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This week Landon and Jeremiah discuss what happened in Austin FC's 0-3 loss to Minnesota and preview the US Open Cup match against El Paso. Other questions and topics include:- Did the players deserve boos?- Actually, curses ARE real- Best 8 minutes of the season- Does Austin need a bad cop?- Cincinatti delivers another loss- Pedantic defensive debate- MLS Roster Profile update- Atlanta United Preview (1:11:55)- Vancouver Whitecaps Preview (1:19:22)- Join the Patreon- Free Ticket Giveaway by Sage Wilson Realty- much moreMoontower Soccer is brought to you by FVF Law and McGuire Woods ConsultingSupport the show
The crew of the Little Snail, traveling food truck and makeshift HQ for this band of equally makeshift adventurers, has agreed to escort a young priestess named Veile to a mysterious destination. Within days, they met their first obstacle: a group of mischievous Fleggs who've vandalized the Little Snail and sabotaged the way forward… This week on Perpetua: The Shadow of the Dragon Tower Pt. 02 Perpetua Guide [In Progress v.01] NPCs & Monsters [PNMS] Flegg [NMFL] Typical Traits: Mischievous, Anxious, Clever, Family Oriented Stats: DEX 8, INS 8, MIG 8, WLP 8 Attacks: Flegg Strike, Infuriate, Flegg Blast Special Abilities: Final Act: Stoneshell In-Game Description: A living egg. It comes up to your shins. It has a beak!? These guys must be a little different than they were in the demo, because they definitely didn't have the ability to turn into a stone when you killed them in Prelude. I wonder if something happened to them between the game or if the designers just rebalanced them? Anyway, they're a basic enemy type, pretty good for grinding, but don't underestimate how they can overwhelm you in a group. Starter Tip: Even though they're “monsters” you can actually try to use Persuasion on them! Vinnor Jekk (he/him) [NMVJ] Traits: Devoted, Optimistic, Pedantic, Arrogant Stats: ??? Attacks: ??? Spells: ??? In-Game Description: Solivigant of the Way of Fearless Truth who seeks to enact a world-saving prophecy. I can't tell what I think about this guy. Either he's going to betray the party and become a mid-game boss or he's just one of those guys you hate to talk to even though he's technically right about everything. No clue about stats/attacks/spells (because let's be real, this guy DEFINITELY has spells). Starter Tip: Depending on your dialog choices you can get a chance to snoop through his stuff to get more lore. Chelik, Awakened Dragon Watcher (she/her) [NMCH] Traits: Wise, Focused, Out-of-Her-Time, Melancholy Stats: DEX 6, INS 10, MIG 6, WLP 10 Attacks: Elemental Charge Spells: Ice Beam, Flame Breath In-Game Description: Recently revived scryer of the Dragon Watchers. I can't stress this enough: Chelik is an optional boss. Unless you have done a bunch of grinding, she's probably out of your range when you first meet her. Yes, you can get some really decent gear if you manage to knock her out, but I think it's probably worth trying to avoid the fight all together (or else use the Persuade command to try to escape it). Starter Tip: If she's using Elemental Charge, that means she's low on MP and you can probably push the advantage a little! Hosted by Austin Walker (austinwalker.bsky.social) FeaturingAli Acampora (ali-online.bsky.social), Art Martinez-Tebbel (amtebbel.bsky.social), Jack de Quidt (notquitereal.bsky.social), and Andrew Lee Swan (swandre3000.bsky.social) Produced by Ali Acampora Music by Jack de Quidt (available on bandcamp) Cover Art by Ben McEntee (https://linktr.ee/benmce.art) With thanks to Amelia Renee, Arthur B., Aster Maragos, Bill Kaszubski, Cassie Jones, Clark, DB, Daniel Laloggia, Diana Crowley, Edwin Adelsberger, Emrys, Greg Cobb, Ian O'Dea, Ian Urbina, Irina A., Jack Shirai, Jake Strang, Katie Diekhaus, Ken George, Konisforce, Kristina Harris Esq, L Tantivy, Lawson Coleman, Mark Conner, Mike & Ruby, Muna A, Nat Knight, Olive Perry, Quinn Pollock, Robert Lasica, Shawn Drape, Shawn Hall, Summer Rose, TeganEden, Thomas Whitney, Voi, chocoube, deepFlaw, fen, & weakmint This episode was made with support from listeners like you! To support us, you can go to friendsatthetable.cash.
It's Week 6 of the Ranking Season at The Dynasty Guru and we're ranking the catchers!Who might keep catcher eligibility, what are the Diamondbacks doing, and who forgot Joe Mack?Chris and Drew preview the TDG Prospect and Dynasty Rankings for first base, giving their take on some of the risers, fallers, and possible bounce back candidates. Be sure to check the full lists this week on TheDynastyGuru.comAnd back by popular demand and still waiting for this year's first entry, the RIOT contest. If you're the first to correctly identify the Randomly Inserted Obscure song Title, we'll give you a free pass into the TDG Discord! And if you guess the most correctly all season long, you'll get a free pass to next year's Discord.Timestamps:2:30 Catchers who DH12:00 Samuel Basallo13:20 Dalton Rushing14:50 Moises Ballesteros18:30 Drake Baldwin21:20 Edgar Quero23:15 Eduardo Tait24:35 Adrian del Castillo28:00 Blake Mitchell29:40 Carter Jensen32:00 Joe Mack34:53 Harry Ford38:25 Alfredo Duno41:50 Cooper Ingle43:50 Rainiel Rodriguez46:50 William Contreras, Adley Rutschman48:30 Cal Raleigh50:05 Sean Murphy53:35 Austin WellsFind us on BlueSky:Drew: @drewgotigers.bsky.socialChris: @notnotcknock.bsky.socialJoinTheRanks: @jointheranks.bsky.socialIntro and Outro Voiceover provided by Coleson Probst coprovoice@gmail.comIntro Music: One Fine Day by Keep Calm and Podcast On (Podcast.co)Thanks for tuning in!
Remember that 1998 film Antz? The one about an ant named Z?The one where the ants had nightmare-inducing human teeth? The one we probably have to blame for the existence of Jerry Seinfeld's Bee Movie?Considering the movie is all about ants, you'd think it'd get SOMETHING right about ants. But Hollywood has once again LIED TO US.Do male ants have any jobs outside the boudoir? Can ants breathe? Do ants have creepy little human teeth?Ann Jones sets out to be pedANTic and find the facts in the fiction.Featuring:Dr Kirsti Abbott, ant lover and head of science at the Museum and Art Gallery of the Northern TerritoryFurther reading:Social isolation causes mortality by disrupting energy homeostasis in antsProduction:Ann Jones, Presenter / ProducerNat Tencic, ProducerRebecca McLaren, ProducerIsabella Tropiano, additional masteringThis episode of What the Duck?! was produced on the lands of the Wadawarrung, Wurundjeri Woi Wurrung, Taungurung, and Kaurna people.If you want to hear more "What the Duck?" episodes- please like and subscribe here.
Welcome, fellow geeks and board game aficionados!
【お仕事募集中です！】 お仕事依頼は info@pedantic.jp までお気軽にどうぞ！オウンドメディア制作代行を中心として、何でもご相談ください！ ゆる言語学ラジオ、今年もよろしくお願いします！「外注費月650万!? 謎の会社pedanticの内情」「目標発行部数3万部。単著に懸けた思い」「英語を鍛え直して、洋書を読み通したい」など、会社・個人それぞれの目標について話しました。 【pedanticが制作代行しているチャンネル】 ◯積読チャンネル https://www.youtube.com/@tsundoku-ch ◯コードギアスチャンネル CODEGEASS Channel https://www.youtube.com/@CODEGEASS_Ch 【目次】 00:00 ゆる言語学ラジオ解散の危機 00:37 謎の運営会社の正体は？ 07:33 株式会社pedanticの野望 27:50 今年の目標 : 自分の可能性を閉じる 44:49 ひとりの目標とふたりの目標 54:55 翻訳に頼らず英語の文献を理解したい 1:09:30 堀元訳『キンゼイ報告』 1:11:31 今年もよろしくお願いします！ 【話に出た本のリンク】 ◯カモのネギには毒がある https://amzn.to/3WtMNT3 ◯動物たちは何をしゃべっているか https://amzn.to/3ChMAf2 https://www.valuebooks.jp/bp/VS0087673302 ◯復刻版 言語オタクが友だちに700日間語り続けて引きずり込んだ言語沼 https://www.valuebooks.jp/bp/VS0058755147 ◯きょう、ゴリラをうえたよ 愉快で深いこどものいいまちがい集 https://amzn.to/40Fkaox https://www.valuebooks.jp/bp/VS0063270516 ◯教養悪口本 https://www.valuebooks.jp/bp/VS0082362997 【ゆる学徒ラジオ系列すべての公式グッズ】 https://www.valuebooks.jp/shelf-items/folder/4362babbae09d77 【サポーターコミュニティへの加入はこちらから！】 https://yurugengo.com/support 【我々の初の著書『言語沼』はこちら！】 https://www.valuebooks.jp/bp/VS0058755147 【実店舗プロジェクト：ゆる学徒カフェ】 https://www.youtube.com/@yurugakuto 【姉妹チャンネル：ゆるコンピュータ科学ラジオ】 https://www.youtube.com/@yurucom 【Twitterあるよ！】 ゆる言語学ラジオのTwitterアカウントがあるので、是非フォローしてください！面白語源ネタなどが流れてきてあなたの知識欲が満たされます。 →https://twitter.com/yuru_gengo 【おたよりフォーム】 https://forms.gle/mTGM7A9QNqgjZMgN7 ※皆様からの楽しいおたよりをお待ちしています！ 【お仕事依頼はこちら！】 info@pedantic.jp 【堀元見プロフィール】 慶應義塾大学理工学部卒。専攻は情報工学。理屈っぽいコンテンツを作り散らかすことで生計を立てている。 Twitter→https://twitter.com/kenhori2 noteマガジン→https://note.com/kenhori2/m/m125fc4524aca 個人YouTube→https://www.youtube.com/@kenHorimoto 【水野太貴プロフィール】 名古屋大学文学部卒。専攻は言語学。出版社で雑誌編集者として勤務。言語学の知識が本業に活きているかと思いきや、そうでもない。 Twitter→https://twitter.com/yuru_mizuno 【BGM提供】 ・フリーBGM・音楽素材MusMus様 https://musmus.main.jp ・OtoLogic様 https://otologic.jp/
Don't have time to listen to the full show? We got you covered on the Nathan, Nat & Shaun Quickie, all the best bits from Tuesday, 12th of November's episode!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Lords: * Xalavier * Brianne Topics: * Why do movies about contract killers skip over the good part of negotiating in excruciating detail the contract and clauses present? * Are fictional characters greater role models than real people? * The new Zelda game talks too much and I'm okay with that * Think of Others by Mahmoud Darwish * https://www.ayearofbeinghere.com/2014/11/mahmoud-darwish-think-of-others.html * Should every person be forcibly drafted into a customer service job, like the military. * The horrible things I would do in the Criterion Closet, if given an opportunity. * Jim's evidence for why The Pest is memorable: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cAB8dNMoXZ0 Microtopics: * I Am Your Beast. * Making 50 games in 7 years. * A co-op Kaiju horror cooking game * The Name of the Rose meets Godzilla meets Lethal Company. * Power couples in games. * Moviegoers who want to know about contract law. * Search and replacing "murder" with "unalive" so that a contact killer can safely sue the client for breach of contact. * Pedantic legal contact killer law every week. * Lowering the bar so that we can all raise it later. * Doctor Odyssey. * Disheveled Detective. * The Autistic Coded Detective. * A ahow about autistic people written by neurotypical people. * Making a weekly podcast and scoffing at the TV shows that can only manage 24 episodes a year. * Asking google for the "podcast with the fewest episodes" and google just assuming you meant the podcast with the shortest running time. * Sending children to the sharps dump. (Because the kid asked for it and the parent signed a waiver.) * Desperately knocking on Google's door and beginning them to tell you where the furthest Denny's is. * The Waluigi-owned Denny's in the Andromeda Galaxy. * Role Models happening accidentally. * Donald Duck becoming a sex pest after edgier writers take over. * A form of self to aspire to. * 300 Rorschach Guys in a discord server. * An epic story that FromSoft will continue to plunder of its biggest plot elements for the next 30 years. * A character that you relate to and then you realize that's bad. * What do you do after you get what you want? * Leading a horde of ninja at the dictates of an Eldritch god. * Getting what you've been looking for and realizing that you're no longer the person who wanted that thing. * Role-playing a princess who has to talk to a litany of insufferable people. * Swinging your sword through grass to reveal rupees. * Zelda's Got an Onus. * Who you're thinking about as you pay your water bills. * Those who are nursed by clouds. * Shakespeare beeves. * GettingTikTok Mad. * The Death of Arthur. * Impacting media literacy for generations because you want to make a sassy pun. * Slipping into Belgian because you don't have enough mana to speak French. * The red phone in every publicly traded franchise restaurant that connects the customer directly to a random shareholder. * Working a Black Friday at a retail job and being awarded a purple heart. * Working a Best Buy Geek Squad tour of service to earn your citizenship. * The Criterion Closet. * The level of stardom you need to attain in order to remove movies from the Criterion Collection. * Supermarket Sweep. * Asking someone who took one year of high school French what you call someone who owns a closet. * I would not be normal and they would not be safe. * Landed noblemen who are super into Amontillado. * Where to lock the insufferable friend who went to film school. * How many Miami Vice episodes ended up in the Criterion Collection. * The movie that you remember the least. * Forgiving the insufferable film school attendees in your life because you can't think of a good punishment for them.
