Podcasts about Ramrod

Edward Ford and Alan Chiasson came to Afghanistan with long résumés in uniform and out. Ford was a Force Recon Marine with combat tours in the Gulf War, Somalia, Iraq, and Afghanistan before moving into high-end security contracting. Chiasson was a Navy Hospital Corpsman and Texas paramedic who'd spent years providing high-risk medical support on PSD and convoy details in Iraq and Afghanistan. When the private security firm SOC (Special Operations Consulting) expanded its mobile operations in Afghanistan, both men ended up on armored Ford F-550 gun trucks running some of the most dangerous roads in the country. At first, their teams hauled critical supplies—ammo, fuel, food, equipment—to isolated Special Forces sites and small outposts the regular military couldn't cover. Then SOC picked up the Department of Defense contract to move something that sounded almost ordinary: the mail. Ford, Chiasson, and their teammates suddenly became the unofficial “Pony Express” of Afghanistan, hauling letters and care packages from Kabul and Bagram along the notorious Ring Road to places like Ghazni, Sharana, Orgun-E, and tiny dirt compounds with nothing but Hesco walls and a few tents. Troops took the mail for granted; few ever thought about the chain of convoys and gun trucks that got a letter from a stateside mailbox to a cot in Kandahar. Postcards Through Hell tells that story from the inside. The “Pony Express” ran four teams in a three-on, one-off rotation so three could be on the road at any time. One team took the long hauls, another ran the shorter Kabul ring route while standing QRF, and a third trained, refit, and got ready to swap in. A “good” day might mean an 18-hour, thousand-kilometer push with no major incidents—what they jokingly called the “Thousand Kilometer Club.” Most days weren't like that. They drove flat-bottom F-550s with level-seven armor and twin turrets, strong against small arms but vulnerable to anything placed directly underneath. Once the Taliban figured out that weakness, a well-buried mine or IED under the chassis could flip a truck or tear it in half. The book is anchored in specific days and events. Ford saved incident reports, op orders, and run paperwork; Chiasson kept a journal. Together they rebuilt a timeline that lets them write, “On April 30 we were here; on May 1 this happened,” instead of “sometime that spring.” Around those convoy stories they layer the wider war: the Camp Chapman suicide bombing; Special Forces “kill teams” at outposts like Ramrod; Italian forces paying the Taliban not to attack them, which meant somebody else—often the Pony Express—became the target. They were there when other contractor convoys got hit, when friends died in F-550s blown apart by stacked anti-tank mines, and when gun trucks limped back into Kabul with wounded men inside and burned-out hulks left behind on the road. Their daily life was built around a simple idea: keep your brothers alive. When they weren't running missions, they were on QRF. When they weren't on QRF, they were working out. When they weren't working out, they were training. They ate together, lived on top of each other in cramped villas and compounds, and used the long Afghan “fighting season”—April through October—to sort out who really belonged there. The easy-sounding mail run weeded people out fast. Some new hires lasted one fighting season, some one mission, some one week. Others stayed for years, until they hit what Ford calls “the wall”—that private moment when you look at a body on a slab, or feel age and accumulated blast damage catching up with you, and decide it's time to go home. Postcards Through Hell doesn't ignore the business side of contracting. Ford and Chiasson talk frankly about companies weighing the cost of vehicle upgrades against death-benefit payouts, replacing seasoned expatriate drivers with cheaper local nationals, and relying on Afghan “expediters” whose loyalties sometimes ran in more than one direction.  The story doesn't end when the convoys stop. The contract itself ran, under different companies, into 2016, and Ford and Chiasson had to cut whole chapters from the book because of classified work and units involved.  At heart, Postcards Through Hell is a book about a very unglamorous, absolutely vital piece of America's longest war.  We're grateful to UPMC for Life  for sponsoring this event!

A burst of gunfire on a quiet November night. Two lives lost, more injured and an icon gay bar turned crime scene forever.On November 19, 1980, 38-year-old ex-transit cop Ronald K. Crumpley opened fire on patrons entering RAMROD, a beloved gay leather bar in Greenwich Village. What began as a night out ended in chaos. People ducked behind parked cars, others ran but two men, Vernon Kroening and Jörg Wenz, were killed, and many more wounded. In this episode of our LGBTQ+ true crime podcast we trace the horror of that massacre, the homophobia and mental illness behind it, and the ripple effect it had in a community already living in the shadows. We explore how a single act of hatred cracked open the illusion of safety for queer New Yorkers and why that reckoning still echoes today.Hosted by Jordi and Brad, Beers With Queers brings chilling crimes, queer stories, and twisted justice to light with a cold one in hand. Press play, grab a drink, and join us as we uncover the darkest corners of LGBTQ+ history.To sign our online petition to have a memorial or plaque added to the building that once was the RAMROD please visit: https://c.org/L6QfmV4Q6N

The Time Riders: Part 16 To further the science. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. There was a knock at the door and Valentina came in, pushing a silver cart in front of herself. "Thought it might be time for refreshments," she chirped, her cheerful brown eyes not at all fazed by the scene in front of her. She looked at Becky. "I figured you might find some electrolytes handy, so I have green smoothies, strawberry-banana smoothies, coconut water, and OJ. That should fit the bill, right?" "Thank you so much, Val," Becky said, not at all bothered by being naked in front of this girl. Clearly it wasn't out of the ordinary, so she didn't care. Not to mention she'd referred to Mike and Karen as 'Master' and 'Mistress', so there was more to her employment than met the eye. Nanu was staring at Val's outfit again, making Val giggle. She left the cart and approached the tiny Egyptian girl now, smiling. "Watch this, Nanu," she said before pulling her arms into her chest and doing on spin, her short skirt flaring out and twirling around her, revealing her tiny black panties. Nanu clapped excitedly, her eyes wide with delight. "Great, now she'll want to own one of those outfits," Becky sighed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry for the fib I'm about to tell about you, Val." She looked at Nanu. "It's a pretty outfit, yes, but it's a slave's outfit, darling." The Egyptian girl blinked. "She is a slave?" "Can't you see the collar she's wearing?" Becky pointed out, indicating Val's black lace choker, with the glittering white stone on the front. "She; is a slave to the gods?" Nanu murmured, lapsing into thought about that before looking back at Becky. "Well, that doesn't sound so bad, does it? We should become their slaves." Karen broke down giggling, hiding her face in her husband's massive arm and kicking her feet cutely. Mike just smirked while Becky sighed and rolled her eyes. Valentina had no idea what had just been said, but based on her employers' reactions, whatever it was hadn't panned out as Becky intended. She decided to make herself scarce. "scuse me, servant stuff to do," she chimed, doing a curtsy before leaving and closing the door behind her. Nanu sat up, straddling Mike's waist and trying to figure out why the goddess was laughing. "Really?" Becky groused, giving Nanu a sour look. "I rescue you from slavery, and you decide to volunteer for it because it's these two?" "Do you blame me?" Nanu said with a shrug. "As long as I get fed and fucked, this seems like a good life with pretty clothing." "You do not need to be a slave for us to do that with you, Nanu," Karen pointed out, caressing her arm. "Well, nobody's fucked me yet," Nanu announced, trying to pout rather unsuccessfully. "What good is being a free woman if it doesn't get me cock when I need it?" "I see food and sex are her two primary drivers," Mike mused. "And possibly revenge," Becky added, watching as Nanu reached behind herself and took hold of the