Podcasts about screamed

The Personal Computer Show Wednesday January 15th 8th 2025 PRN.live Streaming on the Internet 6:00 PM Eastern Time In the News  Mark Zuckerberg Tells Joe Rogan, Biden Aides ‘Cursed' and ‘Screamed'  Microsoft bets on Copilot+ PCs and Windows 11  Honey's Deal-Hunting Browser Extension Accused of Ripping Off Customers and YouTubers  OpenAI and Microsoft Secret Definition for AGI (Artificial General Intelligence) and 100 Billion Dollars Profit  Major Breakthrough in Developing Next-Gen Replacement for Lithium-ion Batteries ITPro Series with Benjamin Rockwell The Simple Math of When to Upgrade a Computer From the Tech Corner  Be Aware of What Information You Input into ChatGPT  Passports May Soon Become Obsolete as Facial Recognition and Smart Phones Take Over  NASA's Deep Space Mission Control is Unattended as L.A. Wildfires Rage Technology Chatter with Benjamin Rockwell and Marty Winston  Powering up at Trade Shows and Elsewhere, j5create Power Bank 

On this episode of TMZ Live: Ryan Reynolds 'never screamed' at Justin Baldoni despite director's tirade accusation, Meghan McCain slams 'tone deaf' Meghan Markle, new video shows path of terror on Bourbon Street, and Jon Cryer issues warning ahead of Trump inauguration. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Motherhood is a whirlwind of emotions, and sometimes, despite our best intentions, the overwhelm takes over. Maybe it's the relentless to-do list, the school holiday chaos, or just the weight of juggling everything, there comes a moment when we snap. And then? The guilt creeps in.In this episode, Dr Renee White sits down to reflect on one of those raw parenting moments, the kind we don't often talk about. Just two hours after an emotional outburst with her child, Renee recorded this to unpack the why, the how, and most importantly, the what's next. If you've ever felt the sting of mum rage or the heaviness of guilt, this episode is for you.You'll hear about:Understanding Mum Rage: What triggers those intense moments and why they're more common than you think.Repair and Reconnect: Steps to mend your bond with your child after an emotional outburst.Processing Guilt in a Healthy Way: Tools to work through your feelings, like journaling, movement, and self-compassion.Role Modelling for Your Kids: How navigating your emotions can teach your children about resilience and empathy.You're not alone in this journey, and those tough moments don't define you as a parent. What matters most is how we show up afterward, ready to reconnect and grow.Resources and Links:Learn more about Dr Renee White and Explore Fill Your Cup Doula ServicesWant to be nurtured and nourished after the birth of your baby, have a peek at our doula offerings.If you want to gobble up our famous Chocolate + Goji lactation cookies, look no further!Disclaimer: The information on this podcast presented by the Fill Your Cup is not a substitute for independent professional advice.Nothing contained in this podcast is intended to be used as medical advice and it is not intended to be used to diagnose, treat, cure or prevent any disease, nor should it be used for therapeutic purposes or as a substitute for your own health professional's advice.

Join host Jeremiah Byron with the Bigfoot Society podcast as Brian shares his harrowing encounter with a white Bigfoot in Victoria, Illinois, during the 4th of July weekend in 1972. Brian, at 11 years old, witnessed a massive, cream-colored creature alongside friends. This episode delves deep into the specifics of the sighting, describes the creature's appearance and movements, and considers other reported sightings in the region during the same period.

Show Notes: https://docs.google.com/document/d/13aZZxeZU80ybQJuOzGC_Zv2-3GKFu6uJu44_vV-tmMs/

Short story about a crazy Karen and a giant Snake.

There's a running joke at Hindustan Unilever's Mumbai Headquarters. If a new hire is assigned to the ice cream division, it's immediately clear that they aren't in the company's inner circle. But if you're handed Surf Excel, Brooke Brond, or Glow & Lovely, it means you are in the big leagues.Right now, that pecking order is clearer than ever. Just last month, the FMCG giant went ahead and decided to demerge its ice cream business. The decision has already received in principal approval from the company's board. Assuming that it clears all the other approvals and procedures, it would mean that refrigerator staples like Magnum, Cornetto and Kwality Walls will all come under a separately listed entity. This at a time when the ice cream space has been heating up…not literally of course. New age players like Hocco, NIC and Noto have all entered the market and collectively contributed to a sort of ice cream renaissance. So, shouldn't HUL be focussing on growing its ice cream business rather than isolating it?Tune in. Listen to the latest episode of Two by Two hereDaybreak is now on WhatsApp at +918971108379. Text us and tell us what you thought of the episode!Daybreak is produced from the newsroom of The Ken, India's first subscriber-only business news platform. Subscribe for more exclusive, deeply-reported, and analytical business stories.Listen to the latest episode of Two by Two here

This week we bring you guys the WORST Wedding Stories, Jamo getting screamed at in public and plenty more madness. The wedding stories start from 26:16 xoxo Show Notes: Christmas Spirit & is the great holiday back?! Jam packed December Exhausted Jamo & Driving Tired Spice Bags / Boxes (the Irish x China collab) Our rivalry with Rog's uni mates 6 aside update Dylan's movie review Zero Five Avenue Learning Spanish with a listener Wedding stories / confessions North West's Japanese song We want you guys to make us a part of your Monday routine! Have a good week xx Rate us 5 stars and leave a nice review please squires. Make sure to subscribe to us for weekly poddies, we're best mates who love to take the piss out of what life has to offer ALL OF OUR LINKS BELOW https://jamoanddylan.komi.io/ BOOK US ON CAMEO https://www.cameo.com/jamoanddylanSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Send us a textEpisode 113: The MothmanI have some news to share! I have a new co-host! Welcome Megan to Operation Evil! She appeared as a guest in episode 112 and now she's official! We are so excited to began this adventure together!www.newspapers.comBeckley Post-Herald The Raleigh Register, “He Fears Mothman May Flee ‘These Here Hills'” By Harry PeckThe Raleigh Register, “Bug Dust - Flying Saucer ‘Expert' Here in November” By John HodelSunday Gazette-Mail, “Mothman, UFOs and Woodpeckers” By Terry Marchalhttps://www.wvencyclopedia.org/entries/1369The Charlotte Observer, “Mothman keeps em coming to W.Va. Town” By Tom BreenSun-Journal, “Mysterious Moth-Man Still at Large”Green Bay Press-Gazette, “Do Monsters Exist in America?” By Warren SmithExpress-News, “Screamed”https://transportation.wv.gov/highways/bridge_facts/Modern-Bridges/Pages/Silver.aspx#:~:text=At%205%20p.m.%20on%20December,two%20whose%20bodies%20were%20neverhttps://allthatsinteresting.com/history-uncovered/mothman#:~:text=After%20the%20Silver%20Bridge%20collapsed,warn%20of%20the%20impending%20tragedy.https://myfwc.com/wildlifehabitats/profiles/birds/cranes/sandhill-crane/https://www.amazon.com/Trail-Lake-Michigan-Mothman/dp/B09MBTQK6Khttps://folklife.si.edu/magazine/mothman-point-pleasant-west-virginiahttps://medium.com/illumination-curated/an-update-on-the-legendary-chicago-mothman-a4b46afdb01ahttps://www.singularfortean.com/mothman Patreon Supporter: https://www.patreon.com/operationevilpodcastBuy Me a Coffee: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/operationevil Link to Operation Evil Notebook for purchase: https://www.amazon.com/Operation-Evil-Notebook-Crime-Podcast/dp/B0BQY4RNRD/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1KD47LOHSZM1L&keywords=nyoka+johnson&qid=1677893619&sprefix=nyoka%2Caps%2C180&sr=8-1 Operation Evil's TikTok: @operationevilpodcastSupport the show

This entry in our 13 Days of Halloween series is a 1969 Spanish film, starring British, German and Spanish actors, set in France, and filmed in Spain. Listen as Matt & Ashley review The House That Screamed.