The article: https://lunduke.locals.com/post/6052448/pop-os-lead-linux-developers-are-patronizing-pedantic-megalomaniacs More from The Lunduke Journal: https://lunduke.com/ This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lunduke.substack.com/subscribe
This week on Fairy Tale Fix: Abbie reads the monstrous tale of The Man Whale, a story that tells us who exactly are the most terrifying and treacherous of sea creatures (spoiler: it's dead beat dads). Kelsey tells the Siberian tale of The Maiden Suvarna from the now-available Ruth Manning-Sanders A Book of Ghosts and Goblins, where things aren't quite what they seem.
Ep 230, Recorded 7/24/2024. Torch Songs. Pedantic Minutiae. Doctor Not-Vegas. Interrupted Journey. Olympic-Style. Community Standards. Not immune from stupidity. Whales/Not Whales. Tennis wings. Dewayne is a master electrician. Todd talks about Bruno.
Ep. 78- Jesus Gets Pedantic - Matthew 17.14-21 by Beer and Bible
There's a new Star Wars show out on Disney +. It's set 130 years before events of the first Star Wars movie. Did technology development just stop?
This podcast covers episodes 11,276 to 11,280. A moment of madness from Sarah threatens to destroy the case against Nathan, while Griff takes Roy hostage in his prison cell and the fate of Racist Kelly is finally revealed. Roscoe is clumsy. Bobby has no comment. Kit is enormous.
Two pedestrians collide fatefully. by maxicue. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Joe slid through the crowd on the street, not in a hurry, just enjoying it, like it was some kind of game, call it Body Avoidance, a challenge of finding the gaps just large enough to pass through untouched while the bodies continued moving in somewhat predictable ways, though the unpredictable could always happen, adding to the challenge and the fun, that quick burst bypassing the unexpected shift. He loved this game ever since moving to New York, at first when he worked at a copy place in Grand Central Station (nearby where he happened to be sliding through at the moment), especially busy streets around there, especially at rush hours and lunch, and further challenged when he carried heavy packages of copies destined for publishing houses, often pocketing the cab money given to him to walk even farther through more busy streets carrying those burdens. And then when he became busboy and then waiter at the restaurant at Max's Kansas City, a punk club with the music upstairs and the restaurant where he worked downstairs, sliding through crowds of kids his age on weekend nights. It felt like a kind of dance, especially at the club, even with his own special tempo. This time though, for the first time ever as far as he could recall, he collided with someone who seemed to appear out of nowhere, his height of six and a half feet always helping his vision and his traversing perhaps missing her much smaller frame, at least a foot shorter, probably closer to a foot and a half, but more it seemed like she stepped into the narrow passage he'd found as if on purpose, finding the perfect moment for collision. But of course that would have been impossible, her knowing when to get in his way, when he'd happen to be sliding through at that very moment, unless fate could be considered purposeful. “Asshole,” the young woman growled from the concrete in which his impact sent her, landing on her ass and a hand that prevented something worse like concussion and scraping it for the trouble. With him stopped standing over her, the crowd flowed around the sudden impediment like cattle somehow avoiding stampeding, though less animal and more human since the flow went both ways. He looked down at a blonde waif, skinny and frail, her t shirt and jeans too big for her and looking well past new, the t shirt white with a band logo he was unfamiliar with showing every stain, and there were many, the jeans showing a small right kneecap where the cloth had frayed. The navy peacoat, too warm for the balmy, almost summerlike weather unusual this early in the year, splayed open. “I'm so sorry,” Joe exclaimed, and when his stretched out hand was avoided by her, he insisted, “Let me help you up.” She finally allowed his large hand to take hold of her small slim one aiding her to standing. “I didn't see you,” he added. “Obviously,” she smirked, adjusting her stuffed and scuffed red backpack on her shoulders. “Hungry?” he asked. “I could eat,” she half smiled. He guided her across the street and to the end of the block where one of the last of the Horn and Hardarts automats existed and put coins into the slots for her tuna sandwich and chips and for his egg salad. He bought her a Coke and he got coffee. She used the toilet there to clean her scrape amongst other things since she took a while, which worried him, thinking she might have run off, but of course she didn't, having food waiting for her. “I'm Joe,” he told her. “Jenny,” she replied before filling her mouth with a bite of sandwich. They said nothing for a while since she devoured her food, obviously needing it. “Anything else?” he asked. “Maybe a pie? The lemon meringue looked tempting.” “Okay if we share?” he asked. “That's fine.” “Uhm, are you going to stay?” He looked at her, saw her eyes pooling and she sniffled. “Please?” Her smile nearly broke his heart when she replied, “Nowhere better to be.” “Good. After we eat, let's get that scrape taken care of.” “Okay.” They stayed, talking over the small empty plate. “Where are you from?” he asked. “The Twin Cities. Minneapolis.” “No shit! Me too!” “No shit!” “No shit. Where?” “Robbinsdale.” “Golden Valley.” “No shit?” “No shit.” The two suburbs were neighbors, Robbinsdale more middle class than Golden Valley, which tended to be more upper middle class, a lot of professionals, doctors, lawyers and professors, his dad being of the latter type. Fate. “You work around here?” she asked, since Joe had dressed up in a jacket and tie, the tie loose around his neck. “I used to,” he told her. “I'm actually applying for jobs presently.” “Presently,” she giggled. “Sorry. I tend to talk like I have a stick up my butt.” “No, it's cute.” “Glad you think so,” he chuckled. “How's the job search going?” she asked. “Not great unfortunately. My uncle's an executive at the William Morris Agency, and I hoped that might help, but I guess he's against nepotism. It's possible I'll get a job in their mail room. I applied at other offices, but I'm making a career change, or hoping to, and have got little experience.” “From what?” she asked. “I used to be a waiter at Max's Kansas City.” “No shit!” “No shit.” “Why not stay there?” “I needed a change,” he murmured, unconsciously stroking his arm. Jenny sensing Joe's discomfort regarding the subject wisely ended that line of inquiry. “What's the William Morris Agency?” she asked instead. “It's one of the largest talent agencies in America,” he told her. “Cool.” “Yeah. It's had its perks. Getting turned on to Bowie early because my uncle wrote the contract that signed him. Meeting cool stars at a party at his house upstate. Going to openings like the movie Hair and Apocalypse Now, the last a brand new print and sitting close.” “Is that cool?” she asked. “Pretty cool,” he chuckled. When they left the automat, he told her, “Let's get you some anti-bacteria for your scrape and Band-Aids. I know a drugstore nearby.” “You don't have anything at home?” she asked, surprising him. “Um…you sure?” “I'm sure,” she smiled, and he could see those pretty blue eyes pool again. “I can get something on the way,” he decided. “Great!” Since the drugstore was close by, he went there anyway, and while getting the first aid stuff, she waited for him near the counter. “Need any of these?” she blushed, pointing to the rack of condoms. His cock stiffened in his pants while he grabbed a sixpack of lubricated Trojans. She stayed his hand and grabbed a twelve pack instead. “Holy shit,” he thought. Both were blushing while he made the purchase. They walked over to Grand Central and took the subway south to Fourteenth Street close to where he lived. They entered a door between a couple non-descript store fronts and climbed the stairs three floors, Joe unlocking a door on the left at the top. Fortunately none of his roommates were around in the shared area, probably sleeping since they tended to keep vampire hours, and Joe guided Jenny down a hallway, taking a sharp right and, pushing aside a beaded curtain, gestured her through. He had by far the largest bedroom in the three bedroom apartment, a couple large windows unfortunately facing the wall of another building. Unfortunate not for the view, but for the easy access from the roof to the room, the probable path taken when someone broke in and stole his record collection and his typewriter not long before. Or they could have just walked in, because he knew the probable culprit, since he'd seen the junkie just off St. Marks selling his records, a regular at Max's. “Sorry for the mess,” he apologized, and Joe was a definite slob. “No problem,” she responded. “Beggars can't be choosers.” “Jenny?” “Mind if I take a shower?” she sniffled. “Not at all. Just a second.” He knelt in front of a small cabinet and grabbed a towel for her. “The red door on the right,” he told her. For some reason they'd painted the bathroom a deep red, including the door, the rest of the apartment with white walls. He cleaned up his place while she showered, neatening the books and papers on the coffee table, the table on which he used to type before losing his typewriter, and tossing clothes into a gunny sack he used to tote down to go to the nearest laundromat a block or so away. She returned carrying her clothes and her bag, wearing the towel with it tucked between her cleavage, more of it than he expected, and when she unceremoniously dropped the towel, she sported perky b cup breasts, all the more substantial looking on her petite frame. She was skinny but fortunately not completely starved, no bones jutting out, her belly youthfully firm with just a hint of convexity, and her full bush, being blonde, seemed less substantial than if it were dark. Her waist curved subtly, neither what some would call child bearing hips, but not boyish either. This was definitely a woman. “Like what you see?” she smiled, turning, and showing him a perfect firm round ass. He also noticed muscled thighs and her arms even had some definition. “Wow,” he said. “You're definitely in shape.” “Dreams of being a prima ballerina,” she sniffled. He sat on the bed and patted his lap. “Come here.” “You have way too many clothes on,” she sniffled and giggled. “Come here, Jenny,” he said more forcefully. She sat on his lap sideways. He reluctantly kept his hands off her. “Tell me,” he said. “You don't want to fuck me?” “Of course I do. Tell me.” She sobbed. Only then did he embrace her across her middle, her face ending up against his chest. He could feel the tears wet his shirt. “Tell me,” he repeated. “I…had to,” she choked out. “Had to?” “Your shirt,” she murmured, pulling her head away. “It's okay,” he insisted, gently pulling her head back. “I auditioned over the years to get into ballet school here, but no takers,” she managed to say. “I wanted to be a ballerina but I guess I'm not good enough.” “Best to know I guess,” Joe tried. “It's not that. Oh, okay that kind of sucked, but mostly I wanted to get away.” “From?” “Everything!” “Including?” “My mother's cruel disappointment. She'd been a ballerina until she had me. My boyfriend turning out to be gay. Another boy practically raping me instead making sure I was ready. My father…” “Did he…?” “No, but he was working up to it. Probably looked at me like I was my mom when I was her age or younger I guess. He'd be affectionate, too affectionate as it turned out. He touched me where he shouldn't, not directly but close, you know. I guess I didn't believe it, but it turned out he was actually being shy, and eventually brought my hand to his crotch which got me off him immediately. The last straw…I woke up with him in my bed. I screamed and punched like in his diaphragm which took his wind. Maybe I should have punched lower, but I wanted to be nowhere near that, and when I raced out the room, my mother plods over and my dad says some bullshit about me seducing him, and since it was all about jealousy, him being more affectionate to me, and disappointment, she fucking believed him. “I'm of course freaking out, everything…and then this…but I managed to take some breaths, calming down, and told my mom if she wanted rid of me I needed money. They only had a couple hundred around but my mom takes me to her bank, gets me another five hundred, drives me to the bus station, buys me a ticket to New York, my demand, with her credit card. She actually offered one to me, but I told her she'd probably close it and have me arrested or something, and the bitch shrugged. And I'm like, ‘You're a fucking cunt.' And she's saying I'm a useless slut.” “Sorry,” Joe apologized. “I'm the sorry one,” Jenny actually chuckled. “But…it doesn't sound like sex…” Jenny shifted around so that she faced him, straddling his lap. “I got hit on by fucking pimps, Joe, as soon as I got off the fucking bus at Penn station. I'm not as naïve as I look.” “But you don't know me.” “Like you're a psycho? You don't seem the type and in a way I don't fucking care. A rapist probably wouldn't have brought me home. The hotel I stayed at this creepy guy kept staring at me in the lobby and ended up following me to my fucking floor, so I like got out quick out of there, practically running. And I didn't even dare shower there since the shower room was fucking shared and fucking groady. I was actually headed to Grand Central when we collided, thinking I'd try taking a train down to twenty-third, staying at the Chelsea or something, just to do something cool while I was here and still alive. So Joe, I guess you're the best choice I've had so far.” She kissed him, pulling off the jacket he still wore and unbuttoning his shirt. He broke the kiss when he tossed aside the tie, then lifted her and set her on her back on the bed. He finished the unbuttoning and tossed aside his shirt. “Nice,” she smiled, stroking his chest. Joe didn't work out, but being young, just twenty-one, and working hard at his job as a waiter, kept him slim and slimly muscled. He kept his pants on when he made love to her lying beside her on his side. Kisses continued for a while, both enjoying it especially when tongues were involved, her breath tasting of toothpaste and his presumably not offensive, while his hand began exploring the rest of her. The hand took the weight of her breasts, teasingly moving on before