Podcasts about Shit

This episode is for the moms who've ever thought, “It's just easier if I do it myself.” We're unpacking the resentment, the martyrdom, and the tension between trusting others and wanting to scream when your baby didn't nap, the bottle was left out, or bedtime went off the rails. We talk about the mental load it takes just to leave the house — the prepping, the guilt, the micromanaging — and why it's so hard to let go, even when we truly want the break. From weeknight date nights (and why 5:30pm is the sweet spot) to learning how to ask and accept help without shame, this one is all about redefining what support actually looks like — and letting it in.We're also sharing the systems and organization tricks that keep our households running smoothly — including the whiteboard we use to keep everyone aligned, communicate clearly, and avoid the last-minute chaos.You can purchase it here: https://mtmwhiteboard.myshopify.com/products/whiteboard Sollis Health is now introducing their Sollis Family membership, the only medical membership that's on demand for your family 24/7, 365. Get $1000 off your Sollis Family membership (priced at $10,000) with code MTM at Sollishealth.comInstagram: @wearemorethanmomsPatreon: More Than Moms Guides & Resources Join our IRL LA communitySubscribe to our NewsletterProduced by Peoples Media Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Half the country is stressed at the grocery store wondering if they can afford what's in their cart. But babe, this isn't just inflation. It's not just the economy. You're stuck in the same broke-ass energy loop, manifesting scraps instead of the feast you came here for. And I'm here to tell you, with love, it's not bad luck. It's not your ex. It's you.This isn't a shame session. This is a wake-up call. You're comparing yourself to strangers online, obsessing over what's not working, rewatching the Netflix series of your past, and calling it manifestation. You're leaving old portals wide open, keeping your nervous system in survival mode, manifesting with an outdated identity, and worst of all, doing it all alone.I'm breaking it all down for you, no sugarcoating, no fluff. I'll give you the exact tools to interrupt the loops, regulate your nervous system, step into the new identity that actually gets you paid, and plug you into the community that will mirror your abundance back to you until it's your default setting. Your broke era is over. Let's go.What You'll Hear in This Episode:The five habits keeping you broke and stuck in the wrong manifestationsHow to interrupt negative loops and instantly shift your frequencyThe ritual to close old portals so abundance can actually find youWhy your nervous system thinks your dreams are dangerousHow your old identity is blocking your wealthThe #1 reason manifestation isn't working for you (and how to fix it)____________________________________________✨ SECRET SOCIETY OF MANIFESTORS NOW OPEN✨Your Gateway to Manifesting Wealth, Love, Joy, and Freedom.Join now: www.manifestingmiracles.thinkific.com/pages/memberships⬆️ Try it out for free for one month!____________________________________________Looking for more ways to connect and work with Michelle?GET STARTED FOR FREE:

In Episode 26, Keith and Shawnn bring two fresh takes that question long-standing assumptions in the world of pro wrestling. One revisits a bold exit from the 1980s, the other reimagines what it means to win the Royal Rumble. Both takes are sure to spark conversation. Shit-Take #1 (Shawn): "Tom Zenk did the right thing by walking out on Vince McMahon in 1987." Shawn argues that Tom Zenk's decision to leave the WWF during a promising run as part of The Can-Am Connection wasn't a misstep — it was a principled stand. This take explores the importance of self-worth, business disagreements behind the scenes, and why Zenk's choice might have been more forward-thinking than most give him credit for.  Shit-Take #2 (Keith): "The Royal Rumble winner should be able to challenge for any title, not just the world title." Keith proposes expanding the stakes of the Royal Rumble. Instead of locking the winner into a world title match at WrestleMania, this take suggests giving them the freedom to challenge for any championship — whether it's the Intercontinental, U.S., or even tag team gold. The idea reframes the Rumble as a more open-ended path to WrestleMania.

Hello beautiful coven. This week we are talking about getting a cleansing from someone else and how sometimes you need that. We also talk about chat gbt spells and getting what you wish for lol. Dont forget please send us your stories to whatwouldwitchesdopodcast@gmail.com we love and appreciate you all sooo much. Have a beautiful day.

In this short yet powerful Five-Minute Quickie episode, we're diving into a question that could seriously supercharge your personal development journey: "How often do you check your progress—and why?" Cloughie explores the sweet spot between over-checking (hello, obsession and lost motivation!) and under-checking (hello, complacency and drifting off-course). Whether it's your personal goals, weight, mindset, career, or even podcast stats, finding your ideal review rhythm is the key to staying on track, boosting motivation, and making real progress. You'll learn: Why too much checking can destroy momentum Why not checking enough can cost you time and energy The hidden fears behind your review habits (fear of failure or fear of success?) A simple mindset shift to help you course-correct without self-judgment How to schedule reviews that actually work for you

Just like a wildcard who knows what's gonna happen but join Glick Blaze and Micheal for some shenanigansFOLLOW US EVERYWHERE bio.link/nonsensicalnetwork

Send us a textWe sit down with Robert Harris, a successful Inland Empire entrepreneur who has built multiple businesses while staying dedicated to his family and community. Harris shares how he created a smart business model that generates income while helping people, and why trying new things and adapting has been key to his success.He also talks about balancing fatherhood with entrepreneurship and why giving back to the community is just as important as growing his businesses. Thanks for tapping in with The Heavyweight Podcast. Make sure you follow, subscribe, and share with someone who needs this convo. Catch us on all socials for clips, updates, and more behind the mic. https://linktr.ee/TheHeavyweightPodcast

On this episode I think about what Gangster really suppose to mean, why Jerry jones should get out the way and more

‘I probably need to start with the s***,' Tim MacGabhann writes in his memoir.On Free State today, Tim MacGabhann talks about the shit and the salvation.His book is a story of addiction and recovery, a life trying to find something and then finding it in the place he didn't think it would be.It's a story of replacing the s*** with something better. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

TrulySignificant.com presents author Barry Garapedian riffing on 7 life lessons from Winning the Game of Life. In a world obsessed with success and personal achievement, Barry offers a revolutionary perspective: true success isn't about you- it's about the value you create for others. Barry will challenge your conventional wisdom, revealing that the path to fulfillment beyond self centered pursuits. Hear about doing things that are positive that do not require reciprocity. Drawing from 4 decades as a top financial advisor and his role at MAG7 Consulting, Barry presents groundbreaking tactics toward significance. Finally, learn about TOMS disease. Terrified of missing Shit.   Seriously people, we know that's you. Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/success-made-to-last-legends--4302039/support.

