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Emptiness.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. I was a bit of a loss what to do as our sexual congress had gone in a totally different direction from what I had foreseen. Brandy seemed physically happy with the outcome yet her mind was conflicted. She slowly slipped to my right side before propping herself up. She didn't look at me. Her vision was locked onto her scattered articles of clothing.Dressing meant us heading back to my place then her having to confront Darius with all that had happened to her; and she'd liked being with me. She felt Darius was going to pierce any fable she created so leaving equated to pain and degradation for her. I believed Darius would punish her for his lousy planning. It was ludicrous to believe Brandy could entrap me.That might have been sadistic back-up plan. He could get one up on me, or blame Brandy for failing at the task he shoved upon her. Darius would beat her up over the failure. Brandy was so infatuated with him, she would willingly accept the fault was hers. His cruelty didn't excuse her stupidity, not in my mind. Still, I reached out and ran my fingers from mid-thigh to her underarm. That tickled so she turned to me and smiled.It was the first genuine sign of affection she'd ever shown me. I kept repeating the motion even after she put her head back on my chest. Brandy followed up her happy murmuring by stroking my cock. That turned into a hand-job. My pleasurable moans led to a blowjob and that graduated to a sixty-nine. I worked over her clit with my lips as I worked my fingers inside her vagina and ass hole.I was positive she'd had some intense anal sex this morning with Darius. Mom's forced enema hadn't helped her sphincter relax much at all. I fit two fingers inside her anus with little effort and, by her reaction, causing her nothing but sexual satisfaction. I admit I got carried away, altering between vaginal/anal intrusions, spanking her ass and unleashing my vitriol.I reminded her she'd treated me like filth beneath her heel, tried to have Darius bust me up, and he had failed, and I knew Darius had sent her to me today. He'd failed again, so had she and because of that I was going to own her ass multiple times before I let her go home. All of that blame and passion excited Brandy to a razor's edge.She was choking down my semen in no time. While she was nursing my cock (we were still '69'ing) back to health, I tore another climax from her. She was wearily working toward my third round when I enforced a bathroom and food break. I let this play out in the reverse of my experience, Mom and Dad.I followed Brandy around, hugging her from behind when she slowed down, or stopped. Initially she didn't know what to make of my snuggling affection though she quickly decided she liked it. She'd often lean back into my embrace. She also decided to open up a little bit. We were eating some Pimento Cheese sandwiches which she made while I poured us two tall glasses of lemonade.‘I like it when you spank my ass,' she mumbled around a mouthful of food. She wasn't being rude. She was giving herself an 'out' if I found her request annoying, or a cause for derision, a misunderstanding of what she'd said. I arched one eyebrow, stepped to her side, cupped her buttocks then gave the left one a sharp smack.‘I like that too,' I nodded hungrily. ‘You were right,' I added. She looked at me with curiosity. ‘You do give a good blowjob. I really liked it.' I didn't really know how to rate her. She was the second girl to ever give me fellatio, but the experience had been good for me. My simple praise put a spark back in her self-confidence.‘I told you I was,' she grinned triumphantly. I stepped up and gave her right buttock a quick slap.‘Don't forget I'm still angry with you,' I met her sultry gaze. A sexy side of her I'd never seen before shone forth. She was mixing fun and intercourse in a way new to her and she was finding the combination enjoyable.Without a doubt, Darius had played mind games with Brandy. My games were on a more direct level. I was still sure she was going to return to being Darius' fuck-slave and for the first time I felt sorry about that.‘What are you thinking about?' Brandy snuggled into me.‘I'm curious why you are still here,' I countered. That put her back into our ugly reality. She should be pushing me to take her back home, but she wasn't. ‘Let's go back to bed.' My offer evaporated her indecision. She took my hand and returned us to the bedroom. I spanked her exquisite ass a few more times on the way.Brandy made it clear what she wanted next. She crawled up to the head of the bed, put one pillow under her breast and a second one beneath her head all the while wiggling her ass in my direction. Lube; in the bedside table. I almost discounted it. Brandy was fairly loose. I still decided to err on the side of caution. I lubed up while she buried her face into a pillow in anticipation of what was to come.My trepidations were justified. Brandy's ass was an overly used tunnel. A few strokes verified that Brandy was only marginally enjoying the event all that much either. Diligence proved to be the most important Word of the Day. A dozen strokes in, Brandy gave a pleased grunt. I decided to alternate five slow, easy strokes followed by three rapid, hard and deep ones.That was the correct choice. Brandy began huffing and panting, thrusting back and giving her ass a clever twisting motion that increased the stimulation for us both. She knew what she was doing while I was a complete novice. I took her instruction and suggestions well, leading up to a thunderous orgasm on her part.Recalling her earlier request for post-climactic care, I took my penetrations nice and slow while she built back up her stamina. I couldn't explain it. Her anal passage was becoming just as snug as her vagina was, a perfect fit for my cock. The movement of my glans upon her back passage was driving her nuts.A few minutes of compassionate union saw Brandy forcing herself onto all fours. The look she gave me over her shoulder expressed an unspoken desire for my assistance. I took a stab at what she wanted by wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her back up to my chest. My guess was almost what she intended. Brandy moved my hands to her breasts.Our height difference kept my kisses to the top of her head. I compensated by mauling her breasts, twirling her nipples and keeping up a rigorous breast play. She loved it. Brandy rocked back on my rod repeatedly, raising up then impaling herself with a downward push. I became absorbed in the sexual moment, losing track of whether this was one more orgasm for Brandy, or two.All I did know was when I finally came for the third time in this marathon coitus session, Brandy screamed like a banshee, shook as if she was having a seizure and then passed out. I couldn't immediately rouse her, so I quick-stepped (on my wobbly legs) to the bathroom, wetted a washcloth and rushed back to her side.I rubbed the cool cloth over her neck and cheeks until she revived. The collision of emotions in her eyes imparted a look I didn't then understand and would never forget. It was starting to get dark, so I recommended a shower before heading back. Brandy's silent depression wasn't something I could understand.She did hug me tight all the way home and made no protest when I snuck an arm around her waist as we went inside. We ran across Anita Turner, the downstairs maid, first.‘Ms. Carson, you need to call your Father,' she informed Brandy. She exhaled deeply, looked to me so I gave her my phone. Big Bob wanted confirmation that she was where she claimed to be.‘Yes Sir,' I stated. ‘We messed around the house for a bit, we have some swords, bows and stuff here; then we went out to the hunting lodge to make sure that it was habitable. You know, in case you, my Dad and my brothers want to go hunting when Deer Season comes around,' I bent the truth.That soothed Brandy's Dad though he did insist Brandy come straight home. She let him know her phone was kaput. I promised to give her a spare my Mom had. As I gave Brandy the phone, I reminded her that her father might check her phone log so she shouldn't make any other calls. I neglected to teach her how to clear that log, I was still fucking with Darius.Mom was sitting on the front porch swing as we stepped out the front door. I was planning on walking her to car because that felt like something a guy should do.‘I told you not to fuck any of my Sons,' Mom taunted Brandy. Her voice shocked us.‘I; ah,' Brandy stammered.‘Mom, is this really the time?' I intervened.‘Yes it is Vlad,' Mom informed me kindly. To Brandy she was less kind, ‘You stupid, insipid tramp. Do you regret doing my boy yet?'‘No,' Brandy protested.‘You will,' Mom chuckled. ‘You will.' I had no idea what she was talking about. Brandy flashed me a concerned look. My face held no answers so we headed to her car in silence. I gave her one unexpected kiss on the lips. She responded with a ravenous French kiss. I remained standing, a prisoner of my uncertainty, as she drove away.‘Mom?' I asked when I got back to the porch. ‘What are you talking about Brandy 'regretting sleeping with me'?'‘Vlad, you are a big boy,' Mom began. ‘You know I like sex, right?' I nodded. ‘Your Dad is the best fuck I've ever had, period, end of statement.'‘It is not just him either,' Mom chortled. ‘All of us Samsonov husband and brides feel that way about our mates. Despite my experience and willpower, I couldn't get away. The first time we had sex, your Dad and I, I knew it was the best cock I'd ever had and ever would have.'‘Gee; thanks, but no thanks for that crumb of information,' I grimaced.‘Vlad, you know I like to get my way in all things,' she made sure she had my attention. ‘I told you one month after that night with your father, I came back to him and have never been with anyone else. That's because after your Dad, all other sex was boring and pointless. I couldn't have an orgasm without your Father's help. It is like that with all the Samsonov's, men and women.'‘That's your Secret Weapon?' I scoffed. ‘Magic Dicks?' Mom laughed at me.‘You'll see. Wait until Wednesday, Thursday at the latest. Brandy's not all that strong-willed. She'll be begging you for a second round. I have no doubt,' Mom smiled knowingly. Why my Mom had finally wander off to fantasy land was my source of worry for the rest of the weekend.The further adventures of the Samsonov boys in Black Racist Tyranny.RetributionSunday was a family outing to Big Bob's for Sunday football. This time, seven other Sheriff's Deputies (with their families) were there as well. Even the scumbag Deputy who had face-fucked Brandy Friday night was there with his wife and three year old daughter. He had this big ole shit-eating grin on his face when his eyes lit on Big Bob's pride and joy.It didn't take Clarence Peterson, that was the mother-fucker's name, long to corner Brandy in a bathroom. The hunters, not realizing they were the hunted, was a running epidemic in this burgh. I made triple sure I didn't fall into any sort of complacency.‘Hey Brandy,' he sneered at my 'supposed girlfriend' as she tried to stand up from the toilet seat. ‘I need a little relief.'‘I don't think; ‘ she mumbled.‘Bitch, I'm not asking you to think,' he grabbed her hair. ‘I want you; ‘‘What?' I stepped into the room, closing the door behind us. ‘Dummy, you want what?'‘If you know what is good for you, you will walk the fuck out of here,' he challenged me.‘Good idea,' I snorted. ‘Why don't I go out to the party, trick that pretty wife of yours into a dark room and face-fuck her? How does that sound, nigger?' Yes, I was a White boy calling a Black cop 'nigger'. I had chosen my culturally bankrupt words carefully with the intent to incite.He stormed my way ready to put me in my place. He was equipped with law enforcement level basic hand-to-hand training. I'd been play-fighting that for half my life. I couldn't openly bruise him. An arm bar fit the bill for keeping in place while I landed punch after punch into his crotch until he was halfway to his knees and crying for his Mamma.‘Now before you decide to turn this misunderstanding into an incident,' I whispered my threat into his ear. ‘You might want to consider Big Bob's new security system and how one of my Brothers is getting a record of what you just pulled (a lie).'‘You came into another man's house and tried to rape his womenfolk,' I cautioned him. ‘How would you like it if someone treated your wife that way?' I could see the complete lack of empathy on his part.‘From here on out, you don't touch Brandy,' I continued.‘As far as I'm concerned, the way you treat any woman is your permission slip to do the same thing to your wife. We might even make you watch, you cock-less piece of shit. Keep it sheathed around anyone but your wife. Got it?'‘Fuck off you bastard,' he spat. Thank the Almighty for that BBC arrogance.I twisted his trapped arm up then planted two steel toed boot kicks into his already tenderized scrotum. He almost passed out from the pain.‘Vlad?' Brandy worried.‘It is okay Brandy,' I smiled at her. ‘Go out and stand by your Daddy. I'll be with you soon enough.'Out she went, leaving me with the asshat.‘Boy,' he hissed through his agony. ‘You are going to get; ‘‘Cool enough,' I shrugged. I leveraged him over to the toilet and shoved his face into the commode. Had he not interrupted Brandy, she would have had time to flush.I let him thrash about a good deal before bringing his face out of the water. He immediately got combative so back in he went. It took four trips to the fetid pool for him to realize he was on the wrong end of police brutality.‘Just so we are clear, Clarence,' I lectured him.‘All I want is some respect and fair treatment. You've crossed Big Bob, my Dad and now me,' I reminded him. ‘In my opinion we've almost balanced accounts. Act like a married man and like someone who swore an oath to serve and protect, everyone. You cross the line again, you can bet we Samsonovs will find out about it.'‘We will assume the incident is you serving notice that you've vacated the human race and you will be dealt with like the piece of trash you've become. We are not the fucking KKK, Butt-Monkey. I don't think any man is less than me until he proves it. You have a family, your cock stays at home. You have a daughter. Do you want her growing up happy only to get cornered in a bathroom by some asshole who thinks he has the right to violate her?'I let him go and stood back.