy, dogs of the Toy group were often the coveted spoils of revolutions, war, and palace coups. The refined elegance and charm of these compact dogs assisted in their survival and solidified their place in many decidedly non-royal homes of today. Join us as we look at how favorite breeds of kings, queens, monarchs, and fashionistas both plummeted and soared in popularity.   Bonafide Bits: Chihuahuas, originally named Techichis, were kept by the Toltecs to guide their human companions into the afterlife. Both Pekingese and Maltese are referred to as “lion dogs.” Aristotle called the elegant Maltese perfectly proportioned. In 1926, Roswell Eldridge Esquire offered a hefty purse to breeders who could replicate toy Spaniels of King Charles' time. In the 1500s, Dutch traders smuggled Pugs out of China where they would become mascots in Holland's House of Orange.   Featured Breeds: Pekingese Pekingese are compact, stocky toy dogs weighing up to 14 pounds. The coat is longest at the neck and shoulders, giving Pekes their famous “lion's mane.” Coats come in various reds, from golden red to darker shades. The large, short-muzzled head is a wider-than-long, envelope-shaped rectangle, and the eyes are large, dark, and sparkly. A unique feature of Pekes is their effortless “rolling” gait. Pekes are charming, confident companions who develop a tight bond with their favorite human. Bred to live in palaces, they can be as serenely independent as the emperors who owned them. (They're “opinionated,” Peke people say.) Ever alert, they make good watchdogs. Pekes will tolerate kids but won't stand for a lot of roughhousing. Discover more about Pekingese at AKC's Pekingese Breed Biography.   Chihuahua The Chihuahua is a balanced, graceful dog of terrier-like demeanor, weighing no more than six pounds. The rounded “apple” head is a breed hallmark. The erect ears and full, luminous eyes are acutely expressive. Coats come in many colors and patterns and can be long or short. The varieties are identical except for the coat. Chihuahuas possess loyalty, charm, and a big-dog attitude. Even tiny dogs require training, and without it, this clever scamp will rule your household like a little Napoleon. Compact and confident, Chihuahuas are ideal city pets. They are too small for roughhousing with kids, and special care must be taken in cold weather, but Chihuahuas are adaptable as long as they get lots of quality time in their preferred lap. Discover more about Chihuahuas at AKC's Chihuahua Breed Biography.   Maltese The tiny Maltese, “Ye Ancient Dogge of Malta,” has been sitting in the lap of luxury since the Bible was a work in progress. Famous for their show-stopping, floor-length coat, Maltese are playful, charming, and adaptable toy companions. Discover more about Malteses at AKC's Maltese Breed Biography.   Papillon The quick, curious Papillon is a toy dog of singular beauty and upbeat athleticism. Despite his refined appearance, the Pap is truly a “doggy dog” blessed with a hardy constitution. Papillon fanciers describe their breed as happy, alert, and friendly. A tiny dog, measuring 8 to 11 inches at the shoulder, you can still spot a Papillon a block away thanks to the large, wing-shaped ears that give the breed its name (“papillon” is French for “butterfly”). Some Paps have erect ears; in others, known as the Phalene type, the ears are down. Paps are dainty and elegant, with a plumed tail, and a long, silky coat of several color combinations, the base color being white. More robust than they look, Paps are little dogs for all seasons and reasons. They thrive in warm or cool climates, in town or country, and are eager to join the family fun. They are excellent agility dogs and are consistent winners at the sport's highest levels; less ambitious owners can train them to do all kinds of tricks. Discover more about Papillons at AKC's Papillon Breed Biography.   Cavalier King Charles Spaniel The Cavalier King Charles Spaniel wears his connection to British history in his breed's name. Cavaliers are the best of two worlds, combining the gentle attentiveness of a toy breed with the verve and athleticism of a sporting spaniel. Discover more about Cavalier King Charles Spaniels at AKC's King Charles Spaniel Breed Biography.   English Toy Spaniel The ETS is a square, snub-nosed toy weighing no more than 14 pounds. The large domed head with its long and lush ears, dark melting eyes, and chubby cheeks is a famous breed trait. The profuse coat comes in four varieties, each with its own proper name: red and white (Blenheim); black and tan (King Charles); white, black, and tan (Prince Charles); and a solid red (Ruby). Blenheims often have a red mark, the 'Blenheim Spot,' on top of the head. The ETS, like many toy breeds kept by royals, came to assume the personalities of their aristocratic owners. They can be proud and willful, and extremely discriminating in their choice of friends. With their favored humans, they are affectionate at home and exuberant and curious at play. Discover more about English Toy Spaniels at AKC's English Toy Spaniel Breed Biography.   Pug Once the mischievous companion of Chinese emperors, and later the mascot of Holland's royal House of Orange, the small but solid Pug is today adored by his millions of fans around the world. Pugs live to love and to be loved in return. The Pug's motto is the Latin phrase “multum in parvo” (a lot in a little), an apt description of this small but muscular breed. They come in three colors: silver or apricot-fawn with a black face mask, or all black. The large round head, the big, sparkling eyes, and the wrinkled brow give Pugs a range of human-like expressions, such as surprise, happiness, and curiosity that have delighted owners for centuries. Pug owners say their breed is the ideal house dog. Pugs are happy in the city or country, with kids or old folks, as an only pet, or in a pack. They enjoy their food, and care must be taken to keep them trim. They do best in moderate climates “not too hot, not too cold” but, with proper care, Pugs can be their adorable selves anywhere. Discover more about Pugs at AKC's Pug Breed Biography.   Italian Greyhound A true Greyhound in miniature, the elegant Italian Greyhound is an alert, playful, and highly affectionate toy companion. IGs make decorative couch dogs, but at heart, they are flash-and-dash coursing hounds with an instinct for pursuit. Discover more about Italian Greyhounds at AKC's Italian Greyhound Breed Biography.   Silky Terrier Small but not fragile, feisty but not yappy, pretty but not sculpted, Silkys are 10-inch-tall dynamos animated by curiosity and high spirits. The glorious blue-and-tan coat is straight and glossy, and it feels and behaves much like human hair. The wedge-shaped head is topped by profuse hair parted down the middle, and erect V-shaped ears draw attention to the keen, piercing expression of the almond-shaped eyes. Silky Terriers are more refined than typical ratting terriers, but they should still look and behave like a true earth dog. Discover more about Silky Terriers at AKC's Silky Terrier Breed Biography.   Yorkshire Terrier Beneath the dainty, glossy, floor-length coat of a Yorkshire Terrier beats the heart of a feisty, old-time terrier. Yorkies earned their living as ratters in mines and mills long before they became the beribboned lapdogs of Victorian ladies. The Yorkshire Terrier is a compact, toy-size terrier of no more than seven pounds whose crowning glory is a floor-length, silky coat of steel blue and a rich golden tan. Don't let the Yorkie's daintiness fool you. Tenacious, feisty, brave, and sometimes bossy, the Yorkie exhibits all the traits of a true terrier. Often named the most popular dog breed in various American cities, Yorkies pack lots of big-town attitude into a small but self-important package. They are favorites of urbanites the world over. Yorkies are long-lived and hypoallergenic (the coat is more like human hair than animal fur), and they make fine little watchdogs. This is a true “personality breed,” providing years of laughs, love, and close companionship. Discover more about Yorkshire Terriers at AKC's Yorkshire Terrier Breed Biography.   Pomeranian The tiny Pomeranian, long a favorite of royals and commoners alike, has been called the ideal companion. The glorious coat, smiling, foxy face, and vivacious personality have helped make the Pom one of the world's most popular toy breeds. Discover more about Pomeranians at AKC's Pomeranian Breed Biography.   For more information about a specific breed visit the breed's parent club or AKC.org.   Shareables: If you see a pack of Pugs, you have seen a grumble. During a storm at sea, King James II of England requested his Spaniels be saved before adding that the rescuers should also save his son. As a symbol of affluence in ancient Rome, upper-crust Patrician women flaunted Maltese as fashion accessories.

