Podcasts about Portuguese

Excerpt of a lecture for patrons only for 1 year: We explore the tumultuous history of Central Africa, embracing the enormous Congo rainforest, the great rift valleys, the Indian Ocean coast, and the gold fields of the Zambezi basin, as formidable kingdoms—Kongo, the Swahili cities, and the mysterious Great Zimbabwe—emerged in the tropical landscape, adapted to the traumatic incursion of the Portuguese, and eventually struck back against European power, through diplomatic schemes, military struggles, and religious awakenings. This same region of the world produced some of the most remarkable and towering figures in African or world history, such as King Afonso I and Queen Nzingha, as well as many of the first captives to be taken to the New World, including the “twenty-and-odd negroes” that were famously landed at Point Comfort, Virginia, in 1619. Please sign on as a patron of historiansplaining in order to heat the full lecture: https://www.patreon.com/c/u5530632 Image: Bronze crucifix, Kongo, 1650-1750, High Museum of Art Suggested further reading: Van Reybrouck, “Congo: The Epic History of a People”; Edgerton, “The Troubled Heart of Africa: a History of the Congo”; Wills, “An Introduction to the History of Central Africa”; Heywood, “Njinga of Angola : Africa's Warrior Queen” Samuel, “The kingdom of Ndongo and the Portuguese,” ; Thornton, “The Kongolese Saint Anthony: Dona Beatriz Kimpa Vita and the Antonian Movement, 1684–1706”

She ruled the South China Sea, terrified navies, and ran her pirate empire with ruthless efficiency – meet Zheng Yi Sao, the Pirate Queen of Admin.In this family friendly episode of Dead Funny History, historian Greg Jenner dives into the extraordinary life of Zheng Yi Sao, one of the most powerful pirates who ever lived. Born around 1775 in Guangdong, China, Shi Yang (as she was first known) rose from poverty to command a fleet of 70,000 pirates. Her journey began with a job on a boat where she sold secrets to powerful men, and took a dramatic turn when she married the notorious pirate Zheng Yi.After her husband's death in 1807 – either by cannon or storm – Zheng Yi Sao took command of the pirate confederation. She wasn't just a fearsome fighter; she was a master of organisation. She split her fleet into colour-coded squadrons, enforced strict rules (including ear removal for slackers), and offered perks like pensions and healthcare. Her pirates even had a retirement home.Greg reveals how Zheng Yi Sao's empire grew through clever business tactics. She sold protection certificates to merchants, hijacked salt shipments, and outnumbered the Qing navy three to one. Her pirates wielded massive 8-foot guns called jingals and swam into battle with machete-tipped poles. At one point, the city of Canton panicked just from a polite warning of attack.Despite efforts by the Chinese government – and help from the Portuguese and British navies – Zheng Yi Sao remained undefeated. Eventually, she retired in luxury after being paid off by the empire. She may have run an illegal gambling house in her later years, but she died rich and respected in 1844.With jokes, sound effects, and a quiz to test your memory, this episode is a swashbuckling, spreadsheet-wielding celebration of a pirate legend.Writers: Gabby Hutchinson Crouch, Athena Kugblenu and Dr Emma Nagouse Host: Greg Jenner Performers: Mali Ann Rees and Richard David-Caine Producer: Dr Emma Nagouse Associate Producer: Gabby Hutchinson Crouch Audio Producer: Emma Weatherill Script Consultant: Dr Ron Po Production Coordinator: Liz Tuohy Production Manager: Jo Kyle Sound Designer: Peregrine AndrewsA BBC Studios Production

Today's story: Classic stories are an important part of Christmas traditions for both kids and adults. They teach values of generosity, family, love, wonder, and belief. Here are five that stand the test of time: The Snowman, The Polar Express, The Legend of the Poinsettia, A Christmas Carol, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas!Transcript & Exercises: https://plainenglish.com/826Get the full story and learning resources: https://plainenglish.com/826 --Plain English helps you improve your English:Learn about the world and improve your EnglishClear, natural English at a speed you can understandNew stories every weekLearn even more at PlainEnglish.comMentioned in this episode:Hard words? No problemNever be confused by difficult words in Plain English again! See translations of the hardest words and phrases from English to your language. Each episode transcript includes built-in translations into Spanish, Portuguese, Chinese, German, French, Italian, Japanese, Polish, and Turkish. Sign up for a free 14-day trial at PlainEnglish.com

For the full transcript and additional information, go to: ⁠https://buymeacoffee.com/elisousa/portugus-cultural-025-norma-culta-e-portugus-correto For students and supporters, there is a complete guide for you with extra exercises, glossary, and grammar points that are interesting for you to learn at this point. If you are a student, check your student area or get in touch with me. If you are a supporter, send me a message. Get your trial lesson this week! Go to ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://portuguesewitheli.com/gtc⁠⁠⁠⁠ Shall we meet? Follow this link: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://social.portuguesewitheli.com/meetngreet⁠⁠⁠⁠ Hey, wise person! Not everybody wants to read the whole description up to this point. And since you have, I've got a small gift for you to show my appreciation. It's a special report that will help you get rid of all frustrations you might have related to the Portuguese verb tenses.To grab it today, follow this link: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://social.portuguesewitheli.com/confidence⁠⁠⁠⁠But do it soon. One day without that is one day you'll still get angry at yourself because you don't know how to use the verb tenses in Portuguese. Do you want to understand grammar but don't have time to spend an hour with the teacher right now? Check our free Brazilian Portuguese grammar section with articles on a wide range of topics. To visit it please follow this link: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://social.portuguesewitheli.com/grammar⁠⁠⁠⁠ Do you want to understand more of what Brazilians say in Portuguese? Do you consider yourself at the intermediate level? Then grab one of our learning guides for free and see for yourself how much more you can understand after just one week. The grab your guide today, please follow this link: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://social.portuguesewitheli.com/understand

Can you imagine building a robot with a €15 budget? Our latest guest did just that. Marta Bernadino is a robotics engineer and an inspiring woman and joins the podcast this week from Dubai to discuss how she is not only building robots but building robots to do good. She chats to Dylan about how privileged she feels to have grown up in a traditional and authentic part of the country, how she feels connected to nature and how she is changing the world one tree-planting robot at a time. FOLLOW OUR GUESTMarta on LinkedinABOUT PORTUGAL THE SIMPLE LIFE PODCAST: "Portugal - The simple life”, an insider's perspective to Portugal. We already know about Portugal's fantastic weather, food and beaches. In this podcast, we go deeper to meet the people who make this country so wonderful. Dylan, who has made his life in Portugal, shares an insider's perspective on what makes Portugal the unique, beautiful and fantastic country it is.  Join him and his guests weekly as they shed light on the incredible people, culture, history and lifestyle that make Portugal one of the world's best places to live!Don't forget to subscribe to our Podcast to receive more stories about living and moving to Portugal!  ⭐ EXCLUSIVE FOR SUBSCRIBERS⭐ If you're looking to buy a home in Portugal, book a 30-minute call with Dylan here: BOOK A CALL There are only 5 slots available every week – EXCLUSIVE for our podcast subscribers! SPONSOR: Portugal Realty, a Leisure Launch group company, sponsors this episode.   FOLLOW US:Portugal The Simple Life WebsitePortugal The Simple Life FacebookPortugal The Simple Life InstagramPortugal The Simple Life XPortugal The Simple Life YouTubeFOLLOW OUR HOST: Dylan Herholdt - LinkedIn Dylan Herholdt - Facebook Dylan The Simple Life - Instagram If you'd like to get in touch or share your experience with Portugal, Dylan would love to hear from you! Email: ola@portugal-the-simple-life.com WhatsApp: (+351) 910 571 613

//The Wire//2300Z December 19, 2025////ROUTINE////BLUF: BROWN UNIVERSITY SHOOTER ALLEGEDLY FOUND DEAD AFTER BRIEF MANHUNT. STABBING ATTACK STRIKES TAIWAN. NEW YEARS CELEBRATIONS CANCELED IN MANY NATIONS WORLDWIDE DUE TO TERRORISM CONCERNS.// -----BEGIN TEARLINE----- -International Events-Global: Several nations have canceled or reduced their New Year's celebration events for many major cities. Paris, Hong Kong, Venice, Belgrade, and Tokyo have all canceled fireworks, concerts, and public gatherings due to terrorism concerns.Taiwan: This afternoon a complex terror attack was captured on video in downtown Taipei. One assailant began the initial phase of the attack by throwing a smoke grenade into the MRT Taipei Main Station (the central subway station in Taipei). During this initial incident, at least one citizen attempted to stop the attacker, however after a scuffle the citizen had either a medical emergency or sustained blunt force trauma (reports vary), and later died at a hospital. A few minutes after the attack began, it became clear that this initial incident was a diversion, and that the main attack was to be conducted at the Zhonshan Station a few blocks to the north. At some point after the first smoke grenade incident, the attacker moved to the second attack site and began stabbing people on the street right outside the Zhonshan Station subway entrance.The assailant also attempted to ignite a large incendiary device at some point during the attack, which was comprised of a bag full of Molotovs. Concerning casualties, 3x people were killed during the stabbing phase of the attack, and 9x others wounded. Eventually, the attacker took his own life by jumping from a high rise building during a foot pursuit by police, though the details of exactly how this happened remain unknown at the moment. The assailant was later identified as Chang Wen, however no details were provided regarding his motive for the attack.Australia: All seven of the suspects arrested during yesterdays counterterrorism investigation have been released from detention, even the suspects who were reportedly on terrorism watchlists. Authorities state that there was no reason to hold them, so they let them go.Analyst Comment: Analytically speaking, it's not usually a good idea to theorize just on gut instinct that a terror attack will take place, however if there ever were to be a time for such it would be right now. The intelligence value of letting known terrorists escape (so as to reveal the location of their buddies) seems like a good idea at first. However, the value of this investigative technique is negligible when the terrorist cell has reached the final stages of attack planning and have moved into the operational phase. By the time a group of terrorists are maneuvering into the objective area to obtain their weapons before an attack, the other cells have usually already cut contact for security reasons. These guys now know that they are being watched, and the element of surprise is gone at the same time they are walking free.-HomeFront-Rhode Island: Yesterday evening the Brown University shooter was identified by authorities as Claudio Neves Valente, a Portuguese national who was a former student of Brown University. Authorities state he committed the shooting at the Barus and Holley engineering building, before egressing to Boston. At some point during this trip, he is claimed to have swapped the license plates on his vehicle to evade detection. Once in Boston, he is suspected of murdering MIT professor Loureiro, whom he had worked with in back in Portugal some years ago. Last night Valente was allegedly discovered deceased in a storage unit in Salem, New Hampshire.-----END TEARLINE-----Analyst Comments: Regarding the Brown University shooting, many details still remain to be ironed out. Most of the details are sketchy at best