Ramli John - Founder of Delight Path, shares core memories from his teenage years that inspired his entrepreneurial journey. Explores how attaching his worth to his achievements was making him act like a jerk. Shares stories from the worst boss he ever had. And discusses the toughest feedback that he's received (and what he's doing about it).Ramli opens up about:1. Seeing his dad get laid off after 15 years and how that shook his belief in relying on one employer.2. A CEO screaming at their CTO and team members, creating a toxic work environment that pushed Ramli to leave.3. Ramli's realization that he was emulating Steve Jobs' harsh behavior and treating people poorly, which led him to seek therapy for a healthier approach to work and life.Things to listen for:(00:00) Ramli's new venture: Delight Path(06:26) Ramli's core childhood memory: layoffs are brutal(08:23) The emotional impact of his dad's layoff and starting his consulting business(18:59) Pressure to rush and overwork leads to mistreatment of others(22:52) The importance of therapy in overcoming our flat slides(28:20) Discussing the need for quiet reflection and the book "Quiet" by Susan Cain(30:58) Ramli's screamer CEO and sitting in a toxic work environment(38:52) Tough feedback and learning to speak up as an introvertResources:Connect with Ramli:LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/ramlijohn/ Delight Path: https://www.delightpath.com/ Product-Led Onboarding Book: https://productled.com/book/onboarding Connect with Andrew:LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/andrewcapland/ Hire Andrew as your coach: https://deliveringvalue.co/coachingThanks to our amazing sponsors!Learn more about Appcues: http://appcues.com/value Learn more about Navattic: http://navattic.com/value

Trainwreck of The Day Wednesday 10/09/24

For the second time in recent happenings, the scar on the inside of my bottom lip began to swell and heat up strangely, as if it were activating in some sort of way or still healing—the scar itself was almost 8 years old, and in fact— would be 8 years old with the coming of springtime. It was a strange sensation, though not entirely traumatic— and while also fighting off some sort of infection, my body in entirety wasn't altogether well, but the mark to me stood out anyhow, as just the other day after leaving the craft store, the scar had lifted bizarrely, swelling as if some sort of creature under the surface of the skin had been moving around just enough as a reminder that it was there at all—now, something like a week later, it began to tingle and heat as if it were in the process of mending itself, and though when it had been healing, bits of skin and pieces of my bottom lip which had come loose after my bottom row of teeth had gone through nearly to the other side— not quite puncturing all the way through, but enough to indent the outside of my mouth with some bruising and swelling reminiscent to that of having once pierced my lip; in fact— the damage was so apparent that it had created a swollen enough tunnel on my upper lip, where my canines had created marks to make make it easy enough to re-insert new jewelry into the old piercing which had closed over time, and now had been halfway reopened by the blunt force of my teeth connecting with my ex's fist. In fact, I took it well enough that re-piercing the old upper lip didn't hurt at all, and almost made it seem meant to be. Then, in my mind—I was still fragile. Six or so week postpartum and still heavily lactating, with severe depression after having learned of the infidelities committed throughout the entire duration of the relationship had left me in a frenzied state— I worked almost around the clock after being hired at the local veterinary clinic, the doctor of which I had known since I was seven years old, and who had been happy to hire me, and after having already lost something like a hundred pounds, I took to the job considerably well, completing my daily tasks to focus my energy and the duration of my shifts to running the boarding dogs, often saving the larger breeds for last—the greyhounds and labs, the retrievers— so that I could run as fast and as hard with them as I could, and with each dog, a set of squats, windmills, and burpees and jumping jacks before running each pup through the obstacle coarse in the yard, never eating on my lunch breaks really, but only ever stopping to pump milk— so that especially when running, I wouldn't create a mess. I had always over-lactated, even for a short time supplying milk for other children, and in particular—my very best friend, whose choice to quickly resume drinking after her son's birth dissallowed her to continue breastfeeding, and either way, I had more than I needed, besides the occasional lot added as coffee creamer by one such who had discovered the magical and medicinal property of fresh breastmilk. I was, of course, considerably smaller than I had ever been, probably since the fourth grade when procuring such a scar— and it only seemed at least somewhat believable and fitting that, when asked about the heavy swelling and bruising on my face and lips, that I had been hurt so tragically working out on the pavement— having falling doing pushups, or burpees, or something—to which no one seemed to have reason to believe otherwise; I had, after all, taken my level of fitness to new heights, and, after having lived so much of my adult and adolescent life anywhere between 250-350 lbs, once peaking at something like 380 or even more without the actual knowledge of such (always being asked politely if I wanted to know during doctor's visits, and of course, declining) my chaotic and frenzied state after the realization that the entire fabric of my relationship had been a complete lie, made sense to the outside world—and though without the bravery to actually admit to what had happened, the Doctor, after scolding me for not completing my daily tasks, just the day after this scar had been created, seemed to have let me go, not because of the actual incompletion of my duties, but as a harsh reckoning with knowing that I had lied directly to her face about what exactly had happened to mine. The years homelessness that followed was due to the eviction received after having lost this job, and though with steady and careful recovery I was able to break free from my abuser, the lack of family support and financial stability combined with this legal eviction on record would see my struggle as a survivor of the physical and psychological violence which occurred over this, nearly a decade's time, seen by the outside world as an antagonist— a sick person, a derilict, a disgrace. It would take years for the truth to surface and as it had, the strangeness of things began to occur as not things in my mind, but things in the world, which were very real—and though while still in harsh denial of any such things besides other, ever having happened, it was this that remained, this scar—now strangely heated and almost swollen as if again I should be reminded that this scar did indeed mark a death of sorts, the life after which had all been some sort of strange dream; a walk through the afterlife, sometimes carried on the wings of angels or even driven by chariot of The Gods. — Death of a Superstar DJ. Lights fade, Fade to black; Sacred stones and crystals cross eyed, Just across I, Desire my mark; The finish and the start line are one in the same So as soon as I finish, I start. Part I Do not disclose your location. No address, I guess. Stressed and headed for some sort of war zone I'm sure, No entitlements and I pushback, Push to start —I swear if you keep scrolling, I'll take your eyes out. I been yellow taxi'd Two four door Ford explorers, Nevermind the o'luck eye, Cause I am all for it. Party to the people! I need water, I mean, power. You wanted the Stand Up Special. I wanted nothing of the sort. You could be funny. Suddenly I'm sitting in the middle seat, My eye on - Seriously, I might not ever come out in public again Again Again Again. What are you channeling? Apparently, Jimmy Falllon and Natalie. What in the fuck are you wearing!? (A blazer and a fish scale.) What in the fuck are you trying to say? I'm trying to— Thank you I fainted and woke up in LA . Dang. If you're going to cry, You might as well do it at 10,000 feet in the air— —she's tied to her phone, the ensemble has gone. Nobody wants her around anymore, Nobody wants a new phone, not really. Nobody needs a new friend, not Fallon. I picked up the one thing I liked In the whole place And your name was on it. Is this fame, or magic!? Is this God, or a bludgeoning? I forgot where my heart went, Steered toward the fountain, naturally So the water would calm me. If this obviously-from-denver New balance wearing motherfucker doesn't get His long ass leg from within inches of mine, I swear all the way to God And all the way to— Where is this? —wherever. I'm gonna reach behind me, And kill him. You know you've been in New York too long When you don't have not a lick of patience Or time for anyone's bullshit. you: Shut it down. Shut it down! A slap across the face is just as well— —Is just as well. And a swift kick in the ass is We're back to the Irish, The turn of the times, And his eyes are mine again. FUCK THIS,. Just listen to me, for once. I listen to you a lot, voice in my head disguised as Who is this The devil. I guess. Great. So were the devil. Could be. Listen to your gut. Not the greatest idea! I'm hungry. Look, don't you touch me with those greasy little— #spirit fingers. LINCHTIME *LYNCHTIME. Goddamn. That misspelling took a TURN. Let's just— ITS JANE LYNCH TIME! That's—yeah. Listen, I have something to tell you. Does it have anything to do with— Get in the box. Why, what's in the box Damn. I don't have a lick of deadmau5 with me. And why is that. I was [redacted] I don't know.. You — might be the devil. If— maybe. In my eyes (In my eyes) I swear all the way to fucking GOD This long ass nigga With his dirty ass new balance shoes All the way in my peripheral vision Is about to be a whole No leg havin ass nigga Like that nigga I saw on the train the other day I thought about your story Ark/Arc All the stories I didn't want, like Noah's Throw stones from glass houses. Gas prices go up; Every time I see some shit I wanna throw up Stomach in knots lately, Been three years since I seen my own blood No knots berry farm I roam the streets very armed I got scary arms, Call em Michelle Obama; Am I wrong or am I wrong; I love the fuck out to New York, but I don't belong here, I just came to write a song here Got stuck here It's been two years since I had a Man, or a beer I'm black and I'm Queer, Screamed “fuck Fallon”, Then he just— showed up here. Center stage Now I entered a new dawn, Turn the suffering on a bit And turn the fucking lights off I'm high as a kite, A bird and a plane In plain language, I'm a mega famous alien Okay then Sure Sim, it is simple A wrinkle in time, Your first wrinkle I popped pimples, I'm still sure my high chair Is right there I got one foot in the grave, I'm inside Bearr I died there Serious Take the camera and check the images Remember this! I said sit your bitch ass down Before you get slapped by The secret president As a death wish For fuckin real Everybody on the godddamn plane Is about to get bitch Slapped. BITCH SLAPPED. What the fuck is wrong with people. I swear all the way to God these toddler brain motherfuckers Is driving me crazy. I'd rather hang out With actual CHILDREN. At least it makes sense for them to be retarded. Ya'll ain't got no business being this fuckin whacked. Criminal mischief, Interesting, isn't it? Dismissive, In fact, gone fishing. Doors open, open I'm on the road again, road again Hands wrapped around my throat again I'm sure to explode again Who wrote this? Take a ballpoint paper and pen to your notebooks, And you're so shook, you bought Two whole tickets to San Cristobal In the same thought I'm a good boss; I'm a bad kid, I'm a great guy —with some bad habits I'm a fat blonde In a bad mood And that's big facts This dumb motherfucker behind me is about to get slapped— SLAPPED. I didn't mean to hit him that hard, broh I didn't mean to really hit him at all though! It's infinite, this bitch just gets under my skin Like it's Siphilis, it's middles and pistols Niggas and bitches Nothing you would ever see On regular television. I took an elevator to heaven I haven't been back since, I don't remember at all what I left Under or back there In the black lands It's bad earth. Tomorrow, tomorrow Today Tomorrow, tomorrow. 59;/$ l Tomorrow— —tomorrow— Today Tomorrow, Tomorrow How much power can one man have (Apparently a lot. ) What could this mean, If nothing at all? I just wanna get loaded And run off and rave I just want a family, A horse, And a grave marker No, don't bury me I just wanted a family. I just want to write a good story, Now I'm stuck in world history All the well knowing Now I know I gotta die Before everyone I ever loved Or even kinda sorta liked — as a fan, you know? “This man will destroy you.” That is literally what the faraway shady ass voice said about Jimmy Fallon. So whyz why god. Is this dude — Not even all of a sudden It's you. It's you. Like fucking everywhere. It's YOU. Gazuntite. I move about silently, Emergency calls only Nobody needs to know me Or where in the fuck I'm going I'm showing you my dark sides And none the wiser The only Devil I got my eye on Is a liar. So what if God then? It'll leave this case open The gate opened up, And I rolled in Smoldering Sometimes I forget I'm the whole world Just long enough To be annoyed By everything in it But especially myself, and increasingly WHY THOUGH. So suicidal, I got blood in my eyes Love in my mind, I wish. Cause with men Love isn't blind Rolling the size And the eyes in the back of my head I heard I'm a genius I'm also retarded Cause I still like penis After all these dicks The vision was just Fallon in back of a Patty Wagon How fitting, Hands fisted and cuffed In front, instead of the back of him The Gillian in fact, was Saint Patrick It's same difference Insane niggas, It's getting ignorant And at this point It's unicorns Something going on, Don't know what it is Feels like something wrong Bitch. How the fuck you walk in a whole ass place. I don't know. The whole ass fucking place Right, I don't know! And the only thing you touch— I—- Has Jimmy Fallon's name on it. I don't— Scary huh, Unfair really, I'm scared, really so Seriously don't look at me funny If it gets weirder and deeper When I never really asked for this And I don't really know what happened I think Fallon did it. —but on what account? [The Festival Project.™] The Complex Collective © COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