In this final fourth part of our Thud! trilogy, Liz and Ben are rejoined by designer and educator Matt Roden. As we wait for the biscuits to arrive, we turn our attention to this month's agenda items: the 2005 Discworld short story “A Collegiate Casting-Out of Devilish Devices”, and squeezing in a bit more discussion of Thud! Every Thursday the senior faculty of Unseen University have a committee meeting, during which they do very little except wait for the biscuits and tea to arrive - much to the annoyance of Ponder Stibbons. But this week, Ridcully announces that their latest magical mishap has annoyed the Patrician - and as a result, they have a few questions to answer from one A. E. Pessimal, newly appointed “Inspector of Universities”... Written for the Times Higher Education Supplement and published a few months before Thud!, this very short story draws on Pratchett's own experience on a committee. Does it tally with yours? Are you a Ponder, a Ridcully, or a Pessimal? Do you agree with Matt's characterisations of the other faculty members? Plus we get back into Thud! - are we off the mark with our thoughts about whether it's copaganda? What is Pratchett trying to say about religious extremism, if anything? And what Discworld cocktail would you make? Join the conversation using the hashtag #Pratchat63. Guest Matt Roden was here just two months ago for #Pratchat61 discussing Thud! He is still the Creative Learning Manager for the Museum of Contemporary Art Australia, as well as an accomplished graphic designer and educator. There are now even more photos of his dog on his Instagram at @matthewrodeo. You'll find notes and errata for this episode on our web site. We're easing into the year slowly with another short story for February, this time one of Pratchett's earliest: “Rincemangle, the Gnome of Even Moor” from his time at the Bucks Free Press in 1974. Its available in both A Blink of the Screen and The Witch's Vacuum Cleaner. Send us your questions about it using the hashtag #Pratchat64, or via email, which you can send to chat@pratchatpodcast.com. Oh, and don't forget to check out the all-new Pratchat Reading Challenge for 2023! All the details are on our website, and you'll also find it on the StoryGraph.