Zech 1:1-21, Rev 12:1-17, Ps 140:1-13, Pr 30:17

Elf on a Shelf: Part 1 Her stalker wasn't who she thought he was; Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Honey smiled at the long line of children waiting to see Santa, flipping her phone from Google Translate back to see the information of the next little girl in line, who was looking up at her somberly with large liquid brown eyes. In her small face was a familiar mixture of fear and hope. Wonder; it was wonder in her eyes, Honey thought. Unlike the tired and jaded adults, dutifully shifting their weight from foot to foot, holding overstuffed shopping bags and all the coats of their kids as they distracted themselves on their phones, the children got more and more excited as they drew near the man in the furry red suit with white trim. Honey loved working with the children; because like them, she sometimes could still see the magic. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Norman shift uncomfortably in the painted plywood throne made for him to sit with the children and discuss their good behavior and of the wishes that they hoped would come true. Even at age 62, Norman still saw the magic with his merry bright blue eyes, but it faded when his prostate pained him. When the photographer got the shot the parent wanted, Honey walked to where most of the long line could see her as Norman flashed her a look of worshipful gratitude. The adults' faces immediately fell, knowing what was coming. "I'm afraid Santa needs to take a quick break because apparently the reindeer have begun arguing again!" Norman put his gloved hands up to his real beard, pulled a comically dismayed face, jumped up from his throne, and ran off toward the restrooms. Honey shook her head mournfully and continued, "The reindeer were all practicing their Christmas carols when Comet and Cupid couldn't decide how many times Santa checks his list in Santa Claus is Coming to Town! Does anyone here remember how it goes?" she asked, scanning the line for people game enough to help. Honey scampered back and forth along the line trying to choose among the eager volunteers, her white-trimmed, pink fur skirt flaring out around her thighs, her long legs clad in sparkly curly-toed ruby slippers and candy cane swirl stockings catching the eyes of several fathers. Suddenly, she gasped listening carefully to her headset, "Nina?" she called out. "Comet and Cupid say they will only stop arguing if 'Nina' gives the answer. Is there a 'Nina' here today? Nina?" Honey looked around at the crowd carefully until the little girl with the big brown eyes, who had been quietly waiting 57 minutes in line, gathered the courage to raise her hand. "Oh! Are you Nina?" she asked, running over and crouching down near the girl. "We just adopted her; she only speaks Portuguese," the weary woman holding her hand said quietly. Honey gasped and smiled widely, "Voc fala portugu s Nina? Maravilhosa!" she said, watching the little girl's eyes brighten excitedly. "Voc pode me dizer quantas vezes o Papai Noel verifica sua lista?" she asked, holding her microphone out to the little girl. "Duas vezes!" Nina said confidently into the mic. Honey listened carefully to her headset, concentrating, "'Duas vezes' it is! They've stopped arguing!" she announced. "But now, they want us all to sing the song in Portuguese! Nina, voc vai me ajudar a ensin -los a m sica?" she asked. Nina nodded and slowly she and Honey taught the familiar song to the crowd in a new language. As always, a hush came on the crowd when Honey began to sing. Heads raised up from forgotten phones. Vague smiles drifted onto the turning heads of passers-by in the mall as they paused in their frenetic search for gifts. It wasn't so much that Honey's voice was beautiful, though it certainly was. It was more that when Honey sang, it seemed to make the things that didn't really matter melt away. To those that believed in such things, Honey's voice was magic. When she sang, people held their breath and didn't even miss the air. Honey closed her eyes as she sang next to Nina. It was a newly acquired habit. Though she had been taught to let her eyes slowly drift over the audience, letting them make a connection with each person as she sang, she didn't do that anymore. She knew he was out there. She felt his presence frequently as she worked, but it was only when she sang that he came out into the open. She couldn't hold her voice steady when she saw him watching her, so she closed her eyes and let the magic continue for the crowd. When the song ended, Honey opened her eyes as the crowd cheered, finding his powerful form immediately as if she had been commanded to look at him. Zach. He had changed a lot in the year since he brought his sister's children through the long Santa line, drawing her almost too-large dark blue eyes to him then, as easily as he did now. After bringing his nieces and nephews through the line, he'd gone home and brought all his neighbors' kids to see Santa in five more trips, watching her the entire time. He looked at her as if he'd never seen anything like her in the world, like he couldn't believe she was real. She had loved feeling his eyes on her then, hearing his voice. She had wanted to climb up in his lap, feel his large arms curled around her, whisper to him about how good she had been that year, and of how much she hoped he would make her wishes come true. Of course, all that was before he'd told her he wanted to kill her. Zach's face looked leaner now, though his body seemed even larger, if such a thing was possible. His brooding, deep-set eyes were not merry, as they had been when children climbed his tree-like body in her line last year. They weren't nervously soft and adoring of every part of her, as they had been at their candle-lit dinner. His eyes weren't rageful or insane as you might expect from someone visiting their object of murderous hate, but rather; they were tortured, trapped. Pain and quiet desperation had taken up restless residence in the windows to his soul. Honey knew she shouldn't look at him so much, but she just wished she could understand what she had done wrong. Once the line of children and parents had cleared, it was long past the official closing time. Honey cleaned up the display and prepared it for the next day while Norman took one last lingering trip to the restroom. Her phone showed numerous messages from work friends from her other job asking where she was. The firm had planned a Christmas party at Gatsby's, a gorgeous club worthy of F. Scott Fitzgerald's glamorous hero. It was also the place where Zach had taken her on their first and last date. The Gatsby's waiter had looked stunned and confused when she shakily ordered herself an "angel shot," the code-phrase used to quietly ask bartenders or wait staff for help when you felt threatened, but after his initial shock, the waiter immediately escorted her secretly to a taxi waiting outside before Zach returned to the table. Gatsby's had saved her life; but she didn't want to go back there. After avoiding call after call from Zach, she finally answered and politely asked him never to call her again. To her surprise, he didn't. He never spoke to her again. Unless she sang, she never even saw him, but she felt his presence almost everywhere. It felt like she was haunted by him; haunted by something wonderful and magical that, inexplicably, went horribly wrong. Her phone buzzed again, the display showing that the firm's senior partner wanted to FaceTime her. Steeling herself, she answered. "Honey Lane where in the hell; oh my god lookit you!" Aaron Timberman held the phone high above his head with his long ex-basketball-player arms and Honey saw a crowd of her co-workers crowd into the picture behind him. "Um, hi sir. Sorry I'm late to;" "You're an elf!" "Um, yeah. It's a volunteer thing;" "Wait, wait, wait; you have the shoes? You know, with the; toes?" he slurred, motioning his finger in a spiral motion. Honey bit her lips and tilted the camera down her body, showing her entire costume, tilting her foot to show off the curled toe. "I'm sorry it got late tonight, but I'll be there as soon as I can get home and get changed;" Timberman looked around at the crowd surrounding him, "Guys, do we wanna see Honey Lane here at the party in some boring old Anne Klein shit, or do we want the elf?" he yelled, pointing at the screen. Behind him, almost a dozen of her co-workers began chanting "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf!" "Get yer ass over here, Elf," Timberman ordered, poking at his screen several times before effectively ending the call. A few minutes later, Norman finally came back from the restroom and gave Honey a ride over to Gatsby's in his red SUV bedecked with a bumper sticker that read, "My other car's a SLEIGH!" Honey hopped out after getting bits of advice from Norman that would have been appropriate several decades ago. With flaming cheeks, she brushed the furry white pompom from her hat out of her face and told the smirking ma tre d which party she wanted, sighing when he grinned widely and escorted her through the middle of the main dining area, much to her horror. When the doors to the party room opened and she was greeted by another round of "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf," she didn't feel much better. She was starving, so she headed over to the buffet and began loading up a plate with delicious-looking things on ice in shot glasses, impaled on sticks, or immersed in flames. She just spied a quiet table in a dark corner and was winding her way toward it to it to scarf down her only food since breakfast before she could be drawn into a drunken debate. That was the plan, anyway. "Hunnybaby! Lookit you! C'mon we gotta dance!" Lee James slurred to her fur-trimmed tits. With a sigh, she smiled and laid her plate down on a nearby table, promising to herself that she would eat right after enduring a dance with the favored junior partner. Unfortunately, after Lee angled her awkwardly around the dance floor, they'd drawn so much attention that everyone wanted to get pics of themselves toasting and dancing with the Christmas elf. At some point, she found herself in Timberman's arms with a glass of champagne in her hand. "Um; what?" she said, almost asking herself how she had gotten there. "I said you look lovely, tonight, Honey. Much better than in a shawl and sheath dress," he said, quickly twirling her around as they reached the edge of the dance floor. "Twirling makes my skirt go up; I'm dizzy," she murmured. A familiar dark figure flashed in the background and disappeared as Timberman turned her again. She looked around, trying to find the figure again, but she couldn't see him anywhere. Why was he there? Had she been singing again? "Well, I'll make sure nobody twirls you, my dear," he said, twirling her and smiling as her skirt flew up her long candy-cane striped legs. "The wives wouldn't like it." "I like your wife's dress Mr. Timberman; looks warm. It covers her ass when she sits, too," she slurred, frowning in confusion at the dark red drink in her hand now. Zach was frowning, and then he just looked blurry again as she swirled around. Maybe swirling made it harder for him to kill her. Why did he want to kill her? It just wasn't fair. Timberman leaned down and dipped her, "I'll make sure to give her your compliments. You know, if you like what wives wear, you should consider getting married. Lee is quite taken with you, you know," he said, stroking his hand against the soft pink velvet of her dress. Honey found herself drifting away and wandering inside her head again, thinking about Lee; he was handsome in an overly-polished way, said funny things, but they always sounded a little mean, like he wanted to be the only one laughing; and he also took her away from the food plate that just floated by on a table. It was still full. She should have eaten that food. What time was it? "He likes my boobs; and he doesn't want to kill me," she agreed eventually, surprised to find that Timberman was gone and she was dancing with Lee James again. "Well, I can't blame him for that; they're fucking perfect; just like everything else. I'm gonna come on them after you suck me off; he murmured, pulling her closer against him. "Let me take you home, Honey; penthouse view of the city; "Umm; no, that's not home; I live in the; railroad place; with the trains?" Honey explained, pointing in what she thought was the direction of the Lowertown Commons. Why did every guy think she lived with them tonight? "Sounds charming, Eliza Doolittle; you should trade up. You don't know how much I'd love twist your arms back and fuck this ass wide open over my balcony tonight," he said, reaching his hand under her skirt and greedily squeezing her bottom. "You'd like that, wouldn't you Honey? I can tell; Lee whispered, his cologne invading her head and making her queasy. "I feel sick; Honey whimpered and staggered away, trying to find the quiet table where the food was that would make her less drunk. The dance floor was confusing, though, always turning around and thumping and flashing. She leaned against a pillar until she got a better sense of where she was. She liked the pillar. It was big and strong; and it stroked her hair. "Honey; wake up, Honey. Open your mouth. You need to take these," the vaguely familiar voice said, cutting through the sleep that had been blocking out some of the pain she felt everywhere. She obediently opened her mouth and the hand put two caplets on her tongue. A water bottle squirted a little cool liquid into her mouth until she moaned and sucked harder, desperate for more. "Not too much. Wait until you can hold that down. I'll give you more in a bit. You don't want that IV back, do you?" "Nuh" Honey groaned. She hated needles. Sure, just about every part of her body hurt more than a needle did, right now, but somehow needle pain felt personal. Like with Zach. He didn't seem like someone who went around wanting to choke everybody; just her. She was nobody special; just a simple girl who kept lawyers organized and tried to be nice. Then, someone wonderful like Zach thought she needed to die. That hurt. Something about her made him go from being tender and intensely loving to someone who; it just didn't make sense. What did she do? Mercifully, sleep faded the pain and clouded her thoughts. Voices below her intruded into a wonderful dream where she was bouncing on clouds. Though not in the same room, the voices seemed strangely clear. "I can't; Terry, she cries when I do that," the pills voice said, making her eyes fly open. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it for a year, but she would never forget it. Her body reacted with a confused mix of emotions, her cheeks flushing and adrenaline searing a path all through her at the same time. "That's because it hurts her. You know what hurts more? Bedsores. Man up. Use the pillows to prop her weight against the parts that aren't hurt on whichever side. It's either this, or she goes back to the hospital, and I have it on good authority you won't be allowed to visit after what happened." "She was screaming; Zach gritted. "Yeah, well they were putting her shoulder back in. People scream. That still doesn't excuse what you did. Since when did you become such a pussy about pain?" Terry asked. "since her." "oh my god." "Shut up," Zach grunted. "Oh my god; "Yeah, that's not shutting up." "The great Z-dog has been taken down;" "Shut up, maggot, it's not like that. I'm just taking care of h;" "By a little bitty pink Christmas elf; Terry laughed. There was a scuffling sound and then a loud whoomp and a forceful exhalation of air. "So, I turn her every few hours until she can do it for herself?" Zach asked, casually. "Yes, sir," Terry choked. "Anything else?" "Clear liquids until she can hold stuff down. Talk to her. Ask her questions. If she seems disoriented or part of her face goes slack, she goes back to the hospital. Don't fuck around." "Got it. Are you squared away, or do we need to discuss this further?" "Squared away, sir," Terry choked, then gasped in relief, panting faintly. "Jesus Christ, you haven't lost your touch. We on for the hump tomorrow at 0 500?" "No. I'm gonna stick close here until she's;" "Got it. Hey, maybe they have those Baby Bjorn things in elf-size. Then, you could just strap her onto your ba; ow! ow! ow, ow, ow!" "You weren't particularly attached to the rest of that sentence, were you, maggot?" Zach growled. "Sir, no sir; Terry squeaked. "I didn't think so. You'll be back here Wednesday," Zach stated, more as an order than a question. "Yeah, if you want me to. Honestly, right now she just needs rest and TLC more than a medic. That stands for 'tender loving care' by the way, not;" "You were just going," Zach said, as the voices moved to another end of the room below her. "Hey, you wanna know what makes an elf's toes curl up like tha;" Terry asked, his question cut off by the slamming of the door. Honey listened, trembling and terrified as Zach paced the floor below her. Though his voice hadn't changed, he sounded nothing like the man that had wooed her so tenderly a year ago. He sounded dangerous, brutal even. He definitely sounded like the kind of person that went around wanting to choke everyone, she thought, strangely relieved that her heartbreak felt a little less personal. How could she have been so wrong in her impression of him? She looked around the room, understanding now how the voices had reached her so easily. She was in an open industrial loft bedroom that opened onto the main floor below. Looking around, she realized she must be in Zach's huge bed, though if the crisply made side next to her was any indication, he hadn't been sleeping in it with her. Looking down her body, she gasped quietly. Her left arm was in a sling strapped to her chest, her legs were covered in bruises, and the right leg that was being stabbed with an invisible knife right now, was wrapped up in an air cast boot. What had happened to her? The last thing she remembered was feeling sick as she tried to get away from Lee's groping hands on the dance floor. After that; nothing. How did she get here? A beeping noise sounded below and Zach walked across the room to what sounded like a kitchen. The sound of water being poured into a cup, the ringing of a spoon stirring it, a pill bottle being opened. Honey shivered, realizing he was probably coming up to her, soon. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing, feigning sleep. Steps ascending to the loft bedroom. Ankle stabbing, stab, stab, stab, stab with every panicked heartbeat. A tray went down on the nightstand next to her. A chair across the room was lifted and set down by the bed. Honey told herself to breathe slowly, willing the tears welling behind her lids not to leak out of her eyes. He would leave her alone if she was sleeping, wouldn't he? "You're not sleeping," Zach's voice stated, quietly, and her stomach clenched in fear. "You've been waking up for these pills every four hours like a junkie. I know you don't want to talk to me, Honey, but until you're squared away, you're gonna have to. So, cut the crap, open your eyes, and let's get this done." Honey opened her eyes to see his grim face looking down at her. With one blink, large tears rolled down her pale cheeks, and Zach's jaw set angrily. Sitting down in the chair, he put his elbows on his knees and leaned his massive shoulders forward, looking at her. His hands looked like they could crush rocks as he gripped them together. "Let's get some things straight. I don't know what you think you know about me, but acting like I'm some kind of psycho is pretty shitty. You want nothing of me, that's fine, but you're hurt because you screamed and flung yourself down some stairs rather than let me help you to an Uber. You're staying here until you're well, because some shithead at that party gave you enough roofies to be in a coma for almost 3 days and I'm not dragging my ass to that rat trap of yours in the Commons every day to make sure they don't come back while you're weak. Are we clear?" he asked. Honey swallowed and nodded, wincing at the pain in her neck and head. That just seemed to make Zach angrier. "While you are here, you will do as you're told. You will eat what you get, and you will not complain. You see these, here?" he said, holding up the magic caplets that made everything better. "These are the last ones you're getting. I'm switching you to ibuprofen and Tylenol because, unchecked, this Sackler shit will fuck you up for good and that's not happening on my watch. Do you understand?" he asked. "Yes," Honey whispered. At the sound of her voice, Zach's mouth twitched, but at least he didn't look as angry as when she'd nodded and winced. "You will follow your doctor's orders to the last goddamn word. You will rest. You will do your therapy. You will let me help you and you will ask me for what you need because I am not a fucking mind reader. And so help me, if you do anything stupid like get out of that bed without me here to help you, or push yourself away from me like you did at Gatsby's, or any other drama shit that hurts even one hair on that head again, I will personally make you regret you were ever born." "Yes, Zach," Honey breathed, confused. Two more tears rolled down her cheeks. Without thinking, she leaned over to wipe them off on her shoulder and cried out in pain. Zach squeezed his clenched hands together and several of his knuckles cracked. "You don't use my name. You don't get to use my name. You're not getting under my skin again, you hear me?" Zach growled, using his rough knuckle to wipe her tears. "Orders a fucking angel shot in my own fucking club; fuck you. I don't have a name, you don't have a name. You're nothing to me. Understand?" "Yes, sir," she whispered. Honey leaned forward and took the last spoonful of broth into her mouth and swallowed, looking longingly at the noodles at the bottom of the cup. Zach caught a drop of broth at the bottom of her lower lip with the spoon and returned it to her mouth. "No," he said, seeing where her eyes lingered. "I can do it," she pleaded. "Please; I haven't had anything solid since; how long has it been?" "I said, no. You throw up on another pair of my skivvies and I'll be doing laundry twice a week," Zach said, dabbing her mouth with a paper towel. "Why do I have to wear your boxer briefs anyway? They feel weird. They have this hole-flap thing; and there are some places that aren't supposed to feel a breeze," Honey said, lifting the blanket to look down at his underwear loosely covering her hips. "Are you complaining?" he asked quietly. Honey's eyes darted quickly to his face, "No sir," she murmured, looking down at her lap. "I just thought if I had some of my things here, you wouldn't have to do the laundry so much." "I'll worry about what I have to do, Honey," he said, unthinkingly using her name. Startled, she looked up to see his eyes wandering over her, his massive t-shirt sleeves going down past her elbows. She felt ridiculous and disheveled, but something about the way he looked at her made her hold her breath. Then, without another word, he slurped the noodles out of the cup and took the tray downstairs. After that, the two settled into a quiet routine of him feeding her, giving her medicine, and watching her sleep most of the day. She would sometimes awaken to the soft repetitive sounds of him running on a treadmill, or the clinking of him lifting weights downstairs where she couldn't see him. Then, he would go to the bathroom and shower. After his shower, he came upstairs again in his towel and took some clothes from his dresser before going back downstairs to change. Honey found herself looking forward to those few seconds each day, watching his droplet-covered torso twist as he leaned over his dresser. He frowned as he flipped through his carefully folded underwear. "You wearing the grey ones?" he asked, not looking at her. Honey peeked under the covers, "Um, yes sir," she replied. "I'm supposed to wear the grey ones today," he grumbled to himself. Honey didn't say anything. Zach was the one who picked out which underwear she wore today. He was the one who looked away while he painstakingly slipped the old ones off her hips and pulled the new ones over her boot and up her legs until her bottom was covered again. There was nothing about her life that wasn't chosen and executed by him. If he wasn't happy about the color of his underwear, that was his fault. Still, Zach kept rummaging around in his underwear drawer as if another crisply folded grey pair would somehow magically appear. Finally, rather than offend him by laughing, Honey spoke, "Um; you know, if they're clean, I could wear the pair I had on when I went to the hospital and you could have these. It would get you back on schedule; Zach lifted his head from the drawer and glared at her, as if he thought she was making fun of him. Honey held carefully still and shrugged her uninjured limb. She wasn't making fun, she just wanted to help. The movement caused the huge neckline to gape over to the side, revealing her bare shoulder. She waited as Zach stared impassively at her, the vein at his neck throbbing. After a long moment, he walked over and stood next to her, the tuck of his towel right next to her face. With every breath, she inhaled the scent of his wet body and the bar soap he used. A rivulet of water painstakingly slid from his chest and down his abdomen, until finally disappearing into the tightly twisted white cotton. Honey glanced up to see that he had been reading her face as she watched the droplet's progress. With a shaking breath, she blushed and pulled the covers higher with her good arm. With a twist of his mouth, Zach pulled the neckline back over her shoulder again and quickly left the room. That night, after leaving her with a video baby monitor watching her on the nightstand, Zach returned with a bag of her underwear and some of her nightgowns. After watching her excitedly sort through them, Zach pushed them aside and sat on the edge of the bed. "There were a bunch of boxes with tags on them in your living room. What's that about?" he asked. Honey's eyes dropped, "Oh; that's the charity gift thing for kids. You sign up and get them something they wished for and wrap it up so they can have something under the tree, when they wouldn't have something otherwise. It's nice, you know? I signed up for a bunch and I was supposed to wrap them and get them back to the law firm, but I guess; sorry kids," she trailed off. Looking furious, yet carefully impassive at the same time, Zach cursed under his breath and left again, returning with the packages and a huge stack of unused Styrofoam clamshells from Gatsby's, and dumped them on the bed next to her. For the next few hours, they "wrapped" the presents, Zach carefully fitting items into an appropriate-sized takeout box, and Honey trying to make them pretty with ribbons. As she watched him work, occasionally cursing under his breath, she found herself smiling at his frowning face when he was strategizing how to fit a basketball into three disassembled clamshells. "What are you laughing at?" he said, glaring when he caught her at it. "I wasn't laughing. I was smiling." "Why were you smiling, then?" he asked. "I guess; I just like you; sir," she said, glancing over at him. Honey saw a hopeful softness steal into Zach's eyes until he forcibly wrestled it down and a look of hooded sarcasm shaded them. "Yeah, well; fool me once," he sneered. Angry, Honey closed her eyes, blocking him out the only way she could. "You know, that's; that's not fair. Not after what you said; you scared me!" she said, frustrated that, once again, tears were rolling down her cheeks. Zach choked out a mirthless laugh, "I scared you? What did I say, Honey? What did I fucking say? God! I was on eggshells all night trying not to fuck it up with you and then you just; why? Those creeps you were dancing with at that party, those fucking 'nice guys' that drugged you, they were saying shit that made my skin crawl! I didn't even kiss you! I couldn't! I could barely breathe just for looking at you on our date; you looked just like a fucking angel. What did I say, Honey? What did I say?" Honey reached over and grabbed her phone, flipping through her photo album to a screenshot taken shortly before she blocked his number. "You didn't say it; you texted it. I remember watching you leave for the restroom thinking I'd met the love of my life and then you sent me this; she said, handing her phone to him. Zach took the phone, his face going from an angry red to pale horror in a matter of seconds. "This; this; he gasped, "I didn't; send this; to you; he said, shaking his head. "Whoever had your phone did, sir!" she said, emphasizing the last word, making him wince. "I spent the last year thinking you wanted to do that to me; to kill me. Every time I felt you watching me, every crowd I saw you show up in, every dark room I had to go into, that's what I thought about. I thought that a man I was head over heels about; that I could be so wrong about him. So, excuse me for thinking I liked you, sir. I promise it won't ever happen again!" Honey cried herself to sleep that night, refusing to speak to, or even look at Zach again. When she awoke, the bedroom was empty, and a glass of water and a pain pill were waiting on the nightstand. After swallowing the pill, she stared at the ceiling, furious. She didn't want to be there anymore, to be helpless and dependent on him, to obey all his stupid rules. He didn't deserve to take care of her. So, she tightened the straps on her boot and increased the air pressure to hold her broken ankle tightly enough to walk without her crutches. Then, she took off Zach's t-shirt, pulled on her elf dress, and called herself an Uber. It was when she saw the anticipated arrival time of 8 minutes that she realized her mistake. There was no way for her to get down from the loft and out of the apartment quietly in that amount of time. If she used the crutches, she would be able to descend the stairs quickly enough, but they made such a distinctive clicking racket that they would surely wake up her gorilla-like guard. If she hopped down the stairs on her good foot, it might have worked, but her good arm was on the opposite side and she kept losing her balance. Eventually she decided on the most painful course, of going down on her good and bad legs, using her good arm for support. Her boot thunked horribly the first few times, until she got the hang of it and could place it more quietly on the next step and then hop her good foot down to support it before the scream inside her could escape her lips. By the time she reached the bottom, though, she was shaking with pain and exhausted. Curiosity forced her to look around the rest of the apartment as she caught her breath, sitting on the bottom step. It was clean and unmistakably masculine. Exercise equipment took up a lot of the space not already claimed by a leather couch and TV arrangement. Zach lay on the couch, made up with sheets to act as a bed, his feet sticking out over the arm, his hand tucked under the back of his head, his chest rising and falling under the rumpled sheet. If she wasn't so angry, she'd find him handsome; or maybe he still was handsome, she thought grudgingly, closing her eyes miserably and looking away. Why couldn't he be ugly? Life wasn't fair. Uber. Right. Screwing up her courage for what was ahead, she stood and slowly hobbled across the hardwood floor, agonizing over every painful thump and noisy squeak until she finally reached the door. She unlocked the five locks on his large door, each of them being well-oiled and working perfectly. She expected no less of her anal-retentive, grey-skivvies-on-Tuesdays captor. Finally, she tugged open the heavy door to find endless flights of icy steel-mesh stairs leading all the way down to the street where her Uber was waiting. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me; she cried, breaking down into tears. A strong arm slid down around her waist and mercifully shifted her weight off her throbbing foot, "I know. It sucks. You should try it with a rucksack full of bricks," Zach said, leaning his head down and breathing into her hair. "I want to go home," she whispered. "Let me take care of you; please," Zach murmured into the top of her head, "I; it was my fault this happened to you. I scared you, I know that now; but, please believe me that I would never want to hurt or frighten you like that." "It wasn't just that text," she said, pulling her head away and looking up at him angrily. "All year, I never had a moment's peace. Even when I couldn't see you, I could feel you waiting in the quiet or dark places. Even if you weren't there;" "I was there," he confessed. "I was always there. I didn't understand what had gone wrong. You didn't want to talk to me, and the world just didn't make sense to me unless I knew where you were, what you were doing; unless I knew you were safe." "Maybe you knew I was safe, but I didn't! I thought I'd done something; that somehow I deserved to have this beautiful, scary monster hunting me. I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd done to destroy something that was so; wonderful." "You didn't do anything, Honey. Nothing at all. You were perfect. You were so perfect that I couldn't keep; you didn't do anything wrong. I never meant to send you that message; please, please believe me." "Why did you send it?" she asked, finally looking up into his eyes. The dark blue liquid pools of her eyes turned violet in the moonlight, and Zach felt a tightening in his chest. "I; I can't tell you that; but it was never meant for you." "You mean, you meant to send that message to someone else? To hurt them like that?" "Honey, I; Zach said, looking around, unable to meet her eyes, "Please, I can't; you wouldn't understand; my life isn't like that anymore." "I want to go home, Zach; please," she whispered. Zach closed his eyes for a long moment before he swallowed and nodded, looking like he was in more pain than she was. "I'll take you home tomorrow, okay? Or Terry will, if you don't want me to. He'll check the place out, make sure you're set up and safe there. You're tired, you're hurting, and your Uber's gone, now. Let me take you back upstairs and you can go in the morning. Please." At that moment, a throb of pain shot through her entire leg, and as angry as Honey was, she knew she couldn't face her empty apartment without a few more hours of rest. "Okay," she whispered. To be continued in part 2, Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