‘We are done unless you fuck up again. Make an issue of this and I'll make sure your wife is gobbling Big Bob's cock before Thanksgiving. Clean yourself up and enjoy the party, Clarence,' I sneered. I left him there, kneeling on the floor before the porcelain altar.He had hate in his eyes; and he was scared too. Having broken both the law and the covenant of marriage, he'd painted himself into a corner. Things were going according to plan. Kick the BBCs in their masculinity. How we would defeat the sexual addiction angle was still a mystery to me.I was looking for both Brandy and Clarence's wife. Mom had gotten to the latter first and was already insinuating herself into the woman's confidence. She was a born con artist. I found Brandy alone by the pool, rather shaken up. She gave a slight jolt when I wrapped my arms around her from behind.‘Oh, it is you,' she sighed with relief.‘You are my girlfriend, Brandy. You don't need to be afraid of me,' I soothed her. 'That's right Brandy' was the message. 'You can have a boyfriend who fucks you silly yet doesn't treat you like crap and scares you.' Darius didn't have to be an abusive bastard. He chose to be.He choose to make Brandy the pawn in his rage against Whites in general and Sheriff Carson in particular. 'Black Rage'? That was an excuse for lashing out at the weak, defenseless, innocent and uninformed. Worse, it was insulting, to Blacks. Why would Black people be less emotionally mature than any other human beings? Just saying the phrase made me feel racist.By that reasoning, any person of any race could be excused for going nuts because their lives had been harsh enough. Funny; if a White man had spontaneous rage issues he would be committed to a mental health facility, or sent to prison, and then forced to take medicine and submit to therapy.Child abuse, torment, broken homes, poverty, drug abuse and persecution were all excuses used by serial killers too. I preferred to see Black people as people and accountable to that standard of civility I held myself to. In the same manner, they were worthy of all the respect I showed my Father as long as they didn't prove otherwise. The only person I could stop from being racist was me. The rest had to be held to their own standards, period, end of statement.‘Thanks Vlad,' she pushed into me.‘You know,' I rested my jaw on the top of her head. ‘Standing by the pool reminds me that I've never seen you in a bikini.' She gave me a weak elbow to the ribs.‘You've seen me naked,' she teased me. She twisted enough so she could look up at my face. ‘Have you forgotten that already?'‘Not likely,' I bent my body so that I could kiss the tip of her nose. That caught her off guard yet she quickly rewarded me with an ass wiggle. ‘I take that back,' I looked away. ‘I've completely forgotten about it. Maybe you could show me what I've been missing sometime soon.' I got another ass wiggle.‘You are impossible,' she remarked loudly.In unison we looked toward the grill in time to see Big Bob sending a satisfied smile our way.‘Parents,' I protested to her softly. ‘Can't I just hold you without your Daddy making a big deal about it?' I had to head off her anger with her Dad from poisoning the gains I'd been making.‘Oh God, yes,' she sighed. There was a long break in the conversation.‘Are you going to give me trouble about still seeing Darius?' she questioned me.‘I'm not going to lie to you. I'm not happy about it,' I hugged her tighter. ‘But, I'm a man of my word and I said I wouldn't stand in your way. Don't ask me not to hate him.'‘Why would you hate him?' Brandy prodded me. I knew what she wanted.‘I'm going to dislike any man who touches you, Brandy,' I nuzzled her hair. ‘White, Black, Yellow, Brown, Green, or Purple, I don't care. I know I can make you happier than Darius can. I'm man enough to trust you to figure that out on your own.' Another long pause.Big Bob was calling everyone over for their grilled meat of choice.‘What if he won't let me go?' she posed.‘Then I'll kick his ass and beat the crap out of every goon he puts between us,' I pledged. Brandy wanted a brutal competition as confirmation of her perceived self-worth.I took that sense of victory into Monday morning. I felt confident. I also had boarded up the proverbial windows and evacuated the low-lying areas because a hurricane was coming my way. There was no more confusion on Darius' part. I was the enemy he had to crush no matter what. My family would have to go down as well.It wasn't the smart move, but it was really his only move because calling for a truce wasn't in him. A real man would have looked at the possible costs versus the intended gains. Instead, a mad delusion gripped the opposition, Darius didn't give a damn about any of his supporters. His BBC culture encouraged him to think of every woman as a token to be taken from any man.It was insane for anyone to think they were safe from that toxin. What possible loyalties could have sprung from encouraging such insidious selfishness? It wasn't IF you would fuck a certain girl; it was when. Was a girl with a guy? She wouldn't always be under his protection and then it was BBC time. Would the guy get pissed his girl was being boinked?So? Girls were walking, talking sex orifices and that guy had just proved the girl who you thought was yours was really nothing but another cock-hungry slut. Very few women were truly respected anymore and those who thought they were safe had their heads hopelessly lost in the clouds. Wouldn't color save them? Why?The community had already given Black men a pass on predatory behavior toward Whites, forgetting they were people too. Exercising their BBCs gave them all the White cunt, lips and ass they could want. 'Want' being the key word. Black girls were just as sexually enticing as White girls. The boys were already skilled at violating their victims, willing, or unwilling.The same lies the BBCs told White girls work on Black girls too, because the truth they are nothing but hash-marks was too bitter a pill to swallow. Given his looks, natural talent and the thoughtless adoration of his community, Darius' blinding egotism was a given. The rest of the parasitical crowd had vested too much in their favored Son to restrain him now.That attitude greatly simplified the Samsonov stratagem to under-cut his latest efforts before they even got off the ground. He had racked up four more blackmail victims Friday night. Mom was taking that leverage away once school was in session by taking the evidence to the parents of the students in question. Painful? Yes.It was cauterizing the damage before Darius' crowd could turn it into a long festering wound. Our position was aided by the fact we didn't require the White families to do anything except to bring their kids into the loop. No active resistance was required, yet. All that was still coming. For me, it was another day in homeroom, talking with Kaelyne about her weekend.‘Hey Vlad,' Brandy's greeting had a bit more 'oomph' this morning. Taliyah was in her normal, tag-along spot with that accustomed slight smirk on her face. She was behind the times.‘Hey yourself, Brandy,' I smiled my girlfriend's way. ‘You look really nice today.' Brandy had been a bit unsure about the state of our détente. Taliyah and Kaelyne were floored by my propriety.‘Thanks, Vlad,' Brandy gave me a sultry twirl of her skirt before she sat down. She twisted to say something else, but my attention had already refocused on Kaelyne. I wasn't going to surrender my friendship with Kaelyne for Brandy.‘What where you saying about that female Peshmerga fighting against ISIS?' I picked up our conversation.Yep, petite Kaelyne was a gun-nut with a secret ambition to fight the patriarchal rapists of Mother Earth. She was enchanted by my tales of the Alaskan Wilderness and I found her; well, kinda neat. Kaelyne kept stammering her response while looking over my shoulder at Brandy. I followed that path back.‘Brandy, is there a problem?' I regarded her somewhat coldly.‘I wanted to talk to you about the Basketball team,' she kept shooting intimidation Kaelyne's way. The basketball angle was to remind Kaelyne I was a jock. Cheerleaders and jocks ran in the same social circles. Jocks and geeks didn't.The local twist on that quaint social custom was all the other athlete/jocks were Black, except for the token, 'Mamma paid my way onto the team' White boy; and now the Samsonov triplets. We three had no illusions about being welcomed by the Black athletic establishment. No matter what Brandy chose to believe, cheerleaders of both races were little more than easily accessible fuck-toys.My brothers had already razzed me about putting my cock into Brandy. None of us wanted anything to do with the rest of the cheerleader corps, though Mom insisted we consider the opportunity if it arose. That and give them the disinfectant treatment before penetrating any of their whore holes, and, due to the BBC preference to deep-throat and tea-bag their bitches, that included French kissing.‘I'll catch up with you at lunch,' I suggested. We knew that was Darius-time. There was nothing like creating a scheduling conflict with the onset of the new week and our new relationship.‘The Squad (cheerleading squad) has a practice meeting at lunch,' Brandy reminded me; that she and the girls were required as cock-sluts during lunch.‘How about we meet up at the end of lunch then?' I offered.‘Okay,' she turned her somewhat brittle smile to me. ‘As co-Captain of the Cheer Squad, I need to coordinate activities with all the athletic teams.' We had three school teams: football, basketball, and Track and Field. The third group didn't get Brandy's support.‘He's not likely to be selected team captain,' Taliyah pointed out. That was unfair. Very likely true, but still bigoted and biased.‘I'm hoping it will be Kaja,' I responded. ‘She's a hell of threat plus she'd got a good head for the game.'‘She's a girl,' all three girls around me spouted. Ms. Alice Thomas, our homeroom teacher, called things to order. We got the regular announcements out of the way and one 'gem'. The School Board had hired a new 'interim' Principal. He was, surprise, surprise, Black (I was actually wrong about that, more later). This time, he was a Canadian Black man.The morning was much the same as last week; more sneak attacks, slights and racial slurs. My brothers and I knew how the teachers would treat us. We had broken them down into three groups: the Racists (yeah, I know, Black People Can't be racists), the Cock-suckers (their BBC masters were pissed with us, so those teachers were pissed with us), and the Doomed (victims of blackmail forced to torment us).The Doomed were the nicest. Their heart wasn't in their efforts to annoy us. All they did was make the minimally required dubious efforts to single us out for maltreatment. The first two groups came at us with some real hatred. Those 'educators' were openly disdainful. We didn't mind. Samsonovs respected authority until it stopped being fair and impartial.On the way to lunch, Mikhail and I began our school counter-offensive. As two punks tailed him into a security camera blind spot, I cut off the lights so they could be highlighted by external illumination. Then the beat down began. We grappled them with one hand and landed body-blow after body-blow with the other. We'd split up and slipped back into the school crowd before anyone was the wiser.‘Vlad?' Taliyah yanked on my arm in the hall during the 5th/6th period break. When I turned around, ‘Vlad.' She came close to me and pulled me into a door sill. ‘Vlad; umm; why don't you go by the infirmary?'‘What? Please don't think I like, or trust you, Taliyah. I see how you look at Brandy and that ain't love,' I chided the Black cheerleader.‘I don't like you either, Vlad,' she glared, ‘but; Brandy; she pisses me off at times, but we've been close since seventh grade and; go see for yourself.' With that, she took off. To go, or not to go; that was the dilemma. Taliyah's actions were unusual and out of character for the player she thought she was. I went with the bizarre and the belief that even bad people can be humane.I found Brandy on the nurse's couch looking pretty damn miserable. She'd been crying and appeared distraught. The nurse was sitting in the corner, talking amiably on her cell phone.‘Brandy?'‘What are you doing here?' the nurse, Tasha Cooke, tried to block me.Had she been paying attention to her sole patient she might have been effective at that.‘Brandy, I'm just stopping by to say 'hey',' I said as I hovered in front of her.‘Vlad,' she sniffled. ‘Nothing is wrong.' Clear lie. ‘I'll be okay.'‘Now would you get out, boy?' Nurse Cooke grabbed my left bicep.‘I'm her boyfriend,' I shot a furious look Cooke's way. ‘I'm going to call her Father and see what he says about Brandy and your treatment of her.'‘Vlad, don't,' Brandy grabbed my hand that was reaching for my phone.‘Boyfriend,' Nurse Cooke snidely muttered under her breath.‘That's right,' my voice took on a tiger's rumble. ‘I'm the one here when she is in distress, not some cock-sucking loser who things he owns her.' Our eyes clashed. ‘Make sure you tell Darius I said that too,' I taunted her.‘White boy, you don't know what's going on,' Tasha taunted right back.‘Tasha Cooke, older sister of Nefrititi Cooke who was recently fired by my Mom for being niggardly,' I fiercely grinned. ‘Mother of three. Never married. It was relayed to me you are more of a bitch than your sister, so no man wants to hang around after he's done his business. What exactly don't I understand, Ms. Cooke?' I wasn't calling her a 'bitch'.That would have been bad. No, I was staying I had heard someone called her a 'bitch' and was relaying that information.‘Ah,' she stuttered. ‘Have you been stalking me?'‘Nope,' I shook my head. ‘The 4-1-1 on you wasn't even difficult to obtain.‘Now give us some space before I start to think you don't like me,' I added. She didn't like me. I didn't care. I wanted to talk to Brandy without this cunt standing over my shoulder. Tasha backed off, then mumbled something about going out for a smoke. With her gone, I hugged Brandy and kissed her on the top of her blonde head.