A group of bored employees at a small pizza parlor are offered a hit of the newest drug, Raisins. They take the drug and find out it's a trip of a lifetime. Caleb is playtesting this game a second time on RPPR. Keep an eye on Hebanon Game's Patreon for future updates for this game!

Tonight's snoozy tale is the continuation of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain. Published in 1881, it is the story of two boys, born on the same day, identical in appearance, and from very different backgrounds. In this episode, Tom meets the King.Interested in more sleepy content or just want to support the show? Join Just Sleep Premium here: https://justsleeppodcast.com/supportAs a Just Sleep Premium member you will receive:Ad-free and Intro-free episodesThe entire audiobook of the Wizard of OzA collection of short fairy tales including Rapunzel and the Frog PrinceAn additional 2 episodes every monthThe chance to vote on the next story that you hearThe chance to win readings just for youThe entire back catalogue of the podcast, ad and intro-free (coming soon!)Thanks for your support!Sweet Dreams...Intro Music by the Psychedelic Squirrel Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Brother Colm O'Connell, the “godfather of Kenyan Running,” is a Patrician monk from Cork County, Ireland. Brother Colm came to St. Patrick's High School in Iten, Kenya in 1976 to teach geography. Brother Colm knew little about running or coaching when he volunteered to coach St. Patrick's athletics team. In the 46 years he has lived in Iten, Brother Colm has coached scores of world record holders and Olympic medalists, including David Rudisha, Lornah Kiplagat, Ibrahim Hussein, Isaac Songok, and Mary Keitany. Brother Colm has been crucial in turning the small, remote village of Iten, Kenya in the Great Rift Valley into the world's most significant center of long-distance running talent. In this podcast, Brother Colm offers us his philosophy and spirituality of coaching elite athletes.

The holiday season is upon us and the patrician class is no exception. As they celebrate, one member of the upper crust has a special drink in mind - a cocktail with a kick that will make all who taste it feel the Christmas spirit.

Welcome to a new episode of The Last Standee Podcast! After the usual Standee Catch-up (which is a bit off-time, let's call it vintage and be happy with it), Cara and David talk about Sleeping Gods. After the dangers of the Slumbering Seas, Fen teaches us about Vikings preparing a feast by means of several games-inside-games with A Feast For Odin. To end the episode, Alessio recounts the ups and... ups, to be honest, of being a Patrician family of traders in Concordia (when you prepare a feast and need wine, you want the good stuff, after all!)