A chance at a new life. by  r a wallace. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.  Chapter 3: Regrets? Wendy I woke the next morning lying beside a man who wasn't my husband and felt good about it. I didn't feel a bit of guilt as I looked at him. I'd done two, one-night stands in my life and wasn't excited with what I found next to me in the morning. One of the reasons I had sworn off drinking before meeting my husband. The amazing part was, I didn't feel a bit horny at the moment and wondered if that was going to be a problem–would he want more from me now?As I lay there I wondered if he had saved my life, not merely by accident because of the baseball, but because he saw I was troubled and stayed with me, so I wouldn't try to use the pistol again. That was what I had intended. I simply didn't know if he had or not, but probably. His bringing me home with him had certainly changed my thinking in that regard. I'd been ready to end my life over a man Robb felt wasn't worthy of my consideration. Not that the passion he had shown as he lay into me didn't tell me I was desirable to at least one man. It had a tremendous effect on me for reasons I didn't fully understand, and maybe never would. I felt a movement, then Robb rolled over toward me, his eyes open. When he saw me looking at him he smiled, causing me smile back. “Could you spare a kiss this morning? He asked. "You mean could I spare a kiss and something else?” “A kiss and then you let me hold you for a while. The something else is up to you.” I laughed as I rolled over onto him, “Make way mister, you're going to get an armful of woman.” I snuggled into him and heard him reply. “You mean an armful of beautiful woman.” The words melted me immediately. If he had wanted to control me for his pleasure, he had me–no contest. We lay together not speaking for a while, his hands caressing my leg and arm. I kissed his neck a few times, then snuggled and closed my eyes again–he pulled me closer. I could hear his heart beating, feel his chest rise and fall, and smell him. When was the last time I had been so intimate and comfortable with a man? I couldn't remember for sure. It was sad, but I couldn't, not even with my husband. Shit! My husband. I was going to have to go home and face him today. Would he even notice I hadn't come home? If he did would he even care? Knowing him, his only concern was that I would make him look bad–his wife not home and obedient where she should be. He would push for me to attend Fellowship with him in the afternoon to keep up appearances with the congregation. I pushed the thought away as my stomach tightened. I'd make this time with Robb last another hour, then face the reality of my life. At this juncture I realized I had one to live thanks to someone who cared enough for a woman crying on a park bench to intervene. It was as incredible as it seemed I realized. I was lying in bed with a man in my panties after he had promised to do what I asked of him to end my despair. “Are you hungry?” He asked. “Yes, actually I am.” “Does scrambled eggs, corned-beefed hash, and toast sound good to you?” The words made my mouth start to water. I realized I hadn't eaten but the Danish since the previous morning. My stomach gave an audible growl and I placed my hand over it as if it would hush it. “I'll take that as a ‘yes'”, he laughed lightly. “I have to pee,” I slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. I finished my business, washed my hands, than looked into the mirror while running my fingers through my hair. I thought I looked hideous. Then I thought again about why I was here in the first place. That's what a tart looks like. At least a satisfied one. I swallowed hard, opened the bathroom door, and walked into the bedroom to see Robb sitting on the edge of the bed in his briefs. When he saw me his jaw dropped. “My god! Wendy, you're gorgeous. Drop dead gorgeous.” I stopped dead in my tracks, looking down to see my breasts standing proud, my flat stomach, pantie clad pelvis, my shapely legs, and my red polished toenails. The sunlight coming in through the window hitting my skin warmed it ever so slightly. I looked up at him as he rose from the bed with a smile. I wasn't sure what he was going to do– grab me and take me without asking? “My turn. Why don't you get dressed, I'll join you in a minute, so we can eat.” The bathroom door closed and I walked to where my blouse and skirt lie on the floor. His words, his expression, his smile of obvious delight with my appearance all came back to me. I put my bra on, finished dressing, and sat on the edge of the bed looking around. The bedroom was tastefully decorated and there was no sign in the form of a photograph, or other articles suggesting he had a girlfriend. Okay, if he was unattached that made it easier, I wasn't the 'other woman'. At least I hoped I wasn't. I knew who my husband was screwing when I saw them from the hallway– she headed the prayer group that met on Friday nights almost every week. I had gone to several of them and stopped going as it was too much for me– touting how a woman should respect her husband and honor his wishes even if she weren't entirely onboard with it. Yes, she espoused Christian women bear the fruit of the Spirit- love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Well, so much for faithfulness and self-control parts. Peace might work too if you spelled it 'piece' and added two words. She was thin, with big boobs, and blonde hair that came out of a bottle. I'd met her husband twice and he made my husband look really good by comparison. It was obvious to me some of her prayers hadn't been answered. That, or God's plan for her was as flawed as my own. My husband was so deep into her they never noticed I was in the house. I had simply left in tears, devastated at the sight. Robb I was a little nervous as I opened my eyes–was she going to be ashamed, guilty, for what we'd done last night? Seeing her in the dim light the night before gave me hints she was well-endowed. It hadn't taken much effort to get her to orgasm. In fact, I had hardly gotten started when she gasped, and I felt her muscles contact around me. When she got on top she didn't hold anything back– she went all out. It was when she walked out of the bathroom that I saw her in full light for the first time– she was absolutely beautiful. Her husband had to be a real piece of work to walk away from someone like her. I was pleased I'd taken a low profile approach and brought her into my arms to comfort her when we woke. When she smiled her teeth showed from between nicely formed lips, her blue eyes sparkled. Though I knew it unwise to feel so protective, it made me want to never let her go. I reminded myself again she was separated from her husband, not divorced. She could go back to him, they could work things out. There are always two sides to a story– I could be the one to ruin their marriage. I had to admit it bothered me. Shit, what was I thinking? After what I saw, this woman was hurting and I had done the right thing by her. Don't overthink this dude, she needed someone, and you were there. Wendy I sat with a glass of orange juice as he made breakfast. I felt a little awkward just sitting there doing nothing. My husband would never cook because that was a woman's job. I tried to lighten the mood a little by asking Robb what he had planned for the day– at least it was a safe question. “I volunteer at the Community Food Bank, so I'll be working there most of the afternoon.” “Really, that sounds nice, I bet you meet a lot of interesting people there.” “I do, but sometimes it's hard to see how many people with young children have to rely on it. I never knew how many people live right on the edge until I started there. It makes me appreciate I have a good education and a well-paying job.” “So, what do you do?” “Computer Aided Design, CAD, for an engineering firm. It pays well and has regular hours. How about you?” It struck me that after talking with him for hours I'd never mentioned my job once. But, then in my emotional state that was the last thing on my mind. “I work as a clerical for a law firm, close to a paralegal I guess, but they don't pay me for that.” “Wendy, I have to ask. How are you feeling? Are you going to be ready to go home and feel safe?” “He's not abusive physically, so I'm not worried about that. But, in all honesty I'm dreading having to spend the afternoon with him, and I know he'll demand it.” “Do you want to stay another few hours?” “Thanks, but I know I should go home, take a shower, and get into some fresh clothes. I'm going to have to deal with it and a few hours here won't change anything. Robb, about last night. Thank you, I mean that. I needed what you gave me. You saved me from hurting myself.” “I think you should get some professional help. That is if you can afford it.” “I can't, but I'll deal with this. I've been putting off making the decision, but after yesterday I know I'm damned if I don't.” “What decision is that?” “I want to get a divorce and move on with my life. Thanks to you, I recognize killing myself wasn't the way to punish him. He would have won in a way, and I don't want that. Call it what you will, a form of revenge in a way, if I leave him. I have friends, family, and a job that pays enough to live on if I do.” We sat silent for a minute, eating in silence. Then I looked up at him with a smile. “I promise not to do something stupid.” “I want to believe that,” he replied with a firm expression. I reached for my shoulder bag hanging on the empty chair next to me, and took out the pistol, handing it to him butt first. “Here, keep this.” He took the pistol from my hand and placed it on the counter behind him, then looked at me. “I suppose I should take you home.” “Yes, but not home. Back to the park, I can walk from there, I don't…” “I know. You don't need to say it. I wouldn't want to make things any harder for you.” “Thank you for being so understanding.” “Wendy, give me your phone so I can put my contact information in it. Just in case… well… in case you need a friend again. By the way, you stayed with my wife Cindy and me last night. You know her from… let's see… she's one of your clients from work.” I took my phone out and handed it to him. When he gave it back I checked and saw he had put in 'Robb, Com. Food Bank'. I looked at him with a frown. “Just in case someone looks at your contacts. No reason for a man's first and last name to show up– it might cause problems. If someone asks, you may decide to volunteer, and I'm the contact person.” I was pretty much lost in thought as he drove me to the park. I felt myself tense, my stomach going into knots. I got out before Robb could attempt to open the door for me and looked back into the car– my emotions mixed with good and bad. “Robb, thank you. I know it sounds lame, but you made a difference, a big one. I can't explain why I asked you to do what I asked of you, maybe it was because I wanted to feel like a desirable woman again.” “Wendy, I can't pretend to know you, all I can say is you deserve to be happy. Please, don't throw your life away, do what you need to do to move your life forward. If you ever need a friend to lean on call me. I promise to be there for you.” I watched as he drove away, then turned and took the first step back to a life filled with problems. Regardless of the outcome, I had a life to rebuild and I was determined to make it better. It was time to face my demons. Robb had given me that chance– I wasn't going to waste it. I had always been strong in the face of adversity and the one time I had faltered there was someone who cared enough to pull me through. I would always be grateful to him. Chapter 4: Reflections Robb Well, this had been two of the strangest days in my life. I save a woman from killing herself, comfort her by having sex with her, feed her breakfast, and drop her off to return to a husband who doesn't deserve her. Sure, I was recovering from a failed relationship of long standing, but I had never come close to committing suicide despite the pain. But, depression affects people in different ways and some can climb out of it, others can't without help. I hoped Wendy had the strength to do what she needed to do to make her life better. I drove home wondering if I would ever get a phone call from her in the future. After walking in the door I went to put things away in the kitchen– there was the pistol sitting where I had left it. I hefted it, it had been a long time since I had fired a pistol in the military; it still felt familiar. I walked to the bedroom and to the closet, opened my fire safe, and placed it inside along with the rounds I had taken out of the clip. Wendy I walked the fifteen minutes home thinking of what I would need to do. I walked in the door after seeing his car in the driveway– he was home. He was sitting in front of the TV watching a car race when I walked in. “Where have you been? We have to get ready for church in a few hours you know.” “I stayed with a friend last night. Sorry, I should have called, or left a text.” He looked at me with a wicked grin, “You go to the bedroom and take your clothes off. We haven't done it in a while, and I'm feeling you might be good about now.” I froze, my stomach went tight. If there was something I didn't want from him that was it. “I'm not in the mood right now, maybe later.” “I'm not interested if you're in the mood, get yourself in the mood. I'll be in after the race is over in about ten minutes.” “Honey, I'm sorry, I really don't want to, maybe after church this afternoon.” He looked at me with a scowl. “You're my wife, that means you listen to what I need, and give it when I want it. It's probably those pills you take to avoid getting pregnant. I hear they mess up a woman's mind too. It's time for you to stop taking them.” 'There's nothing wrong with my mind that getting away from you for a while won't solve. You haven't touched me in six months, and now you want me to flop onto my back for you. Well, it's not going to happen this time.“ He turned the volume down on the TV and stared at me with hard eyes, "What are you saying, you're not going to be a wife?” “What! Be a wife only when you want to be a husband! Why don't you be a husband to me instead of spending all your time with Joanne Winston,” my voice going shrill. “Joanne has nothing to do with this,” he thundered. “I'm grateful for that. My Lord, I guess you having her bent over the sofa, your cock inside her didn't mean anything.” I saw is face grow taut, his jaw moving slightly, but he didn't say anything. “Yes, I walked in and saw the both of you. You were so intent on screwing her you didn't even hear, or see me. I'm going to divorce your ass.” “You can't talk to me that way. I had a moment of weakness and I've prayed for forgiveness. I want to make it up to you.” “Oh, so you can go around screwing her for months and you expect me to forgive you. I guess I'm not the hardcore Christian woman you thought I was. I'm going to pack my clothes and things I need and find someplace else to live until the divorce is final.” He stormed towards me, grabbed my blouse and torn it open, his eyes wild, “You're in my house, you are my wife, I'm going to have you as is my right. Now, we can do it the hard way, or the easy way. But, I'm going to get my due out of you.” I knew I wasn't going to be able to stop him, he was much too large for me to resist him. My mind scrambled to find a way to tamp things down. For the first time I was afraid of being raped– by my own husband. Maybe I wasn't thinking straight, but it was the only thing that came to mind. “Well, it's about time you showed some real interest in these,” as I placed my hands under my breasts and pushed them up. I saw a look of confusion on his face. He stopped, his hands went down to his sides as his eyes remained glued on my heaving chest. I swallowed hard, it was taking every bit of strength for me to take a step toward him. I planted a kiss on his cheek, my stomach protesting, then forced a smile. “Finish watching your race, then come in and treat me as your wife. I went off the pill a month ago if you want to know.” I watched as he sat back down on the sofa, his temper had settled. I was sure he didn't even think my comment about Joanne made a difference– as far as he was concerned he'd been forgiven by the Lord. Well, I wasn't the Lord and the memory of them at the sofa was fresh in my mind. He was going to hell as far as I was concerned and I knew he would have company. He looked at me, his face stoic. “This will be over in about seven minutes. Glad you came to your senses.” His words made me want to heave. I rushed down the hall, into our bedroom, pulled out a suitcase and jammed underwear, a bra, some blouses, a few pairs of slacks, and two pairs of shoes into it. I slipped out the door into the garage as he stared at the TV. I didn't have much, but it would be enough for a few days until I could come back for more. The asshole wasn't ever going to touch me again. I rushed to my car and was away as fast as I could go, the tires squealing as I drove off. My last look was of him standing in front of the garage in my rear-view mirror– I had gotten away. I got as far as the park and pulled onto a side street and called my parents. They lived about two hours away where my husband wasn't likely to go. After a minute to settle myself, I called and told them I was coming to spend the night and would leave early for work in the morning. I Explained I would tell them what was going on when I got there. I started driving and felt my hands tremble as I gripped the steering wheel. He had intended on taking me regardless of what I wanted and the fear was now manifesting itself. I settled down after a while and the drive to my parents' home was enough time for me to reflect on my three years with him. Three full years of my life down the drain because I wasn't mature enough to know better– our relationship had gone bad after no more than a year. We had disagreed on one thing after another, at first small things, then major things– like having children, and having money in a savings account. I spilled everything to my parents, well… not everything. The pistol and Robb I omitted not wanting to admit I had been so desperate. They sat silent and let me talk and when I was finished told me they understood and would help me in any way they could. I took my suitcase into the guest bedroom and sat down on the bed. I opened the suitcase to see what I had selected in my haste to get out of the house hoping there was the right combination to wear to work the next day. I slept poorly, tossing and turning, thinking I had screwed my life up big time. I had sought revenge on by husband by sleeping with a total stranger and realized I would never use it against him. I didn't want to look like that kind of woman. He had his righteous Christian woman and the Lord had forgiven him. What did I have now? I felt asleep and jerked up with a start when the alarm went off. Chapter 5: Freudian Slip? Wendy I drove to work and stumbled into the office half awake. I struggled through the day and realized I hadn't made arrangements for a place to stay for the night. It didn't make sense to drive all the way back to my parents' house again. I hadn't closed my savings account, or made it a joint account after we married– now happy I hadn't. I went to the ATM and withdrew enough money for the week to stay in a cheap motel. It would do for the time being and I decided I wasn't going to go back for my clothes either– I'd shop for what I needed. The account was healthy enough to support me for a while, so at least I felt better about that. After work I drove to the cheapest place I knew, committing for one night. I walked into the room, put my suitcase on the chair, and fell exhausted onto the bed. I woke up three hours later feeling hungry and decided to walk down the street to a fast food place for a salad. I had put my phone on silent and when I looked at it found there were multiple calls, and text messages from my husband. I deleted all of them and blocked his number. No sense in talking with him, he could do that through my lawyer, and I'd find one before the end of the week. The week went along and the women at work knew something was up. I finally revealed I'd left my husband and was living in a motel. One of the single women offered me a room in her apartment saying she didn't use it for anything other than storing a few boxes of stuff. I accepted her offer and moved in two days later after buying a used single bed and bedding to make it up from a thrift shop. I needed to stretch my money as far as I could not knowing how long it would be before I could end my marriage. Clara was a godsend, she was always such a happy person, her personality was exactly what I needed, and I found my mood improved as the days went by. We shared expenses for food, so that helped too. The biggest change after a few days was I didn't feel stressed as much as I had before. I didn't realize how much it was taking out of me having to deal with my husband day in and day out. I found a lawyer and gave him the go ahead to do whatever was needed. He told me if my husband didn't contest the filing it could be done in a month at a modest cost. Under state law I was entitled to half of our real assets and funds held in joint accounts at the time of the filing. A week later I had diverted my paycheck to my new checking account. I was feeling better about the decision I had made when my husband showed up in the lobby of the building asking to see me. My lawyer told me it was best not to talk with him unless someone were with me, even if it were not him. I told the receptionist to tell him I was in a meeting for the rest of the day. I found out later he left after a few minutes saying he would try to see me later obviously unhappy. I was eating supper with Clara when my phone rang, it was my mother. I decided to ignore it and call her back after we finished eating. I walked into my bedroom for privacy, went to my contacts, and touched the screen. A male voice answered, thinking it was my dad who had picked up. “Hi Dad, this is Wendy. How are you?” There was a long pause, then. “Wendy, this is Robb. Are you okay?” Surprised, I stammered out a reply, then regained my composure. “How are you?” “Good, work and doing the volunteer stuff, nothing unusual. But, why are you calling me?” I didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him I hadn't meant to call him. I was trying to come up with a plausible explanation when he offered. “You called my number by mistake didn't you?” “Yes, I'm sorry. I never took your number out of my contacts.” “I understand. So, things are going well with you and your husband?” “No. I'm in the process of getting a divorce. I'm living with a friend in her apartment until I get things settled. I hope my lawyer will have good news for me by next week.” That's great, ugh, well… not great news… “Robb, it's okay. I understand it's awkward.” “Good, it's good to know you're moving your life forward and you're safe. Well, I'll let you get back to whomever you meant to call.” “Thanks.” I replied not knowing exactly what else to say. I saw the call end and this time pressed the number for my mother: Roberta, not Robb. I would remove Robb's information after talking with her. My Mother answered and told me my husband had called her asking if she knew where I was living. I felt my heart go into my stomach. He was stilling looking for me. “Honey, I told him I didn't know where. I won't repeat what he said, it would only upset you. Your father and I think you're doing the right thing. Be strong, see this through, and when things settle down you'll find a man that's good for you.” That was my mother, always looking for the silver lining. We talked for another half hour and then I put my phone down. I would call my lawyer tomorrow and see if he had anything to tell me. I opened my contacts to delete Robb's number, my finger almost touching the screen when I pulled it back. I probably should have thanked him again for helping me. I'd call him back, then delete it after we finished talking. I selected his name, waited for the dial tone, and for him to pick up. “Robb here.” “Robb, it's Wendy again.” There was a pause. “You're alright aren't you?” I laughed. “Yes, I'm fine. I thought I should call you back and thank you again for helping me.” “Okay, you know I'm pleased you're alright. You sound good, I can almost see your smile. I remember what you look like when you wear one.” I felt myself smiling like a fool, I remembered when I had smiled at him that way. Memoires flooded my mine and I felt myself go warm remembering being in bed with him the following morning. There was a long pause between us, then I started to say something just has he did, we both stopped, another pause. “Go ahead, what did you have to say,” he offered. “I don't know, what did you want to say?” Another pause, I felt myself tense wondering now if I should have called him. “Wendy, are you free tonight?” “Yes. Well not free, but reasonable,” I replied flippantly. I heard him laugh. “Reasonable works for me. How about I come and pick you up and we can go out for a coffee.” “Robb, I'm still married. I want to, but I'm not sure it's a good idea.” “I understand, it makes sense, sorry. I guess I wasn't thinking straight.” “Robb, I would say yes otherwise. Really, I would.” - to be continued.. By R A Wallace for Literotica