a direct attack on her small nipples to linger on her taut belly and moving teasing across her pudendum, through her soft patch of blond hair, before feeling the smoothness of her thighs and the firmness of muscles, and then under her, lifting her slightly by her firm ass, followed by sliding along her back, across her shoulder and returning to her breasts, fingers moving in on her nipples, caressing and tugging gently at each one, making her gasp into his mouth. Only then did he end the kiss, bringing his mouth to the exploration, finding thrills for her at her ear and neck before moving to her breasts and nipples. Once each one had been appreciated for a while, the second sending his hand down slowly, eventually fingers discovering the dampness of her labia, rimming the edges, his mouth followed the same trail as his hand, and when it reached where she wanted it, he shifted his body between her widened legs and his tongue lapped across her clit, the first touch of it, and she lifted her middle and moaned. Both fingers and mouth remained there, working her gradually to her first climax via a man, especially intense when he stroked her g spot, his other hand tugging at her nipples, measuring the squeeze and building on it since she seemed to handle ever more pressure there. “Joe,” she murmured once she recovered, and smiled when he got up and got naked for her. “Oh my,” she commented at his length, on the thicker side, and definitely longer than the two she'd seen by at least a couple inches. “I'll be gentle,” he promised, opening a condom and rolling it on and moving between her thighs. He brought her hand to his cock to guide him, and she brought it where she wanted it and he slowly pushed in. “Oh fuck!” she moaned. “Too much?” he asked reluctantly. “Don't you fucking stop!” she declared. He pushed into one of the tightest sheathes he'd ever felt and realized he wouldn't last and told her. “Just fuck me,” she insisted, her legs wrapping his thighs as emphasis. Going slow probably helped delay the inevitable, seeming to open her up with each deeper stroke. In the end, he nudged at her cervix, thankfully with his cock completely inside her. He'd known girls her size, even taller, where he had to be careful about the impact there, usually no more than an inch to spare, but enough to cause pain. Not this time. Touching it made her growl, but in a good way. He decided to exploit that, grinding into her, pubic bone against pubic bone which affected her clit too, and just pulling out a couple inches before thrusting in. She seemed fine with that, even enjoying it, so he kept it up while his hands drew in to work fingers and thumbs on her nipples. She began meeting his thrusts with lifts, and her hands grabbed his ass cheeks, and she began pulling on his flesh there, wanting longer strokes it seemed, but he waited until she grabbed hard, closing on being painful, her nails thankfully short, he'd learn later she tended to nibble on them when nervous, and he'd actually seen a little of that in the automat, and she pressed against him one more time before announcing her climax with, “Oh my fucking God!” rather loudly at a high growl. And when she loosened her grip, only then did he abandon himself to fully fucking her, long, ever faster strokes for only seconds before he pressed deep, pushing against her cervix, and cumming. “Joe,” she murmured, her hands pushing his chest. “Sorry,” he responded, hugging her to him and turning them over. He'd reached the last of his ejaculations, every one intense, and reached down to hold the condom to his penis while shifting her higher with his legs. “Mmm,” she responded when it slid out. She shivered a little too as if feeling a last echo of her orgasm. “It'll be better next time,” he promised. She chuckled weakly. “What?” he asked. She shifted forward. Since both of their bodies had fairly equal proportions of legs to torsos, she had to scoot up a bit, her legs straddling his abdomen, her damp pussy pressing into it, for her to look eye to eye with him. Her hands pressed his shoulders to put her face above his. “That was several magnitudes better than the last and only fuck I've had,” she explained. “I thought it was making love,” he argued. “Don't be pedantic, Joe,” she smirked, surprising him. “Pedantic?” “You know what I mean.” “Of course, but…” “I'm smarter than I look.” “I don't believe in the dumb blonde myth.” “I've met several, and not all blondes.” “School?” “And fellow dancers, although most were dedicated enough to be smart too I suppose. Learning to put the time in to do the best you can both in dancing and studying.” “Makes sense. So school…?” “I would have graduated this spring if I hadn't had to run away.” “GED?” he asked. “Probably. I don't imagine going to school for one quarter. You?” “School?” “Yeah.” “I went to Bard in upstate New York for a couple years, but quit because it was ridiculous having parents spend that much money for me to study to be a poet.” “You're a poet?” “Not much recently. I thought New York would be inspiring, but mostly it's been distracting. I'm also interested in filmmaking, like the experimental kind, so no more lucrative. I still have a Bolex sixteen millimeter camera which fortunately the thieves never found.” “Thieves?” “The problem with living amongst junkies. Let me show you something.” He lifted his left arm and she caressed a line of marks near his inner elbow area. “Are those…?” “Tracks. Only one is fairly fresh. It's why I quit Max's: too much temptation. Living here too, but right now I can't afford to move. A friend of mine OD'd and died, and another almost did and I ended up keeping him alive. It was the last straw, and I realized that'd be me, or it'd just be a spiral of inertia, all about the next fix and nothing else, so I quit. Luckily I wasn't too strung out and basically hung with my folks for a week when my dad had his sabbatical in DC this past winter. I drank a bit there, but my parents seemed none the wiser. Anyway, when I came back to work planning to keep my tips instead of spending them all, I did okay until I didn't one day, succumbing to temptation, and quit after that.” “When was that?” “A week ago. I've been job hunting ever since.” “Lucky for me,” she grinned and shifted around, pulling off the used condom and handing it to him carefully and he managed to toss it atop his underpants while she enveloped his penis in her mouth. He worried about her lack of experience, mostly worried about her teeth, but she proved quite capable. He nudged her to straddle his face and had to bend his back a little, supported by his arms so fingers weren't available, and mostly kept her pleasure at a quiet purr, not distracting her from her surprisingly effective endeavors. Once she'd got him hard, she bounced off the bed, found a condom and rolled it on with some study and climbed on and guided him back inside her, carefully, stroke by stroke, sending him deep. Once there, she began her ride, this time having the full effect of his entire cock, to the point she needed to bring it back to her slit when it slipped out a couple times, but seemed to get the length of him soon enough and began riding him at a medium fast clip. He watched the roll and bounce of her perky tits before stilling them with his hands, one letting go to guide her hand to her clit. From that she worked herself into a frenzy, finally shifting down and rolling atop him to achieve her orgasm. Fortunately it always took longer for Joe to cum when a woman took the cowgirl position. After, she somehow turned around while he remained inside and moved her body down, and he realized what she wanted, moving from beneath her, clutching her hips, and pulling her into him in a doggy style position. He shifted, letting go of the hips and bringing one hand to her hanging tits and the other to her clit, practically holding her up with the latter hand, and like he had before, let himself go fucking her hard and fast until he came, happily not long after she did. “Fuck Joe,” she commented softly after. “Yeah,” Joe agreed. She did the securing of the condom to his penis and they soon took the same position as they had before, her head resting on his chest. “Can I stay?” she asked quietly and shyly. “As long as you want.” “Thanks.” by maxicue for Literotica. This is the first chapter of a novel. The rest of the published chapters are found at the maxicue library of Literotica. Fate's Embrace: 6 Part Series
Two pedestrians collide fatefully. by maxicue. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Joe slid through the crowd on the street, not in a hurry, just enjoying it, like it was some kind of game, call it Body Avoidance, a challenge of finding the gaps just large enough to pass through untouched while the bodies continued moving in somewhat predictable ways, though the unpredictable could always happen, adding to the challenge and the fun, that quick burst bypassing the unexpected shift. He loved this game ever since moving to New York, at first when he worked at a copy place in Grand Central Station (nearby where he happened to be sliding through at the moment), especially busy streets around there, especially at rush hours and lunch, and further challenged when he carried heavy packages of copies destined for publishing houses, often pocketing the cab money given to him to walk even farther through more busy streets carrying those burdens. And then when he became busboy and then waiter at the restaurant at Max's Kansas City, a punk club with the music upstairs and the restaurant where he worked downstairs, sliding through crowds of kids his age on weekend nights. It felt like a kind of dance, especially at the club, even with his own special tempo. This time though, for the first time ever as far as he could recall, he collided with someone who seemed to appear out of nowhere, his height of six and a half feet always helping his vision and his traversing perhaps missing her much smaller frame, at least a foot shorter, probably closer to a foot and a half, but more it seemed like she stepped into the narrow passage he'd found as if on purpose, finding the perfect moment for collision. But of course that would have been impossible, her knowing when to get in his way, when he'd happen to be sliding through at that very moment, unless fate could be considered purposeful. “Asshole,” the young woman growled from the concrete in which his impact sent her, landing on her ass and a hand that prevented something worse like concussion and scraping it for the trouble. With him stopped standing over her, the crowd flowed around the sudden impediment like cattle somehow avoiding stampeding, though less animal and more human since the flow went both ways. He looked down at a blonde waif, skinny and frail, her t shirt and jeans too big for her and looking well past new, the t shirt white with a band logo he was unfamiliar with showing every stain, and there were many, the jeans showing a small right kneecap where the cloth had frayed. The navy peacoat, too warm for the balmy, almost summerlike weather unusual this early in the year, splayed open. “I'm so sorry,” Joe exclaimed, and when his stretched out hand was avoided by her, he insisted, “Let me help you up.” She finally allowed his large hand to take hold of her small slim one aiding her to standing. “I didn't see you,” he added. “Obviously,” she smirked, adjusting her stuffed and scuffed red backpack on her shoulders. “Hungry?” he asked. “I could eat,” she half smiled. He guided her across the street and to the end of the block where one of the last of the Horn and Hardarts automats existed and put coins into the slots for her tuna sandwich and chips and for his egg salad. He bought her a Coke and he got coffee. She used the toilet there to clean her scrape amongst other things since she took a while, which worried him, thinking she might have run off, but of course she didn't, having food waiting for her. “I'm Joe,” he told her. “Jenny,” she replied before filling her mouth with a bite of sandwich. They said nothing for a while since she devoured her food, obviously needing it. “Anything else?” he asked. “Maybe a pie? The lemon meringue looked tempting.” “Okay if we share?” he asked. “That's fine.” “Uhm, are you going to stay?” He looked at her, saw her eyes pooling and she sniffled. “Please?” Her smile nearly broke his heart when she replied, “Nowhere better to be.” “Good. After we eat, let's get that scrape taken care of.” “Okay.” They stayed, talking over the small empty plate. “Where are you from?” he asked. “The Twin Cities. Minneapolis.” “No shit! Me too!” “No shit!” “No shit. Where?” “Robbinsdale.” “Golden Valley.” “No shit?” “No shit.” The two suburbs were neighbors, Robbinsdale more middle class than Golden Valley, which tended to be more upper middle class, a lot of professionals, doctors, lawyers and professors, his dad being of the latter type. Fate. “You work around here?” she asked, since Joe had dressed up in a jacket and tie, the tie loose around his neck. “I used to,” he told her. “I'm actually applying for jobs presently.” “Presently,” she giggled. “Sorry. I tend to talk like I have a stick up my butt.” “No, it's cute.” “Glad you think so,” he chuckled. “How's the job search going?” she asked. “Not great unfortunately. My uncle's an executive at the William Morris Agency, and I hoped that might help, but I guess he's against nepotism. It's possible I'll get a job in their mail room. I applied at other offices, but I'm making a career change, or hoping to, and have got little experience.” “From what?” she asked. “I used to be a waiter at Max's Kansas City.” “No shit!” “No shit.” “Why not stay there?” “I needed a change,” he murmured, unconsciously stroking his arm. Jenny sensing Joe's discomfort regarding the subject wisely ended that line of inquiry. “What's the William Morris Agency?” she asked instead. “It's one of the largest talent agencies in America,” he told her. “Cool.” “Yeah. It's had its perks. Getting turned on to Bowie early because my uncle wrote the contract that signed him. Meeting cool stars at a party at his house upstate. Going to openings like the movie Hair and Apocalypse Now, the last a brand new print and sitting close.” “Is that cool?” she asked. “Pretty cool,” he chuckled. When they left the automat, he told her, “Let's get you some anti-bacteria for your scrape and Band-Aids. I know a drugstore nearby.” “You don't have anything at home?” she asked, surprising him. “Um…you sure?” “I'm sure,” she smiled, and he could see those pretty blue eyes pool again. “I can get something on the way,” he decided. “Great!” Since the drugstore was close by, he