Finally I get to talking about what I love, and that's plastic, In this episode, we talk about Boontonware, made by Boonton Molding Company that was then located on Myrtle Avenue in Boonton, New Jersey.  Belle Kogan's  gorgeous design with her widely popular Boonton Belle and Scandia in the Patrician line are some of my favorite things.  Enjoy a little history with a walk back in time. This podcast was sponsored by Etsy shop:  https://www.etsy.com/shop/Sdikhermd who offers great graphic designs in their Etsy shop in the form of hats, comfy clothing and more!  Click on the link to check it out or go to my shop favorites!Boontonware Factory Tour Link: Melmac Central Vintage Melmac Dinnerware and Plastics Fantastic Collecting Site : Boonton Melmac Factory Tour Stop One : This Was The Melamine Factory (retrochalet.blogspot.com)Listeners, make sure to share, like and give my podcast a great rating to keep me talking :) Connect with #RetroChalet on all major social media platforms for great vintage pictures and on tiktok.com/@retrochalet for vintage style videos. 

More great books at LoyalBooks.com

Coriolanus was an orphan, a Patrician and a Roman with Roman-sized ambitions who wouldn't let anyone get in his way on the road to glory, fame and prominence. Hope you enjoy!Chris & RyanSupport the show (https://www.paypal.com/donate?hosted_button_id=RLVZ3VNNPSRAL)

Content warnings for this episode include: mild existential dread, violence against animals and people, reanimated corpses, war and dying in war, body horror, explosion of a building/city, and discussion of misogyny and implied incest.As we conclude Pyramids, uuhhh Teppic kills a pyramid, and everybody's narrative arcs come to satisfying conclusions just like always. Thanks Terry!This week in the Disc-Course: the pickle defender, Christopher Lee voice, 6000 slutty slutty years, gay little fun scenes, Assassins Creed, symbolism, mob justice, desert power, the horse respecter, customer feedback, son dad, youtube apology video, too many Mosai, the old razzle dazzle, new ref sheets, funny carpet girl, monetize the rot(ting corpses), shout outs to cube guy, the cow dream, whole new meaning, 50% of Pharaohs, dry aqueducts, and causing 7000 years worth of problems.For those playing along at home: Read up to page 52 in Guards, Guards! (depending on your edition of the book), ending on the line: "But seeing the head thief discommoded was always worth the trouble, the Patrician felt."Click here for some cubesClick here for Hisuian Voltorb who is our friend-----You can email us at thedisccoursepod@gmail.com, follow the show @thedisccourse on twitter, or find us in the phonebook under Zlorf!Our theme music is by Maxie Satan; find her on bandcamp at Pastel Hand Grenade. She rules. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Coriolanus was an orphan, a Patrician and a Roman with Roman-sized ambitions who wouldn't let anyone get in his way on the road to glory, fame and prominence. Hope you enjoy!Chris & RyanSupport the show (https://www.paypal.com/donate?hosted_button_id=RLVZ3VNNPSRAL)

While Jingo is broadly classified as a Guards book, it really is the beginning of a series of Sam Vimes books with the Watch in orbit around him. There's also a LOT of our favorite carnivorous flamingo, The Patrician himself.  There's submarine action, a plot head-fake that would be at home in film noir or Tom Clancy, and lots and lots of politics.It also marks an inflection point in Discworld novels, at least to those of us very familiar with them. Sam very much finds who he will be in the back half of the Discworld library in this book, and much of the commentary that happens around the plot is clearly Sir Terry rethinking some of his earlier easy stereotypes.Our guest Scott Paladin can be found on twitter @scottpaladin and online at scottpaladin.com, as cohost on the Monster Mechanics Podcast @monstermpod and monsterpod.org, and as writer/director/editor on the Breathing Space, Fading Frontier audio drama @BreathingXSpace breathingspace.lawofnames.com.Check us out on twitter at @atuin_podHelp us keep the lights on via our Patreon!Follow individual hosts at @urizenxvii, @The_Miannai, and @JustenwritesWe can also be found at www.compleatdiscography.pageOur art is by the indomitable Jess who can be found at @angryartist113Music is by Incompetech and used under a Creative Commons 4.0 Attribution license.Take a Chance by Kevin MacLeodLink: https://incompetech.filmmusic.io/song/4457-take-a-chanceFuzzball Parade by Kevin MacLeodLink: https://incompetech.filmmusic.io/song/5044-fuzzball-paradeLicense: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