‘I have to get to class,' I told her. I kissed the top of her head again which resulted in Brandy pressing her head into my shoulder and her breasts against my torso. ‘I'll catch up with you later.' I separated from her. I wasn't going to rip her about letting Darius get away with whatever happened. That wasn't an argument I could win.Twenty minutes later the Samsonov triplets were sitting in the Vice Principal's office, listening to her bitching us out. She was going to roast our chestnuts on an open-fire, BBQ our ham hocks and exile us from school.‘For what?' I inquired.‘You beat up two nice, young, upstanding African-American men,' she growled.‘Evidence would be nice,' I grinned.‘They saw you three bastards attacking them. That's all the proof I need,' the VP glared. Somehow, she sensed a trap.‘So, these two unnamed guys claim the three of us beat them up; where? When?' I kept at her.‘That doesn't matter, you little bastards. They made the complaint and I believe them. You are looking at a one week suspension and you are being booted off the basketball team,' she turned viciously victorious. We three kept smiling.‘Wait, are you recording this conversation?' she gasped. Three phones came up, we all hit 'upload' and showed her the screens. ‘Give me those,' she snapped. We handed her the phones, the 'burner' phones dedicated to this round. Mom was a prophetess for some Dark Pantheon, no doubt. ‘How do you delete those files?' she mumbled as she played with the buttons.‘That would require a password which I doubt any of us recall right now,' Alexander informed her. The VP, Mrs. Janice Russell, looked ready to erupt. ‘I will make it easy on you, Ms. Russell. Ms. Blanchard can verify I was with her from 12:35 to 1:10 when you summoned me here. Before that, all three of us were in the cafeteria. Your cameras will prove that.'‘That means, B; ,' Mikhail snarled, ‘The three of us couldn't have beat up anyone since before home room. That means those whiny, little natty-haired bastards lied to you on an official complaint.'‘Yes, my brothers and I can't thank you and your 'boys' enough for getting overly-greedy,' I added.Vice Principal Russell's mouth gaped like that of a drowning fish.‘None of us are going to sweat about these false accusation,' I smirked. ‘We three are going to drop hints to everyone who counts you were super-nice to us and let us off with a 'stern warning'. I'm sure so very many of your fans will be pleased with you giving the three most hated White boys in school a pass.'‘I did no such thing,' she protested. I could see that creeping fear in her eyes.‘Well, unless you want to be brought before the State Board of Education, you are letting us walk,' I pointed out.‘You have nothing,' she shook her head.‘We have had several run-ins with you, we have you setting up our Mother by threatening Mikhail and we have you facilitating the Principal's attack,' I reminded her.‘I did no such thing,' she protested.‘Nice try. Either you are an idiot to not know what has been going on under your nose the past ten years as you handed female student after female student and concerned mother after concerned mother over to our former Principal, or you were in cahoots. Either way, you are toast,' I countered.‘You can't tie me to that,' she gobbled with some real concern.‘Like us, you are White, Ms. Russell,' I snorted with amusement. ‘The Black community will rally around that fat bastard. Who has your back? If you think it is the Coach, you clearly haven't noticed how he looks at the female student body.' The 'Ms.' was on purpose; an indicator she wasn't being much of a wife in our eyes.‘Hell, they might even pin his extracurricular activities, you manipulating a man with a sexual addiction he had no control over, on you because you pretty much made him a victim too,' Alexander piled it on. ‘There goes any hope of a teaching job anywhere.'‘Your husband will lose all his Black clients; and most of the White ones too,' Mikhail grinned like a shark.‘No; no, that wouldn't happen,' she muttered.‘You are having a rather indiscreet affair with the Coach although you are a married woman. Basically, both of you are liars, deceivers and abuse your authority,' I continued. ‘If the Coach really wanted you, you'd be his wife by now; but nah; he's stringing you along.'‘Yeah, that's loyalty for you,' Alexander tagged in. ‘Except you aren't loyal to your husband, so why would any man be loyal to you?'‘Shut; Shut Up!' she screamed. ‘Get out; ‘ Out we went.‘We beat that because of one little lie,' Mikhail chortled. ‘One lie, had they stuck with the facts, stupid bastards.'As we headed down the main corridor, classes let out for sixth period. As we passed Darius and some of his hoodlums, we laughingly chorused,‘Loser,' at him in front of a whole crowd of students. Darius' face darkened with rage. We stumped him then by doing the unexpected, we ran for it.The pattern for many basketball practices were set. The Ass Coach split up our alliance every chance he got, because we repudiated and ridiculed his style of coaching. It was hard for any of our group to score in individual scrimmages when our 'team mates' would never give us the ball. The guy whose jaw was broken by Mikhail was sidelined.Every time one of the Black athletes popped Kaja, Mikhail tied a knot on a piece of cord and waved it in the direction of the offender. Curiosity finally got to one of the other guys.‘You practicing to be a Boy Scout?' he scoffed.‘Nah. When I get angry, I tie a knot. When the time comes, I'll remember what each knot was for and untie it; if you get my drift,' Mikhail didn't even bother to look up.‘You think that makes you scary, needle-dick?' he took a step toward my brother.‘I don't give a damn what you think,' Mikhail said as he stood. ‘What I do know is that, unlike you and your buddies, I possess a personal code of Honor. I'm worthy of respect because of that. In turn, I show respect to those who show they've earned it; people like Kaja. Your sorry ass?; You don't matter,' Mikhail's temper was simmering.‘I'm not afraid of you,' the Black player postured.‘That's your mistake,' Mikhail chuckled. ‘There is a world full of the graves of dumb-fucks who didn't know when to be afraid. By no means consider yourself unique.'
The Hoes and Bitches Need A Champion.Based on a post by FinalStand, in 13 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. ‘Once you go Black, you don't go back; unless you are an Amerindian, Arabic, Asian, Black, Indian, Latina, or White girl, or guy who has tried Black, then found sexual fulfillment with a non-Black person and created a blissful relationship with them'Introduction:Right off the bat, be warned that I'm using the 'N' words, nigger, niggah, my niggah, plus homie, thug, coon, buck, spook, spade and whatever other crude racial slurs that come to mind. This story plays to both Black and White stereotypes.Lastly, this story is rather flippant with the entire concept of sexual assault. Those who have red my previous tales know this is not my attitude at all. For the sake of this genre I had to grapple with the concept of forcing a woman and 'making them love that cock'Prelude:My tale begins as the Winter Man Saga 1300 years ago, about the year 700 AD. One small clan of my Swedish ancestors lost a brutal feud with their neighbors. Their farms were burned, animals slaughtered and their women and children taken as slaves. Only three young brother-warriors survived, wounded but unconquered. The victors chased them high into the mountains when a terrible winter storm struck.The three brothers were trudging across a glacier between the mountain peaks in Whiteout conditions. The lead brother stepped into a crevasse and slid to the bottom of the glacier. Not giving up on their last kinsman, the other two slid down into the darkness after him. At the roots of that glacier they found an ice cavern formed by snow that fell 100,000 years ago.They melted the ice for water with their body heat and in doing so, unleashed a demoness (virus) that no man had ever known and survived. The three men grew very sick, but their fierce desire for vengeance kept them from succumbing. When they emerged from their icy tomb, they discovered that several of their pursuers had frozen to death in the blizzard and the rest had returned to their stolen homes and purloined lands, thinking the three brothers were dead.In the dark of the long northern night, they snuck upon the Great Hall of their enemies. When one of the brothers saw his 'former' wife doing a slave's work, he revealed himself to her. She rejoiced at the return of her love; physically, then brought the three table scraps to survive on. In the process, they learned that their sisters were also alive and the sexual playthings of their male nemeses.Due to the depth of winter, stealing back their womenfolk wasn't possible. They'd all freeze to death if they didn't starve first. To repay their enemy's wickedness, one of the brother's snapped and raped one of the chief's daughters. He was possessed with an unearthly desire and held her in a stable for hours. Only when he was utterly spent did he fall asleep.She ran to her father and returned with many warriors. So the first of the brothers was taken. He was tortured and abused. For three long nights he suffered at the hands of his captors yet refused to admit any of his other brothers were still alive. After that third night, the chief's daughter sneaked past the sleeping guards of the chained man, and raped him.For the next five nights, while her father, brothers and husband slept, she raped and raped and raped that brother. On the fifth night, a sister-in-law caught her at it. The daughter pled for the other to spare her; that the man's sexual prowess had ensnared her. She even challenged her kinswoman to sample the 'fruit' before turning her in. Five women later, the brother cracked and told the women how to find his brothers.The night after the Spring Equinox Celebrations, the women of their enemy rose up and slaughtered all their adult menfolk at the behest of the three brothers, on the conditions that their youngest sons be spared and that the men continue to share their favors with all the womenfolk (who were not their kin).The Sammi ClanThe isolated region of the land of the Swedes kept my ancestors out of contact with the wider world for some time. Many generations later, a son of that clan came to lead a band of (female) Finns. His Swedish name is forgotten. The Finns called him Sami (the Exalted One, no shit). He and this band took to fur trading along the Eastern tributaries of the Volga.In time, this group became identified with the Varangian. The Sons of Sami intermarried with the Slavs, becoming Slavicized and the Sons of Sami became Samsonovs. They followed the Rus expansion into the eastern tributaries of the Volga reaching Nizhny Novgorod in the 10th century.Then came the Mongol Conquest, the Tartar Yoke, Rus reunification and the Russian drive across Siberia. The Samsonovs remained tightly clannish and uncomfortable in urban settings. That wanderlust led them across the Bering Straits into Alaska where their genetic abnormality, the gift of that ancient demoness (virus), slumbered in isolation and monogamy.After a thousand years, the tales of mass orgies with strange women and protective female war bands faded into obscurity. Then my Mom, the brilliant, driven eccentric came along. Once she became enraptured with her own Samsonov lover, she had to know the secret of Samsonov men's sexual prowess.With her burning intellect and educational background, she eventually figured it out. She was also amoral enough to keep the knowledge to herself and vengeful enough to plan to use our curse as a weapon.My Living Family· Father, Nikolay 'Nik' Samsonov;· Mother, Gayle Fonteneau Samsonov;· The Triplets, Alexander 'Alex', Mikhail and Vladimir 'Vlad'; that's me.Sitting at the dinner table, I protested; ‘Mom, You actually expect me to believe my Father, Brothers and I have the genetic capability to addict every woman we have sex with to our schlongs? That's nuts!'Mom retorted; ‘As opposed to thinking the color, length and girth of a phallus makes any woman lose all sense of loyalty, morality and decorum so she can become a man's sex sleeve, whore, bitch, property? Yes, I do.'The lives of my family took an unexpected detour in the spring of this year. My great-aunt Matilda (Mattie) died and willed her estate to Mom. I had never met the woman while she was alive yet in death she would have a profound effect on all our lives. Mom's family was a mess; a crowded dingy with a madhouse of odd characters.Lionel was my eldest maternal uncle. He was a Big, Bulging Brain working as a Chief Technical Advisor for NASA; a solitary crusader for all Mankind. What was he a technical advisor for? If anything left terra firma for more than fifteen seconds, he knew every detail about it. That included volcanic eruptions too. When we were younger, he invited us to various volcanoes (both above and beneath the waves). Great guy.Cassius, my second uncle, was serving time in Indonesia for piracy. Mom said he was meaner than every saltwater crocodile that ever lived. The two times I'd met him, he'd been a lean, happy laconic kind of guy with a love for military history. Mom said he was a charismatic rebel who was possessed by an obsession to defy authority in all its forms.Dido was child number three; my Mom's older sister, married to an Evangelical Televangelist in Nebraska under an assumed name, Paula Richmond. She also had a MD in Psychiatry and a Master's in Public Communications (under her real name), which she kept secret from the fundamentalist congregation. The few times we met; she was the perfect mother. Secretly, we three sons wished she'd been our mother instead of our real mother. Mom said Aunt Dido was a master manipulator and wielded a cruel whip;Then there was Mom's twin, Uncle Theo, who never lived in one place, traveled all around the globe and had every law enforcement agency in the civilized world looking for him. We always receiving presents from him during all the normal holidays; like Michaelmas, Holy Week, the start of Lent, Martinmas (his favorite) and our birthdays; which arrived at random, unrelated times of the year and never from the same location.He was the only one we'd never met, but the one Mom loved the most. Dad suspected he was a narco-trafficker while Mom insisted he was too paranoid to be considered reliable for that line of work. Mom