went there anyway, and while getting the first aid stuff, she waited for him near the counter. “Need any of these?” she blushed, pointing to the rack of condoms. His cock stiffened in his pants while he grabbed a sixpack of lubricated Trojans. She stayed his hand and grabbed a twelve pack instead. “Holy shit,” he thought. Both were blushing while he made the purchase. They walked over to Grand Central and took the subway south to Fourteenth Street close to where he lived. They entered a door between a couple non-descript store fronts and climbed the stairs three floors, Joe unlocking a door on the left at the top. Fortunately none of his roommates were around in the shared area, probably sleeping since they tended to keep vampire hours, and Joe guided Jenny down a hallway, taking a sharp right and, pushing aside a beaded curtain, gestured her through. He had by far the largest bedroom in the three bedroom apartment, a couple large windows unfortunately facing the wall of another building. Unfortunate not for the view, but for the easy access from the roof to the room, the probable path taken when someone broke in and stole his record collection and his typewriter not long before. Or they could have just walked in, because he knew the probable culprit, since he'd seen the junkie just off St. Marks selling his records, a regular at Max's. “Sorry for the mess,” he apologized, and Joe was a definite slob. “No problem,” she responded. “Beggars can't be choosers.” “Jenny?” “Mind if I take a shower?” she sniffled. “Not at all. Just a second.” He knelt in front of a small cabinet and grabbed a towel for her. “The red door on the right,” he told her. For some reason they'd painted the bathroom a deep red, including the door, the rest of the apartment with white walls. He cleaned up his place while she showered, neatening the books and papers on the coffee table, the table on which he used to type before losing his typewriter, and tossing clothes into a gunny sack he used to tote down to go to the nearest laundromat a block or so away. She returned carrying her clothes and her bag, wearing the towel with it tucked between her cleavage, more of it than he expected, and when she unceremoniously dropped the towel, she sported perky b cup breasts, all the more substantial looking on her petite frame. She was skinny but fortunately not completely starved, no bones jutting out, her belly youthfully firm with just a hint of convexity, and her full bush, being blonde, seemed less substantial than if it were dark. Her waist curved subtly, neither what some would call child bearing hips, but not boyish either. This was definitely a woman. “Like what you see?” she smiled, turning, and showing him a perfect firm round ass. He also noticed muscled thighs and her arms even had some definition. “Wow,” he said. “You're definitely in shape.” “Dreams of being a prima ballerina,” she sniffled. He sat on the bed and patted his lap. “Come here.” “You have way too many clothes on,” she sniffled and giggled. “Come here, Jenny,” he said more forcefully. She sat on his lap sideways. He reluctantly kept his hands off her. “Tell me,” he said. “You don't want to fuck me?” “Of course I do. Tell me.” She sobbed. Only then did he embrace her across her middle, her face ending up against his chest. He could feel the tears wet his shirt. “Tell me,” he repeated. “I…had to,” she choked out. “Had to?” “Your shirt,” she murmured, pulling her head away. “It's okay,” he insisted, gently pulling her head back. “I auditioned over the years to get into ballet school here, but no takers,” she managed to say. “I wanted to be a ballerina but I guess I'm not good enough.” “Best to know I guess,” Joe tried. “It's not that. Oh, okay that kind of sucked, but mostly I wanted to get away.” “From?” “Everything!” “Including?” “My mother's cruel disappointment. She'd been a ballerina until she had me. My boyfriend turning out to be gay. Another boy practically raping me instead making sure I was ready. My father…” “Did he…?” “No, but he was working up to it. Probably looked at me like I was my mom when I was her age or younger I guess. He'd be affectionate, too affectionate as it turned out. He touched me where he shouldn't, not directly but close, you know. I guess I didn't believe it, but it turned out he was actually being shy, and eventually brought my hand to his crotch which got me off him immediately. The last straw…I woke up with him in my bed. I screamed and punched like in his diaphragm which took his wind. Maybe I should have punched lower, but I wanted to be nowhere near that, and when I raced out the room, my mother plods over and my dad says some bullshit about me seducing him, and since it was all about jealousy, him being more affectionate to me, and disappointment, she fucking believed him. “I'm of course freaking out, everything…and then this…but I managed to take some breaths, calming down, and told my mom if she wanted rid of me I needed money. They only had a couple hundred around but my mom takes me to her bank, gets me another five hundred, drives me to the bus station, buys me a ticket to New York, my demand, with her credit card. She actually offered one to me, but I told her she'd probably close it and have me arrested or something, and the bitch shrugged. And I'm like, ‘You're a fucking cunt.' And she's saying I'm a useless slut.” “Sorry,” Joe apologized. “I'm the sorry one,” Jenny actually chuckled. “But…it doesn't sound like sex…” Jenny shifted around so that she faced him, straddling his lap. “I got hit on by fucking pimps, Joe, as soon as I got off the fucking bus at Penn station. I'm not as naïve as I look.” “But you don't know me.” “Like you're a psycho? You don't seem the type and in a way I don't fucking care. A rapist probably wouldn't have brought me home. The hotel I stayed at this creepy guy kept staring at me in the lobby and ended up following me to my fucking floor, so I like got out quick out of there, practically running. And I didn't even dare shower there since the shower room was fucking shared and fucking groady. I was actually headed to Grand Central when we collided, thinking I'd try taking a train down to twenty-third, staying at the Chelsea or something, just to do something cool while I was here and still alive. So Joe, I guess you're the best choice I've had so far.” She kissed him, pulling off the jacket he still wore and unbuttoning his shirt. He broke the kiss when he tossed aside the tie, then lifted her and set her on her back on the bed. He finished the unbuttoning and tossed aside his shirt. “Nice,” she smiled, stroking his chest. Joe didn't work out, but being young, just twenty-one, and working hard at his job as a waiter, kept him slim and slimly muscled. He kept his pants on when he made love to her lying beside her on his side. Kisses continued for a while, both enjoying it especially when tongues were involved, her breath tasting of toothpaste and his presumably not offensive, while his hand began exploring the rest of her. The hand took the weight of her breasts, teasingly moving on before a direct attack on her small nipples to linger on her taut belly and moving teasing across her pudendum, through her soft patch of blond hair, before feeling the smoothness of her thighs and the firmness of muscles, and then under her, lifting her slightly by her firm ass, followed by sliding along her back, across her shoulder and returning to her breasts, fingers moving in on her nipples, caressing and tugging gently at each one, making her gasp into his mouth. Only then did he end the kiss, bringing his mouth to the exploration, finding thrills for her at her ear and neck before moving to her breasts and nipples. Once each one had been appreciated for a while, the second sending his hand down slowly, eventually fingers discovering the dampness of her labia, rimming the edges, his mouth followed the same trail as his hand, and when it reached where she wanted it, he shifted his body between her widened legs and his tongue lapped across her clit, the first touch of it, and she lifted her middle and moaned. Both fingers and mouth remained there, working her gradually to her first climax via a man, especially intense when he stroked her g spot, his other hand tugging at her nipples, measuring the squeeze and building on it since she seemed to handle ever more pressure there. “Joe,” she murmured once she recovered, and smiled when he got up and got naked for her. “Oh my,” she commented at his length, on the thicker side, and definitely longer than the two she'd seen by at least a couple inches. “I'll be gentle,” he promised, opening a condom and rolling it on and moving between her thighs. He brought her hand to his cock to guide him, and she brought it where she wanted it and he slowly pushed in. “Oh fuck!” she moaned. “Too much?” he asked reluctantly. “Don't you fucking stop!” she declared. He pushed into one of the tightest sheathes he'd ever felt and realized he wouldn't last and told her. “Just fuck me,” she insisted, her legs wrapping his thighs as emphasis. Going slow probably helped delay the inevitable, seeming to open her up with each deeper stroke. In the end, he nudged at her cervix, thankfully with his cock completely inside her. He'd known girls her size, even taller, where he had to be careful about the impact there, usually no more than an inch to spare, but enough to cause pain. Not this time. Touching it made her growl, but in a good way. He decided to exploit that, grinding into her, pubic bone against pubic bone which affected her clit too, and just pulling out a couple inches before thrusting in. She seemed fine with that, even enjoying it, so he kept it up while his hands drew in to work fingers and thumbs on her nipples. She began meeting his thrusts with lifts, and her hands grabbed his ass cheeks, and she began pulling on his flesh there, wanting longer strokes it seemed, but he waited until she grabbed hard, closing on being painful, her nails thankfully short, he'd learn later she tended to nibble on them when nervous, and he'd actually seen a little of that in the automat, and she pressed against him one more time before announcing her climax with, “Oh my fucking God!” rather loudly at a high growl. And when she loosened her grip, only then did he abandon himself to fully fucking her, long, ever faster strokes for only seconds before he pressed deep, pushing against her cervix, and cumming. “Joe,” she murmured, her hands pushing his chest. “Sorry,” he responded, hugging her to him and turning them over. He'd reached the last of his ejaculations, every one intense, and reached down to hold the condom to his penis while shifting her higher with his legs. “Mmm,” she responded when it slid out. She shivered a little too as if feeling a last echo of her orgasm. “It'll be better next time,” he promised. She chuckled weakly. “What?” he asked. She shifted forward. Since both of their bodies had fairly equal proportions of legs to torsos, she had to scoot up a bit, her legs straddling his abdomen, her damp pussy pressing into it, for her to look eye to eye with him. Her hands pressed his shoulders to put her face above his. “That was several magnitudes better than the last and only fuck I've had,” she explained. “I thought it was making love,” he argued. “Don't be pedantic, Joe,” she smirked, surprising him. “Pedantic?” “You know what I mean.” “Of course, but…” “I'm smarter than I look.” “I don't believe in the dumb blonde myth.” “I've met several, and not all blondes.” “School?” “And fellow dancers, although most were dedicated enough to be smart too I suppose. Learning to put the time in to do the best you can both in dancing and studying.” “Makes sense. So school…?” “I would have graduated this spring if I hadn't had to run away.” “GED?” he asked. “Probably. I don't imagine going to school for one quarter. You?” “School?” “Yeah.” “I went to Bard in upstate New York for a couple years, but quit because it was ridiculous having parents spend that much money for me to study to be a poet.” “You're a poet?” “Not much recently. I thought New York would be inspiring, but mostly it's been distracting. I'm also interested in filmmaking, like the experimental kind, so no more lucrative. I still have a Bolex sixteen millimeter camera which fortunately the thieves never found.” “Thieves?” “The problem with living amongst junkies. Let me show you something.” He lifted his left arm and she caressed a line of marks near his inner elbow area. “Are those…?” “Tracks. Only one is fairly fresh. It's why I quit Max's: too much temptation. Living here too, but right now I can't afford to move. A friend of mine OD'd and died, and another almost did and I ended up keeping him alive. It was the last straw, and I realized that'd be me, or it'd just be a spiral of inertia, all about the next fix and nothing else, so I quit. Luckily I wasn't too strung out and basically hung with my folks for a week when my dad had his sabbatical in DC this past winter. I drank a bit there, but my parents seemed none the wiser. Anyway, when I came back to work planning to keep my tips instead of spending them all, I did okay until I didn't one day, succumbing to temptation, and quit after that.” “When was that?” “A week ago. I've been job hunting ever since.” “Lucky for me,” she grinned and shifted around, pulling off the used condom and handing it to him carefully and he managed to toss it atop his underpants while she enveloped his penis in her mouth. He worried about her lack of experience, mostly worried about her teeth, but she proved quite capable. He nudged her to straddle his face and had to bend his back a little, supported by his arms so fingers weren't available, and mostly kept her pleasure at a quiet purr, not distracting her from her surprisingly effective endeavors. Once she'd got him hard, she bounced off the bed, found a condom and rolled it on with some study and climbed on and guided him back inside her, carefully, stroke by stroke, sending him deep. Once there, she began her ride, this time having the full effect of his entire cock, to the point she needed to bring it back to her slit when it slipped out a couple times, but seemed to get the length of him soon enough and began riding him at a medium fast clip. He watched the roll and bounce of her perky tits before stilling them with his hands, one letting go to guide her hand to her clit. From that she worked herself into a frenzy, finally shifting down and rolling atop him to achieve her orgasm. Fortunately it always took longer for Joe to cum when a woman took the cowgirl position. After, she somehow turned around while he remained inside and moved her body down, and he realized what she wanted, moving from beneath her, clutching her hips, and pulling her into him in a doggy style position. He shifted, letting go of the hips and bringing one hand to her hanging tits and the other to her clit, practically holding her up with the latter hand, and like he had before, let himself go fucking her hard and fast until he came, happily not long after she did. “Fuck Joe,” she commented softly after. “Yeah,” Joe agreed. She did the securing of the condom to his penis and they soon took the same position as they had before, her head resting on his chest. “Can I stay?” she asked quietly and shyly. “As long as you want.” “Thanks.” by maxicue for Literotica. This is the first chapter of a novel. The rest of the published chapters are found at the maxicue library of Literotica. Fate's Embrace: 6 Part Series