"We have to prove Christ to this people all over again. This moment is Patrician... We are back to Patrick. And you're back to facing a crowd of painted Irish warriors who are planning to sacrifice you for the evening because there's nothing on the telly." Join Fr. Brendan Kilcoyne for episode 29 of 'The Brendan Option' where he discusses the price of the apostolate in modern-day Ireland. Visit our website: http://www.immaculataproductions.org #Irish #Christian #God #JesusChrist #CatholicMedia #Catholic #Christianity #Orthodox #Tradition #Ireland #TheBrendanOption #ImmaculataProductions - - - ---------------- SUPPORT US ---------------- Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/immaculataproductions PayPal: https://www.paypal.me/ImmaculataProctions Our work won't be possible without your help. Thank you! ...And a special thank you to those who have already given us so much support! ---------------- FOLLOW US ---------------- There's the Benedict option, the Dominic option, and now we have the Brendan Option! Whilst you would have found St. Brendan voyaging the seas, our very own Brendan can be found as you surf the net. ⛵️ ✔ W E B S I T E http://www.immaculataproductions.org ✔ F A C E B O O K http://facebook.com/ImmaculataProductions ✔ I N S T A G R A M http://instagram.com/ImmaculataProductions ✔ T W I T T E R http://twitter.com/ImmaculataMedia ✔ L I N K E D I N https://www.linkedin.com/in/ImmaculataProductions ✔ V I M E O https://www.vimeo.com/ImmaculataProductions ✔ E M A I L info@immaculataproductions.org All Rights Reserved © 2021, Immaculata Productions