A chance at a new life. by  r a wallace. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.  Chapter 3: Regrets? Wendy I woke the next morning lying beside a man who wasn't my husband and felt good about it. I didn't feel a bit of guilt as I looked at him. I'd done two, one-night stands in my life and wasn't excited with what I found next to me in the morning. One of the reasons I had sworn off drinking before meeting my husband. The amazing part was, I didn't feel a bit horny at the moment and wondered if that was going to be a problem–would he want more from me now?As I lay there I wondered if he had saved my life, not merely by accident because of the baseball, but because he saw I was troubled and stayed with me, so I wouldn't try to use the pistol again. That was what I had intended. I simply didn't know if he had or not, but probably. His bringing me home with him had certainly changed my thinking in that regard. I'd been ready to end my life over a man Robb felt wasn't worthy of my consideration. Not that the passion he had shown as he lay into me didn't tell me I was desirable to at least one man. It had a tremendous effect on me for reasons I didn't fully understand, and maybe never would. I felt a movement, then Robb rolled over toward me, his eyes open. When he saw me looking at him he smiled, causing me smile back. “Could you spare a kiss this morning? He asked. "You mean could I spare a kiss and something else?” “A kiss and then you let me hold you for a while. The something else is up to you.” I laughed as I rolled over onto him, “Make way mister, you're going to get an armful of woman.” I snuggled into him and heard him reply. “You mean an armful of beautiful woman.” The words melted me immediately. If he had wanted to control me for his pleasure, he had me–no contest. We lay together not speaking for a while, his hands caressing my leg and arm. I kissed his neck a few times, then snuggled and closed my eyes again–he pulled me closer. I could hear his heart beating, feel his chest rise and fall, and smell him. When was the last time I had been so intimate and comfortable with a man? I couldn't remember for sure. It was sad, but I couldn't, not even with my husband. Shit! My husband. I was going to have to go home and face him today. Would he even notice I hadn't come home? If he did would he even care? Knowing him, his only concern was that I would make him look bad–his wife not home and obedient where she should be. He would push for me to attend Fellowship with him in the afternoon to keep up appearances with the congregation. I pushed the thought away as my stomach tightened. I'd make this time with Robb last another hour, then face the reality of my life. At this juncture I realized I had one to live thanks to someone who cared enough for a woman crying on a park bench to intervene. It was as incredible as it seemed I realized. I was lying in bed with a man in my panties after he had promised to do what I asked of him to end my despair. “Are you hungry?” He asked. “Yes, actually I am.” “Does scrambled eggs, corned-beefed hash, and toast sound good to you?” The words made my mouth start to water. I realized I hadn't eaten but the Danish since the previous morning. My stomach gave an audible growl and I placed my hand over it as if it would hush it. “I'll take that as a ‘yes'”, he laughed lightly. “I have to pee,” I slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. I finished my business, washed my hands, than looked into the mirror while running my fingers through my hair. I thought I looked hideous. Then I thought again about why I was here in the first place. That's what a tart looks like. At least a satisfied one. I swallowed hard, opened the bathroom door, and walked into the bedroom to see Robb sitting on the edge of the bed in his briefs. When he saw me his jaw dropped. “My god! Wendy, you're gorgeous. Drop dead gorgeous.” I stopped dead in my tracks, looking down to see my breasts standing proud, my flat stomach, pantie clad pelvis, my shapely legs, and my red polished toenails. The sunlight coming in through the window hitting my skin warmed it ever so slightly. I looked up at him as he rose from the bed with a smile. I wasn't sure what he was going to do– grab me and take me without asking? “My turn. Why don't you get dressed, I'll join you in a minute, so we can eat.” The bathroom door closed and I walked to where my blouse and skirt lie on the floor. His words, his expression, his smile of obvious delight with my appearance all came back to me. I put my bra on, finished dressing, and sat on the edge of the bed looking around. The bedroom was tastefully decorated and there was no sign in the form of a photograph, or other articles suggesting he had a girlfriend. Okay, if he was unattached that made it easier, I wasn't the 'other woman'. At least I hoped I wasn't. I knew who my husband was screwing when I saw them from the hallway– she headed the prayer group that met on Friday nights almost every week. I had gone to several of them and stopped going as it was too much for me– touting how a woman should respect her husband and honor his wishes even if she weren't entirely onboard with it. Yes, she espoused Christian women bear the fruit of the Spirit- love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Well, so much for faithfulness and self-control parts. Peace might work too if you spelled it 'piece' and added two words. She was thin, with big boobs, and blonde hair that came out of a bottle. I'd met her husband twice and he made my husband look really good by comparison. It was obvious to me some of her prayers hadn't been answered. That, or God's plan for her was as flawed as my own. My husband was so deep into her they never noticed I was in the house. I had simply left in tears, devastated at the sight. Robb I was a little nervous as I opened my eyes–was she going to be ashamed, guilty, for what we'd done last night? Seeing her in the dim light the night before gave me hints she was well-endowed. It hadn't taken much effort to get her to orgasm. In fact, I had hardly gotten started when she gasped, and I felt her muscles contact around me. When she got on top she didn't hold anything back– she went all out. It was when she walked out of the bathroom that I saw her in full light for the first time– she was absolutely beautiful. Her husband had to be a real piece of work to walk away from someone like her. I was pleased I'd taken a low profile approach and brought her into my arms to comfort her when we woke. When she smiled her teeth showed from between nicely formed lips, her blue eyes sparkled. Though I knew it unwise to feel so protective, it made me want to never let her go. I reminded myself again she was separated from her husband, not divorced. She could go back to him, they could work things out. There are always two sides to a story– I could be the one to ruin their marriage. I had to admit it bothered me. Shit, what was I thinking? After what I saw, this woman was hurting and I had done the right thing by her. Don't overthink this dude, she needed someone, and you were there. Wendy I sat with a glass of orange juice as he made breakfast. I felt a little awkward just sitting there doing nothing. My husband would never cook because that was a woman's job. I tried to lighten the mood a little by asking Robb what he had planned for the day– at least it was a safe question. “I volunteer at the Community Food Bank, so I'll be working there most of the afternoon.” “Really, that sounds nice, I bet you meet a lot of interesting people there.” “I do, but sometimes it's hard to see how many people with young children have to rely on it. I never knew how many people live right on the edge until I started there. It makes me appreciate I have a good education and a well-paying job.” “So, what do you do?” “Computer Aided Design, CAD, for an engineering firm. It pays well and has regular hours. How about you?” It struck me that after talking with him for hours I'd never mentioned my job once. But, then in my emotional state that was the last thing on my mind. “I work as a clerical for a law firm, close to a paralegal I guess, but they don't pay me for that.” “Wendy, I have to ask. How are you feeling? Are you going to be ready to go home and feel safe?” “He's not abusive physically, so I'm not worried about that. But, in all honesty I'm dreading having to spend the afternoon with him, and I know he'll demand it.” “Do you want to stay another few hours?” “Thanks, but I know I should go home, take a shower, and get into some fresh clothes. I'm going to have to deal with it and a few hours here won't change anything. Robb, about last night. Thank you, I mean that. I needed what you gave me. You saved me from hurting myself.” “I think you should get some professional help. That is if you can afford it.” “I can't, but I'll deal with this. I've been putting off making the decision, but after yesterday I know I'm damned if I don't.” “What decision is that?” “I want to get a divorce and move on with my life. Thanks to you, I recognize killing myself wasn't the way to punish him. He would have won in a way, and I don't want that. Call it what you will, a form of revenge in a way, if I leave him. I have friends, family, and a job that pays enough to live on if I do.” We sat silent for a minute, eating in silence. Then I looked up at him with a smile. “I promise not to do something stupid.” “I want to believe that,” he replied with a firm expression. I reached for my shoulder bag hanging on the empty chair next to me, and took out the pistol, handing it to him butt first. “Here, keep this.” He took the pistol from my hand and placed it on the counter behind him, then looked at me. “I suppose I should take you home.” “Yes, but not home. Back to the park, I can walk from there, I don't…” “I know. You don't need to say it. I wouldn't want to make things any harder for you.” “Thank you for being so understanding.” “Wendy, give me your phone so I can put my contact information in it. Just in case… well… in case you need a friend again. By the way, you stayed with my wife Cindy and me last night. You know her from… let's see… she's one of your clients from work.” I took my phone out and handed it to him. When he gave it back I checked and saw he had put in 'Robb, Com. Food Bank'. I looked at him with a frown. “Just in case someone looks at your contacts. No reason for a man's first and last name to show up– it might cause problems. If someone asks, you may decide to volunteer, and I'm the contact person.” I was pretty much lost in thought as he drove me to the park. I felt myself tense, my stomach going into knots. I got out before Robb could attempt to open the door for me and looked back into the car– my emotions mixed with good and bad. “Robb, thank you. I know it sounds lame, but you made a difference, a big one. I can't explain why I asked you to do what I asked of you, maybe it was because I wanted to feel like a desirable woman again.” “Wendy, I can't pretend to know you, all I can say is you deserve to be happy. Please, don't throw your life away, do what you need to do to move your life forward. If you ever need a friend to lean on call me. I promise to be there for you.” I watched as he drove away, then turned and took the first step back to a life filled with problems. Regardless of the outcome, I had a life to rebuild and I was determined to make it better. It was time to face my demons. Robb had given me that chance– I wasn't going to waste it. I had always been strong in the face of adversity and the one time I had faltered there was someone who cared enough to pull me through. I would always be grateful to him. Chapter 4: Reflections Robb Well, this had been two of the strangest days in my life. I save a woman from killing herself, comfort her by having sex with her, feed her breakfast, and drop her off to return to a husband who doesn't deserve her. Sure, I was recovering from a failed relationship of long standing, but I had never come close to committing suicide despite the pain. But, depression affects people in different ways and some can climb out of it, others can't without help. I hoped Wendy had the strength to do what she needed to do to make her life better. I drove home wondering if I would ever get a phone call from her in the future. After walking in the door I went to put things away in the kitchen– there was the pistol sitting where I had left it. I hefted it, it had been a long time since I had fired a pistol in the military; it still felt familiar. I walked to the bedroom and to the closet, opened my fire safe, and placed it inside along with the rounds I had taken out of the clip. Wendy I walked the fifteen minutes home thinking of what I would need to do. I walked in the door after seeing his car in the driveway– he was home. He was sitting in front of the TV watching a car race when I walked in. “Where have you been? We have to get ready for church in a few hours you know.” “I stayed with a friend last night. Sorry, I should have called, or left a text.” He looked at me with a wicked grin, “You go to the bedroom and take your clothes off. We haven't done it in a while, and I'm feeling you might be good about now.” I froze, my stomach went tight. If there was something I didn't want from him that was it. “I'm not in the mood right now, maybe later.” “I'm not interested if you're in the mood, get yourself in the mood. I'll be in after the race is over in about ten minutes.” “Honey, I'm sorry, I really don't want to, maybe after church this afternoon.” He looked at me with a scowl. “You're my wife, that means you listen to what I need, and give it when I want it. It's probably those pills you take to avoid getting pregnant. I hear they mess up a woman's mind too. It's time for you to stop taking them.” 'There's nothing wrong with my mind that getting away from you for a while won't solve. You haven't touched me in six months, and now you want me to flop onto my back for you. Well, it's not going to happen this time.“ He turned the volume down on the TV and stared at me with hard eyes, "What are you saying, you're not going to be a wife?” “What! Be a wife only when you want to be a husband! Why don't you be a husband to me instead of spending all your time with Joanne Winston,” my voice going shrill. “Joanne has nothing to do with this,” he thundered. “I'm grateful for that. My Lord, I guess you having her bent over the sofa, your cock inside her didn't mean anything.” I saw is face grow taut, his jaw moving slightly, but he didn't say anything. “Yes, I walked in and saw the both of you. You were so intent on screwing her you didn't even hear, or see me. I'm going to divorce your ass.” “You can't talk to me that way. I had a moment of weakness and I've prayed for forgiveness. I want to make it up to you.” “Oh, so you can go around screwing her for months and you expect me to forgive you. I guess I'm not the hardcore Christian woman you thought I was. I'm going to pack my clothes and things I need and find someplace else to live until the divorce is final.” He stormed towards me, grabbed my blouse and torn it open, his eyes wild, “You're in my house, you are my wife, I'm going to have you as is my right. Now, we can do it the hard way, or the easy way. But, I'm going to get my due out of you.” I knew I wasn't going to be able to stop him, he was much too large for me to resist him. My mind scrambled to find a way to tamp things down. For the first time I was afraid of being raped– by my own husband. Maybe I wasn't thinking straight, but it was the only thing that came to mind. “Well, it's about time you showed some real interest in these,” as I placed my hands under my breasts and pushed them up. I saw a look of confusion on his face. He stopped, his hands went down to his sides as his eyes remained glued on my heaving chest. I swallowed hard, it was taking every bit of strength for me to take a step toward him. I planted a kiss on his cheek, my stomach protesting, then forced a smile. “Finish watching your race, then come in and treat me as your wife. I went off the pill a month ago if you want to know.” I watched as he sat back down on the sofa, his temper had settled. I was sure he didn't even think my comment about Joanne made a difference– as far as he was concerned he'd been forgiven by the Lord. Well, I wasn't the Lord and the memory of them at the sofa was fresh in my mind. He was going to hell as far as I was concerned and I knew he would have company. He looked at me, his face stoic. “This will be over in about seven minutes. Glad you came to your senses.” His words made me want to heave. I rushed down the hall, into our bedroom, pulled out a suitcase and jammed underwear, a bra, some blouses, a few pairs of slacks, and two pairs of shoes into it. I slipped out the door into the garage as he stared at the TV. I didn't have much, but it would be enough for a few days until I could come back for more. The asshole wasn't ever going to touch me again. I rushed to my car and was away as fast as I could go, the tires squealing as I drove off. My last look was of him standing in front of the garage in my rear-view mirror– I had gotten away. I got as far as the park and pulled onto a side street and called my parents. They lived about two hours away where my husband wasn't likely to go. After a minute to settle myself, I called and told them I was coming to spend the night and would leave early for work in the morning. I Explained I would tell them what was going on when I got there. I started driving and felt my hands tremble as I gripped the steering wheel. He had intended on taking me regardless of what I wanted and the fear was now manifesting itself. I settled down after a while and the drive to my parents' home was enough time for me to reflect on my three years with him. Three full years of my life down the drain because I wasn't mature enough to know better– our relationship had gone bad after no more than a year. We had disagreed on one thing after another, at first small things, then major things– like having children, and having money in a savings account. I spilled everything to my parents, well… not everything. The pistol and Robb I omitted not wanting to admit I had been so desperate. They sat silent and let me talk and when I was finished told me they understood and would help me in any way they could. I took my suitcase into the guest bedroom and sat down on the bed. I opened the suitcase to see what I had selected in my haste to get out of the house hoping there was the right combination to wear to work the next day. I slept poorly, tossing and turning, thinking I had screwed my life up big time. I had sought revenge on by husband by sleeping with a total stranger and realized I would never use it against him. I didn't want to look like that kind of woman. He had his righteous Christian woman and the Lord had forgiven him. What did I have now? I felt asleep and jerked up with a start when the alarm went off. Chapter 5: Freudian Slip? Wendy I drove to work and stumbled into the office half awake. I struggled through the day and realized I hadn't made arrangements for a place to stay for the night. It didn't make sense to drive all the way back to my parents' house again. I hadn't closed my savings account, or made it a joint account after we married– now happy I hadn't. I went to the ATM and withdrew enough money for the week to stay in a cheap motel. It would do for the time being and I decided I wasn't going to go back for my clothes either– I'd shop for what I needed. The account was healthy enough to support me for a while, so at least I felt better about that. After work I drove to the cheapest place I knew, committing for one night. I walked into the room, put my suitcase on the chair, and fell exhausted onto the bed. I woke up three hours later feeling hungry and decided to walk down the street to a fast food place for a salad. I had put my phone on silent and when I looked at it found there were multiple calls, and text messages from my husband. I deleted all of them and blocked his number. No sense in talking with him, he could do that through my lawyer, and I'd find one before the end of the week. The week went along and the women at work knew something was up. I finally revealed I'd left my husband and was living in a motel. One of the single women offered me a room in her apartment saying she didn't use it for anything other than storing a few boxes of stuff. I accepted her offer and moved in two days later after buying a used single bed and bedding to make it up from a thrift shop. I needed to stretch my money as far as I could not knowing how long it would be before I could end my marriage. Clara was a godsend, she was always such a happy person, her personality was exactly what I needed, and I found my mood improved as the days went by. We shared expenses for food, so that helped too. The biggest change after a few days was I didn't feel stressed as much as I had before. I didn't realize how much it was taking out of me having to deal with my husband day in and day out. I found a lawyer and gave him the go ahead to do whatever was needed. He told me if my husband didn't contest the filing it could be done in a month at a modest cost. Under state law I was entitled to half of our real assets and funds held in joint accounts at the time of the filing. A week later I had diverted my paycheck to my new checking account. I was feeling better about the decision I had made when my husband showed up in the lobby of the building asking to see me. My lawyer told me it was best not to talk with him unless someone were with me, even if it were not him. I told the receptionist to tell him I was in a meeting for the rest of the day. I found out later he left after a few minutes saying he would try to see me later obviously unhappy. I was eating supper with Clara when my phone rang, it was my mother. I decided to ignore it and call her back after we finished eating. I walked into my bedroom for privacy, went to my contacts, and touched the screen. A male voice answered, thinking it was my dad who had picked up. “Hi Dad, this is Wendy. How are you?” There was a long pause, then. “Wendy, this is Robb. Are you okay?” Surprised, I stammered out a reply, then regained my composure. “How are you?” “Good, work and doing the volunteer stuff, nothing unusual. But, why are you calling me?” I didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him I hadn't meant to call him. I was trying to come up with a plausible explanation when he offered. “You called my number by mistake didn't you?” “Yes, I'm sorry. I never took your number out of my contacts.” “I understand. So, things are going well with you and your husband?” “No. I'm in the process of getting a divorce. I'm living with a friend in her apartment until I get things settled. I hope my lawyer will have good news for me by next week.” That's great, ugh, well… not great news… “Robb, it's okay. I understand it's awkward.” “Good, it's good to know you're moving your life forward and you're safe. Well, I'll let you get back to whomever you meant to call.” “Thanks.” I replied not knowing exactly what else to say. I saw the call end and this time pressed the number for my mother: Roberta, not Robb. I would remove Robb's information after talking with her. My Mother answered and told me my husband had called her asking if she knew where I was living. I felt my heart go into my stomach. He was stilling looking for me. “Honey, I told him I didn't know where. I won't repeat what he said, it would only upset you. Your father and I think you're doing the right thing. Be strong, see this through, and when things settle down you'll find a man that's good for you.” That was my mother, always looking for the silver lining. We talked for another half hour and then I put my phone down. I would call my lawyer tomorrow and see if he had anything to tell me. I opened my contacts to delete Robb's number, my finger almost touching the screen when I pulled it back. I probably should have thanked him again for helping me. I'd call him back, then delete it after we finished talking. I selected his name, waited for the dial tone, and for him to pick up. “Robb here.” “Robb, it's Wendy again.” There was a pause. “You're alright aren't you?” I laughed. “Yes, I'm fine. I thought I should call you back and thank you again for helping me.” “Okay, you know I'm pleased you're alright. You sound good, I can almost see your smile. I remember what you look like when you wear one.” I felt myself smiling like a fool, I remembered when I had smiled at him that way. Memoires flooded my mine and I felt myself go warm remembering being in bed with him the following morning. There was a long pause between us, then I started to say something just has he did, we both stopped, another pause. “Go ahead, what did you have to say,” he offered. “I don't know, what did you want to say?” Another pause, I felt myself tense wondering now if I should have called him. “Wendy, are you free tonight?” “Yes. Well not free, but reasonable,” I replied flippantly. I heard him laugh. “Reasonable works for me. How about I come and pick you up and we can go out for a coffee.” “Robb, I'm still married. I want to, but I'm not sure it's a good idea.” “I understand, it makes sense, sorry. I guess I wasn't thinking straight.” “Robb, I would say yes otherwise. Really, I would.” - to be continued.. By R A Wallace for Literotica

"You have to finish it out. You have to report it, even if it's financially a terrible idea," says Matthew Wolfe.OK, it's that Atavistian time of the month so we're here to talk about Matthew Wolfe's “The Talented Mr. Bruseaux: He made his name in Chicago investigating racial violence, solving crimes, and exposing corruption. But American's first Black private detective was hiding secrets of his own.” Go to magazone.atavist.com to read it.So we'll be hearing from Matt in due time. It's not Matt's first story with the Atavist and we talk a little about his first story with the Atavist as well.Matt is a journalist and I believe he wrapped up a PhD in sociology. He's got a book coming out next year. We'll be sure to tout that when the time comes.Batting leadoff here is none other than lead editor Jonah Ogles. Jonah and I talk about the ideal writer to work with and get into how he edited Matt's pieceMatt's first Atavist story was “The Ghosts of Pickering Trail.” His work has appeared in the New York Times, the New York Times Magazine, National Geographic, The Atlantic, Harper's, Pop-Up Magazine, the New Republic … hold on ... maybe I should just read the publications he hasn't written for. Oh, wait, there are none. Shit. You can find more about Matt at matthewwolfe.net.Matt likes to lean on TV and screenplays as a means to developing stories. He uses the Dan Harmon Story Circle to help with structure, and I'll link up to that in the show notes. We talk about not being mercenary about stories and leaning into the ones that won't let go, and one of the more bizarre recommendations you'll ever hear.Order The Front RunnerNewsletter: Rage Against the AlgorithmWelcome to Pitch ClubShow notes: brendanomeara.com

scuse me can I go to the bathroom

This week the boys can barely get to the news cause they're too busy hating each others music taste, mourning legends and calling babies ugly! Get on your shit horse and Get Wrecked!

A failing marriage, a caring man, and a new life. by  r a wallace. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Chapter 1: Intervention - Wendy Meets Robb. Wendy I sat sullen, depressed, on the park bench in the early evening watching a man playing catch with a boy, probably his son. I was fingering the pistol inside my shoulder bag, my finger on the trigger. I closed my eyes to start the silent count one…two… Wham! I was startled, my fingers closed reflexively in response, including the finger on the trigger. I heard a loud bang inside my shoulder bag. I looked down and saw the bullet hole just above the brown leather bottom. I pulled my hand out of the bag and found it was trembling, my heart pounding in my ears.“Oh, I'm so sorry. I hope you weren't hit?” I looked up to see the man standing in front of me, his image hazy as tears formed in my eyes again. I couldn't even end my life without screwing it up. I heard his voice again, but not his words. I sat my bag on the bench next to me and looked up when he spoke again, his face showing concern. “No, it didn't hit me,” I replied dumbly. “You don't look so good, your eyes are red as if you've been crying. Is there anything I can do to help, do you want to talk?” “Uncle Robb, Dad's here to pick me up. Thanks for playing catch with me for a while,” came a voice from behind me. I watched as he tossed the baseball in the general direction of the voice. “Any time Ted, tell your father I'll talk with him later.” I watched as the boy ran past us, got into a car, waved, and was gone. Numbed by it all, nothing in my mind made sense, it seemed I wasn't worth anything to anyone. “Mind if I sit with you?” “Look, I appreciate your kindness, but I'm not likely to be good company. I just found my husband with another woman. Not that I haven't suspected it for a while, but I thought our trial separation was working out. I just need to be alone.” “You weren't thinking of doing something stupid were you?” I looked at him, then my eyes went to the round hole in my bag. Stupid? It was a way out. My own husband hadn't slept with me in six months and he was getting off on another woman. Stupid? There was a reason I wasn't wearing my wedding ring. I didn't want to be found dead wearing something the bastard had given me. Robb I'd tried to catch the ball, jumping up to snag it when it sailed above my head. I had hit it just enough to send it toward the attractive woman sitting on the bench not far away. I thought I heard it hit the bench, not her, but a muffled sound seemed to have made her jump, and I felt an apology was in order. When I stopped in front of her I saw the teary eyes, at first thinking it had hit her. Then I noticed her eyes were puffy red, she'd been crying for a while. Her dark curly hair hung below her shoulders, her brown eyes placed below nicely trimmed eyebrows. She was dressed in a skirt and blouse, her exposed legs shapely, like the rest of her. She was obviously distressed, then I saw a small hole in her cloth shoulder bag as her eyes shifted to look at it. The slightly ragged hole seemed entirely out of place at that location. It was then I knew, the sound I'd heard wasn't the baseball hitting the bench–this woman needed help now. Wendy He sat down next to me even though I hadn't replied. Shit, did it matter? Another few minutes in my miserable life wasn't going to change anything. I hadn't even been able to kill myself and I realized I was pointing the pistol at the wrong person if I did. I knew I could never kill anyone, apparently not even myself. Then it popped into my head. If I were to do something now to get back at my husband I'd do what he had done to me. I would throw it in his face, telling him it was better than anything he had ever given me in all the years we'd been together. He hadn't been physically abusive to me, the fact he wouldn't touch me was painful enough; far worse in a way. What better way to get back at him by than by making him look like a man I now merely tolerated? That I had accepted his lack of performance, that I had loved him enough to accept it, but now I wouldn't. At first, I thought his lack of interest was due to the extra pounds I had put on made me unattractive to him. I lost the pounds, and it made no difference. Though the men at work made it evident they had noticed. I'd turned down several offers, thinking I would be true to our marriage vows–I wasn't that kind of woman. Now, maybe I needed to be. I would show him in a way he couldn't ignore. Brought back to the moment, I heard the man speak again, his hand on my shoulder as I looked at him with a blank expression. “Look, I'm not comfortable leaving you here alone by yourself. Too many things can happen to a woman in this park late in the day. Hell, even I'm leery of staying here too late. How about I take you for a coffee and you can tell me what you need.” I looked at him, “What I need is a good hard fuck. Can you do that?” I watched his face show a shocked expression. He didn't reply and I felt it just proved perhaps my husband was right– I wasn't even good for that anymore. I felt a sense of despair and desperation–I had been good for that at one time in my life. “Well, can you?” I pressed. “Yes, if you promise not to do anything more stupid than that,” looking at my bag. “You mean like take the pistol in my bag and shoot myself?” I replied facetiously. “That's what I had in mind, yes. I'll fuck you silly if you give me the gun.” He was looking right into my eyes, he wasn't looking at my boobs, or my legs. His eyes showed a genuine concern, his expression sympathetic, caring. I knew what the look of lust was in a man's eyes because I had been there before–it wasn't present in his. I reached for my bag and handed it to him, “You take it out.” I watched while he peered into my bag, inserted his hand, and pulled the pistol out. He flipped the safety on, removed the clip, took the bullets out, then placed it back inside with the clip inserted. He handed the bag to me while I looked at him with an earnest expectant expression. “Okay, coffee and a hard fuck, agreed.” He took my hand and held it gently, then looked into my eyes, “How about coffee, and a good fuck at my place if I can't talk you out of it. By the way my name is Robb.” “Agreed, I'm Wendy.” I walked beside Robb towards a nice looking car, glancing down at his left hand, I found he wasn't wearing a wedding ring. Though I knew it really didn't mean a dam thing to man if he didn't want it to. I still had revenge on my mind, thinking why put a bullet into my brain when I could go home, and shoot my husband right in the nuts, ending his ability to have sex with another woman. That is, right after I told him I'd been screwed all night long with a huge cock and loved every minute of it. I smiled to myself, thinking of the horror I'd see on his face when the pistol moved from his face down to his crotch. He would probably shit his pants before I pulled the trigger. Then he would dance around in agony as I turned and walked away–his penis and balls splattered on the floor around him. Robb opened the door of his car for me and I slid in thinking I was an idiot for marrying my husband in the first place. Two goddamned years of my life wasted trying to be a good wife while he flirted with most of my friends. They thought it was cute for a while, but when he propositioned one of them their attitude changed. I should have seen it, but I was still too love struck to recognize it for what it was. He really wanted me, not them, he was trying to make me jealous was what I had told myself over and over. Then it dawned on me one day when he didn't come home for an entire night–he didn't want me and wasn't man enough tell me to my face. I felt the car come to a stop and realized I hadn't said a word to Robb the entire time. I looked at him feeling like I was the lowest scum of the earth, a woman brought so low to want a man she had never met to screw her like a whore, but not charge for it. I wanted revenge and this was one way to get it. He looked at me while he placed his hand on my arm. “I'm buying the coffee and anything you want to eat, you talk, and I'll listen.” “Okay, but then we go to your place and you fuck me.” “That was what we agreed on,” he replied without any indication he was judging me. Why should he judge? He was getting a piece of ass for the price of a coffee and a donut. I watched when he passed in front of the car and came to open the door for me. Shit, what did I have to lose? Nothing. Robb was more attractive than my husband and he didn't have a gut that hung over his belt. We walked into the small diner, and I followed him to a table next to the window and sat down across from him. The waitress walked up with a menu and started to hand them to us with a smile. “We won't need a menu thank you. Two coffees, I'll take mine black, with a Danish, and whatever the lady would like.” The expression on the waitress's face was something I could appreciate. This wasn't going to result in much of a return to her for the effort she was going to put in–it was kind of like me and my marriage. “I'll have the same thank you.” I watched while she walked away and I turned my gaze to Robb, surprised to see he was studying something other than the cleave showing in my blouse–he was looking at my face. “You're an attractive woman when you don't have tears in your eyes. I'll bet you have a beautiful smile.” I moved in my seat, and looked away, feeling my face go red. When I looked back I couldn't help but give him a small smile. “Wendy, you talk. I'll listen, that was our agreement, well that and the other thing.” “If you think I'll talk and change my mind about the other thing, I won't.” “Fair enough, I'll keep my promise.” Our coffees arrived and I found myself spilling my guts as if someone had spoken an incantation to open my soul. I only stopped when the waitress returned, refilled our cups, and then I went on. He listened, never saying a word, just nodding his acknowledgement a few times. “You know, I'd like to kill that asshole. He's made my life, me, feel worthless for almost a year. I haven't told anyone about it until now, not even my parents, though I think they know things haven't been going well.” “Parents usually know even if you don't tell them. Mine always seemed to know if the woman I was dating didn't fit me before I discovered it for myself.” His expression didn't suggest much of anything–it seemed a simple acknowledgement he had endured a few failed relationships. I studied his face as he took another sip of coffee, his brown eyes and hair looked attractive to me, even his day-old stubble made him look manly. He didn't have those cute dimples, or a strong jaw line like I'd read in romance novels. Still, he was handsome in an understated way. Perhaps it was his calm demeanor and confidence that made him appealing. He called for the check and I watched as the waitress placed it in front of him. He looked at it as I read the amount of the bill, looking at it upside down. Reaching for the wallet in his back pocket he pulled out a ten and a five. The waitress returned a minute later, picking up the receipt and money, not smiling. “I'll be back with your change.” “Keep the change, you've earned it.” The last look I had of her showed a broad smile. The tip exceeded the amount of the bill by more than five dollars. He stood, waited for me to stand, then followed me out to the car and opened the door for me, closing it after I was inside. I pulled the sun visor down and looked in the mirror–at least my eyes weren't puffy and I was glad I hadn't used mascara, only eyeliner, though I hardly looked radiant. I looked at the clock on the dashboard, I'd talked for over two hours, and it was past seven, almost eight. “Ready to go home now?” he asked evenly. I knew my husband would be gone, it was a Saturday night, and he hadn't spent one with me in so long I couldn't remember the last time he had. It was one of the things I thought would change when we agreed to separate–that he would take me out like we were dating. We lived in the same house, I worked days, he worked the afternoon shift. It had been stressful, but we had made it work–sort of. “You mean to my house?” “Yes, I thought perhaps you might have changed your mind. Just checking to make sure.” I looked into his eyes. “I haven't. Take me home and do what we agreed to do.” Chapter 2: A Promise Delivered Robb I listened while she talked, letting her life unfold in front of me. She relaxed after a while, and the details she revealed told me she was a decent person. She had been raised a Catholic, left her faith to marry her husband, who was a Baptist, and found afterward his idea of marriage didn't quite jive with her own. It was more than a shock when she learned he was seeing one of their close friends from their congregation while she was at work–spending most of his day with her two, or three times a week. He had essentially left her by herself, not offering affection, or love even after she begged him to act as a husband. Yes, I felt pity for her, but pity somehow seemed less than what she really deserved. Frankly, more than once, I thought her husband was screwed up in the head. Her husband wanted her to be entirely obedient to his demands, and when she resisted even a little, decided she was not a worthy wife. Christian my ass, he was sinning while his wife sought to be loyal to him. She had concluded at the end of our talk she was glad she had remained on birth control despite his wanting her to become pregnant. She was honest about it with him, saying they should make sure they were financially secure before starting a family. He hadn't minded her birth control before they were married despite his religious teaching, but he had changed his tune afterward. His parents had asked her frequently if she were expecting, adding additional stress. I was eager to do something for her, but I was torn given the circumstances. If I didn't have sex with her what was the take away for her? I was sure it would only add to her miserable emotional state–if a stranger was unwilling to take her to bed her husband must be right. She would leave and find a bridge to jump off of. I had committed to having sex with her and she hadn't changed her mind. She was a very attractive woman, in that respect, I found the prospect acceptable. It was what would happen afterward that concerned me most. I had made the promise and I would keep it to best of my ability. I felt like an idiot for thinking letting her talk would change things. I knew I would have to be convincing when the time came–I had to be all in, or it was unlikely to work. Wendy It was a twenty minute drive to his apartment and when we started walking to the door I didn't feel anything other than excitement. He had treated me with dignity and respect the entire evening and never once was there a hint he considered me flawed, and unworthy of his attention. When he unlocked the door of his apartment I took a deep breath, it was time. Despite the fact I'd never done anything like this before, I was ready. We walked inside and when the lights came on I found myself in a nicely furnished apartment. It was mostly clean, with attractive colors, pictures on the walls. It was better than my own home in one respect, there wasn't a single religious saying, or picture– the Lord Jesus was not at hand here. I heard the door close and latch behind me with a click, then the padlock go home–I was alone with him and no one knew of my whereabouts. If this were a den of inequity, it felt right to me. I had come here for a specific reason and despite my slight apprehension, I wanted it to happen. I was wondering how hesitant he was going to be based upon his checking to see if I had changed my mind. I didn't have a chance to turn all the way around to face him when my feet left the floor, and I was in his arms. I gave a small shriek of surprise, then saw his face turn to look at me while my ass hung down; he held my legs at the knees with one arm, my back with the other. “Here on the floor, or in bed?” My mind raced. Oh shit, this is going to happen, oh shit. “I… I… don't… bed, on the bed.” We walked into the dark hallway and turned into a bedroom as I held onto him. The room was dim, a nightlight casting light onto the bed from the bathroom. My heart was beating so damn hard it felt like a beating bass drum was in my chest, pounding in my ears, my face felt flushed. He lay me down on the bed, then moved onto it next to me. “Robb… I…” His lips came hard onto mine and my response was swift and sure as I returned it with all I had. I sent my hand out to his back and pulled him to me as we wrestled together in a frenzied tangle. I broke our kiss, took a breath, and pushed onto him again. My body felt hot, as if it were being baked slowly, some parts warming faster than others. I ran my fingers through his hair and rolled on top of him, pressing my pelvis hard against his leg. We kissed, I rubbed hard, then harder, my pussy responding with soft, warm, pleasure. I pulled away and half sat up, cursing to myself–too much coffee. Damn, this was no time to have to take a pee. “Robb, I need to use the bathroom, I'm sorry, but I can't wait.”' “I'm not going to run away,” he said. I couldn't help but smile. Damn, he wanted to fuck me so badly he could hardly stand it. The thought thrilled me,–I was sure I could see it in his expression. Who was I kidding? I wanted it more. I don't know what I was thinking as I washed my hands after pulling my panties back up under my skirt. I was thinking I had ruined the moment. I had botched shooting myself, and now this. I was wrong as he pulled me down onto the bed and started to unbutton my blouse, his lips came to my chest, then moved to my neck. My arousal quickly shot through the roof as my hands went down to his crotch to find him firm and erect–it had been so long. I was breathing heavily as he pulled me up to a sitting position, removing my blouse and bra in what seemed mere seconds. His lips and tongue came to one breast, while the fingers of his other hand squeezed my nipple making my pussy ache. His passion consumed me, he wasn't like an animal clawing at me, but he was aggressive, confident, and knew what to do. His hand pulled my skirt up, the heel of his hand pressing firmly onto at the top of my slit, his fingers massaging my folds. I gasped and closed my eyes as the pleasure grew from each hard caress through my panties–I spread my legs wider and writhed with the stimulation I was feeling. I wanted more, that was my only thought as our lips met again, his lips sweet, moist, placed upon mine–it was as if they were specially made to be there. His kisses added to my arousal as my hands hungrily sought to touch him. It was as if a map of his body were imprinted in my mind–my hands found the buttons of his shirt, then the button of his pants. He sat up and I almost ripped the shirt off him, then reached down to yank his pants down and away. My hand dove into his briefs where I felt the firm, warm flesh of his erect member in my hand–the sensation added to my frenzy. I heard him growl into my ear as he brought his head next to mine, pushing me down onto the bed pinning me with his arms, his legs between mine, his hardness impossible to ignore. “I hope you're ready as I can't wait.” The words I needed thrilled me. I was a prize, lusted after,– his animal desires unmasked, directed only to me. Now, it was my lust combined with his and I wanted it to be hot, torrid. I looked into his eyes. “Do it,” as I reached down, grasping the tip of his cock. I ran his tip up and down over my slick slit, then placed it at my opening. I had my eyes open and watched as I felt him push inside me a few inches. On the exterior I must have looked somewhat calm, but inside I was on fire. His entrance was incredible–I was so damn sensitive. I grabbed his hips and pulled him toward me. “Damn it, do it,” I ordered forcefully. That was the last thing I had to say as he took me hard, then softer, than hard again until the ache in my pussy flared white hot as I closed my eyes and pushed my head back onto the mattress. I clawed at his shoulders with my fingertips as I held my breath, my orgasm strong, but short. I let my breath out not knowing if he had climaxed with me or not. My gaze had gone to the digital clock as I closed my eyes when we started–only four minutes had passed since he had pushed into me. I expected a pause, thinking he would be completely spent, unable to continue for a while. I waited for him to pull out knowing he had kept his promise. I sought to keep him as long as I could, placing my hands on his lower back, pushing myself against him repeatedly to keep him inside. To my surprise he moved his mouth to my ear. “You were quick, do you want more?” “More,” I whispered not believing it was even possible, though thrilled he found me sensual enough to take me again. “Then get on top, you want a hard fuck, then show me what you mean.” His words emboldened me, we disengaged, and he went onto his back. I moved into position over him. I was so sloppy wet he went into me in a single push without my having to place him with my hand. This time, I pushed my lips onto his, kissing him as I as I rested with my arms on his chest, hardly moving my pelvis, pressing down firmly so my clit felt good. Then the urge to move grew and I couldn't resist. I shifted my position and started rocking my pelvis over his hard cock with abandon. I was like a wild woman as I slid him over and within me, hitting my clit with the shaft of his dick, gasping as I took him to my full satisfaction. I was getting close and lay down fully on top of him, hands on his shoulders, moving only my pelvis until I felt him grow large inside me. Within seconds a huge orgasm took me that made my first one look puny by comparison. I slowed down, heard him groan, his hands came to my buttocks, pulling me onto him as he drove deep and held still. I felt his first strong pulses and felt them fade away as his hands came to caress my buns. After a minute, I slowly moved off and gave him a smile. Damn, it felt good to sin this way. My husband had never been this kind to me, finishing most times before I had even come close. I didn't know what to expect now. Was I good enough for more? Was he? Would he take me home? He took me into his arms and as we lay there caressing each other I closed my eyes. I didn't want to think about my husband, about what I had almost decided to do before I met Robb. I had been laid as I wanted. I was still living and my problems hadn't gone away. Regardless, I felt damn good for the first time in almost a year and he had proven I was a woman worth craving. I watched as Robb got up and walked into the bathroom, emerging a few seconds later with towels in his hand. He handed one to me, wrapped one over his crotch, slide back into bed, and reached for me after I put my towel in place. “Wendy, what do you want to do? It's almost twelve.” “Are you sorry you agreed to this?” I asked in a whisper. “Kiss me.” I sat up and looked at him. “You just screwed me two times, and you want me to kiss you?” “Yes, but for the record, you screwed me the second time.” For the first time in a long time I laughed–a real laugh. I felt so damned good. I had fucked Robb good and hard giving both of us pleasure. Who the hell was my piss-ant husband to tell me I wasn't a woman worth keeping? I had just proven I was to a man I had met hours ago. I leaned down and gave him a passionate kiss worthy of an award. I sat back up and looked at him with a stupid grin. “Well?” “It's a long walk to where you live, it's late, and I don't want to drive.” “Which means?” “You're not a stupid woman and anyone who treats you as if you are isn't worth having in your life.” “I don't have anything to wear?” He looked at me. “So far, that doesn't seem to be a big problem.” I realized the absurdity of my words and started to laugh. The hint of anxiety I had been feeling evaporated when his hand came to caress my breast, then grasped my shoulder pulling me down to lay on him.“ "You aren't afraid I'll do something stupid are you?” “No. You have a pistol without any bullets. So, if you want another stupid, hard fuck to make things better and not think of another way to harm yourself I'll give it to you.” - to be continued.. By R A Wallace for Literotica

Ce matin, vendredi 8 août avec Vincent et Jean-Michel On reçoit Etienne Ouellet de Noovo Info. Il parle de la rentrée scolaire. Discussion sur la transmission entre générations Est-ce qu’on a déjà volé des trucs ?

A failing marriage, a caring man, and a new life. by  r a wallace. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Chapter 1: Intervention - Wendy Meets Robb. Wendy I sat sullen, depressed, on the park bench in the early evening watching a man playing catch with a boy, probably his son. I was fingering the pistol inside my shoulder bag, my finger on the trigger. I closed my eyes to start the silent count one…two… Wham! I was startled, my fingers closed reflexively in response, including the finger on the trigger. I heard a loud bang inside my shoulder bag. I looked down and saw the bullet hole just above the brown leather bottom. I pulled my hand out of the bag and found it was trembling, my heart pounding in my ears.“Oh, I'm so sorry. I hope you weren't hit?” I looked up to see the man standing in front of me, his image hazy as tears formed in my eyes again. I couldn't even end my life without screwing it up. I heard his voice again, but not his words. I sat my bag on the bench next to me and looked up when he spoke again, his face showing concern. “No, it didn't hit me,” I replied dumbly. “You don't look so good, your eyes are red as if you've been crying. Is there anything I can do to help, do you want to talk?” “Uncle Robb, Dad's here to pick me up. Thanks for playing catch with me for a while,” came a voice from behind me. I watched as he tossed the baseball in the general direction of the voice. “Any time Ted, tell your father I'll talk with him later.” I watched as the boy ran past us, got into a car, waved, and was gone. Numbed by it all, nothing in my mind made sense, it seemed I wasn't worth anything to anyone. “Mind if I sit with you?” “Look, I appreciate your kindness, but I'm not likely to be good company. I just found my husband with another woman. Not that I haven't suspected it for a while, but I thought our trial separation was working out. I just need to be alone.” “You weren't thinking of doing something stupid were you?” I looked at him, then my eyes went to the round hole in my bag. Stupid? It was a way out. My own husband hadn't slept with me in six months and he was getting off on another woman. Stupid? There was a reason I wasn't wearing my wedding ring. I didn't want to be found dead wearing something the bastard had given me. Robb I'd tried to catch the ball, jumping up to snag it when it sailed above my head. I had hit it just enough to send it toward the attractive woman sitting on the bench not far away. I thought I heard it hit the bench, not her, but a muffled sound seemed to have made her jump, and I felt an apology was in order. When I stopped in front of her I saw the teary eyes, at first thinking it had hit her. Then I noticed her eyes were puffy red, she'd been crying for a while. Her dark curly hair hung below her shoulders, her brown eyes placed below nicely trimmed eyebrows. She was dressed in a skirt and blouse, her exposed legs shapely, like the rest of her. She was obviously distressed, then I saw a small hole in her cloth shoulder bag as her eyes shifted to look at it. The slightly ragged hole seemed entirely out of place at that location. It was then I knew, the sound I'd heard wasn't the baseball hitting the bench–this woman needed help now. Wendy He sat down next to me even though I hadn't replied. Shit, did it matter? Another few minutes in my miserable life wasn't going to change anything. I hadn't even been able to kill myself and I realized I was pointing the pistol at the wrong person if I did. I knew I could never kill anyone, apparently not even myself. Then it popped into my head. If I were to do something now to get back at my husband I'd do what he had done to me. I would throw it in his face, telling him it was better than anything he had ever given me in all the years we'd been together. He hadn't been physically abusive to me, the fact he wouldn't touch me was painful enough; far worse in a way. What better way to get back at him by than by making him look like a man I now merely tolerated? That I had accepted his lack of performance, that I had loved him enough to accept it, but now I wouldn't. At first, I thought his lack of interest was due to the extra pounds I had put on made me unattractive to him. I lost the pounds, and it made no difference. Though the men at work made it evident they had noticed. I'd turned down several offers, thinking I would be true to our marriage vows–I wasn't that kind of woman. Now, maybe I needed to be. I would show him in a way he couldn't ignore. Brought back to the moment, I heard the man speak again, his hand on my shoulder as I looked at him with a blank expression. “Look, I'm not comfortable leaving you here alone by yourself. Too many things can happen to a woman in this park late in the day. Hell, even I'm leery of staying here too late. How about I take you for a coffee and you can tell me what you need.” I looked at him, “What I need is a good hard fuck. Can you do that?” I watched his face show a shocked expression. He didn't reply and I felt it just proved perhaps my husband was right– I wasn't even good for that anymore. I felt a sense of despair and desperation–I had been good for that at one time in my life. “Well, can you?” I pressed. “Yes, if you promise not to do anything more stupid than that,” looking at my bag. “You mean like take the pistol in my bag and shoot myself?” I replied facetiously. “That's what I had in mind, yes. I'll fuck you silly if you give me the gun.” He was looking right into my eyes, he wasn't looking at my boobs, or my legs. His eyes showed a genuine concern, his expression sympathetic, caring. I knew what the look of lust was in a man's eyes because I had been there before–it wasn't present in his. I reached for my bag and handed it to him, “You take it out.” I watched while he peered into my bag, inserted his hand, and pulled the pistol out. He flipped the safety on, removed the clip, took the bullets out, then placed it back inside with the clip inserted. He handed the bag to me while I looked at him with an earnest expectant expression. “Okay, coffee and a hard fuck, agreed.” He took my hand and held it gently, then looked into my eyes, “How about coffee, and a good fuck at my place if I can't talk you out of it. By the way my name is Robb.” “Agreed, I'm Wendy.” I walked beside Robb towards a nice looking car, glancing down at his left hand, I found he wasn't wearing a wedding ring. Though I knew it really didn't mean a dam thing to man if he didn't want it to. I still had revenge on my mind, thinking why put a bullet into my brain when I could go home, and shoot my husband right in the nuts, ending his ability to have sex with another woman. That is, right after I told him I'd been screwed all night long with a huge cock and loved every minute of it. I smiled to myself, thinking of the horror I'd see on his face when the pistol moved from his face down to his crotch. He would probably shit his pants before I pulled the trigger. Then he would dance around in agony as I turned and walked away–his penis and balls splattered on the floor around him. Robb opened the door of his car for me and I slid in thinking I was an idiot for marrying my husband in the first place. Two goddamned years of my life wasted trying to be a good wife while he flirted with most of my friends. They thought it was cute for a while, but when he propositioned one of them their attitude changed. I should have seen it, but I was still too love struck to recognize it for what it was. He really wanted me, not them, he was trying to make me jealous was what I had told myself over and over. Then it dawned on me one day when he didn't come home for an entire night–he didn't want me and wasn't man enough tell me to my face. I felt the car come to a stop and realized I hadn't said a word to Robb the entire time. I looked at him feeling like I was the lowest scum of the earth, a woman brought so low to want a man she had never met to screw her like a whore, but not charge for it. I wanted revenge and this was one way to get it. He looked at me while he placed his hand on my arm. “I'm buying the coffee and anything you want to eat, you talk, and I'll listen.” “Okay, but then we go to your place and you fuck me.” “That was what we agreed on,” he replied without any indication he was judging me. Why should he judge? He was getting a piece of ass for the price of a coffee and a donut. I watched when he passed in front of the car and came to open the door for me. Shit, what did I have to lose? Nothing. Robb was more attractive than my husband and he didn't have a gut that hung over his belt. We walked into the small diner, and I followed him to a table next to the window and sat down across from him. The waitress walked up with a menu and started to hand them to us with a smile. “We won't need a menu thank you. Two coffees, I'll take mine black, with a Danish, and whatever the lady would like.” The expression on the waitress's face was something I could appreciate. This wasn't going to result in much of a return to her for the effort she was going to put in–it was kind of like me and my marriage. “I'll have the same thank you.” I watched while she walked away and I turned my gaze to Robb, surprised to see he was studying something other than the cleave showing in my blouse–he was looking at my face. “You're an attractive woman when you don't have tears in your eyes. I'll bet you have a beautiful smile.” I moved in my seat, and looked away, feeling my face go red. When I looked back I couldn't help but give him a small smile. “Wendy, you talk. I'll listen, that was our agreement, well that and the other thing.” “If you think I'll talk and change my mind about the other thing, I won't.” “Fair enough, I'll keep my promise.” Our coffees arrived and I found myself spilling my guts as if someone had spoken an incantation to open my soul. I only stopped when the waitress returned, refilled our cups, and then I went on. He listened, never saying a word, just nodding his acknowledgement a few times. “You know, I'd like to kill that asshole. He's made my life, me, feel worthless for almost a year. I haven't told anyone about it until now, not even my parents, though I think they know things haven't been going well.” “Parents usually know even if you don't tell them. Mine always seemed to know if the woman I was dating didn't fit me before I discovered it for myself.” His expression didn't suggest much of anything–it seemed a simple acknowledgement he had endured a few failed relationships. I studied his face as he took another sip of coffee, his brown eyes and hair looked attractive to me, even his day-old stubble made him look manly. He didn't have those cute dimples, or a strong jaw line like I'd read in romance novels. Still, he was handsome in an understated way. Perhaps it was his calm demeanor and confidence that made him appealing. He called for the check and I watched as the waitress placed it in front of him. He looked at it as I read the amount of the bill, looking at it upside down. Reaching for the wallet in his back pocket he pulled out a ten and a five. The waitress returned a minute later, picking up the receipt and money, not smiling. “I'll be back with your change.” “Keep the change, you've earned it.” The last look I had of her showed a broad smile. The tip exceeded the amount of the bill by more than five dollars. He stood, waited for me to stand, then followed me out to the car and opened the door for me, closing it after I was inside. I pulled the sun visor down and looked in the mirror–at least my eyes weren't puffy and I was glad I hadn't used mascara, only eyeliner, though I hardly looked radiant. I looked at the clock on the dashboard, I'd talked for over two hours, and it was past seven, almost eight. “Ready to go home now?” he asked evenly. I knew my husband would be gone, it was a Saturday night, and he hadn't spent one with me in so long I couldn't remember the last time he had. It was one of the things I thought would change when we agreed to separate–that he would take me out like we were dating. We lived in the same house, I worked days, he worked the afternoon shift. It had been stressful, but we had made it work–sort of. “You mean to my house?” “Yes, I thought perhaps you might have changed your mind. Just checking to make sure.” I looked into his eyes. “I haven't. Take me home and do what we agreed to do.” Chapter 2: A Promise Delivered Robb I listened while she talked, letting her life unfold in front of me. She relaxed after a while, and the details she revealed told me she was a decent person. She had been raised a Catholic, left her faith to marry her husband, who was a Baptist, and found afterward his idea of marriage didn't quite jive with her own. It was more than a shock when she learned he was seeing one of their close friends from their congregation while she was at work–spending most of his day with her two, or three times a week. He had essentially left her by herself, not offering affection, or love even after she begged him to act as a husband. Yes, I felt pity for her, but pity somehow seemed less than what she really deserved. Frankly, more than once, I thought her husband was screwed up in the head. Her husband wanted her to be entirely obedient to his demands, and when she resisted even a little, decided she was not a worthy wife. Christian my ass, he was sinning while his wife sought to be loyal to him. She had concluded at the end of our talk she was glad she had remained on birth control despite his wanting her to become pregnant. She was honest about it with him, saying they should make sure they were financially secure before starting a family. He hadn't minded her birth control before they were married despite his religious teaching, but he had changed his tune afterward. His parents had asked her frequently if she were expecting, adding additional stress. I was eager to do something for her, but I was torn given the circumstances. If I didn't have sex with her what was the take away for her? I was sure it would only add to her miserable emotional state–if a stranger was unwilling to take her to bed her husband must be right. She would leave and find a bridge to jump off of. I had committed to having sex with her and she hadn't changed her mind. She was a very attractive woman, in that respect, I found the prospect acceptable. It was what would happen afterward that concerned me most. I had made the promise and I would keep it to best of my ability. I felt like an idiot for thinking letting her talk would change things. I knew I would have to be convincing when the time came–I had to be all in, or it was unlikely to work. Wendy It was a twenty minute drive to his apartment and when we started walking to the door I didn't feel anything other than excitement. He had treated me with dignity and respect the entire evening and never once was there a hint he considered me flawed, and unworthy of his attention. When he unlocked the door of his apartment I took a deep breath, it was time. Despite the fact I'd never done anything like this before, I was ready. We walked inside and when the lights came on I found myself in a nicely furnished apartment. It was mostly clean, with attractive colors, pictures on the walls. It was better than my own home in one respect, there wasn't a single religious saying, or picture– the Lord Jesus was not at hand here. I heard the door close and latch behind me with a click, then the padlock go home–I was alone with him and no one knew of my whereabouts. If this were a den of inequity, it felt right to me. I had come here for a specific reason and despite my slight apprehension, I wanted it to happen. I was wondering how hesitant he was going to be based upon his checking to see if I had changed my mind. I didn't have a chance to turn all the way around to face him when my feet left the floor, and I was in his arms. I gave a small shriek of surprise, then saw his face turn to look at me while my ass hung down; he held my legs at the knees with one arm, my back with the other. “Here on the floor, or in bed?” My mind raced. Oh shit, this is going to happen, oh shit. “I… I… don't… bed, on the bed.” We walked into the dark hallway and turned into a bedroom as I held onto him. The room was dim, a nightlight casting light onto the bed from the bathroom. My heart was beating so damn hard it felt like a beating bass drum was in my chest, pounding in my ears, my face felt flushed. He lay me down on the bed, then moved onto it next to me. “Robb… I…” His lips came hard onto mine and my response was swift and sure as I returned it with all I had. I sent my hand out to his back and pulled him to me as we wrestled together in a frenzied tangle. I broke our kiss, took a breath, and pushed onto him again. My body felt hot, as if it were being baked slowly, some parts warming faster than others. I ran my fingers through his hair and rolled on top of him, pressing my pelvis hard against his leg. We kissed, I rubbed hard, then harder, my pussy responding with soft, warm, pleasure. I pulled away and half sat up, cursing to myself–too much coffee. Damn, this was no time to have to take a pee. “Robb, I need to use the bathroom, I'm sorry, but I can't wait.”' “I'm not going to run away,” he said. I couldn't help but smile. Damn, he wanted to fuck me so badly he could hardly stand it. The thought thrilled me,–I was sure I could see it in his expression. Who was I kidding? I wanted it more. I don't know what I was thinking as I washed my hands after pulling my panties back up under my skirt. I was thinking I had ruined the moment. I had botched shooting myself, and now this. I was wrong as he pulled me down onto the bed and started to unbutton my blouse, his lips came to my chest, then moved to my neck. My arousal quickly shot through the roof as my hands went down to his crotch to find him firm and erect–it had been so long. I was breathing heavily as he pulled me up to a sitting position, removing my blouse and bra in what seemed mere seconds. His lips and tongue came to one breast, while the fingers of his other hand squeezed my nipple making my pussy ache. His passion consumed me, he wasn't like an animal clawing at me, but he was aggressive, confident, and knew what to do. His hand pulled my skirt up, the heel of his hand pressing firmly onto at the top of my slit, his fingers massaging my folds. I gasped and closed my eyes as the pleasure grew from each hard caress through my panties–I spread my legs wider and writhed with the stimulation I was feeling. I wanted more, that was my only thought as our lips met again, his lips sweet, moist, placed upon mine–it was as if they were specially made to be there. His kisses added to my arousal as my hands hungrily sought to touch him. It was as if a map of his body were imprinted in my mind–my hands found the buttons of his shirt, then the button of his pants. He sat up and I almost ripped the shirt off him, then reached down to yank his pants down and away. My hand dove into his briefs where I felt the firm, warm flesh of his erect member in my hand–the sensation added to my frenzy. I heard him growl into my ear as he brought his head next to mine, pushing me down onto the bed pinning me with his arms, his legs between mine, his hardness impossible to ignore. “I hope you're ready as I can't wait.” The words I needed thrilled me. I was a prize, lusted after,– his animal desires unmasked, directed only to me. Now, it was my lust combined with his and I wanted it to be hot, torrid. I looked into his eyes. “Do it,” as I reached down, grasping the tip of his cock. I ran his tip up and down over my slick slit, then placed it at my opening. I had my eyes open and watched as I felt him push inside me a few inches. On the exterior I must have looked somewhat calm, but inside I was on fire. His entrance was incredible–I was so damn sensitive. I grabbed his hips and pulled him toward me. “Damn it, do it,” I ordered forcefully. That was the last thing I had to say as he took me hard, then softer, than hard again until the ache in my pussy flared white hot as I closed my eyes and pushed my head back onto the mattress. I clawed at his shoulders with my fingertips as I held my breath, my orgasm strong, but short. I let my breath out not knowing if he had climaxed with me or not. My gaze had gone to the digital clock as I closed my eyes when we started–only four minutes had passed since he had pushed into me. I expected a pause, thinking he would be completely spent, unable to continue for a while. I waited for him to pull out knowing he had kept his promise. I sought to keep him as long as I could, placing my hands on his lower back, pushing myself against him repeatedly to keep him inside. To my surprise he moved his mouth to my ear. “You were quick, do you want more?” “More,” I whispered not believing it was even possible, though thrilled he found me sensual enough to take me again. “Then get on top, you want a hard fuck, then show me what you mean.” His words emboldened me, we disengaged, and he went onto his back. I moved into position over him. I was so sloppy wet he went into me in a single push without my having to place him with my hand. This time, I pushed my lips onto his, kissing him as I as I rested with my arms on his chest, hardly moving my pelvis, pressing down firmly so my clit felt good. Then the urge to move grew and I couldn't resist. I shifted my position and started rocking my pelvis over his hard cock with abandon. I was like a wild woman as I slid him over and within me, hitting my clit with the shaft of his dick, gasping as I took him to my full satisfaction. I was getting close and lay down fully on top of him, hands on his shoulders, moving only my pelvis until I felt him grow large inside me. Within seconds a huge orgasm took me that made my first one look puny by comparison. I slowed down, heard him groan, his hands came to my buttocks, pulling me onto him as he drove deep and held still. I felt his first strong pulses and felt them fade away as his hands came to caress my buns. After a minute, I slowly moved off and gave him a smile. Damn, it felt good to sin this way. My husband had never been this kind to me, finishing most times before I had even come close. I didn't know what to expect now. Was I good enough for more? Was he? Would he take me home? He took me into his arms and as we lay there caressing each other I closed my eyes. I didn't want to think about my husband, about what I had almost decided to do before I met Robb. I had been laid as I wanted. I was still living and my problems hadn't gone away. Regardless, I felt damn good for the first time in almost a year and he had proven I was a woman worth craving. I watched as Robb got up and walked into the bathroom, emerging a few seconds later with towels in his hand. He handed one to me, wrapped one over his crotch, slide back into bed, and reached for me after I put my towel in place. “Wendy, what do you want to do? It's almost twelve.” “Are you sorry you agreed to this?” I asked in a whisper. “Kiss me.” I sat up and looked at him. “You just screwed me two times, and you want me to kiss you?” “Yes, but for the record, you screwed me the second time.” For the first time in a long time I laughed–a real laugh. I felt so damned good. I had fucked Robb good and hard giving both of us pleasure. Who the hell was my piss-ant husband to tell me I wasn't a woman worth keeping? I had just proven I was to a man I had met hours ago. I leaned down and gave him a passionate kiss worthy of an award. I sat back up and looked at him with a stupid grin. “Well?” “It's a long walk to where you live, it's late, and I don't want to drive.” “Which means?” “You're not a stupid woman and anyone who treats you as if you are isn't worth having in your life.” “I don't have anything to wear?” He looked at me. “So far, that doesn't seem to be a big problem.” I realized the absurdity of my words and started to laugh. The hint of anxiety I had been feeling evaporated when his hand came to caress my breast, then grasped my shoulder pulling me down to lay on him.“ "You aren't afraid I'll do something stupid are you?” “No. You have a pistol without any bullets. So, if you want another stupid, hard fuck to make things better and not think of another way to harm yourself I'll give it to you.” - to be continued.. By R A Wallace for Literotica

Patti joins Rich Marla and Mark just shooting the shit about Patti hanging at a Titty bar in Denver and a lot moe Enjoy From 2010 Enjoy Richie

Today On The Show - 00.00.00 - Pet Shit-uations 00.12.45 - Thank Fact It's Friday 00.17.39 - Greatest Week Of Audio 00.24.13 - Bikes In Butts 00.39.33 - Bryce's Problem With Drive Thrus 00.50.33 - Brad The Boos - Week One Voting 00.56.10 - Creeches Corner 00.60.30 - Is Bryce Here Monday? 00.66.12 - Best Bits Of The Week

Today on the show - 00.00.00 - Sharyns Art Classes 00.10.31 - Where On Earth Was The Birth 00.18.48 - Rog's Gym Schedule 00.23.19 - Rog Stuck In Train Station 00.47.27 - Great Audio Rog 00.52.38 - Dan Hookers 1 Minute To Fights 00.58.41 - Shit-uation STROKIN'

Russ, Andy, and Jimmy from Overpass Clothing (our brilliant sponsor!) are back at the mics for another jam-packed episode of The Scarf Bergara Wore – the ultimate Stockport County fans podcast.This week we're chatting all things County, including:

If you're looking for a sports show that breaks down plays, brings you in depth analysis and jaw dropping stats, then this isn't the Podcast for you.Nothing better than seeing England get rolled! A big week of sports as we lead into the BBB Cup tonight! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Today on the show - 00.00.00 - Most Painful 00.17.33 - Sharyn Sucks At Painting 00.29.02 - Shit-u-ation 00.38.12 - Grubby Sports Acts 00.49.12 - Our Numerology Readings 00.63.16 - Donovan Frankenwreiter Coming To NZ

 Dave's Journey Back To Nature: Part 5The Energetic Naturists, in a lockdown.Based on posts by Big galoot, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.The naturist photoshoot was much more fun than I anticipated. It gave license to delightful ‘touchiness'. As we were catching our breaths and chatting James was looking through his shots, "I think I have some great ones. What next Muriel?" He was definitely getting into his stride."I think David should chase me but I'm old and will be easy to catch, I think he should chase me with Annie on his back."I wasn't expecting that and nor was Annie but she was the first to respond, "sounds like fun."I knelt down and Annie climbed onto my back, her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck, as I stood she held on tightly, pressing herself into me, her short legs spreading further until I could feel her mound rubbing against my lower back, and her boobs squished into me. She wiggled up and down a bit, rubbing herself against me."Comfortable?" I asked"Oh yes." She answered a little huskily."Before we start running I think you should get some still shots, come here and stand behind Annie." Muriel said.James did this and then Muriel told him to kneel down. I heard him gasp and then he started clicking away."You dirty bitch! I'm completely exposed, he can see everything from down there." Annie said laughing.She obviously wasn't too worried because she arched her back and stuck her ass out, exposing even more to the camera, all the time whispering in my ear, "I'm so wet, I think I'm dripping.""I think they're the most incredible shots I've taken.""Stick with me kid, with my dirty mind and your camera skills we'll make a great double act."As we were laughing at this Annie was still whispering in my ear and rubbing herself off against me."Oh James, you have to get a close up of this, I've never seen Dave's tallywhacker looking so big, what do you think Muriel?" Suzi asked, smirking and making it obvious she knew what was going on.Muriel played right along, saying, "definitely the biggest it's ever been." As she encircled it with her thumb and forefinger, making sure James got shots emphasizing the fact they didn't meet. They were right, I was ready to burst, but work to do first.Muriel ran slowly with James behind her, stopping and bending as if out of breath, insisting he took pictures of her exposed holes, "they're for my private collection."We could have caught her easily, but Annie whispered for me to go slow as she was enjoying it. She was beginning to feel heavy, but as her breathing changed, and she started to wiggle faster I forgot about the weight. Her mouth was next to my ear and a cascade of oh and ah; followed by "fuck, fuck, fuck I'm cumming."She was letting everyone within five hundred yards know she'd orgasmed, and she nearly deafened me.As she settled I went to put her down but Muriel had other ideas, "you haven't caught me yet." So off we went again, Annie no longer whispering as she said, "take it slowly, my nips are sensitive and my clit's on fire."To Annie's relief, Muriel let us catch her easily but insisted on mounting from the front for our hug. She managed to clamber up and sat astride me, teasing my upright pole with her twat, allowing James to click away merrily as she did so. I stood a bit with both women wrapping their bodies around me, their tits and cunts grinding in. This should have been erotic for me, but I was concentrating on bracing my body against the weight. It was only when Muriel and Annie started kissing over my shoulder and then both nibbling at my ear that my legs turned to jelly.Muriel was in her element "I think we should all have some more wine before our next shots or maybe some water, better still wine and water." While the rest of us recovered on the grass, Suzi and Jenna went to get the refreshments. "Bring the baby oil back with you." Muriel shouted after them."How are the photos coming?" I asked James"Incredible, I can't believe some of the shot's I've got, very hot and erotic.""Was it weird taking those sort of pictures of your sister.""Yes and no, as I got into it I forgot she was my sister, it was only after she came that I felt a bit embarrassed.""Not ones for the family photo album then?""I wouldn't put it past her."When they returned with the refreshments I made a beeline for Suzi, feeling a wee bit guilty."Enjoying yourself?" She asked, a little narkily"Not really, it's just what I do for art." I claimed, in a highbrow tone."Bull shit!""Alright, I'm feeling fucking great. What have you been doing whilst I've been frolicking?""I've been sucking off the camera man." Suzi teased me."Bull shit, he'd be all out of focus."We laughed and I kissed her, my horniness kicking back in immediately."Whoa, Neddy." Suzi suppressed me."Neddy?""That's what Annie calls her horse.""Bitch."Suzi sat there with an 'I got you' smirk on her face."Actually, I did frig myself when Annie was coming in your ear.""Did You?""Yeah, three fingers.""Dirty little hussy."Muriel stood up and started speaking, "are we all ready for some more fun, frolics and photographs?""For this next session, Suzi is going to wrestle Jenna.""What? No way, she'll kill me, she does origami or typhootea or something." Suzi said laughing"That's what the baby oil is for, you'll be greasy like in Greek wrestling, she won't be able to grab you. Anyway, I'm sure Jenna will take it easy, won't you Jenna?""Of course." Jenna said, smiling wickedly."James are you ready? I'll oil Jenna up, and Annie can oil Suzi. That might make for some good shots. David you sit there with your hands by your side, no fiddling.""Can't promise."This could be interesting, I wasn't sure how Suzi would be with Annie, but she smiled and they were nattering away as Annie lathered Suzi's back. As her hands moved down I was getting intrigued. Annie smothered her bum cheeks, rubbing the oil in with both hands, I could see Suzi was enjoying it.As her hands got closer to the center Suzi leant forward a little, parting her cheeks and giving Annie better access. Annie applied more oil and was running her fingers slowly up and down Suzi's cleft. I could swear I heard a little yelp and saw Suzi's hips jerk forward. Was her finger in Suzi's ass? I wanted to get closer but didn't want to seem obvious. Annie moved so that her hand was wedged between the two of them, Suzi was definitely pushing back onto her, she was finger fucking her ass, dirty, sexy bitches.My attention was distracted by a yelp. Looking over to Muriel and Jenna I could see that Muriel was using a different technique. She seemed covered in oil and was rubbing herself up against Jenna with James only two feet away, clicking away like mad. Jenna must have seen me looking over, because she provided an explanation for the yelp, "this dirty cow bit my nipple, I hope she does it again."She duly did.Annie was now in front of Suzi, liberally oiling from her cunny up to her shoulders and back again, little flicks of her nips each time she passed bringing groans of pleasure from Suzi."Right ladies and gentlemen the Greek wrestling is about to start, take your seats please."Muriel's announcement brought the oiling to an end, Suzi looked disappointed. Annie whispered something to her and they both giggled and then Suzi nodded.James came over and Annie went into fake trainer mode, slapping Suzi's muscles as she got her ready for battle.Muriel appointed herself referee and marked out a ring. We stood about ten feet back to give James room to work. Annie stood in front of me and inched back a little so that her bum was just touching my dangling tallywhacker , it naturally jerked, bringing a throaty laugh from Annie."Behave yourself." I gently chided, keeping my hands by my side and trying to concentrate on the wrestling. Really I wanted to sink my hands into her tits and my cock into her hole.The two girls were circling, sussing each other out. It looked like the real thing. Suddenly Suzi lunged forward and grabbed Jenna by the hair, pulling her head down hard. I wouldn't have been brave enough to do that. Jenna managed to get upright and pulled Suzi in close, I was expecting the worse. Her right hand went between Suzi's legs and she seemed to lift her into the air by the cunt. I wanted to shout to the ref but nothing came out. In what seemed like slow motion she gently laid her on the ground before diving on top of her, their oily bodies squelching off of each other.As I was watching the wrestling, Annie was getting bolder. She was gently twerking against my hardening cock and as it stood upright and pressed into her back her hands came behind her and started jerking me. I made sounds of protest but she shushed me and said, "enjoy it, I have permission.""What?""Shush, enjoy the wrestling."As I was enjoying the wrestling, James was directing them and it was almost in slow motion, they would slip and slide into a position and when he was happy they would tighten their muscles, the oil making the striations stand out, I'm sure the photos would be amazing. Every so often Suzi would be bold and do something off script, just to get a reaction from Jenna. I think she was enjoying Jenna being rough with her.Annie turned around to face me, placing both hands around my cock and jerking harder."I can't see now, you'll have to describe what's going on."I was describing the action as she started to lower herself down."What are you doing?""Shush, I have permission, keep talking.""Suzi's on top, pinning Jenna down, James is telling her to move up so her nipple is in Jenna's mouth, oh my god."Annie had put my cock between her gorgeous tits and was titty fucking me, Suzi's or Muriel's weren't big enough and it felt amazing, I could come very easily."Jenna has spun Suzi around and has Suzi's head clamped between her thighs, Suzi knelt up, face down, bum towards Jenna. She telling Suzi to 'eat me bitch'. With her right hand she is finger fucking Suzi and with her left hand she's slapping her ass. Ah"Annie has taken me into her mouth and is shoving her head down, gagging but pushing on."Jenna has sat up a little, she pulls Suzi's taut cheeks apart, showing everything to the camera which is only a foot away, Suzi is tapping the grass, I think she giving up, Ah I think I'm coming."Annie stood up, my jizz dribbling out her mouth as she gave me the widest smile of the day. I walked over to Suzi who was cuddling Jenna and Muriel, her face bright red from being clamped between Jenna's thighs.She smiles, "that was hot.""Yes it was." The Nudist Camp During LockdownHow we survived, thrived and frolicked."Shit, shit, shit." We looked at Muriel as she shouted; the anxieties and uncertainties of the previous few weeks finally boiling over. The three of us were sat in Muriel's cabin, watching the TV news, transfixed, like the rest of the nation, by the unfolding Covid disaster. As we had expected, the government, after weeks of flipping and flopping, had finally announced a lockdown, all but essential businesses to close and nobody to travel unless absolutely necessary."I know I should be more concerned with all the poor souls who are getting sick or dying but I just can't believe our bad luck. After years of this place literally falling apart around me we're finally back on our feet and now we have to close." You could see Muriel's anger turning to despair, tears beginning to well up as Suzi pulled her close and comforted her.I was half watching them and half listening to the news, "They say the government is going to put in a raft of measures to support businesses and workers affected." As I conveyed this message I could see Muriel wasn't convinced, "The support will probably be based on previous year's earnings, which in our case there wasn't any." She had a point but I was trying to stay upbeat and optimistic. "Why don't we wait till all the details are out and we'll see what support we're entitled to and I'm sure between the three of us we can come up with some ideas of something we can do." They both nodded and I went and fetched a bottle of wine from the kitchen, thinking there was no point just sitting around moping."Here's to staying healthy and to keeping this place afloat." As I raised a toast, Muriel smiled for the first time in days, hugging us both and thanking us for being there with her.The next few days were a blur, lots of phone calls cancelling bookings, us trying to find out what the new rules really meant in reality and above all the seemingly inexorable rise in the number of Covid cases and unfortunately Covid deaths.I think we were all in shock, worried about our families who we could no longer visit and worried about the nudist camp, which was our home, and whether it could survive.We busied ourselves, Muriel and Suzi dealing with customers and members, many of whom were long term friends of Muriel and thankfully weren't asking for their yearly fees back, not yet anyway. I concentrated on finding out what supports might be available and on the day to day maintenance that still needed to be done.Muriel was right, she wasn't entitled to any payments but what was good news was that many business taxes and rates were either cancelled or put on hold. Also, although Suzi and I had never really been paid much, getting our food and lodgings plus a couple of bob whenever we needed it; as employees we were entitled to furlough payments, which meant that we were entitled to 80% of our monthly wage, paid by the government.We had never really hassled Muriel over money, happy to have enough to get by on and seeing working and living at the camp as more of an enjoyable, erotic adventure than a job. We were aware that Muriel had us down as full time employees, for insurance and tax reasons. I was looking forward to having some fun and winding Muriel up a bit."So apparently you can claim 80% of our wages from the government, how much do we get paid a month?" I asked Muriel as we were all sat around having breakfast.In the months and months we'd spent with Muriel, through some of the wildest, happiest, naked sexual shenanigans imaginable, I had never seen Muriel lost for words or look embarrassed, but now she was.We let her stew for a short while before Suzi couldn't keep a straight face anymore, bursting out laughing and hugging Muriel before saying. "We knew you were cooking the books a bit to help keep this place stay afloat, we didn't mind. Now it might be beneficial."Smiling sheepishly she said "You earn £1100 a month each, I claimed a lot of it back for food and lodgings, I think

On this week pod( I know I'm late again. Shit happens), we're talking Pokemon direct, Battlefield 6 trailer, Microsoft walking back 80 buck games , and more.

Welcome to "Sort Your Shit Out With Smith".  As well as our regular longer form Wednesday episodes, we now release extra shorter content on Mondays. Listen out for Master Your Mind with Mayhew next Monday. This episode is your wake-up call. Smith dives into the habits, environments, and excuses that are keeping too many men stuck in mediocrity - and how to break free. If you've ever felt like you're built for more but surrounded by people who don't get it (or worse, actively hold you back), this one will hit home. If you want to get in touch, please drop the lads a line : hello@agameconsultancy.com   Adam Smith From depressed and suicidal to the happiest and fittest he's ever been, Adam Smith's self-development journey hasn't been easy but it has been worth it. Today, he's a qualified mindset coach in neuro-linguistic programming (NLP) and a certified Time Line Therapist®. Adam has coached many high performers, using NLP to rewire his clients' thoughts and behaviours so they can destroy limiting beliefs and engineer the change needed to excel. Connect with Adam Smith: https://www.linkedin.com/in/adam-smith-high-performance-coach/ Adam Mayhew Adam Mayhew swapped burnout and binge drinking for ultra marathons, CrossFit and sobriety. A registered nutritional therapist specialising in performance nutrition, Adam supports everyone from office workers to athletes to build healthy eating habits. Using science (and never fad diets, quick fixes or gym bro culture) he helps clients target their problem areas and confidently master diet, training and lifestyle. Connect with Adam Mayhew: https://www.linkedin.com/in/adam-mayhew-nutrition-coaching/ To find out more about Smith & Mayhew: https://agameconsultancy.com/about/

My guru recently sent me an email that expanded on his earlier teaching about suffering. In his first message, he explained how most suffering comes from only a few things—what he called THE SHIT—and how modern life makes these easy to handle. That teaching ended with the idea that Nirvana, the state of peace the Buddha described, is already here for anyone willing to step into it.But this time, he added something new: Nirvana is peaceful, but it's also boring.Most people think Nirvana is the final destination, the perfect state where everything is right. And it is perfect—calm, restful, pleasant. But my guru explained that it is also unchanging. There is no drama, no friction, no challenges. You can rest in Nirvana, but you can't grow there. Growth, he said, comes only through stress and challenge. Without it, you stagnate. Too much comfort dulls you. Too much suffering breaks you. The secret is to move between the two.He gave me an analogy from sports. Athletes grow not just by pushing hard but also by resting. Rest is part of the workout. The effort strains the muscle. The rest rebuilds it stronger. Life works the same way. You need challenges to grow and peace to recover. The skill is knowing when to lean into suffering and when to step back into peace.My guru also explained why people get stuck. Some chase suffering endlessly, thinking that struggle is the only way to live. They burn out. Others cling to comfort, avoiding all pain, and they stop developing. The art of life is to know when to switch—when to rest in Nirvana and when to step back into the world's stress.He also wrote about how steering your life takes focus. He compared it to walking a path. If you want to get somewhere, you have to keep telling yourself where you're going. You can't drift aimlessly. You have to set intentions, take the next step, then the next. Without focus, life pulls you in random directions. Getting back on track is possible, but it takes time and patience. Being deliberate can feel boring, but it's the only way to end up where you want.At the same time, he admitted that unpredictability has its place. Sometimes it's fun to let life surprise you. There's joy in discovery. But if you're tired of chaos and want a specific outcome, you have to take the wheel. You have to guide yourself step by step.The heart of his message was this: Nirvana is not meant to be a permanent escape. It's home base. It's where you recover, reflect, and recharge. Then, when you're ready, you step back into life, face challenges, and allow a little suffering to help you grow. When that suffering stops serving you, you return to Nirvana to rest.This rhythm—peace, challenge, peace again—is like breathing. Too much of one or the other throws you off balance. The point is not to avoid suffering or cling to peace, but to use both wisely. Each has its purpose. Peace restores you. Suffering strengthens you. Together, they make life rich and meaningful.My guru's final words stuck with me: Life isn't about staying in Nirvana forever. It's about knowing when to go there and when to leave. Peace gives you rest. Suffering gives you strength. Moving between the two is what makes you whole.