Elf on a Shelf: Part 1 Her stalker wasn't who she thought he was; Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Honey smiled at the long line of children waiting to see Santa, flipping her phone from Google Translate back to see the information of the next little girl in line, who was looking up at her somberly with large liquid brown eyes. In her small face was a familiar mixture of fear and hope. Wonder; it was wonder in her eyes, Honey thought. Unlike the tired and jaded adults, dutifully shifting their weight from foot to foot, holding overstuffed shopping bags and all the coats of their kids as they distracted themselves on their phones, the children got more and more excited as they drew near the man in the furry red suit with white trim. Honey loved working with the children; because like them, she sometimes could still see the magic. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Norman shift uncomfortably in the painted plywood throne made for him to sit with the children and discuss their good behavior and of the wishes that they hoped would come true. Even at age 62, Norman still saw the magic with his merry bright blue eyes, but it faded when his prostate pained him. When the photographer got the shot the parent wanted, Honey walked to where most of the long line could see her as Norman flashed her a look of worshipful gratitude. The adults' faces immediately fell, knowing what was coming. "I'm afraid Santa needs to take a quick break because apparently the reindeer have begun arguing again!" Norman put his gloved hands up to his real beard, pulled a comically dismayed face, jumped up from his throne, and ran off toward the restrooms. Honey shook her head mournfully and continued, "The reindeer were all practicing their Christmas carols when Comet and Cupid couldn't decide how many times Santa checks his list in Santa Claus is Coming to Town! Does anyone here remember how it goes?" she asked, scanning the line for people game enough to help. Honey scampered back and forth along the line trying to choose among the eager volunteers, her white-trimmed, pink fur skirt flaring out around her thighs, her long legs clad in sparkly curly-toed ruby slippers and candy cane swirl stockings catching the eyes of several fathers. Suddenly, she gasped listening carefully to her headset, "Nina?" she called out. "Comet and Cupid say they will only stop arguing if 'Nina' gives the answer. Is there a 'Nina' here today? Nina?" Honey looked around at the crowd carefully until the little girl with the big brown eyes, who had been quietly waiting 57 minutes in line, gathered the courage to raise her hand. "Oh! Are you Nina?" she asked, running over and crouching down near the girl. "We just adopted her; she only speaks Portuguese," the weary woman holding her hand said quietly. Honey gasped and smiled widely, "Voc fala portugu s Nina? Maravilhosa!" she said, watching the little girl's eyes brighten excitedly. "Voc pode me dizer quantas vezes o Papai Noel verifica sua lista?" she asked, holding her microphone out to the little girl. "Duas vezes!" Nina said confidently into the mic. Honey listened carefully to her headset, concentrating, "'Duas vezes' it is! They've stopped arguing!" she announced. "But now, they want us all to sing the song in Portuguese! Nina, voc vai me ajudar a ensin -los a m sica?" she asked. Nina nodded and slowly she and Honey taught the familiar song to the crowd in a new language. As always, a hush came on the crowd when Honey began to sing. Heads raised up from forgotten phones. Vague smiles drifted onto the turning heads of passers-by in the mall as they paused in their frenetic search for gifts. It wasn't so much that Honey's voice was beautiful, though it certainly was. It was more that when Honey sang, it seemed to make the things that didn't really matter melt away. To those that believed in such things, Honey's voice was magic. When she sang, people held their breath and didn't even miss the air. Honey closed her eyes as she sang next to Nina. It was a newly acquired habit. Though she had been taught to let her eyes slowly drift over the audience, letting them make a connection with each person as she sang, she didn't do that anymore. She knew he was out there. She felt his presence frequently as she worked, but it was only when she sang that he came out into the open. She couldn't hold her voice steady when she saw him watching her, so she closed her eyes and let the magic continue for the crowd. When the song ended, Honey opened her eyes as the crowd cheered, finding his powerful form immediately as if she had been commanded to look at him. Zach. He had changed a lot in the year since he brought his sister's children through the long Santa line, drawing her almost too-large dark blue eyes to him then, as easily as he did now. After bringing his nieces and nephews through the line, he'd gone home and brought all his neighbors' kids to see Santa in five more trips, watching her the entire time. He looked at her as if he'd never seen anything like her in the world, like he couldn't believe she was real. She had loved feeling his eyes on her then, hearing his voice. She had wanted to climb up in his lap, feel his large arms curled around her, whisper to him about how good she had been that year, and of how much she hoped he would make her wishes come true. Of course, all that was before he'd told her he wanted to kill her. Zach's face looked leaner now, though his body seemed even larger, if such a thing was possible. His brooding, deep-set eyes were not merry, as they had been when children climbed his tree-like body in her line last year. They weren't nervously soft and adoring of every part of her, as they had been at their candle-lit dinner. His eyes weren't rageful or insane as you might expect from someone visiting their object of murderous hate, but rather; they were tortured, trapped. Pain and quiet desperation had taken up restless residence in the windows to his soul. Honey knew she shouldn't look at him so much, but she just wished she could understand what she had done wrong. Once the line of children and parents had cleared, it was long past the official closing time. Honey cleaned up the display and prepared it for the next day while Norman took one last lingering trip to the restroom. Her phone showed numerous messages from work friends from her other job asking where she was. The firm had planned a Christmas party at Gatsby's, a gorgeous club worthy of F. Scott Fitzgerald's glamorous hero. It was also the place where Zach had taken her on their first and last date. The Gatsby's waiter had looked stunned and confused when she shakily ordered herself an "angel shot," the code-phrase used to quietly ask bartenders or wait staff for help when you felt threatened, but after his initial shock, the waiter immediately escorted her secretly to a taxi waiting outside before Zach returned to the table. Gatsby's had saved her life; but she didn't want to go back there. After avoiding call after call from Zach, she finally answered and politely asked him never to call her again. To her surprise, he didn't. He never spoke to her again. Unless she sang, she never even saw him, but she felt his presence almost everywhere. It felt like she was haunted by him; haunted by something wonderful and magical that, inexplicably, went horribly wrong. Her phone buzzed again, the display showing that the firm's senior partner wanted to FaceTime her. Steeling herself, she answered. "Honey Lane where in the hell; oh my god lookit you!" Aaron Timberman held the phone high above his head with his long ex-basketball-player arms and Honey saw a crowd of her co-workers crowd into the picture behind him. "Um, hi sir. Sorry I'm late to;" "You're an elf!" "Um, yeah. It's a volunteer thing;" "Wait, wait, wait; you have the shoes? You know, with the; toes?" he slurred, motioning his finger in a spiral motion. Honey bit her lips and tilted the camera down her body, showing her entire costume, tilting her foot to show off the curled toe. "I'm sorry it got late tonight, but I'll be there as soon as I can get home and get changed;" Timberman looked around at the crowd surrounding him, "Guys, do we wanna see Honey Lane here at the party in some boring old Anne Klein shit, or do we want the elf?" he yelled, pointing at the screen. Behind him, almost a dozen of her co-workers began chanting "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf!" "Get yer ass over here, Elf," Timberman ordered, poking at his screen several times before effectively ending the call. A few minutes later, Norman finally came back from the restroom and gave Honey a ride over to Gatsby's in his red SUV bedecked with a bumper sticker that read, "My other car's a SLEIGH!" Honey hopped out after getting bits of advice from Norman that would have been appropriate several decades ago. With flaming cheeks, she brushed the furry white pompom from her hat out of her face and told the smirking ma tre d which party she wanted, sighing when he grinned widely and escorted her through the middle of the main dining area, much to her horror. When the doors to the party room opened and she was greeted by another round of "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf," she didn't feel much better. She was starving, so she headed over to the buffet and began loading up a plate with delicious-looking things on ice in shot glasses, impaled on sticks, or immersed in flames. She just spied a quiet table in a dark corner and was winding her way toward it to it to scarf down her only food since breakfast before she could be drawn into a drunken debate. That was the plan, anyway. "Hunnybaby! Lookit you! C'mon we gotta dance!" Lee James slurred to her fur-trimmed tits. With a sigh, she smiled and laid her plate down on a nearby table, promising to herself that she would eat right after enduring a dance with the favored junior partner. Unfortunately, after Lee angled her awkwardly around the dance floor, they'd drawn so much attention that everyone wanted to get pics of themselves toasting and dancing with the Christmas elf. At some point, she found herself in Timberman's arms with a glass of champagne in her hand. "Um; what?" she said, almost asking herself how she had gotten there. "I said you look lovely, tonight, Honey. Much better than in a shawl and sheath dress," he said, quickly twirling her around as they reached the edge of the dance floor. "Twirling makes my skirt go up; I'm dizzy," she murmured. A familiar dark figure flashed in the background and disappeared as Timberman turned her again. She looked around, trying to find the figure again, but she couldn't see him anywhere. Why was he there? Had she been singing again? "Well, I'll make sure nobody twirls you, my dear," he said, twirling her and smiling as her skirt flew up her long candy-cane striped legs. "The wives wouldn't like it." "I like your wife's dress Mr. Timberman; looks warm. It covers her ass when she sits, too," she slurred, frowning in confusion at the dark red drink in her hand now. Zach was frowning, and then he just looked blurry again as she swirled around. Maybe swirling made it harder for him to kill her. Why did he want to kill her? It just wasn't fair. Timberman leaned down and dipped her, "I'll make sure to give her your compliments. You know, if you like what wives wear, you should consider getting married. Lee is quite taken with you, you know," he said, stroking his hand against the soft pink velvet of her dress. Honey found herself drifting away and wandering inside her head again, thinking about Lee; he was handsome in an overly-polished way, said funny things, but they always sounded a little mean, like he wanted to be the only one laughing; and he also took her away from the food plate that just floated by on a table. It was still full. She should have eaten that food. What time was it? "He likes my boobs; and he doesn't want to kill me," she agreed eventually, surprised to find that Timberman was gone and she was dancing with Lee James again. "Well, I can't blame him for that; they're fucking perfect; just like everything else. I'm gonna come on them after you suck me off; he murmured, pulling her closer against him. "Let me take you home, Honey; penthouse view of the city; "Umm; no, that's not home; I live in the; railroad place; with the trains?" Honey explained, pointing in what she thought was the direction of the Lowertown Commons. Why did every guy think she lived with them tonight? "Sounds charming, Eliza Doolittle; you should trade up. You don't know how much I'd love twist your arms back and fuck this ass wide open over my balcony tonight," he said, reaching his hand under her skirt and greedily squeezing her bottom. "You'd like that, wouldn't you Honey? I can tell; Lee whispered, his cologne invading her head and making her queasy. "I feel sick; Honey whimpered and staggered away, trying to find the quiet table where the food was that would make her less drunk. The dance floor was confusing, though, always turning around and thumping and flashing. She leaned against a pillar until she got a better sense of where she was. She liked the pillar. It was big and strong; and it stroked her hair. "Honey; wake up, Honey. Open your mouth. You need to take these," the vaguely familiar voice said, cutting through the sleep that had been blocking out some of the pain she felt everywhere. She obediently opened her mouth and the hand put two caplets on her tongue. A water bottle squirted a little cool liquid into her mouth until she moaned and sucked harder, desperate for more. "Not too much. Wait until you can hold that down. I'll give you more in a bit. You don't want that IV back, do you?" "Nuh" Honey groaned. She hated needles. Sure, just about every part of her body hurt more than a needle did, right now, but somehow needle pain felt personal. Like with Zach. He didn't seem like someone who went around wanting to choke everybody; just her. She was nobody special; just a simple girl who kept lawyers organized and tried to be nice. Then, someone wonderful like Zach thought she needed to die. That hurt. Something about her made him go from being tender and intensely loving to someone who; it just didn't make sense. What did she do? Mercifully, sleep faded the pain and clouded her thoughts. Voices below her intruded into a wonderful dream where she was bouncing on clouds. Though not in the same room, the voices seemed strangely clear. "I can't; Terry, she cries when I do that," the pills voice said, making her eyes fly open. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it for a year, but she would never forget it. Her body reacted with a confused mix of emotions, her cheeks flushing and adrenaline searing a path all through her at the same time. "That's because it hurts her. You know what hurts more? Bedsores. Man up. Use the pillows to prop her weight against the parts that aren't hurt on whichever side. It's either this, or she goes back to the hospital, and I have it on good authority you won't be allowed to visit after what happened." "She was screaming; Zach gritted. "Yeah, well they were putting her shoulder back in. People scream. That still doesn't excuse what you did. Since when did you become such a pussy about pain?" Terry asked. "since her." "oh my god." "Shut up," Zach grunted. "Oh my god; "Yeah, that's not shutting up." "The great Z-dog has been taken down;" "Shut up, maggot, it's not like that. I'm just taking care of h;" "By a little bitty pink Christmas elf; Terry laughed. There was a scuffling sound and then a loud whoomp and a forceful exhalation of air. "So, I turn her every few hours until she can do it for herself?" Zach asked, casually. "Yes, sir," Terry choked. "Anything else?" "Clear liquids until she can hold stuff down. Talk to her. Ask her questions. If she seems disoriented or part of her face goes slack, she goes back to the hospital. Don't fuck around." "Got it. Are you squared away, or do we need to discuss this further?" "Squared away, sir," Terry choked, then gasped in relief, panting faintly. "Jesus Christ, you haven't lost your touch. We on for the hump tomorrow at 0 500?" "No. I'm gonna stick close here until she's;" "Got it. Hey, maybe they have those Baby Bjorn things in elf-size. Then, you could just strap her onto your ba; ow! ow! ow, ow, ow!" "You weren't particularly attached to the rest of that sentence, were you, maggot?" Zach growled. "Sir, no sir; Terry squeaked. "I didn't think so. You'll be back here Wednesday," Zach stated, more as an order than a question. "Yeah, if you want me to. Honestly, right now she just needs rest and TLC more than a medic. That stands for 'tender loving care' by the way, not;" "You were just going," Zach said, as the voices moved to another end of the room below her. "Hey, you wanna know what makes an elf's toes curl up like tha;" Terry asked, his question cut off by the slamming of the door. Honey listened, trembling and terrified as Zach paced the floor below her. Though his voice hadn't changed, he sounded nothing like the man that had wooed her so tenderly a year ago. He sounded dangerous, brutal even. He definitely sounded like the kind of person that went around wanting to choke everyone, she thought, strangely relieved that her heartbreak felt a little less personal. How could she have been so wrong in her impression of him? She looked around the room, understanding now how the voices had reached her so easily. She was in an open industrial loft bedroom that opened onto the main floor below. Looking around, she realized she must be in Zach's huge bed, though if the crisply made side next to her was any indication, he hadn't been sleeping in it with her. Looking down her body, she gasped quietly. Her left arm was in a sling strapped to her chest, her legs were covered in bruises, and the right leg that was being stabbed with an invisible knife right now, was wrapped up in an air cast boot. What had happened to her? The last thing she remembered was feeling sick as she tried to get away from Lee's groping hands on the dance floor. After that; nothing. How did she get here? A beeping noise sounded below and Zach walked across the room to what sounded like a kitchen. The sound of water being poured into a cup, the ringing of a spoon stirring it, a pill bottle being opened. Honey shivered, realizing he was probably coming up to her, soon. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing, feigning sleep. Steps ascending to the loft bedroom. Ankle stabbing, stab, stab, stab, stab with every panicked heartbeat. A tray went down on the nightstand next to her. A chair across the room was lifted and set down by the bed. Honey told herself to breathe slowly, willing the tears welling behind her lids not to leak out of her eyes. He would leave her alone if she was sleeping, wouldn't he? "You're not sleeping," Zach's voice stated, quietly, and her stomach clenched in fear. "You've been waking up for these pills every four hours like a junkie. I know you don't want to talk to me, Honey, but until you're squared away, you're gonna have to. So, cut the crap, open your eyes, and let's get this done." Honey opened her eyes to see his grim face looking down at her. With one blink, large tears rolled down her pale cheeks, and Zach's jaw set angrily. Sitting down in the chair, he put his elbows on his knees and leaned his massive shoulders forward, looking at her. His hands looked like they could crush rocks as he gripped them together. "Let's get some things straight. I don't know what you think you know about me, but acting like I'm some kind of psycho is pretty shitty. You want nothing of me, that's fine, but you're hurt because you screamed and flung yourself down some stairs rather than let me help you to an Uber. You're staying here until you're well, because some shithead at that party gave you enough roofies to be in a coma for almost 3 days and I'm not dragging my ass to that rat trap of yours in the Commons every day to make sure they don't come back while you're weak. Are we clear?" he asked. Honey swallowed and nodded, wincing at the pain in her neck and head. That just seemed to make Zach angrier. "While you are here, you will do as you're told. You will eat what you get, and you will not complain. You see these, here?" he said, holding up the magic caplets that made everything better. "These are the last ones you're getting. I'm switching you to ibuprofen and Tylenol because, unchecked, this Sackler shit will fuck you up for good and that's not happening on my watch. Do you understand?" he asked. "Yes," Honey whispered. At the sound of her voice, Zach's mouth twitched, but at least he didn't look as angry as when she'd nodded and winced. "You will follow your doctor's orders to the last goddamn word. You will rest. You will do your therapy. You will let me help you and you will ask me for what you need because I am not a fucking mind reader. And so help me, if you do anything stupid like get out of that bed without me here to help you, or push yourself away from me like you did at Gatsby's, or any other drama shit that hurts even one hair on that head again, I will personally make you regret you were ever born." "Yes, Zach," Honey breathed, confused. Two more tears rolled down her cheeks. Without thinking, she leaned over to wipe them off on her shoulder and cried out in pain. Zach squeezed his clenched hands together and several of his knuckles cracked. "You don't use my name. You don't get to use my name. You're not getting under my skin again, you hear me?" Zach growled, using his rough knuckle to wipe her tears. "Orders a fucking angel shot in my own fucking club; fuck you. I don't have a name, you don't have a name. You're nothing to me. Understand?" "Yes, sir," she whispered. Honey leaned forward and took the last spoonful of broth into her mouth and swallowed, looking longingly at the noodles at the bottom of the cup. Zach caught a drop of broth at the bottom of her lower lip with the spoon and returned it to her mouth. "No," he said, seeing where her eyes lingered. "I can do it," she pleaded. "Please; I haven't had anything solid since; how long has it been?" "I said, no. You throw up on another pair of my skivvies and I'll be doing laundry twice a week," Zach said, dabbing her mouth with a paper towel. "Why do I have to wear your boxer briefs anyway? They feel weird. They have this hole-flap thing; and there are some places that aren't supposed to feel a breeze," Honey said, lifting the blanket to look down at his underwear loosely covering her hips. "Are you complaining?" he asked quietly. Honey's eyes darted quickly to his face, "No sir," she murmured, looking down at her lap. "I just thought if I had some of my things here, you wouldn't have to do the laundry so much." "I'll worry about what I have to do, Honey," he said, unthinkingly using her name. Startled, she looked up to see his eyes wandering over her, his massive t-shirt sleeves going down past her elbows. She felt ridiculous and disheveled, but something about the way he looked at her made her hold her breath. Then, without another word, he slurped the noodles out of the cup and took the tray downstairs. After that, the two settled into a quiet routine of him feeding her, giving her medicine, and watching her sleep most of the day. She would sometimes awaken to the soft repetitive sounds of him running on a treadmill, or the clinking of him lifting weights downstairs where she couldn't see him. Then, he would go to the bathroom and shower. After his shower, he came upstairs again in his towel and took some clothes from his dresser before going back downstairs to change. Honey found herself looking forward to those few seconds each day, watching his droplet-covered torso twist as he leaned over his dresser. He frowned as he flipped through his carefully folded underwear. "You wearing the grey ones?" he asked, not looking at her. Honey peeked under the covers, "Um, yes sir," she replied. "I'm supposed to wear the grey ones today," he grumbled to himself. Honey didn't say anything. Zach was the one who picked out which underwear she wore today. He was the one who looked away while he painstakingly slipped the old ones off her hips and pulled the new ones over her boot and up her legs until her bottom was covered again. There was nothing about her life that wasn't chosen and executed by him. If he wasn't happy about the color of his underwear, that was his fault. Still, Zach kept rummaging around in his underwear drawer as if another crisply folded grey pair would somehow magically appear. Finally, rather than offend him by laughing, Honey spoke, "Um; you know, if they're clean, I could wear the pair I had on when I went to the hospital and you could have these. It would get you back on schedule; Zach lifted his head from the drawer and glared at her, as if he thought she was making fun of him. Honey held carefully still and shrugged her uninjured limb. She wasn't making fun, she just wanted to help. The movement caused the huge neckline to gape over to the side, revealing her bare shoulder. She waited as Zach stared impassively at her, the vein at his neck throbbing. After a long moment, he walked over and stood next to her, the tuck of his towel right next to her face. With every breath, she inhaled the scent of his wet body and the bar soap he used. A rivulet of water painstakingly slid from his chest and down his abdomen, until finally disappearing into the tightly twisted white cotton. Honey glanced up to see that he had been reading her face as she watched the droplet's progress. With a shaking breath, she blushed and pulled the covers higher with her good arm. With a twist of his mouth, Zach pulled the neckline back over her shoulder again and quickly left the room. That night, after leaving her with a video baby monitor watching her on the nightstand, Zach returned with a bag of her underwear and some of her nightgowns. After watching her excitedly sort through them, Zach pushed them aside and sat on the edge of the bed. "There were a bunch of boxes with tags on them in your living room. What's that about?" he asked. Honey's eyes dropped, "Oh; that's the charity gift thing for kids. You sign up and get them something they wished for and wrap it up so they can have something under the tree, when they wouldn't have something otherwise. It's nice, you know? I signed up for a bunch and I was supposed to wrap them and get them back to the law firm, but I guess; sorry kids," she trailed off. Looking furious, yet carefully impassive at the same time, Zach cursed under his breath and left again, returning with the packages and a huge stack of unused Styrofoam clamshells from Gatsby's, and dumped them on the bed next to her. For the next few hours, they "wrapped" the presents, Zach carefully fitting items into an appropriate-sized takeout box, and Honey trying to make them pretty with ribbons. As she watched him work, occasionally cursing under his breath, she found herself smiling at his frowning face when he was strategizing how to fit a basketball into three disassembled clamshells. "What are you laughing at?" he said, glaring when he caught her at it. "I wasn't laughing. I was smiling." "Why were you smiling, then?" he asked. "I guess; I just like you; sir," she said, glancing over at him. Honey saw a hopeful softness steal into Zach's eyes until he forcibly wrestled it down and a look of hooded sarcasm shaded them. "Yeah, well; fool me once," he sneered. Angry, Honey closed her eyes, blocking him out the only way she could. "You know, that's; that's not fair. Not after what you said; you scared me!" she said, frustrated that, once again, tears were rolling down her cheeks. Zach choked out a mirthless laugh, "I scared you? What did I say, Honey? What did I fucking say? God! I was on eggshells all night trying not to fuck it up with you and then you just; why? Those creeps you were dancing with at that party, those fucking 'nice guys' that drugged you, they were saying shit that made my skin crawl! I didn't even kiss you! I couldn't! I could barely breathe just for looking at you on our date; you looked just like a fucking angel. What did I say, Honey? What did I say?" Honey reached over and grabbed her phone, flipping through her photo album to a screenshot taken shortly before she blocked his number. "You didn't say it; you texted it. I remember watching you leave for the restroom thinking I'd met the love of my life and then you sent me this; she said, handing her phone to him. Zach took the phone, his face going from an angry red to pale horror in a matter of seconds. "This; this; he gasped, "I didn't; send this; to you; he said, shaking his head. "Whoever had your phone did, sir!" she said, emphasizing the last word, making him wince. "I spent the last year thinking you wanted to do that to me; to kill me. Every time I felt you watching me, every crowd I saw you show up in, every dark room I had to go into, that's what I thought about. I thought that a man I was head over heels about; that I could be so wrong about him. So, excuse me for thinking I liked you, sir. I promise it won't ever happen again!" Honey cried herself to sleep that night, refusing to speak to, or even look at Zach again. When she awoke, the bedroom was empty, and a glass of water and a pain pill were waiting on the nightstand. After swallowing the pill, she stared at the ceiling, furious. She didn't want to be there anymore, to be helpless and dependent on him, to obey all his stupid rules. He didn't deserve to take care of her. So, she tightened the straps on her boot and increased the air pressure to hold her broken ankle tightly enough to walk without her crutches. Then, she took off Zach's t-shirt, pulled on her elf dress, and called herself an Uber. It was when she saw the anticipated arrival time of 8 minutes that she realized her mistake. There was no way for her to get down from the loft and out of the apartment quietly in that amount of time. If she used the crutches, she would be able to descend the stairs quickly enough, but they made such a distinctive clicking racket that they would surely wake up her gorilla-like guard. If she hopped down the stairs on her good foot, it might have worked, but her good arm was on the opposite side and she kept losing her balance. Eventually she decided on the most painful course, of going down on her good and bad legs, using her good arm for support. Her boot thunked horribly the first few times, until she got the hang of it and could place it more quietly on the next step and then hop her good foot down to support it before the scream inside her could escape her lips. By the time she reached the bottom, though, she was shaking with pain and exhausted. Curiosity forced her to look around the rest of the apartment as she caught her breath, sitting on the bottom step. It was clean and unmistakably masculine. Exercise equipment took up a lot of the space not already claimed by a leather couch and TV arrangement. Zach lay on the couch, made up with sheets to act as a bed, his feet sticking out over the arm, his hand tucked under the back of his head, his chest rising and falling under the rumpled sheet. If she wasn't so angry, she'd find him handsome; or maybe he still was handsome, she thought grudgingly, closing her eyes miserably and looking away. Why couldn't he be ugly? Life wasn't fair. Uber. Right. Screwing up her courage for what was ahead, she stood and slowly hobbled across the hardwood floor, agonizing over every painful thump and noisy squeak until she finally reached the door. She unlocked the five locks on his large door, each of them being well-oiled and working perfectly. She expected no less of her anal-retentive, grey-skivvies-on-Tuesdays captor. Finally, she tugged open the heavy door to find endless flights of icy steel-mesh stairs leading all the way down to the street where her Uber was waiting. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me; she cried, breaking down into tears. A strong arm slid down around her waist and mercifully shifted her weight off her throbbing foot, "I know. It sucks. You should try it with a rucksack full of bricks," Zach said, leaning his head down and breathing into her hair. "I want to go home," she whispered. "Let me take care of you; please," Zach murmured into the top of her head, "I; it was my fault this happened to you. I scared you, I know that now; but, please believe me that I would never want to hurt or frighten you like that." "It wasn't just that text," she said, pulling her head away and looking up at him angrily. "All year, I never had a moment's peace. Even when I couldn't see you, I could feel you waiting in the quiet or dark places. Even if you weren't there;" "I was there," he confessed. "I was always there. I didn't understand what had gone wrong. You didn't want to talk to me, and the world just didn't make sense to me unless I knew where you were, what you were doing; unless I knew you were safe." "Maybe you knew I was safe, but I didn't! I thought I'd done something; that somehow I deserved to have this beautiful, scary monster hunting me. I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd done to destroy something that was so; wonderful." "You didn't do anything, Honey. Nothing at all. You were perfect. You were so perfect that I couldn't keep; you didn't do anything wrong. I never meant to send you that message; please, please believe me." "Why did you send it?" she asked, finally looking up into his eyes. The dark blue liquid pools of her eyes turned violet in the moonlight, and Zach felt a tightening in his chest. "I; I can't tell you that; but it was never meant for you." "You mean, you meant to send that message to someone else? To hurt them like that?" "Honey, I; Zach said, looking around, unable to meet her eyes, "Please, I can't; you wouldn't understand; my life isn't like that anymore." "I want to go home, Zach; please," she whispered. Zach closed his eyes for a long moment before he swallowed and nodded, looking like he was in more pain than she was. "I'll take you home tomorrow, okay? Or Terry will, if you don't want me to. He'll check the place out, make sure you're set up and safe there. You're tired, you're hurting, and your Uber's gone, now. Let me take you back upstairs and you can go in the morning. Please." At that moment, a throb of pain shot through her entire leg, and as angry as Honey was, she knew she couldn't face her empty apartment without a few more hours of rest. "Okay," she whispered. To be continued in part 2, Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