The only surviving contemporary texts that provide insight into the life of Saint Patrick were both written by the legendary patron saint of Ireland. By Patrick's own account, his life and ministry were controversial in his day, and the myths and legends that have surrounded this enigmatic Christian leader have continued to generate speculation and curiosity to the present day.  Roy Flechner (University College Dublin) brings the the best available critical tools to the task of seeking to reconstruct Saint Patrick's life and mission in Saint Patrick Retold: The Legend and History of Ireland's Patron Saint (Princeton UP, 2019). What emerges is a vivid relief that fills in the gaps of what we can know about this characteristically guarded autobiographer from the best available scholarship of late Roman Britain. Flechner's account promises to serve as a standard text in the long tradition of Patrician scholarship for decades to come, and takes seriously Patrick's own accounts of the conflicts that surrounded his early disappearance from his native Britain and his sojourns on the emerald isle. Saint Patrick Retold won the Hagiography Society Book Prize in 2020, and is just releasing in paperback edition March of 2021.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The only surviving contemporary texts that provide insight into the life of Saint Patrick were both written by the legendary patron saint of Ireland. By Patrick's own account, his life and ministry were controversial in his day, and the myths and legends that have surrounded this enigmatic Christian leader have continued to generate speculation and curiosity to the present day.  Roy Flechner (University College Dublin) brings the the best available critical tools to the task of seeking to reconstruct Saint Patrick's life and mission in Saint Patrick Retold: The Legend and History of Ireland's Patron Saint (Princeton UP, 2019). What emerges is a vivid relief that fills in the gaps of what we can know about this characteristically guarded autobiographer from the best available scholarship of late Roman Britain. Flechner's account promises to serve as a standard text in the long tradition of Patrician scholarship for decades to come, and takes seriously Patrick's own accounts of the conflicts that surrounded his early disappearance from his native Britain and his sojourns on the emerald isle. Saint Patrick Retold won the Hagiography Society Book Prize in 2020, and is just releasing in paperback edition March of 2021.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Episode 48 – 300k— “Do you declare, from your heart, to possess a wife?”A census and a wedding. Rome passes 300 thousand inhabitants, and the Samnites are beaten at Aquilonia.Parcial TranscriptHello, this is Abel, speaking from Beijing, China. Welcome to my podcast.The Tale of Rome, Episode 48 — 300k.When Lucius Eugenius, Spurius Attius, and young Tatius got a glimpse of the hills surrounding Rome, their spirits went up.All three made the walk home, all the way from the north — and all three were now war veterans.For a Roman — and ordinary Roman — that's no small feat!And so, once they were down with all the military formalities and once they showed up on their home street,, their women, their children, their slaves, they all walked out to welcome them home!The DOMUS — house — Lucius Eugenius managed to build with their work, spanned two homes next to each other, a corral for raw materials, and a workshop, right across the street.Plus, a small garden behind the second house.This was a piece of real estate that Lucius managed to buy right after the Big War, from an impoverished Patrician.And of course, we are not counting that around 50 slaves were now working at the workshop, and a dozen or so were busy tending to the needs of the ever growing family.Life wasn't that bad, after all!And after they all settled back in, and once Lucius sat in his favorite reclining chair — Laurentia, his wife, reminded him in a casual tone:— “In five days we have to walk to the Field of Mars, husband. Town criers have been announcing the event, for days, now…”Lucius sighed.Another census.Everyone hated a census.The tables of the censors, they so-called Tabulae Censoriae in Latin, were piling up in forums already, to be taken to the field, the day of the census. From Equestrians and Senators, down to the last and lowest Roman, if you were in one of those five social levels, designed by long-gone King Tullius Servius, you had to go.Plebe or Patrician, everyone had to be there.— “We'll take Julia this time,” old Lucius said. “And Spurius, too.”— “What about his fiancee?” asked Laurentia.Lucius paused for a second. Good question. Then he replied.— “No. We haven't finished all the arrangements, yet. All this fighting. Let her go with the Furnii. The censors will be liking that — looks more respectful.”In his mind, Lucius cursed the constant wars Rome had, but he knew he couldn't do a thing about them.Besides, WARS were making him rich.Quite rich indeed.And this richness allowed for Spurius to soon-to-be-wedding a girl of the Furnii, a respectable — even though Plebeian— family.The Furnii were also one of the oldest families, according to the annals of ancient Rome.And according to Dionysius of Halicarnassus, a man named Gaius Furnius — that's F — U — R — N — I — U — S — came to be a tribune of the plebes, back in the year 445 BC, and that was something Lucius Eugenius respected a lot.And so — in a few week's time, Spurius Attius, the young veteran of the Battle of Sentinum, would take a daughter of the Furnii as his wife.Not bad for the family!All right, my dear listeners.As you can see, today we have two topics.A wedding and a census.And that means, that after our Latin Word of this episode, we'll see how Romans went about having a census, and then — how they organized a wedding in those not-so-high circles of society.The society of ancient Rome.Now, please be aware that both — weddings and censuses — have had their fair share of evolution in the one thousand years of Roman history, which means that I tried my best — to keep these two events, match the times we are living in, right now.Which is the beginning of the third century BC.Oh, and after that, we have the next battle against the Samnites, the battle of Aquilonia, and here goes a little spoiler in the story that follows.Let me explain.Right after the battle of Aquilonia, a plague will break out in Rome — one of the larger ones — and we'll be talking about how a new deity named Aesculapius — adopted from its Greek counterpart named Asclepius, became a world-wide symbol, today — recognized by a serpent bent over a fountain or wrapped around a staff, as if spilling its venom — to be used as an antidote — as a cure.This serpent can be seen almost all over the world, in pharmacies, hospitals, medical centers, Centers for Disease Control, and even as part of the logo of the WHO — World Health Organization.The other spoiler is that we'll soon have the result of our upcoming census, and hey — we'll know just how many people lived in Rome. Those numbers used to be published on plates all over Rome, especially in the Roman Forum.[…]

The Watch attempts to foil a plot to assassinate the Patrician. Again.