Podcasts about pretend

This week, Chad and Kelsey head to NYC for a fancy event, Kelsey gets to go to an SNL taping, and they both go to a Vikings game. Plus, trivia and great listener questions! Write into pretendproblemspodcast@gmail.com with your dating and relationship advice questions and we'll answer them on the show! Subscribe to the podcast, and give it a 5-star rating and review to help the show move up the charts. Video for the episodes is on Kelsey’s YouTube channel! Join our Patreon: https://patreon.com/PretendProblems Watch the episodes and subscribe here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC9UBPfi4B_j1Ua7xDOcyBnA See Kelsey on tour: https://punchup.live/kelseycook/tickets See Chad on tour: https://punchup.live/chaddaniels/tickets Watch Kelsey's special “Mark Your Territory” on YouTube: https://youtu.be/uYqWsDhWkkA?si=J9hgt5nKtMLxB1sj Watch Chad's special "Mixed Reviews" on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1kVr3zkz7E&t=663s Follow Kelsey on social media: @KelseyCookComedy Follow Chad on social media: @thatchaddaniels Theme Song cowritten by Matthew Facca and Alex Bent To get simple, online access to personalized, affordable care for ED, Hair Loss, Weight Loss, and more, visit Hims.com/PRETEND for your free online visit.

On PRETEND, we tell stories about people who build false identities and hide the truth in plain sight. This week, we are featuring a case that fits right into that world. It is the newest season of Dakota Spotlight, titled “Meanwhile in Mankato.” In 1965, an 18-year-old gas station attendant named Ray Dahm was murdered during an overnight shift at a rural Minnesota truck stop. The person who killed him was a clean-cut 17-year-old who looked harmless, the kind of kid no one would ever suspect. On the surface, it seemed simple. A robbery. A terrible act of violence. Case closed. But that was only the beginning. Reporter James Wolner later uncovered that the killer did not stay locked away for long. Within a few years, he was quietly back in the community, working around teenage girls who had no idea they were interacting with a convicted murderer. His past had been buried, ignored, or conveniently forgotten. “Meanwhile in Mankato” is a story about manipulation, vanished accountability, and the people who were left to carry the fallout of one man's lies. It is exactly the kind of story we look at on PRETEND, because it shows how someone can reinvent themselves while everyone else looks the other way. If you follow PRETEND, you will want to hear this one. It is sharp reporting, unsettling truth, and a reminder that the most dangerous story is often the one no one bothered to check. Subscribe to Dakota Spotlight on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/3ZqpK6FfXIvS35TUYjckd6?si=fe79cf9a61264247 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

We're so fckn back

In today's episode we draft things that we pretend to have an understanding of but don't, we talk about how Pops would be a great worker at Trader Joes, Danny tells the story of when he was fired from Orangetheory, we give our review on the movie Bugonia, answer lots of questions from the breadsticks, and more!! Be sure to tune in every Monday and Thursday for new episodes!

Are you ever going to text me?This episode is number 299.  That's a lot of episodes.Jason, Jim, and Joseph work their way through the best movies that take place in the woods.Get these MF'n snakes out of my MF'n bathroom!Sshhh! Pretend like you're asleep.Crime is the disease, and he's the cure.Joseph still has a neck injury from watching Hunger Games from the first row.Bear rape!Jim has a special set of skills.  He will impersonate anyone mentioned on the show.Jason and Joseph estimate their duration of living in the 1830s Canadian wilderness is less than fifteen minutes.Joseph refuses to dance like a monkey for Jason.Jason almost makes it to his 100th episode before getting his first pity vote.Will there ever be a "classic" podcast series?Which character used his sweat like Gillette?

See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Grab your Lip Smackers and your flat iron, because this week on RAM Pop Culture, we're cracking open our Teen Vogue archives and heading straight back to 2007. It's a full on glossy magazine sleepover as we rediscover the quizzes, cover girls, and chaos that defined an era. We take you through the “What Kind of Best Friend Are You?” quiz (are you a Selena, Blake, Zendaya, or Lindsay?), and of course play “Would You Rather: Teen Edition” We talk about the power of teen magazines in shaping our identities, political stances, and the performative perfection of the “It Girl,” and how every friendship in your teens felt like a cover story. From Juicy Couture tracksuits to the “Young Hollywood” issue, from Zac Efron prom fantasies to finding yourself in the MySpace age , it's our love letter to that formative, lip-gloss-sticky chapter of growing up. This magazine shaped us and Claire was even in it! Because at the end of the day… history is just gossip, especially when it's written in pink gel pen. RIP to a LEGENDARY magazine! Created and produced by Claire Donald and Tess Bellomo For more RAM, go ⁠here.⁠ Join our premium channel for 3 bonus eps a month ⁠here⁠ and save 15% when you buy annually! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Our Top 10 for today: #TheWaysWePretend

Every few generations, America forgets how to argue and starts to dance instead. This time the excuse is the 250th birthday — the Semiquincentennial, a word that sounds like it was cooked up by a government subcommittee. But behind the bureaucratic branding, something strange is happening. The same cultural class that once rolled its eyes at patriotism is now rediscovering flags, fireworks, and the word “Republic.” The same people who called the Founders colonizers are suddenly quoting them. It's as if the left decided to go on a national Rumspringa — to step outside its echo chamber and see how the rest of America actually lives.At first, this was just The Great Patriotic Heist — a marketing strategy meant to stop Trump from owning the 250th anniversary. Progressive elites thought they could perform patriotism without believing it, using flags as props and slogans like “defend democracy” as emotional camouflage. But America has a funny way of reshaping everyone who touches it. Pretend long enough, and the pretending starts to feel real. The Left wanted to rebrand patriotism; instead, patriotism is rebranding them.That's how the Default Republic wins — not through power or ideology, but through absorption. It doesn't conquer its critics; it invites them to dinner. It doesn't punish hypocrisy; it forgives it. It's the quiet, unbreakable America that exists between extremes — the one that works, pays taxes, cheers at Little League games, and thinks the country's still worth arguing about. It's not the cathedral or the revolution. It's the barbecue in between.The managerial class doesn't understand this because it was trained to see belonging as a system, not a feeling. They think patriotism is something you teach through messaging campaigns and moral supervision. But patriotism isn't pedagogy — it's muscle memory. It's the unselfconscious act of standing for something larger than yourself. It's what happens when belief outlasts irony.That's why the “new patriotism” the Left is trying to choreograph feels more like theater than conviction. It's carefully diverse, emotionally calibrated, algorithmically sincere. But America has always been a place where sincerity can't be faked. You can't focus-group affection. You can only live near it until it gets under your skin. The Left thought they were managing a narrative; the Republic knew it was hosting a conversion.And conversions are contagious. Once you've sung along to “God Bless America” at a minor league game, it's hard to go back to sneering at flags. Once you've seen ordinary people — plumbers, nurses, veterans — celebrate something together without cynicism, you start to suspect that the real rebellion isn't against the country but against despair itself.That's what makes the Default Republic undefeatable. It's not ideological. It's gravitational. Every attempt to overthrow it eventually gets absorbed — the Puritans became merchants, the rebels became bureaucrats, the hippies became consultants. The Republic doesn't fight revolutions; it metabolizes them.By the time America hits its 250th, that metabolism will have done its work again. The activists who came to police the parades will find themselves clapping along. The journalists covering “performative patriotism” will find themselves moved. And the country — messy, vulgar, generous — will go on doing what it does best: forgiving everyone for coming home late.The lesson isn't that America is perfect. It's that it's patient. The Republic doesn't need to win the argument; it only needs to outlast it.And when the fireworks burst in 2026, the think pieces will call it reconciliation, or narrative evolution, or managed healing. But it won't be any of that. It'll just be America doing what it always does — absorbing the noise, baptizing the cynics, and reminding everyone that you don't have to like the song to learn the chorus.Because in the end, belief here isn't something you think. It's something you sing.

We all do it. Well, except for Annie, who doesn't care. And Brad, who cares about everything. Okay, Ryan does it. So what are we supposed to pretend to care about?

Lords: * John * Kevin * https://www.youtube.com/@kevin_hainline Topics: * Asking for help / Dealing with the slightest criticism/suggestions/etc * Roger Rabbit and Marvel vs. Capcom were big deals. How long until multiverse & crossover shit is exciting again? * Update on media that makes me feel things vs. media that doesn't * "Bell's Theorem"", a poem that I wrote, and then, at a poetry reading someone suggested the next poem and it demonstrated how good poets are pretty amazing and I am not a good poet * https://docs.google.com/document/d/1CkNH-KlDCAMRNsI6hDZjlyvOpAgM2TsP8x-lIp5TeqQ/edit?usp=sharing * We're in a golden age of new official localizations and rereleases of old games (and why am I not playing them?!) Microtopics: * Some guy on the internet. * Transparent aluminum ukuleles. * Hurting your fingers because your ukulele action is too high. * Do you still call them cowboy chords when you play them on a ukulele? * An astronomer making a series of Youtube videos about Jurassic Park. * The history of Mr. DNA. * How much kids in the early 90s loved Jamaicans. * Solving a 30 year old Internet mystery. * Suing Michael Crichton to make him put you in the Jurassic Park acknowledgements section. * The Ancient DNA Study Group. * Ian Malcolm just saying a bunch of lines from James Gleick's "Chaos." * Going into slow motion to show all the Victorian era pickpocketing. * Asking an august astronomer to critique your work and squirming as he critiques your work. * Therapy-style processing via Topic Lords. * People who like being asked for help because it gives them an opportunity to help. * The German word for being a person. * Being so overly polite that people feel obligated to reassure you that you don't need to be so polite, which is a big pain. * After someone helps you, asking for clarification on whether they wanted to help or if they felt obligated. * How to save Jim a lot of time and effort. * Two people coming from the same gross Internet soup. (Not 4chan) * The friends you made on the Pokey the Penguin mailing list. * Swearing to kids these days that the internet was good once. * Finding the exact right gif for your animated profile picture. * Pretend socialization: it's still socialization. * Knowing a guy by his Internet handle for decades and suddenly having to call him his birth name. * When crossovers started being a thing. * The Supreme Court ruling that corporations are people, saying the stage for the world depicted in Bio Freaks for the N64. * Daffy and Donald playing rival pianos. * Detective Munch's cameo in Fortnite. * Konami Wai Wai World. * Vib Ribbon n Astro Bot. * Why am I on this show when I could be playing Vib Ribbon? * Burning episodes of Topic Lords to CD-R so you can play them in Vib Ribbon. * Extremely pixelated vector art. * The save the cat moment on Topic Lords. * Mind-blowing crossover media events where the mind-blowing part is how much they paid all the lawyers to negotiate the deal. * Why the indie game scene hadn't produced a League of Extraordinary Gentlemen with public domain characters like Robin Hood, Santa Claus, Mickey Mouse and Abraham Lincoln. * Reagan-Gorbachev. * Which president was kidnapped by ninjas. * Choosing to let the ninjas keep Ronald Reagan. * Ape Out: Get Back In There! * Pushing the left stick to lean and pushing the triggers to lift either foot. * Trying to play a video game in which you dislike the protagonist. * A guy whose defining trait is that he tries to get out of every conversation as quickly as possible. * Playing with the mismatch between what the player wants and what the player character wants. * Upsetting the apple cart of how video games work. * A minimap that takes up the top fifth of the screen but is nonfunctional until you unlock it halfway through the game. * Which Jurassic Park video game is most interesting and which is most fun. * Looking down at your cleavage to see your health meter. * Saying the secret word and screaming real loud. * A poem based on a physics thing. * Forgetting your ex girlfriend's face, along with all the state capitals. * Time pointing an arrow at your back, and you walk. * The New Physicality of Long-Distance Love. * Sending a poet up on the spaceship to drain buckets from downtown. * A poem written sometime between 1936 and 1992. * Off-Topic Lords, a place for people who shout answers at podcasts in grocery stores. * A collection of Double Dragon and Kunio-kun games. * Kid Dracula. * Mother 3's copyright nightmare. * Mario Paint on the Switch 2. * Who was the Terry that Chris Houlihan replaced in Nintendo World Cup? * Satellaview games ported to the Switch. * Batman Loves Him a Parallelogram. * Joining the discord for the best PicoSteveMo experience. * KevinHainlineOnYoutube.com * Naming a distant galaxy after yourself and other astronomers mocking you mercilessly.