My guru sent me an email that I can't stop thinking about. It was simple, almost blunt, but it explained why most of the suffering we experience today is unnecessary. It wasn't a long teaching or a sacred text—just a reminder of how easy peace can be if we understand what's really going on.Buddhism, he wrote, is one of the oldest spiritual paths in the world. It started with the Buddha, a man who saw that life is full of suffering but also that suffering can end. His message was simple: suffering happens when we cling to pain and fight against life. Peace comes when we stop clinging and learn to let go.My guru broke it down even more. He said there are only a handful of things that truly cause suffering. In fact, he said you can fit them into one easy-to-remember list called THE SHIT:Thirst. Hunger. Exposure to the elements. Sickness. Horniness. Injury. Tiredness.And then there's one more: Your Brain.For most of human history, these things were everywhere. People suffered from thirst because they didn't have clean water. Hunger was constant. Exposure to the cold or heat could kill you. Sickness and injury were deadly because there were no doctors or medicine. Life was hard and short.But my guru reminded me that for most people in the modern world, these problems don't have to control us anymore. Clean water is at the turn of a tap. Food is easy to find. Most people have roofs over their heads, clothes to wear, and access to medicine when they're sick. Even horniness, injury, and tiredness are things we can handle. Modern life has removed most of the pain that haunted our ancestors.Thirst? Drink.Hunger? Eat.Exposure? Go inside.Sickness? Take care of your body, see a doctor.Horniness? Take care of it or let it pass.Injury? Be careful.Tiredness? Sleep in your safe bed.If all that is true, why do we still suffer so much? Because of the last one: Your Brain.The brain is ancient. It evolved to keep us alive when the world was full of threats. It constantly looks for danger, imagines problems, and creates fear to keep you alert. That was useful when tigers lurked in the bushes. Today, it's mostly noise. The brain still invents suffering even when you're safe. It whispers lies about what's wrong and what's missing, dragging you away from peace.The Buddha taught that suffering comes from attachment—clinging to thoughts and feelings as if they are permanent truths. My guru said that most of the time, our brains feed us suffering because we don't question it. We believe the fear. We believe the story. We forget that we're already safe, already okay, already living better than almost anyone who came before us.The truth is, for many of us, life is already as close to paradise as humanity has ever known. You're alive, reading this, likely in comfort, with clean water and food nearby. This is already what the Buddha called Nirvana—freedom from suffering. The only reason it doesn't feel like it is because we let our brains drag us back into fear and want.My guru said that Nirvana isn't some faraway place or something only for monks. It's here, now, waiting for you to notice it. It's what you feel when you take care of your body and stop believing the false stories your brain spins. It's not complicated, but it takes seeing things clearly.Sadly, most people don't want to give up their suffering. They cling to it because it feels familiar, because it gives them something to hold. They say they want peace but keep choosing pain. That's their choice.But you don't have to. You can handle THE SHIT—thirst, hunger, exposure, sickness, horniness, injury, tiredness—because our world makes that easy. Then you can start to tame the brain, the last and biggest source of suffering.When you stop letting your brain lie to you, suffering fades. You realize peace was always here. Nirvana is not something you earn—it's something you see. It's been waiting all along.

This week, Raoni reminds all of you about all the reasons why you should be subscribed to the Bossy Power Bottom Gay-Treon, including some exciting new updates and perks for you!The Gayest Patreon in existence just got bigger, better, and so much gayer than ever before!Follow The Raoni Washburn Show on:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠TikTok ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Threads⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠YouTube⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠all @exposingmygay,Please subscribe to the "⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Bossy Power Bottom Gay-Treon (Patreon)⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠" and get all things Bossy Power Bottom Productions' bonus content from over four shows! Don't forget to go to ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠raoniwashburn.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ for any information you need on the show or Bossy Power Bottom Productions. While on the show website, look at the⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Bossy Power Bottom Catalog⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ and pick out your next piece for your upcoming gay or pride-related event. Do you have something you want Raoni to hear? Call in on the official Bossy Power Bottom hotline at 415 501 0401 and leave a message. Any other inquiries are received at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠mygayexpose@gmail.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ !

Always pushing the edge of the envelope, we give you a Shit Quiz and a REALLY Shit Quiz just to prove how good our first shit quiz has become. Rik's dis-track assault continues, and we answer Thisener questions. Jam packed, overly long (I don't know why for some reason, okay maybe it was the really shit quiz)Find our Patreon page HERE.Join the How 'Bout This Discord server to be part of the conversation.Spark Podcast Network.Executive Produced by Jason Geary, Karl McConnell and Rik Brown.Produced and Edited by Jason Geary.Music by THE Robbie Ellis. Check him out on Spotify here.  ★ Support this podcast on Patreon ★

I've been trapped in the house like a vampire, so I don't have much to talk about. Which is why I did a tiny episode about my cats. You're welcome.***Email: autisticang38@gmail.comAutistic Logic Mini Course: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://angela-walker-s-school.teachable.com/p/why-this-feels-right-the-hidden-logic-behind-your-choices⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Adult Autism 101: angela-walker-s-school.teachable.com/p/adultautism101Public Journal series: amazon.com/author/autisticangSubstack: autisticang38.substack.comInstagram: instagram.com/autisticang38LinkedIn: linkedin.com/in/autistic-ang-87494030aQuora: adulthoodwithachanceofautism.quora.comReddit: reddit.com/r/autisticang38Threads: threads.net/@autisticang38Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/autisticang38.bsky.social

whoops first half of episode didnt get recorded. Grim and James are joined by Jerry Cthulhu, ThatGuy, Nickie the Dude, RSHarmful, Pirateshipping, Endless, Anubis, CallmeIan, and Suzanne! Enjoy the chat!!! Email me for the Guilded chatroom link! Check out our anime review show Shonen Dump www.shonendump.com James Cruz Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/cruz_controllin Grimsteak Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/grimcrt Grimsteak Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@grimsteak Send us hatemail or love mail at grimsteak@gmail.com Live Show Every Tuesday at 9pm est on CwS Radio https://s3.radio.co/s230f698de/listen Check out Jerry's show "Nox Mente' at https://noxmente.simplecast.com/

Burn the Old Playbook, ttill leading like it's 1994? You're the problem.Sherilyn Shackell built a global movement to fix leadership from the inside out. She's here to call out ego, expose the rot, and torch the outdated crap that's still infecting your company culture.This isn't inspiration. It's demolition.Sherilyn Shackell, founder of The Marketing Academy, joins Dave and Debbie for a blisteringly honest episode about what leadership actually looks like in 2025 and why most of what we've been taught is a flaming pile of outdated nonsense.She's lived the burnout, dodged the bullshit, and built one of the most respected leadership academies in the world by doing the exact opposite of what corporate culture preaches.Why listen to this episode From generational shifts to AI to emotional intelligence to calling out “successful” leaders who are just skilled narcissists this is the leadership detox your brain didn't know it needed.You're tired of pretending Maslow still appliesYou've been taught to lead through fear, and it's not workingYou're leading a team that doesn't care about status, titles, or your 16-hour grindsetYou know leadership training is broken but you don't know what should replace itYou're ready to be a good human first and a great leader second-----------------------------------------------------------Mic drop moments “We were led badly. And badly led people go on to lead people badly.”The cycle continues unless you break it.“Maslow is 70 years old. Stop building orgs like it's post-war America.”If your culture runs on frameworks older than color TV, you deserve the attrition rate.“Burnout is not a badge. It's a red flag.”Congrats on running yourself into the ground. Nobody's clapping.“People don't need managers. They need someone worth following.”If you're managing more than you're modeling, step aside.“AI won't break the world. Shit leaders using AI will.”It's not the tool. It's the hands holding it.“Intentionality isn't saying the right thing. It's being the right thing even when no one's watching.”Your culture is built by what you tolerate, not what you tweet.“The second you get power, you speak through a megaphone. Be careful what comes out.”You're louder than you think. Act like it.“Don't be a dick. And always help someone else succeed.”Leadership. Decoded in 12 words or less.

This is the Summer 2025 Rundown, where we discuss these 4 shows!1) Dandadan Season 22) Kaiju No. 8 Season 2 3) Gachiakuta Season 14) One Piece: Egghead ArcTo join the Discord, follow us on our socials (we're on Threads / Insta, Twitter (X), Bluesky / Hive and Tumblr): https://Linktree.com/animedegensInterested in watch parties? We're going to start hosting some in our Discord! So join up and join us! The Degen Videos are on YouTube & Spotify now! So, Make sure you follow and like the videos over there at https://Linktree.com/animedegensPlease Rate us on your listening platforms and don't forget to tell your anime friends about us! its the best way to support us and we really do appreciate y'all! Thanks for listening!!If you have any Feedback that you'd like to share or have Topics that you'd like for us to discuss on the Degen Episode, Please reach out to us on any of our Socials, Discord or click here! Interested in being a guest? Reach out to Tyler on Discord or Twitter / Threads!Time Stamps:Intro - 00:00Dandadan S2 Ep 4 - 06:32Kaiju No 8 S2 Ep 2 - 33:40Gachiakuta Ep 3 - 51:18One Piece Ep1137 - 1:10:15 Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Episode 25 is all about one of wrestling's most legendary factions — The Four Horsemen. Keith and Shawn each bring their own Horsemen-related hot take to the table! Shit-Take #1 (Shawn): "In 1988, Barry Windham should have taken over leadership of the Four Horsemen from Ric Flair." This take suggests that after turning heel and joining the Horsemen, Barry Windham was ready to step into the leadership role and allow Ric Flair to move into a different space within the faction. The argument centers on Windham's in-ring presence, athletic prime, and potential to lead the group into its next chapter while maintaining its elite status. Shit-Take #2 (Keith): "Curt Hennig's heel turn on the Horsemen in 1997 was a bigger deal than Hulk Hogan joining the NWO." This take ranks Hennig's betrayal of the Horsemen at Fall Brawl ‘97 above Hogan's heel turn at Bash at the Beach ‘96 in terms of shock value and emotional impact. It positions the moment as the true symbolic end of the Horsemen era and a devastating blow to traditionalist fans, arguing that it carried more weight within the context of wrestling history than Hogan's shift to the NWO.  

Kevin Smith and Ralph Garman perform live at Good Night John Boy during San Diego Comic-Con 2025 on July 25, 2025!

Gimme the clicker! I wanna watch YourHometv.com! Ah crap. All they're playing is this stupid podcast. It looks like it's hosted by 2 total morons. Heh. They're ugly as well. And they seem depressed but not in an interesting way? Shit hold on they're gonna discuss Kickstarter…that feels fresh. Let's see what they got. Well it's 45 mins in and they haven't said anything about the Kickstarters. They're mostly talking about doctors appointments and TV remotes. Well I checked the guide and apparently they're gonna eventually get to bible memes, 1000 bad jokes, and a real sicko's attempt to grift a luxury car. Evidently there's an actual good idea at the end. But I'm not waiting over 2 hours just to hear that. I gotta go play with my bath toys.Music for YKS is courtesy of Howell Dawdy, Craig Dickman, Mr. Baloney, and Mark Brendle. Additional research by Zeke Golvin. YKS is edited by Producer Dan. Social Media by Maddalena Alvarez.Executive Producer Tim Faust (@crulge)YKS Beach Party is over…but there's plenty more where that came from! Not parties, I guess. But episodes. Of YKS! Premium! But it's only at YKS Premium…sign up today and get access to what simply must be thousands of hours of bonus content…all for just $5 a month! Follow us on Instagram: @YKSPod, TikTok: YourKickstarterSucks and subscribe to our YouTube channel for more video stuff! Wow, 2025 is lit!! Gift subscriptions to YKS Premium are now available at Patreon.com/yourkickstartersucks/giftSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

In this episode of The Annoyed Adult Podcast, Howard Kam dives headfirst into the hormonal hot tub of teenage glow-ups, attention span genocide, and emotionally intelligent parenting (without turning into a Hallmark card). From a former fat kid turned Greek god trying to decode hot girl intentions, to students whose brains have been rewired by Minecraft parkour clips, to a dad trying to support his maybe-gay son without triggering an emotional SWAT response—this one's got it all. Buckle up. Shit's relatable.

Today we welcome Malcolm Harris back to the show.  Previously he talked with us about his mammoth study, Palo Alto: A History of California, Capitalism, and the World. This time we are looking not at a history of Capitalism and the World, but our possible futures under the threat of catastrophic climate change. We talk about not only failed policies, but failed perspectives on society, politics, and culture, and focus on a deadly form of Value that has led us to the abyss precisely because it has emanated from a basic rift between humans and the world. It is a rift that Capital has always both fed and exploited, but will end up exhausting a finite resource—the Planet. We talk about what is needed to heal this, and what we are up against. Malcolm Harris is a freelance writer and the author of Kids These Days, Shit is Fucked Up and Bullshit, and Palo Alto. His newest book is What's Left?: Three Paths Through the Planetary Crisis.

Please excuse the audio, Mercury rX got me. And this new moon last week almost took me out lol wow. Hope you enjoy the forecast this month is about to be wild! 5 PART EMERGENCY CLASSHOW TO CHANGE YOUR CIRCUMSTANCESAUGUST 4 - AUGUST 8⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠LEARN MORE ABOUT OAK & THEIR OFFERINGS⁠Private readings, teachings, classes, cleanse facilitation

The Godfather of Metal, the Prince of Darkness, a true legend has passed. This also triggered the last thing my father wanted me to do – and make a proper oldschool episode. Everything is in there, except I did not eat the shrooms as I couldn't open the lid.And in doing this, I realized that I have become Gonzo. And quite likely the only one around to do it the right way. Shit, I am competent now. That's why the old number system doesn't feel right anymore. This…this is a path of catharsis, memories, weirdest stories that my dad have, and some less weird – and quite a lot of other tangents. If you've only been listening throughout the war, this might not be for you, at least at the start – however, I welcome You aboard the crazy train anyways.Support this show http://supporter.acast.com/theeasternborder. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Meranda & Matt explore what it means to not have butt whiz. Eric joins from Australia to Spill his Shit! Introducing our new hot take segment that takes the log to the next level. Are you a stander or a sitter on the shitter?

Today, this is what's important: Weird style, theme parks, staying up late, baby music, outdoors, television, & more. Click here for more information about the This Is Important Cruise.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Episode 1756 - brought to you by our incredible sponsors: DaftKings - Download the DraftKings Casino app, sign up with code HARDFACTOR, and spin your favorite slots! The Crown is Yours - Gambling problem? Call one eight hundred GAMBLER Factor Meals - The Best Premade Meal Delivery Service on Earth - Get started at ⁠factormeals.com/hardfactor50off⁠ and use code hardfactor50off to get 50% off your first box plus free shipping. Inocogni - Take your personal data back with Incogni! Get 60% off an annual plan at ⁠⁠incogni.com/HARDFACTOR⁠⁠ and use code HARDFACTOR at checkout. Lucy - Let's level up your nicotine routine with Lucy.  Go to ⁠⁠Lucy.co/HARDFACTOR⁠⁠ and use promo code (HARDFACTOR) to get 20% off your first order. Lucy has a 30-day refund policy if you change your mind. Timestamps: (00:00:00) - Story lineup (00:01:10) - Chiefing the blunt (00:06:30) - Donald Trump is demanding the Washington Commanders change back their name to the Redskins (00:13:35) - Hunter Biden did a 3-hour  interview, and he HATES George Clooney  (00:23:15) - Microsoft will soon start injecting the Earth with human shit to cut back on Carbon emissions (00:28:50) - King Charles is a tyrant in his gardens and has caused almost all his gardeners to quit (00:33:55) The Swingathon is back and driving neighbors within earshot a lot of grief Thank you for listening!! Go to ⁠patreon.com/hardfactor⁠ to join our community. We love you, and most importantly HAGFD! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Kevin Smith and Ralph Garman perform live at Yaamava' Resort & Casino in Highland, CA on July 11, 2025. Check out The Ralph Report! https://theralphreport.com/

Loretta Breuning helps us understand biological human behaviourism in Episode 36✅ Humans are wired for hierarchies — not equality by default✅ Serotonin links status, mood, and cooperation✅ Early social experiences shape our long-term behavior✅ Challenging myths about early human societies matters✅ Emotions are biological strategies, not mysteries

The ladies discuss the Epstein client list, the Diddy verdict, Elon's third party, Grok being racist, Zohran's college application race debacle, and the return of choking discourse.