Two pedestrians collide fatefully. by maxicue. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Joe slid through the crowd on the street, not in a hurry, just enjoying it, like it was some kind of game, call it Body Avoidance, a challenge of finding the gaps just large enough to pass through untouched while the bodies continued moving in somewhat predictable ways, though the unpredictable could always happen, adding to the challenge and the fun, that quick burst bypassing the unexpected shift. He loved this game ever since moving to New York, at first when he worked at a copy place in Grand Central Station (nearby where he happened to be sliding through at the moment), especially busy streets around there, especially at rush hours and lunch, and further challenged when he carried heavy packages of copies destined for publishing houses, often pocketing the cab money given to him to walk even farther through more busy streets carrying those burdens. And then when he became busboy and then waiter at the restaurant at Max's Kansas City, a punk club with the music upstairs and the restaurant where he worked downstairs, sliding through crowds of kids his age on weekend nights. It felt like a kind of dance, especially at the club, even with his own special tempo. This time though, for the first time ever as far as he could recall, he collided with someone who seemed to appear out of nowhere, his height of six and a half feet always helping his vision and his traversing perhaps missing her much smaller frame, at least a foot shorter, probably closer to a foot and a half, but more it seemed like she stepped into the narrow passage he'd found as if on purpose, finding the perfect moment for collision. But of course that would have been impossible, her knowing when to get in his way, when he'd happen to be sliding through at that very moment, unless fate could be considered purposeful. “Asshole,” the young woman growled from the concrete in which his impact sent her, landing on her ass and a hand that prevented something worse like concussion and scraping it for the trouble. With him stopped standing over her, the crowd flowed around the sudden impediment like cattle somehow avoiding stampeding, though less animal and more human since the flow went both ways. He looked down at a blonde waif, skinny and frail, her t shirt and jeans too big for her and looking well past new, the t shirt white with a band logo he was unfamiliar with showing every stain, and there were many, the jeans showing a small right kneecap where the cloth had frayed. The navy peacoat, too warm for the balmy, almost summerlike weather unusual this early in the year, splayed open. “I'm so sorry,” Joe exclaimed, and when his stretched out hand was avoided by her, he insisted, “Let me help you up.” She finally allowed his large hand to take hold of her small slim one aiding her to standing. “I didn't see you,” he added. “Obviously,” she smirked, adjusting her stuffed and scuffed red backpack on her shoulders. “Hungry?” he asked. “I could eat,” she half smiled. He guided her across the street and to the end of the block where one of the last of the Horn and Hardarts automats existed and put coins into the slots for her tuna sandwich and chips and for his egg salad. He bought her a Coke and he got coffee. She used the toilet there to clean her scrape amongst other things since she took a while, which worried him, thinking she might have run off, but of course she didn't, having food waiting for her. “I'm Joe,” he told her. “Jenny,” she replied before filling her mouth with a bite of sandwich. They said nothing for a while since she devoured her food, obviously needing it. “Anything else?” he asked. “Maybe a pie? The lemon meringue looked tempting.” “Okay if we share?” he asked. “That's fine.” “Uhm, are you going to stay?” He looked at her, saw her eyes pooling and she sniffled. “Please?” Her smile nearly broke his heart when she replied, “Nowhere better to be.” “Good. After we eat, let's get that scrape taken care of.” “Okay.” They stayed, talking over the small empty plate. “Where are you from?” he asked. “The Twin Cities. Minneapolis.” “No shit! Me too!” “No shit!” “No shit. Where?” “Robbinsdale.” “Golden Valley.” “No shit?” “No shit.” The two suburbs were neighbors, Robbinsdale more middle class than Golden Valley, which tended to be more upper middle class, a lot of professionals, doctors, lawyers and professors, his dad being of the latter type. Fate. “You work around here?” she asked, since Joe had dressed up in a jacket and tie, the tie loose around his neck. “I used to,” he told her. “I'm actually applying for jobs presently.” “Presently,” she giggled. “Sorry. I tend to talk like I have a stick up my butt.” “No, it's cute.” “Glad you think so,” he chuckled. “How's the job search going?” she asked. “Not great unfortunately. My uncle's an executive at the William Morris Agency, and I hoped that might help, but I guess he's against nepotism. It's possible I'll get a job in their mail room. I applied at other offices, but I'm making a career change, or hoping to, and have got little experience.” “From what?” she asked. “I used to be a waiter at Max's Kansas City.” “No shit!” “No shit.” “Why not stay there?” “I needed a change,” he murmured, unconsciously stroking his arm. Jenny sensing Joe's discomfort regarding the subject wisely ended that line of inquiry. “What's the William Morris Agency?” she asked instead. “It's one of the largest talent agencies in America,” he told her. “Cool.” “Yeah. It's had its perks. Getting turned on to Bowie early because my uncle wrote the contract that signed him. Meeting cool stars at a party at his house upstate. Going to openings like the movie Hair and Apocalypse Now, the last a brand new print and sitting close.” “Is that cool?” she asked. “Pretty cool,” he chuckled. When they left the automat, he told her, “Let's get you some anti-bacteria for your scrape and Band-Aids. I know a drugstore nearby.” “You don't have anything at home?” she asked, surprising him. “Um…you sure?” “I'm sure,” she smiled, and he could see those pretty blue eyes pool again. “I can get something on the way,” he decided. “Great!” Since the drugstore was close by, he went there anyway, and while getting the first aid stuff, she waited for him near the counter. “Need any of these?” she blushed, pointing to the rack of condoms. His cock stiffened in his pants while he grabbed a sixpack of lubricated Trojans. She stayed his hand and grabbed a twelve pack instead. “Holy shit,” he thought. Both were blushing while he made the purchase. They walked over to Grand Central and took the subway south to Fourteenth Street close to where he lived. They entered a door between a couple non-descript store fronts and climbed the stairs three floors, Joe unlocking a door on the left at the top. Fortunately none of his roommates were around in the shared area, probably sleeping since they tended to keep vampire hours, and Joe guided Jenny down a hallway, taking a sharp right and, pushing aside a beaded curtain, gestured her through. He had by far the largest bedroom in the three bedroom apartment, a couple large windows unfortunately facing the wall of another building. Unfortunate not for the view, but for the easy access from the roof to the room, the probable path taken when someone broke in and stole his record collection and his typewriter not long before. Or they could have just walked in, because he knew the probable culprit, since he'd seen the junkie just off St. Marks selling his records, a regular at Max's. “Sorry for the mess,” he apologized, and Joe was a definite slob. “No problem,” she responded. “Beggars can't be choosers.” “Jenny?” “Mind if I take a shower?” she sniffled. “Not at all. Just a second.” He knelt in front of a small cabinet and grabbed a towel for her. “The red door on the right,” he told her. For some reason they'd painted the bathroom a deep red, including the door, the rest of the apartment with white walls. He cleaned up his place while she showered, neatening the books and papers on the coffee table, the table on which he used to type before losing his typewriter, and tossing clothes into a gunny sack he used to tote down to go to the nearest laundromat a block or so away. She returned carrying her clothes and her bag, wearing the towel with it tucked between her cleavage, more of it than he expected, and when she unceremoniously dropped the towel, she sported perky b cup breasts, all the more substantial looking on her petite frame. She was skinny but fortunately not completely starved, no bones jutting out, her belly youthfully firm with just a hint of convexity, and her full bush, being blonde, seemed less substantial than if it were dark. Her waist curved subtly, neither what some would call child bearing hips, but not boyish either. This was definitely a woman. “Like what you see?” she smiled, turning, and showing him a perfect firm round ass. He also noticed muscled thighs and her arms even had some definition. “Wow,” he said. “You're definitely in shape.” “Dreams of being a prima ballerina,” she sniffled. He sat on the bed and patted his lap. “Come here.” “You have way too many clothes on,” she sniffled and giggled. “Come here, Jenny,” he said more forcefully. She sat on his lap sideways. He reluctantly kept his hands off her. “Tell me,” he said. “You don't want to fuck me?” “Of course I do. Tell me.” She sobbed. Only then did he embrace her across her middle, her face ending up against his chest. He could feel the tears wet his shirt. “Tell me,” he repeated. “I…had to,” she choked out. “Had to?” “Your shirt,” she murmured, pulling her head away. “It's okay,” he insisted, gently pulling her head back. “I auditioned over the years to get into ballet school here, but no takers,” she managed to say. “I wanted to be a ballerina but I guess I'm not good enough.” “Best to know I guess,” Joe tried. “It's not that. Oh, okay that kind of sucked, but mostly I wanted to get away.” “From?” “Everything!” “Including?” “My mother's cruel disappointment. She'd been a ballerina until she had me. My boyfriend turning out to be gay. Another boy practically raping me instead making sure I was ready. My father…” “Did he…?” “No, but he was working up to it. Probably looked at me like I was my mom when I was her age or younger I guess. He'd be affectionate, too affectionate as it turned out. He touched me where he shouldn't, not directly but close, you know. I guess I didn't believe it, but it turned out he was actually being shy, and eventually brought my hand to his crotch which got me off him immediately. The last straw…I woke up with him in my bed. I screamed and punched like in his diaphragm which took his wind. Maybe I should have punched lower, but I wanted to be nowhere near that, and when I raced out the room, my mother plods over and my dad says some bullshit about me seducing him, and since it was all about jealousy, him being more affectionate to me, and disappointment, she fucking believed him. “I'm of course freaking out, everything…and then this…but I managed to take some breaths, calming down, and told my mom if she wanted rid of me I needed money. They only had a couple hundred around but my mom takes me to her bank, gets me another five hundred, drives me to the bus station, buys me a ticket to New York, my demand, with her credit card. She actually offered one to me, but I told her she'd probably close it and have me arrested or something, and the bitch shrugged. And I'm like, ‘You're a fucking cunt.' And she's saying I'm a useless slut.” “Sorry,” Joe apologized. “I'm the sorry one,” Jenny actually chuckled. “But…it doesn't sound like sex…” Jenny shifted around so that she faced him, straddling his lap. “I got hit on by fucking pimps, Joe, as soon as I got off the fucking bus at Penn station. I'm not as naïve as I look.” “But you don't know me.” “Like you're a psycho? You don't seem the type and in a way I don't fucking care. A rapist probably wouldn't have brought me home. The hotel I stayed at this creepy guy kept staring at me in the lobby and ended up following me to my fucking floor, so I like got out quick out of there, practically running. And I didn't even dare shower there since the shower room was fucking shared and fucking groady. I was actually headed to Grand Central when we collided, thinking I'd try taking a train down to twenty-third, staying at the Chelsea or something, just to do something cool while I was here and still alive. So Joe, I guess you're the best choice I've had so far.” She kissed him, pulling off the jacket he still wore and unbuttoning his shirt. He broke the kiss when he tossed aside the tie, then lifted her and set her on her back on the bed. He finished the unbuttoning and tossed aside his shirt. “Nice,” she smiled, stroking his chest. Joe didn't work out, but being young, just twenty-one, and working hard at his job as a waiter, kept him slim and slimly muscled. He kept his pants on when he made love to her lying beside her on his side. Kisses continued for a while, both enjoying it especially when tongues were involved, her breath tasting of toothpaste and his presumably not offensive, while his hand began exploring the rest of her. The hand took the weight of her breasts, teasingly moving on before a direct attack on her small nipples to linger on her taut belly and moving teasing across her pudendum, through her soft patch of blond hair, before feeling the smoothness of her thighs and the firmness of muscles, and then under her, lifting her slightly by her firm ass, followed by sliding along her back, across her shoulder and returning to her breasts, fingers moving in on her nipples, caressing and tugging gently at each one, making her gasp into his mouth. Only then did he end the