TRDC S9 E34Speed is important, but what we will speak about here is what really brings it home and will help you succeed in this and any other industry.You need to win off the track just as much as on it.Enzo0:00 Intro1:39 If you haven't got all the money2:12 Douchbag3:03 Could I put your name forward?4:59 The personality that wins5:52 I avoid certain drivers6:45 The main goal here9:38 Pretend your the boss❤ THANK YOU SUBSCRIBERS ❤The TRDC community is tight. Your comments, likes, shares, questions and subscriptions keep this channel alive and I just want to thank you for being a part of this. -------------------------------------------------------♛ ENZO'S BOOKS  ♛If you want to read my books or listen to the Audiobooks then you can click below:The Warrior's Mind (Mental Training) https://amzn.to/3tKt0yfGet The Drive (Motorsport Sponsorship) https://amzn.to/3lrtmGU------------------------------------------------------More Links:The Race Driver Coach Website - http://www.theracedrivercoach.com/Spotify - https://spoti.fi/2WRyHth Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/enzomucci_ Facebook page - https://www.facebook.com/theracedrivercoach/ TikTok - https://vm.tiktok.com/ZSH6MgF4/ Soundcloud - https://soundcloud.com/enzomucci iTunes - https://apple.co/2KqCR9v --------------------------------------------------------Copyright Info: Music used in intro/outro was composed by Hustle Standard. Permission granted directly from Hustle Standard. View Hustle Standard and Never Gonna Stop song here - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJH5AsNr_nMWe ensure that all images and video used are all for educational purposes so fall within the Fair Use policy. Thank you to all contributors.#TRDCSHOW #racedriver #motorsport #enzomucci #drivercoach #f1coach #

“You become what you pretend to be, so be careful what you pretend to be.” — Jean-Paul SartreIn The Great Patriotic Heist, I argued that the American Left has begun performing patriotism — waving flags, quoting Jefferson, rediscovering “our Republic” — not from love of country but from narrative panic. The populist Right had taken ownership of rebellion, freedom, and 1776's mythic energy, leaving progressives with a choice: mock it or mimic it. They chose mimicry. My warning then was that performance can't last forever; it either collapses or becomes real.This episode asks: what happens if it becomes real — if the actors forget it started as theater?Sartre's “bad faith” applies perfectly here. It isn't lying; it's self-deception — performing a role so convincingly that you trap yourself inside it. America has done that for centuries. We pretended to be a land of liberty until the pretense began shaping reality. Pretending here is creative, even dangerous. So when the Left wraps itself in patriotic language — “No Kings,” “Our Republic,” flag emojis on bios — it isn't just PR. It's ontological trial and error: trying on belief until it fits.And maybe it will. That's America's trick — performance and belief blur until the act becomes identity. The Left may start by faking affection, but the repetition could harden into conviction. The question is what kind of nation that conviction would build.Think dialectically: thesis, antithesis, synthesis. The thesis was the curated moral order of the 2010s — technocratic, globalist, emotionally micromanaged. The antithesis was the populist revolt — a messy fusion of Left and Right embodied in Trumpism. For a brief, volatile moment, Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump spoke different dialects of the same rebellion: against expertise, against the soft tyranny of moral management. That was synthesis one — populism as raw authenticity, a revolt against hypocrisy dressed as virtue.But every revolution becomes self-aware. The movement that began as candor became theater. Its outrage hardened into ritual; its populism into fandom. The Right began mirroring the spectacle it loathed. And that's when the Left made its move. If authenticity couldn't sustain itself, it could be domesticated. Patriotism was rebranded for polite society. The institutions that once scorned the Founders began praising them again — provided the “work” never ends. Thus the rise of Progressive Patriotism: corporate, focus-grouped, inclusive, safe.It looks real but feels like simulation — an algorithm's impression of love of country. Yet Americans crave sincerity so badly that even counterfeit conviction sells. Pretend long enough, and it might stop being pretend.If “inclusive patriotism” becomes orthodoxy, it will dominate for a generation — until someone notices that enforced sincerity isn't sincerity. Then the rebellion resets. Each synthesis ossifies into a new establishment; each establishment breeds its own opposition. The next populists will reject all theater entirely. They won't wave flags or hashtags. They'll simply live differently.That's the American metabolism: we don't resolve contradictions; we absorb them. We act first, believe later. We fake it till we make it — or till it breaks us. Pretending isn't harmless; it's nation-building. When you play patriot long enough, you forge the country you deserve.So maybe this new performance will stick. Maybe the Left's flag-waving feels genuine by 2026. Maybe the fireworks and “inclusive Republic” sermons convince millions that the dream still lives. But belief engineered from above is belief with a leash. And when people start feeling the collar, they'll tear it off.That's America: not thesis or antithesis — perpetual rehearsal.A country pretending to be free, and somehow, staying that way.

“You become what you pretend to be, so be careful what you pretend to be.” — Jean-Paul SartreIn The Great Patriotic Heist, I argued that the American Left has begun performing patriotism — not feeling it, performing it. The same institutions that once mocked the flag now wrap themselves in it, speaking solemnly about “our Republic” and “the unfinished promise of 1776.” It's not rediscovered affection — it's narrative survival. The populist Right took the flag hostage, so the only way to reclaim it was to start waving their own. My warning then was simple: performance has a half-life. It either collapses or becomes real.This episode is about what happens if it becomes real — if people pretending to love America start actually loving it. Here, pretending isn't lying — it's creation. We perform ideals until they exist. We said “all men are created equal” long before we believed it, and through repetition made it partly true. America evolves not through honesty but rehearsal.Sartre called it “bad faith.” Not hypocrisy, but self-entrapment — when you play a role so long you forget it's a choice. America's moral managers — experts, editors, educators — now perform patriotism because they know you can't govern people who think you hate their country. But repetition changes people. Roles have gravity. Pretending shapes the pretender.What happens when actors start believing their own script? When “freedom,” “democracy,” and “the Republic” stop being props and start being convictions again? Maybe the costume fuses to the skin. Maybe the same Left that once saw America as villain becomes its strictest guardian. That fusion could create something new — not the populist Right's raw nationalism nor the technocratic Left's therapy-state, but a hybrid: moral nationalism wrapped in empathy, managed through control.That's the Hegelian rhythm — thesis, antithesis, synthesis. The thesis was neoliberal order: global, expert, moralized. The antithesis was populism — Left and Right fusing in rebellion. For a moment, Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump spoke the same language of revolt: different grammar, same fury. That was synthesis one — populism as authenticity, revolt against curated virtue.But populism became self-aware. Its anger turned ritual, its authenticity cosplay. MAGA became fandom. Once authenticity becomes aesthetic, the establishment knows how to sell it back. Enter synthesis two: Progressive Patriotism — focus-grouped, diverse, emotionally ergonomic. Patriotism as lifestyle brand.It looks real, sounds real, even feels real — but it's patriotic the way a corporate mission statement is heartfelt. Still, America's hunger for sincerity is so deep even simulation can work. If enough people perform belief, it becomes belief.Picture 2026 — the 250th anniversary. “America 250” events: diverse, polished, professional. Fireworks with spoken-word poetry. Speeches about freedom delivered like mindfulness apps. It'll be immaculate — and in some way, it might succeed. Millions will feel pride, gratitude, even tears. The performance may cross into faith.And when belief hardens, rebellion returns. Every orthodoxy breeds heresy. Somewhere, a younger generation is already rolling its eyes at both MAGA's nostalgia and the Left's choreography. They'll want danger, not safety; truth, not optics. Their patriotism, if it exists, will be quiet, personal, unbranded.That's the American cycle: imitation becomes belief, belief institution, and institutions rebellion's target. Each generation pretends until the mask becomes its face — then rips it off.Maybe progressive patriotism sticks. Maybe the country becomes gentler, managerial, moralistic — a nation of caretakers with flags. But someone will always stand up, roll their eyes, and say “enough.”Because America's soul belongs to the unmanageable — the ones who stop pretending.And that, in the end, was Sartre's warning: the danger isn't pretending. It's when the pretending works.