Frances Chan chats to German electronic meister Burnt Friedman in his home studio in rural Portugal about his selection of experimental jazz, and his creative processes with Atom Heart and legendary Can drummer Jaki Leibezeit. Burnt also mentions a few local luminaries he met during his visits to NZ in the late 90s/early 00s. Plus some Portuguese vibes and Christmasy cheer. Playlist: Luis Miguel – Santa Claus Llego a la Ciudad Flanger – Options in the Fire  Nuno Canavarro – Blu Terra Bernardo Couto, Bernardo Moreira, Luis Figueiredo – Arabica Flanger – Midnight Sound  Nik Bärtsch & Ronin – Modul 47 Burnt Friedman - Octrahedal Spherical Caffuffle Bohren and the Club of Gore – Constant Fear Roland P. Young – Clutch Carmen Souza – Ariope! The Embassadors – Big Amen Burnt Friedman, Jaki Liebezeit – Gulli Vereisen   Orquestra Jazz de Matosinhos – Circe   John Coltrane – Spiritual Burnt Friedman, Jaki Liebezeit – 130-09  Yes – Soon Ezra Collective – God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen  

A escritora Lídia Jorge é uma figura cimeira da cultura portuguesa. É, à beira dos 80 anos de vida, uma grande de Portugal. E é, sem dúvida, uma das personagens deste ano 2025.

Haggai 1:1-2:23, Rev 11:1-19, Ps 139:1-24, Pr 30:15-16

Drones, militares portugueses e Ucrânia na UE. O encontro de Montenegro com Zelensky em 2 minutos

A inflação abranda, mas 2026 traz novas contas para pagar. Da eletricidade às despesas do dia a dia, onde é que os preços vão mexer mais no orçamento das famílias? A análise deste tema foi feita pelo editor de economia do Expresso, Miguel PradoSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Watch The X22 Report On Video No videos found (function(w,d,s,i){w.ldAdInit=w.ldAdInit||[];w.ldAdInit.push({slot:17532056201798502,size:[0, 0],id:"ld-9437-3289"});if(!d.getElementById(i)){var j=d.createElement(s),p=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0];j.async=true;j.src="https://cdn2.decide.dev/_js/ajs.js";j.id=i;p.parentNode.insertBefore(j,p);}})(window,document,"script","ld-ajs");pt> Click On Picture To See Larger PictureThe Tren De Aragua gang tried to insert malwar into the ATM system to steal millions. Was this the first stage of the [CB] trying to hurt the economy? Trump’s economy is accelerating, the job numbers don’t reflect it because of the manipulation calculation and the jobs that he is removing from Gov. Trump is winning against the [CB]. The [DS] agenda is failing. The D party is on the wrong side of history and everyday that passes the people are waking up to this fact. The only way out is a war and this is why the [DS] is continually pushing back on Trump’s peace plan. Putin has agreed to it, [DS] is fighting it. Trump’s message is clear, we are taking back the country and in the end the D’s and the [DS] will cease to exist. Economy (function(w,d,s,i){w.ldAdInit=w.ldAdInit||[];w.ldAdInit.push({slot:18510697282300316,size:[0, 0],id:"ld-8599-9832"});if(!d.getElementById(i)){var j=d.createElement(s),p=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0];j.async=true;j.src="https://cdn2.decide.dev/_js/ajs.js";j.id=i;p.parentNode.insertBefore(j,p);}})(window,document,"script","ld-ajs"); Tren De Aragua Members and Leaders Indicted in Multi-Million Dollar ATM Jackpotting Scheme  December 18, 2025 – United States Attorney Lesley A. Woods announced that a federal grand jury in the District of Nebraska has returned two indictments charging 54 individuals for their roles in a large conspiracy to deploy malware and steal millions of dollars from ATMs in the United States, a crime commonly referred to as “ATM jackpotting.” An indictment returned on December 9, 2025, charges 22 defendants with offenses corresponding to their role in the conspiracy, including conspiracy to provide material support to terrorists, conspiracy to commit bank fraud, conspiracy to commit bank burglary and fraud and related activity in connection with computers, and conspiracy to commit money laundering. The indictment also alleges that Tren de Aragua (“TdA”) has used jackpotting to steal millions of dollars in the United States and then transferred the proceeds among its members and associates to conceal the illegally obtained cash.   Source: .justice.gov  https://twitter.com/DC_Draino/status/2001781948465746206?s=20 https://twitter.com/profstonge/status/2001993417291960468?s=20   Political/Rights Soros DA Ignores ICE Detainer, Releases El Salvadorian Illegal Who Allegedly Commits Murder the Next Day  Marvin Morales-Ortez, 23, an illegal from El Salvador, was released from custody after the Fairfax County Commonwealth's Attorney's Office, led by Soros-backed Attorney Steve Descano, dropped a case against him for charges of allegedly brandishing a gun and assaulting and injuring someone. Fox News' Bill Melugin notes he was released back onto the streets after an ICE detainer was ignored. The next day, it is alleged he is responsible for the murder of a man found dead in a home in Reston, Va., according to the Fairfax County Police Department. Before the latest incident, Morales-Ortez already had a lengthy criminal record. WJLA News reports, “court records indicate that since 2020, Morales-Ortez had been charged with at least seven crimes in Fairfax County.” Per WJLA: Source: thegatewaypundit.com BREAKING: Milwaukee Judge Hannah Dugan Found GUILTY of Obstruction For Helping Illegal Alien Evade ICE Agents – Faces 5 Years in Prison Milwaukee Judge Hannah Dugan on  evening was found guilty of obstruction for helping an illegal alien evade ICE agents. Dugan was acquitted of count 1 – the misdemeanor but she was found guilty on count 2 – the felony obstruction. She is facing five years in prison. AP reported: Source: thegatewaypundit.com https://twitter.com/FBIDirectorKash/status/2001976516876681590?s=20 https://twitter.com/Brooketaylortv/status/2001867929940574469?s=20   help crack this case since there was no clear image of the shooter entering the building. The suspected shooter was found dead six days after he opened fire at Brown University and killed two students and critically wounded nine. The shooter has been identified as 48-year-old Claudio Neves-Valente. He was a Brown University student and a Portuguese national. https://twitter.com/JohnDePetroshow/status/2002000197124075699?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E2002000197124075699%7Ctwgr%5E4fa4b47b64971deb3c6bff71f8f137f50b1c8efc%7Ctwcon%5Es1_c10&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.thegatewaypundit.com%2F2025%2F12%2Frevealed-here-is-how-homeless-man-blew-brown%2F https://twitter.com/libsoftiktok/status/2001937671115923906?s=20   TARGETED https://twitter.com/nicksortor/status/2001808961906016366?s=20 https://twitter.com/AutismCapital/status/2001865134214647920?s=20  the apartment building in Brookline, Massachusetts, where MIT professor Nuno F. Gomes Loureiro lived and was fatally shot has security cameras. Surveillance footage from the building was used in the investigation, including video showing the suspect entering the premises   authorities have not publicly released the security camera footage from the Brookline apartment building where MIT professor Nuno F. Gomes Loureiro was shot.   https://twitter.com/ColonelTowner/status/2001995157093200088?s=20   his actual storage unit never gets unlocked, and he's found dead in the one next door. I noticed last night that the DOJ AAG was very careful to say he was found dead. Then the following news reports all said he committed suicide. Those are not the same thing. Someone needs to ask about the possibility of him being murdered after his mission was completed. Keep your eyes and ears open No Leads, No Leads, No Leads finally a lead from a homeless man and reddit So the shooter lived in Miami, flew to Providence, waited for Ella, knew her schedule, then drove to Massachusetts, to shoot the professor that he knew in Portugal, then drove back to his storage unit that was in New Hampshire  . He had a foreign phone that couldn’t be pinged and tracked.  So what was the motive https://twitter.com/nicksortor/status/2001878709385728416?s=20   including the NYC ISIS truck ramming terrorist. Our ENTIRE immigration system needs to be SCRAPPED and REBUILT at this point. ENOUGH! https://twitter.com/MarioNawfal/status/2001724267906691531?s=20   Texas and Arizona. Total spending on border construction: $8 billion so far. The full plan: 1,418 miles of “Primary Smart Wall,” 536 miles of waterborne barriers, and 708 miles of secondary barriers. Funded through Trump’s “One Big Beautiful Bill Act” passed in July – $46.5 billion allocated specifically for border wall completion through 2029. The “Smart Wall” isn’t just rebranded concrete. It’s steel bollards combined with patrol roads, cameras, lighting, advanced detection sensors, and in some locations waterborne or secondary barriers. CBP calls it an integrated border security system – not just a physical barrier but surveillance infrastructure covering gaps where terrain makes construction impractical. Here’s the funding story: Biden canceled wall contracts when he took office in 2021. The appropriated money – FY2021 funds – never expired. Trump returned in January 2025 and immediately restarted construction using those leftover billions. Then Congress passed his budget package allocating $46.5 billion more for multi-year construction. DHS Secretary Kristi Noem issued nine waivers since October to fast-track construction by bypassing environmental review requirements. The contracts are moving – $4.5 billion awarded in September, $3.3 billion now, with more queued through 2029. The system includes 536 miles where physical barriers won’t be built due to terrain – those sections get detection technology instead. Another 549 miles will add tech to barriers Biden left incomplete. Trump built 455 miles in his first term, mostly replacing existing fencing. This time the scale is bigger and the tech integration is real. Whether it achieves the enforcement outcomes CBP Commissioner Rodney Scott is promising remains to be seen, but the construction is happening and the funding is locked in.  https://twitter.com/EndWokeness/status/2001837612487840164?s=20 Import IsIamists. Disarm Australians. What could possibly go wrong? https://twitter.com/Patri0tContr0l/status/2001745373052936625?s=20 https://twitter.com/ShadowofEzra/status/2001719516422676556?s=20 DOGE Geopolitical Tren De Aragua Members and Leaders Indicted in Multi-Million Dollar ATM Jackpotting Scheme  December 18, 2025 – United States Attorney Lesley A. Woods announced that a federal grand jury in the District of Nebraska has returned two indictments charging 54 individuals for their roles in a large conspiracy to deploy malware and steal millions of dollars from ATMs in the United States, a crime commonly referred to as “ATM jackpotting.” An indictment returned on December 9, 2025, charges 22 defendants with offenses corresponding to their role in the conspiracy, including conspiracy to provide material support to terrorists, conspiracy to commit bank fraud, conspiracy to commit bank burglary and fraud and related activity in connection with computers, and conspiracy to commit money laundering. The indictment also alleges that Tren de Aragua (“TdA”) has used jackpotting to steal millions of dollars in the United States and then transferred the proceeds among its members and associates to conceal the illegally obtained cash. One of the individuals named in the Indictment is Jimena Romina Araya Navarro, an alleged Tren De Aragua leader and Venezuelan entertainer who was sanctioned by the U.S. Department of the Treasury's Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC).  OFAC's press release alleged that Araya Navarro reportedly helped the notorious head of TdA, Hector Rusthenford Guerrero Flores (a.k.a. “Niño Guerrero”) escape from the Tocorón prison in Venezuela in 2012, and others in this network have laundered money for TdA leaders.  Jimena Romina Araya Navarro was indicted by the grand jury for the District of Nebraska for material support to Tren De Aragua for factual allegations stemming from TdA's nationwide ATM jackpotting scheme that included burglaries of many ATMs located in Nebraska. Jimena Romina Araya Navarro has been publicly photographed at parties and social events with the alleged head of TdA Nino Guerrero. Source: .justice.gov  https://twitter.com/BasilTheGreat/status/2001917147963101255?s=20 https://twitter.com/elonmusk/status/2002018167611408489?s=20 Foreign Office has been hacked – ministers ‘fairly confident’ individual data not at risk Foreign Office data has been compromised by hackers, a minister has confirmed to Sky News, but he said the government is “fairly confident” that no individual data has been accessed. Trade minister Sir Chris Bryant told Sky’s Mornings with Jones and Melbourne that the government first became aware of the hack in October, and was now “on top of it”. Sky News understands that the data stolen was on systems operated on the Home Office’s behalf by the Foreign Office, which detected the breach. The Sun reported last night that a Chinese groups of hackers known as Storm 1949 targeted Foreign Office servers and had accessed information relating to visa details, with “thousands” of confidential documents and data stolen. But the minister told Sky News that it is “not entirely clear” who is responsible for the hack, and he could share “remarkably little detail”. Source: skynews.com Denmark blames Russia for destructive cyberattack on water utility Danish intelligence officials blamed Russia for orchestrating cyberattacks against Denmark’s critical infrastructure, as part of Moscow’s hybrid attacks against Western nations. In a Thursday statement, the Danish Defence Intelligence Service (DDIS) identified two groups operating on behalf of the Russian state: Z-Pentest, linked to the destructive water-utility attack, and NoName057(16), flagged as responsible for the DDoS assaults ahead of November’s local elections in Denmark before the 2025 elections. Source: bleepingnews.com War/Peace https://twitter.com/WallStreetMav/status/2001727675950383572?s=20 https://twitter.com/MyLordBebo/status/2001987088586354804?s=20 https://twitter.com/MyLordBebo/status/2001987615856476213?s=20 https://twitter.com/MarioNawfal/status/2001804678045274293?s=20   holding Russia financially accountable for the destruction. Zelensky: “Basically, as of today, now Ukraine must close this problem and have the money, that’s number one. About the prospects, the most right form is reparation loan, so that we all understand, so that Russia understands that it’s guilty and that it will have to pay reparations.” This push ties into the crunch EU summit over a $105B package funded partly by profits from frozen Russian assets, even as legal concerns and U.S. warnings hover. Zelensky says it's moral, fair, and the pressure tool needed to make Putin back down. https://twitter.com/clashreport/status/2001953679491109013?s=20 https://twitter.com/aleksbrz11/status/2001656372220301547?s=20 https://twitter.com/philippilk/status/2001918505957134742?s=20 https://twitter.com/MarioNawfal/status/2001973600405049683?s=20 ”  some offers and they invited us to certain compromises.’ And with that in Anchorage, back in Anchorage, I said that this would be difficult decisions for us. But we agree to the compromises that are being proposed to us. So it’s incorrect to say that we are refusing something.””So that’s completely incorrect. So the ball is totally on the side of our Western opponents, of the head of the Kiev regime and its European sponsors. https://twitter.com/CynicalPublius/status/2001773196727713853?s=20   other EU countries rattling their sabers and demanding that their native populations gear up to fight Russia in a war that would rival WWI in terms of exterminating a generation of young European men, is it possible that this is part of a New World Order scheme to eliminate native Europeans in favor of their migrant replacements? After all, that would be the ultimate expression of the guilt-ridden, cultural suicide Western Europe has been hellbent on achieving for the past thirty years. Conspiracy theory? YES. Reflective of current sentiments? YES. Take it for what it is worth. Medical/False Flags https://twitter.com/Rasmussen_Poll/status/2001457867614798265?s=20 [DS] Agenda https://twitter.com/GuntherEagleman/status/2001766583757394263?s=20 https://twitter.com/JoeLang51440671/status/2001871246141567421?s=20 Trump HUD Hunts Down Fraud in Colorado: 221 Dead People Were Getting Housing  That’s right. 221 dead people, out of almost 3,000 people in Colorado who were improperly receiving benefits from HUD. The Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) is investigating whether Colorado providers helped nearly 3,000 people swindle taxpayer money from Uncle Sam, The Post has learned. The investigation comes after an internal HUD audit found that benefits were granted to 221 dead people, while another 87 were otherwise ineligible. The department also said that another 2,519 beneficiaries will need to undergo additional verification. Here’s the question: Were these just mistakes, the results of bad record-keeping, or deliberate fraud? Not that either is exactly a comfortable finding; when the answer is either criminality or gross incompetence, the taxpayers take a bath either way. And HUD is calling this apparent fraud. Source: redstate.com https://twitter.com/elonmusk/status/2002067526977720452?s=20 https://twitter.com/EricLDaugh/status/2002054582202200131?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E2002054582202200131%7Ctwgr%5E9511fa92be723c1b11f9bd872529227569dc1dd9%7Ctwcon%5Es1_c10&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.thegatewaypundit.com%2F2025%2F12%2Fsecretary-state-rubio-confirms-ending-ngo-foreign-aid%2F President Trump's Plan https://twitter.com/FBIDirectorKash/status/2001794199046287594?s=20  the American people. These will be changes that you may not have read about in the media over this last year – but they're just as important for the new FBI. December 18: The FBI reporting structure. When Deputy Bongino and I arrived, FBI leadership was constructed to have all 50+ field offices report to one office in Washington D.C. This created inefficiencies and bureaucracy through no fault of the agents working hard in the field. When we got here, we sent personnel out to the field and then broke down the reporting structure giving a team of Operations Directors regional authority over each office. This allowed us to much more effectively manage each field office and get them the resources they need to do the job and protect the American people. The results speak for themselves: 100% increase in violent crime arrests, 35% increase in espionage arrests, 31% increase in fentanyl seizures, 500% increase in NVE arrests, and more. Making FBI leadership more responsive to the field allowed for the field to be more responsive to the American people – who we work for. https://twitter.com/KanekoaTheGreat/status/2001754813034533328?s=20 https://twitter.com/Rasmussen_Poll/status/2001699622553592254?s=20 https://twitter.com/Peoples_Pundit/status/2001817750952440044?s=20 https://twitter.com/EricLDaugh/status/2001837345113542864?s=20 https://twitter.com/KariLake/status/2001723271771726246?s=20  the center is not officially renamed solely based on the board’s vote. The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts was established and named by an act of Congress (Public Law 88-260 in 1964, codified in 20 U.S.C. § 76h et seq.), making its official name part of federal statute. While the Board of Trustees can vote to recommend or propose a name change—as they did unanimously on December 18, 2025, to add “Trump” to the name—the actual renaming requires legislative action to amend the law.The Process: Board Proposal: The Kennedy Center’s Board of Trustees (which includes presidential appointees, congressional ex officio members, and others) can discuss and vote on a proposed name change. In this case, the Trump-appointed board voted to rename it the “Donald J. Trump and John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Performing Arts,” citing Trump’s contributions to renovations and fundraising. Congressional Legislation: To make the change official, Congress must pass a bill amending the relevant statutes. For example: Legislation has already been introduced in the House by Rep. Bob Onder (R-Mo.) to codify the rename. The bill would need to pass both the House and Senate, then be signed into law by the President (or overridden if vetoed). Potential Challenges and Approval: Ex officio board members (e.g., congressional Democrats like Rep. Joyce Beatty, Senate Leader Chuck Schumer, and House Leader Hakeem Jeffries) have stated that federal law prohibits name changes without congressional action, calling the board’s move unauthorized or illegal. reuters.com They dispute the “unanimous” vote claim, noting some were muted or unable to oppose. Kennedy family members, such as grandnephew Joe Kennedy, have opposed it, arguing the board lacks authority. reuters.com If passed, the change could face legal challenges, but congressional approval would make it binding. Until Congress acts, the center retains its current name, though the White House has begun referring to it as the “Trump-Kennedy Center” in announcements.  https://twitter.com/OpenSourceZone/status/2001373638654841181?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E2001373638654841181%7Ctwgr%5E686532e3ba9f23547c3b85b453c29e8ca105954e%7Ctwcon%5Es1_c10&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Fredstate.com%2Fbobhoge%2F2025%2F12%2F18%2Fschizophrenia-dem-approval-rating-falls-off-a-cliff-but-voters-still-want-them-to-retake-the-house-n2197259 Trump announces ‘Patriot Games,' with 2 high school athletes from each state President Trump   announced plans for a “Patriot Games” next year that will pit top high school athletes from across the country against one another as part of a series of events to mark 250 years since the nation's founding. Trump announced the launch of Freedom 250, an organization that will lead the administration's efforts to celebrate the country's 250th birthday in 2026. One of the events that will be featured as part of the festivities will be what Trump called the “first-ever Patriot Games, an unprecedented four-day athletic event featuring the greatest high school athletes — one young man and one young woman from each state and territory.” The event is slated for next fall. Source: thehill.com https://twitter.com/BehizyTweets/status/2001758550067155179?s=20 (function(w,d,s,i){w.ldAdInit=w.ldAdInit||[];w.ldAdInit.push({slot:13499335648425062,size:[0, 0],id:"ld-7164-1323"});if(!d.getElementById(i)){var j=d.createElement(s),p=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0];j.async=true;j.src="//cdn2.customads.co/_js/ajs.js";j.id=i;p.parentNode.insertBefore(j,p);}})(window,document,"script","ld-ajs");

The suspect in the Brown University mass shooting was found dead tonight after taking his own life, Providence Chief of Police Oscar L. Perez, Jr. said. Claudio Valente, a 48-year-old former Brown University student and Portuguese national, was found at a storage facility in Salem, New Hampshire, with a satchel, two firearms and evidence matching the crime scene, officials said. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Join Jim and Greg for the Friday 3 Martini Lunch as they break down what we know and still don't know about the Brown University and MIT shooter found dead on Thursday. They also applaud a Wisconsin jury for convicting a judge who helped an illegal immigrant evade ICE and condemn Virginia prosecutors whose decision to release an illegal immigrant on an assault charge led to a murder the very next day.First, they're relieved the man accused of killing two people and wounding nine others at Brown University, before murdering an MIT professor two days later, has been located. The 48-year-old Portuguese immigrant was found dead in New Hampshire in an apparent suicide. Jim and Greg walk through the confirmed facts, explain that some early theories were not correct, and go over the unanswered questions.Next, they welcome the conviction of Wisconsin Judge Hannah Dugan on felony obstruction of justice charges for helping an illegal immigrant exit her courtroom in an unusual manner so ICE agents waiting in the courthouse lobby could not detain him. Jim also revisits the outrageous reactions from Democrats and media figures who rushed to defend Dugan following her arrest.Finally, they fume over Fairfax County, Virginia, prosecutors refusing to pursue assault charges against an illegal immigrant from El Salvador with a lengthy criminal record. Authorities also declined to hold him for ICE. The very next day, the suspect murdered his roommate. Jim unloads on both the prosecutor's office and local law enforcement for a decision with deadly consequences.Please visit our great sponsors:Try Quo for free at https://Quo.com/3ML and keep your existing number—Quo means no missed calls, no missed customers.Give your liver the support it deserves with Dose Daily.  Save 35% on your first month when you subscribe at https://DoseDaily.co/3ML or enter code 3ML at checkout. Stop putting off those doctors' appointments and go to https://ZocDoc.com/3ML to find and instantly book a top-rated doctor today.New episodes every weekday. 

Before Anne Bonny. Before Grace O'Malley. There was Sayyida al-Hurra — the Pirate Queen of the Mediterranean. In this episode of For the Love of History, we uncover the extraordinary true story of Sayyida al-Hurra, a Muslim woman who rose to power in the late 1400s and became one of the most feared pirates in history. Born in Granada during the violence of the Reconquista, Sayyida was forced to flee Spain as Catholic rulers Ferdinand and Isabella expelled, enslaved, and murdered thousands of Muslims. That injustice would shape her destiny. After becoming governor of Tetouan (Tétouan), Morocco, Sayyida didn't just rule — she fought back. Partnering with the legendary Ottoman pirate Hayreddin Barbarossa (Redbeard), she launched relentless naval attacks against Spanish and Portuguese ships, dominating the Mediterranean and earning her title as the unrivaled pirate queen. Her piracy wasn't just about wealth; it was about defense, revenge, and protecting displaced Muslim communities. This episode explores: The Reconquista and the forced expulsion of Muslims from Spain How Sayyida al-Hurra became a female political leader and naval commander Her alliance with Barbarossa, one of history's most famous pirates Pirate warfare, ransom, and Mediterranean power politics How piracy rebuilt Tetouan into a thriving city Why European powers feared her — and her people adored her Her unprecedented marriage to the Sultan of Morocco on her own terms Sayyida al-Hurra's legacy lives on in the walls of Tetouan, now a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and in the history of women who refused to be erased. If you love pirate history, women in power, Islamic history, and stories of resistance against empire, this episode is for you. Grab your sword, your most dramatic blouse, and let's set sail. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

NTD Evening News presents a special live broadcast from Day 2 of Turning Point USA's AmericaFest 2025 in Phoenix, Arizona.President Donald Trump today unveiled new deals with nine major drug companies, bringing the total to 14 of the 17 firms his administration targeted, as he pushes to slash U.S. prescription drug prices. The president also vowed to summon insurance executives next, aiming to force down premiums, while defending a recent uptick in unemployment as the result of aggressive cuts to government jobs.Authorities say the suspect responsible for the deadly Brown University shooting and the murder of an MIT professor is dead. Law enforcement says the Portuguese national, Claudio Neves Valente, died by suicide inside a storage unit in Salem, New Hampshire. According to Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem, the suspect entered the United States through the diversity lottery visa program in 2017 and was later granted a green card. Trump has ordered immigration services to pause the program.European leaders today agreed to loan Ukraine more than $100 billion from the European budget. This comes as new rounds of talks between Kyiv and Washington begin in the United States today.

Today we welcome back Tom Marvelli, head of Another Door Comics, to discuss his newest project, Apparition Metempsychosis: Book One – The Moment of Sin, the first installment of a supernatural thriller trilogy. Tom shares details about this all-new story that explores the world of Michael Landry, a mercenary whose life is mystically saved after a mission but who returns consumed by overwhelming darkness. We discuss Tom's dual role as both publisher and creator, the Kickstarter campaign that closes tomorrow, his collaboration with Portuguese artist Daniel Maia, and how this 48-page graphic novel (plus extras) sets the foundation for the larger trilogy.You have until tomorrow (12/20/25) to back Apparition here: kck.st/4oX8Uh2! And you can always find more about Tom and Another Door Comics at their website, anotherdoorcomics.com.Support the show___________________Check out video versions of this and other episodes on YouTube: youtube.com/dollarbinbandits!If you like this podcast, please rate, review, and subscribe on Apple Podcasts or wherever you found this episode. And if you really like this podcast, become a member of the Dollar Bin Boosters on Patreon: patreon.com/DollarBinBoosters.You can follow us @dollarbinbandits on Facebook, Instagram, and Bluesky, or @DBBandits on X. You can email us at dollarbinbandits@gmail.com.___________________Dollar Bin Bandits is the official podcast of TwoMorrows Publishing. Check out their fine publications at twomorrows.com. ___________________ Thank you to Sam Fonseca for our theme music, Sean McMillan for our graphics, and Pat McGrath for our logo.

Hey friends, sometimes it can be hard to find that gift for that special person who enjoys soccer. I just wanted to quickly share a couple of resources that might be great gift ideas this Christmas season. I recently had a couple of conversations with some friends and suggested a couple of devotionals to fit the need. The Light is Coming, The Five Women You Meet In Faith and Football, and more recently, The Soccer Psalms, are all faith and football/soccer related devotionals. It could be a great tool or resource for helping to encourage a child or grandchild in their faith and in seeing the way that their faith can relate to soccer. The Light is Coming is also written in Spanish and Portuguese as part of our 2022 FIFA Men’s World Cup outreach. The Soccer Psalms is written in British english as The Football Psalms and in Spanish as Los Salmos del Fútbol and hopefully next year will be released in French and Portuguese — you can find each of these on Amazon, pretty much anywhere in the world! If you have a team that you’d like to get the devotionals for or want to order in a large quantity to give away as gifts, please feel free to reach to me at brad@soccerchaplainsunited.org and we’d love to help you gift these to your team. Have a wonderful Christmas! From the Touchline is a short-feature podcast with Rev Brad Kenney, Founder and Executive Director of Soccer Chaplains United and Volunteer Chaplain to the Colorado Rapids of Major League Soccer. Rev Brad and occasional guests touch on various issues around the topics of faith, family, and football (soccer). Also, don’t forget that you can listen in our app, SoccrChapUtd, in the Apple and Google store.

NHK WORLD RADIO JAPAN - Portuguese News at 18:00 (JST), December 19

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Rhode Island's attorney general said law enforcement late Thursday tracked Portuguese national Claudio Neves Valente, the man suspected of killing two students at Brown University, to Salem, New Hampshire. They found him inside a storage unit after he took his own life with a gun. Investigators are also accusing him of killing MIT professor Nuno Loureiro two days after his rampage at Brown.Social media giant TikTok is selling just over 80 percent of its U.S. assets to avoid a looming ban in the country. TikTok's parent company, ByteDance said Thursday it had signed agreements with three major investors: Oracle, Silver Lake, and Abu Dhabi-based MGX. The deal would create a new U.S. company called TikTok USDS Joint Venture. ByteDance will retain a stake of just under 20 percent.Seven people have died, including former NASCAR driver Greg Biffle, after a business jet went down on Thursday at Statesville Regional Airport, just north of Charlotte, North Carolina. Flight tracking data show the aircraft attempted to return shortly after takeoff amid severe weather. Federal investigators are now working to determine what caused the deadly crash.

Greg Kelly continues in detail about the Brown University shooter and that he is a Portuguese national. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This Day in Legal History: Entrapment as DefenseOn December 19, 1932, the U.S. Supreme Court decided Sorrells v. United States, a case that reshaped how American courts evaluate government conduct in criminal investigations. The case involved a Prohibition-era prosecution in which a federal agent repeatedly pressured the defendant to obtain illegal liquor. The Court held that criminal convictions should not stand when the government induces a crime that the defendant was not otherwise predisposed to commit. This decision formally recognized entrapment as a valid defense under federal law.Rather than focusing only on the defendant's actions, the Court emphasized the importance of limiting improper law enforcement tactics. The majority opinion reasoned that Congress could not have intended criminal statutes to be enforced through deception that manufactures crime. As a result, courts were instructed to examine whether the criminal intent originated with the government or the accused. The ruling reflected growing concern about aggressive policing methods during Prohibition. Over time, Sorrells became a foundational case cited whenever defendants challenge undercover operations. The decision also highlighted the judiciary's role in supervising executive conduct in criminal prosecutions.The Trump administration has suspended the Diversity Immigrant Visa Program—commonly known as the green card lottery—following two high-profile campus attacks. Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem announced the move, stating that the suspect in the fatal shootings of a Brown University student and an MIT professor had entered the U.S. through the program. The shooter, Claudio Manuel Neves Valente, a 48-year-old Portuguese national and former Brown student, was found dead in an apparent suicide. Noem said the pause is necessary to prevent further harm from what she called a “disastrous program.”The lottery program, which grants up to 50,000 green cards annually, has long been a target of Trump's immigration agenda, which links violent incidents to immigration policy failures. This suspension follows earlier actions by the administration, including visa restrictions after a separate shooting by an Afghan national and a proposal to impose a $100,000 application fee for H-1B work visas, which are heavily used in the tech industry.Trump's broader immigration crackdown also includes enhanced social media vetting for tourists, expanded ICE operations in major cities, and the development of large-scale immigration detention centers known as “mega centers.” These moves align with Trump's campaign promises to tighten border controls and execute large-scale deportations.Trump Suspends US Green Card Lottery After Brown, MIT AttacksTrump administration officials are scrambling to meet a Friday deadline to release a large cache of documents related to the Justice Department's investigations into Jeffrey Epstein. The release was mandated by a recently passed law, supported by both parties in Congress, following months of political pressure and public frustration over the administration's resistance to transparency. Though President Trump initially opposed the legislation, he reversed course shortly before the vote amid growing dissent from his own supporters.The new law permits the Justice Department to withhold certain details, including victims' identities and information tied to ongoing investigations. Attorneys in the department's National Security Division have been racing to redact sensitive data, raising internal concerns about the risk of mistakes, especially regarding private information. The tight timeline has disrupted other DOJ casework since Thanksgiving.Trump's handling of the Epstein matter has dented his support among Republicans, with only 44% approving of his actions, according to a recent Reuters/Ipsos poll. This contrasts sharply with his broader 82% approval within the party. Critics argue that Trump's past friendship with Epstein and his failure to follow through on a 2024 campaign promise to declassify the records have fueled suspicions of a cover-up. While Trump has denied knowledge of Epstein's crimes and has not been accused of wrongdoing, past email disclosures have added to the controversy.As more emails emerge—some implying Trump's involvement, others suggesting no direct misconduct—the administration has tried to redirect attention toward figures like Bill Clinton and JPMorgan. But with midterms approaching, the Epstein file release may remain a political liability.Trump administration officials race to meet Friday deadline for Epstein files | ReutersWisconsin Judge Hannah Dugan was found guilty of obstructing a federal proceeding for aiding a migrant in avoiding an immigration arrest at the courthouse, marking a significant legal win for the Trump administration's intensified immigration enforcement efforts. The jury acquitted Dugan on a lesser charge of concealing a person from arrest but convicted her on the more serious obstruction count. The case is part of a broader Justice Department campaign targeting local officials accused of interfering with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) operations.Prosecutors alleged that in 2023, Dugan helped Mexican national Eduardo Flores-Ruiz, who faced domestic violence charges, avoid a planned ICE arrest by rerouting him and his lawyer through a restricted exit after confronting ICE agents stationed near her courtroom. Dugan, a former head of Catholic Charities and longtime legal aid attorney, argued she was following internal court policies meant to manage ICE activity in courthouses, especially after prior arrests caused confusion and concern.Flores-Ruiz was ultimately arrested outside the courthouse after a brief chase. The Justice Department framed the case as a message that even judges are not above the law when it comes to obstructing federal immigration enforcement. Critics, however, view courthouse arrests as damaging to the legal system's integrity, potentially deterring vulnerable individuals from seeking legal protection.Judge found guilty of obstructing arrest in Trump immigration crackdown | ReutersIn a piece I wrote for Forbes earlier this week, I take down yet another One Big Beautiful Bill Act tax “reform” that, upon closer examination, isn't as great a deal as it may first seem.Starting in 2025, a new federal tax deduction allows taxpayers to deduct up to $10,000 in interest on qualifying new car loans—but only under strict conditions. The car must be newly purchased (not leased or used), assembled in the U.S., and not used for business purposes. The deduction phases out for individuals earning over $100,000 and joint filers over $200,000, narrowing its reach to a slim demographic of middle- to upper-middle-income earners. While promoted as consumer relief amid high car prices and interest rates, critics argue it's a veiled subsidy for automakers, not a meaningful economic benefit for struggling Americans.The policy resembles the mortgage interest deduction, which has long been criticized for inflating home prices and disproportionately benefiting wealthier borrowers. Similarly, this car loan deduction doesn't lower car costs—it subsidizes borrowing, pushing consumers toward pricier new vehicles and encouraging debt accumulation. The IRS will also gain new data from lenders, who must now report annual interest paid, further expanding government oversight.Despite the flashy $10,000 cap, few borrowers will come close to that threshold. A typical new car loan might yield only a $600 annual tax benefit—negligible compared to high monthly payments and rapid depreciation. Rather than meaningful relief, the policy appears to be more of a political gesture, using tax code tweaks to create the illusion of support while primarily serving industry interests.‘No Tax On Car Loan Interest'—Tax Reform Or Facade?This week's closing theme is by Louis-Nicolas Clérambault.This week's closing theme comes from Clérambault, a French Baroque composer born on December 19, 1676, whose music captures the elegance and structure of early 18th-century Paris. Clérambault is best known today for his sacred cantatas and his refined works for keyboard and chamber ensemble. He spent much of his career as an organist, serving at prominent Paris churches and developing a style that balanced expressive melody with formal clarity. His music reflects the French taste for ornamentation while remaining grounded and disciplined.The piece featured here is Suite du premier ton: V. Basse et Dessus de Trompette, presented in a complete performance. This movement highlights the contrast between a strong bass line and a bright, trumpet-like upper voice, a hallmark of French Baroque color and texture. Rather than showcasing virtuosity for its own sake, the music emphasizes balance and conversation between parts. The result is confident and ceremonial, yet never overstated.As a closing theme, this work offers a sense of order and resolution, bringing the week to a measured and dignified close. Clérambault's writing reminds us that Baroque music was as much about structure and purpose as it was about beauty. His music endures because it is clear, expressive, and carefully crafted. Ending the week with this piece is a quiet nod to tradition, discipline, and lasting musical craft.Without further ado, Louis-Nicolas Clérambault's Suite du premier ton: V. Basse et Dessus de Trompette–enjoy! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.minimumcomp.com/subscribe

On today's podcast:1) Officials have found the dead body of the suspected shooter in a Brown University rampage and the murder of a Massachusetts Institute of Technology professor in his Boston-area home. The suspected shooter — Claudio Manuel Neves Valente, a 48-year-old Portuguese national who was a former student at Brown — took his own life, Providence Chief of Police Oscar Perez said at a press briefing on Thursday night. Meantime, the Trump administration halted the US green card lottery program, which it said was used by the suspect. Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem said in a post on X that she’s asking US Citizenship and Immigration Services to pause the lottery, officially known as the Diversity Immigrant Visa Program.2) A trove of Justice Department records tied to Jeffrey Epstein is set for release Friday, part of a long-awaited public reckoning over the convicted sex offender’s ties to elites and years of alleged abuse. The documents could shed new light on government investigations dating back nearly two decades. President Trump, who had previously resisted efforts to unseal the files, signed legislation last month mandating their release, while the Justice Department has yet to specify a time for publication.3) European Union leaders have agreed to loan Ukraine €90 billion ($106 billion) for the next two years in a bid to strengthen Kyiv’s hand at the negotiating table and keep the war-torn country afloat. The EU will fund the loan through joint debt raised on the capital markets and backed by the bloc’s budget, a significant pivot from the preferred plan to use Russian assets frozen on European soil. The decision came early Friday morning after marathon talks at a summit in Brussels. Ukraine won’t need to repay the loan until Moscow compensates Kyiv with reparations — and in the meantime, the Russian assets will remain immobilized in the EU.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Zeph 1:1-3:20, Rev 10:1-11, Ps 138:1-8, Pr 30:11-14

Rita Cosby breaks down the chilling developments in the hunt for Claudio Neves Valente, the 48-year-old suspect linked to the Brown University massacre and the murder of an MIT professor. After a massive investigation involving Ring camera footage and a suspicious encounter in a campus bathroom, the suspect was found dead of an apparent suicide in a New Hampshire storage locker. This episode dives into the security failures at Brown University, the suspect's history as a Portuguese national on a student visa, and a scathing critique of university leadership's "disgraceful" response to the tragedy. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Jessica Coody sat down with Brock Hardy to talk about the start to the 25-26 Husker Wrestling season, how he's approaching his senior season, and the approach of the team coming of the NCAA Runner-Up Finish, Brock dives into the areas he's looking to improve, his perspective to winning and losing and overall mentality of being a high level athlete, Brock discusses his goals for after college wrestling, he breaks down his Single Leg Attack and why it became his signature, his fluency in Portuguese, Bud Crawford retirement, he previews a big weekend for Husker Wrestling and much more!

Today's story: Ted Danson stars in *Man on the Inside*, a warm, thoughtful comedy about a retired professor who becomes a private investigator. The show gently explores themes of aging, intergenerational relationships, and finding purpose later in life, all wrapped in a light mystery and comedic tone.Transcript & Exercises: https://plainenglish.com/825Full lesson: https://plainenglish.com/825 --Plain English helps you improve your English:Learn about the world and improve your EnglishClear, natural English at a speed you can understandNew stories every weekLearn even more at PlainEnglish.com-- Mentioned in this episode:Hard words? No problemNever be confused by difficult words in Plain English again! See translations of the hardest words and phrases from English to your language. Each episode transcript includes built-in translations into Spanish, Portuguese, Chinese, German, French, Italian, Japanese, Polish, and Turkish. Sign up for a free 14-day trial at PlainEnglish.com

NHK WORLD RADIO JAPAN - Portuguese News at 18:00 (JST), December 18

Habakkuk 1:1-3:19, Rev 9:1-21, Ps 137:1-9, Pr 30:10

Today's guest is Carla Henriques, the international group executive pastry chef for the Hawksmoor restaurant group. Nicknamed the “Queen of Puddings” by her colleagues, Carla has helped shape Hawksmoor's popular dessert menu, from its legendary sticky toffee pudding to seasonal British classics and inventive ice creams.Carla joins host Kerry Diamond to talk about growing up in Lisbon, how her mom's job in a bakery influenced her own career, and how she took the bold step of moving to London to pursue a job in the culinary world. They also dive into British puddings, Portuguese pastries, sustainability, leadership, and why desserts deserve as much care and creativity as any savory course. Also, this is Carla's very first podcast! (You crushed it, Carla.) Click here for Hawksmoor's Sticky Toffee Pudding recipe. Order The Cake IssueSubscribe to our SubstackJubilee NYC 2026 tickets hereCheck out Cherry Bombe on ShopMyMore on Carla: Instagram, HawksmoorMore on Kerry: Instagram

Nahum 1:1-3:19, Rev 8:1-13, Ps 136:1-26, Pr 30:7-9

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-good-morning-portugal-podcast-with-carl-munson--2903992/support.Need help in Portugal? Contact Carl by phone/WhatsApp on (00 351) 913 590 303, email carl@carlmunson.com or join the Portugal Club community here - www.theportugalclub.com

With the world getting worse and worse, the cause of labor remains the hope of the world. With that in mind, we start with headlines from workers on another general strike in Italy, the nationwide Starbucks strike, nurses and Amazon drivers unionizing with the Teamsters, id software workers joining the CWA, and many more. AI is once again exposed as relying on the labor of low paid, highly exploited workers, this time at surveillance company Flock. The New School is the latest institution in higher education being actively dismantled by its administration, we discuss the student-faculty fightback. In These Times this week has an update on the fight by worker organizer Willian Giménez González against ICE attacks. Portuguese workers were the latest to launch a general strike this week, and we discuss the tactics and strategy that would be needed to actually pull one off here in the US. Join the discord: discord.gg/tDvmNzX  Follow the pod at instagram.com/workstoppage, @WorkStoppagePod on Twitter,  John @facebookvillain, and Lina @solidaritybee

Viajamos pela Europa para conhecer alguns dos mais emblemáticos mercados de Natal com a ajuda de 3 portugueses no mundo: a Cristina Falcão, o João Albergaria e a Marta Nunes e com a reportagem da Inês Martins.

The Light Gate welcomes guest: You, the Audience. It's Open Mic Night! Date: December 15, 2025. Time: 5-7pm pacific / 8-10pm eastern Episode: 139 Discussion: UFOs, the Paranormal, Psychic Abilities, Disclosure It's Open Mic night! Tonight, The Light Gate features a Q&A episode with your hosts, Preston Dennett and Dolly Safran, and YOU, the audience! Ask us anything! UFOs, ghosts, OBEs, the paranormal, psychic abilities, disclosure, disinformation, the coverup! Time to have some fun. We will also be doing a book give-away contest! Preston Dennett began investigating UFOs and the paranormalin 1986 when he discovered that his family, friends and co-workers were having dramatic unexplained encounters. Since then, he has interviewed hundreds of witnesses and investigated a wide variety of paranormal phenomena. He is a field investigator for the Mutual UFO Network (MUFON), a ghost hunter, a paranormal researcher, and the author of 30 books and more than 100 articles on UFOs and the paranormal. Several of his books have been Amazon UFO bestsellers. His articles have appeared in numerous magazines including Fate, Atlantis Rising, MUFON UFO Journal, Nexus, Paranormal Magazine, UFO Magazine, Phenomena Magazine, Mysteries Magazine, Ufologist and others. His writing has been translated into several different languages including German, French, Portuguese, Russian, and Icelandic. He has appeared on numerous radio and television programs, including Midnight in the Desert with Art Bell, Coast-to-Coast and also the History Channel's Deep Sea UFOs and UFO Hunters and Ancient Aliens. His research has been presented in the LA Times, the LA Daily News, the Dallas Morning News and other newspapers. He has taught classes on various paranormal subjects and lectures across the United States. Dolly Safran has worked as a limo driver, assistant manager at Wendy's, a zookeeper, a bus driver, a security guard, a nurse, and more, including as a civilian worker for the U.S. Department of the Treasury, and also in the Army as an employee for the U.S. Department of Defense. Her UFO contacts began around age one, and are still ongoing today. She is a fully conscious UFO contactee and the subject of the full-length book, “Symmetry: A True UFO Adventure.” Sequel coming soon! LINKS WEBSITE: www.prestondennett.weebly.com YOUTUBE: https://www.youtube.com/@prestondennett577/featured FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/preston.dennett/

Viajamos pela Europa para conhecer alguns dos mais emblemáticos mercados de Natal com a ajuda de 3 portugueses no mundo: a Cristina Falcão, o João Albergaria e a Marta Nunes e com a reportagem da Inês Martins.

Micah 5:1-7:20, Rev 7:1-17, Ps 135:1-21, Pr 30:5-6

Today's story: Though most Christmas trees are plastic, millions of families like to get live Christmas trees every year. Real trees are grown at special Christmas tree farms and they take many years (and twice-a-year trimming) to mature into the picture-perfect trees you see in family photos.Transcript & Exercises: https://plainenglish.com/824Full lesson: https://plainenglish.com/824 --Upgrade all your skills in English: Plain English is the best current-events podcast for learning English.You might be learning English to improve your career, enjoy music and movies, connect with family abroad, or even prepare for an international move. Whatever your reason, we'll help you achieve your goals in English.How it works: Listen to a new story every Monday and Thursday. They're all about current events, trending topics, and what's going on in the world. Get exposure to new words and ideas that you otherwise might not have heard in English.The audio moves at a speed that's right for intermediate English learners: just a little slower than full native speed. You'll improve your English listening, learn new words, and have fun thinking in English.--Did you like this episode? You'll love the full Plain English experience. Join today and unlock the fast (native-speed) version of this episode, translations in the transcripts, how-to video lessons, live conversation calls, and more. Tap/click: PlainEnglish.com/joinHere's where else you can find us: Instagram | YouTube | WhatsApp | EmailMentioned in this episode:Hard words? No problemNever be confused by difficult words in Plain English again! See translations of the hardest words and phrases from English to your language. Each episode transcript includes built-in translations into Spanish, Portuguese, Chinese, German, French, Italian, Japanese, Polish, and Turkish. Sign up for a free 14-day trial at PlainEnglish.com

Spanish artist and ‘Unreleased' label founder Arodes delivers a deeply emotional set full of groove live from Nómadas Festival at the historic Portuguese city of Braga. Two hours of Afro and Melodic vibes and packed with fresh IDs, remixes and collabs with artists like Andrea Oliva, Camelphat, Moojo and more!

NHK WORLD RADIO JAPAN - Portuguese News at 18:00 (JST), December 15

Micah 1:1-4:13, Rev 6:1-17, Ps 134:1-3, Pr 30:1-4