Appreciation?In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             “Children must face the scrutiny of their parents”   The Dining Hall was almost a relief. That relief died the moment I saw the banner over the front of the serving area in the Hall. 'Zane Appreciation Day'. Since every word was spelled correctly, it wasn't some stunt of Rio's, but beyond that, the list of suspects was too large to consider. This could be a genuine outpouring of acceptance and sympathy for what I had endured here. If you believe that, I have to ask you: 'Do you want your leprechaun pissing Guinness or Irish Malt?' Most likely, this was going to be some sort of humiliation, and I think I knew the flavor, and I definitely knew how to find out. See, in every seat of the Dining Hall was a big, bowling ball sized white box with a name and secured with a gold and green ribbon, so no cheating; no peeking. That last bit didn't deter me, though. I snuck up on the box marked for Holiday Carpenter. "Zane, does that have your name on it?" Virginia Goodswell asked me, my English teacher and Spiritual Advisor. Hell, if it had been Mrs. Marlowe, I would have opened it anyway, but Virginia was my buddy so her next question didn't mean to stab a stake of regret through my heart. "Where is Vivian?" "I left my room before she was done." I looked to the ground while I kicked some imaginary dust off the slate floor. "Why don't you see if she's been calling you?" she suggested. "She's probably worried." Worried, or homicidal because, ya know, I had sort of run off without my phone, wallet, watch, book bag, or anything else a 21st century student might need. "I ran away like a big, fat chicken," I confessed. "Anything not glued to my body I left behind." "I'll give her a call." She pulled out her phone and hit speed dial #2. I crap since her sick mother is probably #1. I am such a big problem for her, she has my guardian on speed dial! "That is Holiday Carpenter's box, Zane, not yours. Besides, there are strict instructions to not open the boxes until instructed." The panicky response I overheard from Virginia's conversation with Vivian hardly helped my mood. She wanted to know if Virginia knew where I was, she did; that I was okay, I was; and finally, what upset me, because the other girls weren't talking but apparently Mercy had started slapping Barbie Lynn around until Rio and Val pulled her off. Now, that made less than no sense. Wasn't that supposed to work the other way around? Virginia did a double check and sure enough, Mercy had slammed Barbie Lynn into an open wardrobe on my behalf, and Rio and Val had pulled her back. WTF! I am sure that Rio was right beside me on that one. Vivian triple checked that I was physically and mentally okay and she sounded so disappointed, in herself, as she did so. She was bringing my stuff; yes, I am an earthworm. Virginia promised for me that I would remain here until she arrived. Some stupid gesture like a loud public apology, done on bended knee, was blatantly unfair to Vivian, who only meant the best for me. I made a quick apology, not trying to meet her eyes as I said the words and took my stuff. All of 'my' girls seemed equally subdued. A minute after we had garnered our victuals, Vivian put a hand on my elbow. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Zane," Vivian smiled warmly at me. "You take a lot of stress and pressure on yourself. I understand that from time to time you need to take in a tiny bit of private space for yourself. Clearly, you can't schedule any such time because nothing around you stays a secret for very long and no one respects your privacy or even asks what you need." "Vivian," I was puzzled, "you deserve to be righteously pissed with me. You are my Guardian and I promised to stay by you or at least tell you where I was." "Zane, we let you down," Vivian assured me. "It is your dorm room and we are your guests, and we have been rather poor guests at that." "How about we call a truce?" I offer. "I can live with that," Vivian smiled. "Cut the Kumbaya-time, kids," Rio snorted derisively. "Zane, what the fuck happened with Mercy?" Rio playfully punched Mercy's arm to emphasize her uncertainty. "Rio, Bro, drop it," I asked sincerely. "Act like it didn't happen." Rio studied me a second, then got this wickedly evil grin. "What the hell are you talking about, Glenda?" she hefted the box up then shook it. "It seems my damn box is glued shut. Are we celebrating one thousand cunts licked by you, or what?" Because Rio rarely expounded at a level below full volume, next thing we hear is Mrs. Marlow snapping, "Ms. Talon, watch your language; there are good Christian women being forced to sit within the sound of your voice!" "Gotcha, Ms. Mouthful," Rio snapped off with a snap and a finger raised up like a pistol in the air. "What did you say?" Marlowe closed the distance. "She was repeating what I pointed out," I turned and smiled. "I said that you really had it going together this morning; that you were more than a mouthful. That's a hip/trending term to describe someone who is expressing themselves through clothing and make-up." "You are lying, Mr. Braxton," she snarled. "You are probably right, as I do so to you on general principle, but good luck proving it in student court," I grinned right back. We locked wills and she blinked first. "Ms. Phillips," Marlowe turned on Vivian, "what are you going to do about this?" "Zane and Rio, would you please apologize for being rude and insensitive to an educator who only wishes the best for the student body?" Vivian requested. "I so apologize," I bowed my head. "I so apologize as well," Rio tacked on. Only after Marlowe had gone to spread love and sunshine somewhere else did Rio lean across me and whisper to Vivian. "You rock!" Rio giggled gleefully. After all, Rio and I had not apologized to Mrs. Marlowe because neither one of us believed for a minute that she was 'an educator who only wishes the best for the student body'. To that nameless entity, we owed a debt, and to Mrs. Marlow we owed a generous 'fuck you,' and Vivian had made it all possible. "Why, thank you, Rio," Vivian nodded her acceptance of Rio's praise. "Jesus is the Peacemaker and we all should attempt to emulate his teachings." "So, I still don't get to lick you senseless?" Rio snickered. "No, no, you don't," Vivian smiled, even though she didn't look at either of us. Vivian's going to rock as a mom. The next half hour passed quietly. Everyone was curious about the boxes but no one was too worried until a rumor suddenly appeared. When it was suggested that they might have to put on bikinis, the fear set in. I blamed, I don't know but I wish I had thought of it. I was still kicking myself for the missed opportunity when my alien with the right face black and left face white shows up with the right face white and left face black, Mhain and Millicent. "Death Match and you get to referee," Rio teased me. "I'm so jealous; 500 bucks on the one with the soul." Mhain glared hate at us while Millicent looked more than amused. "Zane, come with us," Mhain gloated. I figured that somehow my ordeal was coming to an end so I'd play along. I rose and they steered me to the largest exit, flanking me. Christina and Company grabbed their boxes and jumped up quickly to follow me, though they looked as confused as I was, confirming none of them were the architect of my discomfort. No sooner had we stepped into the cool, sunlit lawn than everyone's phone rang, except mine. I was loving this, right up there with having sandpaper buffing my sunburned abs. "Open the box and follow the instructions," Christina informed me. "Is anyone going to do this?" My phone vibrated once, then my whole body tingled before I could respond to the call. "I am," Mhain gloated. "I was promised something." She knelt and opened her box with enthusiasm; the others did likewise but at a more sedate pace. What came out of each box was almost identical, different only in the anatomical part of the body indicated by the instructions. The objects were all grapefruit-sized fur-balls that made darling little squeaks, squeals and murmurs, amongst other sympathetic noises, all in tiny little voices. They were to be placed on my body, but I didn't know how that would work. "Are we going to do this?" Chastity began to say. "It isn't sticky," Hope was also saying when Mhain's flew out of her hand and hit the side of my left knee. She reached out carefully to retrieve hers while the other girls circled in. The little darlings were proving to be resilient little bastards. Several more leapt at me from the hands of their owners. All this time the furry grapefruit were giving little 'wee!' noises when they shot at me and screeched like demons when they were removed, which was painful when they were on my flesh. I knew who was responsible and she was going to pay, but not right now. I saw my closest allies pulling back. "TLM, Christina," I sighed in resignation. "Let's get this over with." I was being totally self-sacrificial; girls were starting to pile-up on us coming out of the Dining Hall. I didn't want a riot. Mhain had technically tagged me first but not in the designated spot, so I had Christina go first, she put one over my heart, not that I thought Cordelia was stupid, but now she was just piling it on. Mhain went next and she was sizzling and excited, she put it on my lips, shutting me up. At least the girls were polite and organized enough to come at me patiently. A few didn't get the 'memo' and their little rug rats slipped out of their owner's grasp and got to play gleeful kamikaze as they plowed into me. It didn't hurt but I had this secret fear that the tiny terrors would sprout fangs and tear into me. These little guys were murmuring and mumbling and it wasn't until I was truly buried that a horrific realization was made, the more that were on me, the greater their clinging power. In retrospect, this would have been more useful if we hadn't passed the 700 mark. I looked like a puffy, overweight, Sasquatch baby. I could move but sitting down was a dream, as was running or going to the bathroom. The damn things wouldn't shut up either. It fell to Hope and Iona to hurry me (as much as possible) to Assembly; you know that place where I 'sit' in front. At least no one could ask me anything