Alien abductions.Hundreds of people say it's happened to them.They're not looking for fame or attention.Some keep it a secret...haunted by memories they can't explain. In Day 3 of PRETEND's Halloween Marathon, we meet Dr. John Mack, a Pulitzer Prize–winning Harvard psychiatrist who risked his reputation to study these so-called abductees. Using hypnosis and relaxation techniques, Mack tried to uncover whether these encounters were dreams, delusions, or something far stranger. Why would a man of science devote his life to stories most people laugh off? And what if the people he studied weren't crazy at all? This episode is part of a larger series I produced on hypnosis. Check out the rest of the series. Season 8 of PRETEND: https://open.spotify.com/episode/05forE4OuW9zgsI9OZ7XHy?si=71eca84e0f5843ba Listen ad-free on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/collection/1813212 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Occasionally at the beginning of the show, the announcer tells of an award for the show, or reads a letter of praise. A few weeks ago on the podcast, a…

Hey, it's Javier. Quick update: Meghan Walsh, the subject of my Cracks in the Fandom series, has filed copyright complaints on every major platform. As a result, Spotify and Patreon have temporarily taken down the series. My attorneys are already on it, and we expect everything to be restored soon. In the meantime, it's Halloween weekend — so let's have some fun. I'm bringing back some of my favorite spooky episodes from the PRETEND archives. Today's story? Real Vampires. Yeah, real ones. It's one of my all-time favorites, and honestly, there's no better time of year to revisit it. Stick around... I'll be dropping more eerie episodes all weekend long. For now, let's press play on The Real Vampires. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

This week, Chad and Kelsey's Sleep Number bed arrives, Kelsey gets her ears pierced, and she visits the Field Museum in Chicago to see dinosaur fossils while reading Jurassic Park at the same time. Plus, trivia and some great listener emails including someone with Feng Shui questions, a psychic follow up, and someone looking for advice on grief. Write into pretendproblemspodcast@gmail.com with your dating and relationship advice questions and we'll answer them on the show! Subscribe to the podcast, and give it a 5-star rating and review to help the show move up the charts. Video for the episodes is on Kelsey’s YouTube channel! Join our Patreon: https://patreon.com/PretendProblems Watch the episodes and subscribe here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC9UBPfi4B_j1Ua7xDOcyBnA See Kelsey on tour: https://punchup.live/kelseycook/tickets See Chad on tour: https://punchup.live/chaddaniels/tickets Watch Kelsey's special “Mark Your Territory” on YouTube: https://youtu.be/uYqWsDhWkkA?si=J9hgt5nKtMLxB1sj Watch Chad's special "Mixed Reviews" on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1kVr3zkz7E&t=663s Follow Kelsey on social media: @KelseyCookComedy Follow Chad on social media: @thatchaddaniels Theme Song cowritten by Matthew Facca and Alex Bent This episode is brought to you by Hims! To get simple, online access to personalized, affordable care for ED, Hair Loss, Weight Loss, and more, visit Hims.com/PRETEND. That’s Hims.com/PRETEND for your free online visit.

On this episode of The Pretend GM, I was joined by Tera Roberts to discuss her unique perspective on fantasy football and how she went from fan to analyst with such great success. #fantasyfootball #fantasyfootballpodcast Subscribe to the Podcast: - Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/footballguys-fantasy-football-show/id1615143637 - Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/5Vx0kjA5n4d4wdMspVmoKo?si=c7e15989ff8d4f48 Follow Alfredo Brown on Socials: - Twitter: https://x.com/AlfredoABrown - Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/alfredoabrown.bsky.social - Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/alfredoabrown/ #fantasy football #dynastyfootball

The New Yorker's Michael Schulman joins Katey to talk about the narratives that are already driving this Oscar season, and the drama we expect to continue all the way until the big next. Then Tracy Letts discusses his role as a general in A House of Dynamite, how he juggles an incredibly busy career across screen and stage, and how his role in the new FX series The Lowdown became a homecoming. Prestige Junkie After Party subscribers can watch the full video version of this podcast. ⁠⁠⁠Subscribe today⁠⁠⁠ for just $5 a month.  ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Subscribe⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to the Prestige Junkie newsletter.  Follow Katey on ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Letterboxd⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.  ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Follow The Ankler. 

ITL dives into whether DeMeco Ryans truly tunes out the outside noise — or if he just says he does. Plus, what DeMeco's approach says about how he handles the business side of coaching, and today's QOTD: What's your least favorite noise or sound?