kiss, bringing his mouth to the exploration, finding thrills for her at her ear and neck before moving to her breasts and nipples. Once each one had been appreciated for a while, the second sending his hand down slowly, eventually fingers discovering the dampness of her labia, rimming the edges, his mouth followed the same trail as his hand, and when it reached where she wanted it, he shifted his body between her widened legs and his tongue lapped across her clit, the first touch of it, and she lifted her middle and moaned. Both fingers and mouth remained there, working her gradually to her first climax via a man, especially intense when he stroked her g spot, his other hand tugging at her nipples, measuring the squeeze and building on it since she seemed to handle ever more pressure there. “Joe,” she murmured once she recovered, and smiled when he got up and got naked for her. “Oh my,” she commented at his length, on the thicker side, and definitely longer than the two she'd seen by at least a couple inches. “I'll be gentle,” he promised, opening a condom and rolling it on and moving between her thighs. He brought her hand to his cock to guide him, and she brought it where she wanted it and he slowly pushed in. “Oh fuck!” she moaned. “Too much?” he asked reluctantly. “Don't you fucking stop!” she declared. He pushed into one of the tightest sheathes he'd ever felt and realized he wouldn't last and told her. “Just fuck me,” she insisted, her legs wrapping his thighs as emphasis. Going slow probably helped delay the inevitable, seeming to open her up with each deeper stroke. In the end, he nudged at her cervix, thankfully with his cock completely inside her. He'd known girls her size, even taller, where he had to be careful about the impact there, usually no more than an inch to spare, but enough to cause pain. Not this time. Touching it made her growl, but in a good way. He decided to exploit that, grinding into her, pubic bone against pubic bone which affected her clit too, and just pulling out a couple inches before thrusting in. She seemed fine with that, even enjoying it, so he kept it up while his hands drew in to work fingers and thumbs on her nipples. She began meeting his thrusts with lifts, and her hands grabbed his ass cheeks, and she began pulling on his flesh there, wanting longer strokes it seemed, but he waited until she grabbed hard, closing on being painful, her nails thankfully short, he'd learn later she tended to nibble on them when nervous, and he'd actually seen a little of that in the automat, and she pressed against him one more time before announcing her climax with, “Oh my fucking God!” rather loudly at a high growl. And when she loosened her grip, only then did he abandon himself to fully fucking her, long, ever faster strokes for only seconds before he pressed deep, pushing against her cervix, and cumming. “Joe,” she murmured, her hands pushing his chest. “Sorry,” he responded, hugging her to him and turning them over. He'd reached the last of his ejaculations, every one intense, and reached down to hold the condom to his penis while shifting her higher with his legs. “Mmm,” she responded when it slid out. She shivered a little too as if feeling a last echo of her orgasm. “It'll be better next time,” he promised. She chuckled weakly. “What?” he asked. She shifted forward. Since both of their bodies had fairly equal proportions of legs to torsos, she had to scoot up a bit, her legs straddling his abdomen, her damp pussy pressing into it, for her to look eye to eye with him. Her hands pressed his shoulders to put her face above his. “That was several magnitudes better than the last and only fuck I've had,” she explained. “I thought it was making love,” he argued. “Don't be pedantic, Joe,” she smirked, surprising him. “Pedantic?” “You know what I mean.” “Of course, but…” “I'm smarter than I look.” “I don't believe in the dumb blonde myth.” “I've met several, and not all blondes.” “School?” “And fellow dancers, although most were dedicated enough to be smart too I suppose. Learning to put the time in to do the best you can both in dancing and studying.” “Makes sense. So school…?” “I would have graduated this spring if I hadn't had to run away.” “GED?” he asked. “Probably. I don't imagine going to school for one quarter. You?” “School?” “Yeah.” “I went to Bard in upstate New York for a couple years, but quit because it was ridiculous having parents spend that much money for me to study to be a poet.” “You're a poet?” “Not much recently. I thought New York would be inspiring, but mostly it's been distracting. I'm also interested in filmmaking, like the experimental kind, so no more lucrative. I still have a Bolex sixteen millimeter camera which fortunately the thieves never found.” “Thieves?” “The problem with living amongst junkies. Let me show you something.” He lifted his left arm and she caressed a line of marks near his inner elbow area. “Are those…?” “Tracks. Only one is fairly fresh. It's why I quit Max's: too much temptation. Living here too, but right now I can't afford to move. A friend of mine OD'd and died, and another almost did and I ended up keeping him alive. It was the last straw, and I realized that'd be me, or it'd just be a spiral of inertia, all about the next fix and nothing else, so I quit. Luckily I wasn't too strung out and basically hung with my folks for a week when my dad had his sabbatical in DC this past winter. I drank a bit there, but my parents seemed none the wiser. Anyway, when I came back to work planning to keep my tips instead of spending them all, I did okay until I didn't one day, succumbing to temptation, and quit after that.” “When was that?” “A week ago. I've been job hunting ever since.” “Lucky for me,” she grinned and shifted around, pulling off the used condom and handing it to him carefully and he managed to toss it atop his underpants while she enveloped his penis in her mouth. He worried about her lack of experience, mostly worried about her teeth, but she proved quite capable. He nudged her to straddle his face and had to bend his back a little, supported by his arms so fingers weren't available, and mostly kept her pleasure at a quiet purr, not distracting her from her surprisingly effective endeavors. Once she'd got him hard, she bounced off the bed, found a condom and rolled it on with some study and climbed on and guided him back inside her, carefully, stroke by stroke, sending him deep. Once there, she began her ride, this time having the full effect of his entire cock, to the point she needed to bring it back to her slit when it slipped out a couple times, but seemed to get the length of him soon enough and began riding him at a medium fast clip. He watched the roll and bounce of her perky tits before stilling them with his hands, one letting go to guide her hand to her clit. From that she worked herself into a frenzy, finally shifting down and rolling atop him to achieve her orgasm. Fortunately it always took longer for Joe to cum when a woman took the cowgirl position. After, she somehow turned around while he remained inside and moved her body down, and he realized what she wanted, moving from beneath her, clutching her hips, and pulling her into him in a doggy style position. He shifted, letting go of the hips and bringing one hand to her hanging tits and the other to her clit, practically holding her up with the latter hand, and like he had before, let himself go fucking her hard and fast until he came, happily not long after she did. “Fuck Joe,” she commented softly after. “Yeah,” Joe agreed. She did the securing of the condom to his penis and they soon took the same position as they had before, her head resting on his chest. “Can I stay?” she asked quietly and shyly. “As long as you want.” “Thanks.” by maxicue for Literotica. This is the first chapter of a novel. The rest of the published chapters are found at the maxicue library of Literotica. Fate's Embrace: 6 Part Series
Waxahatchee rocks, Night Beats rules, Fallout rots, Dusty slays, Eric Mays dies, whitey has had enough, and an ugly cripple is the most beautiful woman in the world.
It's Valley Forge... Follow our clues for patriotic problem-solving, endangered Declarations, and Nicolas Cage doing the most. The person most confused by the film this week was: Riley, defintiely Riley. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for March 23, 2024 is: pedantic • pih-DAN-tik • adjective Pedantic describes someone or something that exhibits the characteristics of a pedant—that is, a person who often annoys other people by correcting small errors and giving too much attention to minor details. Pedantic also means “narrowly, stodgily, and often ostentatiously learned.” // Their habit of reminding fellow birders that the bird is called a “Canada goose” and not a “Canadian goose” came across as pedantic rather than helpful. // Several attendees walked out of the lecture due to the pedantic nature of the presentation. See the entry > Examples: “Published ... in 1818, ‘Frankenstein; or, the Modern Prometheus' is a terrifying, thought-provoking novel about the nature of humanity and the consequences of bringing life into the world. The titular character, as many a pedantic fan will have you know, isn't the monster but his creator Victor Frankenstein.” — Wilson Chapman, Indie Wire, 12 Feb. 2024 Did you know? In Shakespeare's day, a pedant was a male schoolteacher. The word's meaning was close to that of the Italian pedante, from which the English word was adapted. Someone who was pedantic was simply a tutor or teacher. But some instructional pedants of the day must have been pompous and dull because by the early 1600s both pedant and pedantic had gained extended senses applying to anyone who was obnoxiously and tediously devoted to their own academic acumen. When describing arguments, pedantic can be used for instances where one relies too heavily on minor details as a way to show off one's intelligence.
Derek and Corinne take a quick break to discuss one of their favorite things: horror! In this episode, Derek walks Corinne through the origin and first issue of Afterlife with Archie.
SHOW NOTES: We're throwing ourselves through The Time Tunnel as Casual Trek decides to travel back to the past and to the future in a discussion about Time Travel. Kirk, Spock and Erickson (who is THE worst) break history and Spock have to fix it in ‘Yesteryear', Janeway and Paris have to dress up in Burger King Uniforms when they travel back in time a day in ‘Time and Again' and La'an and A Kirk try out poutine and Chess hustle in Toronto in Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow. Episodes include TAS: Yesteryear (14:38) VOY: Time and Again, (37:17) and SNW: Tomorrow And Tomorrow And Tomorrow (1:07:10) Talking Points include: We never know anything about The Time Tunnel, David McCallum's The Invisible Man Fleshsuit, Roger Corman's ‘The Terror,' The Monkees' movie- Head, 90s Direct to Video Movies, Shin Kamen Rider and all the excitement that entailed, Miles' Mum's past as a teeny bopper, Stevem Segal, Sarek is still the worst father in all of Trek, He-Man fashion and Godzilla's sound effects, the cavalier use of the Guardian of Forever, no-one cares about Erickson, how the shorter run time of The Animated Series means we have to rush through some pacing issues, the Grandfather Paradox, what to do when you meet your younger self, Charlie tried to make both Long Hair and Fetch happen, giving our younger self some good music, Miles thought Cotton Eyed Joe was a meme only, 4Chan, the podcast Inform, Educate, Entertain, the terrible outfits that look like Burger King uniforms, the Prime Directive, does travelling back a day count as time travel? How protesters are seen in pop culture in the 90s, child death and endangerment, why isn't time travel a course in Starfleet Academy, how double-dating with siblings is weird and neither of us like the idea, how Voyager completely didn't go in a way Miles found potentially interest way back in episode 1 of the show. Tom Paris, Leave that Child Bride Alone! Time travel episodes of Red Dwarf. How Mornington Crescent made one of Miles' university tutors unfriend him on Facebook. The best Shakespeare quotes for future episodes of Star Trek, how Canada has been used for everything, sliding timescales both in Star Trek and the Marvel Comics and how the Time War in Doctor Who ended up causing it's own problem, how Strange New Worlds reacts to Time Travel much differently from TOS. PEDANTS CORNER: Nothing to be Pedantic about this week, if you see something we missed, let us know! NEXT WEEK: We get a Guest-Star in Celeste as we talk about the Trills.
Backseat driving or genuine concern? Pedantic hindsight or thoughtful advice?As machine operating enthusiasts, the Addicts discuss the emotional load derived from being a powerless vehicular bystander, or in other words: a passenger.This and more on Episode 49 of Collecting Addicts!---(00:00) Intro(01:18) Land Rover Discovery 4(16:20) 5 motoring heroes(35:43) How to be a passenger(56:06) Guenther Steiner(01:08:53) Two car garage(01:18:34) Driving Tunes Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
On the November 29, 2023 episode of Liberal Dan Radio we will discuss the prisoner/hostage swaps some more. Some people are saying Israel also has hostages. Is this true? Am I being overly pedantic for saying they are prisoners? Am I being anti-semantic? Also, we will go into what Senator Schumer said on the Senate floor today. If we have time, we will do more Unravelling Toxic Masculinity. Live at 8PM Central on Liberal Dan Radio, Talk From The Left, That's Right. Listening live? You can also watch on YouTube! You can comment on the show thread at liberaldan.com, on the Liberal Dan Radio Facebook page, and @liberaldanradio on Twitter. Also, heck out the Liberal Dan Radio Minicast. You can become a Liberal Dan Radio Patreon. If you don't feel like a subscription, you can also Buy Me A Cider. “Hypocrite of the Week” – Music: If I Had a Chicken – Kevin MacLeod
In this week's podcast, Dario, Kaz, and Matt join Henry to go over our worst and silliest complaints, as well as some of the things that never fail to put a smile on our face.
The Man of the West is not a don, but may or may not be pedantic. But one pedantic don had thoughts about the formidable task of translating The Lord of the Rings. Also, a new book is published!This show is part of the Spreaker Prime Network, if you are interested in advertising on this podcast, contact us at https://www.spreaker.com/show/5854727/advertisement
Episode: 2724 Let's be pedants — well, insofar as language allows. Today, let's be pedants.
Two pedestrians collide fatefully.by maxicue. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Joe slid through the crowd on the street, not in a hurry, just enjoying it, like it was some kind of game, call it Body Avoidance, a challenge of finding the gaps just large enough to pass through untouched while the bodies continued moving in somewhat predictable ways, though the unpredictable could always happen, adding to the challenge and the fun, that quick burst bypassing the unexpected shift. He loved this game ever since moving to New York, at first when he worked at a copy place in Grand Central Station (nearby where he happened to be sliding through at the moment), especially busy streets around there, especially at rush hours and lunch, and further challenged when he carried heavy packages of copies destined for publishing houses, often pocketing the cab money given to him to walk even farther through more busy streets carrying those burdens. And then when he became busboy and then waiter at the restaurant at Max's Kansas City, a punk club with the music upstairs and the restaurant where he worked downstairs, sliding through crowds of kids his age on weekend nights. It felt like a kind of dance, especially at the club, even with his own special tempo.This time though, for the first time ever as far as he could recall, he collided with someone who seemed to appear out of nowhere, his height of six and a half feet always helping his vision and his traversing perhaps missing her much smaller frame, at least a foot shorter, probably closer to a foot and a half, but more it seemed like she stepped into the narrow passage he'd found as if on purpose, finding the perfect moment for collision. But of course that would have been impossible, her knowing when to get in his way, when he'd happen to be sliding through at that very moment, unless fate could be considered purposeful.“Asshole,” the young woman growled from the concrete in which his impact sent her, landing on her ass and a hand that prevented something worse like concussion and scraping it for the trouble. With him stopped standing over her, the crowd flowed around the sudden impediment like cattle somehow avoiding stampeding, though less animal and more human since the flow went both ways.He looked down at a blonde waif, skinny and frail, her t shirt and jeans too big for her and looking well past new, the t shirt white with a band logo he was unfamiliar with showing every stain, and there were many, the jeans showing a small right kneecap where the cloth had frayed. The navy peacoat, too warm for the balmy, almost summerlike weather unusual this early in the year, splayed open.“I'm so sorry,” Joe exclaimed, and when his stretched out hand was avoided by her, he insisted, “Let me help you up.” She finally allowed his large hand to take hold of her small slim one aiding her to standing. “I didn't see you,” he added.“Obviously,” she smirked, adjusting her stuffed and scuffed red backpack on her shoulders.“Hungry?” he asked.“I could eat,” she half smiled.He guided her across the street and to the end of the block where one of the last of the Horn and Hardarts automats existed and put coins into the slots for her tuna sandwich and chips and for his egg salad. He bought her a Coke and he got coffee. She used the toilet there to clean her scrape amongst other things since she took a while, which worried him, thinking she might have run off, but of course she didn't, having food waiting for her.“I'm Joe,” he told her.“Jenny,” she replied before filling her mouth with a bite of sandwich.They said nothing for a while since she devoured her food, obviously needing it.“Anything else?” he asked.“Maybe a pie? The lemon meringue looked tempting.”“Okay if we share?” he asked.“That's fine.”“Uhm, are you going to stay?” He looked at her, saw her eyes pooling and she sniffled. “Please?”Her smile nearly broke his heart when she replied, “Nowhere better to be.”“Good. After we eat, let's get that scrape taken care of.”“Okay.”They stayed, talking over the small empty plate.“Where are you from?” he asked.“The Twin Cities. Minneapolis.”“No shit! Me too!”“No shit!”“No shit. Where?”“Robbinsdale.”“Golden Valley.”“No shit?”“No shit.”The two suburbs were neighbors, Robbinsdale more middle class than Golden Valley, which tended to be more upper middle class, a lot of professionals, doctors, lawyers and professors, his dad being of the latter type.Fate.“You work around here?” she asked, since Joe had dressed up in a jacket and tie, the tie loose around his neck.“I used to,” he told her. “I'm actually applying for jobs presently.”“Presently,” she giggled.“Sorry. I tend to talk like I have a stick up my butt.”“No, it's cute.”“Glad you think so,” he chuckled.“How's the job search going?” she asked.“Not great unfortunately. My uncle's an executive at the William Morris Agency, and I hoped that might help, but I guess he's against nepotism. It's possible I'll get a job in their mail room. I applied at other offices, but I'm making a career change, or hoping to, and have got little experience.”“From what?” she asked.“I used to be a waiter at Max's Kansas City.”“No shit!”“No shit.”“Why not stay there?”“I needed a change,” he murmured, unconsciously stroking his arm.Jenny sensing Joe's discomfort regarding the subject wisely ended that line of inquiry. “What's the William Morris Agency?” she asked instead.“It's one of the largest talent agencies in America,” he told her.“Cool.”“Yeah. It's had its perks. Getting turned on to Bowie early because my uncle wrote the contract that signed him. Meeting cool stars at a party at his house upstate. Going to openings like the movie Hair and Apocalypse Now, the last a brand new print and sitting close.”“Is that cool?” she asked.“Pretty cool,” he chuckled.When they left the automat, he told her, “Let's get you some anti-bacteria for your scrape and Band-Aids. I know a drugstore nearby.”“You don't have anything at home?” she asked, surprising him.“Um…you sure?”“I'm sure,” she smiled, and he could see those pretty blue eyes pool again.“I can get something on the way,” he decided.“Great!”Since the drugstore was close by, he went there anyway, and while getting the first aid stuff, she waited for him near the counter. “Need any of these?” she blushed, pointing to the rack of condoms.His cock stiffened in his pants while he grabbed a sixpack of lubricated Trojans. She stayed his hand and grabbed a twelve pack instead. “Holy shit,” he thought.Both were blushing while he made the purchase.They walked over to Grand Central and took the subway south to Fourteenth Street close to where he lived. They entered a door between a couple non-descript store fronts and climbed the stairs three floors, Joe unlocking a door on the left at the top. Fortunately none of his roommates were around in the shared area, probably sleeping since they tended to keep vampire hours, and Joe guided Jenny down a hallway, taking a sharp right and, pushing aside a beaded curtain, gestured her through. He had by far the largest bedroom in the three bedroom apartment, a couple large windows unfortunately facing the wall of another building. Unfortunate not for the view, but for the easy access from the roof to the room, the probable path taken when someone broke in and stole his record collection and his typewriter not long before. Or they could have just walked in, because he knew the probable culprit, since he'd seen the junkie just off St. Marks selling his records, a regular at Max's.“Sorry for the mess,” he apologized, and Joe was a definite slob.“No problem,” she responded. “Beggars can't be choosers.”“Jenny?”“Mind if I take a shower?” she sniffled.“Not at all. Just a second.” He knelt in front of a small cabinet and grabbed a towel for her. “The red door on the right,” he told her.For some reason they'd painted the bathroom a deep red, including the door, the rest of the apartment with white walls.He cleaned up his place while she showered, neatening the books and papers on the coffee table, the table on which he used to type before losing his typewriter, and tossing clothes into a gunny sack he used to tote down to go to the nearest laundromat a block or so away.She returned carrying her clothes and her bag, wearing the towel with it tucked between her cleavage, more of it than he expected, and when she unceremoniously dropped the towel, she sported perky b cup breasts, all the more substantial looking on her petite frame. She was skinny but fortunately not completely starved, no bones jutting out, her belly youthfully firm with just a hint of convexity, and her full bush, being blonde, seemed less substantial than if it were dark. Her waist curved subtly, neither what some would call child bearing hips, but not boyish either. This was definitely a woman.“Like what you see?” she smiled, turning, and showing him a perfect firm round ass. He also noticed muscled thighs and her arms even had some definition.“Wow,” he said. “You're definitely in shape.”“Dreams of being a prima ballerina,” she sniffled.He sat on the bed and patted his lap. “Come here.”“You have way too many clothes on,” she sniffled and giggled.“Come here, Jenny,” he said more forcefully.She sat on his lap sideways. He reluctantly kept his hands off her.“Tell me,” he said.“You don't want to fuck me?”“Of course I do. Tell me.”She sobbed. Only then did he embrace her across her middle, her face ending up against his chest. He could feel the tears wet his shirt. “Tell me,” he repeated.“I…had to,” she choked out.“Had to?”“Your shirt,” she murmured, pulling her head away.“It's okay,” he insisted, gently pulling her head back.“I auditioned over the years to get into ballet school here, but no takers,” she managed to say. “I wanted to be a ballerina but I guess I'm not good enough.”“Best to know I guess,” Joe tried.“It's not that. Oh, okay that kind of sucked, but mostly I wanted to get away.”“From?”“Everything!”“Including?”“My mother's cruel disappointment. She'd been a ballerina until she had me. My boyfriend turning out to be gay. Another boy practically raping me instead making sure I was ready. My father…”“Did he…?”“No, but he was working up to it. Probably looked at me like I was my mom when I was her age or younger I guess. He'd be affectionate, too affectionate as it turned out. He touched me where he shouldn't, not directly but close, you know. I guess I didn't believe it, but it turned out he was actually being shy, and eventually brought my hand to his crotch which got me off him immediately. The last straw…I woke up with him in my bed. I screamed and punched like in his diaphragm which took his wind. Maybe I should have punched lower, but I wanted to be nowhere near that, and when I raced out the room, my mother plods over and my dad says some bullshit about me seducing him, and since it was all about jealousy, him being more affectionate to me, and disappointment, she fucking believed him.“I'm of course freaking out, everything…and then this…but I managed to take some breaths, calming down, and told my mom if she wanted rid of me I needed money. They only had a couple hundred around but my mom takes me to her bank, gets me another five hundred, drives me to the bus station, buys me a ticket to New York, my demand, with her credit card. She actually offered one to me, but I told her she'd probably close it and have me arrested or something, and the bitch shrugged. And I'm like, ‘You're a fucking cunt.' And she's saying I'm a useless slut.”“Sorry,” Joe apologized.“I'm the sorry one,” Jenny actually chuckled.“But…it doesn't sound like sex…”Jenny shifted around so that she faced him, straddling his lap. “I got hit on by fucking pimps, Joe, as soon as I got off the fucking bus at Penn station. I'm not as naïve as I look.”“But you don't know me.”“Like you're a psycho? You don't seem the type and in a way I don't fucking care. A rapist probably wouldn't have brought me home. The hotel I stayed at this creepy guy kept staring at me in the lobby and ended up following me to my fucking floor, so I like got out quick out of there, practically running. And I didn't even dare shower there since the shower room was fucking shared and fucking groady. I was actually headed to Grand Central when we collided, thinking I'd try taking a train down to twenty-third, staying at the Chelsea or something, just to do something cool while I was here and still alive. So Joe, I guess you're the best choice I've had so far.” She kissed him, pulling off the jacket he still wore and unbuttoning his shirt.He broke the kiss when he tossed aside the tie, then lifted her and set her on her back on the bed. He finished the unbuttoning and tossed aside his shirt.“Nice,” she smiled, stroking his chest. Joe didn't work out, but being young, just twenty-one, and working hard at his job as a waiter, kept him slim and slimly muscled.He kept his pants on when he made love to her lying beside her on his side. Kisses continued for a while, both enjoying it especially when tongues were involved, her breath tasting of toothpaste and his presumably not offensive, while his hand began exploring the rest of her. The hand took the weight of her breasts, teasingly moving on before a direct attack on her small nipples to linger on her taut belly and moving teasing across her pudendum, through her soft patch of blond hair, before feeling the smoothness of her thighs and the firmness of muscles, and then under her, lifting her slightly by her firm ass, followed by sliding along her back, across her shoulder and returning to her breasts, fingers moving in on her nipples, caressing and tugging gently at each one, making her gasp into his mouth.Only then did he end the kiss, bringing his mouth to the exploration, finding thrills for her at her ear and neck before moving to her breasts and nipples. Once each one had been appreciated for a while, the second sending his hand down slowly, eventually fingers discovering the dampness of her labia, rimming the edges, his mouth followed the same trail as his hand, and when it reached where she wanted it, he shifted his body between her widened legs and his tongue lapped across her clit, the first touch of it, and she lifted her middle and moaned.Both fingers and mouth remained there, working her gradually to her first climax via a man, especially intense when he stroked her g spot, his other hand tugging at her nipples, measuring the squeeze and building on it since she seemed to handle ever more pressure there.“Joe,” she murmured once she recovered, and smiled when he got up and got naked for her. “Oh my,” she commented at his length, on the thicker side, and definitely longer than the two she'd seen by at least a couple inches.“I'll be gentle,” he promised, opening a condom and rolling it on and moving between her thighs. He brought her hand to his cock to guide him, and she brought it where she wanted it and he slowly pushed in.“Oh fuck!” she moaned.“Too much?” he asked reluctantly.“Don't you fucking stop!” she declared.He pushed into one of the tightest sheathes he'd ever felt and realized he wouldn't last and told her.“Just fuck me,” she insisted, her legs wrapping his thighs as emphasis.Going slow probably helped delay the inevitable, seeming to open her up with each deeper stroke. In the end, he nudged at her cervix, thankfully with his cock completely inside her. He'd known girls her size, even taller, where he had to be careful about the impact there, usually no more than an inch to spare, but enough to cause pain. Not this time. Touching it made her growl, but in a good way.He decided to exploit that, grinding into her, pubic bone against pubic bone which affected her clit too, and just pulling out a couple inches before thrusting in. She seemed fine with that, even enjoying it, so he kept it up while his hands drew in to work fingers and thumbs on her nipples.She began meeting his thrusts with lifts, and her hands grabbed his ass cheeks, and she began pulling on his flesh there, wanting longer strokes it seemed, but he waited until she grabbed hard, closing on being painful, her nails thankfully short, he'd learn later she tended to nibble on them when nervous, and he'd actually seen a little of that in the automat, and she pressed against him one more time before announcing her climax with, “Oh my fucking God!” rather loudly at a high growl. And when she loosened her grip, only then did he abandon himself to fully fucking her, long, ever faster strokes for only seconds before he pressed deep, pushing against her cervix, and cumming.“Joe,” she murmured, her hands pushing his chest.“Sorry,” he responded, hugging her to him and turning them over. He'd reached the last of his ejaculations, every one intense, and reached down to hold the condom to his penis while shifting her higher with his legs.“Mmm,” she responded when it slid out. She shivered a little too as if feeling a last echo of her orgasm.“It'll be better next time,” he promised.She chuckled weakly.“What?” he asked.She shifted forward. Since both of their bodies had fairly equal proportions of legs to torsos, she had to scoot up a bit, her legs straddling his abdomen, her damp pussy pressing into it, for her to look eye to eye with him. Her hands pressed his shoulders to put her face above his.“That was several magnitudes better than the last and only fuck I've had,” she explained.“I thought it was making love,” he argued.“Don't be pedantic, Joe,” she smirked, surprising him.“Pedantic?”“You know what I mean.”“Of course, but…”“I'm smarter than I look.”“I don't believe in the dumb blonde myth.”“I've met several, and not all blondes.”“School?”“And fellow dancers, although most were dedicated enough to be smart too I suppose. Learning to put the time in to do the best you can both in dancing and studying.”“Makes sense. So school…?”“I would have graduated this spring if I hadn't had to run away.”“GED?” he asked.“Probably. I don't imagine going to school for one quarter. You?”“School?”“Yeah.”“I went to Bard in upstate New York for a couple years, but quit because it was ridiculous having parents spend that much money for me to study to be a poet.”“You're a poet?”“Not much recently. I thought New York would be inspiring, but mostly it's been distracting. I'm also interested in filmmaking, like the experimental kind, so no more lucrative. I still have a Bolex sixteen millimeter camera which fortunately the thieves never found.”“Thieves?”“The problem with living amongst junkies. Let me show you something.”He lifted his left arm and she caressed a line of marks near his inner elbow area.“Are those…?”“Tracks. Only one is fairly fresh. It's why I quit Max's: too much temptation. Living here too, but right now I can't afford to move. A friend of mine OD'd and died, and another almost did and I ended up keeping him alive. It was the last straw, and I realized that'd be me, or it'd just be a spiral of inertia, all about the next fix and nothing else, so I quit. Luckily I wasn't too strung out and basically hung with my folks for a week when my dad had his sabbatical in DC this past winter. I drank a bit there, but my parents seemed none the wiser. Anyway, when I came back to work planning to keep my tips instead of spending them all, I did okay until I didn't one day, succumbing to temptation, and quit after that.”“When was that?”“A week ago. I've been job hunting ever since.”“Lucky for me,” she grinned and shifted around, pulling off the used condom and handing it to him carefully and he managed to toss it atop his underpants while she enveloped his penis in her mouth. He worried about her lack of experience, mostly worried about her teeth, but she proved quite capable. He nudged her to straddle his face and had to bend his back a little, supported by his arms so fingers weren't available, and mostly kept her pleasure at a quiet purr, not distracting her from her surprisingly effective endeavors.Once she'd got him hard, she bounced off the bed, found a condom and rolled it on with some study and climbed on and guided him back inside her, carefully, stroke by stroke, sending him deep. Once there, she began her ride, this time having the full effect of his entire cock, to the point she needed to bring it back to her slit when it slipped out a couple times, but seemed to get the length of him soon enough and began riding him at a medium fast clip.He watched the roll and bounce of her perky tits before stilling them with his hands, one letting go to guide her hand to her clit. From that she worked herself into a frenzy, finally shifting down and rolling atop him to achieve her orgasm. Fortunately it always took longer for Joe to cum when a woman took the cowgirl position.After, she somehow turned around while he remained inside and moved her body down, and he realized what she wanted, moving from beneath her, clutching her hips, and pulling her into him in a doggy style position. He shifted, letting go of the hips and bringing one hand to her hanging tits and the other to her clit, practically holding her up with the latter hand, and like he had before, let himself go fucking her hard and fast until he came, happily not long after she did.“Fuck Joe,” she commented softly after.“Yeah,” Joe agreed.She did the securing of the condom to his penis and they soon took the same position as they had before, her head resting on his chest.“Can I stay?” she asked quietly and shyly.“As long as you want.”“Thanks.”by maxicue for Literotica.This is the first chapter of a novel. The rest of the published chapters are found at the maxicue library of Literotica.Fate's Embrace: 6 Part Series
Episode: 2724 Let's be pedants — well, insofar as language allows. Today, let's be pedants.
Who knew there was such a thing? Well, Laurel Lehman discovered it along her conversion journey when, in college, her pastor told her there was a "well-trodden path" through the Episcopal Church to Judaism. And that's where she ended up. Apparently even though Bible study was never her thing, the intense pedantry we embrace and employ in our Torah study discussions really rang her bell. And so, while following an obsessive need to understand whether or not there was an “h” at the end of a transliterated Hebrew word, Laurel discovered her nascent Jewish soul. Laurel, welcome home. Some of the names you heard in this episode include Rabbi Aaron Miller and Rabbi Eliana Fischel, whose rabbinical duties at Washington Hebrew Congregation include teaching adult education classes such as the 12 Jewish Questions Laurel mentions in the episode. Abraham Joshua Heschel was a Polish rabbi and philosopher, deported from Germany by the Nazis in 1938, whose writings about Jewish spirituality, work on interfaith dialogue, and active presence in the American Civil Rights Movement made him well-known and respected among leaders across faiths during his lifetime.GLOSSARY:Tsuris: Yiddish for aggravation or distress.Pedantic: to be annoyingly concerned with minor details, formal rules, or correcting small errors, especially as a way to show off knowledge.Minion: A group of 10 people, the minimum amount of Jewish adults (traditionally men) that is required to say certain prayers that must be said communally. Challah: the braided egg bread especially traditional to Ashkenazi (of Central or Eastern European descent) Jews and eaten on holidays, especially Shabbat, the Hebrew word for "sabbath." Tzedakah: often translated as “charity,” the word actually means “justice.” While “doing tzedakah” may involve giving money or time to charities, it's based on the idea that everyone is entitled to certain things in life, like enough food to eat, shelter and dignity, and helping to provide those things is not charitable, it's balancing the scales of justice. Mitzvah: often translated as “good deed,” the word actually means “commandment,” but has expanded to impart the idea that doing good deeds or "doing the right thing" is not a favor; it's not optional, it is required. G'mar Chatimah Tovah: (also spelled “g'mar chatima tova”) the greeting said at Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement) meaning “a good final sealing” to wish someone a good year to come by being sealed in the Book of Life.Kabbalah: A form of Jewish mysticism that became widespread in Provence and Spain in the 12th and 13th centuries and, among other things, involves searching for secret knowledge and hidden meaning in texts. Tikkun Olam: meaning “world repair,” is a concept that all human beings are responsible for one another and the world, and for repairing harm and damage through their actions, big or small.Hanukkiah: the 9-branched candelabra used to celebrate HanukkahLINKSSupport the showLike the show? Support it! Or don't, that's cool too. Just glad you're here! https://www.buzzsprout.com/2196108/supporters/new
Our guest Matthew Broussard is a self-professed "Disgraced financial analyst" who happens to be very good at telling jokes. You may know him from his appearances on Conan, @midnight and the Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. He has also been featured on Comedy Central Presents and his album “Pedantic” is available where ever you listen to comedy albums, most importantly he will be our headliner this weekend at Comedy @ the Carlson Tickets are on sale for Matthew's performances this weekend at Carlsoncomedy.com and please follow Matthew on social media @mondaypunday on all platforms WATCH THE EPISODE ON YOUTUBE HERE
Professor Pedantic manages to start our first investigation into bionics with today's interview with Mike Hogan. Meanwhile, Doctor Geek learns the universe depends on him retaking the laboratory.
How do you politely correct spouse? Can constantly correcting your spouse be seen as disrespectful? What?/when is the right time in place to check/correct your partner? How do you ask someone to correct their behavior? Why do some spouses become angry when they are corrected? Should a work in progress ( WIP) try to correct another work in progress ( WIP)? In what way should your partner be allowed to pull your coat tail? I E check you? What do you call a person who always corrects you? What do you call a person who always corrects you?
This week they discuss another new promise of high temperature super conductors. They smoke the Obsidian Redrum and drink the Orchard House Blended scotch whisky from Compass Box. In the end they discuss the usage of the term 'hot water heater'. https://www.sciencenews.org/article/superconductor-room-temperature-scrutiny
Amanda and Sarah meet at the intersection of sex and crime with two very different stories. Amanda celebrates Women's History Month with the story of Jane Toppan, a nurse/serial killer believed to derive pleasure from drugging her patients to death. Sarah investigates the historical connections between execution by hanging, the mandrake root, and erotic asphyxiation. Other subjects covered include the masculine urge to send bad gifs, chore preferences, and bunny decor. Recommendations: Amanda recommends the films Remember My Name and Cruising. Sarah recommends the book How to Keep House While Drowning. Sources: “Autoerotic Deaths,” Practical Forensic and Investigative Perspectives Wikipedia/Erotic asphyxiation Wikipedia/Death erection BBC News (The plant that can kill and cure) "Myths and mandrakes" by Anthony John Carter Botanical.com (Mandrake) Wikipedia/Jane Toppan New England Historical Society (JOLLY JANE TOPPAN, THE KILLER NURSE OBSESSED WITH DEATH) NY Daily News (Killer Boston nurse finally went too far when she poisoned entire family in 1901) Find A Grave (Jane Toppan) Radford University (Jane Toppan “Jolly Jane”) For updates on future episodes and other fun stuff, follow us on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, or check out our Patreon.
Episode: 2724 Let's be pedants — well, insofar as language allows. Today, let's be pedants.
Hughesy & Kate Catchup - Hit Network - Dave Hughes and Kate Langbroek
Our Best In Show podcast features some of our favourite moments from the week that was on Hughesy, Ed & Erin.Subscribe on LiSTNR: https://play.listnr.com/podcast/hughesy-ed-and-erinSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Hughesy & Kate Catchup - Hit Network - Dave Hughes and Kate Langbroek
On today's catch up with the crew, a Text Trauma battle over protein, Erin's without Eliza for almost two weeks and Russell Crowe with an impromptu chat with the team! Subscribe on LiSTNR: https://play.listnr.com/podcast/hughesy-ed-and-erinSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
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Join your mechanical specters of the APDC as they review the season 3 episode, “Ghost in the Machine,” from the 1986 classic animated series, The Transformers!Applejack!!! Destroy him, he's lost his mind!! The pedantic shenanigans continue!! Outlaw Country Unicron!!! Spike and Bumblebee, just like old times!! Starscream haunts Scourge!! Metroplex has gone crazy!!! I don't have to show you any stinking passes!! Shuttle-Chug!! In the Real World! Script Deviations!! Iconic Moments!! Are you stupid, or just obedient!?!COCKTAIL – 5:29SHOUT-OUTS – 17:53REVIEW – 22.09REAL WORLD – 55:09SCRIPT DEVIATIONS – 1:04:06ICONIC MOMENT – 1:08:00
Covering the genius Organised ChaosOriginal Airdate: 17th December 2022Watch it here: https://youtu.be/-beINhiSt14
Linguist Kate Burridge with the story of how Old English began on a small, damp island on the periphery of the world (R)
Linguist Kate Burridge with the story of how Old English began on a small, damp island on the periphery of the world (R)
Air humping in leg warmers meets journalistic malfeasance and everyone's lives are ruined. But hey! Jaime Lee is hot, so I guess that's ok. Hailed as the film that ended Travolta's career (briefly, lets be honest) and set Jamie Lee back a few years, Perfect is anything but. Its way too long for such a paper thin plot and is stuffed with repeated unnecessary and irrelevant scenes that keep it dragging you into the depths of your sofa. Pedantic would be an understatement. But poorly acted is not how we would describe it. At worst, the acting is "meh", "whatevs" levels aside from Jaime Lee who is pretty darn good here. Even Travolta who we love to bash on did just fine. It's not the actors who are at fault here. What IS wild about this is how heavily involved Rolling Stones magazine is, while also managing to paint the rag in a very bad light. Its somehow screaming out to us in 1985 "WE DON'T ACTUALLY DO GOOD JOURNALISM! DON'T TRUST US!". At no point, would I have wanted to place a subscription after watching this so...good job? The plot is baffling and falls into the nonsensical realm of stinkers. Its border-line idiot plot, but also manages to make zero sense and is clear that no one involved knew anything about either federal espionage law, the FISA act, or subpoenas. Yes I know that maybe the majority of Americans don't but we aren't writing movies about that material either. A lot of the film's dumbness could have been avoided with just a single call to an attorney. Lastly, the film manages to step on its own John Thomas. In the climax of their relationship, Jamie Lee's Jesse Wilson deletes the article that Travolta's Adam Lawrence was writing (poorly) about gym life and how his main focus is a sexually liberated Linda who uses the gym as a place to meet dudes, in her endless pursuit of perfection. Jesse declares it will ruin her life just like a reporter once ruined her own - EXCEPT Jesse has never even met Linda from what we know AND Linda wanted the article to be exactly about that part of her life. The whole thing could have been a statement article on the decade and changed Linda's life for the better but instead Jesse destroys the whole thing (except she never saved the file on the 1985 word processor - oops) and everyone's future along with it and we're supposed to appreciate her position?!?! No she had the power to change LA and thus America's viewpoint of women and what a woman should be, likely allowing Harvey Weinstein 30 years in the business. #metoo could have happened 20 years earlier (saving a lot of people a lot of pain) if stupid Jesse had just kept her grubby little mitts off Adams work. But then Adam does something equally terrible - he rewrites the story as a fluff piece just to get back in Jesse's drawers. He should know better than Jesse about what the repercussions of that original article would have done but instead trashes the whole thing so he could get some gym rat ass. And that's worse that Jesse's actions - she's just a gym instructor. He's a crummy Ben Fong-Torres. Save America? Nah, sweet sweet leotard's crumpled by the bed for Adam! The movie sucks. Skip it.
With only 70% of the EPL fixture list available, James and Nolan find some semi-informed bets for the Friday games (yippy Friday games!) as well as a tasty parlay with ManCity which just can't lose (let's not talk about our ManCity anchor wager from two weeks ago por favor). Season total: -7.0 units Follow us on Twitter. And if you follow our bets and make a profit, it would be cool if you throw us a percentage on Patreon. KThx!
Ben Lindbergh and Meg Rowley banter about the reaction to and tactical underpinnings of the Yankees' controversial decision to walk Miguel Cabrera, the balance between win expectancy and entertainment, and whether analytically-driven changes have hurt baseball as a spectator experience more so than other sports, then (14:20) meet major leaguers Simón Muzziotti of the Phillies […]
Linguist Kate Burridge with the story of how Old English began on a small, damp island on the periphery of the world
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Luke and Andrew discuss the important issues of the day, such as Vince Vaughn's best joke, why red licorice isn't really licorice, and the fragile future of our American democracy. Today's show is sponsored by Calm. Visit Calm.com/tbtl to get 40% off a Premium subscription.
Luke and Andrew find themselves engrossed in a Taco Bell fansite. Also, the original Deadspin is coming back! (But it won't be called “Deadspin”.) And animals say the darnedest things. Today's show is sponsored by Miro. Visit Visit Miro.com/tbtl to start collaborating for free.
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