For the second time in recent happenings, the scar on the inside of my bottom lip began to swell and heat up strangely, as if it were activating in some sort of way or still healing—the scar itself was almost 8 years old, and in fact— would be 8 years old with the coming of springtime. It was a strange sensation, though not entirely traumatic— and while also fighting off some sort of infection, my body in entirety wasn't altogether well, but the mark to me stood out anyhow, as just the other day after leaving the craft store, the scar had lifted bizarrely, swelling as if some sort of creature under the surface of the skin had been moving around just enough as a reminder that it was there at all—now, something like a week later, it began to tingle and heat as if it were in the process of mending itself, and though when it had been healing, bits of skin and pieces of my bottom lip which had come loose after my bottom row of teeth had gone through nearly to the other side— not quite puncturing all the way through, but enough to indent the outside of my mouth with some bruising and swelling reminiscent to that of having once pierced my lip; in fact— the damage was so apparent that it had created a swollen enough tunnel on my upper lip, where my canines had created marks to make make it easy enough to re-insert new jewelry into the old piercing which had closed over time, and now had been halfway reopened by the blunt force of my teeth connecting with my ex's fist. In fact, I took it well enough that re-piercing the old upper lip didn't hurt at all, and almost made it seem meant to be. Then, in my mind—I was still fragile. Six or so week postpartum and still heavily lactating, with severe depression after having learned of the infidelities committed throughout the entire duration of the relationship had left me in a frenzied state— I worked almost around the clock after being hired at the local veterinary clinic, the doctor of which I had known since I was seven years old, and who had been happy to hire me, and after having already lost something like a hundred pounds, I took to the job considerably well, completing my daily tasks to focus my energy and the duration of my shifts to running the boarding dogs, often saving the larger breeds for last—the greyhounds and labs, the retrievers— so that I could run as fast and as hard with them as I could, and with each dog, a set of squats, windmills, and burpees and jumping jacks before running each pup through the obstacle coarse in the yard, never eating on my lunch breaks really, but only ever stopping to pump milk— so that especially when running, I wouldn't create a mess. I had always over-lactated, even for a short time supplying milk for other children, and in particular—my very best friend, whose choice to quickly resume drinking after her son's birth dissallowed her to continue breastfeeding, and either way, I had more than I needed, besides the occasional lot added as coffee creamer by one such who had discovered the magical and medicinal property of fresh breastmilk. I was, of course, considerably smaller than I had ever been, probably since the fourth grade when procuring such a scar— and it only seemed at least somewhat believable and fitting that, when asked about the heavy swelling and bruising on my face and lips, that I had been hurt so tragically working out on the pavement— having falling doing pushups, or burpees, or something—to which no one seemed to have reason to believe otherwise; I had, after all, taken my level of fitness to new heights, and, after having lived so much of my adult and adolescent life anywhere between 250-350 lbs, once peaking at something like 380 or even more without the actual knowledge of such (always being asked politely if I wanted to know during doctor's visits, and of course, declining) my chaotic and frenzied state after the realization that the entire fabric of my relationship had been a complete lie, made sense to the outside world—and though without the bravery to actually admit to what had happened, the Doctor, after scolding me for not completing my daily tasks, just the day after this scar had been created, seemed to have let me go, not because of the actual incompletion of my duties, but as a harsh reckoning with knowing that I had lied directly to her face about what exactly had happened to mine. The years homelessness that followed was due to the eviction received after having lost this job, and though with steady and careful recovery I was able to break free from my abuser, the lack of family support and financial stability combined with this legal eviction on record would see my struggle as a survivor of the physical and psychological violence which occurred over this, nearly a decade's time, seen by the outside world as an antagonist— a sick person, a derilict, a disgrace. It would take years for the truth to surface and as it had, the strangeness of things began to occur as not things in my mind, but things in the world, which were very real—and though while still in harsh denial of any such things besides other, ever having happened, it was this that remained, this scar—now strangely heated and almost swollen as if again I should be reminded that this scar did indeed mark a death of sorts, the life after which had all been some sort of strange dream; a walk through the afterlife, sometimes carried on the wings of angels or even driven by chariot of The Gods. — Death of a Superstar DJ. Lights fade, Fade to black; Sacred stones and crystals cross eyed, Just across I, Desire my mark; The finish and the start line are one in the same So as soon as I finish, I start. Part I Do not disclose your location. No address, I guess. Stressed and headed for some sort of war zone I'm sure, No entitlements and I pushback, Push to start —I swear if you keep scrolling, I'll take your eyes out. I been yellow taxi'd Two four door Ford explorers, Nevermind the o'luck eye, Cause I am all for it. Party to the people! I need water, I mean, power. You wanted the Stand Up Special. I wanted nothing of the sort. You could be funny. Suddenly I'm sitting in the middle seat, My eye on - Seriously, I might not ever come out in public again Again Again Again. What are you channeling? Apparently, Jimmy Falllon and Natalie. What in the fuck are you wearing!? (A blazer and a fish scale.) What in the fuck are you trying to say? I'm trying to— Thank you I fainted and woke up in LA . Dang. If you're going to cry, You might as well do it at 10,000 feet in the air— —she's tied to her phone, the ensemble has gone. Nobody wants her around anymore, Nobody wants a new phone, not really. Nobody needs a new friend, not Fallon. I picked up the one thing I liked In the whole place And your name was on it. Is this fame, or magic!? Is this God, or a bludgeoning? I forgot where my heart went, Steered toward the fountain, naturally So the water would calm me. If this obviously-from-denver New balance wearing motherfucker doesn't get His long ass leg from within inches of mine, I swear all the way to God And all the way to— Where is this? —wherever. I'm gonna reach behind me, And kill him. You know you've been in New York too long When you don't have not a lick of patience Or time for anyone's bullshit. you: Shut it down. Shut it down! A slap across the face is just as well— —Is just as well. And a swift kick in the ass is We're back to the Irish, The turn of the times, And his eyes are mine again. FUCK THIS,. Just listen to me, for once. I listen to you a lot, voice in my head disguised as Who is this The devil. I guess. Great. So were the devil. Could be. Listen to your gut. Not the greatest idea! I'm hungry. Look, don't you touch me with those greasy little— #spirit fingers. LINCHTIME *LYNCHTIME. Goddamn. That misspelling took a TURN. Let's just— ITS JANE LYNCH TIME! That's—yeah. Listen, I have something to tell you. Does it have anything to do with— Get in the box. Why, what's in the box Damn. I don't have a lick of deadmau5 with me. And why is that. I was [redacted] I don't know.. You — might be the devil. If— maybe. In my eyes (In my eyes) I swear all the way to fucking GOD This long ass nigga With his dirty ass new balance shoes All the way in my peripheral vision Is about to be a whole No leg havin ass nigga Like that nigga I saw on the train the other day I thought about your story Ark/Arc All the stories I didn't want, like Noah's Throw stones from glass houses. Gas prices go up; Every time I see some shit I wanna throw up Stomach in knots lately, Been three years since I seen my own blood No knots berry farm I roam the streets very armed I got scary arms, Call em Michelle Obama; Am I wrong or am I wrong; I love the fuck out to New York, but I don't belong here, I just came to write a song here Got stuck here It's been two years since I had a Man, or a beer I'm black and I'm Queer, Screamed “fuck Fallon”, Then he just— showed up here. Center stage Now I entered a new dawn, Turn the suffering on a bit And turn the fucking lights off I'm high as a kite, A bird and a plane In plain language, I'm a mega famous alien Okay then Sure Sim, it is simple A wrinkle in time, Your first wrinkle I popped pimples, I'm still sure my high chair Is right there I got one foot in the grave, I'm inside Bearr I died there Serious Take the camera and check the images Remember this! I said sit your bitch ass down Before you get slapped by The secret president As a death wish For fuckin real Everybody on the godddamn plane Is about to get bitch Slapped. BITCH SLAPPED. What the fuck is wrong with people. I swear all the way to God these toddler brain motherfuckers Is driving me crazy. I'd rather hang out With actual CHILDREN. At least it makes sense for them to be retarded. Ya'll ain't got no business being this fuckin whacked. Criminal mischief, Interesting, isn't it? Dismissive, In fact, gone fishing. Doors open, open I'm on the road again, road again Hands wrapped around my throat again I'm sure to explode again Who wrote this? Take a ballpoint paper and pen to your notebooks, And you're so shook, you bought Two whole tickets to San Cristobal In the same thought I'm a good boss; I'm a bad kid, I'm a great guy —with some bad habits I'm a fat blonde In a bad mood And that's big facts This dumb motherfucker behind me is about to get slapped— SLAPPED. I didn't mean to hit him that hard, broh I didn't mean to really hit him at all though! It's infinite, this bitch just gets under my skin Like it's Siphilis, it's middles and pistols Niggas and bitches Nothing you would ever see On regular television. I took an elevator to heaven I haven't been back since, I don't remember at all what I left Under or back there In the black lands It's bad earth. Tomorrow, tomorrow Today Tomorrow, tomorrow. 59;/$ l Tomorrow— —tomorrow— Today Tomorrow, Tomorrow How much power can one man have (Apparently a lot. ) What could this mean, If nothing at all? I just wanna get loaded And run off and rave I just want a family, A horse, And a grave marker No, don't bury me I just wanted a family. I just want to write a good story, Now I'm stuck in world history All the well knowing Now I know I gotta die Before everyone I ever loved Or even kinda sorta liked — as a fan, you know? “This man will destroy you.” That is literally what the faraway shady ass voice said about Jimmy Fallon. So whyz why god. Is this dude — Not even all of a sudden It's you. It's you. Like fucking everywhere. It's YOU. Gazuntite. I move about silently, Emergency calls only Nobody needs to know me Or where in the fuck I'm going I'm showing you my dark sides And none the wiser The only Devil I got my eye on Is a liar. So what if God then? It'll leave this case open The gate opened up, And I rolled in Smoldering Sometimes I forget I'm the whole world Just long enough To be annoyed By everything in it But especially myself, and increasingly WHY THOUGH. So suicidal, I got blood in my eyes Love in my mind, I wish. Cause with men Love isn't blind Rolling the size And the eyes in the back of my head I heard I'm a genius I'm also retarded Cause I still like penis After all these dicks The vision was just Fallon in back of a Patty Wagon How fitting, Hands fisted and cuffed In front, instead of the back of him The Gillian in fact, was Saint Patrick It's same difference Insane niggas, It's getting ignorant And at this point It's unicorns Something going on, Don't know what it is Feels like something wrong Bitch. How the fuck you walk in a whole ass place. I don't know. The whole ass fucking place Right, I don't know! And the only thing you touch— I—- Has Jimmy Fallon's name on it. I don't— Scary huh, Unfair really, I'm scared, really so Seriously don't look at me funny If it gets weirder and deeper When I never really asked for this And I don't really know what happened I think Fallon did it. —but on what account? [The Festival Project.™] The Complex Collective © COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

For the second time in recent happenings, the scar on the inside of my bottom lip began to swell and heat up strangely, as if it were activating in some sort of way or still healing—the scar itself was almost 8 years old, and in fact— would be 8 years old with the coming of springtime. It was a strange sensation, though not entirely traumatic— and while also fighting off some sort of infection, my body in entirety wasn't altogether well, but the mark to me stood out anyhow, as just the other day after leaving the craft store, the scar had lifted bizarrely, swelling as if some sort of creature under the surface of the skin had been moving around just enough as a reminder that it was there at all—now, something like a week later, it began to tingle and heat as if it were in the process of mending itself, and though when it had been healing, bits of skin and pieces of my bottom lip which had come loose after my bottom row of teeth had gone through nearly to the other side— not quite puncturing all the way through, but enough to indent the outside of my mouth with some bruising and swelling reminiscent to that of having once pierced my lip; in fact— the damage was so apparent that it had created a swollen enough tunnel on my upper lip, where my canines had created marks to make make it easy enough to re-insert new jewelry into the old piercing which had closed over time, and now had been halfway reopened by the blunt force of my teeth connecting with my ex's fist. In fact, I took it well enough that re-piercing the old upper lip didn't hurt at all, and almost made it seem meant to be. Then, in my mind—I was still fragile. Six or so week postpartum and still heavily lactating, with severe depression after having learned of the infidelities committed throughout the entire duration of the relationship had left me in a frenzied state— I worked almost around the clock after being hired at the local veterinary clinic, the doctor of which I had known since I was seven years old, and who had been happy to hire me, and after having already lost something like a hundred pounds, I took to the job considerably well, completing my daily tasks to focus my energy and the duration of my shifts to running the boarding dogs, often saving the larger breeds for last—the greyhounds and labs, the retrievers— so that I could run as fast and as hard with them as I could, and with each dog, a set of squats, windmills, and burpees and jumping jacks before running each pup through the obstacle coarse in the yard, never eating on my lunch breaks really, but only ever stopping to pump milk— so that especially when running, I wouldn't create a mess. I had always over-lactated, even for a short time supplying milk for other children, and in particular—my very best friend, whose choice to quickly resume drinking after her son's birth dissallowed her to continue breastfeeding, and either way, I had more than I needed, besides the occasional lot added as coffee creamer by one such who had discovered the magical and medicinal property of fresh breastmilk. I was, of course, considerably smaller than I had ever been, probably since the fourth grade when procuring such a scar— and it only seemed at least somewhat believable and fitting that, when asked about the heavy swelling and bruising on my face and lips, that I had been hurt so tragically working out on the pavement— having falling doing pushups, or burpees, or something—to which no one seemed to have reason to believe otherwise; I had, after all, taken my level of fitness to new heights, and, after having lived so much of my adult and adolescent life anywhere between 250-350 lbs, once peaking at something like 380 or even more without the actual knowledge of such (always being asked politely if I wanted to know during doctor's visits, and of course, declining) my chaotic and frenzied state after the realization that the entire fabric of my relationship had been a complete lie, made sense to the outside world—and though without the bravery to actually admit to what had happened, the Doctor, after scolding me for not completing my daily tasks, just the day after this scar had been created, seemed to have let me go, not because of the actual incompletion of my duties, but as a harsh reckoning with knowing that I had lied directly to her face about what exactly had happened to mine. The years homelessness that followed was due to the eviction received after having lost this job, and though with steady and careful recovery I was able to break free from my abuser, the lack of family support and financial stability combined with this legal eviction on record would see my struggle as a survivor of the physical and psychological violence which occurred over this, nearly a decade's time, seen by the outside world as an antagonist— a sick person, a derilict, a disgrace. It would take years for the truth to surface and as it had, the strangeness of things began to occur as not things in my mind, but things in the world, which were very real—and though while still in harsh denial of any such things besides other, ever having happened, it was this that remained, this scar—now strangely heated and almost swollen as if again I should be reminded that this scar did indeed mark a death of sorts, the life after which had all been some sort of strange dream; a walk through the afterlife, sometimes carried on the wings of angels or even driven by chariot of The Gods. — Death of a Superstar DJ. Lights fade, Fade to black; Sacred stones and crystals cross eyed, Just across I, Desire my mark; The finish and the start line are one in the same So as soon as I finish, I start. Part I Do not disclose your location. No address, I guess. Stressed and headed for some sort of war zone I'm sure, No entitlements and I pushback, Push to start —I swear if you keep scrolling, I'll take your eyes out. I been yellow taxi'd Two four door Ford explorers, Nevermind the o'luck eye, Cause I am all for it. Party to the people! I need water, I mean, power. You wanted the Stand Up Special. I wanted nothing of the sort. You could be funny. Suddenly I'm sitting in the middle seat, My eye on - Seriously, I might not ever come out in public again Again Again Again. What are you channeling? Apparently, Jimmy Falllon and Natalie. What in the fuck are you wearing!? (A blazer and a fish scale.) What in the fuck are you trying to say? I'm trying to— Thank you I fainted and woke up in LA . Dang. If you're going to cry, You might as well do it at 10,000 feet in the air— —she's tied to her phone, the ensemble has gone. Nobody wants her around anymore, Nobody wants a new phone, not really. Nobody needs a new friend, not Fallon. I picked up the one thing I liked In the whole place And your name was on it. Is this fame, or magic!? Is this God, or a bludgeoning? I forgot where my heart went, Steered toward the fountain, naturally So the water would calm me. If this obviously-from-denver New balance wearing motherfucker doesn't get His long ass leg from within inches of mine, I swear all the way to God And all the way to— Where is this? —wherever. I'm gonna reach behind me, And kill him. You know you've been in New York too long When you don't have not a lick of patience Or time for anyone's bullshit. you: Shut it down. Shut it down! A slap across the face is just as well— —Is just as well. And a swift kick in the ass is We're back to the Irish, The turn of the times, And his eyes are mine again. FUCK THIS,. Just listen to me, for once. I listen to you a lot, voice in my head disguised as Who is this The devil. I guess. Great. So were the devil. Could be. Listen to your gut. Not the greatest idea! I'm hungry. Look, don't you touch me with those greasy little— #spirit fingers. LINCHTIME *LYNCHTIME. Goddamn. That misspelling took a TURN. Let's just— ITS JANE LYNCH TIME! That's—yeah. Listen, I have something to tell you. Does it have anything to do with— Get in the box. Why, what's in the box Damn. I don't have a lick of deadmau5 with me. And why is that. I was [redacted] I don't know.. You — might be the devil. If— maybe. In my eyes (In my eyes) I swear all the way to fucking GOD This long ass nigga With his dirty ass new balance shoes All the way in my peripheral vision Is about to be a whole No leg havin ass nigga Like that nigga I saw on the train the other day I thought about your story Ark/Arc All the stories I didn't want, like Noah's Throw stones from glass houses. Gas prices go up; Every time I see some shit I wanna throw up Stomach in knots lately, Been three years since I seen my own blood No knots berry farm I roam the streets very armed I got scary arms, Call em Michelle Obama; Am I wrong or am I wrong; I love the fuck out to New York, but I don't belong here, I just came to write a song here Got stuck here It's been two years since I had a Man, or a beer I'm black and I'm Queer, Screamed “fuck Fallon”, Then he just— showed up here. Center stage Now I entered a new dawn, Turn the suffering on a bit And turn the fucking lights off I'm high as a kite, A bird and a plane In plain language, I'm a mega famous alien Okay then Sure Sim, it is simple A wrinkle in time, Your first wrinkle I popped pimples, I'm still sure my high chair Is right there I got one foot in the grave, I'm inside Bearr I died there Serious Take the camera and check the images Remember this! I said sit your bitch ass down Before you get slapped by The secret president As a death wish For fuckin real Everybody on the godddamn plane Is about to get bitch Slapped. BITCH SLAPPED. What the fuck is wrong with people. I swear all the way to God these toddler brain motherfuckers Is driving me crazy. I'd rather hang out With actual CHILDREN. At least it makes sense for them to be retarded. Ya'll ain't got no business being this fuckin whacked. Criminal mischief, Interesting, isn't it? Dismissive, In fact, gone fishing. Doors open, open I'm on the road again, road again Hands wrapped around my throat again I'm sure to explode again Who wrote this? Take a ballpoint paper and pen to your notebooks, And you're so shook, you bought Two whole tickets to San Cristobal In the same thought I'm a good boss; I'm a bad kid, I'm a great guy —with some bad habits I'm a fat blonde In a bad mood And that's big facts This dumb motherfucker behind me is about to get slapped— SLAPPED. I didn't mean to hit him that hard, broh I didn't mean to really hit him at all though! It's infinite, this bitch just gets under my skin Like it's Siphilis, it's middles and pistols Niggas and bitches Nothing you would ever see On regular television. I took an elevator to heaven I haven't been back since, I don't remember at all what I left Under or back there In the black lands It's bad earth. Tomorrow, tomorrow Today Tomorrow, tomorrow. 59;/$ l Tomorrow— —tomorrow— Today Tomorrow, Tomorrow How much power can one man have (Apparently a lot. ) What could this mean, If nothing at all? I just wanna get loaded And run off and rave I just want a family, A horse, And a grave marker No, don't bury me I just wanted a family. I just want to write a good story, Now I'm stuck in world history All the well knowing Now I know I gotta die Before everyone I ever loved Or even kinda sorta liked — as a fan, you know? “This man will destroy you.” That is literally what the faraway shady ass voice said about Jimmy Fallon. So whyz why god. Is this dude — Not even all of a sudden It's you. It's you. Like fucking everywhere. It's YOU. Gazuntite. I move about silently, Emergency calls only Nobody needs to know me Or where in the fuck I'm going I'm showing you my dark sides And none the wiser The only Devil I got my eye on Is a liar. So what if God then? It'll leave this case open The gate opened up, And I rolled in Smoldering Sometimes I forget I'm the whole world Just long enough To be annoyed By everything in it But especially myself, and increasingly WHY THOUGH. So suicidal, I got blood in my eyes Love in my mind, I wish. Cause with men Love isn't blind Rolling the size And the eyes in the back of my head I heard I'm a genius I'm also retarded Cause I still like penis After all these dicks The vision was just Fallon in back of a Patty Wagon How fitting, Hands fisted and cuffed In front, instead of the back of him The Gillian in fact, was Saint Patrick It's same difference Insane niggas, It's getting ignorant And at this point It's unicorns Something going on, Don't know what it is Feels like something wrong Bitch. How the fuck you walk in a whole ass place. I don't know. The whole ass fucking place Right, I don't know! And the only thing you touch— I—- Has Jimmy Fallon's name on it. I don't— Scary huh, Unfair really, I'm scared, really so Seriously don't look at me funny If it gets weirder and deeper When I never really asked for this And I don't really know what happened I think Fallon did it. —but on what account? [The Festival Project.™] The Complex Collective © COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

Everyone needs to eat! Restaurants are the norm but do you have the proper edict? Denver and Teresa are joined with their friend Alex to discuss the Horrors of Restaurants in the weeks episode of ThreadTalk! Bonus episodes on Patreon! 4 per month: https://www.patreon.com/threadtalkpodcast You can also connect with ThreadTalk on Instagram, TikTok and YouTube! YouTube members get early access to the next episode! Join this channel to get access to perks: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCHtSccsmwYzc5FkvitHC4tg/join Our submit your own stories for future episodes!!!: https://www.reddit.com/r/ThreadTalkPodcast/ 0:00 Intro 4:34 Screamed at for saving someone's life  10:19 AITA for taking my clothes off at the Cheesecake Factory?  24:29 AITA for making my daughter choose a different restaurant for her birthday meal than the one she really wanted?  35:44 AITA for kicking a server out of my wedding? 44:31 My mom thought she could train me to like cilantro  55:41 AITA for getting a restaurant worker fired? 1:14:54 Yelp reviews  1:27:04 AITA for telling our server she had a beautiful scalp at my wife's birthday dinner? 1:38:11 The chef at my workplace insists it's no big deal and that he's just saving money.  1:42:56 Sat a table 8 minutes to close, but I get the last laugh. 1:56:07 ask reddit: crazy mind fucks     1:59:47 Outro  Denver:  https://www.reddit.com/r/TalesFromYourServer/comments/a3j1z3/screamed_at_for_saving_someones_life/  https://www.reddit.com/r/TalesFromYourServer/comments/1ew9p3a/this_is_disgusting_yes_the_chef_at_my_workplace/  https://www.reddit.com/r/AmItheAsshole/comments/1b8tpch/aita_for_making_my_daughter_choose_a_different/  https://www.reddit.com/r/traumatizeThemBack/comments/1ewrrij/my_mom_thought_she_could_train_me_to_like/   Yelp reviews https://www.reddit.com/r/YelpDrama/comments/1bvcovm/you_threw_up_into_the_ice_cream/  https://www.reddit.com/r/OhNoConsequences/comments/1by88l3/veganvegetarian_restaurant_closes_permanently/  https://www.reddit.com/r/OhNoConsequences/comments/1bdu7sb/doubleconsequences_in_first_and_last_paragraphs/  Teresa: https://www.reddit.com/r/ThreadTalkPodcast/comments/1eyzwwj/aita_for_taking_my_clothes_off_at_the_cheesecake/ https://www.reddit.com/r/AITAH/comments/14jiec7/aita_for_getting_a_restaurant_worker_fired/ https://www.reddit.com/r/AmItheAsshole/comments/xpw4ts/aita_for_kicking_a_server_out_of_my_wedding/ https://www.reddit.com/r/TalesFromYourServer/comments/1ed86ei/sat_a_table_8_minutes_to_close_but_i_get_the_last/ https://www.reddit.com/r/AmItheAsshole/comments/k06zdp/aita_for_telling_our_server_she_had_a_beautiful/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Today on the podcast, Josh and Drusilla discuss one of their very favorite European lesbian vampire films, Daughters of Darkness. From wiki: “Daughters of Darkness[b] is a 1971 erotic horror film co-written and directed by Harry Kümel and starring Delphine Seyrig, John Karlen, Andrea Rau, and Danielle Ouimet.” Also discussed: Laserdiscs, VCRs, Alice Sweet Alice, Psycho II, Scream, franchises, It's Alive, Karen Black, The House that Screamed, Delphine Seyrig, Klaus Kinski, Jean Rollins, Dark Shadows, haint blue, queer villains, gigolos, and more!NEXT WEEK: Vacation of Terror and Vacation of Terror II    Follow them across the internet:Bloodhaus:https://www.bloodhauspod.com/https://twitter.com/BloodhausPodhttps://www.instagram.com/bloodhauspod/ Drusilla Adeline:https://www.sisterhydedesign.com/https://letterboxd.com/sisterhyde/ Joshua Conkelhttps://www.joshuaconkel.com/https://www.instagram.com/joshua_conkel/https://letterboxd.com/JoshuaConkel/

This week we visit a school for wayward girls with the polarizing The House That Screamed. Andy gives his Alien: Romulus review. Finally, Amy and Freddy talk Hauntedween. You take the good, you take the bad...the facts of life, y'all.  Support us on Patreon! Patrons have access to the NOTLP Discord Server, weekly virtual meetups with the hosts, ad free episodes and tons of other great content. This podcast is brought to you by the Legion of Demons at patreon.com/notlp. Our Beelzebub tier producers are: Ernest Perez Jeremy, Cassie & Gamora Burmeister Jeff L Iona Goodwin Branan & Emily Intravia-Whitehead Bill Chandler Blayne Turner Monica Martinson Bill Fahrner Brian Krause Dave Siebert Joe Juvland Matt Funke “Monster Movies (with My Friends)” was written and performed by Kelley Kombrinck. It was recorded and mixed by Freddy Morris. Night of the Living Podcast Social Media:      facebook.com/notlp twitter.com/notlp instagram.com/nightofthelivingpodcast youtube.com/notlpcrew https://www.tiktok.com/@nightofthelivingpodcast

Warren and Sanders call for an antitrust investigation into Venu Sports,  New York's flood warning drones screamed at residents in 'incomprehensible' Spanish, and People are returning Humane AI Pins faster than the company can sell them. It's Thursday, August 8th and this is Engadget News. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

In this episode of our Lilli Palmer Acteur-ist Oeuvre-view series, we watched a couple of 1969 movies somewhere on the horror spectrum: De Sade, a movie of ideas that doesn't live up to them, written by famed horror/sci fi author Richard Matheson; and The House That Screamed, an Italian slasher with a twist or two to recommend it. Good parts for Lilli Palmer in a couple of seriously silly movies. And in our Fear and Moviegoing in Toronto segment, Fast Times at Ridgemont High leads Elise to go on a weird despairing rant about teenagers and sex (if she does say so herself). Come for the irresponsible opinions, stay for the bumper butt orgies.  Time Codes: 0h 00m 30s:      DE SADE (1969) [dir. Cy Endfield] 0h 26m 13s:      THE HOUSE THAT SCREAMED (1969) [dir. Narciso Ibanez Serrador 0h 42m 03s:      Fear and Moviegoing in Toronto – Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982) by Amy Heckerling   +++ * Listen to our guest episode on The Criterion Project – a discussion of Late Spring * Marvel at our meticulously ridiculous Complete Viewing Schedule for the 2020s * Intro Song: “Sunday” by Jean Goldkette Orchestra with the Keller Sisters (courtesy of The Internet Archive) * Read Elise's piece on Gangs of New York – “Making America Strange Again” * Check out Dave's Robert Benchley blog – an attempt to annotate and reflect upon as many of the master humorist's 2000+ pieces as he can locate – Benchley Data: A Wayward Annotation Project!  Follow us on Twitter at @therebuggy Write to us at therebuggy@gmail.com We now have a Discord server - just drop us a line if you'd like to join! 

I'm gonna keep this short and sweet my dear friends, this week I have some of the most exciting news I've ever had to share! And that's saying a lot haha. This is something I've been dreaming up in my head for a longggggg time. I got the intuitive hit that it would happen this year, but it's still SO surreal that this dream will be coming true! Signed, sealed, delivered it's mine!

Osher's conversation with Nazeem Hussain got him thinking about how responding to aggression with kindness can drastically change the outcome of an interaction. But how can we assert ourselves, communicate our boundaries and still show grace and understanding in the face of rage? Let Osher know your thoughts, leave a voice mail or use the contact form, and get on the mailing list at oshergunsberg.com Find OG on Instagram here Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Comedian Danny Walsh chats to Kyle about 'So What Now' starring Lee Evans

This week, Drusilla and Josh discuss the incredible Franco-era Spanish film, The House That Screamed aka La residencia. From wiki: “The House That Screamed (Spanish: La residencia, lit. The Residence), also released as The Finishing School,[5] is a 1969 Spanish slasher film written and directed by Narciso Ibáñez Serrador, and starring Lilli Palmer, Cristina Galbó, John Moulder-Brown, and Mary Maude. It follows Señora Fourneau, the strict headmistress of a nineteenth-century French boarding school for girls where the students begin to disappear under unusual circumstances.[7][8]”But also Long Beach Pride, Josh doesn't like Sorcerer, The Wages of Fear, Bride of Chucky, Reform School Girls, Mädchen in Uniform, Day of the Beast, Tales to Keep You Awake, Massacre at Central High, Pieces, May, Porky's, and more! NEXT WEEK: Oculus (2013)Follow them across the internet:Bloodhaus: https://www.bloodhauspod.com/https://twitter.com/BloodhausPodhttps://www.instagram.com/bloodhauspod/Drusilla Adeline:https://www.sisterhydedesign.com/https://letterboxd.com/sisterhyde/Joshua Conkel https://www.joshuaconkel.com/https://www.instagram.com/joshua_conkel/https://letterboxd.com/JoshuaConkel/ 

Happy Memorial Day! This week the hosts Joshua Conkel and Drusilla Adeline are joined by filmmaker and host of Specter Cinema Club,  DeVaughn Taylor! They discuss the Darren Aronofsky joint, Mother! (2017). They also discuss all things Mad Max, Memorial Day, ranking John Waters films, Peter Greenaway's The Falls, This is Me Now, Fade to Black (1980), and more! From wiki: “Mother! (stylized as mother!) is a 2017 American fantasy drama[1] film written and directed by Darren Aronofsky, and starring Jennifer Lawrence, Javier Bardem, Ed Harris, Michelle Pfeiffer, Domhnall Gleeson, Brian Gleeson, and Kristen Wiig. Its plot, inspired by the Bible, follows a young woman whose tranquil life with her husband at their country home is disrupted by the arrival of a mysterious couple.”NEXT WEEK: The House that Screamed  (1969)Follow them across the internet:Bloodhaus:https://www.bloodhauspod.com/https://twitter.com/BloodhausPodhttps://www.instagram.com/bloodhauspod/DeVaughn Taylorhttps://x.com/_daddydiscohttps://x.com/spectercinemaDrusilla Adeline: https://www.sisterhydedesign.com/https://letterboxd.com/sisterhyde/ Joshua Conkelhttps://www.joshuaconkel.com/https://www.instagram.com/joshua_conkel/https://letterboxd.com/JoshuaConkel/ 

Phil Prendergast, passenger who was on the flight and Kevin Byrne, former Air Corps Lieutenant Colonel

Performed by Tracy & and Andrew Rivas

Bryony Blake is back and a lot has been happening!This week we're talking:Bryony's enlightening experience as a bio-dynamic farmerNicola's screaming noseChild and puppy mayhemNicola's fashion fail (thanks a lot Rishi Sunak)And of course we have loads of beauty recommendations and Bryony will be answering lots of your makeup dilemmas.Enjoy xx

Democrat protesters call Biden a 'war criminal' as they swarm Radio City music hall at $25million fundraiser with Obama, Clinton, Lizzo and Stephen Colbert, Trump attends wake of slain NYPD cop Jonathan Diller, Congresswoman Nancy Mace joins the show. Patriot Mobile: Go to https://www.PatriotMobile.com/Benny and get FREE Activation Blackout Coffee: http://www.blackoutcoffee.com/benny and use coupon code BENNY for 20% OFF your first order Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

If you go camping in these woods, be sure to wear ear protection. Because the noises you'll hear are anything but subtle... Send in an outdoor story for narration http://eeriecast.com/outdoor "Alone in the Ozarks" - 01:35 "My Great Grandfather Took Her Skin" - 22:58 "Mendocino Monster" - 32:10 "The Time My Friends and I Fought a Wendigo" - 42:33 "Fleshgait/Skinwalker encounter in Western CO" - 55:38 Listen to more horror stories narrations http://eeriecast.com/ Follow NaturesTemper on Twitter: https://twitter.com/NaturesTemper And YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/NaturesTemper Sound effects from POND5 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Which A-List Actor Screamed At Rebecca Ferguson On Set? Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Which A-List Actor Screamed At Rebecca Ferguson On Set? Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Why do haters gotta hate? Was Lucio Fulci full of crap? Who would you bribe to slap a TV-MA label on a PG parody? Find out this week as we discuss the Mexican and Native American roots of True Detective: Night Country, Hammer fanfic and "action" in Wrath of Dracula (United Kingdom, 2023) and influential classic horror in The House that Screamed (Spain, 1969). Plus - we get some help from Elvira: Mistress of the Dark, learn why you shouldn't adopt a ghost and/or vampire and get distracted by Elmo's preemo slasher villian potential. "How Mexico City influenced the icy Alaska mystery of ‘True Detective: Night Country'" by Bernice Vautista for the Associated Press "True Detective: Night Country's indigenous representation offers hope for decolonising television," by Agata Lulkowska for the Conversation

On the show, we celebrate The Grammy's with wins for Kylie and Miley Cyrus who both feature. Also, Rishi stoops to a new low; Debbie's embarrassing medical emergency; when Neil missed out on meeting Lady GaGa; and another fab moment with Amanda Holden & Alan Carr. Remember you can hear a full version of this show featuring music tracks at mixcould.com/thisisndebz Catch up with the latest via @ThisisNDebz on X (Twitter). If you'd like to get in touch with the show you can email us via thisisNDebz@gmail.com.

A new Professor Challenger Story! When Mr. Peerless Jones, artesian borer, is contact by the great but eccentric Professor Challenger with an urgent request, his curiosity and the endorsement of his friend Malone who had previous dealings with Challenger convinces him to meet with the Professor. Challenger's plan is as absurd as it is potentially Earth-shattering... Will Jones experience the sound of WHEN THE WORLD SCREAMED? Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Michelle Obama PANICS because she KNOWS THE TRUTH! Biden SCREAMED at in Black Church!

BEST OF HMS PODCASTS - FRIDAY - November 24, 2023 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

BEST OF HMS PODCASTS - FRIDAY - November 24, 2023 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

FOX immediately screamed "terrorism" over a fiery car accident. An assassination attempt in the US of Sikh separatist leader Gurpatwant Singh Pannun -- potentially by the Indian government -- was thwarted. The disingenuous pile of rat spew known as Putin blathered he was ready to end the war in Ukraine. Trump demanded the RNC stop hosting presidential primary debates. A green mamba snake is on the loose in the Netherlands. Meanwhile, the Dutch elected a coalition of crazies to lead. Daryl Hall of Hall And Oates is suing and has an order of protection out against John Oates, also of Hall And Oates. A MAGAT at a rally in Miami proclaimed Mike Lindell is really JFK Jr.

Super secret bonus projects, limited VHS releases, what we love about Art the Clown, French boarding schools and The House That Screamed!

4pm - GUEST: CONGRESSMAN TOM DENT // Some 70,000 child care providers may close as federal aid ends, report finds. What that means for parents // GUEST: MIKE ASAI - Mike is the black business owner who screamed at Kshama Sawant for voting against the drug bill and using the black community for her agendas without actually helping that community // Planning on traveling for Thanksgiving or Christmas?  Book by October 14th

4pm - GUEST: CONGRESSMAN TOM DENT // Some 70,000 child care providers may close as federal aid ends, report finds. What that means for parents // GUEST: MIKE ASAI - Mike is the black business owner who screamed at Kshama Sawant for voting against the drug bill and using the black community for her agendas without actually helping that community // Planning on traveling for Thanksgiving or Christmas?  Book by October 14thSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

We first fell in love with Ari Notartomaso when we saw the viral video of them singing "Climbing Uphill" from The Last Five Years. So when we saw they were starring in the new Paramount+ show Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies, we SCREAMED at our booker Mimi, "Book them yesterday!" And what a delight it was to talk to Ari! We get into Pennsylvania repression, gender crises, the connection between musicals and emotional openness, and so much MORE! PLUS, obvi, we answer YOUR advice questions! If you'd like to ask your own advice questions, call 323-524-7839 and leave a VM or just DM us on IG or Twitter!Support the show on Patreon (two extra exclusive episodes a month!) or with a t-shirt (or a Jewboo shirt) and check out clips on YouTube! And why not leave a 5-star review along with the worst person you ever dated on Apple Podcasts? (Every once in a while we'll do a Twitch show, if you want to also follow us there). Plus! Check out Andy's old casiopop band's lost album! And discounted Couples Therapy Quarantine Crew t-shirts here (if you don't get one, we're gonna have A LOT of nightshirts over at the ol' Beckperigin household!)! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Megyn Kelly is joined by Jesse Kelly, host of “The Jesse Kelly Show” and “I'm Right" on TheFirst, to talk about Disney trying to turn American's youth into social justice warriors, the latest on the Chinese spy balloon, Hunter Biden attempting to take legal action against computer repair shop owner, what led Don Lemon to allegedly scream at co-host Kaitlan Collins behind the scenes at “CNN This Morning," and much more. Then, attorneys Vinnie Politan and Steve Gosney join for a must-listen debate on the Alex Murdaugh trial. Plus, Amy Hamm, a nurse educator based in Canada, joins to discuss how she may be losing her nursing license for believing that biological sex is real, how gender ideology is impacting the safety and rights of children, and more.Follow The Megyn Kelly Show on all social platforms: YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/MegynKellyTwitter: http://Twitter.com/MegynKellyShowInstagram: http://Instagram.com/MegynKellyShowFacebook: http://Facebook.com/MegynKellyShow Find out more information at: https://www.devilmaycaremedia.com/megynkellyshow