told us he'd spent his formative years killing people for Uncle Sam until one day he simply walked away from Fort Bragg and became an independent contractor.The Defense Department sent some fine, brave men from Joint Special Operation Command, to talk to Mom every few months. They made sure not to trip over the CIA and Homeland Security types who occasionally staked out our house. We boys guessed they came around every time Uncle Theo assassinated people. Mom taught us how to appreciate them in an elaborate ritual she called 'April Fool's, which became an 'any day of the year' activity.My Mom's father (I never met the guy) was a leader of a cult in Nevada. He went down, guns blazing during a DEA raid. Apparently his interests included both harems and marijuana production.Mom's mom? She left my Mother outside a dive bar in San Diego and was never seen again. She had doctorates in Biology and Physics as well as the reputation for being a certifiable Space Cadet. Mom insisted her mom hadn't abandoned her, she'd simply forgotten where she left her youngest daughter who was 15 at the time.After five days, Mom decided to join an Alternative Rock band instead of looking for the lady yet again. Seven years later, she was declared legally dead; though all her offspring believed she was still alive; somewhere; doing something.Then you had Dad's family. We had some characters on that side of the family, just not like Mom's. For starters, Samsonovs were bred for law enforcement. We'd been arresting bad guys since the 1500's. We'd been doing that in Alaska since the time of the tsars. When the Alaskan Territory was sold to the United States; well, my ancestors simply started writing their reports in English instead of Russian.Over the centuries, we had bagged serial killers, smugglers, poachers, drug dealers, domestic abusers and thieves. Mostly they arrested drunks and wackos. My Great Grandfather Petrov was a law enforcement legend in Alaska. Alone, he ran down a pack of murderous robbers in the dead of winter before they made it to 'safety' in the Yukon Territory.In the spring, they found them frozen solid, him leading five men, he recorded in his journal he'd killed the other three while apprehending the gang, back in chains. That pretty much defined the nature of my Father's family, no too many stellar geniuses, but always relentless past all norms of endurance and reason. The moment females were allowed in law enforcement, the womenfolk joined the profession.My Aunt Iliana was in the Coast Guard, that made her the 'Black sheep' in this clan. Taking the law out to the high seas was about as wild as Dad's family got. Dad was pretty much the standard issue for my kin. Big, Dad was 6' 5' and 290 lbs., and about as imaginative as a glacier. Why Mom married Dad had long been a mystery to his sons.Don't get me wrong. I loved my Dad, but the man used a grand total of twenty different sentences his entire life. The fewer words he had to speak, the happier he was. He was a nice guy, never drinking too much and I'd never seen him lose his temper. He smiled, was unerringly polite and had always been helpful and playful with us kids from our earliest memories.Grandpa, my great-aunts and -uncles, my aunts, uncles and cousins by blood were the exact same way. I mean that quite literally. We all pretty much looked alike as well. Those who married, married eccentrics. In our regular family get-togethers that translated over to the blood kin in one room saying and doing nothing (we were already cluing into some sort of primitive telepathy) and being very happy that way, while the married relations were in another room packing on the lunacy.There was no middle ground; you were either a silent, brooding peak in the Samsonov mountain range, or the aurora borealis. That left me and my brothers, we were triplets, in a precarious position. We looked like smaller versions of our Dad (we were still growing) yet were totally at the mercy of our Mother most of our young lives. Recall what I said about eccentrics and lunatic behavior. Mom was the Queen of the Asylum.Mom quickly fell in love with 'things' and she loved doing those things with family. Since Dad worked long hours, family meant my brothers and me. We could make passable pottery by age seven. Krav Maga? Screw this 'driving to some dojo in Anchorage' crap. Mom signed us up for a two week course in Israel and online lessons for a year. Archery, check. Rewiring our house and refitting all the plumbing, check.The three of us were SCA squires at age 12. Pleading to Dad was pointless. He'd smile, mess up our hair and remind us these excursions made our Mother happy aka he wasn't going to help us have normal lives. We had some ex-Green Beret guys teach us outdoor survival skills in Wyoming. We could pull wool, make thread and knit a set of pants and sweaters.I and my brothers had to memorize 1200 medically useful plants before we could get our Christmas presents when we were 14. We free-climbed mountains, ran 10Kms, kayaked, were proficient seamen on a sailing ship and learned how to navigate by the Sun, Moon and stars. Around the age of 15, we figured out that Mom had a ton of money squirreled away. There was no way Dad, with his civil servant's salary, could afford all this crazy shit.By the age of 18 we had such a crazy patchwork set of skills, we weren't sure what we would end up doing with our lives; though tracking down Uncle Theo and living a life on the run was looking more attractive every month. What we didn't have were great social lives. We all had girlfriends at one time, or another, but they never lasted.Right before any of us were about to get serious with any girl in high school, my Mom dragged us off; to things like a five day course on Renaissance artwork in Milan; that's Italy. We had to learn to speak Italian in three days, plus during the flight over. Mom made it easy for us. We could only speak Italian the entire time. Doing that at school was 'fun'. Dad? He smiled and said nothing for three days.Welcome to the Fonteneau House, Kingston, ArkansasAnyway, Mom's Great-aunt Mattie kicked the bucket and left her vast fortune in northwestern Arkansas to my Mom. The old bird hated the rest of the nutjobs in the clan, but adored my Mom (and Theo). Upon receiving the news, my brothers and I began thinking the same thing: banjo lessons, redneck stunts and girls in Daisy Dukes. By 'fortune' we were thinking a ramshackle Ozark shack sitting on a mountain top.Nope. Great-aunt Mattie was loaded. In fact, Mom's whole family had tons of money. They'd made a killing, quite literally, during the White expansion westward using various despicable means. They'd even been cursed by an entire Indian Tribe for bilking them off their land. Mom's family blamed that malediction for their bizarre behavior.That Arkansas home was actually the summer residence for the Fonteneau clan from a hundred years ago. Along with the palatial residence came thousands upon thousands of acres spread over a quarter of the state (and some land in Texas, Missouri and Oklahoma too).Tara, or the Biltmore estate, it was not, but it certainly had pretensions. It was a wide and roomy, rambling Victorian structure. The house proper (there were two barns, a stable, storage sheds, two garages, one attached and the other stand-alone, semi-attached servant quarters and four outlying hunting lodges) abutted the Kingston town limits.The place was big enough to require Mom to employ six staff;Phineas Cobb the third, an angry, sullen old White guy and his carbon-copy son, Phineas IV, were our two Wardens. That meant they took care of the outlying property which included hunting down poachers, interlopers and moonshiners (the competition, no doubt) and seeing to the upkeep of the various lodges, roads, trails and bridges around the place. Phineas the third and Mom; well, he cried and hugged Mom when he saw her, so we didn't know what to think of him and his son.Bebe Marston worked the stables and the twelve horses therein. She was a college dropout, White and 21; a woman at one of life's crossroads. Great Aunt Mattie brought her on a few months before she passed on. Bebe was a bit shy and distant around the menfolk. Mom treated Bebe like her long lost daughter; they got along fine.Thomas Freeman was the groundskeeper. Thomas seemed nice enough, a polite and somewhat deferential older Black man. I liked him. Mom fired him the moment the lawyer finished reading Maggie's Will. She believed the man was a back-biter, liar and a thief.Kamika Perry was the cook. She was a largish, plump Black woman with a large family in town. She was a tyrant in the kitchen but friendly and out-going everywhere else. She knew Mom from before; before what, we didn't know. She was close to Mom's age and was the niece of the former cook. She and Mom were cordial yet a tad formal.Nefertiti Cooke was the upstairs maid. She was a whip-tin attractive Black woman in her late-20s and joined Thomas heading out the door. Mom discharged her due to Nefertiti's sour attitude and general unwillingness to adhere to a work schedule.Anita Turner was our downstairs maid and overall manager of the other servants. Like Kamika, she knew Mom from her previous stay at the house, though Anita was already part of the staff back then. They acted like old friends though they understood the mistress-servant dynamics of their relationship.Mom solved our labor shortage by bringing in Mexicans (Hondurans actually). The two families divided up the nine rooms in the detached servants' quarters with Bebe, since Anita and Kamika lived in town and the Cobb's had their own cottage somewhere on the property.Hector Martinez became our new groundskeeper. He had a wife, Maria. Mom enrolled her in some online college courses so she could get a teaching license. They were both pretty young.Consuela Castro was our new upstairs maid. She was a single mother with a son, Gustavo (10), and a daughter, Isabo (6); they went to the local elementary school in town. Both families were very nice to us and seemed happy with their current circumstance. Since this job was their first go at being domestic servants, Mom told us to be patient and respectful while they learned the ropes from Anita and Mr. Cobb (only Mom could call him Phineas without pissing him off).My brothers and I, our Father, the Martinez's and the Castro's couldn't have predicted the shit-storm Mom was creating between our house and the dominant Black populace of Kingston along the great racial divide. The Hondurans had spent half their lives learning to keep their heads low when faced with discrimination. We didn't, nor did we know that Mom was acting with deliberate malice of forethought at that time.To help appreciate our understanding of the situation, we triplets had known a grand total of four Black people well enough to call them by their Christian names our entire lives. One was a crazy, older guy who had been a sniper at some point in his military career. By crazy, I meant he'd go off on tangents in mid conversation, or just stopping entirely. We all liked the guy.He and Granddad Samsonov were real tight. They'd served together in Vietnam and we boys suspected something bad had happened to them both, something which scarred and bound them together closer than brothers. He and Alexander went hunting all the time back in Alaska. All I knew was Morris (Grandpa's comrade-in-arms) was treated like family.That meant if Morris got in trouble, fifteen to twenty Samsonov's would show up to bail him out. That's what family meant. The other two were a retired Air Force couple, Parker and Mariana Carrington plus their infant William, that had moved in next door (that's 40 yards away in Alaska) when I was fourteen. They were in their early thirties and wanted to start a family. The woman had been pregnant with her second child when we left.My Mom and another neighbor trundled her off to a clinic during her first birth. Dad had driven fifty miles in a blizzard to get her husband, so he could witness his firstborn come into the world. The man worked as a fishing boat mechanic and had gotten stuck at work when his wife went into early labor. It was the Alaskan way to look after one another.I never much thought about minorities. There were nearly as many Native Alaskans attending my schools as White folk. The Natives knew my family going back eight generations. I had a few cousins who were 'First Peoples'. Minority? Majority? We were Alaskans and that was that.Again, I didn't think much about there being a social and economic racial crevasse when I showed up in Kingston, Arkansas. I probably would have been totally blind-sided about it if Dad hadn't done his due diligence and went to the Kingston Police Station and Davis County Sheriff's Office to report his status as an Alaskan State Trooper and register his firearms.Since we didn't know what to look for, we missed the obvious signs of trouble. The Black police officer that Dad talked to was; impolite. He informed Dad there would be no 'courtesy' given despite Dad's professionalism, i.e. he wasn't permitted to carry any of his licensed firearms. The Sheriff's department was very different.We met the Sheriff and the man got Dad to be about as verbose as I'd ever seen him. The Sheriff verified Dad's story, gave him a 90 Day permit for his sidearm and told him to make no never mind over the Town cops' hostility. He certainly seemed pleased Dad had three big, strong, strapping boys and gave Dad an application to join his department.That night, Dad informed us all at the dining room table he was considering the Sheriff's job offer. Mom was secretly pleased (like her sister, she IS an evil mastermind and master manipulator). Anita, Bebe and Kamika were eating with us as well, Mom insisted all the help do so (the Hondurans weren't with us yet), and I detected a hint of worry in their posture. I would have thought 'us' staying in the house, thus their continued employment, would be seen as a good thing.Welcome To Kingston.That night, over some late night cocoa, Mom gave the family the regional 4-1-1. Kingston was 75% Black, 20% White and 5% other. The rest of Davis County was 95% White and 5% Black and other. In Kingston, the Blacks ruled the town. All elected officials and police officers were Black. The Sheriff's department had a few Black officers, but was mostly White.It would have been all White except a combined lawsuit by Southern Poverty Law Center and N Double A CP, forced the County to 'integrate'. I asked the logical question: why hadn't the town been forced to integrate too? Mom told me that wasn't how things worked in the Lower 48. Here, Blacks couldn't discriminate; they could only be discriminated against.The Federal government said so. I was sensing shades of Uncle Theo in Mom's blanket assessment of things. My brothers and I were wrong. Mom was right. We were entering White Man's Hell aka Big Black Cock Country. Of course, Mom wasn't sadistic, or masochistic. She had a tidbit of knowledge no one this side of British Columbia was aware of, a Secret Weapon.Dad applied for and got the job of Senior Deputy, which riled some of the other (read: Black) deputies, but Dad's extensive experience and easy-going manner eased his entry into the unit. Mom remained Mom, an unconventional, beautiful, free-spirited kook. She made no effort to make friends. I was the boldest of the triplets so I asked her why.‘Do you know how your Father's family would rather hack of a hand than go back on their word?' she gazed at me intently. I nodded. When she said 'Father' instead of 'Dad', this was our cue that this was a Major Life lesson we had best memorize. ‘These people aren't like that. They will take that which is not theirs, break trusts, sully families and lie to your face.'‘These women are all bold-faced whores, cock-hungry tramps and sluts who get abortions because they don't know what color the daddy is. The males are either the kind of men who would sleep with those kinds of women, or gutless wonders who won't fight for their rights as boyfriends, brothers, fathers, fiancés and spouses.'‘This is a colored thing, right?' I guessed. I wanted to be wrong.‘Got it in one,' Mom patted me on the shoulder. ‘Most White men in town are spineless wimps, Black men jump on whatever cunt they can crack open and women of either color put up with it, even beg for it. I know because I was once like them.'‘You and Dad?' I worried. Mom gave a deep, hearty laugh.‘That is not going to be a problem, I promise you. The only man for me is your Father,' she smiled. ‘I had plenty of lovers before your Dad. Since one month after I met him, I've never been with another man, or woman, or even wanted one.' More than I wanted to know, but good news none the less.While we were moving in the small amount of belongs that had followed us from Arkansas, two Kingston cops stopped by to see what we were doing. I had spent my entire life around law enforcement who knew about me and my clan. They were always friends and people we could trust. Kingston PD was a rude awakening we weren't in Alaska anymore.They were brusque and intimidating. Their real purpose was to remind my family the house was part of the town, even if the back acreage was not. Mom snorted at their pale deception. She asked to see their warrant. They asked if there was some reason they might need one. Mom politely asked them to leave as they were trespassing.They basked in their defiance. What could Mom really do? If she went all redneck and produced a gun, they'd lock her up, pointing weapons at law enforcement was stupid. Sadly for the cops, familiarity breeds understanding too. Mom gave us the April Fools' signal. Alexander, our oldest triplet, moved the cargo truck so it blocked the officers' view of their patrol car.While Mom looked peeved, feeding the Black cops sense of empowerment, my youngest triplet Mikhail and I (Vladimir) stripped their car of all easily removable parts; the dash-cam went first. They wanted to loiter around on our property? We let them behave stupidly. We dumped the parts and our work gloves in a packing box and carried it right past them.We walked straight out the back too. There was a burning barrel which we made prompt use of, for the oily gloves and box. We had spares. Mikhail tended the fire as I picked up a broken cinder block, a heavy-duty trash bag and walked a few hundred yards to the bog near the creek that ran through our property, county land. The bag and contents went into the bog.I used a branch to make sure it sunk deep before returning. Cleaning off my boots with the outdoor hose completed my destruction of evidence. Ten minutes later a member of the Arkansas Highway Patrol stopped by to see what the problem was. Mom had called them before the sabotage had even begun. She didn't know these two personally, but she knew from earlier visits to her aunt that these two were going to give us 'attitude'.Calling the Sheriff's Department would only cause a standoff where the police had the upper hand, the whole town jurisdiction thing. By the time the HP arrived, Alexander had left with the truck so when the Highway Patrolman began expressing concern for my Mom's civil rights, the two buck butt-bandits made to leave. That didn't work out well for them.First came the circus of the discovery they were missing key parts of their vehicle and the lack of an explanation of how that had happened. Mom wouldn't let the town cops search her place. She happily let the Highway Patrolman (who happened to be Black too) look around. We'd used the hose and the burning barrel because moving was nasty, sweaty work, especially in the Arkansas summer heat.The two policemen blamed us, the triplets. Mom asked them when, in the cops thirty minute trespass, had her 'little angels' stolen the parts, why we would do such a criminal thing, and if they knew where the parts might be. The Highway patrolman was kind of curious about the length of their stay as well.The cops lied, Mom went inside and brought back the camcorder that had taken in the entire event. They were caught in the lie and all they could claim was the cargo truck had been strategically placed to block a visual to their car; as we unloaded our truck. Mom even got the Highway Patrolman to co-sign her complaint to the Arkansas State Police Criminal Investigations department.Mom knew this one wouldn't go anywhere. She had lived with cops long enough to know the value of building up a case file. Alexander was off returning the truck in another county, so he was safe. Mom called him and Dad so they could hook up before Alexander came home. She counted on the cops to be petty and they were.Alexander was on a motorcycle. When he got pulled, the city cops pulled in front of him. Dad stopped as well. Despite their continuing pressure to make Dad leave, they had no legal grounds to do so, he was Alexander's father, who would be responsible for Alex's ride if they took him into custody. Being an off-duty sheriff's deputy wasn't good enough, yet Dad's point was telling.Cops always pull up behind a suspect, not ahead of them unless they want to ignore the dash-cam evidence. Dad had pulled up in his Sheriff's vehicle behind Alexander and his dash-cam was recording everything. They let Alexander off with a Warning Ticket and departed giving father and son dirty looks. School was five days off. We checked out the property for two days. The third morning my brothers and I, on motorcycles, decided to explore Kingston.Having never before confronted such blatant racism, we weren't afraid, we were furious. We hadn't done anything to anybody. We were from Alaskan-Russian stock and had never owned a person ever, as far as we knew. We certainly weren't invested in this whole 'Black slavery, White guilt' issue. Those who gave us attitude about 'White privilege' didn't care for our counter, that saying all White people were alike was equally racist.As Mom had warned us, Black people couldn't be racist; just ask them. Mind you, many of the town's Black residents were friendly and helpful. They just weren't friendly enough to defend us from the 'haters'. At the end of the first day, Mikhail nearly got in a fight with five members of the Black post-high school crowd who were fucking with, and sitting on, our bikes.Where we came from, that was rude in the extreme. When he appeared to be alone, they were boisterous enough. When Alexander and I stepped out of the pool hall (we'd been made unwelcome there), they backed off from their threatening rhetoric. They still wouldn't leave, or get off our bikes. The three versus five odds didn't deter us.It was the lack of faith in the local justice system that encouraged Alexander and me to hold Mikhail back. We had an answer to their intransience, crowding. It takes a great deal of cool to have three guys, all over six feet tall and 220 lbs. lean in on you while you are sitting down. When the current bastard was dealt with, we moved to the next. Before the group could figure a way to thwart us, we had retrieved our bikes and were headed home.The next day, we took Mom's 2012 Shelby V8 Mustang out for a drive. We found the three spots in town the 'White folk' hung out in. We had the Country Western Redneck posse' section of town, pseudo-riche Southerner clique downtown region, and the movie theater (theoretically neutral turf). The saner White middle class had departed for safer pastures, they had established their own municipality a few miles outside of town).The rednecks welcomed our physicality. We were attempting to fit in until they began talking about all those damn 'niggahs'. Alexander broke down after a bit and asked what a 'niggah' was. It was a 'coon'. Since that was of no help, we asked what a 'coon' was.The regulars found our naiveté amusing. It took us three minutes of running a verbal obstacle course to piece together that 'niggahs' was their inbred pronunciation of 'niggers' (a term we knew from TV and movies) which was idiot slang for a Black person. We were 'crackahs', idiot slang for crackers aka White people. Hispanics were 'beeners'; yeah, right.We also learned that the favorite activities for teenage rednecks was knocking over mailboxes as they sped down the road, beating up White girls who sucked Black cock and beating up 'niggahs' who touched White girls. My analysis was that these yahoos were long on talk and short on action.I wasn't a fashion icon yet I could tell these boys could use a bath and some fresh clothes. The girls who hung around this crowd looked about as loyal as salmon during spawning season. At 18, we were hardly experienced, but we weren't desperate virgins either. Girls we had just been introduced to, flirting with us and suggesting later sexual rendezvouses were a definite turn-off because God knows who else they'd been doing it with.That led us to the riche clique. Among the guys; half were snobbish closet gays who weren't our thing. The other half were rich straight guys pretending to be rednecks. Rich White girls pretended to be friends with the rich Black girls. They were used to being pampered by their rich White boyfriends while eyeing every Black stud that crossed their path.Until they realized Samsonov = Fonteneau, they were snide. After that, they tried to convince us we were all (distantly) related. Bloodlines and riches were not the basis for what we called friends so we politely postponed any celebrations.The Cineplex was a hunting ground for all ages. White women I was pretty sure were married to someone else engaged in sexual liaisons with Blacks; be they teens, business types, or lay-abouts. We had no idea if these were random hook-ups, or affairs and we didn't really care.Having wasted nine hours of our lives we definitely wanted back, we ended up rendezvousing with Mom and Dad at his boss's, the Sheriff's, place. Whatever else he was, Robert ‘Big Bob' Carson wasn't an underpaid county employee. His home was nice, expansive, relatively new and sitting on four wonderful acres of land, half woodland/half professionally maintained lawn and gardens. He had an expansive deck with a built-in grill, hot tub and pool out back.My brothers and I had been under the impression this would be an office outing. It ended up being our two families; the five of us, Big Bob and his daughter, Brandy Crystal Carson. There was no Mamma Carson in sight and a lack of family pictures was noticed by us and our Mom. Dad and Bob (it was tough to call him Big Bob when Dad was bigger than he was) were deep in conversation at the outdoor grill when I arrived.‘Vlad, come out here,' my Dad called to me in his easy going manner.‘Brandy!' Bob shouted. I promptly showed up. Dad wasn't a passionate disciplinarian. I didn't hustle out of fear. I hurried out because I wanted my Dad to look good in front of the Sheriff. ‘Hello Vlad,' Big Bob greeted me. ‘You are a strapping lad, big like your Daddy.'That was a bit odd. I had only heard one person call my Father 'Daddy'. That was my Mom when she was feeling frisky. Mom walked around the house naked when the mood struck her (even when we had guests over) and had few compunctions about hopping into Dad's lap when she wanted attention. That was a common enough occurrence that 'us' boys had learned to sneak out of the room quietly before we were ten.Only in the last two years had we figured out part of Mom's bizarre sexual behavior was caused by Dad being utterly clueless where women were concerned. He could spot a shoplifter at a glance, or an expired car registration at fifty feet on a moonless night. I had seen a car saleswoman hit on Dad when he was getting his newest pick-up. She did everything but flash her tits and do a striptease; it all went right over Dad's head.‘Brandy! Get your ass down here!' Bob bellowed. She must have been most of the way to us because she materialized five seconds later.‘Yes Daddy,' Brandy sounded bored. I was too busy gawking to see Big Bob's reaction to his daughter's insolence.Brandy was beyond gorgeous (according to my personal standards). She had pale-blonde hair in a ponytail that clearly went past her shoulder blades. Her caramel skin was the beneficiary of countless sessions with a tanning booth. Her eyes were the darkest blue I'd ever seen. Breasts, Jesus, they were large and firm. I could tell that because she had on a pink crop-top and no bra. I could almost see the bottoms of each orb.Her stomach was muscled with a thin layer of fatty tissue to give her real womanly curves and she had curves to spare. Her waist was narrow and her hips were wide, complimenting her breast size. She had on super-short, cut-off, 'faded-almost-to-White' denim jeans that accentuated her dark skin. Her ass was to die for. A bit big but well-muscled, each a perfect hemisphere.Her thighs and calves were the product of consistent exercise. Hot, hot, hot. She had on white tennis socks (no shoes) that finished off her delectable image.