currently soft cock and began massaging it. "If you see her whispering into her palm, shit's about to get real. Honey, that might not be a good idea." "They said I don't need to be a slave to fuck them," Nanu replied, still stroking and now fingering herself, as if to get ready. "I want to be fucked." "Let the chips fall where they may, I guess," Becky said, sitting up and moving around the bed to join Karen. Soon, they were in a sapphic tangle, limbs wrapped around one another and kissing deeply. Nanu watched while she stroked the god's cock, slowly bringing him to life. Karen was on top of Becky now, sitting up and straddling with their legs scissored and their wet pussies kissing. She began to squirm her hips, and Becky did the same, groaning in pleasure. "Hmm, missed this too," she murmured. "As did I," Karen sighed, pulling Becky's leg up so that it was braced against her with her toes in the air. They slowly slithered together, nether lips mingling, clits brushing against one another. They were both wet enough that they could hear their lovemaking. The god was hard now, and Nanu was determined to do this right. She moved backward and pushed up as tall as she could on her knees, her cunt directly over the huge cockhead. She pressed against it and moved around, making sure she was good and wet. She felt the tip just push her lips apart slightly, and inched her way down. She bit her lower lip as the pressure increased, feeling a very slow penetration. She gasped and shuddered as the head went inside, stretching her in a way she hadn't felt before, except with a fist. There was an audible, wet and almost gristly 'pop' noise, followed by another from somewhere inside her hips structure as she sank down and sat very still. Becky and the two professors looked at her somewhat curiously. "Nanu?" Becky asked. "You okay, darling?" The tiny girl didn't respond, still staring off into space, her eyes unseeing. Finally, a single tear was trickling down her cheek. "Oh, well done, Ramrod," Karen said rather sarcastically to her husband, still looking at Nanu. "Even if you didn't break her in half, she's still going to have hip dysplasia." "I didn't make her do it," Mike pointed out. "I hope we have a wheelchair around, though." The Egyptian girl finally opened her eyes, slowly, and took several deep breaths, her palms resting on the god's muscular abdomen. She looked up at the ceiling, puckering her lips and making sucking sounds as she tried to center herself. She trembled as she pushed up on her knees, starting to move, and then shook almost violently as she sank back down. She squeaked and then whimpered, going still. Then she repeated the process, taking it slow. "Well, I'll be damned," Becky mused as she watched, still grinding her cunt against Karen's. "She actually did it and didn't kill herself. She'll be trying to sit on fire hydrants next." Nanu didn't make it more than three strokes up and down before she clapped her and over her mouth and screamed into it, her entire body shaking as she came. Once she'd recovered, she began moving up and down again, a little faster, determined to have at least one more orgasm before she died. She straightened her torso and kept moving up and down, her eyes closed and a shameless moaning escaping her lips. She lasted a little longer this time, but still ended up clamping both hands over her mouth and screeching, almost convulsing before she simply wilted, collapsing forward on to the god beneath her, eyes wide open but unseeing, chest heaving as she tried to breathe. "Determined little thing, isn't she?" Karen mused, looking on, even while she made love to Becky. How she'd missed this feeling with her favorite student. "You'd have to be, to survive what she did pretty much her whole life," the blonde replied with a sigh, undulating beneath her teacher. "She's such a sweetheart, but she surprises me sometimes with a brutal mercenary streak. And her morals are; decidedly different from ours." "Noted," Karen said before leaning down and kissing Becky heatedly, squashing their tits together. They were swallowing one another's tongues, grinding and girl-fucking their way to bliss, until Becky wailed into Karen's mouth, cumming hard. Karen followed moments later, bathing Becky's cunt in her sticky essence. They wrapped themselves up in one another, kissing deeply and just enjoying the shared post-orgasm bliss. It had been too long, and Becky would do her damndest to make sure that didn't happen again. She almost giggled through the kiss as she thought about the fact that she had access to a time machine, if she really needed to see to the issue. She and Karen rolled themselves together into Mike's side, snuggling into him while Nanu seemed quite content to simply remain motionless on top of him. Given that she was almost bolted down to his cock, she might not have had much of a choice in the matter, mind. "You okay there, Prof?" Becky asked, smirking up at him while she caressed her other idol. "Might've been a while since I've been in anyone quite this tight," Mike replied, smiling and pretending to wince, as if being clamped inside Nanu was somehow painful. "Excuse you, sir," Karen chimed, trying to sound indignant, but failing as she giggled. "Am I to understand I am not tight enough for you?" "You're the perfect amount of tightness, Gordon, and you know it," the huge blond man said, reaching over and caressing his wife's ass cheeks. Karen purred contentedly at the contact, snuggling into Becky even more. Becky sighed, because she loved watching the profs together. She'd never seen two people more desperately in love, or more perfect for one another. "So is it just you and Nanu in your little arrangement?" Karen asked, looking down at her student and gently poking her nose. "Well," Becky began before offering a weak smile. "It's complicated?" "Given what a hard time you had earlier, perhaps I shouldn't be surprised," mused the older woman, smiling kindly. "Are you hiding another girl from elsewhere in the world?" "No," Becky said, blushing. "I;” If she couldn't tell these two, who could she tell? "There might be an angle with one of my students," she confessed. "Rebecca Nightingale Fischer," Karen said, her smile becoming a smirk. "You and a student? You naughty girl. Not that Michael and I are in any place to judge, of course." "Don't I know it," Becky giggled. "Yeah, there is. Or there will be. I don't know how to explain it." "One of those moments again, clearly," Mike said, his other hand stroking down Nanu's back. She looked positively tiny on top of him, like a kitten gone to sleep. She was stirring and slowly coming back to life. "Don't try too hard, Rebecca." "Yes sir," she said rather reflexively, but she also enjoyed the little tingle she always got from obeying him. "Mark and I, and Nanu, will be a thing by the time summer rolls around." "M-ark?" Nanu mumbled tiredly, almost yawning. Had she fallen asleep? "What about M-ark, Mistress?" "She calls you Mistress, hmm?" Karen observed. "It looks like I'm not the only one with a kitten on my hands." Becky blushed. "She; insists she be allowed. I've tried to break the habit, no dice." She looked at Nanu now. "I was just explaining about waiting until the summer before we will be seeing Mark." "You get to see him all the time at school," Nanu pointed out. "But you say you can't fuck him. I hope they understand, because I sure don't." "Nonlocal measurement," Karen said, listening to the two younger women speak in Latin, although she was talking to her husband. "Low-entropy probability that falls outside the Born System." "And deterministic despite a Dirac constant and equation," Mike said before he chuckled and began sitting Nanu up straight. She shuddered and gasped deeply, seeming to have forgotten that she was speared on him. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at where her cunt was split wide apart by his massive erection. She didn't seem to be able to process anything like that fitting inside her. "Christ," Becky muttered, shaking her head. "I'm supposed to be a physics teacher, and I have no damn clue what you two are talking about." "Ultimately, determinism," Mike replied, letting Nanu try to adjust. "I remember teaching you the concept." "And I remember the lessons," Becky sighed. "Never thought they'd be applied to me personally. I keep forgetting you two are religious." "I think it's pretty much a given that you, my dear, are meant to study quantum crystallography," Karen cooed, stroking the blonde's cheek. "So of course, Michael and I will teach you everything we know, and will help you further on that path. You were, without question, our most gifted student. This is your chance." "What's everyone talking about, Mistress?" Nanu asked, shifting around her hips to make sure they weren't actually fractured. "You're talking in your stupid En-gush." "Nanu, we'll speak Latin so that you're not left out," the goddess said gently, reaching over and stroking the Egyptian girl's thigh. "We were asking Rebecca if she wanted to come and teach with us soon, instead of staying where she is." Nanu considered and then looked at Becky. "Mistress, I think you're very smart, but I'd think you were very stupid if you didn't take this offer. And take M-ark with you, maybe it'll make him less stupid." "I guess that settles it," Becky sighed, shaking her head. "I can't refute those points." "This Mark of yours sounds like a real charmer," Karen teased, finally sitting up and then clambering off Becky. She moved aside while her former student sat upright, rotating her neck and stretching her shoulders. "He must be a demon in the sack if you're willing to put up with his apparent lack of intelligence." "He's not stupid, he's just; he doesn't find applying his brain power all that agreeable, except to get himself out of trouble," Becky explained. "As for him being a demon in the sack, he's not bad, but; well, I'd been going through a dry spell when this all happened." "There is no excuse whatsoever for you to be going through a dry spell, young lady," Mike told her, sitting up and still keeping Nanu in his lap. But she squeaked when he turned her around, still nailed to him by his cock, which felt like it was battering her rib cage from below. Her eyes were wide as she just sat and listened. "You're every bit as attractive as you are intelligent, Rebecca, so if you're experiencing a dearth of sex, that's just you being difficult." "It's hard to find partners who measure up," Becky grumped. "Except for Nanu, of course." Nanu sniffed and nodded righteously, happy to be included in whatever the fuck they were all talking about. She was used to being ignored as a slave, she had no intention of being ignored now that she was a free woman. "You'll come to the housewarmings, yes?" Karen asked. "The third and the fourth weekends of this month." "You're having two housewarmings?" Becky asked. "Why two?" "One is the official housewarming, where I take over as head of the Blackwell elder line and its operations," Karen replied. "The one the following weekend is of a more fun and; well, risqué nature. The invite list for that is much more select. You and Nanu simply must come to both." Becky turned her head to look at Nanu. "Did you understand all that, my love?" Nanu thought about it. "Karen is becoming Mistress of this palace and there are two celebrations, one official, and one that is; naughty. She wants us to come to both." She leaned forward toward Becky now, her look an imploring one. "Can we please, Mistress?" "Of course we can!" Becky laughed gaily. "I wouldn't miss this for all the gold on earth!" More joyous laughter, and they all embraced one another, finding partners and beginning the lovemaking again. Another hour later, the Byron Lounge. "I'm really hoping you like this," Becky said as she poured the wine into her host's glasses. Mike and Karen were sitting on a large chesterfield together while Becky and Nanu were in a smaller loveseat across from them. The table the glasses were on was in the center. "You'll probably find it very unique." "It's potent, I can already tell," Karen remarked, watching her student pour. "The nose is quite powerful from here." "Interesting color for a white wine, too," Mike added, noting the distinct amber tint to the liquid. His wife was right, it was strong. It almost stung the olfactory senses and poured like a syrup. Even Madeira wines were lighter than this. The maderizing process must have been unusually acute. Becky handed each of her companions a glass and then sat down next to Nanu. The three women all looked at Mike, expecting him to lead the toast. He nodded and held up his glass. "Dignitas amicorum pie zeses vivas." Karen nodded and repeated the toast, but in English, the only time Nanu ever considered the language divine and lovely. "Worthy among your friends! Drink that you may live. May you live." The bouquet was sharp, certainly, and Mike guessed the alcohol content was well north of fifteen percent. The wine was clearly meant to be sweet, but the robust body was definitive. This wine must have been aged longer than Becky had been alive. Where had she gotten it from? He glanced over at his wife, who had an even more acute nose and sense of taste than he did, and she was examining her glass quietly. Karen was rolling it around inside her mouth quietly, letting it play over her refined palate. Her eyes caught his, and they knew what the other was thinking. Becky and Nanu watched quietly. It was always fascinating to Becky how these two operated. "That's an Aglianico grape, I'm sure of it, even though I have never had one quite like that," Karen mused. "It's been aged in clay," Mike agreed, nodding. "For a long time. The hangovers must be murder." They both looked at Becky, who smiled hopefully. She wanted them to like it, but also hoped they wouldn't ask more questions she couldn't answer. She was doing her best. "Rebecca, I'd like to have Jordan and Tatyana try this, may I call them in?" Mike asked. She nodded and he bipped his smartwatch, asking the former seneschal of Blackwell Manor and its current one to join them. They came in together some minutes later, while Mike and Karen were still discussing the wine. "You rang, my friend?" Jordan asked, while Tatyana nodded her head respectfully. Jordan saw the bottles on the table, noting the amber color. "Is that a Malvazia wine? Very strong, I can feel it tickling my nose from here." "With Rebecca's permission, we would like for you two to try this," Karen suggested, standing and walking over to a small cupboard from which she retrieved two more glasses. "It's quite unlike anything either Michael or I have tried, and I thought we had a very broad palate by this point." Karen poured two small glasses and brought them over to the pair. Jordan, who had been the Blackwell estate sommelier for decades, and Tatyana, its current sommelier, both examined the amber libation curiously. Jordan put the cup to his lips and sipped it. Tatyana did as well, the only reaction from her being her eyes narrowing slightly. "That is very unique, I must say," the older man said finally. "It reminds me a Sangiovese in some ways, but; more primal somehow?" "It is an Italian wine, I think," Tatyana added. "But unlike any I have tried before." "It's what I imagine a Falernian wine would be like, if the genuine article thing still existed," Karen posited. "But those methods are lost. We only know them from poetry and accounts of Roman historians, such as Galen and Pliny. This is; wondrous to try." Becky sighed slightly, relaxing. She was so worried about running into time lock that it was a relief she'd managed to let them actually taste the wine. The profs knew something was up, that she couldn't help them, and they would just have to figure out as much as they could on their own. Was she meant to have done this? Was it Fating? She banished the thought from her head, she would drive herself crazy. She was here to have fun with the two people who had made her who she was, and to share that joy with Nanu. To her delight, Nanu seemed to be acclimating well, even if she was in awe and fear of these 'gods'. Mike looked at Becky now. "This must have cost you a pretty penny, something this unique." Becky smiled. "I can manage more, if you want. As many bottles as you like. Just don't ask how or why." "Fair enough," Karen said, looking over at her husband. "And we just found our drink of choice for that toga party we discussed." Mike laughed and Becky giggled. Poor Nanu. She escapes slavery from Imperial Rome, only to end up in a time period where dressing like the patricians who enslaved her was the height of chic at a party. Rome was clearly the eternal city in more ways than one. And this one time, wining about it was a good thing. Later that afternoon. "Mistress, look at all these men," Nanu said quietly, as if the portraits and busts they were walking by could hear her. She could've sworn some of them were staring right at her, their eyes following her movements. "They are all rather frightening to me." Becky nodded as she walked hand-in-hand with Nanu down the Hall of Ancestors. "I remember the first time I saw them, my love, and they intimidated me as well. They are the ancestors of my professor, going back almost a thousand years." Nanu seemed rather surprised, and a little wary. "They're all gods?" Shit, how do I explain this without breaking her mind? Becky wondered rather wearily. "They all have the same hair like the god, maybe lighter, and the eyes," Nanu observed, still speaking quietly, so that the numerous men didn't hear her. "I can't tell if they're as big as he is." Okay, extra complication there as well. "No, my love, they are the ancestors of Karen," Becky explained, knowing this wasn't going to get easier. That revelation gave Nanu paused. She stopped and looked up at Becky now, almost frowning. "But they look like him, not her. They have the same straw hair and the eyes the color of the sea." She looked down at the ground now as she tried to parse out what her Mistress was telling her. "But her eyes are the color of his hair; maybe they are brother and sister?" Now Becky's eyes widened. "Well, if Iupiter and Iuno were brother and sister but also husband and wife, why can't these two be?" the Egyptian girl reasoned. "They gave birth to all the gods. But; where are these gods now?" She gestured broadly at the hallway and the gallery of busts and portraits. "Nanu, I; I don't know," Becky confessed, trying not to falter in explaining. "I've never met them, honestly. I met the father of Karen, that was it." She pointed to an imposing portrait of Jonathon Blackwell, Karen's father, which hung on the wall not far from them. "And where is that god now?" Nanu asked. Becky hadn't done herself any favors by mentioning she'd met other 'gods'. She tried distraction now, pointing at a large open space nearby on the wall. "Look, that is where the portrait of Karen will go, once she is officially head of her fa; of the pantheon." Well done, Fischer. Nanu looked at the empty space. "So the goddess will be the supreme ruler? What of the god? She seems to obey him, why will he not be up there?" This was getting harder and harder. Becky squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think of a remotely plausible answer. What a rotten moment for time lock to not interfere. "He is from a different family of gods, my love," she said finally, giving up. She didn't have the mental strength to overcome Nanu's fantasies. "A line of mighty ones, but that doesn't mean that she won't rule her own family. She may obey him, but she is their leader." It was true, just massively out of context. "So we are invited to the festival that sees her become ruler?" Nanu asked in wonder. "We are very important, aren't we?" It was finally a question Becky could answer honestly. She smiled and caressed the younger girl's cheek. "Yes, my love. We are very important to them. That's why they want us there." "What does the goddess' name means, Mistress?" queried Nanu. "Karen. It is so unusual to me." Another smile. Becky knew this tidbit, because she had laughed with her mentor about it so many times over the years they'd known one another. "Her names means 'Purity', my dear." Another wry face from Nanu. "But she fucks like Venus, Mistress. I'm not sure 'pure' is the best way to describe her." Becky restrained a giggle. "And the god? What does his name mean?" Becky happened to know that one as well, since the name was common enough. "His name means 'godlike', or 'like unto a god'." "Well at least that one makes sense," Nanu admitted. They continued walking, with Nanu gaping at just about everything. Mike and Karen were seeing to a small matter, and had suggested that Becky take Nanu for a stroll around the estate. Becky had to think about what might catch her attention, and what she'd even be able to understand. She'd already shown Nanu the service elevator, and the young woman was stunned how the tiny room could bring her to different places at the simple push of a button. Food always interested Nanu, but if they were staying for dinner, she could keep the little glutton out of the chef's way for a few hours. Glenda showed them the garage, with all the exotic and rare cars. Nanu seemed especially taken with the huge jeep and the bright red Countach. They found Ari in what was apparently an arcade (rich people, go figure!), and they watched while he played Street Fighter IV. Nanu looked on in fascination as Ari controlled the little man inside the box, making him beat up another little person. Before she got overstimulated and bloodthirsty (Becky was beginning to suspect that violence and sexual arousal were quite mated in Nanu's psyche), they went to find something else to look at. Soon, they found themselves in the compassion greenhouse. The rather pungent odor hit them the moment they opened the door. Nanu wrinkled her nose and pinched it shut with her fingers. "They grow asterion, Mistress?" she asked, her voice sounding funny before she was keeping her nose pinched shut. "I remember it from the house of my Flavian masters. We made ropes and rugs with it. They would bake the seeds into cakes. The cakes made me feel tired." Becky nodded. "It's a recreational substance in my time. They grow all sorts of things here, some of which will be very new to you." "I will get tired if we stay in here," Nanu said. "Just from the smell of the plants." Tempting, Becky thought, but ultimately decided against it. There was still lots to do, after all. They toured some of the other greenhouses before heading back into the Manor. In the foyer, they ran into two young women. Becky stepped up to greet them. "Hi, I'm Becky, this is Nanu," she said, shaking their hands. The rather buxom brunette seemed very pleasant, although Becky could already tell she was a bit of a space cadet. The other one, a shorter girl with honey-blonde hair in a pixie cut, was lean and athletic, her hazel eyes observing everything. "Hi, I'm Jeanie," the brunette said cheerfully before looking at Nanu. "Oh, wow, look how pretty you are! I'll bet you're a big hit with all the boys, aren't you?" She bent her knees slightly, resting her hands on them so she was closer to Nanu's eye level. "And what grade are you in?" Becky restrained a giggle-snort, declining to translate for Nanu. The Egyptian girl looked up at her, a rather confused expression on her face. "What's the stupid girl asking me?" she wondered. "She just said you're very pretty and all the boys must love you," Becky selectively answered. "Well, she's right about that, at least, so maybe she's not completely stupid," Nanu sniffed. "Sorry, Jeanie," Becky said, turning her attention back to her new associate. "Nanu doesn't speak English, we speak Latin to one another. So unless you speak it too, I'll have to translate for you." "Oh, yeah, no," Jeanie replied, shaking her head. "Fre'n' me barely speak English, so I guess you're on duty for us with the Latin stuff." "Hey now," the pixie-haired girl said, giving Jeanie a look before also stepping forward. She was wearing some chinos and a tank top, her jacket thrown over her shoulder. She shook Becky's hand. "Hello, I am Freja. We have been hearing about you both, I am honored." She smiled at Nanu now. "I am happy to meet you, Nanu." Becky translated, but Nanu didn't seem to hear what she was saying, since she was focused on Freja. The Danish girl was not much taller than her, but also had tiny tits, barely worth mentioning. She was smirking as Freja put out her hand, and instead of shaking it, she simply put her hands on her hips and pushed her chest forward slightly, thrusting out her tits. Freja faltered somewhat at the sight of them on display like that. "Anyhows," Freja said, turning her attention back to Becky, even if her wife was still staring at Nanu's chest. For a tiny girl, she had a huge rack. "Jeanette is my wife, we are pleased to be making your acquaintances. You ams staying for dinner?" Becky nodded, ignoring the fact that Nanu was turning slowly left and right, showing off her bust in profile. "The profs convinced me to come work as a Physics teacher at the uni. Do you two go there?" "Yes," Freja confirmed. "Jeanette is in Health and Nutrition Sciences, and I ams at the Skule." "Ooh, an engineer," Becky breathed, smiling. "Love it! You'll probs end up building a lot of the equipment I need in order to; Nanu, stop that, you brat!" She nudged the smaller woman with her hip since Nanu was cupping her tits and squishing them together. Either one of her tits was much bigger than both of Freja's, and clearly the girl was self-conscious about it. This was no doubt some leftover competition and survival trait in Nanu, finding advantage in whatever form it came. Given how she'd been mocked the other night at the bar, maybe she shouldn't be surprised. Still, she couldn't let her behave that way. "Jeanie, honey," she said, smiling at the other half of the married couple. "Would you mind taking Nanu and finding her a bathroom? I want to pick your wife's brain about something with engineering." "Oh, a hundred p," the brunette said, nodding and taking Nanu by the hand. "How'd you say 'Let's go pee' in Latin?" Becky couldn't believe she was saying this, but obliged. "Eamus mingere." "C'mon, Nanu," Jeanie said to the confused Egyptian girl, leading her off. "Eat a moose lingerie." "Even for her, that was nowhere near the close," Freja sighed as she walked along with Becky now. "I just wanted to get Nanu away from you, she gets competitive," Becky said. "Sorry about that. She was raised as a slave, so she has a survival mode about not being the smallest and weakest." "And my tits, they are smallest and weakest," the Danish girl muttered. "Oh, I think they suit you just fine," Becky said helpfully, taking Freja's hand and giving it a squeeze. "'sides, I kinda want to get a look at the rest of you without Nanu around, you look pretty muscular." Freja smiled. "I works out a lot, I guess. I played fodbold, your soccer, and also field hockey. I do some martial arts as well." "Ooh, tell me!" Becky said, pulling Freja into an unused lounge. "Tell me what you take and I'll tell you what I practice." Freja put down her coat and stood there, letting Becky see her body, although she still had her clothes on. Her shoulder muscles were obvious, but she lifted her tank top enough to show up her segmented and rock-hard abs. "I ams having a black belt in Grace Jujutsu, as well as Kenpo, and I also know Fujian White Crane. What do you practice?" "Krav Maga," Becky replied, lifting her own shirt enough to show off her smooth, firm midsection to her new friend. "Started quite a few years ago, mostly to blow off any sexual frustration, and to deal with guys who get too handsy, you know?" Freja smiled and nodded. "I believe you, for you are very well sexy-built. But we should spar, I would love to try myself against your Krav Maga." "I would love that too, Freja," Becky purred, her smile becoming sensual. "Win or lose, gonna love it. But haven't you tried sparring with the big man before?" "Once," Freja said, shaking her head. "He literally squashed me like a bug. I lasted three seconds and he just squashed me." Becky giggled. "He was the one who began teaching me Krav Maga, and every time I spar with him, I get squashed too. I think of them as sex injuries, you know?" Freja laughed. "Jeanette and I, we fuck the profs occasionally, so yes, I understand. We are lovers to them, and to their son and his wife, Karen's younger sister, Alexandra." "They were telling me about that whole arrangement, but I'm gonna need time to sort it out," Becky admitted. "It sounds like it was a helluva year." "I met my wife and married her because of Alex and Alexandra," Freja said, shucking her tank top now and just leaving her tits exposed. She didn't mind. "And what I can guarantee you, Rebecca, is that when you see Alex and Alexandra together, it will make you very happy." "Honey, I don't doubt that one bit," Becky said, pulling her own shirt off and then unhooking her bra. In a bathroom down the way. "See, this is pretty nice, right?" Jeanie said, sitting on the ornate but comfy chair, her chin on her hand while she looked at Nanu, who was simply sitting on the toilet with her pants around her ankles. She'd already managed to go pee, but apparently this stupid girl hadn't noticed and was still talking to her. "Li'l bit of girl bonding time, right?" "You really are dumb, aren't you?" Nanu said, trying to keep the snide tone out of her voice, in case the stupid girl tattled on her to Mistress. "I'm done going piss, now what?" "Oh, I've got an idea," Jeanie said rather eagerly. She pulled her shirt over her head, and then quickly undid her bra, letting her tits fall out. Nanu's eyes widened for a moment as she stared. They weren't the largest she'd ever seen, the goddess' were certainly bigger, and her Mistress' probably were too. But this dumb girl wore them well, and she clearly didn't mind showing them off at a moment's notice. "Now show me yours," Jeanie said, pointing at Nanu's shirt. The Egyptian girl shrugged and peeled off her shirt, and the stupid bra thing underneath, leaving her as exposed as her companion. Jeanie nodded approvingly as she assessed Nanu's tits. "Nice, we can have a lot of fun with those," Jeanie said, getting up and coming to kneel in front of Nanu now. She put her hands on Nanu's tits and fondled them, feeling around and giving them a good squeeze. "Yeah, these're primo, babe. Well done." Nanu didn't have a damn clue what the dunce was saying, but her tone indicated she liked Nanu's tits, and as a result, Nanu was getting groped. She didn't object at all. "Mind if I?" Jeanie asked, not waiting for an answer before leaning in and starting to swirl her tongue around one of her new friend's nipples. Nanu shivered and gasped, decidedly not objecting to this treatment. She hadn't been fucked in over an hour, so this was a good start. She reached forward and groped the brunette's big tits, liking how heavy they felt in her hand. She could feel herself getting wet, and wanted to do things with this girl now. "Hmm, new and better idea;” Jeanie said, pulling back and standing up long enough to go over to a closet and pulling out a large, plush towel. She remembered they were in there after her unfortunate encounter a few weeks earlier with the neighbor kid, who turned out to be necrotic, or narcosomic, or something. She laid the towel out on the marble floor, and then smiled at Nanu, patting the towel and indicating she should lie down. Nanu got off the toilet and laid down on her back as instructed, looking up at the dumb girl. Jeanie smiled and crawled partially over the smaller girl, her tits now hovering over Nanu's face, the nipples touching her nose. She eased down some more until Nanu could get one of the nipples in her mouth easily. Nanu began licking, tonguing and sucking readily. "Hmm, Jeanie for the win with the good ideas," the larger girl sighed, now craning down and beginning to suck and lick on Nanu's ample tits, the two of them losing themselves in the moment. Neither would feel the need to come up for air any time soon. Back in the other room. Becky grunted and strained, lying on her back and hands flexing against the floor. She was pushing with her hamstrings and her ass muscles, sweat streaming now from her nearly naked form. All she was wearing were her thong panties, and it still felt like she had too much on. Freja was lying opposite her, also just in her thong. They both had one leg in the air, locked against each near the ankle, and they were pushing hard, trying to overpower one another. It had been some time since Becky had engaged in a good bout of (the unfortunately named) Indian leg wrestling. Becky gasped and groaned, wondering if Freja was in as much discomfort as she was. She had the height advantage, a longer leg, so presumably more leverage, but Freja was very strong, her body a little bundle of muscle, which Becky had not appreciated until they'd decided on this little contest and they both stripped down. Whatever she lacked in the tits department, Freja made up for in the powerful ass department. Becky wouldn't be surprised if the little Danish girl could crack walnuts open between those cheeks. She heard Freja moan, taking heart that her opponent was working as hard as she was, although they remained in a deadlock at this point. If she couldn't overpower Freja, she'd simply have to hope to outlast her, until Freja's muscles were jelly and she gave up. They hadn't really decided on what the prize was for whoever won, but she held no doubt they'd both enjoy it. "Uh, fuck;” Freja rasped, her leg trembling every bit as much as Becky's. "You ams strong, like Alexandra or Andrea." "I'll take that; as a compliment;” Becky panted, her warm skin slick against the floor. She hoped she didn't stain the marble, she'd have a hard time explaining that to the profs. "You're really damn strong too, babe;” After almost two more minutes of straining and groaning, the strength of both women gave out at the exact same moment. Their legs bent and collapsed down, both of them breathing heavily, supremely tired from the contest. They slowly rolled onto their sides, almost going fetal as they tried to catch their breath. "That was; very difficult;” Freja managed to say. "I'm not gonna like walking on that leg for a week," Becky replied, thinking about the amount of grapefruit juice she was going to be drinking to deal with the lactic acid buildup in her leg and ass muscles. She hoped she wouldn't have to chase Nanu anywhere. "I guess it was a tie?" "Next time, we will make it a sexfight," Freja breathed, thinking she'd need a forklift to get her upright. "That will be easier on my body." "You have a deal, Fre;” Becky said wearily, hoping the profs didn't find her like this. Thankfully, the muscle pains subsided relatively quickly and easily, even if she knew she was going to be sore tomorrow. She found Nanu with Jeanie, and they both seemed much more refreshed and cheerful than her and Freja. She had a sneaking suspicion as to why. Nanu hadn't been in Freja's presence more than three seconds before she thrust her chest forward again, making sure the Danish girl knew who the mayor of Titty-Town was, even if she wasn't quite so blatant about it this time. They'd all gone to the kitchen so that Becky and Freja could rehydrate themselves a little. Freja was just drinking bicarbonate in water, whereas Theresa supplied Becky with her grapefruit juice. Nanu and Jeanie were drinking milk, and the two girls giggled at one another while they downed their glasses. Jeanie and Freja excused themselves, needing to get back to their condo. Jeanie hugged Nanu, making sure they squished their tits together, then did the same with Becky, although perhaps not quite as familiarly. Freja hugged Becky and then took a chance on hugging Nanu to say goodbye. Nanu accepted the hug, but made sure she pressed her tits right into Freja's reminding her who was in charge. Freja sighed, and they made their exit. "Miss Fischer, Mr. and Mrs. DeBourne will meet you in the Spencer Study now," Tatyana said, entering the room and nodding. "They apologize for the delay, things are just rather busy right now." "Well, what with finals coming, and the big ol' housewarmings, I'm not surprised," Becky said cheerfully, taking Nanu's hand and allowing Tatyana to take them to the aforementioned Spencer Study. Inside, Mike and Karen were sitting on a long, ornate chesterfield. Becky strolled in and sat down on a loveseat just across from them, joined by Nanu. Once again, the Egyptian girl seemed to be keeping her eyes averted. "I hope you don't mind, Rebecca, I thought we might continue having more of your delightful wine," Karen said, pouring some glasses. "I'm glad you like it, and especially glad that you aren't asking questions," Becky answered, relieved that her mentors seemed to genuinely understand her predicament, even if they couldn't understand her predicament. "I promise, I'll scare up some more for you." They were happily discussing Becky's future employment at the university, with Mike and Karen almost teasing her with tempting tidbits about all the latest research into quantum crystallography. Nanu listened quietly, understanding nothing, but knowing that whatever was being discussed was important. It was about making her Mistress happy, and nothing was more important to her than that. Well, getting fucked was as important, but clearly she could have both, so why quibble? Soon enough, they were joined by another person, whom Becky and Nanu turned to meet. A tall, young, and incredibly handsome blond man strolled in casually, wearing an infectious grin that Becky would recognize anywhere, even if she hadn't met him some years ago. He was so very obviously a DeBourne. Nanu's eyes went wide again, and she trembled in fear. "There you are, child-mine," Karen said as Alex walked into the study. "You remember Miss Fischer, yes?" "Of course," he said, smiling genially as he walked over to where the guest was sitting with another, smaller and exotic-looking girl. She stood up and he shook her hand, which was firm, friendly, and warm. A definite turn-on. "It's good to see you again, Ms. Fischer." "Oh, God, call me Becky, please," she said, trying to not blatantly ogle her professors' son. He was so much like Mike, only distilled into a more human-sized form, with enchanting electric blue eyes that radiated humor. But there was also a cool aloofness beneath, if he cared to let it be seen, and that was something he got from his regal mother. "You've grown up, Alex, and you were a lady-killer when you were just thirteen, I recall." "Well, everyone kept sayin' you were too old for me, so I had a wait a few years," he quipped, making her laugh. "Who's your friend, Becks?" Becky shook her head, since his new name for her reminded her of Mark. Still, it gave her a tingle when Alex said it, so she didn't exactly mind. He was more than free to keep calling her that. "Alex, this is Nanu. She's staying with me for the foreseeable future." Alex was going to shake Nanu's hand, but instead she slipped down to her knees, staring up at him in reverent awe before dropping her head to look at the floor. She began speaking quietly, her voice little more than a mumble. Alex raised an eyebrow before glancing over at his mother and father, who were still sitting on the large chesterfield. "Is she speaking Coptic? That's Coptic, isn't it? I don't speak that one yet." "Maybe if you were an elder of the church and showed a little more liturgical piety," Karen sniffed, holding her wine glass as she watched and assessed her son and his reactions. "Nanu is from very small-town Egypt, but she speaks Imperial Latin." Becky watched on, intrigued as he looked down at her again. "Please get up;” he instructed in the language of Imperial Rome. Nanu stood, but kept her eyes averted, even while he was addressing her. He smiled at her. "Nanu, I'm Alex. My full name is Alexander." She dared to look up at him again. He was a head, shoulders, and half a chest taller than her. She barely cleared his dad's abdomen. But she was certainly stacked for such a small girl. She had the build of a dancer, except with big tits. "The conqueror is named after you," she said in a hushed tone. "Alexander;” Alex looked back at his parents and Becky. "Does she think I'm a god? She's clearly not Muslim or Syriac Christian." "We haven't quite figured out what she makes of us," Mike replied, his deep voice from behind her making Nanu almost shiver and squeeze her eyes shut. This had been quite the day for her, and she'd met three gods now. How many people could say that? "Well, better you guys spend time thinkin' about it than me," Alex concluded, kneeling down so that he was eye-level with Nanu, taking her hands and smiling. She trembled at the touch. "Welcome to my home, Nanu;” he said cheerfully. She looked like she might faint. Her heart was thundering in her chest again, and she felt dizzy. "I hear you're due to get married, Alex," Becky mentioned, taking the pressure off Nanu before she just expired right there on the Persian rug. "Your aunt?" "Yep," Alex said, rising while gesturing for Becky and Nanu to sit again, which they did, Nanu somewhat unsteadily. Becky gave her some water while Alex eased himself onto the chesterfield next to Becky. Half a second later, Valentina brought in more drinks. Becky smirked at the steaming blue beverage waiting for Alex. Apparently it was some nerdy thing called a 'Romulan Ale'. "Mom's sister that I'm named after. "I take it you've heard the whole crazy story?" "Crazy stories seem to be the theme of this past year," Becky agreed. "Damned if I can get into mine, though. I am looking forward to meeting her as well, though. Your mom and dad have mentioned her over the years, the fact that she was missing from your lives. She and your grandmother were gone by the time I knew them." "Speaking of my baby sister, would you happen to know her whereabouts?" Karen asked, looking at her son. "She went with Aunt Jen to the pub while I was in class," he replied, nodding to Val in approval as he tried his drink. "Aunt Jen had a bunch a followers, so she took them all for a drink." "Meaning it'll somehow magically happen on my tab," Karen muttered while Mike patted her shoulder. "When was that?" "Alexa only had a half day, so they're probably almost home by now," he replied. "Aunt Jen really likes Theresa's coq au vin." He looked at Becky and Nanu now. "You two staying for dinner? Theresa makes killer food." "Well, your chef's bologna hasn't had any disastrous effects on Nanu's digestive tract, so I assume fresh poultry ought to be fine," Becky mused. "Nitrates and preservatives are the enemy, eh?" the young man laughed, once again reminding Becky of his father and giving her a tingle. They finished their drinks and Mike and Karen agreed to take them on a small tour. Becky was rather interested in the energy-saving measures, like the solar panels and the thermochromic windows. They were all touring the temperate produce greenhouse (called the 'Orangerie') some while later when two people joined them. "We're back, and we're not even hammered," the tall, gorgeous blonde chimed musically, the air of the room lightening with her presence. Even the resident butterflies of the Orangerie seemed to dance about when she was near them. She walked right up to Becky and hugged her. "You must be Becky! I've heard a lot about you." "I've heard a lot about you too, but I never would've believed anyone could be as stacked as your older sister," Becky replied, happily returning the squishy hug. "Let me introduce Nanu. Unless you speak Coptic, you'll need to speak Latin to her." "Hi, Nanu!" Alex almost sang as she knelt and hugged the shorter girl. Nanu's eyes looked like they might just spring out of her head before she swooned, not even having a chance to get on her knees and avert her eyes. "I'm Alexa!" "A; leks...a;” the Egyptian girl murmured as the tall, blonde goddess finally released her. She didn't go to her knees, she simply gazed at Alexa in quiet awe. This had been quite a day for her, even by her standards recently. "And I'm Jenny, lovey," the countess said, walking over and giving Becky a hug. "Chuffed to have you around. Have the lord and lady of the manor made their proposal to you yet?" "They have, and I've accepted, countess," Becky replied, enjoying yet another squishy, sexy hug. She had no doubt she'd end up fucking these two women eventually, if not Alex. She'd never had sex with a countess before, just a French noblewoman that she was reasonably certain was her own ancestor. "I could use the pay upgrade, certainly. Gotta pay for the classes to keep this bod toned somehow." "Delighted to hear it," Jenny said cheerfully, the two women still holding one another by the waist as they smiled at each other. Mike and Karen looked on, trying not to smirk. "And you're quite lovely, my dear. Certainly it won't hurt to' "Oh my gosh;” Alexa breathed, looking at the floor as an epiphany shivered through her. She looked up at Becky and Jenny. "We've gotta do that." "Do what, darling?" Jenny asked, looking at her but still holding Becky, their hips touching. "Well, look at us," Alexa said, coming over and inserting herself into the small hug, which was now a three-way. "Three tall, gorgeous blondes; we need to form a clique, or a union or something." "I've never belonged to a union," Jenny mused. "I've never not belonged to a union," Becky added. "Don't think I've been in a clique, though." "Yeah, but where's this ever happen?" Alexa said, pointing at each of them in turn. "Three natural blonde goddesses all together, none of us made of plastic or silicone; we're the world's most awesome and exclusive clique." "A Trinity," Alex added rather unhelpfully. "Yes!" Alexa said loudly, turning and pointing at Alex in excitement while Karen favored her son with a sour look for encouraging this. "The Trinity! That's it exactly!" She took Becky and Jenny by the hands and began pulling them out of the Orangerie, confusing the butterflies. "C'mon! We've gotta go take pics to celebrate our formation;” "Take care of Nanu for me," Becky called back, getting pulled along in Alexa's wake, as was the countess. The girl was frighteningly strong when she was exited; Becky would be amazed if even Andrea was stronger than Alexa. "Feed her or something', that'll keep her occupied." Nanu watched her Mistress disappear with the golden-haired goddess with the giant tits, along with the other woman. Seconds later, the three gods she was left with all turned to look down at her. She stared back at them awkwardly for a moment before opening her mouth and pointing at her gullet, then licking her lips and rubbing her belly. She looks like Nibbles the Mouse from those old Tom and Jerry cartoons when she does that," Alex observed. "Well, let's go see if Theresa can scare up some more bologna for her," the golden-eyed goddess named Karen mused, holding out her hand for the Nanu to take. "Ba-lo;” Nanu said eagerly as she followed Karen out of the Orangerie. "Ba-lo;” Soon enough she'd be eating again, and hopefully someone would fuck her. She hadn't anticipated anything like this happening to her, and she owed it all to her Mistress and the god-machine. It was a good day to be Nanu Tehemet. A study on the third floor. "Okay, so," Alexa began, herding the two women into the room and then closing the door for privacy. "This is gonna be awesome, the world's most elite clique." "It would be nice to belong to something Kat cannot dominate," Jenny mused, nodding. "What does our clique do?" "Just exist to show off how wonderful it is to be a blonde goddess," Alexa reasoned, rubbing her hands together and then assessing them both for a moment. "I mean, we're gotta spread the truth, right?" "Good enough for me," Becky declared readily, watching Alexa go over to a closet and pull out an expensive-looking camera and tripod. "Lotsa pics in various states of dress and undress?" &l

The Deadcast's overstuffed season finale unpacks Blues For Allah's oft-misunderstood title track, the unlikely story of its album art, & the remarkable coalition that manifested the Dead's September 1975 Golden Gate Park show, officially the New Age Bio-Centennial Unity Fair.Guests: David Lemieux, Ron Rakow, Al Teller, Ned Lagin, Steve Brown, Bill McCarthy, Larry Weissman, Gary Lambert, Ed Perlstein, Joan Miller, Geoff Gould, Dan Hanklein, Raymond Foye, Nicholas Meriwether, Shaugn O'Donnell, Chadwick Jenkins, Keith EatonSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The Deadcast explores Bobby Weir's guitar étude, “Sage and Spirit,” speaking with one of the song's namesakes, Sage Scully, before taking an extended trip to legendary Dead show at the Great American Music Hall in August 1975, where the song received its only full live performance.Guests: David Lemieux, Donna Jean Godchaux MacKay, Sage Scully, Ron Rakow, Al Teller, Steve Brown, Roger Lewis, Lee Brenkman, Steve Schuster, Gary Lambert, Deb Trist, Ed Perlstein, Danno Henklein, Joan Miller, Steve Silberman, Michael Parrish, Keith Eaton, Shaugn O'Donnell, Benny LanderSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

⭐Ramrod (1947) - Western Film Noir Gunsmoke Meets Shadows Day 03 NOIRvember Celebration⭐

From Seaton Smith: ...is wonderful https://www.comedydynamics.com/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

We explore how the dreamy delicacy of Crazy Fingers came about at a time of great tumult in Grateful Dead history, with visits from new record company boss Al Teller of United Artists and Seastones composer Ned Lagin, plus a stop at Winterland for the Bob Fried Memorial Boogie.Guests: David Lemieux, Al Teller, Ron Rakow, Ned Lagin, Gary Lambert, Michael Parrish, Danno Henklein, Ed Perlstein, Geoff Gould, Jay Kerley, Blair Jackson, Shaugn O'Donnell, Chadwick Jenkins, Christopher Coffman, Nicholas MeriwetherSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Bobby Weir & John Perry Barlow's classic “The Music Never Stopped” came into being when the music was briefly in danger of stopping, the song transforming from live jam to final form as the Dead struggled to solve the financial difficulties that came with a retirement from the road.Guests: David Lemieux, Ron Rakow, Steven Schuster, Steve Silberman, Sean Howe, Shaugn O'Donnell, Chadwick Jenkins, Christopher Coffman, Graeme Boone, Eric Lindquist, Benny LanderSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The Deadcast unpacks the two-part extra-heady “King Solomon's Marbles”/'Stronger Than Dirt or Milkin' the Turkey,” using the instrumental to get into the Dead's 1975 dalliances with holography, as well as Phil Lesh's other unfinished pieces from Blues For Allah.Guests: David Lemieux, Ned Lagin, Ron Rakow, Eugene Dolgoff, Michael Parrish, Ed Perlstein, Keith Eaton, Nicholas G. Meriwether, Shaugn O'Donnell, Chadwick JenkinsSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The Deadcast examines how Franklin's Tower bucked every trend on Blues For Allah to become one of the Dead's all-time classics, including a tape of its studio creation, a look into the multi-tracks, & a rare line-by-line breakdown by lyricist Robert Hunter himself.Guests: David Lemieux, Geoff Gould, Jürgen Fauth, Shaugn O'Donnell, Chadwick Jenkins, Will Backstrom, Max Ritchie, Hannah GrabbensteinSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The Deadcast uses Blues For Allah's complicated instrumental Slipknot! to explore the musical and creative ambiguity the Grateful Dead pursued in early 1975, when there both was and wasn't a Grateful Dead, & their public reemergence at Bill Graham's S.N.A.C.K. benefit that March.Guests: David Lemieux, Ned Lagin, Ron Rakow, Steve Brown, Gary Lambert, Joan Miller, Jay Kerley, Chadwick Jenkins, Shaugn O'Donnell, Melvin BackstromSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The Grateful Deadcast points itself towards 1975 to begin a song-by-song celebration of Blues For Allah's 50th anniversary, loaded with raw session tapes, early lyric drafts, & the story of how the Dead built a new studio, musical language, batch of songs, & LP from the ground up. Guests: David Lemieux, Donna Jean Godchaux-MacKay, Ron Rakow, Stephen Barncard, Ned Lagin, Steve Brown, Gary Lambert, Keith Eaton, Shaugn O'Donnell, Chadwick Jenkins, Matt CampbellSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The Grateful Deadcast visits the set for the Grateful Dead Movie, aka the Dead's five “retirement” shows at Winterland in 1974, with heads who attended. This bonus episode is a re-run of the 2nd half of Deadcast Season 9, episode 8.Guests: Donna Jean Godchaux-MacKay, Ron Rakow, Ned Lagin, David Grisman, , Steve Brown, Richie Pechner, Jerry Pompili, Jim Sullivan, Gary Lambert, Geoff Gould, Joan Brown, Michael Parrish, Corry Arnold, Strider Brown, Jay Kerley, Rita Fiedler, Rene Tinner, Lee Ranaldo, Gregory Barette, Ron Long, Brian AndersonSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Myself and Ramrod in another “WWW” show, where we watch and discuss movies that fall into the categories of either the Weird, the Wonderful and the WTF. In this episode Ramrod picks 1987's Enemy Territory, which has a superb blu-ray release by Arrow Films on 4th August 2025. LIMITED EDITION CONTENTS Brand new restoration from the original 35mm negative by Arrow Films High Definition (1080p) Blu-ray™ presentation Original lossless stereo audio Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing Brand new audio commentary by director Peter Manoogian with film critics Dave Wain and Matty Budrewicz Brand new audio commentary by film scholar Josh Nelson Den of Vampires, a newly filmed interview with cinematographer Ernest Dickerson Giving up the Ghost, a newly filmed interview with actor Gary Frank Theatrical trailer Image gallery Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Laurie Greasley Double-sided foldout poster featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Laurie Greasley Illustrated collector's booklet containing new writing by film critics Paul Lê and Martyn Conterio Thanks for listening and please send any written comments and thoughts HERE.

The Good Ol' Grateful Deadcast is thrilled beyond all audible frequencies to begin its 12th season by welcoming Dan Healy, the Grateful Dead's in-house sound wizard for most of their career, for tales from three decades in pursuit of high and higher fidelity.Guest: Dan HealySee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Enjoying the Ride: On TourThe Deadcast season finale hits shows at 3 legendary venues, exploring Dick Latvala's transformative experience at Red Rocks ‘79, Hollie Rose's tour journal, the wonders of the Alpine Valley parking lot, & when Shakedown Street got its name.Guests: David Lemieux, Jay Kerley, Hollie Rose, Rebecca Adams, Bill Lemke, Phil Garfinkel, Jim Jonze, Tom Ryan, Art Moss, Lisa Hitchcock, David Van Divier, Scott Bauer, Julie Dock, Mobile SteeleSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Myself & Ramrod in the 6th game of Season 2 in our “60 Minutes into” series of shows. We watch 1995's Steel Frontier and make our predictions after watching 1 hour of it. Thanks for listening and please send any written comments and thoughts HERE.

The Deadcast cruises down the eastern seaboard, including stops in Hartford, Hampton, Philadelphia, and Landover, featuring touring tips, another police chase, & a visit to the White House.Guests: David Lemieux, Sam Cutler, Dennis Alpert, Tyler Roy-Hart, David Leopold, John Leopold, Rebecca Adams, Brian Schiff, Gary Lambert, Chris Goodspace, Winslow Colwell, Scott Jones, Chad EylerSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The Deadcast makes a beeline for the northeast, focusing on shows from legendary venues in the Manhattan and Boston areas included on the new Enjoying the Ride box, including ESP experiments, weed smuggling, free jazz titans, multiple police chases, and more.Guests: David Lemieux, Ron Rakow, Sam Cutler, Richie Pechner, Allan Arkush, Ned Lagin, Gary Lambert, Blair Jackson, Stanley Krippner, Rebecca Adams, Johnny Dwork, John Scher, Michael Simmons, Tyler Roy-Hart, Henry K, Howie Levine, Kenny Schiff, Debbie RondeauSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The Deadcast's tour of Enjoying the Ride trucks all the way to the East Bay, exploring beloved venues including the Greek Theater & Kaiser Auditorium, with tales of the Hog Farm's Skeleton Crew & vintage field recordings from Oakland Coliseum Arena's parking lot. Guests: David Lemieux, Ron Rakow, Kevin Schmevin, Mark Pinkus, Blair Jackson, Steve Silberman, Rebecca Adams, David Gans, Johnny Dwork, Tyler Roy-Hart, Steven Bernstein, Robert Nyberg, Chad KroegerSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Myself and Ramrod in another "WWW" show, where we watch and discuss movies that fall into the categories of either the Weird, the Wonderful and the WTF. In this episode I pick a movie that I think falls into all 3 categories (as does Ramrod after watching this for the 1st time): 1975's The Man From Hong Kong. Thanks for listening and please send any written comments and thoughts HERE.

Colin hits the skeevy underbelly of LA in pursuit of cinema's craziest, scariest, most sadistic psycho pimp with the Vice Squad (1982), with the late, great Wings Hauser at his demented best as Ramrod, who spends the night hunting down the call girl (Season Hubley) who set him up. Listen as we spend time learning about pimp sticks, sugar pimps, toe suckers, and profess a surprising love of sleazy movies on this week's exciting episode! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In celebration of the career of Wings Hauser, we're tackling the gritty crime thriller Vice Squad! We talk about the police treatment of sex ring syndicates, the ways this film succeeds in attempting to see both sides of sex work, and the excellent performance of Hauser as Ramrod. We're also drinking Corona's Sunbrew Citrus Cerveza!Approximate timeline0:00-12:00 Intro12:00-20:00 Beer talk20:00-end Vice SquadNext up: Alice, Sweet Alice

The Deadcast begins our virtual tour of the new Enjoying the Ride box, visiting the cradle of the Dead in Palo Alto/Menlo Park (with a detour to visit the Warlocks' earliest shows) before heading to San Francisco with stops at the Fillmore West and Winterland.Guests: Connie Bonner Mosley, Ron Rakow, Ned Lagin, Ron Pietrowski, Tyler Roy-Hart, Les Earnest, Doug Oade, Eric Schwartz, Blair Jackson, Michael Parrish, Dominic Stefano, David LemieuxSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

For the 50th anniversary reissue of Tiger Rose, we explore the lost story of Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia's only full-length studio collaboration, the Dead lyricist's 2nd solo album, produced by Garcia & performed by an all-star cast including Garcia, Mickey Hart, & Donna Jean Godchaux.Guests: Kathy Veda Vaughan Bogert, Mickey Hart, Barry Melton, Ron Rakow, Howie LevineSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

In the 2nd part of the Deadcast's Phil Lesh tribute, we get deep into his singular bass playing with Phil's son & bandmate Grahame, Phish's Mike Gordon, & musicologist Rob Collier, while touring Phil's high adventures with Ned Lagin, radio co-host Gary Lambert, & other friends.Guests: Grahame Lesh, Mike Gordon, Ned Lagin, David Crosby, David Lemieux, Gary Lambert, Rob CollierSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.