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 17 I Need A Bigger Bed? In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             Being dead is wonderful; you never get tired and you have all the time in the world to regret how you ended up this way      Yes, Rio," Mercy wiggled in even tighter, "you can annoy me whenever you want." I was starting to seriously work over Heaven's butthole when I caught Barbie Lynn move her lips over to Rio's ear. "You rock," Barbie Lynn whispered to my 'Bro'. Rio kept her eyes shut but grunted in disgust. She was a stone-cold pitiless bad-ass who cared about nothing and nobody, just ask her. "Are you putting your whole god-damn fist up my ass?" Heaven hissed. "That's my thumb, ya big baby," I quietly teased. We owed it to our bed buddies to keep the noise down as much as possible. "That's right, Big Daddy, tear my poor little hinny up," she pouted devilishly. She was on top so she had to press her tits hard against me to whisper in my ear. "Next time I want to be alone so you can treat me like your dog-bitch, press my face into a pillow to stifle my screams, and drill me deeper than you've ever reached before." "Are you trying to make me cum before I even get inside you?" I gasped. "Oh, God, no," Heaven squeaked. "Don't you dare, please," she begged. "You make me feel so good. I'm sorry I teased you. We can take it slow if you want." "If you want to make me happier, play with yourself and let me feel it," I breathed. Heaven struggled for words before giving up and grunting. Her hips shook as she accelerated her hand's manipulations of her cock, which rested tightly against my stomach. At the same time, I switched up my one thumb with three fingers in her rectum. Heaven gave a choked whimper as she took my intrusion tentatively, then pushed down even harder. As my bulbous head pressed past her sphincter, Heaven hiccupped and tears welled in her eyes. "I, I, did the calculations," she gulped. "If I, have sex with you, every twelve hours, my rectum will, adjust so sex, will be more, fun." "You figured this all out?" I teased. "Purely scientific, I swear," she grinned. "It is, not because, I want to, fuck you, all the time." "I respect you for your mind, Heaven, but this time I think you might be too close to the subject matter," I tickled her back. She took hold of my cock. "Too close to this," she gulped. I swiveled my hips back and forth, sending my cock deeper and deeper into Heaven. She eventually gave up any hopes of a coherent argument and curled herself onto my chest, panting. "Hello, Lover," I told her in near silence. "Thank you, my Bitch," she responded between kisses to the line where the jaw meets the throat. The rest of what either one of us wanted to say was lost as I rocked my hips up, propelling my cock even deeper into her bowels. Heaven clawed at my chest as her sexual tension ramped up. Eventually, our symmetry brought Heaven struggling to the end of her road. "Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend," she gurgled. "He's my Boyfriend!" she screamed. At least she didn't use my name, unless you counted the fact that I was the only boy on campus. "Oh, damn," Heaven gasped for air. "Thanks for bringing me back, Zane." We kissed passionately. "Thanks for the, attitude adjustment too." "Huh?" I wondered. I'd heard the term before but not from someone who regularly talked with Heaven. "Iona posted the slang," Heaven gasped-giggled. I shifted my head from the right side of Heaven's head to the left. My shock must have registered with Heaven, whose gaze went from my face to looking over her shoulder to the form of Gabrielle Black. Heaven scrambled off me and pulled the sheets tight. Shades of Gabrielle Black "We need to talk, Zane Braxton." I saw Gabrielle's lips move but I was pretty sure the words floated across the room without disturbing the ears of anyone around us. I gave her a nod, planted on Heaven a reassuring, full-on kiss, then quick-stepped over to a wardrobe and put on a robe. She followed me out, keeping a keen eye on me while mostly hanging in my blind spot. Vivian was sound asleep as we passed her. I took Gabrielle to the far corner of the Solarium, locating a remote control when we were close. Ms. Black gave me a fatally cold look as I punched in the code that would give us a dead zone electronically to talk in. "Surveillance," I held up the remote. She understood the implications. "I want to see more of your so-called gift with women." I had no doubt this was not a sexual come-on. I would have been a hell of a lot happier if it was; instead, it put me in a situation I knew very little about. "Strip," I requested, with as much calm as I could instill in my voice. Gabrielle gave me a lightning assessment, then started shedding her perpetually black outerwear and lingerie. When she finished, the words 'Hot Damn' came up a ton of times unbidden to my thoughts. I worked out regularly, took martial arts, and stretched whenever I could. I might as well have been a coach potato as far as Gabrielle was concerned. She wasn't bulky; rather, strong in the long muscles that counted more for strength and stamina. I still managed to have the courage to ask her to extend her arms and spread her legs. Hell, I even touched her ass, thigh, and caressed the right shoulder twice. When I finished up, I was before her once more. I leaned on the back of a chair and waited, I had taken five minutes, where in most cases it took seconds, but this woman's body wove deceptions like a champion. "Well?" she finally gave in to her curiosity before I gave in to my fear. "Well, I imagine the most important thing to you at this second is the wrists. I did spend some time in a high-pressure private academy in my formative years and I know the difference between horizontal and vertical. Horizontal cuts on the wrist are a cry for help, vertical show a real desire to die." "Now, I can't know for sure that you didn't make two attempts but you look like you're insanely intense, emphasis on the insane, so I guess some fucked up shit happened to you that made you damn sure the only answer was to check out permanently," I stated evenly. "What now?" she questioned me, her intonation utterly devoid of emotion or compassion. "I'd like to tell you what I tell every other woman I learn a secret about, that your past is your business and your business alone," I sighed. "But?" she prodded me. "Gabrielle, your body is a roadmap of pain, suffering, and death," I shrugged, "and there is no damn way you came to this school legally." Gabrielle studied me in a way that made an icy fist grasp my heart. "Of course, I am hardly a poster child for someone who does belong at FFU. Are you going to kill me now or do you want me to continue?" I inquired hopefully. "Mr. Braxton, Zane, the wiring in this place is sub-standard and clearly unauthorized. I would choke you unconscious, put you in the hot tub, then electrocute you," she informed me with the air of a professor describing the events of tenth century Anglo-Saxon England. "I will not do this right now because you are terrified of me, which shows a great deal of insight and intelligence, somewhat remarkable in someone so young," she added. "Okay. Something allowed you to slip past the Psych Evaluation to get into someone's military; I could put that down to being experience with the system plus being clever enough to fool the testers," I said. "Once inside, something fucked up your perception of authority, something not good. I figure you are obsessed with physical defense, bi-sexual, yet your sexual attitude toward me is one of contempt. Since you don't know me enough to hold me in contempt yet, you were abused by a man in authority over you," I delivered the bad news. Gabrielle did not respond. "This is total conjecture but it patches in with what comes later; you entered some kind of actual combat duty. You learned not only that you were good at killing but you liked it. It substituted for sexual release and that whole risk-pain thing you have kept until today. I count six bullet wounds, a knife wound on the back above the right kidney, and two things I guess are shrapnel wounds but I've never seen any before to compare," I added. "I imagine you got out of the regular service because the level of your medical care diminished for a while, then, Bang!, you got this expensive plastic surgery. You do okay for maybe three years, then you pick up that nick in your left ankle, followed by the shoulder getting done," I said. "No indications of why these two injuries?" she narrowed her eyes. "I'm going to go all James Bond on you. Gabrielle Black fell for somebody hard and I'm betting it was a woman. It is kind of frightening to think of what kind of psycho she was to lure you in and trap you," A light flickered in her eyes when I went down this path. "You guarded her, became very close to her as a parade of lovers passed through her life until she sucked you in." "One day you found yourself killing for her and I doubt you asked why. I doubt there was only one time but in the end, it was never enough. One night you came back and found this year's model on the payroll. Gabrielle Black is way too smart to wait for this to play out. You loved her but you liked living more, so you escaped before you were introduced to your employer's retirement plan," I grimaced. "You came back to the United States, your accent indicates time in France or Italy, and this job fell into your lap. Lancaster, Virginia is out of the way enough for you to hide in while close enough to several major cities for you to move around if you need to, so you edit your work record and hire on at an all-girls university," I finished. "What now?" "I don't kill you and Vivian. Making two deaths look like an accident would be incredibly difficult; murder-suicide would only make your female cohorts dig deeper and there are some serious advantages in staying here for me," she stated. Sensing my confusion, she clarified. "Vivian has been awake for some time observing us but I doubt she can hear what we are saying." Gabrielle finished redressing; she gave me a once-over. "My turn. What makes you hard? Seriously, you have been perpetually aroused since I've met you," she mused. "There is a bit of a list: fear, joy, sunlight, moonlight, sex, the impossibility of sex, I informed her. "I understand," Gabrielle cut me off. "Who are you going to tell?" "Christina Buchanan, Cordelia Dresden, and Dana Gorman." I decided that lying would do me worse than no good; I might get one or two lies past Gabrielle and this wasn't the time to waste one. "Good enough. But if there are repercussions from tonight, I will feel far less tolerant toward you," she made sure I understood. I was happy that this looked like a painless parting of the ways. "Thank you," I spoke to her retreating form. She looked over her shoulder questioningly. "For taking me seriously," I explained. She gave a curt nod, turned, and departed. Vivian pretended to be asleep when I returned to bed and I let her. It seemed like the rare sane thing for me to do. Say 'Lesbian Bikers' at your own peril.             Mankind is poison because we compromise our souls for the companionship of others   "Vivian, I'm going to take a shower," I whispered to Vivian. I was hovering over her from the back of the sofa-sleeper, asking permission to take my shower downstairs. She was laid out beneath me, her jersey bunched up around her breasts and her left thumb hooked into the band of her shorts and pushing them dangerously down. "Umm," she sighed, a little smile tilting her lips. "Honey, I need your permission to use the downstairs shower," I continued. I wisped across her lips with my own. Her smile blossomed into full-blown pleasure. "Okay, I'm getting up, I'm getting up," she moaned. Vivian slowly opened her eyes as she stretched and twisted her body to wakefulness. "Good morning, Zane," she yawned with this adorable little grin on her face. "You look beautiful," I complimented quietly. "Umm, thank you," she purred. "You look, Zane! What are you doing?" she bolted upright, barely missing a head-on-head collision. "I'm asking you permission to go down to the fifth floor and take a shower," I repeated. "Why didn't you simply sneak past me?" she propped herself up on her elbows. "I said I would wait on your decision, so I waited. Can I please, please do something," I pleaded, "before I go nuts?" "Umm, okay," Vivian said cautiously. I reached down to her midsection and she flinched so I held back. No word passed for several seconds so I resumed my journey to her pushed up sleeping jersey and slowly pulled it down until her stomach and crotch were covered. "Zane," Vivian sighed, "could you control your hormones for thirty minutes, when you are awake?" "I have to go now," I stood up, "because covering you up didn't make you any less attractive." "Zane," Vivian came off the sofa and followed me, "you should attempt to look at a woman as a fellow follower of Christ and less in terms of beautiful and ugly and you might be happier. Go take a shower." She's telling me this with an earnest warm face and finely sculpted legs that disappear right below the crotch into that billowing Dallas Cowboys shirt. "Go on and fuck the bitch," Rio growled as she traipsed by with Mercy's hand on her shoulder. Barbie Lynn came slowly limping behind. Barbie flashed me a grin and I raced to catch up. At the bottom of the stairs something occurred to me. "Hon, where is your towel?" I asked Barbie Lynn. She shot me an apologetic smile. I stepped behind Barbie Lynn, ran a hand along her hip to the curve of her stomach and kissed her on the neck. "Take mine; I'll catch up," I chuckled. I draped my towel over her shoulder and bounded up the stairs. At the top of the stairs I stumbled to a stop. Vivian had only then finished taking off her jersey and was holding it in her left hand. The bottom of the shirt scrapped the ground. Vivian looked at me, neither shocked, ashamed, nor outraged. Her breasts were freaking gorgeous, fully round, buoyant, and with a miniscule droop. Her pale blue panties left little to the imagination, her cunt lips clearly camel toed. "I apologize," I quickly spun away and raced to my sleep area. I grabbed a towel and headed straight for the stairs. "Zane, it is okay," Vivian called out. She'd covered her breasts and diaphragm with the jersey. "Huh?" "I don't mind; I know you didn't mean to see me so I'm not offended and I don't feel you went back on your word," she related with a sense of grace. I wasn't truly sure of what word I hadn't gone back on but she appeared happy. "Does that mean you can flash me your ta-ta's guilt free?" I asked hopefully. Vivian regarded me with amusement. "Zane, constantly being distracted by unbridled sexuality will not leave you content," she lectured me patiently. We regarded each other for some time. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" "If you are going to offer, could you come over here, turn around, bend over, grab your ankles and finally look past your thigh at me?" I cringed. She shook her head, regarded me once, then rolled her eyes. "I may not be able to save you but I'm not going to shove you down to damnation either," she stated firmly. "Do it; I won't take advantage of you and I'll tell you a valuable secret," I offered. Lesbian Bikers Normally my chance of success with Vivian and that line was nil, but the convergence of a Gabrielle's midnight visit and her desire to show me that trust and honesty could exist without a sexual context brought her to me. She slowly turned around and assumed my desired position. I rabidly wanted to step up to her, gently slip her panties aside and take her cunt with deep languid strokes. "Please stand up," I groaned. Once she was up I leaned into her ear. "You are not a virgin," I whispered carefully. Vivian tensed slightly. "All it means to me is that you know what you are talking about when you mention sexuality and I have to treat you with more respect. I apologize for prying." She twisted to face me and was about to say something but I put a finger to her lips to silence her. "People are listening," I cautioned her quietly. "Thank you for that," Vivian whispered. "It was one time in high school and we had exchanged Promise Rings. It was a mistake we both regret." "It's all cool," I grinned. "I kind of wish your first time had turned you into a wild sex monkey and you and your beau planned on having five hundred kids, but we're good." "Zane," Vivian sounded exasperated, "I pity the woman you decide to marry." "What?" I acted shocked, "I would never cheat on my wife." "Oh, I believe you, but I fear the poor woman would die from exhaustion," she scolded me. "She'd die happy?" I offered up as my only defense. "Lord, give me strength," Vivian groaned. "Go take a shower." "Gotchya, Boss," I beamed happily. I turned half way to the door, then gave a backward glance. "Vivian, if you ever need anything, just ask." "I, ." she was about to scold me but she stopped and sighed. "Fine, Zane, I know you mean well; now go." I winked and raced away. I could swear Vivian believed she was getting a crash course in Mothering a Teenage Boy. Biker Bar Horror Story It had been a hard day of first-round semester testing plus restructuring the Marksmanship and Orienteering Clubs. I still managed to get in sufficient studying (in my opinion) for Friday's round of activities. At lunch I had a little talk with Cordelia and Christina about Gabrielle Black and their fears concerning her. I really wish both women hadn't looked so concerned. I would have preferred they called me paranoid instead. I was sitting watching some bizarre sitcom rerun with an arm around Iona when Rio came rocketing up the stairs. "Hey, Princess," she screamed at me (in case anyone has missed it, Rio is a freak), "Val found out about a Biker bar called the Dixie Roadhouse and we're heading there. Do you want in?" I looked down to Iona who, despite a look of fearful concern, gave me a nod of consent. "Sure thing, Rio," I said, as I popped over the sofa and pulled Iona along after me. "Zane, you are not going out to a bar," Vivian rose to the challenge. "You are only eighteen." "If I don't go, we may not get Rio back," I cautioned my guardian. "Speaking of which: Rio, where is Mercy?" Vivian rounded on my 'Bro'. "I ambushed her: hit her in the head with the Gutenberg Bible and tied her to the back of Valerie's hog," Rio smiled proudly. Pulling Iona along with me, I pursued Rio down the stairs. "I promise I'll bring them all back," I shouted to Vivian. She was kind enough not to chase me down and make me stay. The Dixie Roadhouse looked like some sort of converted barn with a few cobbled together outbuildings. Mine was probably not the first car to grace this dirt parking lot but it was definitely rare to have a ride with four wheels parked here. I had Rio and Mercy with me. Of course, Mercy had not been beaten and tied up for tonight's outing. Iona had ridden gleefully on the back of Val's bike. "This is going to be epic," Rio exulted. "That's right," I joked tragically. "We are five teenagers in school uniforms going into a place that constantly lays down new sawdust to cover up all the blood." "Hey, Sissy-Boy," Rio punched me, "this is on my Bucket List, so don't wimp out on me now." We quickly paired up, Rio with Mercy and Iona with me. Val, Valkyrie went in alone as she felt that would increase her odds of survival. She also wore her Stormriders' patch and colors. Unfortunately, the rest of her gang was two thousand miles away. "Rio," Valerie coughed as she handed Rio a switchblade. Rio snickered, flipped the blade out several times in quick succession before stealthily stashing it into her waist band. 'Thank God,' I thought, 'she actually knows how to use a knife.' The double doors leading into the bar/club were propped open so we migrated in as a group. People didn't stop and stare but they managed a passable job of telling us to 'get the hell out' with their eyes alone. Valerie led us to the bar where the lone bartender took his time getting to us. The guy was going for the chest hair with a black leather vest look along with copious amounts of facial hair. "We don't serve kids," he growled out when he stopped in front of Valkyrie. "We are not high school kids, we are not cops; we are college kids who need a damn drink, not a lecture. So are you going to give us shit or a beer, because there must be a dozen lame college dumps we can go slumming at." "Who are you?" he grumbled. "Valkyrie, Stormriders," Valerie answered. "What is your name?" he persisted. "Valerie Palmer," she shrugged. "Are you kin of Mad Dog Palmer?" he inquired. "Dude, no one calls him Mad Dog who wants to live, and he's my grandfather," she smiled. "Got it," the bartender gave a sinister grin. "What are you doing here?" "My Dad divorced my Mom and became a born again Christian," she informed the guy. "Harsh; so are these kids yours?" he asked; meaning the rest of us. "They are not members but I consider them my associates," Valkyrie allowed. The bartender shrugged and started handing out beers. Val pulled out a roll of bills and paid for our first round. Val and I took slow steady pulls on our drinks. Rio downed hers in two chugs. Mercy and Iona took tentative sips and made disgusted faces as a result. I paid for Rio's second round. "It tastes awful," Iona whispered to me. "Pretend you are drinking it then. Beer is not for everyone," I assured her, and letting her see my smile dispelled any thought that I felt less of her for being different. "Rio," Mercy tried next. "Drink it," Rio demanded. "Do it, and I'll screw you with the bottle; don't, and I'll pour it over your head and shirt." Mercy choked on her response and took a swig of beer. "You annoy the hell out of me, Mercy," Rio reacted in a warmer tone. I looked at Valerie; she looked to me and nodded. Things could be working out far worse. I noticed six biker babes playing pool off in the darkest corner. I didn't think they were a problem but two of them kept giving me the eye. I hoped my current group of women would provide me shielding. A group of ten bikers came rolling into the place, laughing, punching, and doing other masculine bonding rituals. They noted the five out-of-place newcomers at the bar but didn't seem put out until I saw these two guys in the pack and they saw me. We had a bit of history that went all the way back to a bad night for me on a bench in a communal jail cell. Perhaps I suggested that if they didn't get out of my way, I would shove their heads through the bars of the cell. I was in for two counts of assault and they were in for minor drug possession so they backed down. By the look on their faces, they remembered that night, oh, fuck. "Guys!" I cried out. I came off my stool and quickly walked up to the closer of the two. He actually took a step back into one of his buddies. "It is good to see you, Man," I kept grinning. I stepped up, put my left hand on his right elbow to propel his hand up. I clasped his palm and shook it, chest to chest. "A week ago we were all in lock-up together, I was totally wasted, and this guy and his buddy (I nodded to the second guy) saved my ass. Let me buy all of you guys the first two rounds," I offered. The guy who was clearly the dominant member gave my 'buddy' a look. He figured something wasn't right but he didn't know what it was. The two bikers in the cell hadn't talked about their facedown with some college kid since they'd backed off without a fight. "That's about right, Zane," the guy holding my hand said. "Those two guys get out of the hospital?" he continued as we walked as a group to the bar. "Yeah, I administered a warning more than a lesson," I shrugged. "I wanted them to leave my ladies alone. The point was made. The whole jail thing was the Sheriff getting me back for a fight I was in the previous weekend but no one pressed charges." That earned me some knowing chuckles. Beers were handed out; I paid for this round and the next, my heart finally calming down from the near catastrophe. "Gus, what's with the little girls?" the leader addressed the bartender. He titled his head toward Valkyrie. Her colors gave her the higher status. "The little one is with Zane and those two (Rio and Mercy) are together," Valarie answered deadpan. The big guy put his hand on Iona's shoulder while looking at me. "Mind if I take your girl for a dance," he didn't ask, he told me. "You take your hand off of her and I'll forget you touched my girl," I stated with a quiet calm coming over me. "If I don't?" he taunted me. "I don't play twenty questions," I warned him. "Seriously, dude, you want to get into a fight over a girl barely out of a training bra?" Valerie tried to make light of the situation. "She's his sister." The leader let go of Iona and stepped back. "She's your sister? Why in the hell did you bring you sister to this place?" he was curious. "Are you trying to tell me this place isn't 'family friendly'?" I grinned, finally taking a real breath. "That's a fucked-up way to look at things but yes, I guess it is," he chuckled. He reached past Iona and took his beer. Everyone around us relaxed again. "What were you going to do?" he idly asked me. "Since you had your left hand on Iona and your right was going for that steel rod you use as a sap, I was going crush your trachea then introduce your forehead to the bar," I explained. "That might have killed me," he noted. "Nothing personal, but I had nine more bodies to put down," I reminded him. "I would have given us better than even odds that we would be getting out of here," Valerie joined in. "So you really kicked Dog-Boy and Sticks off their bench?" he changed direction. Apparently, then, some in the gang did know. "They were a bit stoned and I was really pissed off," I exaggerated. "That makes sense; they are idiots," the leader grinned. A group of four more bikers with the same colors as the current crop came in. The guy we'd been talking with and five others broke off and headed to the rear of the establishment to seats around two circular tables. The four guys remaining gathered around Rio and Mercy. One guy put a hand on Mercy's shoulder. "Come on out and see my ride," he grinned at a surprisingly calm Mercy. "Hands off," Rio sneered, "I own the bitch." That caused the four men to look at each other. "Don't worry, I rent her out from time to time," Rio acted nonchalant. Two of the guys closed in, one running a hand down Mercy's shoulder and thigh while the other put a hand on each of her hips. "How much?" he growled. "We can take her into the bathroom right now." "Nope," Rio shrugged. "She's got tests at school tomorrow and I've got her busy all weekend long, but write down your number and I'll call you. Zane, pen." I tossed Rio a pen who handed it to the biggest biker. The guy looked Rio, then to her hand. "No," Rio snickered. "Mercy, off the stool and lean over the bar," she emphasized with a slap to the ass. Mercy scrambled to obey. Rio smiled at the dude then flipped Mercy's skirt up, wedged her already slender lacy underwear into her ass crack. Rio smacked a cheek. "Here you go." "Hell, ya," he laughed, as he scrawled his name and number over Mercy's proffered ass cheek. "Are you sure you are going to remember this?" "Oh, yeah; I'm going to be pounding this ass most of the night when I get her home," Rio told him. "I thought you said she had tests tomorrow," the third guy joked. "So do I, and that means I've got a lot of stress to work through," Rio grinned shark-like. "She's going to have to suck it up." That earned another round of laughs. "You really, truly annoy the hell out of me, Mercy," Rio snorted. Mercy resumed her barstool, turned to face Rio and sipped her beer once more. The warming radiance of Mercy's smile was both tragic and sweet. I stole a look toward Iona who had a wide-eyed curious look about her and ended up at Valarie, who looked relieved enough to finally put her back to the bar and look around. We were into our second beer (still Iona and Mercy's first and Rio's fourth) when our sense of ease began floundering. One of the biker chicks that had been playing pool came over to get a round of beers for her outfit. "Candy-ass whores," the woman taunted Rio as she picked up the six beers and walked away. Rio looked to me, somewhat confused and then outraged, and ended up with a glance to Valarie. "What did you say?" Rio sounded disarmingly curious to the biker chick. "You heard me," the woman scoffed. Rio was off the stool like a shot and brought her beer down on the biker chick's head. "Iona, stay close behind me," I hissed. I motioned to Mercy to get her attention. Before the woman could right herself, Rio kicked her in the thigh. As she stumbled forward, all of her beers crashed to the sawdust on the ground. Since the target of her wrath wasn't face-planting fast enough, Rio linked her fists together and hammer-slammed the chick between the shoulder blades; down she went. "I told you to repeat what you said, Bitch!" Rio screamed as she kicked the fallen woman in the ribs. At that point, three of the biker chick's closest companions descended on Rio and pulled her away. Valarie gestured to me to stay seated and I got Mercy's attention and kept her on her stool as well. "Hold her up," growled the biker girl Rio had decked. "What did you say, Bitch?" Rio snarled right back. "Lose the bull-dykes and I'll make you taste my shoe leather." "She's trying to get killed," Valarie whispered to me. Iona tensed with fear. "No, she's trying to get us all killed," I responded softly. "Let's take her outside," the first biker babe suggested as Rio struggled and kicked, attempting to free herself. "No," a different girl directed. "Let's take her to the john; I have an idea." The other women laughed and began dragging Rio away. "Zane!" Rio called out, "We are about to have a Leather Lesbian Slut orgy. Join in anytime you like." That was my cue to get my ass kicked. I moved to intervene, Val on my left between me and the worst of the crowd, Mercy to my right, and Iona taking up the rear. Sadly, a guy around my height but with a beer gut decided that I wasn't going to have an easy time of it. "No, you don't," he threatened. It was pretty clear four or five other guys were ready to jump in. Rio's cursing form disappeared behind the doors. I didn't have much time before Rio incensed the biker chicks so much they throttled her. "Do you have a gun?" I asked with as much patience as I could muster. He grinned evilly, pulled back his vest, and showed me the automatic he had stuck into his belt. I waited until his hand released the vest and moved toward his hip. I snatched the gun, flipped it around and rammed the barrel into his stomach. The only sound in the place was the four overhead fans and some Chris Rock wannabe belting it out over the stereo system. Rio's screams were becoming shriller. "I don't appreciate you pointing a gun at one of my brothers," a different man said. He was one of the group of four that had arrived earlier but I had the impression he was 'somebody'. "I'm really busy right now but I promise to deal with you when I retrieve my friend; okay?" I didn't wait for his response because I was sure it would suck. "Do you want me to feed you your gun back one bullet at a time?" I prodded the guy I had the gun on? He looked around for the moral support from his gang members. "Do it and you are dead," he countered with what I felt was false bravado. "That will hardly do you any good," I grinned as I cocked the hammer back. "Do you want your gun back?" "Ah, yes?" the biker gulped. "Are you going to let me get my girl and get her out of here?" I asked. "Ah, sure?" he seemed confused. I un-cocked the gun, flipped the handhold around and offered him his piece, grip first. No one appeared to know what to make of that. As if expecting a trick, the guy moved slowly. When he took it, I made to move past him. "You be careful now," I told him. He cocked the gun and pressed it into the side of my ribs. "Fuck you," he managed to get out before the 'click' and the point of Valkyrie's blade dug into his jugular, drawing a line of blood. "You really are too fucking stupid to live," Val seethed. "I'm Valkyrie of the Stormriders," she challenged the room. "We wage war on the Hell's Angels and the Mongols so some two-bit outfit like you Warlords doesn't bother me in the least. I'll bleed every one of you fuckers. Your bitch picked a fight with our bitch and you wouldn't man up and deal with it so now my friends will," she growled. "Zane, go get Rio." I nodded quickly and moved past the guy with the gun. "Iona with me; Mercy, you watch Valkyrie's back," I ordered. Iona clung to my back while Mercy hesitantly moved back to back with Val. She wanted to come with us and save Rio, no doubt. I raced over to the women's bathroom and flung open the door. Four sets of eyes riveted me as I came in. The other two women were busy shoving Rio headfirst into one of the toilets. The rest of us were facing knives and guns and Rio was about to get a swirlie. "Hi," I stammered. The two women holding Rio down backed out of the stall and joined the stand-off. "Zane, what fucking took you so long?" Rio panted. She staggered out and looked Iona and I over. "Where the fuck is Mercy?" Rio sounded concerned. "You stupid cow!" I snapped. "We are about to be murdered because of you, damn it." "You left Mercy out there with those animals?" Rio screeched back. She tried to push past the other biker chicks but thankfully didn't get very far. I'd have decked her myself. "Would you please give us our friend back," I requested after taking a deep breath. I was about to be told 'no' when one of the other bikers stepped into the light and I made her out clearly for the first time. "You're, I started to say. "You are Zane Braxton," she stated. "The guy who fucked your sister for an hour?" the lady closest to the lead girl asked. "Yeah," she leered. "He's the kid from the DVD she sent me and her husband, the bitch." Yes, this was the twin sister of the Sheriff's Deputy I'd had a three-way with. Didn't she work at a college club as a bartender? What a small damn world. The whole atmosphere of the room changed. Rio shrugged off the hands holding on to her but didn't bolt. "Rio, take Iona out to the others and wait for me in the parking lot," I insisted. "No, Zane. I'm not leaving you here to take Rio's beating," Iona resisted. Rio wasn't abandoning me either. I reached out and stroked Iona's hair and put my keys in her hand. "It will be okay. No one is going to kill anyone here tonight. Now I need you to go so I can settle up accounts," I grinned down at her with only a twinge of worry. Rio resolved the matter by taking Iona by the hand and dragging her out. Iona looked to be on the verge of tears. Rio's eyes told me she's suddenly sobered up and was regretting leaving me in harm's way. I looked back at the six women and the one oddity chipped away at my senses but I didn't know what to make of it. "So, how's your husband?" was the only, and rather lame, thing I could think to say. "I think he's turned State's Evidence against the Aryan Nation," she shrugged. "I thought your husband was some sort of hardened criminal," I inquired. "Ha," several of the chicks chuckled. "Zane, my husband is an accountant," she clarified with some amusement at my expense. "But, weapons charges, he was laundering money?" I pieced it together. "Good job, College boy," the 'strange' woman congratulated me. "Let's get you out of here before someone takes offense," the leader said. "Give me your number and we'll walk you out. I'm Belle, by the way." She offered her hand and I foolishly kissed it. I quickly gave up my digits, then we did a series of handshakes, French kisses and introductions. When the 'strange' woman's turn came, she introduced herself as Willa. I wanted to fucking cry because just looking at a woman will tell me a good deal about her person, a handshake even more, and a kiss is freaking El Dorado. Willa was a biker chick but she was also college educated, had a regimented training background, and was the only woman in the room who was looking for a way to not hurt Rio, very service-minded of her. "There may be a problem," I interrupted as we headed for the door. "There is this guy," I described the guy I took the gun from, "who I took his gun and threatened him with it. This other guy," I painted a portrait of the authoritative guy, "told me he was pissed with the whole gun thing." All the women stopped and looked at one another. "Zane, where is the gun?" Belle questioned me. "I gave it back to him once he agreed that I could come in here and retrieve Rio, my friend," I answered. "It is a damn miracle you aren't dead," Willa scowled. "I would have been but my other buddy, Val, put a knife to his throat. I left her with Rio's companion covering her back," I explained. "She's kind of tough." "That the one with Stormrider colors?" Belle asked. "Yeah. She's Valarie Palmer, my classmate as FFU," I told them. "Is she Damien Palmer's little girl?" Willa guessed. "She's his oldest granddaughter; is that important?" I inquired. The women seemed nervously amused by my ignorance. "He's a God-damn legend, Zane," Belle said. "Damien Palmer once took the Stormriders to a Mongol gathering in Las Vegas. Outnumbered three to one, they kicked serious ass, cleared out the place, and he ended the fight by grabbing a Mongol chapter president and some other poor Mongol bastard, jumped out a fifth-story balcony, and used their bodies to cushion his fall. I doubt prison has mellowed him much." "Your problems are a little more immediate. The guy whose gun you took is Big Ted, he's a moron. That 'other guy' is Deacon, Warlord chapter president for Northern Virginia," Willa weighed in. "Is he going to let my girls go?" I fretted. "Let's go and find out," Belle shrugged. We stepped out, Belle in the lead, followed by Willa, then me, then the rest. There were a few guys standing by the doors watching something. No one was jumping around or nursing serious wounds so I hoped the girls had exited. "Belle, the kid and I need to have a word out back," Deacon ordered confidently. "Deacon, my sister is keeping an eye on this guy," Belle suggested. "It may not be a good idea to put him in the hospital." "We can't let him push Big Ted around; it is happening," Deacon declared. "Big Ted," she looked to the guy I'd punked, "you want to kick Zane's ass out front?" Belle left Big Ted in the awkward position of taking his chances with me or looking weak in front of his gang. "I'll hand him his nuts," Big Ted growled. Deacon gave his consent and the club emptied out into the front lot. My girls were huddled around my car and Valarie's bike. Rio looked like she was going to do something stupid like run up to me but Mercy and Val held her back. I was actually relieved to see that Iona was behind the wheel of my car with the engine running. The Warlords spread out in a rough semi-circle with Deacon, Big Ted and Belle in the center. I had backed up about ten feet toward the road, facing the Warlords, when Big Ted came for me. He was about my height but around fifty pounds heavier, thus the name Big Ted. The Warlord flexed his arms and did some kind of primitive gesture meant to intimidate me. "So do we start with 'ready, set, go' or what?" I questioned. That brought a round of laughter from the motorcycle gang and Big Ted looked over his shoulder to share in their mirth. My first kick caught him in the nuts, the second one caught him in the chest and knocked him down, and the third saw me stomping on his nut sack once again. I swept around him and kicked him in the head hard enough, he rolled over twice in the dust. Ted was seriously unconscious. For ten seconds no one said a word. Any hope I had of getting away with my underhanded win began to fade when Deacon came forward. "You come to my roadhouse, beat up one of my people, and expect to get away with it?" he grumbled. "Deacon, I am so very sorry this happened. My friends and I only wanted to come by, have a few beers, and let my buddy Val soak in the kind of establishment she was used to going to, namely a biker bar," I said carefully. "Things were said, my best bud went a little nuts, and the shit got out of hand. How can I make it up to you?" "What the fuck can you do for me?" Deacon sneered. "Five thousand dollars?" I threw out there. He studied me. "You have that kind of money?" he questioned me. "Absolutely; I can have you the money tomorrow at six p.m." I promised. "Don't fuck up," he stated with menace, "or I will hunt you and your friends down. Got it?" "Understood," I pledged. Deacon snorted in disdain and headed back inside. The rest of the Warlords were heading inside with a few dragging Ted in and I finally let my focus expand beyond my immediate environs. The car pulling up was still unexpected. I knew the shape of the person who stepped out of the Sheriff's cruiser. "Zane," Sheriff's Deputy Tara Cavanaugh greeted me happily. "Belle," she said to her sister with far less warmth. "Zane, what brings you here?" "A schoolmate of mine is a motorcyclist; she wanted to see what a biker bar was like so we ended up here." "We couldn't get in because we are only eighteen but another friend of mine got sick and had to go to the bathroom. Belle was good enough to get her out," I lied. "Zane, you have sawdust on your shoes," Tara pointed out. "I had to go part of the way in to get my friend," I grinned feebly. "Zane, are you lying to me?" Tara frowned. "Yes," I admitted. "The truth is only going to cause a whole lot of trouble, though." "Wow, morally flexible where the law is concerned," Belle licked her lips. "Of course we already knew he was all kinds of flexible, didn't we?" "Usually the point where I start being talked about like a piece of meat is my cue to leave," I stated crossly. "Deputy Cavanaugh, may I leave now?" "Beat it, Zane," Tara told me. "Thanks, Deputy; take care, Belle. It was nice to meet you and thanks for all your help," I thanked her before rejoining my companions. Valarie drove alone in the lead. The rest of us followed in my car, sans conversation. Sorting Through One Helluva Mess We kept our silence until we stepped out of the elevator on the fifth floor. Valarie grabbed Rio ferociously, slammed her into the wall with one hand holding Rio's right bicep while her forearm was pressed so it choked Rio's throat. "You stupid, crazy bitch!" Valarie howled. "You could have gotten us all killed!" I looped an arm around Mercy's waist before she could go charging to Rio's rescue, and have Valarie beat her up. "Hang on, Mercy; I'll work this out," I whispered. She nodded but her concern was burning through. It was heart-warming to see Iona put an arm through Mercy's in what would be a futile gesture to keep Mercy still if things went bad. "Get your hands off me, Cum-dumpster," Rio snarled, followed by some choking noises as Valerie applied pressure to her windpipe. Next Rio tried to kick Valerie but the bigger woman deflected it with her thigh. It was time for me to step up. "I've got this, Valerie," I told her calmly. Valerie stepped back because she figured her next option was to beat Rio black and blue. I moved into Valerie's place but put my hands to either side of Rio's shoulders. "Rio, this is done; let's put it aside and go to bed early if you want, but I want to ask you one thing if you'll let me," I asked softly. "Fuck off, Zane," Rio rumbled, "I'm not in the mood for one of your mind games." "Okay," I shrugged. "To the Bitter End," I nodded. "To the Bitter End," she muttered back, her eyes drooping to the ground. "We are done," I told the rest of the crowd. Valerie snorted angrily and I figured she'd either bitch me out or never speak to me again. Rio grabbed me before I got away. "I, damn it, Zane, I screwed up again," she choked back a sob. "I'm fine, Rio. I signed on for the crazy so I have no one to blame but myself," I reassured her. "What did you want to ask me?" she sighed as she put her cheek on my chest. "Bro, I can't keep charging in to save you and keep Iona safe at the same time. What am I going to do?" I inquired. "Sorry, Man. I fucked up big time," she moaned. "I don't know why it happened." "That doesn't matter, Rio. Let's call it a night," I said serenely. We started to break up and I could see Valerie still glaring hate at me and Rio. "Rio, do me a favor?" "What?" Rio sounded dejected. "What was the second and, third thing you asked me in the bathroom?" I inquired. Rio snapped her face up toward me, angry and upset. "Don't," she insisted. "I have a near-eidetic memory so if you don't remember, I do," Iona chimed in. "Shut up, you two," Rio snarled. "Rio, I have had it with you. Jump and I'll kick in your teeth," Val seethed in response. Mercy looked ready to jump in too. "You said 'Where is, I began. "Don't, damn it," Rio growled, but she could see I wasn't going to relent. "Fine," she groaned in defeat. "I asked where Mercy was, then I bitched you out for leaving her with those 'animals'. Happy now?" "Pretty much, yeah," I tried not to sound pleased with myself. What I did accomplish was put a glimmer of understanding in Valerie's mind. A few seconds later Mercy clued in too. "Oh, Rio," Mercy teared up, "you didn't have to worry." "I swear, if you cry I'm going to shove so many ice cubes up your cunt, your eyes will shimmer like a snow globe," Rio swore to Mercy. "Rio," Valerie sighed with exasperation, "Learn how to fight, and more importantly, learn when not to fight." In the pack dynamic, going off and picking your own fight was nuts; fighting for someone in your group was totally different. By the uncomplicated code that nomads lived by, you stuck up for your own, and that made all the difference to Valerie. Rio was still crazy and could have gotten us all killed, but she'd done it for another member of the group; in this, case, Mercy. That demanded a reprimand, not expulsion. "How about we go up to Zane's and have some ice-cream?" Iona suggested. "We have ice-cream?" Rio perked up. "When did this happen?" "Rio," Iona sighed wearily, "we put them in on the first day. They are two 1950's style ice-cream freezers, one opposite the close showers and the other down by the far kitchenette." "Mercy," Rio grinned fiercely, "Bring several wash cloths to bed tonight. I'm going to cover your nipples with mint chocolate chip and lick it off." I wondered if Mercy could actually orgasm to death, she certainly looked ready to. "I thought you were going to, Mercy turned to Rio and patted her own behind. "Pound-cake, what makes you think you are getting any sleep tonight?" Rio chastised Mercy, then spanked her ass. "Rio, are you bi-polar?" Val ground out. "One second you are weeping on Zane's shoulder and the next you are engaging in kinky foreplay with your girlfriend." "She's not my girlfriend, she's my toy," Rio corrected. "Also, this shit ain't over. I know Zane jumped on a grenade meant for me but I can't do anything about it right now. I know I put us all in danger, again, nothing I can do about it at the moment. I do know that when I find that bitch Belle or any of her girl-pals, I'm going upside their heads with a pool cue, though." "Gosh," mused Iona, "I should figure out what I want on my tombstone." "Mine is going to read 'didn't kill Rio Talon soon enough'," griped Valerie. "Hardy-har-har," grumped Rio. "You are acting like they'll ever find our bodies." "You annoy me," Mercy whispered to Rio before licking her ear. "Careful, you," Rio smirked. "Ice cubes-cunt snow globe." I was thankful when I got to the door lock, entered my code, and held the door for them to head up. I tagged Valerie at the top of the stairs. She looked at me with annoyance but softened to curiosity when she saw my concern. "Zane," Vivian called out before I got anywhere. "We need to talk." That was depressing. "Val, I need to ask you something important. Can you please wait?" I asked the biker babe. "Sure," she promised before heading to get a drink. I walked with Vivian into my bedroom area. At the foot of the bed was laid out a skirt, shirt, bra, panties and socks. The shoes were on the floor. The owner was no mystery. Reclining on the pillows was Paige. She was clothed, sort of. She was decked out all in brilliant red: stockings, garter belt, silky panties, and a gauze-like bra that highlighted her pale breasts perfectly. Her flesh radiated like freshly fallen snow and her hair flowed forth from my pillow like a glacier crafted by spiders into a delicate web. "Hey," I sighed hungrily. "Hey," Paige responded in a rich sultry voice. "Paige!" Vivian snapped. "How did you get past me?" "I'm a ghost-panthress stalking my prey," Paige leered. "With the way Zane's heart is pounding, I'm doing a good job of it too." "Get up, put on a robe, and leave the room now," Vivian insisted. "Oh," groaned Paige as she rolled over and shook her delicious shaped bottom at me, "I'm so tired. I need someone's help in getting out of bed." Yes, I wanted to go to the bed right then, but it had nothing to do with helping Paige actually get out of that bed or that position. "I'll take care of her," I told Vivian. I walked to a wardrobe across the room, opened it up, and took a look around inside. Vivian walked behind me and gasped. "What are you doing with all these robes, all these women's robes, Zane?" Vivian muttered. "I got them predicated on the notion that I would have women up here. I thought it would be considerate of me to give them a choice of what to wear," I indicated my selection. "How did you smuggle them all in here?" Vivian wondered. "We have mail service, Vivian. I ordered them online." She seemed confused. The university didn't block clothing sites from their computer network. I pulled out a short red one with a white and black tiger circling on the back and showed it to Paige. "Oh, cool, I'll look like a Bangkok whore," Paige sounded conflicted. "Actually, this one is from China so that would make you a White Russian Shanghai hooker," I corrected. "Oh, I like that," Paige purred as she crawled over to my side of the bed on all fours. &qu

Cracks in the Fandom — Part 3 (Edited Copyright Cut)PRETEND: Stories about real people pretending to be someone they're not Michelle Ivey has been painted as the villain. Meghan Walsh calls her a stalker, a criminal, a threat to her life. She's warned not to contact her. But in this episode, I do just that. I talk to Michelle. And what I find is something very different from the unhinged boogeyman Meghan has described for years. What if Michelle isn't stalking anyone at all? What if she's just a fan? In Part 3, the story begins to fracture. Meghan's claims get louder. But her evidence starts to slip. And the people she says are targeting her… start to speak up. This is the extended version of the episode. If you're listening now on Patreon or Pretend+, I'd love to know what you think. Is this story about stalking, delusion, or something else entirely? Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

0:00 Intro 0:07 Saved a life 3:15 Collection 4:45 Cat 6:21 Buried treasure 7:55 Pretend fired 9:34 Liar 11:43 LOL Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

LISTEN and SUBSCRIBE on:Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/watchdog-on-wall-street-with-chris-markowski/id570687608 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/2PtgPvJvqc2gkpGIkNMR5i WATCH and SUBSCRIBE on:https://www.youtube.com/@WatchdogOnWallstreet/featured  The cockroaches never left — they just found better hiding spots. In this episode of WDOWS, we go back to the 2023 regional bank meltdown — Silicon Valley, Signature, First Republic — and uncover why the rot in private credit, bad loans, and commercial real estate was never truly cleaned up. From Jamie Dimon's “cockroach” warning to the extend-and-pretend game keeping zombie banks alive, this is a deep dive into Wall Street's dirty secret: the big boys always win, and the small lenders (and borrowers) get crushed.

Good Morning BT with Bo Thompson & Beth Troutman | Thursday, October 16, 2025 6:05 Beth’s Song of the Day 6:20 Major General John Meyer comments on Pentagon reporters forfeiting credentials [Replay]6:35 Listener Cohen is way cooler than we originally thought... which was already pretty cool6:50 RAM Biz Update; Protein being added to EVERYTHING, including Beth's chips 7:05 GMBT Panther talk7:20 Things people pretend to enjoy, but actually hate7:35 Things people pretend to enjoy, but actually hate (cont.)7:50 Trump to meet with Zelenskyy tomorrow, while government remains shut down 8:05 Tarheel chat: Matt Dougherty on the Brett Winterble Show, effects of Belichick on UNC8:20 More memories of the BoPlex, soon-to-be-reopened Spectrum Center8:35 Top 10 live, non-sports events & Top 20 most memorable moments at the Spectrum Center 8:50 Callers & Spectrum Center countdowns (cont.) 9:05 David Chadwick in-studio - Gaza peace deal9:20 David Chadwick in-studio - Doug Lebda passing & David conducting the funeral this weekend9:35 Jones Angell on this week's Tarheels-Cal game9:50 Michael J Fox's new book / Show wrapSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Michael Hamflett and Michael Sidgwick review NXT and discuss...New Number One Contender Crowned!Trick Williams Attacks Ricky Saints!More Zaruca Drama!The Hardyz Pretend To Help Young Guys But Really Are They Just Scooping Up Heat Yet Again (of course they are)?!@MSidgwick @MichaelHamflett Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

What Do People Only Pretend to Enjoy by Maine's Coast 93.1

It might look like simple fun, but pretend play is one of the most powerful tools for your child's early development. In Episode 264 of The Family Meeting Podcast, Thomas and Lysandra explore why playing pretend with your kids isn't just silly games, it's a God-given way for children to learn, grow, and thrive. From building creativity to developing empathy, role play helps shape the skills your kids will carry into the rest of their lives. In this episode, you'll discover: The science behind imaginative play and brain development. How pretend play builds problem-solving, creativity, and emotional awareness. Why role-playing fosters empathy, kindness, and stronger relationships. Practical ways parents can join in pretend play (without feeling awkward). A biblical perspective on childlike imagination and learning through play. Whether your child is staging a tea party, building a fort, or pretending to be a superhero, this episode will inspire you to join in with joy, knowing you're helping shape their heart and mind. Bonus Resource: Send an email to info@familymeeting.org for our 10 Simple Ways To Encourage Pretend Play At Home. For more information: https://linktr.ee/familymeeting.

Meghan Walsh says she is being stalked by three people. One of them is Law & Order: SVU star Mariska Hargitay. Sounds impossible, right? But she's not the only one saying it. In this episode, we meet Lauren. She claims to be the biological mother of Mariska's adopted daughter. Her story begins with a supposed secret adoption, and spirals into accusations of betrayal and abandonment. Lauren says the actress is not just stalking her, but working behind the scenes to silence anyone who challenges her. Meghan believes her. To her, Lauren is the missing piece that proves her own story is real. But the more we dig, the harder it becomes to separate truth from delusion. Is this the beginning of a deeper conspiracy? Or just another internet rabbit hole? This extended version includes additional narration and soundbites not available in the public edit. Let me know what you think of the series so far. Your feedback will help shape the final episodes before they go live in the main feed. All 4 Episodes Available now on Pretend+ and Patreon PATREON: https://www.patreon.com/pretendradio PRETEND+ on Apple Podcast: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/channel/pretend/id6443456985 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

On this episode of The Pretend GM, Alfredo was joined by Marcas Grant to discuss everything about fantasy football, his favorite strategies to win championships, and how to use the waiver wire.   Subscribe to the Podcast: - Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/footballguys-fantasy-football-show/id1615143637 - Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/5Vx0kjA5n4d4wdMspVmoKo?si=c7e15989ff8d4f48 Follow Alfredo Brown on Twitter: https://x.com/AlfredoABrown    #fantasyfootball #dynastyfootball

Secrets: What Do You Pretend To Like? " I pretend to like my mother in-law's cooking..."See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

What lines do you teach your ids? We want to get into the spooky season and hear scary stories from the listeners! What's your favorite cool weather food? What do you pretend to like? We find out what chat fishing is all about... would you be mad if someone used it for your emotional convos? See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

What lines do you teach your ids? We want to get into the spooky season and hear scary stories from the listeners! What's your favorite cool weather food? What do you pretend to like? We find out what chat fishing is all about... would you be mad if someone used it for your emotional convos? See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Get episodes without adverts at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠EasyStoriesInEnglish.com/Support⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠. Your support is appreciated! It's Kitty's birthday! And how better to celebrate than by baking a cake? Just one problem: how do you do it? Well, if you add five delicious things, it will be five times as delicious, and if you add a hundred delicious things... Go to ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠EasyStoriesInEnglish.com/CakeL2 for the full transcript. Level: Pre-Intermediate. Genre: Children's. Vocabulary: Sandpit, Nuts, Eggshell, Divine, Pretend, Wag, Naughty, Stomach rumbles, Mud. Setting: Fairytale. Word Count: 1947. Author: Ariel Goodbody. 0:00 Intro 0:52 You can see me! 2:31 Relevelling 6:26 Vocabulary 11:03 Doggo and Kitty Bake a Cake 26:10 Outro Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

André, The Impulsive Thinker™, sits down with internationally renowned psychiatrist Dr. Annick Vincent to tackle a concept every ADHD Entrepreneur needs to hear: your brain needs to be available. This episode strips down what's truly taking up space in your working memory, how daily burdens (both internal and external) drain your focus, and why perfectionism and people-pleasing add to the mental load. Dr. Vincent shares real-world examples around balancing work, relationships, and home life with ADHD. Expect practical strategies for reducing overwhelm, asking for help, and reclaiming mental space—so you can adapt, focus, and better navigate your entrepreneurial journey.  

This week on Look Forward, the guys return to discuss the continued government shutdown, healthcare tax credits set to expire in a month, White House toying with the idea of not paying furloughed federal employees, Israel and Hamas come to a tentative peace agreement, Trump get his second annual check up in the last 6 months, Feds indict Comey and Letitia James as Trump's enemy's list gets going, rightwing influencers come the White House and say very off things, RFK has a new reason for the cause of autism and its a cut above the rest, Mike Johnson has a suggestion for a better choice for the Superbowl halftime show than Bad Bunny (its lamer than you'd imagine), and much more!Big TopicFederal Shutdown ContinuesHealthcare tax credits due to expire in a monthWhite House seem to be suggestion no furlough backpay for fedsNews You NeedIsrael and Hamas have a tentative peace agreementCBS News if officially uselessWhere the US leaves a void, China will fill itHe's healthy, stop asking!Fast Corruption and Faster Screw-UpsFeds indict Comey and Letitia JamesTurns out Trump did actually think he was sending a DM to Pam Bondi!Trump invites right wing influencers to WH; says they've “taken the freedom of speech away” re: flag burningIn the latest “Dear Leader” session, RFK states the Tylenol advice is an unproven theory; also blames circumcision?What's Dumber, A Brick or A Republican?How do you do, fellow kids?

This week, Kelsey talks about how it went shooting her special, they talk about whether or not they believe in an afterlife and share a crazy story about someone who was declared legally dead and came back to life. Plus great listener emails including ones from people who attended Kelsey's special taping and ANOTHER dentist horror story! Write into pretendproblemspodcast@gmail.com with your dating and relationship advice questions and we'll answer them on the show! Subscribe to the podcast, and give it a 5-star rating and review to help the show move up the charts. Video for the episodes is on Kelsey’s YouTube channel! Join our Patreon: https://patreon.com/PretendProblems Watch the episodes and subscribe here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC9UBPfi4B_j1Ua7xDOcyBnA See Kelsey on tour: https://punchup.live/kelseycook/tickets See Chad on tour: https://punchup.live/chaddaniels/tickets Watch Kelsey's special “Mark Your Territory” on YouTube: https://youtu.be/uYqWsDhWkkA?si=J9hgt5nKtMLxB1sj Watch Chad's special "Mixed Reviews" on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1kVr3zkz7E&t=663s Follow Kelsey on social media: @KelseyCookComedy Follow Chad on social media: @thatchaddaniels Theme Song cowritten by Matthew Facca and Alex Bent To get simple, online access to personalized, affordable care for ED, Hair Loss, Weight Loss, and more, visit Hims.com/PRETEND.

If you've ever wondered how much you can (or should) take from your business—or why your bank account doesn't always feel as full as your profits say it should—this episode is for you!Glenn Harper and Julie Smith tackle a classic challenge faced by business owners—how do you actually pay yourself as an entrepreneur? Drawing inspiration from a recent lively dinner debate, Glenn and Julie talk about the difference between taking a draw versus running payroll, why cash flow discipline is crucial in those early ramen-noodle days, and the surprising tax realities every entrepreneur needs to understand. From the myth that business owners can “just take out whatever they want” to the essential 50% savings rule, this episode delivers practical advice on managing your money, setting boundaries, and knowing when—and how much—you should pay yourself. Additionally, they'll discuss why having a trusted advisor is important and preview upcoming deep dives into business structures and tax strategy. This episode is brought to you by PureTax, LLC. Tax preparation services without the pressure. When all you need is to get your tax return done, take the stress out of tax season by working with a firm that has simplified the process and the pricing. Find out more about how we started.Key Takeaways from the Episode:1. Don't Chase the Shiny Object (a.k.a. All That Cash in Your Business Account). It's tempting to pay yourself whatever's in the bank, but Glenn reminds us: “The more money you take out… the less money you have for the bad times or to invest back in your company.” Start by leaving enough cash cushion in your business to weather tough times and fund growth.2. Start Small, Think Big. When your business is getting off the ground, think like you're back in college—keep expenses lean and take only what you truly need. As Glenn puts it, “Pretend like you're back in college, eating ramen noodles and you can't take any money out.” Let your business account grow before ramping up payouts.3. Draws, Payroll, and the 50% Rule. If you're a sole proprietor or single-member LLC, you'll usually take draws (withdrawals) instead of payroll at first. But as your income grows (think $80k+), it might be more tax-efficient to become an S corp and start using payroll.Running a business doesn't have to run your life.Without a business partner who holds you accountable, it's easy to be so busy ‘doing' business that you don't have the right strategy to grow your business.Stop letting your business run you. At Harper & Co CPA Plus, we know that you want to be empowered to build the lifestyle you envision. In order to do that you need a clear path to follow for successOur clients enjoy a proactive partnership with us. Schedule a consultation with us today.Download our free guide - Entrepreneurial Success Formula: How to Avoid Managing Your Business From Your Bank Account.Glenn Harper, CPA, is the Owner and Managing Partner of Harper & Company CPAs Plus, a top 10 Managing Partner in the country (Accounting Today's 2022 MP Elite). His firm won the 2021 Luca Award for Firm of the Year. An entrepreneur and speaker, Glenn transformed his firm into an advisory-focused practice, doubling revenue and profit in two years. He teaches entrepreneurs to build financial...

LISTEN and SUBSCRIBE on:Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/watchdog-on-wall-street-with-chris-markowski/id570687608 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/2PtgPvJvqc2gkpGIkNMR5i WATCH and SUBSCRIBE on:https://www.youtube.com/@WatchdogOnWallstreet/featured  The cracks in America's commercial real estate market are widening fast. With office CMBS delinquency rates at record highs and skyscrapers selling for pennies on the dollar, “extend and pretend” can only delay the inevitable. As small and mid-sized banks sit on mountains of toxic paper, new mergers hint at a brewing crisis. Will taxpayers once again be left holding the bag when this balloon finally pops?

LaDonna Humphrey. Remember that name because she is central to this story. I've tried to sum up this tale quickly, but every time I attempt an elevator pitch, I fail. When friends ask me what this new series is about, I'm at a loss for words. It's impossible to explain in just a few minutes. I'm about to retell the story the way I learned it: completely out of order. By the end, you'll need a suspect board like the ones in the movies. I've conducted over 20 interviews and counting, and you're going to hear some far-fetched allegations from many different people—strangers who share one common thread: they've all crossed paths with LaDonna Humphrey. There's a lot of he said, she said in this story, and I'll do my best to prove or disprove each claim. This series is going to be a long one, unfolding in real-time as you listen. By the end, I hope I've done enough for you to make up your own mind and understand why so many people are afraid of LaDonna Humphrey. *** Listen to PRETEND: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/pretend/id1245307962 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

in today's episode, we're doing some catching up on kind strangers, the 3 kinds of best friends, and dealing with reading the comments... in any comments section on the internet.

This week, Meghan and Melisa are giving advice on: Getting burnt out in a relationship Paralyzing breakup Being a self-absorbed friend Don't Blame Them: Study abroad fuckboy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In the third installment of True Story Media Presents, Andrea sits down with Javier Leiva—host and creator of PRETEND. The two talk about how they first connected, their new partnership under True Story Media, and the overlapping themes in their work. They dig into the emotional toll of telling true crime stories, and Javier shares his path from local news and documentary filmmaking into the world of true crime podcasting, and how his show has become a space to unravel deception, trauma, and control. Javier also introduces listeners to one of his latest series: The Internet Saves the Bachelor. It follows former Bachelor star Clayton Echard as he's pulled into a web of deception by Laura Owens—including a fabricated pregnancy that spiraled into chaos. *** Listen to PRETEND: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/pretend/id1245307962 Order Andrea's book The Mother Next Door: Medicine, Deception, and Munchausen by Proxy.  Click here to view our sponsors. Remember that using our codes helps advertisers know you're listening and helps us keep making the show!   Subscribe on YouTube where we have full episodes and lots of bonus content.  Follow Andrea on Instagram: @andreadunlop Buy Andrea's books here.  For more information and resources on Munchausen by Proxy, please visit MunchausenSupport.com The American Professional Society on the Abuse of Children's MBP Practice Guidelines can be downloaded here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Nicole Kidman divorcing Keith Urban, Detroit Tigers down to their last game, Thomas Markle hoax, Chicago Bears coach Ben Johnson hates women, Corey Feldman on Jamie Kennedy's podcast, gross Tyreek Hill injury, and Aaron Imholte to jail. A brutal 8th inning destroyed the Detroit Tigers today and they'll face the Cleveland Guardians in a deciding Game 3 tomorrow. We were live on YouTube and you can still check it out. Videos: This dog is trained to respond to voices of The Beatles. FAMU has an ‘Ozempic' dance team. Cincinnati Bengals QB Joe Burrow's girlfriend got lost in a Paris airport and cried to the world about it. Pretend morning show host and Dabbleverse member Aaron Imholte is going to jail! Father of 7 by 5 women, Diddy is to be sentenced this Friday. He's facing up to 20 years in prison. Tyreek Hill jacked his knee and leg up on MNF. He's cooked. Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban split after 19 years together. There is a cocaine clause in the pre-nup that'll bring some serious dough to Urban. Megyn Kelly wants nothing to do with CBS. Shaq is NOT nailing Sophie Rain… according to Shaq. Some Kansas City Chief Karen stole a Patrick Mahomes headband from a child. Chicago Bears Ben Johnson was mean to Aditi Kinkhabwala according to the internet. The Cosby Show's Geoffrey Owens has ditched the cashier gig for a NYC restaurant host. We check in with the joint to chat with Owens. Thomas Markle was almost trapped in a Philippines earthquake. Wait… no he wasn't. Prince Harry can't make Meghan Markle happy. RIP Jane Goodall. Corey Feldman popped up on Jamie Kennedy's podcast. Lionel Richie used to call Michael Jackson “smelly”. If you'd like to help support the show… consider subscribing to our YouTube Channel, Facebook, Instagram and Twitter (Drew Lane, Marc Fellhauer, Trudi Daniels, Jim Bentley and BranDon).

Pretend we made a witty "third and taking-too-long" pun, because that's what we -- and guest Kim "Best Thing" Reed -- thought about Glen Powell vehicle Chad Powers. It isn't bad, but between the first-drafty jokes and getting stuck between two tones, we're not sure you should watch all the way to the end zone. Okay, let's ditch the football puns to go Around The Dial with On Brand With Jimmy Fallon, Kim's recent-reality overview, and Sarah's High Maintenance rewatch; and let's see if the panel respected "Authority," Sarah's L&O: SVU Canon pitch. Nicole Beharie won, Mid-Century Modern lost, and we juggled a hot potato of HBO series "lifers" in Game Time. Pair your podcast app with your Cybertruck's sound system and join us! GUESTS

[video available on spotify] it's 9pm right now, i'm in my pajamas and i'm getting tired. so let's pretend that we're having a sleepover. at tonight's sleepover, we're going to play truth or dare. eBay is the place for pre-loved and vintage fashion.  Shop SKIMS bras and underwear at skims.com/anything Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices