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3 episodes with smiled
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2 episodes with smiled
My Boss Asked Me to Rub Sunscreen on Her Back… Then Smiled Softly, “That's Not Where I Meant.
Some childhood memories fade with time. Others stay crystal clear.She was only four years old when someone she loved suddenly disappeared from her daily life. Too young to understand death, she accepted her mother's explanation that the visits had simply come to an end.Then one night she woke to find the woman standing peacefully at the foot of her bed, smiling at her before quietly walking away.Years later, she can still picture every detail of that encounter—and she's never been able to convince herself it was only a dream.#RealGhostStories #Paranormal #GuardianAngel #FinalGoodbye #VisitationDream #AfterDeathCommunication #GhostStory #SpiritualEncounter #LifeAfterDeath #TrueParanormal #LovedOnes #Supernatural #Unexplained #HeartwarmingGhostStory #SignsFromBeyondLove real ghost stories? Want even more?Become a supporter and unlock exclusive extras, ad-free episodes, and advanced access:
Don't You Dare Talk To Me Like That Again,” The Fat Woman Said…Then The Mafia Boss Smiled
Don't You Dare Talk To Me Like That Again,” The Fat Woman Said…Then The Mafia Boss Smiled
Some childhood memories fade with time. Others stay crystal clear.She was only four years old when someone she loved suddenly disappeared from her daily life. Too young to understand death, she accepted her mother's explanation that the visits had simply come to an end.Then one night she woke to find the woman standing peacefully at the foot of her bed, smiling at her before quietly walking away.Years later, she can still picture every detail of that encounter—and she's never been able to convince herself it was only a dream.#RealGhostStories #Paranormal #GuardianAngel #FinalGoodbye #VisitationDream #AfterDeathCommunication #GhostStory #SpiritualEncounter #LifeAfterDeath #TrueParanormal #LovedOnes #Supernatural #Unexplained #HeartwarmingGhostStory #SignsFromBeyondLove real ghost stories? Want even more?Become a supporter and unlock exclusive extras, ad-free episodes, and advanced access:
A very special 250th birthday celebration! Jon and Chris review selected songs from the history of recorded music. "America the Beautiful" as recorded by Ray Charles, 1972; lyrics by Katherine Lee Bates, 1893 O beautiful for pilgrim feet, Whose stern, impassioned stress A thoroughfare for freedom beat Across the wilderness! America! America! God mend thine every flaw, Confirm thy soul in self-control, Thy liberty in law! O beautiful for heroes proved In liberating strife, Who more than self their country loved And mercy more than life! America! America! May God thy gold refine, Till all success be nobleness, And every gain divine! O beautiful for patriot dream That sees beyond the years Thine alabaster cities gleam Undimmed by human tears! America! America! God shed His grace on thee And crown thy good with brotherhood From sea to shining sea! "The Power and the Glory" by Phil Ochs, 1964 Come on and take a walk with me through this green and growing land Walk through the meadows and the mountains and the sand Walk through the valleys and the rivers and the plains Walk through the sun and walk through the rain Here is a land full of power and glory Beauty that words cannot recall Oh, her power shall rest on the strength of her freedom Glory shall rest on us all From Colorado, Kansas, and the Carolinas too Virginia and Alaska, from the old to the new Texas and Ohio and the California shore Tell me, who could ask for more? Yet she's only as rich as the poorest of the poor Only as free as a padlocked prison door Only as strong as our love for this land Only as tall as we stand Here is a land full of power and glory Beauty that words cannot recall Oh, her power shall rest on the strength of her freedom Glory shall rest on us all, on us all "The Times They Are A Changin'" by Bob Dylan, 1963 Come gather 'round people Wherever you roam And admit that the waters Around you have grown And accept it that soon You'll be drenched to the bone If your time to you is worth savin'; Then you better start swimmin'; Or you'll sink like a stone For the times they are a-changin'; Come writers and critics Who prophesize with your pen And keep your eyes wide The chance won't come again And don't speak too soon For the wheel's still in spin And there's no tellin' who that it's namin'; For the loser now Will be later to win For the times they are a-changin'; Come senators, congressmen Please heed the call Don't stand in the doorway Don't block up the hall For he that gets hurt Will be he who has stalled The battle outside ragin'; Will soon shake your windows And rattle your walls For the times they are a-changin'; Come mothers and fathers Throughout the land And don't criticize What you can't understand Your sons and your daughters Are beyond your command Your old road is rapidly agin'; Please get out of the new one If you can't lend your hand For the times they are a-changin'; The line it is drawn The curse it is cast The slow one now Will later be fast As the present now Will later be past The order is rapidly fadin'; And the first one now Will later be last For the times they are a-changin' "War Isn't Murder" by Jesse Welles, 2024 War isn't murder Good men don't die Children don't starve And all women survive War isn't murder That's what they say When you're fighting the devil Murder's okay War isn't murder They're called casualties There ain't a veteran With a good night's sleep Let's talk about dead people I mean a dead people The dead don't feel honored They don't feel that brave They don't feel avenged They're lucky if they got graves Call your dead mother Ask her when she died It's a deathly silence on the other line The dead don't talk But their children don't forget So in 20 short years You could live to regret that War isn't murder There's money at stake Hell, even Kushner agrees It's good real estate War isn't murder Ask Netanyahu He's got a psalm for that And a bomb for you War isn't murder It's an old-desert faith It's a nation-state-sanctioned righteous hate Let's talk about dead people I mean a dead people War isn't murder It's the vengeance of God If you can't see the bodies They don't bloat when they rot And the flies don't swarm And the children don't cry If war isn't murder Good men don't die So in a short 20 years When you vacation the Strip Don't think about the dead And have a nice trip War isn't murder We should all give thanks I saw it all in a movie Give it up for Tom Hanks War isn't murder They don't ship out the poor And the bullets they fire Aren't part of the cure War isn't murder Land is a right But the banks called dibs It's something you can't fight Let's talk about dead people I mean a dead people The dead don't feel honor They don't feel that brave They don't feel avenged They're lucky if they got graves War isn't murder Ain't a river of blood Stretching all through time And raining down in a flood It's a dark sacrifice Made on your behalf So get down on your knees And thank the sweet lord that War isn't murder "Brother, Can You Spare a Dime," by E.Y. Harburg, 1932 They used to tell me I was building a dream And so I followed the mob When there was earth to plow or guns to bear I was always there, right on the job They used to tell me I was building a dream With peace and glory ahead Why should I be standing in line Just waiting for bread? Once I built a railroad, I made it run Made it race against time Once I built a railroad, now it's done Brother, can you spare a dime? Once I built a tower up to the sun Brick and rivet and lime Once I built a tower, now it's done Brother, can you spare a dime? Once in khaki suits, gee, we looked swell Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum Half a million boots went slogging through Hell And I was the kid with the drum Say, don't you remember? They called me Al; It was Al all the time Why don't you remember? I'm your pal Say buddy, can you spare a dime? Once in khaki suits, ah, gee, we looked swell Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum Half a million boots went slogging through Hell And I was the kid with the drum Oh, say, don't you remember? They called me Al; It was Al all the time Say, don't you remember? I'm your pal Buddy, can you spare a dime? "Strange Fruit" by Abel Meeropol [Lewis Allan], 1939 Southern trees bear strange fruit Blood on the leaves and blood at the root Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees Pastoral scene of the gallant south The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh Then the sudden smell of burning flesh Here's a fruit for the crows to pluck For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop Here's a strange and bitter crop "Mr President Have Pity on the Working Man" by Randy Newman, 1974 We've taken all you've given It's gettin' hard to make a livin' Mr. President, have pity on the working man We ain't asking you to love us You may place yourself high above us Mr. President, have pity on the working man I know it may sound funny But people ev'ry where are runnin' out of money We just can't make it by ourself It is cold and the wind is blowing We need something to keep us gong Mr. President, have pity on the working man Maybe you're cheatin' Maybe you're lyin' Maybe you have lost your mind Maybe you only think about yourself Too late to run, too late to cry now The time has come for us to say good-bye now Mr. President, have pity on the working man Mr. President, have pity on the working man "American Tune" by Paul Simon, 1973 Many's the time I've been mistaken And many times confused Yes, and I've often felt forsaken And certainly misused Oh, but I'm alright, I'm alright I'm just weary to my bones Still, you don't expect to be bright and bon vivant So far away from home, so far away from home And I don't know a soul who's not been battered I don't have a friend who feels at ease I don't know a dream that's not been shattered Or driven to its knees But it's alright, it's alright For we lived so well so long Still, when I think of the Road we're traveling on I wonder what's gone wrong I can't help it, I wonder what has gone wrong And I dreamed I was dying I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly And looking back down at me Smiled reassuringly And I dreamed I was flying And high up above my eyes could clearly see The Statue of Liberty Sailing away to sea And I dreamed I was flying We come on the ship they call The Mayflower We come on the ship that sailed the moon We come in the age's most uncertain hours And sing an American tune Oh, and it's alright, it's alright, it's alright You can't be forever blessed Still, tomorrow's going to be another working day And I'm trying to get some rest That's all I'm trying to get some rest "Lift Every Voice and Sing" by James Weldon Johnson and J. Rosemond Johnson, 1905 Lift every voice and sing Till earth and heaven ring, Ring with the harmonies of Liberty; Let our rejoicing rise High as the listening skies, Let it resound loud as the rolling sea. Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us, Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us, Facing the rising sun of our new day begun Let us march on till victory is won. Stony the road we trod, Bitter the chastening rod, Felt in the days when hope unborn had died; Yet with a steady beat, Have not our weary feet Come to the place for which our fathers sighed? We have come over a way that with tears has been watered, We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered, Out from the gloomy past, Till now we stand at last Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast. God of our weary years, God of our silent tears, Thou who has brought us thus far on the way; Thou who has by Thy might Led us into the light, Keep us forever in the path, we pray. Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee, Lest, our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee; Shadowed beneath Thy hand, May we forever stand. True to our God, True to our native land. "This Train," as recorded by Sister Rosetta Tharpe This train is a clean train, you know this train This train is a clean train, I said this train This train is a clean train, everybody ride it in Jesus' name Because this train is a clean train, Lord, this train This train has left the station, you know this train This train has left the station, I said this train This train has left the station, this train takes on every nation Because this train is a clean train, you know this train It's the prettiest train I ever have seen, Lord, this train It's the prettiest train I ever have seen, oh, this train It's the prettiest train I ever have seen Now, if you wanna ride it, you must get redeemed Because this train is a clean train, Lord, this train This train is bound for glory, woo, this train This train is bound for glory, I said this train This train is bound for glory, everybody ridin' her must be holy Because this train is a clean train, you know this train You know this train don't pull no jokers, uh-uh, this train This train don't pull no jokers, no, this train I said this train don't pull no jokers No tobacco chewers and no cigar smokers Because this train is a clean train, you know this train This train don't pull no wankers, uh-uh, this train This train don't pull no wankers, oh, this train This train don't pull no wankers, no crap shooter, no whiskey drinker Because this train is a clean train, this train
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Adam Montgomery walked into jury selection for his own murder trial smiling, tongue out. Then he refused to show up for most of the proceedings, choosing to stay in his cell. The jury convicted in under a day. The Supreme Court reversed the conviction. And now the Harmony Montgomery case is headed for a second murder trial where everything about this man's behavior will be on display again.The retrial raises questions the first trial never had to face on its own: whether Kayla Montgomery's uncorroborated testimony can carry a murder conviction, whether the defense theory that Kayla — not Adam — is responsible for Harmony's death will land with a fresh jury, and whether the cover-up evidence can still be used to argue consciousness of guilt when the Supreme Court said it only proves what happened after the killing.Criminal defense attorney Bob Motta (Defense Diaries) joins Tony Brueski to assess both sides of the retrial. How a defendant's courtroom demeanor registers with jurors. Whether the speed of the first conviction tells us the evidence was strong or the jury was contaminated. And what the prosecution must change to get a verdict that survives appeal. Tony Brueski and Bob Motta.Links:Join Our SubStack For AD-FREE ADVANCE EPISODES & EXTRAS!: https://hiddenkillers.substack.com/ Want to comment and watch this podcast as a video? Check out our YouTube Channel. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8-vxmbhTxxG10sO1izODJg?sub_confirmation=1 Instagram https://www.instagram.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hiddenkillerspod/ Tik-Tok https://www.tiktok.com/@hiddenkillerspod X Twitter https://x.com/TrueCrimePodDisclaimer:This publication contains commentary and opinion based on publicly available information. All individuals are presumed innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. Nothing published here should be taken as a statement of fact, health or legal advice.Hashtags:#HarmonyMontgomery #AdamMontgomery #TrueCrimeToday #TrueCrime #DefenseDiaries #BobMotta #MurderRetrial #KaylaMontgomery #JusticeForHarmony #TrueCrimePodcast
The ski cabin in Mammoth was supposed to be the highlight of every family vacation.But on one trip, moments after arriving, an eleven-year-old boy raced upstairs and came face-to-face with someone he never expected to find there.At first, it seemed like a simple misunderstanding. Maybe another guest. Maybe someone connected to the property. Except nothing about the encounter made sense once the family started asking questions.What followed became one of those stories that lingered for years—quietly waiting until an unexpected conversation raised even more questions than it answered.#RealGhostStories #HauntedCabin #GhostEncounter #MountainMystery #ParanormalExperience #TrueGhostStory #MammothCalifornia #FamilyGhostStory #UnexplainedEncounters #HauntedVacation Love real ghost stories? Want even more?Become a supporter and unlock exclusive extras, ad-free episodes, and advanced access:
Join Arya, Arjun, Sanjana, and Adit as they spend their summer holidays in their grandparent's beautiful village as they discover the joy of living mindfully and learn how little habits and small acts of care can help Mother Earth smile.
And the King Smiled is a story about the good and beautiful relationship between a father and his little daughter, mirroring the reciprocal relationship God longs to have with us. Join Kathy as she talks to author Sue Montgomery! ________________________________________________________________________________________________ Look for HOPE is Here: - at www.HOPEisHere.Today - on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/HOPEisHereToday - on Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/hopeisherelex/ - on X (Twitter) - https://www.x.com/hopeisherelex - on TikTok - https://www.tiktok.com/@hopeisherelex - on YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCtJ47I4w6atOHr7agGpOuvA Help us bring HOPE and encouragement to others: - by texting the word GIVE to 833-713-1591 - by visiting https://www.hopeisheretoday.org/donate #Lexington #Kentucky #christianradio #JesusRadio #Jesus #WJMM #GregHorn #GregJHorn #suicideprevention #KentuckyRadio #HOPEisHere #Hope #HopeinJesus #FoodForThoughtFriday #MondayMotivation #FridayFeeling #Motivation #Inspiration #cupofHope #FYP #ForYouPage #SuicideAwareness
If you go to a circus you'll probably see some clowns. Most clowns smile and laugh. This one did the opposite. He never smiled and...
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In this video, I break down why I didn't sell my position in Harrow Inc. (HROW) after the stock dropped 30% following earnings. I walk through how I think about stocks like a business owner, not a trader — and why the price is often just noise. We look at HROW's real fundamentals: revenue growth, free cash flow, margins, and debt. Then I show you exactly how I evaluate analyst models and DCF valuations, and why one number can change everything. I also share my full position, my risk management approach, and my exit plan. If you've ever panicked when a stock dropped, this one's for you. [Link to YouTube Video]Dapper Dividends Recommendation Tracker SpreadsheetCheck out my current portfolio on
PWTorch editor Wade Keller is joined by PWTorch's Kurt Cadet with an early special appearance by Sean from Tennessee. They first discuss the Austin Theory reveal and where it might be going, whether Theory has failed so far or WWE has failed him, and more thoughts on the decision. Then lots of talk about Gunther's gloating promo, the finish of John Cena vs. Gunther at SNME including whether Cena should have smiled afterward, and more about Cena's retirement. Then other topics from the show with live chat and caller interactions. Finally, an on-site report from Saturday Night's Main Event in D.C. with details on the crowd response and overall vibe in town that weekend.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/wade-keller-pro-wrestling-post-shows--3275545/support.
Join the Catalyst Mastermind ! If you've ever been told you're too much—too sensitive, too intense, too ambitious—this message is for you. Maybe you've left a room feeling like you should've shrunk yourself to fit in and played it safe. Smiled and nodded instead of speaking up. And somewhere along the way, you started to wonder if the problem was you. But hear me loud and clear: You are not the problem. You're not too much. You're just in the wrong rooms. Let's talk about the right ones—the rooms where your energy isn't drained, it's doubled, where your “unrealistic” dreams spark something in others. Where your passion is seen as purpose, and your depth doesn't make people uncomfortable—it makes them come alive. Because the right people? They don't ask you to tone it down. They look at you and say, “More of that, please.” So if you've ever second-guessed your voice, your ideas, or the way God wired you, lean in. This conversation might be the permission slip you've been waiting for. Because the right room doesn't just accept your fullness—it celebrates it. And, it's time you walked boldly into that space. Listen in to learn more: (02:42) - The Real Reason You Feel Like Too Much (06:03) - The Three Kinds of Wrong Rooms That Drain Your Confidence and Dim Your Light (07:28) - You Were Designed With Purpose (08:44) - What the Right Rooms Look Like (10:52) - Your Blueprint for Finding and Creating the Right Rooms WATCH ALLI ON YOUTUBE Links to great things we discussed: Alli's TV Recommendation - Only Murders in the Building I hope you loved this episode!
Some houses don't need shattered windows or rotting staircases to be haunted. Sometimes, the most ordinary walls hide the darkest secrets. This true paranormal story comes from Lincoln Park, where one seemingly normal suburban home—nicknamed “Buckingham Palace”—harbored a haunting that would leave its mark forever. When Brittany was five, her family moved into the house. Her father painted her new room pink, filling the walls with hearts, Mickey Mouse sketches, and the family dog. He wanted it to feel safe. But safety was the one thing the house refused to offer. It began with whispers. A woman's voice, always calling the same name: “Brittany…” At first soft, then louder, until it screamed her name through the silence. Her parents brushed it off as imagination, but Brittany knew the voice came from inside the room—not outside. Then came the face. Enormous, distorted, hovering inches above her as she woke in the night. Not her mother. Not human. But smiling, as if to reassure her. Somehow, she didn't panic. She simply closed her eyes, praying it would be gone. The haunting wasn't just voices or visions. It touched her dreams—and her toys. One night she dreamed of her Barbie playset. The cat turned on her, eyes glowing red with jealousy, before stalking away. The next morning, the toy cat was gone. Never found again. As though the house itself had claimed it. Years later, in high school, Brittany finally learned the truth. Her father revealed that the previous owner had died by suicide—in her bedroom. The same room where the voices called, where the face loomed, where she felt watched every night. This wasn't imagination. This was intrusion. A haunting tied not to creaking floorboards, but to despair that never left the walls. And though her family eventually moved away, the memories—and the missing toy—remained. Because some houses never really let you go. #HauntedHouse #TrueGhostStory #RealHaunting #ParanormalEncounters #GhostStories #HauntedChildhood #CreepyTrueStories #Supernatural #ParanormalActivity #Haunted #ScaryStory #TrueParanormal Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:
Some houses don't need shattered windows or rotting staircases to be haunted. Sometimes, the most ordinary walls hide the darkest secrets. This true paranormal story comes from Lincoln Park, where one seemingly normal suburban home—nicknamed “Buckingham Palace”—harbored a haunting that would leave its mark forever. When Brittany was five, her family moved into the house. Her father painted her new room pink, filling the walls with hearts, Mickey Mouse sketches, and the family dog. He wanted it to feel safe. But safety was the one thing the house refused to offer. It began with whispers. A woman's voice, always calling the same name: “Brittany…” At first soft, then louder, until it screamed her name through the silence. Her parents brushed it off as imagination, but Brittany knew the voice came from inside the room—not outside. Then came the face. Enormous, distorted, hovering inches above her as she woke in the night. Not her mother. Not human. But smiling, as if to reassure her. Somehow, she didn't panic. She simply closed her eyes, praying it would be gone. The haunting wasn't just voices or visions. It touched her dreams—and her toys. One night she dreamed of her Barbie playset. The cat turned on her, eyes glowing red with jealousy, before stalking away. The next morning, the toy cat was gone. Never found again. As though the house itself had claimed it. Years later, in high school, Brittany finally learned the truth. Her father revealed that the previous owner had died by suicide—in her bedroom. The same room where the voices called, where the face loomed, where she felt watched every night. This wasn't imagination. This was intrusion. A haunting tied not to creaking floorboards, but to despair that never left the walls. And though her family eventually moved away, the memories—and the missing toy—remained. Because some houses never really let you go. #HauntedHouse #TrueGhostStory #RealHaunting #ParanormalEncounters #GhostStories #HauntedChildhood #CreepyTrueStories #Supernatural #ParanormalActivity #Haunted #ScaryStory #TrueParanormal Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:
This true story comes from Grass Valley, California—a gold-mining town in the Sierra Nevada foothills—where bedtime meant being watched through a sliding glass door. The witness was barely two when a grown figure with black, sunken eyes and too many teeth stared in, smiling. Seconds before her scream, Smoky the cat shot up, hissing and arched, fixated on that same door. Mom never saw the intruder, but she never forgot the terror—or the animal's reaction. They moved out a few months later. Years later in Alta Sierra, inside her grandparents' brand-new home, a voice whispered from behind a closed closet—calling a name that wasn't hers: “Maylene… come here.” It sounded exactly like her uncle, who lived hundreds of miles away. She shouted, “I'm not Maylene!” and fled. Grandpa found no one. From then on, she and her sister never slept alone—Muffin the Siamese stood nightly guard. Was the first encounter a shadow person? A demonic mimic that steals the voices of the living? Can a new build really keep out a real haunting, or do some things follow? This episode dives into classic paranormal activity—animal alarms, disembodied voice mimicry, and the unnerving idea that kids truly see what adults can't. From the smile in the glass to a closet voice calling a cousin who wasn't there, this is a real haunting that lingers long after the lights go out. #HauntedHouse #ParanormalActivity #ChildhoodHaunting #GhostVoices #ShadowPerson #TrueGhostStory #CreepyEncounters #SpiritsAmongUs #GhostStoriesOnline #ParanormalEvidence Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:
Let's Chat!The first installment of our gripping new noir series "Death of Peace of Mind" drops you into the rain-slicked streets of 1986 Chicago, where Detective Grayson confronts a murder case that cuts too close to home. When the body of Eli Mathers is discovered in a seedy motel bathtub with a green matchbook stuffed in his throat and the word "Quiet" scrawled across the mirror, what begins as a standard homicide investigation quickly unravels into something far more personal.This isn't just another victim for Grayson—it's the man he once saved from suicide years ago, only to abandon him afterward. As Grayson and his sharp-eyed partner Detective Laura Black follow a trail of cryptic matchbooks and haunting memories, we're pulled into a meditation on responsibility that transcends the typical crime drama."Redemption is smaller than that," Grayson reflects in his raw, unflinching monologue. "It's slower, it's dumber, it's you alone making the same choice a hundred different ways, until no one's left to notice." Through his journey, we're forced to confront uncomfortable questions about the people we leave behind and the silence we cultivate to protect ourselves from our own failures.The episode takes an unexpected turn with a chilling "secret monologue" that offers a disturbing counterpoint to Grayson's guilt, suggesting that peace of mind might be the most dangerous illusion of all. Five powerful reflection questions challenge you to examine your own abandoned responsibilities and the sanctuaries of silence you've built.Ready to question what it really means to save someone? Ready to confront the ghosts of your own making? This is noir storytelling that doesn't just entertain—it holds up a mirror and asks you to look unflinchingly at what you see. Subscribe now and join us on this journey through the shadows of guilt, redemption, and the stories we tell ourselves to sleep at night."True mastery is found in the details. The way you handle the little things defines the way you handle everything."
Episode Notes Derick McDuff of the Underrated Podcast returns with Rob as Garber continues his tour of the MTA building.
Some stories stay with you—not because they're easy to hear, but because they change the way you see the world. Brett Staples was more than his diagnosis. He was a son, a friend, a light in the room… and when that light dimmed, his father, Bob, refused to let it go quietly. This is a story about love that refuses to fade, grief that refuses to stay silent, and a mission to make sure that what happened to Brett doesn't happen in vain.Featured in 'The Sports Edition' of AwareNow Magazine: www.awarenowmagazine.comGuest: Bob StaplesHost: Allié McGuireMusic by: DaniHaDaniProduced by: AwareNow Media
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"They lied on you.Tried to block your promotion.Smiled in your face… but planned your fall.""God saw it.And when He moves?He doesn't just remove enemies—He promotes you in front of them."#GodFightsForMe #FaithAtWork #NoWeapon
Today, you may be disappointed with great needs but find a way to fix your eyes on the needs of others. -------- Thank you for listening! Your support of Joni and Friends helps make this show possible. Joni and Friends envisions a world where every person with a disability finds hope, dignity, and their place in the body of Christ. Become part of the global movement today at www.joniandfriends.org Find more encouragement on Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, and YouTube.
Nothing is more important than the condition of your soul, and this timeless work offers thought-provoking insight and biblical wisdom for those who wish to store up treasure in heaven. Originally written by Puritan pastor William Dyer (1632–1696), The Strait Way to Heaven presents twenty biblical principles that lead to a life of deep repentance, unwavering faith in Christ, and true holiness. With deep insights drawn from Scripture, Dyer urges readers to forsake sin, embrace righteousness, and walk steadfastly in obedience to God. This revised and updated edition preserves the heart of Dyer's message while making his rich teachings more accessible to today's readers. Written with passionate urgency and deep pastoral care, this book serves as both a convicting call to self-examination and an encouraging guide to the joy of a life fully surrendered to the Lord. Dyer's words remind us that holiness is the only true path to happiness and that the narrow road of faith leads to eternal life. Whether you are seeking a deeper relationship with Christ or a better understanding of the Christian walk, The Strait Way to Heaven will challenge and inspire you to live with purpose, integrity, and unshakable devotion to God. About the Editor Ron Metheny is a Baptist pastor and Christian author. His published works include: Why, God? Why?! (Understanding Habakkuk), 'Twas the Devotional before Christmas: Daily Readings for Advent, and Echoes of Thunder (A Collection of Christian Quotes and Godly Wit). He lives in Kentucky.
Hot Topics: Blue Origin space flight with Gayle & Katy. Coachella breakdown: Gaga, Travis Scott, & Missy. Savannah Chrisley dumped. Tokyo Toni invited a fan to live with her and it didn't end up well.Greg's Recs for the week: Below Deck Down Under. SNL - The White Potus. Your Friends & Neighbors. Got to Get Out.Demetria's Recs for the week: Magazine Dreams. The Carters. 911.Follow Us on Instagram:https://www.instagram.com/escapingrealitypodcast/
John Wayne Gacy wasn't a shadowy figure hiding in plain sight—he was front and center. A man people trusted. Smiled at. Hired. And somehow, even as boys kept disappearing, no one thought to look closer—until it was too late.In this Rewired episode, Dani reapproaches the case from the ground level—bringing you into the lives of those who were affected, and the moments that slipped past unnoticed. This isn't a recap—it's a human look at the fear, the silence, and the systems that failed to see what was right in front of them.In this episode:A teenage boy heads out for a job interview and never returnsA mother waits for answers that never comeNeighbors question strange smells—and get no real responseA survivor speaks, but isn't believedThis is about more than Gacy. It's about the people around him—the ones who were ignored, the ones who tried to stop him, and the ones who never made it home.This is the second episode in a three-part series on John Wayne Gacy.Follow the full case:
GOD HAS SMILED ON ME - MARY MARY - COME DOWN FATHER RIDDIM [JKD EDIT] by JKD
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‘Tis the season for giving. By TheSleepingKing. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. 7:16 am The door from the bathroom swung open, spilling steam into the dim blue rays of light sneaking in through the blinds. Wrapped in a towel, Shauna strode into her dorm room, feet sinking into the carpet as she padded across the floor. Pausing at the window she pulled the cord to raise the blinds, bathing the room in the soft glow of an overcast Michigan dawn. A dusting of snow covered the glazing. About an inch drifted on the ledge outside. Beyond and several stories down a lone figure rounded onto the back straight of the athletic track. Shauna leaned in, her breath fogging the glass. She poked two dots and underlined them with a curve. Smiled at the new face smiling back at her. It was a beautiful Christmas Eve morning.She unhooked the towel and tossed it over the back of the chair parked under the desk. The cool air plucked at her nipples and sapped the heat from her skin. She skimmed her hands around the bulge of her breasts, across her taut tummy and the arc of her ass. Appraising her profile in the mirror she nodded. Spin class and yoga really paid off this year. From the top drawer of the dresser, she picked out white lace panties and drew them up over toned, creamy thighs. She paired them with red and white argyle knee socks and a soft strapless bra. Sifting through the hangers in the closet she settled on a flirty red A-line dress with wide shoulder straps and a length about mid-thigh. Not practical for the weather. But perfect for the mission. 7:32 am She capped the outfit with a fuzzy Santa hat and white-soled black Keds before returning to the mirror. She turned side to side and took a twirl, the dress flaring out before settling over her legs. Certainly the sexiest elf she'd ever seen. She glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. She would need to get going soon to make her deliveries. The schedule was tight. On any other Christmas Eve she'd still be asleep; tucked in tight and dead to the world in a quiet corner of her parents' six-bedroom McMansion in Traverse City. She'd get up around 10:00, meet her brother for lunch, then spend the afternoon serving food at a shelter across town before heading home for the traditional Christmas Eve dinner with her family. This year, dinner had been moved up to lunch – something about grandma and grandpa's flights. So volunteering was out. She was fine with it at first. But as the season ramped up and the holiday spirit infected her, she felt the need to replace it with something. Some way to give back. To spread a little cheer to those less fortunate this time of year. As 3rd floor RA for the co-ed dorm, she was privy to certain information. The administration realized not every student could make it home for the holidays. So the school remained open in a limited capacity, depending on the holiday and how many students remained behind. This year on her floor there were three. And since they were stuck there maybe she could celebrate with them before she left. She snatched a small white drawstring bag off her bed and slung it over her shoulder, the contents momentarily rustling about inside. Taking her key card from the dresser she slipped it into her bra and reached for the door. She paused, re-thinking, the lever rocking under her palm. Quickly, she picked it out and tucked it neatly into the back of a sock instead, before ducking out into the hall. 7:40 am Shauna stopped at Room 303. She gave her usual rata-tat-tat RA knock and shrugged the bag off her shoulder, holding the strap in the crook of her elbow. The corridor was weirdly quiet. No music or raucous conversation bleeding through the walls. She couldn't imagine having to spend the next week here under these conditions. A latch clicked in front of her, and the door creaked open. “Hey Ty,” she chirped, “Merry Christmas!” Ty seemed surprised by the greeting, then confused by her presence. He smiled. “Um…thanks. Merry Christmas to you too.” His eyes dipped – first to her cleavage, then to her legs – before rebounding to hers. He now seemed nervous too. “Can I come in for a minute?” “Uh…yeah, sure.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats he stepped aside. She glided past, her blonde curls swishing about her shoulders. Ty gently shut the door behind her. Shauna glanced around the suite. Open textbooks were strewn across the couch. Graph paper filled with notes littered the desk. The three computer monitors that typically flickered video games, now hosted row upon row of complex equations she didn't understand. Ambient techno pulsed softly through a pair of small speakers, and the room smelled faintly of Axe body spray. “I'm sorry,” he offered, “I wasn't expecting anyone today.” He was a freshman, so she'd only known him one semester. But he seemed like a good kid. Sure, he was disheveled, nerdy, and a little immature. But he was charming and considerate, and very bright – dedicated to keeping his name on the Dean's List. Didn't hurt that he was cute either. “That's okay,” she replied. “Santa knows it sucks having to be here over the holidays, so he got you a present.” She lowered the bag and reached inside, pulling out a deep green envelope with a silver star sticker sealing it shut. “Nothing big, just something to give you a break from…” she waved her arm toward the paper and monitors, “…this.” Cautiously he took the envelope, turning it over to find his name written neatly on the front. “Oh,” he said, “…thanks. That's…really nice.” A moment of awkward silence followed. “Go ahead,” Shauna prompted, “open it.” Ty shrugged. He peeled up the star and lifted the flap, extricating a Christmas card with a red-nosed Rudolph gracing the cover. He smiled as he opened it, eyes tracking back and forth across the page. Wedged in the crease was a white 3 by 5 note card. Flipping it right-side-up he discovered a sketch in black marker in the center. He froze, the smile fading, jaw dropped. He looked up at Shauna. Then back at the card. “Wait…,” he stammered, “is this…. Are you…. Is this for real?” Shauna raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “Santa likes to make sure no one on the nice list gets left out.” Her gaze fell to his groin, dialing in on the growing bulge. There was the response she was hoping for. She hung the bag over the doorknob. Closing the distance between them she reached out and pinched the card in her fingers. “Why don't you get comfortable.” She set it on a textbook and slouched against the desk, waiting. Ty looked left, then right, unsure of what to do. Finally, he stepped back and eased himself down to the edge of his bed. Shauna placed her hands on his thighs, pushing them apart before kneeling between them. The tented fleece covering his crotch pointed directly at her. She smiled. Looked up. “You've done this before, right?” He paused a moment, then nodded vigorously. She wasn't convinced. But it didn't really matter. It might even help keep her on schedule. She gave him a shove, forcing him to recline and brace with his arms. Grabbing his sweats by the pockets she jerked at them until they pooled around his ankles. His cock sprang out, slapping his abdomen before swaying back to vertical. She wrapped it in her fingers, the whole head protruding from her fist. He puffed and shivered under her touch. Leaning forward she lowered her head. His body tensed. She raised her eyes to find his narrowed, his mouth rounded and dry. “Relax,” she cooed, “just enjoy it,” and slipped his dick between her lips. A breath rattled his chest. She felt the blanket cinch beneath them as his fingers gripped and pulled. First she teased the glans, undulating her tongue beneath, then around and over the top. His hips shot up to meet her mouth. She lightened her hold, welcoming him in deeper. She bobbed her head to the rhythm of the music – down on one and three, up on two and four. His cock was rock hard, curving into the roof of her mouth with each descent. He sighed, and groaned, and grunted; the tone and timbre of each growing more urgent with each passing minute. Shauna's free hand dove under her dress and between her legs, fingers plucking aside the damp lace and strumming the slick, smooth lips of her pussy. Her partners were usually more experienced. More restrained. It had been some time since one had responded with such virginal enthusiasm. And she found it to be quite the turn-on. She held her neck as steady as she could, relinquishing control of tempo and depth. Ty trembled, huffing air through gritted teeth. Shauna peeked to find his eyes closed, neck strained, deep blue veins pulsing through. Sensing the moment, her fingers left the base of his dick and curled around his balls. She tightened her lips to a gentle squeeze. Ty stalled. A guttural growl forced its way into the air. His eyes popped open wide and fixed on Shauna's. With a batting of lashes, she pushed down on his throbbing cock until the tip of her nose bumped his abdomen. A heartbeat later, torrents of warm, viscid cum spewed into her mouth. The jets struck the back of her palate, sloshing over her tonsils and sliding down her throat. She swallowed hard but couldn't keep up. Each burst seemed richer than the last, filling her cheeks and leaking from the corners of her mouth. Her own juices deluged her fingers in response; the squelching filling the gaps between Ty's staggered gasps. A dozen spurts later his orgasm subsided. Shauna held his cock a little longer, savoring its texture on her lips and the mild, distinct flavor of his seed. She moved with him as his hips sagged back to the mattress, sinking him deeper to the root of his erection. After one final gulp she sucked in her cheeks and lifted her head, teasing the remaining fluids from the head of his dick. He gawked at her, speechless. She pulled her fingers from her pussy and held them up in front of her. They gleamed in the light, strands of grool clinging to her knuckles as she separated them. Fixing on him she sucked each finger into her mouth, swabbing them clean before licking her lips. Ty's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed flat on the bed. Shauna giggled. Pushing off she rocked to her feet. She looked at him spread over the rumpled blanket, his penis twitching on his tummy. She nodded, pleased with herself. Sweeping her hair out of her face she took the gift sack from the doorknob and the note card from the desk, slipping the latter into the former. “Did you enjoy your present?” she asked, slinging the bag over her shoulder. Ty groaned a sigh, his satisfaction evident. A smile lit Shauna's lips. “Good,” she said, “that's great.” She made her way back to the door. “You know, Santa can't offer gifts like this to everyone, so…let's keep this between us, okay?” An arm raised and a hand approximated a wave before tumbling limp to the mattress. She took it as a yes. Catching her reflection in the window she adjusted her hat. “Merry Christmas Ty,” she said softly, before disappearing into the corridor. 8:05 am Snowflakes drifted past the tall narrow windows of the student lounge separating the north and south wings of the third floor. Curled up at the far end of the couch opposite the ping pong table, Shauna twisted the cap off a bottle of diet soda and took a sip. Pulling her phone from the bag she checked the time. Javon would arrive in fifteen minutes. Plenty of time to finish her drink. She stretched out across the cushions and downed another swig. This one excited her more than the others. She and Javon were casually acquainted. Though both juniors they rarely shared classes. But they saw each other often around campus; playing pool in the lounge, grabbing coffee at Starks, or stocking up on dollar tacos Tuesday nights at Frankie's. And always, always flirting. Nothing ever came of it, unfortunately. He was putting himself through school and the scholarships just weren't enough. So he needed to work a lot. Every chance he got he'd bank some overtime or pick up an extra shift. That didn't leave much time for anything else. But today was Christmas Eve. The print shop would be closed tomorrow, so he couldn't go in tonight. Which she hoped would free up just enough time for what she had in store. A door closed in the distance, followed by footsteps in the hallway behind her. She checked her phone. He was early. She chugged another mouthful of soda, then quietly stuffed everything into the bag. The footsteps halted. A latch turned and a door opened, then closed. She counted to thirty, then slid off the couch and left the lounge, rounding the corner toward 317. 8:08 am Shauna waited, impatiently, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Still no response. She knocked again, harder this time. Shuffling noises, then heavy footfalls. The door swung open on a scowling Javon, his uniform shirt crumpled in his fist, muscles chiseled and taut. She smiled up at him, head cocked to the side. He looked her over, his mood softening as he recognized who she was. “Hey,” he said, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you still doing here?” She shrugged, ignoring the twinge in her pussy. “Waiting to see you. Can I come in?” Javon retreated inside, tossing his shirt on the bed and perching on the edge of his dresser. Shauna followed, taking quick stock of the room. Clean and sparse. Suitable for someone who spent very little time there. She turned her attention to him. Tall and dark, with bold, crisp features. His hands splotched with cyan and yellow ink from the press. “Is um…is this a bad time?” “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I was just going to take a shower, then go down for a nap.” He waved a hand in her direction. “Soooo, who are you supposed to be?” “I'm a Christmas elf,” she replied. “Santa's Helper.” Javon's eyes widened. “Oh. You're a lot taller than I would have expected of an elf.” “Well, we're not all size challenged artisans baking cookies in the off-season you know. Some of us are taller, and educated, and…really cute.” He laughed, his pecs jumping. “That's fair. Please forgive my ignorance of the elf community. I don't know any – aside from you.” She shrugged the bag off her shoulder and reached inside, crossing the carpet between them. “Listen, she began, “Santa knows how hard you work to be here, and how much that keeps you from having a life. So, he got you a little gift. It won't make up for having to be here over the holidays, but it might help take the edge off?” She pulled out a red envelope and handed it to him. He stared at it, his face cycling through several emotions, settling on confused. “Thanks,” he said, “that's…really sweet. I'm sorry I didn't get you anything.” Shauna smiled to herself, setting the bag on the floor. “Open it.” She wandered past him to the window. Raising the blinds she took a quick peek outside before turning and sliding up onto his desk, swinging her feet freely beneath. Javon zipped a finger under the flap and extracted the card; a red-nosed Rudolph printed on the cover. As he shook it open a white note card fluttered out. He snatched it out of the air and held it up. A sketch in black marker graced the white space. Shauna watched over his shoulder as he stared at the figures suggested by the swooping lines. He fanned the card, then turned and eased off his seat. He walked over to her, holding it up, the image upside down. His mouth curled in one corner. “This is uhhh…you and me?” She squinted at the picture. “Well…right-side up and all, but…sure.” She took it from him and snapped it on the desk. Her arms extended, fingers wedging themselves between the waist of his jeans and the warm, smooth skin of his abdomen. She reeled him in between her legs, squeezing them in hers. “Come on,” she said, thumbs separating the button and peeling the zipper. “Take a break.” Javon reached out, tracing the curl of her ear with his finger. Tilting his head, he leaned in for a kiss. Shauna planted a hand in the center of his chest, stopping his lips a hair's breadth from hers. His heartbeat pulsed through her arm and gut, thumping through her clit like a kick drum. She tapped a finger on the card beside her. He glanced down. Then back at her. She smiled. Pushed him away. She hopped off the desk, lowering her eyes to the height of his fly. Waiting. Javon nodded. In a single swoop he shoved his jeans to the floor and stepped out. The outline of his cock bulged the breathable fabric of his boxer briefs, curving down his right leg. A squeak left Shauna's throat. She reached inside and fished it out, needing both hands to hoist the shaft. It hardened in her grip, rising, reaching for its target. She pulled a few long strokes, its heat warming her hands. She had imagined what he might be hiding. But none of those dreams fell short of reality. Reluctantly she let go. Eyes fixed on her prize she slowly turned round, bending over the desk. She shuffled her feet a shoulder's width apart and casually wiggled her ass. Javon stepped up, his demeanor all business. Stroking his meat with one hand he grabbed the hem of her dress in the other and flipped it up over her butt. Her firm white cheeks glowed in the morning light. He took the waistband of her panties and rolled them down her hips and thighs, abandoning them around her calves and exposing her labia to the chill of the room. She was sopping wet. He swiped his penis along her slit, greasing it with her cream. Current bolted up her spine, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She threw her ass toward him, anxious to be filled. But he took his time, lubing every inch to a slippery shine. Finally satisfied, he set a palm in the small of her back and wedged the tip of his cock between her folds. Slow and steady, he sank into her vagina. Shauna gasped, eyes round. Her knees buckled, fingertips clawing at the laminate as her canal expanded to accommodate the intruder. It was thicker than any dick or dildo she remembered. And she was suddenly grateful he'd been so careful to slicken up. He took shallow, steady thrusts, loosening her vice a touch each time. Short, silent breaths gave way to grunts and groans. She tried to restrain herself in case anyone still left was walking the halls. But it was a losing battle. The pressure coiling inside would soon be too much to contain. Javon curled over her. Reaching into her dress he freed her breasts from their padded sling and cupped one in each hand. He pinched her nipples between strong fingers, yoking her tits to her clit with little bolts of lightning. The heat of the moment telegraphed through her skin, flushing her ears, cheeks, and chest a robust, rosy pink. He pushed on, diving deeper into her velvet pouch. Her arms burning, Shauna lowered her elbows and forehead to the desk. Her hair shrouded her periphery, leaving the only clear view that of her lover's balls swaying back and forth between her thighs. A delightful fog rolled over her brain, occluding everything outside the aura of their bodies. “Do you want it all,” Javon whispered, his voice piercing the veil. Shauna turned her head, mouth agape. “That's not all of it?” A baritone chuckle rumbled from his chest. He straightened up, releasing her boobs for a firm hold of her waist. He eased down the throttle, slowing his rhythm. Measuring the distance. She caught his eyes for a moment, glimpsing the same lechery she felt coursing through her veins. He smiled at her. Then hilted his cock in her pussy. “Uhhh gawd.” A wave of pleasure rippled out from her core, breaking over her entire body. She couldn't gauge how big he was, but he was now twice as deep as he had been seconds ago. He gave her a moment and a few shallow dips before ramping up the pace; drawing his dick out to the barb each time before plunging back in. Shauna's ass rippled, limbs shuddering under each impact. She stretched her arms to brace herself. But her hands squeaked against the desk each time he crashed into her, jolting her forward. She began to lose control. Her pelvic muscles clenched; labia stretching around his shaft. He growled his approval. A stern smack stung her left buttock, forcing a squeal from her larynx and a shock to her sex. Another followed, echoing off the walls into her ears. Her strength failed, drooping her back and turning her legs to jelly. Javon grabbed hold of one and lifted it, bending the knee and setting it securely on the desktop. He continued to hammer away. The cords binding her orgasm began to fray. She imagined his view from behind; her sodden pink snatch vulgarly splayed for the massive dark rod plowing her gut. Words escaped her, leaving only screams and moans to communicate her desire. 8:42 am Shauna's head was swimming, her brain just mush. But she held on, wanting this ecstasy to last forever. Her hat flew off her head, landing silently on the windowsill. Long fingers raked through her hair. They gathered her curls into his fist and pulled. Her head snapped back, jaw dropped, eyelids fluttering. The cords snapped and the coil exploded. She bore down on his dick, silent and stiff, her body racked with orgasm. Her toes dug into the carpet, her raised foot flopping about over the edge of the desk. She slapped the top with her hands, translating her contractions into a frantic rhythm beat out for Javon to hear. Her juices flowed freely, seeping out past his cock and dribbling down her thighs. And through all this, he continued to fuck her. Shauna's orgasm continued in suspended animation, tweaking her muscles and prickling her skin. As snug as he fit there was now no friction. He glided in and out like a piston in a well-oiled machine. He pumped harder, faster, working to create resistance. But her pussy was a flooded mess and that wasn't going to change. He whispered something toward her ear. A question? She couldn't decipher the words. But it didn't matter. As long as he kept filling her, perpetuating this feeling, he could do whatever he wanted. She nodded as best she could. The pounding slowed and the hand holding her waist released. The slapping of skin ceased, and his penis slipped out of her vagina. The emptiness was deflating, like the air had been sucked from her lungs. She turned to look but he stopped her, pushing her head back down to the desk. She opened her mouth to demand he continue and that's when she felt it. The pressure on the dip of her anus. Her insides knotted up. Everything clenched, then released. Her rosebud relaxed, and Javon's cock surged up her ass. She held her breath, expecting pain. But there was none. Only an indescribable fullness she had never experienced before. Each time he retracted her stomach dropped. Each plunge threatened to split her at the seams. Orgasm ripped through her again, rattling her bones and sweating from every pore. The room closed in, swaddling her in a thick black heat. She screamed but heard nothing. Felt only his cock. His fingers curled over her shoulders and around her neck. He pushed and pulled her with new urgency, opposing the swing of his hips. He'd found the resistance he was seeking, and it drove him on toward ferocious climax. In her stupor, Shauna somehow regained control of her limbs. She twisted an arm behind her back and flailed at his. When he looked down, wanton lust blazing in his eyes, she willed words from her lips. “Cum in me,” she cried, breathless, desperate for his load. “Cum in my ass.” He glared at her, neck craned, jaw set. He shifted his weight, pinning her tits to the desk and raising her butt. He tried to hold out a bit longer. But she was too tight and he was too far gone. Nodding his head Javon closed his eyes and buried his throbbing cock balls deep, erupting hot semen deep in her bowels. He roared in release, his balls smashed against her pussy, rocking into the curve of her ass. The pressure lifted her foot from the floor, grinding her hip into the edge of the desktop. But she didn't care. His cum splattered inside her, capping her climax with a warm, gooey buzz. Her buttocks quaked with each spasm. She had his cock. All of it. In the moment, that was everything. 9:04 am Gradually the pumping slowed. The pressure on her back eased and the room drifted back into focus. She glimpsed herself in a mirror near the window; hair disheveled, bare breasts smushed beneath the cockled red fabric; a trembling leg coiled on the desk, panties dangling casually from her ankle. “You are so fuckin' hot,” said the voice in her ear. She cooed, not yet able to formulate words. He rested in her a moment longer, sharing her warmth. When they'd finally caught their breath Javon stood tall. Kneading his hands into the meat of her cheeks he pushed himself back, emerging from her ass with an obscene wet slurp. Empty, Shauna sighed, the void disappointing. Her rosebud gaped, then winked several times before shrinking back into place. Javon slumped against the wall near the window. Fumbling with the latch he cracked it open. December rushed in, swirling round their bodies and raising goosebumps on their skin. Shauna shivered, invigorated, the cold soothing her scalded sex. Watching her lover she smeared her cream over her pussy and along the crack of her ass. His organ flexed toward her, but Javon shook his head. Smiling, she wriggled off the desk. On wobbly legs she gathered the note card and the bag and set them on the edge of the bed. Rummaging around in the neck of her dress she tucked her tits back into her bra and plumped them into position. Javon sauntered over, her hat in one hand, soggy panties in the other. She took the cap and fit it over her head. “Can't put those back on,” she said of her underwear. “You keep them.” He nodded, draping them over the corner of the television. She shouldered the bag and looked up at him. “Did Santa get you what you wanted?” He laughed. She followed his eyes down to his semi-hard, polished rod. “I think he fucking crushed it,” he replied. Closing the gap between them he lowered his voice. “Tell me something though. Is this strictly a Christmas situation, or…are…special occasions not required.” Shauna shrugged, the corners of her mouth curling up. “Why don't you come by sometime and find out,” she offered. “You know where I live.” She gave his penis a playful nip and tug and backed out into the hallway. 9:13 am Shauna stood quietly outside Room 334, gently swaying to a tune in her head. Her fingertips tingled and her pussy hummed along to the beat, still riding the high of the last half-hour. A trickle of semen stained her inner thigh, the remainder of Javon's deposit still trapped inside. She smoothed the front of her dress and flipped the pom of the hat to the side. She was a few minutes behind schedule. But that shouldn't be critical here. Ready for more, she knocked on the door. There was a rustling inside. A few moments later the door opened on a beautiful raven-haired Japanese girl in a tight anime tee shirt and bright blue boyshorts. Seemingly surprised, the girl dropped the pencil she held in her left hand. “Hey Sachiko,” Shauna chirped. Sachiko ripped off her headphones and flashed a nervous smile. Shauna nodded inside. “Can I come in for a minute?” Sachiko glanced over at something Shauna couldn't see, then backed her slender frame away from the door. Shauna strode inside, the latch clicking shut behind her. Unlike her first two stops, this was a bit of a gamble. Their contact had been minimal, generally restricted to her RA duties. And her scouting report was incomplete. She knew Sachiko was a sophomore, and a graphic design major. She spent summers at home in Osaka. But she couldn't afford to fly back and forth for breaks, so she usually spent them on campus. Rumor was she was into women. Of this Shauna had no confirmation. But from their interactions in the dorm and Sachiko's shyness and fluster around particular friends she did have a feeling. It was risky. But that heightened the thrill. The room was warm and cozy, lit by a floor lamp and a cube on the nightstand. Fuzzy orange pillows adorned the loveseat below the window. Incense burned in a jade tray on the corner of the dresser and a thick down comforter covered the bed. Several sketchpads scattered across the desk, a collection of porcelain cats lining the shelf above. It was clearly the space of someone needing a touch of home. “Am I like…in trouble…or something?” Sachiko wondered. “No,” Shauna laughed, amused as much by her apparent discomfort as the absurdity of the question. “I mean, have you ever been in trouble? I just wanted to wish you Happy Holidays.” Sachiko blushed. Her face made several contortions before settling on a half nod and awkward smile. “Th…thank you,” she stammered. Shauna pinched her lips between her teeth. So far so good. “I like your kitties,” Shauna continued, drifting toward the shelf. She scanned for messages, photos, anything that might give her a clue. “My sister sends me a new one for my birthday every year,” Sachiko offered. “They're beautiful.” She spotted a sheet of paper with dark smudges sticking out of the pad on top of the pile. “What's this?” she asked, reaching for it. “What? Oh!” Sachiko leapt toward her, mortified. “It's nothing, I just – ” Before she could swipe the pad Shauna had the page, staring at a gorgeous unfinished graphite sketch of a sleeping woman. She lay on her side, head on a pillow, hands underneath. Bikini panties cloaked her nethers, an arm crossed her bare breasts. And her face. Well…. Her face was very familiar. Shauna smiled to herself. This might work after all. Sachiko slunk back as Shauna turned around. She studied the drawing a moment longer, impressed by the resemblance. Finally, she looked up at Sachiko. The rosy hue of her cheeks crept into her face and neck. Shauna noticed for the first time she wasn't wearing a bra. “Did you draw this?” Sachiko sighed, looking everywhere forward. “I um…. It…it's for a class.” “You did it from memory.” She rubbed her arms with her hands. “Yeah. It just…works that way.” “It's amazing.” Shauna returned the drawing to the desk. Sluffing off the bag she retrieved the final card. “I know you don't really celebrate Christmas,” she said, “but it can't be easy being here by yourself while everyone else is. So, I got you a gift.” The silver envelope rested in her palm while Sachiko hesitated, her name glittering in gold marker. She looked up, embarrassment clouding her eyes. Shauna smiled, extending her hand. Finally, Sachiko accepted. She zipped open the flap and removed the card. A red-nosed Rudolph blinked at her from the cover. Shauna dropped the bag on the loveseat. She clasped her hands behind her back and crossed her legs at the ankles, a flirty little swivel seizing her hips. Sachiko picked the note card from the fold and looked closely. Her fingers began to tremble. Shauna sidled up closer, tucking a lock of Sachiko's hair behind her ear. Sachiko jumped at the light touch. But her gaze remained fixed on the card. Her lips parted. No sound escaped. “If you want me to stop,” Shauna murmured, “just let me know.” She kissed Sachiko's ear lobe, rolling it between her lips before drifting to her cheek and the nape of her neck. Sachiko's tremor spread to her chest. The cards fell from her grasp. Shauna continued down, over her shoulders to the swell of her breasts. She caressed one in each palm, grazing the nipples with the soft cotton of the shirt. Sachiko tangled her fingers in Shauna's hair. They curled and flexed as Shauna descended, raising her shirt and kissing her navel. She lingered there, circling, lips skimming Sachiko's butter-smooth, unblemished skin. She smelled of cherry blossom and jasmine. Shauna filled her head with the scent, priming her for the peach she was about to unwrap. Sachiko's hushed whisper floated down from above. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.” Sinking to her haunches Shauna eyed Sachiko's sex. A small wet spot darkened the fabric between her legs. Shauna peeled the underwear down over Sachiko's ass and thighs, pooling them around her feet. Exposed to the low light was a plump, tidy pussy, closely cropped dark pubic hair gracing her mound. Shauna's lips quivered. She bowed, pressing her face between Sachiko's thighs, sopping up the heat. Sachiko moaned, easing her legs apart, welcoming Shauna's tongue between her folds. Her entire body shook, chopping her breaths between chattering teeth. Shauna probed a little deeper. Sachiko doubled over, humping Shauna's mouth. Shauna yipped with delight. She shook her head side to side, slathering Sachiko's light sweet syrup over her cheeks and chin. She dug her nails into the brunette's ass, spreading her cheeks and kneading the meat. Sachiko mauled her own breasts, stretching and twisting the characters on her shirt into impossible shapes. Buffeted by Sachiko's gyrations Shauna wobbled on the balls of her feet. It was all she could do to hold on for the ride and she found herself failing at that. Toppling to her butt she roped an arm around Sachiko's neck and pulled her ear to her dripping lips. “Sit on my face,” she hissed. Sachiko fell to her knees, straddling Shauna's chest and pinning her to the floor. On all fours she scooched forward over the blonde's shoulders until her succulent snatch hovered over her RA's gaping mouth. Shauna's tongue darted out, flicking Sachiko's swollen clit. Stifling a scream Sachiko collapsed on Shauna's kisser, squeezing her ears between her thighs and swirling her pussy over her lips. Shauna lost herself in Sachiko. Inhaling her essence. Drinking her qi. She thrilled at her lover's responses – involuntary, honest and pure. There was no pretention. Only the passion of an inexperienced girl wholly submitting to her desires. She reveled in it, lapping at Sachiko's sex from the hood of her clit to the crease of her ass. Sachiko's back arched, thrusting out her chest. Her head lolled back, eyes strafing the ceiling. She squirmed on Shauna's face, blissfully ignorant of her weight, Shauna's nose, or her need to breathe. She reached back between the Shauna's splayed legs, probing under her dress until her fingers found the blonde's honeypot and slithered inside. Strangling Sachiko's wrist in her thighs Shauna groaned into her pussy. The vibrations spurred Sachiko's building orgasm, winding her body tighter and tighter, pushing her fingers faster, deeper. The circuit closed, the feedback loop complete. Every flip of the tongue, every curl of a digit, amplified the next. Sachiko bucked and thrashed. Shauna swirled and writhed. Again and again they traded blows until suddenly Sachiko fell silent, her body rigid, muscles strained. Clutching fistfuls of Shauna's hair Sachiko spread her knees and bore down, smashing her quaking pussy into Shauna's lips and gushing slippery, viscous cum all over her face. Racked with spasms she hunched over Shauna's head, wave after crashing wave of orgasm pummeling her sex. 9:38 am When the contractions finally slowed, Shauna worked her hands up to Sachiko's buttocks and nudged her. Spent, Sachiko rolled away, settling on her back against the foot of the bed. Shauna's chest heaved, gulping the cool dry air. Her eyes re-adjusted to the light. Reaching up she brushed the hat off her head and raked her fingers through moist matted hair. Arms flopping to the floor she sighed. That went well. She rolled her head and looked at Sachiko. The junior lay knees up, feet flat on the floor, her arms draped between her legs – the odd twitch in her muscles interrupting her stillness. Shauna willed herself up and crawled over. Finding her eyes shut she pressed in close and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. Sachiko smiled. “Merry Christmas,” Shauna whispered. Sachiko nodded, radiant from her orgasm. Shauna stroked her ear. “If you want me to model for you sometime,” she added, “give me a call.” She gathered her things and prepared to leave. As she passed the mirror on the closet door she stopped to look. Her face and neck glistened, glazed with Sachiko's juices. She tossed the hat in her hand, raising it to wipe herself clean. But she didn't. She decided instead she liked the way it looked. And she'd wear it a little longer. Pursing her lips, she slipped out of Sachiko's room. Light as a feather she skipped down the hall toward her room. She slowed passing Javon's door, wondering if he was already asleep. Her phone chimed in the bag, interrupting her curiosity. Retrieving it she scanned the screen and frowned. Two texts and a missed call. All from her brother. “Hey Josh,” she answered. “Yo, where the hell have you been?” There was an urgency in his tone. “I've been calling you. I'm out front, let's go!” She frowned. “Wait, what time is it?” “Quarter to ten. I told you I'd be here at 9:30, remember?” She thought for a minute, then rolled her eyes, realizing what went wrong. “Fuck,” she spat. “I thought you meant 9:30 your time.” “So you're not ready?” “No, I packed last night. I'll be right down.” Hanging up she shook her head. How did she make that mistake? She thought she'd have an hour to shower and clean up, but now they were running late. No time for any of that. Swiping the key card from her sock she popped into her room and tossed the gift bag on the bed. Snagging her backpack and navy peacoat from the closet she dashed back out headed for the lobby. 9:52 am Shauna flung open the passenger door of the coupe and tumbled inside, stuffing the backpack between her feet as she settled in the seat. Her teeth chattered from their brief exposure to the cold. Rubbing her hands together near the warm air vent she looked over at her brother behind the wheel. He stared at her, forehead crinkled, a mix of confusion and amusement scrawled across his lips. “What,” she said, staring back. He glanced down at her bare thighs – the coat just covering her lap – then back at her scowl. “Nice touch,” he replied, pointing to the bright red pileus cap. “Thanks,” she quipped, flashing a smile. “But you know it's snowing, right?” She flipped him the bird. He shrugged. “You're going to get Uncle Leo in trouble today.” Shauna tried to stifle her laugh. “Just drive Josh.” He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. “Unlike you,” he said, “I got an early start. So I'm going to get some coffee. Did you eat already?” “Yup,” she nodded. “Several times.” Josh's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. At the next light he made a left and turned into the coffee shop drive-thru. Waiting in line behind a pick-up he turned to his sister. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look a little…weird.” Shauna checked herself in the side mirror. She could taste Ty's spunk on her tongue; feel Javon's cum in her ass and Sachiko's pussy all over her face. A shiver buzzed her clit. She reclined the seat several notches and sighed, beaming at the ceiling. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I'm just…filled with Christmas spirit.” Quietly she shoved her hands beneath her legs to keep from touching herself for the remainder of the trip. By TheSleepingKing for Literotica
Hello to you listening in The Bronx, New York City, New York!Coming to you from Whidbey Island, Washington this is Stories From Women Who Walk with 60 Seconds for Story Prompt Friday and your host, Diane Wyzga.There are promises we make and promises we break; but for those promises we keep there are untold joys we could not have imagined. As in this story. Settle in to listen. This could happen to you.A Christmas Love Story Story Prompt: A promise is a promise. When did you keep a promise that turned out even better than you could have imagined? Write that story! 60 Seconds is your daily dose of hope, imagination, wisdom, stories, practical tips, and general riffing on this and that. This is the place to thrive together. Come for the stories - stay for the magic. Speaking of magic, I hope you'll subscribe, follow, share a nice shout out on your social media or podcast channel of choice, including Android, and join us next time! You're invited to stop by the website and subscribe to stay current with Diane, her journeys, her guests, as well as creativity, imagination, walking, stories, camaraderie, and so much more: Quarter Moon Story Arts✓ Check out Services I Offer,✓ Arrange your no-sales, Complimentary Coaching Consult,✓ Stay current with Diane as “Wyzga on Words” on Substack and on LinkedInStories From Women Who Walk Production TeamPodcaster: Diane F Wyzga & Quarter Moon Story ArtsMusic: Mer's Waltz from Crossing the Waters by Steve Schuch & Night Heron MusicAll content and image © 2019 to Present Quarter Moon Story Arts. All rights reserved.
FINAL UPDATE - Reddit Relationship Stories - OP and his wife were on a camping trip with their friends, and at one point, he saw his friend grab his wife, and she smiled. This sent OP on a fact-finding mission, and he found everything.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/lost-genre-reddit-stories--5779056/support.
Reddit Relationship Stories - OP and his wife were on a camping trip with their friends, and at one point, he saw his friend grab his wife, and she smiled. This sent OP in a fact finding mission and he found everything.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/lost-genre-reddit-stories--5779056/support.
It's not every day you see a mysterious nun drift through your hallway at 3 a.m., smile warmly, and leave you questioning everything. In this haunting and emotional story, a teenager navigates grief, depression, and strange encounters, only to discover that not all ghosts are here to scare us—some show up to save us. With shadowy figures, haunting smiles, and a voice from beyond, this episode explores how spirits might just have our backs when life feels the darkest. If you have a real ghost story or supernatural event to report, please write into our show or call 1-855-853-4802! If you like the show, please help keep us on the air and support the show by becoming a Premium Subscriber. Subscribe here: http://www.ghostpodcast.com/?page_id=118 or at or at http://www.patreon.com/realghoststories
Girl Wonder Podcast: Your Everyday Girl Discussing Your Favorite Webtoons
That time Dae choked out Zen and SMILED while doing it! Discussing episodes 92-94 of Eaternal Nocturnal by Instantmiso! JOIN INSTANTMISO'S PATREON: patreon.com/instantmiso JOIN MY PATREON FOR EARLY ACCESS: patreon.com/girlwonder EATERNAL NOCTURNAL IN 33 MINUTES (Recap Podcast Episode): https://soundcloud.com/user-35260934/eaternal-nocturnal-in-33-minutes-the-ultimate-series-recap-deep-dive?si=9271d4aec2b846248232a49a41af6835&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing LATEST INTERVIEW WITH INSTANTMISO: https://soundcloud.com/user-35260934/qa-with-instantmiso-creator-of-eaternal-nocturnal-sirens-lament?utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing MY FIRST INTERVIEW WITH INSTANTMISO: https://soundcloud.com/user-35260934/all-about-sirens-lament-with?si=e8138a59da224dc6b4a4013fa5fe7fb7&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing SHOP WEBTOON - SIREN'S LAMENT: https://shopwebtoon.com/collections/sirens-lament MUSIC CREDIT: Isabella LeVan https://www.instagram.com/isabellalevan https://open.spotify.com/artist/3mHmktHG4sbkGsCORnaNT3?si=Nx2DvyOGQyatxudvD3ik9Q Connect with Girl Wonder: My Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/girlwonder My YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCTk-JbxxAnf5TKyeCchNRHA twitter.com/girlwonderpod instagram.com/girlwonderpodcast Email: girlwondersquad (at) gmail (dot) com Buy me a coffee: http://ko-fi.com/girlwonderpodcast
Send us a comment!Today's TreasureFor God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from Him.He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken.Psalm 62:5, 6Support the Show.
Hour 3 – Following the sweep of the White Sox, The Drive looked at how the schedule shakes out nicely for the Royals to continue their nice start.
Ever since Princess Atreya was released from the tower where she spent her adolescence, all anyone ever does is tell her to smile. Everyone knows Atreya has no sense of humor––or does she? Baffled by expectations that she should behave coquettishly for the delight of suitors she doesn't find amusing, Atreya is maligned as a shrew and blamed for the kingdom's misfortunes. The king offers Atreya's fair hand to any man who can make her laugh. Which might be a problem for a rebellious princess who doesn't think these lame dudes are funny... This episode was performed by Rebecca Tanwen Episode script by Kari Zander Sound Design by Emma Love Co-Directed by Madeleine Regina and Emma Love Feminist Fairytales is produced by Madeleine Regina, Van Winkle, Jennie Grenelle, Madelyn Dorta and Emma Love. Theme music composed and produced by Juliana Marin. Episode transcript can be found here. Love Feminist Fairytales? Get early access to all episodes by becoming a Patreon member today! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Hello to you listening in The Bronx, New York City, New York!Coming to you from Whidbey Island, Washington this is Stories From Women Who Walk with 60 Seconds for Story Prompt Friday and your host, Diane Wyzga.There are promises we make and promises we break; but for those promises we keep there are untold joys we could not have imagined. As in this story. Settle in to listen. This could happen to you.The Love Story Story Prompt: A promise is a promise. When did you keep a promise that turned out even better than you could have imagined? Write that story! You're always invited: “Come for the stories - stay for the magic!” Speaking of magic, would you subscribe, share a 5-star rating + nice review on your social media or podcast channel of choice, and join us next time!Meanwhile, stop by my Quarter Moon Story Arts website to:✓ Check out What I Offer,✓ Arrange your free Story Start-up Session,✓ Opt In to my monthly NewsAudioLetter for bonus gift, valuable tips & techniques to enhance your story work, and✓ Stay current with Diane on LinkedIn.Stories From Women Who Walk Production TeamPodcaster: Diane F Wyzga & Quarter Moon Story ArtsMusic: Mer's Waltz from Crossing the Waters by Steve Schuch & Night Heron MusicAll content and image © 2019 to Present Quarter Moon Story Arts. All rights reserved.
This is our Halloween episode and our guest wishes to remain anonymous. He tells a story about a dog that was knocking on the window and smiling like a human. We talk about various other strange things from spirits, ufos, bigfoot and more! Please visit the website at Lodgetales.comSupport this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/lodge-tales/donations
In July of 2016, a 19 year old girl named Aleah Beckerle VANISHED from her bedroom. No one knew what had happened to her... and she couldn't have simply walked out of the house, because she was disabled and unable to travel without her wheelchair, which was found empty by her bedside. So, what happened to Aleah? Well, the truth is stranger than fiction. You're listening, to MURDER IN AMERICA. - Stay Connected: Join the Murder in America fam in our free Facebook Community for a behind-the-scenes look, more insights and current events in the true crime world: https://www.facebook.com/groups/4365229996855701 If you want even more Murder in America bonus content, including ad-free episodes, come join us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/murderinamerica Instagram: http://instagram.com/murderinamerica/ Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/people/Murder-in-America-Podcast/100086268848682/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/MurderInAmerica TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@theparanormalfiles and https://www.tiktok.com/@courtneybrowen Feeling spooky? Follow Colin as he travels state to state (and even country to country!) investigating claims of extreme paranormal activity and visiting famous haunted locations on The Paranormal Files Official Channel: https://www.youtube.com/c/TheParanormalFilesOfficialChannel - (c) BLOOD IN THE SINK PRODUCTIONS 2023
What sound does a Star make? Ask yourself this question and listen to the silence that follows. Every time you're noticing thoughts today, pause, and come back Here. To the Scintillating-Silence. Hear your Light. Feel your Light. When you dissolve thoughts in this Light, you're dissolving the problem. Whatever it was you were thinking about is also clearing-- the sky of your mind is clearing, revealing the twinkling Star, the Sun, that you are, that I Am. With you in and AS the Shining, Nik nikki@curlynikki.com p.s. How I weathered the (inner and outer) storm- 1. Prioritized meditation and silent sitting 2. Limited access to me- reduced meetings, phone calls, text messages, excessive news watching, and went inside myself ("Worldly people go outwards but you go inwards like the tortoise withdrawing in his shell." - Neem Karoli Baba) 3. Whenever fear or doubt would arise, I'd immediately retreat if I could, to hear God's voice, the voice of Silence, over my own. 4. Trusted that everything would be okay no matter what, and that whether the storm appeared to hit our home or not, the practice, the work was the same-- to open my heart. 5. Smiled and help others find theirs. “My challenge to you as fellow pilgrims on the journey, is to cultivate the stability of living on two planes of consciousness simultaneously—as Christ said, ‘In the world but not of the world,' to be fully passionately involved in life and also be totally equanimous and centered. This is not an either/or, it's a both/and.” - Ram Dass Support the show: ▶▶https://www.patreon.com/goodmornings _________________________________ Today's Quotes: "As the depth of Love increases, the intensity of fear slowly decreases." -Amma "Pray to God for the power to remain aware of the Self in all conditions and circumstances." -Anandamayi Ma "When you go within yourself-- I don't care what the trouble is-- and Christ arises, awakens, it says to the storm within you, 'Peace, Be Still,' and there is a great Calm. You have entered meditation; you have left the storm of the mind and entered the Silence." -Bill Skiles "As for the Word-- His wisdom meditates on It, His teaching utters It, His knowledge has revealed It, His patience is a crown upon It, His joy is in harmony with It, His glory has exalted It, His character has revealed It, His rest has received It, His Love has incarnated It, His faith has embraced It." -The Word of the Father Appears (Naghamadi Texts, translation by John Lash) Support the show Beginning Aug 7, 2023 - 'GoOD Mornings with CurlyNikki' will host pre and post roll ads within the back catalogue.
The house, as expected, passed the paid family leave bill leaving the future of small business in MN in doubt. Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductees, and we didn't even fight about it. Kids show up to prom in a WWII tank. Johnny Heidt with guitar news.Heard On The Show:Minnesota House passes paid family, medical leave billMetro area group plans fight against mosquitoes as temperatures rise, spring floods continueRussia alleges Ukraine tried to attack the Kremlin in a Putin assassination attemptShocking moment college student SMILED during field sobriety test just minutes after KILLING TWO while three times over the legal limit: Receives 14 years in prison Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoicesSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
The house, as expected, passed the paid family leave bill leaving the future of small business in MN in doubt. Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductees, and we didn't even fight about it. Kids show up to prom in a WWII tank. Johnny Heidt with guitar news. Heard On The Show: Minnesota House passes paid family, medical leave bill Metro area group plans fight against mosquitoes as temperatures rise, spring floods continue Russia alleges Ukraine tried to attack the Kremlin in a Putin assassination attempt Shocking moment college student SMILED during field sobriety test just minutes after KILLING TWO while three times over the legal limit: Receives 14 years in prison Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
What sound does a Star make?Ask yourself this question and listen to the silence that follows.Every time you're noticing thoughts today,pause,and come back Here.To the Scintillating-Silence.Hear your Light.Feel your Light.When you dissolve thoughts in this Light, you're dissolving the problem.Whatever it was you were thinking about is also clearing--the sky of your mind is clearing,revealing the twinkling Star,the Sun,that you are, that I Am. With you in and AS the Shining,Nik nikki@curlynikki.comp.s. How I weathered the (inner and outer) storm-1. Prioritized meditation and silent sitting 2. Limited access to me- reduced meetings, phone calls, text messages, excessive news watching, and went inside myself ("Worldly people go outwards but you go inwards like the tortoise withdrawing in his shell." - Neem Karoli Baba)3. Whenever fear or doubt would arise, I'd immediately retreat if I could, to hear God's voice, the voice of Silence, over my own. 4. Trusted that everything would be okay no matter what, and that whether the storm appeared to hit our home or not, the practice, the work was the same-- to open my heart. 5. Smiled and help others find theirs.“My challenge to you as fellow pilgrims on the journey, is to cultivate the stability of living on two planes of consciousness simultaneously—as Christ said, ‘In the world but not of the world,' to be fully passionately involved in life and also be totally equanimous and centered. This is not an either/or, it's a both/and.” - Ram Dass LOVE CHARGING STATION, Live, Daily, Group Practice- 6:30am ET (Spotify LIVE):▶▶ https://apps.apple.com/id/app/spotify-live/id1517524960Support the show:▶▶https://www.patreon.com/goodmorningsGoOD Mornings merch:▶▶https://www.patreon.com/goodmorningsWeekly LIVE Meditation, Tuesdays at 7pm ET (FREE on Spotify)▶▶ https://spotify.link/meditation_________________________________Today's Quotes: "As the depth of Love increases, the intensity of fear slowly decreases."-Amma"Pray to God for the power to remain aware of the Self in all conditions and circumstances."-Anandamayi Ma"When you go within yourself-- I don't care what the trouble is-- and Christ arises, awakens, it says to the storm within you, 'Peace, Be Still,' and there is a great Calm. You have entered meditation; you have left the storm of the mind and entered the Silence."-Bill Skiles "As for the Word--His wisdom meditates on It, His teaching utters It, His knowledge has revealed It, His patience is a crown upon It, His joy is in harmony with It, His glory has exalted It, His character has revealed It, His rest has received It, His Love has incarnated It, His faith has embraced It."-The Word of the Father Appears (Naghamadi Texts, translation by John Lash) Support the show
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