‘Brandy, this is Vladimir, Senior Deputy Samsonov's son. He's going to be your boyfriend this year,' Bob announced. I had a feeling this wasn't open for debate, in his mind.‘What!' Brandy squawked.‘What?' I looked to my Dad.‘What the fuck?' Brandy turned and glared at me. I would have enjoyed her breasts bouncing more if I hadn't been eyeballing my patriarch.‘Dad?' I kept my voice calm. Brandy was fantastic looking, but I didn't want anyone dictating my social life, period. I was eighteen. Besides, Brandy was turning out to have a far less appealing personality, Pretty Princess syndrome.‘Brandy, Vladimir's a nice boy. His father is 'good people',' Bob laid out his case.How did he know I was a good boy? He was taking a lot on faith.‘I don't want to date this loser,' Brandy shouted. 'Loser'? She didn't knew me either.‘If you don't keep Vlad as your boyfriend, then no cheerleading and no dance team,' Bob glared at his daughter. This clash of wills made no sense to me.‘No way!' Brandy glanced back at her Dad, protested loudly and stomped her foot on the wooden deck.‘Well then, you need to be home at 3:20 pm every school day,' Bob threatened. ‘And I'll make sure to check up on you.' Before I could wonder about Big Bob's abuse of power, I noted the state of the art security system, cyber-nanny.Brandy turned on me in a furor. Her face was screwed up with anger, her fists were clenched and I was working double-time to not ogle the cleave she enhanced by leaning forward. Man, she hated me for reasons I couldn't fathom. I disgusted her which I didn't get either. Plenty of non-relative women had called me good-looking and handsome.I had a healthy, well-defined physique, nice thick, blonde hair and the common sense to keep my body and clothes clean and casual. My only downside I'd ever been told about was my size, I was tall for my age and 'cut'. Brandy was 5' 4'. I was 6' 2'. I had stormy grey eyes, light blonde hair the color of wheat and skin spared the ravages of acne.‘Brandy, I am as uncomfortable and surprised about this as you are,' I tried to placate her. ‘Do you want to talk about it?' She forced herself to appear calm.‘Fine Victor,' she grumbled. Worse than getting my name wrong was the look of viciousness that glimmered in her eyes. ‘We'll make Daddy happy and be a cookie-cutter couple.'‘Dad?' I tried to exit this fiasco with some decorum.‘You'll do fine son,' he responded. That wasn't helpful.‘I'll see you Monday morning, Victor,' Brandy snidely mocked me before leaving. I turned to follow her thunderous retreat.Running after her would have felt pathetic so my sedate pursuit meant she put some distance between us. She ran right into Mom, who grabbed her arm.‘I'm warning you right now,' Mom hissed. ‘Don't have sex with any of my sons.'‘That won't be a problem,' Brandy snorted. I was filth in her mind
PPC advertising is a powerful tool for lawyers to generate high-quality leads and grow their practice. In this podcast, we discuss how PPC advertising can be used to reach potential clients who are actively searching for legal services. We also introduce Rich White, a PPC advertising specialist for law firms, who will share his insights on how to create successful PPC campaigns. For more information, reach out to us at info@abovethebarmarketing.com
We're back with another episode in between the holiday chaos! Tonight we're talking not guilty verdicts, sweeping pardons, NJ getting even weirder, how expensive a Yuletide tradition has become, more insane government antics, and how one man really can change the world in mysterious ways, plus whatever else we get into! Buckle up! https://linktr.ee/anarchyamongfriends Dyreka's book - https://www.amazon.com/Think-Yourself-Critical-Thinking-Beginners/dp/1791936172/ref=sr_1_fkmrnull_1 Andrew's YT - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCYuYw7aFnaJBc8F6NCn-CKg/videos "InkedAnarchist15" for 15% off at https://www.thebeardstruggle.com/?rfsn=4064657.9a3f66&utm_source=refersion&utm_medium=affiliate&utm_campaign=4064657.9a3f66 https://www.reaperapparelco.com/?ref=52cju0Cb Or use "InkedAnarchist" at checkout and get 10% off. RK Sppokware https://rkspookware.com?aff=11 Jeremy at The Quartering's 'Coffee Brand Coffee': https://coffeebrandcoffee.com/?ref=eryobzq3 Check out Road to Autonomy https://rtamagazine.com/ Poppins Patches - https://www.facebook.com/poppinspatches or poppinspatches.com Anarchy Among Friends Telegram - https://t.me/AAFRTD Anarchy Among Friends FB - https://www.facebook.com/AAFRTD Anarchy Among Friends Odysee - https://odysee.com/@AnarchyAmongFriendsRoundtableDiscussion:5 Anarchy Among Friends Rumble - https://rumble.com/user/Valhallarchist Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/show/0pqbeHBmWPN1sG0e6L28Uv Podbean - https://www.podbean.com/podcast-detail/8yy6n-c5c4e/Anarchy-Among-Friends-Podcast Apple Podcasts - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/anarchy-among-friends/id1459037636?ign-mpt=uo%3D4 Stitcher - https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/anchor-podcasts/anarchy-among-friends GooglePodcasts - https://podcasts.google.com/?feed=aHR0cHM6Ly9hbmNob3IuZm0vcy9hNGZmNzQwL3BvZGNhc3QvcnNz Breaker - https://www.breaker.audio/anarchy-among-friends Overcast - https://overcast.fm/itunes1459037636/anarchy-among-friends PocketCasts - https://pca.st/CDH3 RadioPublic - https://radiopublic.com/anarchy-among-friends-Wkzzjl Brandenburg v. Ohio, 395 U.S. 444 (1969), was a landmark United States Supreme Court case, interpreting the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. The Court held that government cannot punish inflammatory speech unless that speech is "directed to inciting or producing imminent lawless action and is likely to incite or produce such action. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brandenburg_v._Ohio THIS PODCAST IS COVERED BY A BipCot NoGov LICENSE. USE AND RE-USE BY ANYONE EXCEPT GOVERNMENTS OR THEIR AGENTS IS OK. MORE INFO: https://bipcot.org/ 12 Days - https://www.usatoday.com/story/graphics/2024/12/01/inflation-hits-12-days-of-christmas/76616506007/ Spelling - https://www.foxnews.com/media/national-spelling-bee-approves-feminist-term-womyn-kids-spelling-competition Luigi - https://www.yahoo.com/news/luigi-mangione-came-privilege-then-153443783.html https://www.yahoo.com/news/people-who-knew-luigi-mangione-describe-him-as-thoughtful-well-adjusted-young-man-who-struggled-with-back-pain-202044705.html NJ - https://nypost.com/2024/12/11/us-news/mystery-nj-drones-are-coming-from-iranian-mothership-offshore-congressman-claims-these-drones-should-be-shot-down/ Penny - https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/daniel-penny-found-not-guilty-chokehold-death-jordan-neely-rcna180775 Pardon - https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/joe-biden/joe-biden-issue-pardon-son-hunter-biden-rcna182369 Peanut Update - https://nypost.com/2024/12/07/us-news/pnut-the-squirrel-cant-rest-in-peace-in-ny-his-headless-body-held-by-state-as-evidence/ Work - https://nypost.com/2024/12/05/us-news/only-6-of-federal-workers-show-up-in-person-on-a-full-time-basis-scathing-senate-report-reveals/ Tolls - https://www.cbsnews.com/newyork/news/star-trek-license-plates-beda-koorey-traffic-tickets/
Well... that happened.... but trust and believe, we are here for you! Don't worry about a thing, because every little thing... We know that you all are stressed and worried, and we are here to help! Thank you for tuning in, and thank you for all of the love and support you have given us!Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/for-all-nerds-show--5649266/support.
This week hosts Tiffany Cross, Angela Rye, and Andrew Gillum process a storm of historical proportions, Hurricane Milton. The storm recalls the trauma of Hurricane Katrina and the misinformation that targeted the Black community during that disaster which led to so many unnecessary deaths. Now we're seeing more misinformation than ever–what lessons do we draw from Katrina and how do we avoid the worst with Milton? FEMA Rumor Response: www.fema.gov/disaster/current/hurricane-helene/rumor-response Florida Division of Emergency on X/Twitter : https://x.com/FLSERT Florida Shelter Info: https://www.floridadisaster.org/shelter-status South Carolina Emergency Management: https://www.scemd.org/ And Tiffany shares a story about getting put into a confrontational interview in front of high school students, at an event where she found herself surrounded by unfriendly white conservatives. How do we act when we find ourselves in what feels like an alternate universe (with alternate facts)? And of course we'll hear from you, our #NLPFam listeners. If you'd like to submit a question, check out our tutorial video: www.instagram.com/reel/C5j_oBXLIg0/. We are 26 days away from the election. Welcome home y'all! —--------- We want to hear from you! Send us a video @nativelandpod and we may feature you on the podcast. Instagram X/Twitter Facebook NativeLandPod.com Watch full episodes of Native Land Pod here on YouTube. Thank you to the Native Land Pod team: Angela Rye as host, executive producer and cofounder of Reasoned Choice Media; Tiffany Cross as host and producer, Andrew Gillum as host and producer, and Lauren Hansen as executive producer; Loren Mychael is our research producer, and Nikolas Harter is our editor and producer. Special thanks to Chris Morrow and Lenard McKelvey, co-founders of Reasoned Choice Media. Theme music created by Daniel Laurent.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
The chumps chat about Jeff's hair update, Justin's shirtless activities, and Michael's pirate-y date.• • • Want more Jeff Lewis? Click here to sign up for 3 free months of SiriusXM and listen weekdays to "Jeff Lewis Live" at 12pE/9aP and “Jeff Lewis Extended” at 1pE/10aP on Radio Andy Channel 102. Plus, tune into The Jeff Lewis Channel for even more Jeff content streaming exclusively on the SiriusXM app channel 789.• • • Host - Jeff LewisGuests - Justin Sylvester, Michael Hitchcock, & Shane DouglasExecutive Producer - Alyssa HeimrichSenior Producer & Editor - Jamison ScalaPhone Screener – Oscar Beltran
In a time when police around the country were rightfully being criticized for killing a rising number of unarmed Black men, guess whose fault it was, according to Senate candidate Eric Hovde? To him, the fault lies with then-President Barack Obama who, he claimed, used race to generate anger. In happier news: the Biden-Harris administration is now officially saving taxpayers billions of dollars in lower prescription drug prices. UpNorthNews with Pat Kreitlow airs on several stations across the Civic Media radio network, Monday through Friday from 6-8 am. Subscribe to the podcast to be sure not to miss out on a single episode! To learn more about the show and all of the programming across the Civic Media network, head over to https://civicmedia.us/shows to see the entire broadcast line up. Follow the show on Facebook, X, and Instagram to keep up with Pat & the show. Guest: Keya Vakil
George Clooney, Rob Reiner, Stephen King and others are asking for Joe Biden to step down. Is this a knee jerk reaction? Or do they have a point? JoJo from Jerz and Jess Piper debate. Subscribe to JoJo's Substack! You will dig it! https://jojofromjerz.substack.com/Are Rich White Dudes OK? George Clooney asks President Biden to step downSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
Great fun on a Feisty Friday with Sheletta Brundidge as she joins Chad to talk about her specific requirements for her next husband, making sure Chad stays outside the gates of the Minneapolis Club and much more!
Check me out on other social media platformsTwitter.com Hardtalkradio Live in 4kInstagram Hardtalk79https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/. .https://rumble.com/v2z31w8-july-9-202..https://cash.app/$HARDTRADIO Feel free to donate if you feel to do so and like the content.If you have any current event stories or videos that you want me to cover hit me up at HardTalkRadio1979@gmail.com
Thinking of starting a business? Our guest on this episode is Kathryn Finney, author of the book, "BUILD THE DAMN THING: How to Start a Successful Business If You're Not a Rich White Guy". Her website is https://www.kathrynfinney.com/
Donald Trump has gotten a break yet again from the undemocratic judicial system. An appeals court in New York reduced Trump's bond from $454 Million to $175 Million. That is a privilege in action. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/politicsdoneright/message
This is The Soapbox. Today, Kieran Cuddihy was joined by Brendan Ogle, social commentator, trade unionist and activis to discuss how communities are fighting back against the far-right...
Rich White studies cancer as a professor at Oxford University. Rich is not only a brilliant physician-scientist but also a great friend of Itai Yanai, one of the two Night Science hosts. In this episode, Rich talks about how often the process that led to a particular result can be more interesting than the result itself – something that is true not only in science but also in fields such as art or writing. He emphasizes that the best research strategy depends greatly on the researcher's personality. He himself thrives on being on the edge of a field, ideally working on a common question with scientists from different disciplines or even philosophers and historians. Rich recounts how he identifies new questions by finding connections between the edge cases of several papers – observations the authors couldn't make sense of, but still put in their manuscripts. And Rich and Itai reveal the true story behind one of their joint papers, where the breakthrough came in an open-ended creative meeting from staring at the data – after a first, much more boring draft had already been written!This episode was supported by Research Theory (researchtheory.org) and the Independent Media Initiative (theimi.co). For more information on Night Science, visit https://www.biomedcentral.com/collections/night-science .
It's Thanksgiving week! Limitless football, endless food, and a time to celebrate what's important to you (such as football and food). We love you! And we love football and food.
Ever feel like no matter how hard you shake the money tree, the fruit only falls for certain folks?
It is widely acknowledged that our society faces a profound issue of wealth inequality. The entrenchment of systemic racism and patriarchy has amplified the advantages enjoyed by affluent white men. Over the last thirty years, the wealthiest white males have seen their fortunes grow, while those living in poverty have experienced a deepening of their financial struggles.In this compelling and thought-provoking episode, we have the privilege of sitting down with Garrett Neiman, a Nonprofit Entrepreneur & Social Justice Writer, to delve deep into the themes of his latest book, Rich White Men, and the role that white men can play in constructing an equitable society. As a prominent voice in the realm of social justice, Garrett has dedicated his life to shedding light on the issues of privilege, power, and inequality. His book challenges conventional notions and provides valuable insights into the role that white men can play as allies in dismantling systemic barriers and creating a more inclusive world.For full show notes, visit: https://www.lifteconomy.com/blog/garrett-neiman/
A pretty fascinating nugget came out of the conversation between Stigall and O'Reilly today as he visits to promote his new "Killing Series" book called "Killing the Witches." Bob Menendez offers the most amazing explanation for having $500K in cash around the house you've ever heard. The Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce supernova story continues. Steve Moore drops by to discuss a litany of disastrous economic news and what he thinks about an end of the week government shutdown. - For more info visit the official website: https://chrisstigall.com Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/chrisstigallshow/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/ChrisStigall Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/chris.stigall/ Listen on Spotify: https://tinyurl.com/StigallPod Listen on Apple Podcasts: https://bit.ly/StigallShowSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Nunca escuchaste un episodio donde te respondan tantas preguntas! En el episodio 41 Lucas Lopatin y Cristobal Perdomo responden las preguntas de los oyentes y nos cuentan sobre algunas compañías que están llamando la atención. OnlyFans: gran modelo de negocios? Lucas nos cuenta unos números sorprendentes sobre la aplicación y discute con Cristobal sobre el funcionamiento de la plataforma y qué es lo que la está llevando a generar tanto éxito. Rich white boys y qué esta pasando con el mundo de las startups en LATAM? Cristobal nos cuentá por que los VC's prefieren invertir en apellidos conocidos y a dónde irá a parar este sistema. MELI compra Rappi? la pregunta del millón, tenes que escuchar la opinión de Lucas y Cristobal. La muerte de twitter. El mayor fan de Twitter de este podcast nos cuenta qué pasó con el algoritmo y por qué Twitter ahora es “aburrido” Tenes que escuchar este gran episodio! __ Links Mencionados: OnlyFans Revenue: https://www.businessinsider.com/onlyfans-see-increased-in-revenue-profit-creators-2023-8 1 2 3 Milhas: https://infonet.com.br/noticias/cidade/apos-suspender-viagens-123milhas-pede-recuperacao-judicial/ On the internet nobody knows you're a dog: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/On_the_Internet,_nobody_knows_you're_a_dog Tenes alguna pregunta? Escribinos y seguinos en: Twitter: @CristobaPerdomo y @llopatin Linkedin: Lucas Lopatin y Cristobal Perdomo y Visitá: Indie Build Wollef --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/indie-vs-unicornio/message
We speak with Garrett Neiman, author of RICH WHITE MEN: What It Takes to Uproot the Old Boys' Club and Transform America, and he breaks down how rich white men think about capitalism, tending to finances, and how these views influence politics.This show is part of the Spreaker Prime Network, if you are interested in advertising on this podcast, contact us at https://www.spreaker.com/show/5189985/advertisement
Guest Garrett Neiman, author of RICH WHITE MEN: What It Takes to Uproot the Old Boys' Club and Transform America, goes into what it means to be a non-profit entrepuneur, someone who convinces the rich to put their money toward good causes. He breaks down how rich white men think about capitalism, tending to finances, and how these views influence politics.This show is part of the Spreaker Prime Network, if you are interested in advertising on this podcast, contact us at https://www.spreaker.com/show/5189985/advertisement
EPISODE 1552: In this KEEN ON show, Andrew talks to Garrett Neiman, author of RICH WHITE MEN about how tob uproot the old boy's club in order to transform America Garrett Neiman (he/him) is a serial nonprofit entrepreneur with a focus on social justice. Neiman was the founding CEO of CollegeSpring, a national college access nonprofit that was recognized by the Obama White House. He was also a co-creator of Liberation Ventures, a philanthropic fund focused on building power toward federal reparations. Neiman has a BA in Economics from Stanford, an MBA from Harvard Business School, and a Masters in Public Policy from Harvard Kennedy School. Currently, he serves as a Senior Fellow at Prosperity Now and an Adjunct Lecturer at the Stanford Center on Poverty and Inequality. He lives in Boston, Massachusetts. Named as one of the "100 most connected men" by GQ magazine, Andrew Keen is amongst the world's best known broadcasters and commentators. In addition to presenting KEEN ON, he is the host of the long-running How To Fix Democracy show. He is also the author of four prescient books about digital technology: CULT OF THE AMATEUR, DIGITAL VERTIGO, THE INTERNET IS NOT THE ANSWER and HOW TO FIX THE FUTURE. Andrew lives in San Francisco, is married to Cassandra Knight, Google's VP of Litigation & Discovery, and has two grown children. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Jack is trying to get Michael to invest in his new products when, you're not going to believe this, but something wacky happens. Proud members of The PodMoth Network: http://PodMoth.network http://Patreon.com/JackBillings Follow us on Instagram: JackBillingsPresents Follow us on Facebook: Jack Billings Presents Haunted Apartment Complex on the Podmoth Network Follow us on Hive: @MichaelColby Email us: JackBillingsOfficial@Gmail.com Theme song by Kyle Check of the band Devil's Advocate, check them out: http://Facebook.com/DevilsAdvocateMetal Check out our other podcasts: No Time to Binge, Generation Clash, I Love This Terrible Game Mason Amadeus (Zack Doverbranch): PodCube (@PodCube on Twitter) Zack Wiseman and Dylan Terry (Adam Lynch and Marcus Fiasco): http://SomeNobodies.com Gary Williams (Herbert Robert Biloxley): http://BackRoomNetwork.com Gabrielle Lewis (Hazel Kyles, Danielle Victoria, Scout Martin) Instagram @Lewsthebooze Poppy Jenkins (Starshimmer Dragonlilly/Dark Wolf Moon 69): T'Pon's Theater on Subspace Kevin Train Moxley (Kevin Train Moxley): Really needs to get a website. Until then, follow him on Twitter @KevinTrainMoxley Zion and Storm (Goliath Hogan and Zion): https://linktr.ee/alloverpod Kathryn (Chug Nasty): https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/saturdays-are-for-the-ghouls/id1570983561 Shelby (Lennox Hall): https://www.addictedtocrime.org Nina Russo (Dalia "The Ferret" DiAntonia): https://Twitch.tv/TinyNeenja Bee Hyland (Trixie Smithson) podcasts: Deep Lore, Is This Podcast a Jojo Reference, and This Bizarre Adventure Keith Long (G. H. Chesterton) https://www.wattpad.user/LosersWatt Sounds and music By Zapsplat.com and https://www.fesliyanstudios.com/ About today's ad: https://podmoth.network/
Welcome to Camden - home of Werewolf Beer. In the latest episode of The Brewers Journal Podcast, we return to North London to catch up with Rich White, the founder of Werewolf Beer. Recorded live at the brewery, to accompany our new Brewers Journal video series, we speak about Werewolf's commitment to classic US styles, the challenges and opportunities of running your own business, welcoming his new sales manager Josh Curran and his hopes and ambitions for the year ahead.
For today's show, I'm joined by my friend and now co-worker, Rich White from Emergence!Rich is a multi time guest on the podcast and was most recently on in Episode 28. Last time, Rich was asking most of the questions and we dove deep into a blog post I did for Emergence about "Bridging the Gap" between return to play and performance.This time we are tackling part 2 of the blog series, titles "Injury and Affordance Perception".This is a really important topic that doesn't get discussed enough. Injuries affect much more than just the motor system, and we dive into that topic today!If you like today's episode, leave a review here....If you want to reach me directly, contact me on social media or shoot me @javier@emergentmvmt.com.Looking to learn more about skill acquisition and sport movement?..Visit the Emergence website and take the next step in your coaching career. Episode Resources:My blog post Part 1 of the blog Episode 28Credits: Song- "Starstruck" by Freebeats.ioLet's Chat!Twitter: @thecoachjavIG: @thecoachjavCredits: Song- "Starstruck" by Freebeats.io Let's Chat!Twitter: @thecoachjavIG: @thecoachjav
Support us on Patreonhttp://patreon.com/FandFPodToday's guest is Rich White.Rich is a Standup Comedian and Tattoo Artist from Action Tattoo & Piercing. He specializes in black and grey portrait tattoos. He's also a professional poker player.In this episode, the two discuss: Rich's start in stand up comedy in Auburn just 7 months ago and how it landed him at The Comedy Store in L.A (03:00), the art of bombing on stage and tattooing in a parlor (21:25), and possibly the most disgusting/disturbing piercing story ever uttered on air (44:22).AND SO MUCH MORE!Follow Rich:https://www.instagram.com/richwhite/Follow the Pod: https://www.instagram.com/fandfpodFor more content: https://www.adamtillercomedy.comIntro Music: “End of the World”, Travis ThompsonOutro Music: “.wavpool”, JagaStorytime Theme Song: Tirey, Jake Allen, and Depressica.
Katy Chen-Mazzara joins us on the show today to help us explain why taking financial advice from privileged white guys is not the move. That's right- we're doing a deep dive into the not-so-wise words of Dave Ramsey. Meg and Katy chat about the nuances that folks like Ramsey completely gloss over to create one-size-fits-all programs that really fit nobody. Join us as we discuss: The hypocrisy and double standards of “advisors” like Dave Ramsey Why debt isn't automatically a dirty word What is involved in creating generational wealth The worst piece of Dave Ramsey financial “advice” at 30:00 Navigating job loss while keeping your finances afloat Need to get your money stuff set up right? Join the Biz Money Library for Free- https://equitablemoneyproject.com/free Submit Your Questions - DisruptYourMoney.com Leave A Review- Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen Katy Chen Mazzara is a certified trauma-informed Master financial wellness coach and graduate of UC Berkeley's Personal Financial Planning Program. As a former freelance TV producer and award-winning documentary filmmaker, Katy understands the balance between dreaming and doing. She helps creative freelancers and entrepreneurs release generational traumas and fears so that they can find emotional and financial freedom. You can learn more about Katy on her website, follow her on Instagram @katychenmazzara. Retreat information can be found here.
Thinking of starting a business? Our guest on this episode is Kathryn Finney, author of the new book, "BUILD THE DAMN THING: How to Start a Successful Business If You're Not a Rich White Guy". Her website is https://www.kathrynfinney.com/ We're excited to tell you about another great product from our sponsor, Ritual. It's called Synbiotic+ and it's a daily 3-in-1 clinically-studied prebiotic, probiotic, and postbiotic designed to help support a balanced gut microbiome. Ritual's Synbiotic+ provides two of the world's most clinically studied probiotic strains to support the relief of mild and occasional digestive discomforts, like bloating, gas, and diarrhea. Synbiotic+ and Ritual are here to celebrate, not hide, your insides. It's time to listen to your gut! Ritual is offering our Nobody Told Me! listeners 10% off during your first 3 months. Visit ritual.com/NTM to start Ritual or add Synbiotic+ to your subscription today.
Singtones and Ringtones by iServalan at Tale Teller ClubYou have arrived at the Ringtone factory and the ringtone queen iServalan. Come on in to our cutting edge recording studio with daily bonus music to download and great digital music tips with iServalan, the composer and artist at the Tale Teller Club.We also just launched the new singtone collection featuring female vocal ringtones, female vocal backing songs and loads of uber fab free stuff for our musicians looking for great free content.#backing #backingsingers #suzuki #suzukischool #female_vocals #AI #immersion #sci-fi #adventure #books #midjourney #beats #digital #audio #tech #library #loops #ringtones #funk #phonk #driftphonk #rap #trap #house #sub #technology #subwoofa #bass #jungle #memphis #southern #music #latin #hiphop #bonus #giveaway #thrash #punk #metal #musicpodcasts #musician #composer Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
On this episode of the Startup of the Year Podcast, we hear an interview with Kathryn Finney that took place at SXSW. Kathryn is a longtime community contributor and she is the Founder and Managing General Partner of Genius Guild, a Chicago-based venture fund that invests in scalable businesses led by Black founders using innovation to build and promote healthy communities. She had a new book published last summer titled, “Build The Damn Thing: How to Start a Successful Business if You're Not a Rich White Guy,” that made the Wall Street Journal bestsellers list in its first week of release. Check out the book today at: https://a.co/d/6usDLzd We also again mention an event that we have coming up on May 15 - 18, the SBA will host the second America's Seed Fund Week. This series of virtual events connects startups and small businesses working on advanced technologies to the country's largest source of early-stage funding. America's Seed Fund serves as a springboard by providing over $4 billion in funding to early-stage startups and small businesses each year as innovators take their technology from R&D through to commercialization. Check out more about the event and register today at: https://www.americasseedfund.us Lastly, we again shine a spotlight on one of the startups from our community and that company is PayBee, which is an all-in-one fundraising events platform built for nonprofits hosting events in any format. Paybee's event features provide you the ability to streamline your fundraising event planning, executing and follow-up using cutting edge technology tools. Go to https://www.paybee.io to learn more! We invite you all to join our community today to access the support, expert advice, and resources you need to elevate your startup by going to: www.est.us/join Thank you for listening, and as always, please check out the Established website and subscribe to the newsletter at: www.est.us Checkout Startup of the Year at: www.startupofyear.com Subscribe to the Startup of the Year Daily Deal Flow: www.startupofyear.com/daily-dealflow Subscribe to the Startup of the Year podcast: www.podcast.startupofyear.com Subscribe to the Established YouTube Channel: soty.link/ESTYouTube *** Startup of the Year helps diverse, emerging startups, founding teams, and entrepreneurs push their company to the next level. We are a competition, a global community, and a resource. Startup of the Year is also a year-long program that searches the country for a geographically diverse set of startups from all backgrounds and pulls them together to compete for the title of Startup of the Year. The program includes a number of in-person and virtual events, including our annual South By Southwest startup pitch event and competition. All of which culminate at our annual Startup of the Year Summit, where the Startup of the Year winner is announced, along with an opportunity at a potential investment. Established is a consultancy focused on helping organizations with innovation, startup, and communication strategies. It is the power behind Startup of the Year. Created by the talent responsible for building the Tech.Co brand (acquired by an international publishing company), we are leveraging decades of experience to help our collaborators best further (or create) their brand & accomplish their most important goals. Connect with us on Twitter - @EstablishedUs and Facebook - facebook.com/established.us
Welcome to Hey Sober Vegan, the podcast that dives into the connection between sobriety and veganism. Join host Jess Stor as she speaks with thought leaders and brands that are shaping the movement towards a more mindful life. You'll hear stories of transformation and learn about new perspectives on how ditching booze and eating more plants can improve your life.In this episode, Jess sits down with Rich, the other half of Hey Sober Vegan, to discuss their own experiences with sobriety and their journey as vegans for over 6 years. They'll share how sobriety has impacted their lives and how they've been able to maintain a healthy, fulfilling lifestyle while staying true to their values.Join our supportive community and be inspired by these thought-provoking discussions on how you can lead a more mindful life. Don't forget to follow us on Instagram for more updates and insights on sobriety and veganism. Thank you for being part of the Hey Sober Vegan journey, let's continue to explore the intersection of these two transformative movements together.Support the showWant to support the show?The best way to support the show is by leaving a review on the Apple Podcast app and/or sharing your favourite episodes with your friends and family.Read our blog at Hey Sober VeganWatch the episodes on Youtube or listen on Apple/SpotifyConnect with us on Instagram, Twitter and FacebookShop the merch at Hey Sober Vegan Shop
We've met some brilliant product minds on this show over the years. If you're a long-time listener you hopefully enjoyed discussions with legends like Phil McKinney, former CTO of HP, and Philippe Cases, founder and CEO of Topio Networks, among others. Today's guest belongs on that list. Rich and I first met when he was starting UserVoice around 2010 and I was at ServiceNow. I love his approach to innovation. He pioneered the idea that listening to customers can be as easy as adding a feedback tab to every web page back when all that existed were clunky survey tools. Today, thousands of sites use the widget he invented. He's now out to make meetings more productive by helping attendees focus on conversations while an app transcribes them and offers simple buttons to annotate what's happening. It's obvious once you've used Fathom that this is the future of meetings.Rich White is not only a serial innovator but also a repeat entrepreneur who has raised from a group of exceptional investors over the years and was part of the YC Winter 2021 batch. Enjoy!Listen and learn...As a product expert and innovator, how to know when you've found "an itch worth scratching"What is "product-market fit" and how to know when you've achieved itWhat is a viral coefficient and how do you calculate itHow the "jobs to be done" framework led Rich to develop the key feature of FathomThe hardest problem Fathom has solved... has nothing to do with voice transcriptionHow Fathom trains developers to practice responsible AIReferences in this episode:Project Linchpin from the US Army is centralizing more than 685 AI projectsPhil McKinney on AI and the Future of WorkPhilippe Cases on AI and the Future of WorkFathom
Kim Kelly, labor journalist extraordinaire and author of Fight Like Hell, joins Danielle for a discussion of the year in labor rights and what good trouble 2023 may bring. Support Woke AF Daily at Patreon.com/WokeAF to see the full video edition of today's show, and hundreds more.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Longevity coaches, longevity experts, TV shows, movements in favour of it. Why does it seem that a certain group of humans are currently obsessed with extending their lives to the max? Today we look at why some Silicon Valley bros and Hollywood superstars are pill popping and biohacking in an attempt to crack immortality. Subscribe to Mamamia GET IN TOUCH Feedback? We're listening! Call the pod phone on 02 8999 9386 or email us at podcast@mamamia.com.au CONTACT US Got a topic you'd like us to cover? Send us an email at thequicky@mamamia.com.au CREDITS Host: Claire Murphy With thanks to: Norman Swan - Host of ABC's Coronacast and Health Report and author of So You Want To Live Younger Longer? Producer: Claire Murphy Executive Producer: Liv Proud Audio Producer: Thom LionBecome a Mamamia subscriber: https://www.mamamia.com.au/subscribeSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
-- Thank you to our sponsors: ButcherBox: Sign up today at butcherbox.com/NOCHASER and use code: NOCHASER DoorDash: For a limited time, our listeners can also enjoy a gift for themselves with 50% off up to a $20 value, and $0 delivery fees when you download the DoorDash app and enter code TIM BlueChew: Try BlueChew FREE when you use our promo code: Tim at checkout--just pay $5 shipping. That's BlueChew.com -- promo code: Tim to receive your first month FREE ZocDoc: Go to ZocDoc.com/TIM and download the Zocdoc app for FREE. Then start your search for a top-rated doctor today. Many are available within 24 hours! -- Tim Chantarangsu @timchantarangsu Nikki Blades @nikkiblades Ricky Shucks @rickyshucksSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
The Clarey Podcast - The How Rich White Women Destroyed America Episode by Aaron Clarey
The Great Invasion of Martha's Vineyard has revealed an ugly truth — that rich white liberals are actually intolerant racists.California Assemblyman Tom Lackey, David Limbaugh, Sen. Marsha Blackburn, Pastor Paul Chapell, and Art Ally join the conversation!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
It's a Victory Monday! We start the show with our Number 1s and Number 2s from the game. Is Aaron Jones capable of being THE guy week-in and week-out? Frankie Winters hops on with us! Jaire Alexander gave us the sound of the weekend.
[00:30] Meltdown at the Vineyard (33 minutes) Florida Governor Ron DeSantis flew 50 Venezuelan migrants to Martha's Vineyard on Wednesday night, and the island's liberal residents, the media and many politicians had a complete meltdown. Hillary Clinton and media personalities called it “human trafficking.” Welcome to America, where sending 50 migrants to a ritzy liberal holiday haven is evil, but leaving the border open for millions of illegals—many of whom die on the way or are are trafficked once they arrive—is humane. Yesterday, DeSantis correctly identified this behavior as fraudulent “virtue signaling.” Democrats love wide-open borders until the results of widespread lawlessness show up in their neighborhoods. [33:15] Lee Smith on the Mar-a-Lago Raid (4 minutes) In an August interview with Breitbart, Lee Smith dropped some truth bombs about the Obama administration, the media and the Mar-a-Lago raid. Smith said the effort to attack Donald Trump “started with the Obama administration …. There is no way any of this [was] happening without the White House knowing about it.” [37:40] Don't Give Up! (18 minutes) The spirit of the age is to give up and stop fighting when the battle becomes difficult. But the Bible says that “a just man falleth seven times, and riseth up again” (Proverbs 24:16). As Thomas Edison stated, “Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.” Although we face daily battles, the ultimate reward is worth the struggle!
Today, we invited Rich White to share more about the future of Fathom and his strategy for growth, funding, product, his team and even advice for the bootstrapped startup founder. You'll learn how to use cold emailing the right way, how to gain investors, how to differentiate yourself from your competitors and explore other ways to build your startup through partnerships with marketplaces like AppSumo, Product Hunt and G2. Rich is a very hands on CEO and his key piece of advice here is to stay focused on the discipline you are great at for as long as possible and hire your weaknesses. Connect with Richhttps://www.linkedin.com/in/rrwhite/Get a free Fathom.Video account https://fathom.video/invite/qRCrDQ See you next week. Our GDPR privacy policy was updated on August 8, 2022. Visit acast.com/privacy for more information.
Mary Trump, host and best selling author, discusses her thoughts on the latest bombshells dropped by the January 6th committee and whether or not her infamous uncle, Donald Trump, will be held responsible for his crimes against the United States. Mary also makes the case as to why the Republican Party hasn't been "infiltrated" by white supremacy--because it's just who they are. This and more on the latest episode of democracy-ish with hosts Danielle and Wajahat. Hosts: Danielle Moodie & Wajahat Ali Executive Producer: Adell Coleman Senior Producer: Quinton Hill Distributor: DCP Entertainment Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Today, we invited Rich White to share more about the future of Fathom and his strategy for growth, funding, product, his team and even advice for the bootstrapped startup founder. You'll learn how to use cold emailing the right way, how to gain investors, how to differentiate yourself from your competitors and explore other ways to build your startup through partnerships with marketplaces like AppSumo, Product Hunt and G2.
Today, we invited Rich White to share more about the future of Fathom and his strategy for growth, funding, product, his team and even advice for the bootstrapped startup founder. You'll learn how to use cold emailing the right way, how to gain investors, how to differentiate yourself from your competitors and explore other ways to build your startup through partnerships with marketplaces like AppSumo, Product Hunt and G2.
Our guest on this episode is Kathryn Finney, author of the new book, "BUILD THE DAMN THING: How to Start a Successful Business If You're Not a Rich White Guy". Her website is https://www.kathrynfinney.com/ Thanks to our sponsors of this episode! -->Aurate: Aurate is a fine jewelry brand which offers amazing quality at affordable prices. Because Aurate sells directly to you, without the middleman markup, they can offer the same quality as traditional 5th avenue brands at a fraction of the cost. Aurate's gold feels substantial and the diamonds sparkle and shine. Aurate is looking to set the standard for women because they deserve the best—always reminding them to set the gold bar high! Go to www.auratenewyork.com/nobodytoldme and use promo code nobodytoldme to get 20% off. -->Castus: CASTUS is a team of business development experts that enables B2B e-commerce to streamline the relationship between wholesalers and resellers. They create custom digital storefronts that cater to both your products and buyers to drive online orders and strengthen brand loyalty. Castus's in-depth expertise working in backend logistics to frontend consumer experiences, and everything in between makes them the perfect full-cycle partner for your business growth. Visit their website, castusglobal.com/nobodytoldme to set up a no-obligation, one-on-one consultation with one of their experts and learn more! --> AirMedCare Network: AirMedCare Network provides world-class air transport services to the nearest, appropriate hospital or trauma center. AMCN Members have the added value of knowing their flight expenses are completely covered when flown by an AMCN provider. For as little as $85 a year, it covers your entire household, every day, 24/7, even when traveling. AMCN is the largest medical air transport membership in the country, covering 38 states. For just pennies a day, you can worry less about what matters most. This is security no family should be without. Now, as a Nobody Told Me! listener, you'll get up to a $50 eGift Card when you join. Visit www.airmedcarenetwork.com/nobody and use the offer code NOBODY. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
This week on the SwordCast we dive fully into our Star Wars: Obi-Wan review, and finally breakdown Stranger Things Season 4! Also, we share our Top 5 Comic Villains of all time! What's Your Top 5?
Topics: - Gun laws are for the working class only. - What does "reasonable" mean within the law? - Most mass shooters are rich? ---------- HELP US WITH THE FRIDGE: www.moneyyy.me/$BUILDINGOURPOWER MERCH: www.teepublic.com/user/buildingourpwr --------------- Follow us www.linktr.ee/buildingourpwr www.twitter.com/kt_doesart www.instagram.com/gabbeatsmusic www.twitter.com/gabbeatsmusic
Today I'm joined by the internet's favorite Rich White Lady, Nicholas Flannery. Nicholas blew up on Tiktok in the midst of the pandemic drawing inspiration from many a rich white lady. Think deep sighs, dropped wine glasses, and lots of family drama with the sound of the Big Little Lies soundtrack in the background. Nicholas and I dive into how Rich White Lady came to be, a bit about him (he's from the UK! Who knew?!) how he finds his inspiration and shows we both love to watch. Nicholas even manages to get some of our faves over in the UK. Nicholas was an absolute delight and I know you're going to love this episode. You can find Nicholas on Tiktok at Nicholas_Flannery and Instagram at Nicholasflannery. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices