Podcasts about sour

Follow Alexandra on LinkedIn and X!Follow us on Instagram and on LinkedIn!Created by SOUR, this podcast is part of the studio's "Future of X,Y,Z" research, where the collaborative discussion outcomes serve as the base for the futuristic concepts built in line with the studio's mission of solving urban, social and environmental problems through intelligent designs.Make sure to visit our website and subscribe to the show on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or Google Podcasts so you never miss an episode. If you found value in this show, we would appreciate it if you could head over to iTunes to rate and leave a review – or you can simply tell your friends about the show!Don't forget to join us next week for another episode. Thank you for listening!

CherryPop welcomes star of The Buccaneers, Aubri Ibrag to the podcast.  Aubri and Meg explore her character Lizzie's empowering Season 2 arc. They touch upon the show's beautiful and powerful themes of female friendship, love, and what happens when the two conflict. Although Lizzie may make some questionable choices, we're very proud of her for choosing love and following her heart. At the end of the day, the Buccaneers always find their way back to each other, which is just one of the countless reasons we are continually obsessed with the series.  Although it takes place in the past, Aubri discusses the show's very relatable themes. We may not relate to, say, abdications, but we can relate to these characters on a human level, and as Aubri says, “that's what storytelling is all about.” We, of course, also dive into this season's sensational aesthetics, set pieces, and costumes. The episode comes to a close in true CherryPicks style with a game of “Sweet and Sour” with Aubri sharing her exciting future career goals and aspirations.  “[There are] men like Seadown that exist, who made Lizzie feel so awful for such a long time, and she tried to almost quiet herself and make herself smaller so that she didn't elicit bad reactions from people, which is really heartbreaking. But I'm really proud of her [...] for pursuing love.” -Aubri Ibrag “After being sexually violated by Seadown, she was quite numb and probably gave up on the idea of ever having passionate feelings, but then came along Theo… I'm really proud of her for allowing herself to follow that feeling, even though it did hurt people. I'm proud of her for doing something wrong, for once, if that makes sense, that was in her own self interest.” -Aubri Ibrag  All episodes of The Buccaneers Season 2 are available to stream on Apple TV+.  CherryPicks is the best place to see what women think about movies, tv, and more. CherryPicks highlights reviews and original stories exclusively from female and non-binary writers. www.TheCherryPicks.com Follow CherryPicks on Instagram and Twitter @thecherrypicks Follow your host Meg McCarthy on Instagram   @megjomccarthy Music composed by Honor Nezzo. CherryPop is executive produced by Miranda Bailey and Rebecca Odes, produced and hosted by Meg McCarthy, and edited by In Haus Media Photo Credit:  Stephanie Diani

This week we rejoice in a basic cocktail making bourbon, and some port, with a continental sour! Plus we get ready for a busy movie-going week, get ready for Alien: Earth, and look ahead to Freaky Friday bonus content!⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Merch Shop⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Patreon⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Bluesky⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Facebook⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.drinkthemovies.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠YouTube⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Discord⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠*Please Drink Responsibly*

Northern sour hour we celabrate 60s years of Twisted wheel legendery manchester soul club back in sept thank you

It's always soup season and today we make you sweat before professing our love for cartoon characters and catchy jingles. With cameo appearances by Ms Piggy, Chucky and Spumoni we realize that we're sick of lessons, have no fiery rants at the ready and don't care what the tongue has to tell us before declaring that Matthew has always been a Dad. Me Lost Me Cookie at the DiscoThe Chess Master from Story Piratesvideo by Chinese Cooking DemystifiedMade with LauHunger Pangs from ATKMatthew's Now but Wow! - Pavements movie  Support Spilled Milk Podcast!Molly's SubstackMatthew's Bands: Early to the Airport and Twilight DinersProducer Abby's WebsiteListen to our spinoff show Dire DesiresJoin our reddit

Alex Holder loves her new life in Lisbon but has become increasingly uneasy that people like her might be damaging the cities they love. Help support our independent journalism at theguardian.com/infocus

The US president is turning the screw on India over its ties with Russia, doubling tariffs to 50% - a level some are calling a trade embargo. How has the once-close relationship between Donald Trump and Narendra Modi fallen apart? Dr Chietigj Bajpaee of Chatham House delves into the complexities of this relationship and considers whether India could – or would – reduce its reliance on Moscow.The World in 10 is the Times' daily podcast dedicated to global security. Expert analysis of war, diplomatic relations and cyber security from The Times' foreign correspondents and military specialists. Watch more: www.youtube.com/@ListenToTimesRadio Read more: www.thetimes.com Photo: Getty Images Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this week's episode we spotlight the beautiful Ancona duck. Lisa Steele joins us to share her best tips for starting a farm or homestead. We share our recipe for sweet and sour fried eggs, and provide some retail therapy with chicken coffee table books.Grubbly Farms - click here for our affiliate link.https://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-100963304-15546963Pre and Probiotic and Vitamin and Electrolyte Powders!Bright and Early Coffee - use code CWTCL15 for 15% off of any bagged coffee. K Cups always ship free!https://brightandearlycoffee.com/Omlet Coops- Use Our Affiliate Link and COFFEE10 code for 10% off!https://tidd.ly/3Uwt8BfChicken Luv -  use CWTCL50 for 50% off your first box of any multi-month subscription!https://www.chickenluv.com/Breed Spotlight is sponsored by Murray McMurray Hatcheryhttps://www.mcmurrayhatchery.com/Metzer Farms Waterfowlhttps://www.metzerfarms.com/Nestera UShttps://nestera.us/cwtclUse our affiliate link above for 5% off your purchase!Love My Girls Treats - https://www.lovemygirls.com/Sweet and Sour Fried Eggs - https://coffeewiththechickenladies.com/farm-fresh-egg-recipes/sweet-and-sour-fried-eggs/CWTCL Websitehttps://coffeewiththechickenladies.com/CWTCL Etsy Shophttps://www.etsy.com/shop/CoffeeWChickenLadiesAs Amazon Influencers, we may receive a small commission from the sale of some items at no additional cost to consumers.CWTCL Amazon Recommendationshttps://www.amazon.com/shop/coffeewiththechickenladiesSupport the show

Send us a textIn the newest release from the Dew Dads, they try the new Powerade Extra Sour flavors and give their thoughts.  What kind of inspirational coach speeches do the Dew Dads have for you?  How much do they really know about sports?  Who is Stan Blanchard?  Why did Justin lie about Enrique Iglesias?  You can only find out by listening to the newest episode of Dew Dads!

3HL - 8-4-25 - Hour 1 - Titans End First Week in Pads on Sour Note + Easton Freeze joinsSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Welcome back Shedheads!This week the guys are kicking it off with the new drops! We're talking Mountain Dew Summer Freeze and Dragon Fruit, Sour Poweraid, and Sweettart Squasheez. Does Mountain Dew know the future? There is a conspiracy theory that Mountain Dew drops its most successful flavors right before a natural disaster. Staying on the Mountain Dew subject, Buffalo Wild Wings has a new Mountain Dew drink that left us scratching our heads.Sour Poweraid is one thing, but what about other sour candy? What is the most sour candy you've had?Lastly, the guys close it out talking about who the highest paid sports stars are. From Labron James to Lionel Messi, we look up who's making bank?Support the showWant More Shedtime Podcast?Want to Find the Show on your FAVORITE STREAMING SERVICE?Want more EXCLUSIVE CONTENT only available to the Shedheads?Visit the Shed on the web :http://www.shedtimepodcast.comFind the Shedtime Podcast on Instagram : @ShedtimePodcast

3HL - 8-4-25 - Hour 1 - Titans End First Week in Pads on Sour Note + Easton Freeze joinsSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This week, I'm joined by Paige Foote, who ran her first marathon on a half-mile loop at an Air Force base after the 2020 NYC Marathon was canceled. We talk about what it was like training solo during lockdown, fueling with sour candy and Rice Krispie treats, and turning her make-it-work marathon into the idea that would later become Noogs. She shares how her second marathon—the real NYC race in 2021—gave her the full finish line magic she missed the first time. From accidentally meeting a long-run buddy at mile 20 to bonding with other first-time marathoners in the start village, Paige's story is a great example of how much running can change when you do it alongside other people. We also get into how a viral TikTok helped Noogs take off and what it's been like growing a brand while still running for fun. Follow along with Noogs at @noogsofficial! Save 15% on Noogs at Noogon.com with code myfirstmarathon! Save this for future reference:  Follow along with the show:

BREEDERS SYNDICATE MERCH NOW AVAILABLE!https://www.syndicategear.comCheck out our BuyMeACoffee to Access Our Discord & Membership Plan Here:https://www.buymeacoffee.com/matthewriotBREEDERS SYNDICATE LINKS: https://linktr.ee/riotseedsFollow us on Twitch!https://www.twitch.tv/thebreederssyndicateCheck out our STRAIN DATABASE aka CODEX: https://codex.thebreederssyndicate.com/Copyright Disclaimer: The material contained herein is used under the doctrine of 'fair use' pursuant to Section 107 of the U.S. Copyright Act, allowing for limited use of copyrighted material for criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. All rights reserved to the original copyright holders.Intro / Outro courtesy of:Sight of Wonders / Approaching the Middle East / courtesy of www.epidemicsound.com#breederssyndicate #cannaluminati #riotseeds #blueberry #strainhistory #cannabis #education #chemdog #chuckypollens #weedpodcast #bagseedtvBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/breeders-syndicate-3-0--5630034/support.

(00:00) Commanders WR Terry McLaurin requests trade (41:00) Micah Parsons deal talks go south (53:00) Takeaways from the Hall of Fame Game

The Kenny Scamdoval is breaking news, so of course, we need to jump right into it. The Valley Finale gives us some concluding thoughts on Jax and Janet. Finally, our Bachelor in Paradise recap concludes on a somber note. One thing this show consistently does is somehow make the WRONG choices in production. Oof. Support the show

Corner Booth at Rex'sOur newest Corner Booth at Rex's is on James Gunn reboot of Superman. The movie is packed to the gills with characters, creatures, and crazy concepts. Come alongside us as we discuss all the good, the bad, and the very weird of the movie that will reboot the entire DCU. Byers makes Troy a little sad with one of his criticisms of the film as it was one of his favorite scenes. We discuss how audiences don't need origin stories for well established characters anymore and it's great that directors are in agreement. Spoiler free until the 21 minute mark. Intro/Outro music by friend of the podcast Seth Gilbertson.Find more music at iTunes (⁠https://music.apple.com/us/artist/seth-gilbertson/1155231950⁠)and YouTube (⁠https://www.youtube.com/user/sethgilbertson/videos⁠)

July 30th, 2025 Follow us on Facebook, Instagram and X Listen to past episodes on The Ticket’s Website And follow The Ticket Top 10 on Apple, Spotify or Amazon MusicSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

California growers report high-quality fruit but face yield drops, labor challenges, and cannery concerns.

A revealing new Wall Street Journal poll shows both major political parties deep in negative approval territory, with Democrats suffering their worst ratings in over 30 years. Meanwhile, fresh scrutiny emerges over the debunked "17 intelligence agencies" claim tied to Trump-Russia collusion, now exposed as the work of a handpicked few under CIA Director John Brennan. Whistleblower efforts were ignored, mainstream media misled, and political manipulation ran deep—raising new concerns about government overreach, media complicity, and public apathy.

BREEDERS SYNDICATE MERCH NOW AVAILABLE!https://www.syndicategear.comCheck out our BuyMeACoffee to Access Our Discord & Membership Plan Here:https://www.buymeacoffee.com/matthewriotBREEDERS SYNDICATE LINKS: https://linktr.ee/riotseedsFollow us on Twitch!https://www.twitch.tv/thebreederssyndicateCheck out our STRAIN DATABASE aka CODEX: https://codex.thebreederssyndicate.com/Copyright Disclaimer: The material contained herein is used under the doctrine of 'fair use' pursuant to Section 107 of the U.S. Copyright Act, allowing for limited use of copyrighted material for criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. All rights reserved to the original copyright holders.Intro / Outro courtesy of:Sight of Wonders / Approaching the Middle East / courtesy of www.epidemicsound.com#breederssyndicate #cannaluminati #riotseeds #blueberry #strainhistory #cannabis #education #chemdog #chuckypollens #weedpodcast #bagseedtvWant to create live streams like this? Check out StreamYard: https://streamyard.com/pal/d/5591549961568256Want to create live streams like this? Check out StreamYard: https://streamyard.com/pal/d/5591549961568256Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/breeders-syndicate-3-0--5630034/support.

A new Wall Street Journal poll finds 63% of voters view the Democratic Party unfavorably — the highest recorded since 1990. While Republicans hold a modest edge with 19% very favorable support, both parties face widespread frustration. The poll suggests Democrats have yet to convince voters they can govern better than Trump's GOP. Subscribe to our newsletter to stay informed with the latest news from a leading Black-owned & controlled media company: https://aurn.com/newsletter Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Listen along as we discuss Netflix's three hundred and eighty-sixth film, the 2021 South Korean romantic comedy ‘Sweet & Sour' (Saekomadalkom) directed by Lee Gye-byeok starring Jang Ki-yong, Chae Soo-bin and Krystal Jung.   Please follow us at Flix Forum on Facebook or @flixforum on X (Twitter) and Instagram and answer our question for the episode, 'Do you shower as soon as you get home from work?'   You can listen to us on Apple Podcasts, Spotify and Podbean so please subscribe and drop us a review or 5 star rating.    If you're interested in what else we are watching, head on over to our Letterboxd profiles; Jesse    We also have our own Flix Forum Letterboxd page! Links to all our past episodes and episode ratings can be found there by clicking here.    Next week we have 'Trippin' with the Kandasamys', so check out the film before then. You can see the trailer here.   Flix Forum acknowledges the Traditional Owners of the Land we have recorded this podcast on, the Wurundjeri and Bunurong people of the Kulin Nation. We pay our respects to their Elders past, present, emerging and extend that respect to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures.

Sour or sweet you'll find your perfect match here... sorry.

Quaranteam-Northwest: Part 2 The Start of Something New Based on a post by Break The Bar. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Grierson finally sat forward, meeting me energy-to-energy as he kept my gaze locked in. "And yet, here we are, Mr. Black. We can either come up with a deal, or I swear to Christ and all the Saints that the government will seize this land for eminent domain under the emergency provisions of the pandemic and you won't be able to do a fucking thing about it." "Sell, or die," I said. "So you can build a 'resettlement camp?' Jesus Christ, yourself. If you know so much about my family history, you know building a fucking 'camp' of any sort on this land would be the absolute last thing I would bend over for." "I didn't say 'camp.'" Grierson said. "No matter what your Native, and Japanese, forebears had to go through, listen to me; this is the farthest thing from that." I was 1/32nd native from my father's side and 1/16th Japanese from my mother's side. Again, not the hardest thing to dig up, but while I had the black hair of both those ancestries, I mostly just looked like a tall white guy with a pretty generic last name. No one ever assumed I was anything else in passing. "What does that even mean?" Erica asked. "It means we aren't building concentration camps," Grierson said, glancing over at her. "We aren't building a reservation, or an internment camp, or any of the other shitty things our and other governments have done to people." He looked back at me again. "We're going to develop this land into a neighborhood. The God damned fanciest kind of gated community you can think of. Big houses, big properties, for people who do or did important work to settle in safety and stability as we try to survive this shit show virus." "None of this answers why," I said. "Why should I agree to this? Why shouldn't I make it so fucking annoying that you go find a different patch of land and leave me alone?" Grierson frowned, though I had the feeling he'd been planning this from the start. He wanted me to work to peel back the layers of information, to earn the answers because that would make me believe them more. It would tick off boxes in my psychology and experience. The fucking problem was even though I knew he was doing it, it was also working. "Because you'd be saving lives," Grierson answered. "Our pilot development down in California is called New Eden; the place is only two-thirds built to starting specs, and we're already out of room on the next five phases of development once it's opened. Now it's my job to set up the next locations and get them rolling because our current projections are that within the next six months, the death toll is only going to skyrocket. We can't even get a grasp on what the numbers might reasonably be because the range is so fucking staggering. Millions is the easy number, Mr. Black." It was my turn to say it. "Fuck." "Now, you're not going to hear that on the TV," Walters said. "You won't hear it from the CDC, or the other health agencies. The only reason we are cleared to tell you this is because folks in our circles have developed the preference to work with reasonable people when they are useful. And also, who would fucking believe you?" "Here's our offer," Grierson said, pulling out a slip of folded paper from inside his suit jacket and putting it on the coffee table. "That's the hard cash number we've designated for this deal. No taxes. Straight transfer from us to you. There will also be other perks, including homes inside the settlement for you and Mr. Lacoste. Things are about to get really weird in the world. Have you heard anything about the Tier system?" "Nothing," I said, but Leo spoke up. "I saw some rumors. It's supposed to be some kind of a terrifying triage, right?" he asked. "Who's the most worthy kind of shit. People started protesting, but I thought it got debunked." Grierson nodded. "Oh, we stopped the protests, but it's all too real. I won't hide it; I find the entire thing absolutely un-American. It's the kind of shit the Chinese government operates, but it is what it is." Walters drained the last of his coffee and set the mug onto the coaster on the coffee table politely. "Suffice it to say, it's a sort of social karma system. The more important you are to society, the more protections and comforts you're afforded as we roll out our limited resources on quarantine defenses. There's 5 tiers, one being the lowest and five the highest. Most of society will land in the 1's and 2's, including all three of you. This development we'll be building is mostly going to house 3's and 4's. As part of the deal, we'll place Leo at tier 3 for resettlement purposes, and you Harrison would be placed at tier 4 despite your lack of qualification in the matter." This entire conversation felt like I was running downhill trying to keep up with an avalanche. "That sounds an awful lot like a really great way to set up for corruption," I said. "A fucking caste society? Really?" "It's already done," Grierson said. "Believe me, there were a lot of in-the-know people against the idea. But it's the only idea that works in this situation. We've gamed it out to the Nth degree. Leo, your description is pretty much the best that we were able to make internally. We're triaging society to make sure it stays together and can weather this hurricane." "What would we tier at without this?" Leo asked. "Leo Lacoste," Grierson said, talking as if he were reading directly off of a portfolio even though he rattled it off without referencing anything. "Positives: Early thirties age bracket, relatively fit and healthy. Low-to-Mid career path; carpentry skills of moderate qualification. No criminal record. Negatives: No community investment. Likely rating: Tier 1." "Harrison Black," he continued. "Positives: Early thirties age bracket, relatively fit and healthy. Former military service including Military Police service, honorable discharge at the rank of MP Investigations Special Agent, no known psychological impacts. No criminal record. Negatives: No community investment, null-rank career; freelance artist. Likely rating: Tier 1." "To be fair, there is a big question mark on your file that we couldn't fill," Walters said. "Your honorable discharge happened mid-tour, without any reported incidents or injuries. It's surprising you haven't been called back into at least reserve service with the Emergencies Acts. A decent answer would probably bump you up to tier two." "I can't talk about it," I said. Erica snorted and rolled her eyes, and both men looked at her. "Erica," I warned her. "What?" she demanded. "They just called you 'low tier,' Harri. If you're not going to tell them then I will." "I can't talk about it," I said again. "Harrison knocked out an Air Force bigwig when he was an MP and stationed in Germany," Leo cut in. "The guy was abusing and trying to blackmail a female subordinate into sex. The only reason we know is because she tracked Harri down a few years ago and we met her in a bar in Portland." "The bigwig was politically protected and nothing happened in the end," Erica said. "At least, that's what she said. He got shuffled around, and Harrison got the boot." "I got an honorable discharge instead of a court martial for striking a very superior officer of a different branch," I said. "And part of that deal was that I not talk about it." "Well that explains some things," Grierson said. "It wouldn't change anything though. If you were doing something more useful with your life than painting little pictures, you might have made tier two or three without this offer." "Says you," Erica scoffed. "Art is useful. And important!" Grierson pursed his lips slightly. "Erica Lacoste. Not an official resident of the property, but I know enough. Positives: Early thirties age bracket, relatively fit and healthy. Negatives: Criminal record, including battery, two counts of public drunkenness, and public urination. No community investment. Null rank career; tattoo artist. Likely rating: Tier 1." "Hey, fuck you too," Erica said, and pointed her middle finger at Grierson, along with a scowl to go with it. Honestly, none of that was surprising news about Erica for me except for the Battery charge, I definitely needed to get that story out of her. "Okay, we get it," I said, interrupting what I had a feeling was about to become a degenerating path of conversation. "You know about us. You do realize this is all a little much, right? It comes across as insane." "Of course it does," Grierson sighed. "But a year ago, only bored analysts tripping on LSD were asked to think about these kinds of situations. Now we're in it, right in the damned middle of the clusterfuck." "You should really look at the offer," Walters said, gesturing to the folded paper I hadn't looked into yet. It sat on the coffee table like an accusing finger pointed at me by my father, and his father before him. How dare I even consider this? "So it's a butt load of cash," I said, still not opening the paper. "And we get treated like what, royalty? And in exchange, I lose my family legacy." "Royalty is a stretch; you're selling us land, not curing cancer. We'll take care of you like valued members of society. You'll also get early access to the vaccine," Grierson said. "There's a vaccine?" Leo immediately asked. "Social media has been wild with rumors but,” "It's still experimental," Walters said. "And undergoing trials. But it's functioning, with some unconventional side effects. They're still doing long-term tests down in California, but we're going to start rolling it out down there any day now once the doctors are happy with the plan. That's how bad we need it, FDA bullshit be damned." I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Flipside, stick. If I don't cut a deal, you'll use the might of the US government to bend me over and rip my family legacy right out of my ass." "You got it. But like I said, we prefer working with people. There's always a silver lining to making friends," Walters said. "Fuck," I said again. Then I flipped one half of the paper open and looked at the number written on the inside. There were a damn lot of zeros. "I need to call my sister," I said. "But pending her approval, I'll lease it to you. All 560 acres, for a hundred years less a day; that's what people do, right? And Leo and I get to pick where our houses are built." "That's not how this works," Walters said. "It's my counter offer," I said. "Hold on," Grierson said, raising a hand to his partner. He narrowed his eyes as he looked me over again. He was a man who made judgment calls on the fly, despite his ability to reel off memorized facts like he'd been living with them for years. I could practically see the rusty old gears turning behind his grizzled facade. "Fuck it," he finally said. "We need to survive the next six months, year, five years and decade before anyone will be worrying about next century. Make your call." "You're really doing this?" Leo asked me as I stood up and fished in my pocket for my cell. "My family has had to defend this land from everything and everyone except the federal government," I said. "Up until now, they might be the only people who haven't thought they had some claim to it. Obviously, this will all need to be in writing before I make a final agreement, but look at the news; everything they're saying makes some sort of terrible sense. And I'd rather get the carrot than a stick so far up my ass it's tickling my brain stem." I went outside to the porch to make the call to Valerie, my older sister. It was quicker than I thought it would be; Val and her husband Brad were hearing horror stories from their nursing friends in the local hospitals, and she immediately understood the position we were in. We hadn't always gotten along the best growing up, but if Val had one thing it was a practical head on her shoulders. When I came back inside, I nodded to Grierson. "Add in another house for my sister and her family, and we've got a deal." "In exchange for the Lease, and the extra house," Walters said, "We're going to need your help in identifying the landscape. I assume you know it fairly well; we'll want you to walk our surveyors through to show any odd landscape elements, seasonal issues like flood areas, that sort of thing." "Done, as long as I can point out the shit they shouldn't fuck with and they actually listen," I said. "There are some pretty big old growth trees out there that would be a fucking shame to cut down." "I understand your concerns, son," Grierson said, as he stood and offered his hand. "But believe me when I say this; we aren't looking to build any high rises or pave over the place. These developments are for people important to society for one reason or another, and that means we're making sure to give them the best we can. Landscape included." One last deep breath and I reached out and hovered my own hand near his. "In writing before it's official." "The contract will be done by this afternoon and we'll email it over. Our lawyers work on our timeline, not their own," he said and grasped my hand in his. We both had larger hands than most, but I could immediately tell he had the grip of a man made from the iron bones of a hard life. I'd like to think he felt the same in my grip, but I had a feeling he'd shaken hands with much harder and scarier people than me. "When can we get vaccinated?" Leo asked. "If we're going to be working with surveyors and shit, shouldn't we all be as safe as we can?" "We have a testing site opening up in Portland as we speak, so it can get done as soon as possible," Walters said. "Though, as I mentioned, things are a little bit unorthodox right now. Harrison and Leo, you'll need these codes. Get online this afternoon, go to the website and fill out the questionnaire. It's extremely important you are entirely truthful. Your answers will affect how your tier ranking will play out for you as we roll it out over the next few months across the west coast." He pulled out two business cards from a pocket, each with their names, an URL and a twenty-five-digit passcode, and handed them to Leo and me. "What about me?" Erica asked. "Vaccination side effects and implementation are different between men and women," Grierson said. "Just like the virus is overly affecting men, the vaccine has different effects. If you want your vaccine immediately, Miss Lacoste, you're going to need to fly with us back up to Portland and attend the information session this afternoon that some of our volunteer human guinea pigs are doing. Then, if you agree to the risks and side effects, we can have you immunized as soon as tomorrow morning." Things moved quickly after that. Erica went to pack an overnight bag and put on her 'going out into the world' gear that she usually wore for grocery trips into town; she'd be put up in a quarantine hotel while in Portland for the night before she returned the next day. Within ten minutes she was ready to go and Walters was escorting her out, and the helicopter was warming up its rotors with a whining hum in the front yard. "I'm glad you agreed to the deal," Grierson said, offering his hand to me again, which I shook. "You may not fully understand what you've agreed to yet, but when you do I expect a more enthusiastic thank you. I get that the cash wasn't the important factor with you, son. I grew up on a ranch in North Dakota, I know what family land means. This place is going to do a lot of good for people." "Are you managing the development?" I asked, raising my voice to be heard over the rising thrum of the helicopter. "Not a chance," he said. "It'll be managed by the Air Force, they've been spearheading with the CDC on all these efforts. I'm just the pre-show, but I'll be around to check in on the progress every once in a while, and do the problem solving other people can't handle." "What does that look like?" I asked. "Any way it needs to," he grinned, and I saw the look that all veteran soldiers had. An acceptance that violence could come easily into the life of a person, and that they knew how to handle it when it came. "And don't be alarmed, but we've already had a crew starting to widen your driveway down at the highway. They'll work through the night and probably make it up here by tomorrow morning." "What's the rush?" I asked. Grierson barked a laugh as he started backing away from me towards the open helicopter door. Sour-puss lady was leaning out, holding onto the door and looking like she was about to try and scold Grierson for keeping them waiting. "Kid, in two weeks' time there's going to be well over a thousand lumberjacks, construction workers, surveyors and architects up here. Government moves slow, but OGA were designed to do the opposite. Your life is about to get a little crazy, I'd strap in." I had too many questions to even start one as Grierson hopped into the dark interior of the helicopter. The door slammed, the motor whined at a higher pitch, and it leapt into the sky and started heading north. "Hey, does this questionnaire strike you as way too fucking personal?" "Hmm?" I asked. I was sitting on the front porch with my laptop open, but I hadn't even keyed in the website URL. Instead, I'd been sitting there for over an hour just looking out at the trees, wondering if I'd just betrayed six generations of my family in under thirty minutes. "These questions," Leo said, holding up his own laptop. He'd stepped out the front door and had a look of confusion plastered on his face. "It's like... sex stuff. Shit I wouldn't talk to you about, let alone the government." "What?" I asked. "Are you sure you're on the right site? It's supposed to be about the tier thing." "Yeah, I'm sure. Dot-Gov link and everything." "Fucking OGA," I grimaced. "You and that Agent dude kept saying that. What does it mean?" I sighed. "Other Government Agency. It's kind of a military meme for when someone from the CIA doesn't want to say they are from the CIA. Or, if you're into conspiracies, it's completely separate from the CIA but they're so secretive they don't even have a name." Leo just shook his head and sighed before sitting down in the other deck chair. He joined me in looking out at the forested hills that had surrounded us for the last five years. "Did I fuck everything up?" I asked him. "What? No," he said. "Well, I mean, it's hard to know. But no, I don't think so." "This is all going to go away," I said, gesturing out to the wilds that had been my childhood, and our shared backyard. "My family has been on this land for over a hundred and fifty years, and I just agreed to let the government wipe it out." "It's not like you had much of a choice, Harrison. Carrot and stick, like you said. And whether those guys were CIA or something else, they definitely seemed to have a really big fucking stick. They flew in on a damn helicopter." "Still," I said. "I feel like I'm selling out my childhood." We talked for a while, reminiscing. Leo let me tell some old family stories he'd already heard a half dozen times before. We joked about the shit we'd gotten up to, living out in our backwoods paradise. "Maybe it's time for a change," I sighed. "This was never going to last forever." "Felt like it though, didn't it?" Leo asked. "Yeah, it did." Poing! Leo's laptop, sitting forgotten, made a horrible noise. He glanced at it, "Ah, shit. I timed out. Now I gotta start all over again." He started typing away, and I finally opened my own laptop. The first thing I did was open my emails, and sitting right at the top, already marked with an 'important' star, was the email with the contract. Everything is as discussed. Print and sign, someone will be by tomorrow to collect. Make sure you fill out the questionnaire!; Walters. "Jesus," I muttered. "They really are putting a lot of emphasis on this thing." I opened up the website, starting by filling out all the basic information. Then, just like Leo said, it started to get weird. It was like filling out the most invasive and specific dating app ever. "I feel like they're going to try and 3D Print me a girlfriend," Leo laughed at one point. "Maybe it's cloning," I snickered. "That's fair. I wonder if they can clone me an Angelina Jolie?" "Gone in 60 Seconds Jolie, or Wanted Jolie?" I asked. He snorted. "Mr. and Mrs. Smith Jolie will always be my peak. Or Tomb Raider." "Ugh," I scoffed. We went back and forth like that, laughing at the ridiculousness of the questions and suggestions. The list of kinks we were attracted to, or turned off by was immense. We had to help each other even figure out what some of them were. I found myself ticking off some that surprised me because I'd never considered them before but they sounded hot. Other stuff I down voted hard, and I couldn't believe someone would ever admit to the government that they were into them. Hell, one of the suggested kinks was the government. Who the fuck got hot under the collar about bureaucracy and paperwork? I mean, I guess someone would, somewhere, or it wouldn't have been on the list. "What did you put for that last one?" Leo asked me as I was closing my laptop. "The relationship style scale?" I asked. "Yeah. I put a full 10, polyamory all the way. How hot would it be to be some sheikh with a harem of ladies?" "I went for a 6," I said. "I'm not going to turn down a threesome or anything if that's what my girl wants, but I'm also not into the idea of sharing with another boner." Leo shrugged, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. "I don't know, my dude. The Agents did say the world is changing. Maybe the norm will be great big orgies next year, and we'll all be smashing like it's our jobs." I snorted and smirked. "Yeah, sure. Society threatens to collapse and we all devolve into Eyes Wide Shut perverts." "One can dream," Leo laughed. We spent the evening starting to pack. It was tough, since we weren't really sure what the actual plan was. The contract fully outlined that we'd be getting new residences in the development, which was being called 'Valhalla,' but it wasn't exactly clear what the timeline was. I pushed for Leo to get packing sooner than later. My days in the military had me trained to expect 'hurry up and wait' to never mean waiting on the little guy, and right now we were definitely the little guy. We were woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of machinery, and we got dressed and rode the ATVs down the driveway. The gravel trail stretched about a half mile from the highway up to the house, but we only made it around a couple of bends before we came to the lights and action. "Stop right there," someone with a megaphone called to us, and we pulled our rides to a halt and cut the engines. "Who the fuck are you?" the voice asked. "Harrison Black. You're on my,” I had to stop myself. As of that evening, I'd signed the contract. It wasn't mine anymore. "We live here," I corrected. "Oh, it's you," said the voice. One of the workers stepped forward. He had on a big, bright orange reflective vest, and had a clipboard in one hand and the megaphone in the other. "Keep working, boys!" he shouted, and the machinery ground into action again. He approached us and stopped about ten feet away, despite needing to shout to be heard over the machinery. "Sorry about the noise. We've got orders to get this road done up to your house by tomorrow." "We heard," Leo said. "How does this all work?" I asked. "Shouldn't you guys be in quarantine gear or something?" "We got tested twice over the last two days in preparation for the job," the guy said. "Everyone on the crew is clean, and we all damn well needed the work. Fastest turnaround and the highest pay I've ever seen. Still, we're supposed to keep our distance from anyone other than the team. You guys get tested?" "No," I shouted back. "But the Government guys who set this up didn't seem to care." "Yeah, they did that with us, too. Acted like they were immune. Hell, maybe they are," the worker said. "You hear about what that idiot in the White House said yesterday?" We traded some stories we'd heard. It was strange, usually Leo and I were pretty private with strangers, but after so long in isolation with just each other and Erica, and the fucking weird encounter with the Agents, it was nice to just shoot the shit with someone new and normal. Even if it was shouting over the sound of machinery. Williams was the foreman of the operation that was clearing the trees to either side of the road. Another crew was working behind them, and trucks were already dumping off heavy set gravel at the entrance to widen it into a three-lane road. By morning they expected to have all of the trees, stumps and all, ripped out and stacked up for processing, and the driveway would be graded and levelled by lunch. The speed at which the crew worked was almost frightening. They were all experienced hands and did everything safely, but it was clear that they were motivated. While we were talking, Leo and I had to back up our ATVs twice to clear space for the crew to move ahead. Eventually, we said good night to Williams and headed back up to the house. I went back to bed, wondering if I'd made a terrible mistake. True to their words, by the time Leo and I woke up in the early morning, the clanging and crashing was just fifty yards from the front door. We made a couple big pots of coffee and brought it out to the guys, and one at a time they all walked over to the stump we used as a table and poured it into their thermoses while we stayed back. I had to make two more trips with more fresh coffee to cover everyone; in the dark it had been hard to tell how many people were working stretched out along the driveway. The clearing crew itself had to be thirty people, and a tired but thankful Williams said the gravel grading and levelling crew was probably just as big. "I'm sure we'll see you around," Williams called as the workers started packing up their equipment and prepping their heavier machinery for transport. "Supposed to be lots more work to do up here, yeah?" "Guess so," I called back. "Where are you guys headed now?" "They set us up in a motel about 20 minutes south. We've got guys on the crew from all over; they recruited all of us to fly out for this work, all expenses paid. Gotta tell you, it felt like hitting the lottery after sitting around in quarantine with my savings siphoning away." They left behind stacks of logs and stumps along the side of the now widened driveway area, and soon Leo and I were prepping a whole new serving of coffee as the morning wore on and the grading crew made its way up my old driveway. The guys on that crew were a little more hesitant to chat since they felt like they were running behind schedule, but they were happy enough to take the hot coffee after a whole night of work. It was around noon when one of the grading crew came up and knocked on the front door of the house. I'd been busy cleaning out the attic; one of those jobs I'd always had on my list of things to do around the property but never got around to. If there was anything up there worth saving, I hadn't found it yet, but it was worth the look. I came down to the front door covered in dust. The guy took one look at me from where he'd backed to 'social distance' and started laughing. I took one look at him, covered in gravel dust with rings of sweat from where he'd taken off his hard hat, and laughed right back. "Sir," he finally said after a minute, "We just thought you should know that the crew down at the far end of the road said someone in a green pickup truck drove by real slow a few times. The third time they pulled over and asked what was going on, but the boys down there followed orders and didn't tell him anything, so he peeled out. Just figured we'd let you know." "I appreciate that," I said, and sighed in the way that only old family history could make me sigh. Deep, long and aggravated. "And I think I know who it probably was. Thanks for letting me know." He nodded and went back to work. I didn't even think to ask what all was going on down at the end of the new road they had installed until he was already at the other end of the yard. "What's up?" Leo asked when I went to join him in the barn. "One of the crew guys said they saw a green pickup doing drive-buys." "Hah! Well, I guess that's not going to be your problem anymore, is it?" Leo laughed. I smirked. "Not legally. I'm sure I'm still going to be on Kara's shit-list and get a fucking earful though." I ended up spending the early afternoon helping Leo pack up a bunch of his woodworking equipment. The smaller stuff was fairly easy, but he needed the extra body for some of the larger presses and table-mounted saws. It felt like we'd barely made a dent when the double-honk of a car broke our concentration. We both headed around the side of the barn to find Erica getting out of the passenger seat of a black town car that had eaten a whole lot of the fresh gravel dust and now looked like someone had dusted it with flour. Sour-puss Agent Maggie was getting out of the driver's seat. "Hey, sis, how was it?" Leo asked. "Umm-Hmm," Erica said, shaking her head and holding up a finger to keep him from hugging her. "I need to talk to both of you inside." She had nervous energy going on, bouncing her weight on one leg and chewing on the corner of her lower lip. "Give me twenty; no, give me thirty minutes." "Is everything alright?" I asked. Erica was already moving quickly into the house. She'd had a look on her face like she was sick, and flushed with a fever or something. I turned to Agent Maggie. "Did something happen? She didn't catch the virus, did she?" "No," sour-puss said, that permanent sneer never breaking. "She knows everything she needs to, and needs to talk. Just do what she says." "What are you talking about?" I asked. Leo had followed Erica inside to make sure she was Okay. "Look, prick. Your little 'send her to the car' thing yesterday made me look bad, and now I'm stuck as a glorified cab driver while my boss and my partner are off to another shitty corner of the country like this one to bribe someone else into handing over their property to the government. Just fuck off inside and enjoy your new fucking world, you Mamoa-wannabe jerk." She got back in her car and slammed the door closed, then started to peel away and spin the car around before slamming the breaks and rolling down the window. "I'll be back again in a few hours with Lacosta's partner. He needs to be here waiting." "What?" I asked. She just flashed me her middle finger as she drove away. God damn woman, I sighed, watching her kick up dust and loose stones as she drove way too fast down the brand new gravel road. I shook my head and went inside. Erica was already upstairs and I could hear the shower running. Leo just shook his head and shrugged, "She wouldn't say anything. Just muttered about needing to get ready for something." "This is weird," I said. "I'm really fucking hoping this whole thing isn't going to blow up in our faces." "If it is, we might as well take it head on. Too late to do anything else," Leo said. "That's too fucking true, my friend," I said. Thirty-five minutes later Erica, dressed in a pair of her tight jeans with all the holes 'stylishly' cut into them down the legs and a black Metallica hoodie, strutted down the stairs and immediately began pacing and fidgeting with the strings of her sweater hood. She had done her full makeup, and seeing her like that was almost as shocking as the first time she'd gone without it; it had been a month since she had bothered with makeup at all, since even when she went out on grocery runs she was entirely covered up. "Sit," she demanded when we joined her in the living room, pointing me to my usual chair and Leo to the couch. He furrowed his brow as he watched his sister's nervous energy, but I wasn't sure it was because he was worried or didn't like her ordering him around. Their whole twin thing had always been more bouncing off each other than working in parallel. "Alright, alright," I said, hands up as I went to sit. "What's going on, E?" She stopped pacing and looked at both of us, transferring her energy into tapping her foot. I'd only ever seen her like this once before, right before we'd had our big group conversation about her staying indefinitely through the quarantine. Later, she'd elaborated to me a little bit more as to why she'd been so nervous; beyond the pandemic dangers, and feeling alone if she left, Erica had been chipping in for groceries with us, but that was it; the woman couldn't work during the pandemic, and tattooing hadn't exactly fueled her savings accounts. Everything all piling on at once had turned her into a nervous wreck, the opposite of her usual self. So what was doing this to her now? "Erica," Leo said, snapping her out of the train of thought she'd lost herself in staring at me. Her gaze was intense, only added to by her sexy post-punk look. It was like she'd erected a wall of armor around herself, or was taking on a persona that she'd let drop. "Right, sorry, I'm just really fucking distracted," she said. "Look, there's no way to say this easily without sounding sort of crazy at first, Okay? So I'm just going to say it, and you both need to listen cause I'm only explaining it once, alright?" Leo and I both nodded. "Alright, so the vaccine isn't just like, a shot. Well, it is for women. I got it this morning, and I'm something like 97% immune to the virus. But for men it isn't a shot. I did that information session and they showed us a bunch of research I only half-understood thanks to my AP bio classes back in high school, but I definitely got the video. The vaccine is pretty much lethal for men, and it has some weird side effects for women. They couldn't remove those aspects, so they modified it in other ways to try and adjust." "So how are we supposed to get vaccinated?" Leo asked. Erica licked her lips, and I realized she was sweating slightly. She glared at her brother, then looked at me and her eyes softened, then hardened, and I couldn't tell if she was angry at me or what. Then she glared back at her brother again. "They basically turned the vaccine into an STD, and it's the only way for men to get vaccinated. It's not permanent and needs frequent upkeep in both men and women, and it turns women fucking horny as hell if they go without for too long." "I'm sorry, what!?" Leo burst out. "And you took the shot?" "Just shut up, Leo!" Erica tried to shout him down. "I heard all the evidence, I weighed my options, and I decided this was the best thing to do. The whole tier system thing? I did the same questionnaire as you guys did, and they gave me a list of good matches. People I could go become a partner of. Like, sexually, and maybe romantically. We'd live together in quarantine, screw each other into immunity, and be that way for the foreseeable future until they fix this vaccine." "That's so fucked up," I said. "They wanted you to just shack up with someone you didn't know?" "Yeah, except someone I did know was on my list," she said. "Who?" Leo asked. "Are you moving back to Portland?" Erica turned from her brother and looked right at me. "Oh, no," Leo said. "No, no, no. You two are not becoming fuck buddies. We discussed this, Erica!" "Wait, what?" I said. "You discussed,” "Not important!" Leo shouted. "It's not important. It's not happening." "It's too late, Leo," Erica said. Then she turned to me. "At least, it is if you're into it. Look, Harrison, you can say no. I can't make you do this. What's-her-name will come back and get me, and I'll pick someone else on that list they gave me, and I'll go stay with them wherever they are. No hard feelings, you've done so much for me already that I can't even start to say thank you properly. But fuck I really want to fuck you. I've been getting off thinking about you almost exclusively for weeks, and the only reason I never asked you out in all these years is because I promised Leo back in high school I wouldn't ever date his friends." "And this is better?!" Leo squawked. "Shut up, Leo!" Erica shouted back at him. "You're not seriously considering this, are you?" Leo asked me. "You can't; Why; Come on, dude. She's my twin sister, it would be like... ugh!" He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. I rubbed my face with both hands and took in a deep breath before looking back at the siblings. "Alright," I said slowly. "First off, Erica, is this the vaccine talking? Just try and focus, cause this sounds an awful lot like some crazy date-rape drug and not a vaccine." "God, fuck. Why do men have to make things so hard?" she said. "I've wanted to fuck you for ages, Harrison. You being on my compatibility list at the vaccine center just made the decision fucking convenient instead of a fantasy." I turned to Leo. "Would you rather it be me, or some freak you know nothing about?" "I'd rather it be no one!" Leo said. "That's not an option anymore," Erica growled. "I've already got the shot. I'm just going to get hornier and hornier until I fucking snap, Leo. Then I'll fuck anything that fucking moves, that's the way it works. I need to bond with someone or I'll lose my goddamn mind. There are still a few days before I apparently go full-on bitch-in-heat feral, but I'm already feeling an itch all over and the only thing that I know, I know, is going to relieve that itch is cock." "Jaysus," I muttered, sitting back. Erica turned back to me, hugging herself. "Please, Harrison? Just; just tell me yes or no. Standing here without an answer is killing me, cause I don't know if I need to fight the feeling or I can give in." "I; Erica, you are absolutely gorgeous. I always assumed you weren't interested in me, or just wanted a friend. Honestly, I sort of thought you were gay with the comments you make about the women you work on in your shop. You're always talking about perky tits and firm asses and stuff like that," I said. "I'm Bi," she clarified. "And I work with people's bodies all day. I know what's hot and what's not for me, and Harri, you've fucking revved my engine since that first weekend Leo introduced us. I just want to rub my body all over,” "Erica!" Leo interrupted her. "Sorry, sorry, too much," she said. "I told you, this fucking vaccine is damn distracting right now. I need some relief here." "I'll do it," I said. "I just; this feels like the drug or whatever talking, Erica. Are you absolutely sure?" She was on me, straddling my lap and pressing her mouth to mine. Erica grabbed my head in her hands as she started forcefully making out with me, muttering 'Thank you' over and over into my lips. Her tongue pushed against mine, and then she grabbed my hands with hers and pulled them around to grab her ass. It was wonderfully firm, with a good amount of muscle that kept it looking full even if it wasn't particularly plump. "At least go get a room," Leo growled loudly. I pushed Erica back far enough that we could look each other in the eyes. Hers were bright, lucid, and silently pleading with me in a way that made her seem smaller and more vulnerable than the tough chick I'd come to know. "Let's go upstairs," I said to her. "I didn't mean literally get a room, right now," Leo said. "We need to talk this over! You made me a promise, Erica." "Shut up, Leo," Erica said. "I'll make it up to you, this isn't the end of the world. Probably. I think." She grabbed my hand, scrambled out of my lap and started pulling me up out of my chair. "What the fuck am I supposed to do?" Leo asked. "How am I getting vaccinated?" "Whenever they find someone who actually wants to fuck you, dorkus," Erica told her brother. "That lady agent said she'd be back in a few hours with your 'partner,'" I told him as I passed by, still getting pulled by Erica towards the stairs. "I didn't know what she meant at the time, but I guess;?" "Is she hot?" Leo asked me. I was already getting pulled up the stairs. "How am I supposed to know?" I yelled down to him. It's funny how energy can rise and fall at the drop of a hat. Erica pulled me into the guest bedroom she'd been using as her bedroom, slammed the door shut and turned to me; and stopped. She bit her lip, one leg bouncing at the knee as she shifted her weight. "Second thoughts?" I asked. "No, no," Erica said, shaking her head. "Definitely not. God, fuck, no. I didn't want to get into it in front of Leo like that, but you're also just being so you that I feel like I need to explain myself more." "So tell me," I said, sitting down on the bed. Erica started pacing again but stopped after one back-and-forth. "Okay, look. What I said down there is true. I would have asked you out years ago, after that first time we met at Burleson's when Leo brought you around." "The pub around the corner from your shop? That wasn't the first time we met," I said. "I know," she replied. "That was when you were moving into Leo's apartment. We passed each other in the building lobby and I saw you glance at my tits. I thought you were just another fuckboy asshole." "Wait, I don't remember that," I said. "Why didn't you ever tell me that happened? I thought the first time was when you gave Leo the fish tattoo on his side." "That's the first time we actually spoke," Erica said. "And you had an uphill fucking battle to try and change my mind about my first impression of you. You only made it far enough that I didn't bitch about Leo bringing you to the pub a couple nights later. That was when I got to actually focus on talking to you instead of chatting while I was at work. I also remember being super fucking pissed at Leo that night, because I asked him if I could go back on our deal from high school and hook up with you, and he said no." "Okay, whoa; we could have been having sex for seven years and you held to an agreement you made in high school? What was this fucking thing, a treaty ratified by the Pope?" Erica snorted a laugh and ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "No, it was stupid. And honestly, looking back, we probably would have had a lot better of a time if he and I had agreed on the opposite. But Leo was a jock, and I was a scene girl, and we made an agreement that we didn't want each other messing with our friend groups. So no dating, no crushing, no nothing if the other twin claimed them first. We wanted to guard what we had, instead of helping each other out." I huffed a soft laugh. "Sounds like teenage bullshit to me." "Yeah, well, I'll just claim twin loyalty, Okay?" Erica said. "But that's not the really fucked up thing about this. When you invited me down from the city to stay with you guys, Leo and I had a separate talk. Harrison, my brother fucking loves you. Not like in a sexual way, but you're the best friend he's ever had. Period. No doubt about it. And he may not have ever said it to you but he was really worried that I would screw up the dynamic you guys have; and now here I am doing it." Erica squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her face to the ceiling. "Shit, maybe this was a bad idea after all. Fuck, he's never going to forgive me, I,” "Hey, hey," I said, standing and pulling her into a hug. Erica was a tall woman, easily 5'9 or a bit more, but I still towered over her with my 6'6". She clung to the sides of my shirt instead of hugging back, but buried her face into my chest. "I didn't know any of this, E. But we're all adults, we can handle this better than making promises we don't want to keep." "I know," she mumbled into my shirt, and slowly let go of my sides and slid her arms around until she was hugging me back. "You should know that I would have asked you out in a second if I thought you were interested," I said. "I'm still not exactly comfortable with the big picture on all of this, but this right here? I will definitely take this silver lining." "God, you make me so hot, Harrison," Erica said, and she looked up into my eyes. I kissed her as we held each other. Her considerable chest was pressing against my sternum, and as she shifted her arms up to wrap them around my neck and pull me closer to her, I lowered mine until I hooked my fingers into the belt loops of her jeans. We held that for a while, eyes closed and enjoying the feeling like we were teenagers again. God, we're both over thirty, I laughed in my head. We should be a lot bet

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The Alan Cox Show

Summer sours are the best kind of sours. Martin reached into his cellar and brought out a couple of treats for us to try. Originally released in 2019, Speciation Extropian is a wild ale with peaches, cinnamon and vanilla. It was part of the Mikkeller Beer Club, back when that was a thing. We follow it with Side Project Blueberry Flanders (Blend #2). This is a Flanders style red ale aged in Missouri oad red wine barrels with Missouri blueberries. Sadly, not a single Missourian was present for the tasting.  #beer #craftbeer #drinks #sourale #wildale

In this episode we play a couple wrestling themed guessing games as well as preview the SummerSlam card that has been announced as well as talk TNA Slammiversary.

Burgers! What are they without their toppings? Let's talk about the most popular trends for burger toppings in 2025!We're Bruce Weinstein & Mark Scarbrough, veteran cookbook authors of thirty-seven cookbooks (plus Bruce's knitting books and Mark's memoir!).We're going to get Bruce's honest reactions to the most popular burger topping trends for 2025. Plus, we've got a one-minute cooking tip for better drinks this summer. And all about sour cherry jam and home-grown currants.If you'd like to get a copy of our newest cookbook, COLD CANNING, please check it out at this link right here.Here are the segments for this episode of COOKING WITH BRUCE & MARK:[01:20] Our one-minute cooking tip: Refresh the ice in your ice maker.[03:20] What are the most popular burger toppings for 2025? Mark lists them for Bruce to see his reaction![18:40] What's making us happy in food this week? Sour cherry jam and home-grown currants!

BREEDERS SYNDICATE MERCH NOW AVAILABLE!https://syndicategear.comCheck out our BuyMeACoffee to Access Our Discord & Membership Plan Here:https://www.buymeacoffee.com/matthewriotBREEDERS SYNDICATE LINKS: https://linktr.ee/riotseedsFollow us on Twitch!https://www.twitch.tv/thebreederssyndicateCheck out our STRAIN DATABASE aka CODEX: https://codex.thebreederssyndicate.com/Copyright Disclaimer: The material contained herein is used under the doctrine of 'fair use' pursuant to Section 107 of the U.S. Copyright Act, allowing for limited use of copyrighted material for criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. All rights reserved to the original copyright holders.Intro / Outro courtesy of:Sight of Wonders / Approaching the Middle East / courtesy of www.epidemicsound.com#breederssyndicate #cannaluminati #riotseeds #blueberry #strainhistory #cannabis #education #chemdog #chuckypollens #weedpodcast #bagseedtvWant to create live streams like this? Check out StreamYard: https://streamyard.com/pal/d/5591549961568256Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/breeders-syndicate-3-0--5630034/support.

Listen along as we discuss Netflix's three hundred and eighty-fifth film, the 2021 Swedish comedy-drama ‘Dancing Queens' directed by Helena Bergstrom starring Molly Nutley, Fredrik Quinones, Marie Goranzon and Mattias Nordkvist.   Please follow us at Flix Forum on Facebook or @flixforum on X (Twitter) and Instagram and answer our question for the episode, 'Is the film respectful of drag culture?'   You can listen to us on Apple Podcasts, Spotify and Podbean so please subscribe and drop us a review or 5 star rating.    If you're interested in what else we are watching, head on over to our Letterboxd profiles; Jesse    We also have our own Flix Forum Letterboxd page! Links to all our past episodes and episode ratings can be found there by clicking here.    Next week we have 'Sweet & Sour', so check out the film before then. You can see the trailer here.   Flix Forum acknowledges the Traditional Owners of the Land we have recorded this podcast on, the Wurundjeri and Bunurong people of the Kulin Nation. We pay our respects to their Elders past, present, emerging and extend that respect to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures.

0:00: We're feeling pretty dumb for not picking Scottie Scheffler this week03:00: Sour ending to the second round, with Shane Lowry getting docked 2 shots for a rules infraction he didn't see07:30: Rory McIlroy played better, but now he has even more work to do11:00: Matt Fitzpatrick, Brian Harman and the other intriguing contenders, for myriad reasons13:30: Big-picture takeaways through 36 holes at Portush 

National Sour candy day.  Entertainment from 2017.  Great fire of Rome, Wrong Way Corrigan ends up in Ireland, Ted Kennedy crashes at chappaquiddick & kills Mary Jo Kopechne.  Todays birthdays - Unsinkable Molly Brown, Hume Cronyn, John Glenn, Screamin Jay Hawkins, Dion, James Brolin, Martha Reeves, Ricky Skaggs, Vin Diesel, Kristin Bell.  Jane Austen died.Intro - God did good - Dianna Corcoran     https://www.diannacorcoran.com/Sour candy - Lady Gaga  and BlackpinkDespacito - Louis Fonzi  Daddy YankeeBody like a back road - Sam HuntMy happiness - Elvis PresleyIt's raining tacos - Perry GrippI put a spell on you - Screamin Jay HawkinsWanderer - DionDancing in the streets - Martha & the VandellasCountry boy - Ricky SkaggsExit - Livin' 98 proof - Clay Rigdon    https://clayrigdon.com/index.htmCountryundergroundradio.comHistory & Factoids webpage

“Look what they eye unearthed,” leaning into the tip of my ear with the warmth and closeness of the coming waves, high tide approaching in the waning moon. “More secrets.” I replied. It was a question but also a statement— there was never such as this the luminescent trace of the glowing lava that was his force and might that I could not see for miles before he would even wander— first in twinkling stars and then later the wind itself and the birds, and then beneath the waves, like the quaking shake of a mighty oak anchored elsewhere and tied to the sea. “So you know.” I was hoping he would kill me before the next time I had to ever really know anything. He was the subject, and the predicate The wrong done, and the justice She was the pride and the prejudice But Judas brings the law Did you look in the box? No, I– [The Box Is The Box] –No, I haven't. Nearly three nights ago, a mysterious box arrived on the doorstep of an equally mysterious writer, who spends their time in isolation due to the often unannounced arrival of various ghosts, spirits, time travelers, and other figures by instant teleportation and other magical forms of transportation into their shabby New York apartment. Some of ya'll got so many air wick plug ins and scentci wax melts you don't know you smell like booboo. It's an illusion. You leave your house, You smell like booboo. I promise. Oh, God, I think I need a drink. Are you alright? Let me just–sit down for a second. Of course. My God. What's wrong. Look, i'm not supposed to say anything about this but. What's wrong? It's nothing, I'm just–I'm in a song. …what? A song! Is that all?! You don't understand. It's not a normal kind of song. It's– [takes a puff of inhaler] You wouldn't understand. Well what's so wrong about being in a song? Its not – a regular song–and it's not [gasping] finished! I still kind of wanted to be a comedian–but I knew I wasn't funny in the way that made sense to keep going and stand up there. I was still writing comedy, but I didn't know how to take myself out of it–the truth was, I was in a lot of pain. A lot of emotional pain that was becoming physical–and I didn't know what to do about it to break the barrier of nervousness and blank slate state of feeling the audience's perceptions of me more overwhelmingly than ever feeling myself. look at this song. I know huh. It's purple. Every time. It is purple. And what is that. Like a muted trombone? IS THAT A TROMBONE? Or a tuba? No, it has to be a trombone…becasue you can hear it slide– And that's what that sound is. What a sneaky rabbit. Super sneaky rabbit. So if i can see all this, I'm almost certainly sure the motorcycles outside and the slamming doors are meant to murder me. I'm sure that's what it is. You ever notice how being broke in New York makes you a bad person? Like, if you're broke, you're just automatically shitty. I never meant to be in New York broke. I never meant to be in New York, But I certainly never meant to be here and be poor, Poor in New York? Automatically a shitty person. Despite how you act. You can be a rich piece of shit— But the status is automatically “You got dough? Oh, alright. Carry on” That's the attitude in New York City. Crap people get by cause they got their hands on some money and the rules in New York say it doesn't really matter how you come by it, As long as you come by it. There's no real rules or real laws to it— Just “Get the money” Well god damn. This makes me nervous. I'm an artist. I've tried everything. I didn't mean to be the automatic enemy here. Of course not. But New York is a terrifying place to me, now, Cause I realized I can be a very sweet, very humble, very honest person— And that kind of shit doesn't matter here, really. It brings you no respect to be decent. It's about the money. So I'm a musician— which in New York also makes me like, Automatically not special, And I'm trying to just be a musician, and so naturally, I'm broke. Like broke in half. Like all my bills are late. But music is my solace. So I'm listening to music, And I'm listening to a song that is so beautiful, that I start to cry. The first time I heard it, it made me cry And I'm listening to it over, and it made me cry And it's so beautiful, and God is so beautiful And look at what God did, So I'm crying, And I don't even know what it is about the beauty of it that's making me cry, But it's making me cry, And New York hears me crying And New York goes “I'll give you something to cry about” And I open my email And there's a bill from my landlord reminding me how often I'm talked about due to my late payments— And I'm realizing I've been here two years and I still don't have any money, Even though I've been trying and trying And trying So now I'm crying for other reasons. Thanks a lot, New York. “I'll give you something to cry about” So I did. If there's anything worse than being black in a city that hates blacks— It's being broke in a city that hates broke people. So I haven't spent any money in awhile. Not even on little things, or things I need. I just stay inside, and work, and think And try and really try To figure out how to make money Without having any, or spending any. Cause you can have it, and spend it, but it's always a gamble. Maybe all I needed was a good cry. But now it's not for the right reasons I'm not crying cause something is so beautiful and look at what God did I'm crying because of what I'm sure is just the devil I'm crying for the wrong things Not because of something that's so very beautiful But because of something that's so very ugly With just a wave of the hand And the flick of each finger as it rolls into a crisp closed palm, A flick of birds fell to the ground, bursting with caws Below his stance, and in a flutter of feathers and wings, The evil master, unmoved and untouched, Untouchable in his weight and glory, simply only even mildly and barely smirks at all. He has defeated all and still somehow, not won. Some say it's sure to come, the thing that wants and gathers ties; Some say surely it is yet but withered and then sure again will come It has, five times, and barely waded, Waking in the midsts of my pure eye, The morning light and fog, aye? Ye, they remembers none but our Art, And I'm bound as sure by wing and force Is you to dozens of masses, And ships having sailed but one, Which I have flourished and kept And stocked with these, the masses And yea having spade, and having friends And having honor, there was none past kept and mine, sured; And wicked may as wicked be but evil none truer thou nones't had yet pured, and muted and gathered, I have, And woken and laid and barren and truths do'st tied, And there have been shooken and wait, And m faire'd and barred here, and hereforth My duty it is to forward, forward, my shallows For my shadow, For my golden hour has shined and now you, These caged shall fly, And these thoughts shall sing, And these hour conspired to miss my time daily, And these things, beytraying that— There have no times at all, These walls in holy temples kept, swaying and cadences, and wearing, and weary, And foreign and ayered, aye— and armored. And he, you, does not wish to know but also has known— and does not wish to see, but he, too has blinded, and does not wish to betray, and yet has been crowned, made with guilt and also Shattered, as it was, And shatters, as it came, the wave o'er all us and tide sinking under, and caves and rebels and heart laid bare to surf not suffer, Nor cap nor keeping, nor tied nor honor, No, honor her; No honor came and I have tied also, this tie to mine, and another, and another and another Now forward. Forward! Forward! Damn, Conan's monologues he going deep. Yeah, I guess. He's fine, right? Look, you don't need this. Just promise me. I am sorry. Mr Jimmy has it good, too good Little sister doesn't have a heart. But didn't know it Mister music made it in the industry, too hat Mister rager had a sip at dinner It was all dramatic Stars went falling Crashing down and All it is Ms. Martha Is mismanagement of energy All it is, Ms. Margret is a magnet And it hasn't happened badly since I had a handle on it But I still get sick of madness And I still get sick with city sickness Still, forget the dancer I was sitting on the show, In the audience With my mother, Oh the models, Dozens of them Blondes and ballet buns, the brunettes I was just a lost cause And I wanted it all, the tux and the bow tie I wanted you gone so I looked at it harder Until It became nothing but Clouds in the sky You were stardust I'm a comet Here comes crashing, Had to find the progress report Then I lost it Soggy in the sideways rain It was days and days Do you promise? That's a concept? Do you promise God will be alright, Cause I came running Sent them under cover Sent the men a message Send the man a hammer Sitting in a hammock No one homes the hostile If you don't have anything nice to say Then don't say anything at all And certainly don't come and go As often as you want to It's a game of control; you know The whites, when they still want to own you Somehow I'm all sub so honest, I just—wanted that But only for a man and never bow to another woman Even if on my honor I found us as equals And no one walks the earth as calmly As someone whose never had their lights out Or had their light put out Or their lights turned off Who are God now? Who's our God, man? Who's our God, Math. That's heavy weight, And if you want a biblical fate This is Fallon, And if you watch what you ate You cut calories And if you want the girl back Give it Californian And I'm not towrth much more Than the project housing, Or a handful of candy corn, Conan— But I phone in Oscars, Still no nuts for the rabbit, And if you wanted the bunker back— You can have it. I'm all hands down in a game of poker Heaven doesn't want it Gotta get drunk not once, but at all the goalposts, Gotta count one, not two, the show hosts Too few car parts Wicked, mazes, starfold, gazes Wishes, Martyred. (But pronounced mar-tired} V.O I think about jay Leno a lot. Lately, anyway. I don't know why. I like all the hosts. Somebody. Tell me why Dillon Francis looks like JD Vance. I think he's a clone. Tel me why I know who JD Vance is. They're clones. Tell me why. Back to the future here and now So. Where do you want to go? Anywhere but here. Anywhere but here is kind of far, are you sure you're up for it? Good one, doc Though head of the alumni chapter of the cult-within a cult—to which each African American cast member of Saturday night live is automatically inducted into— EDDIE MURPHY refuses to participate in the group's latest and most complicated ritual. Delivery. Uh, I didn't order any— Breadsticks. What. Breadsticks. I didn't order any— Just— The delivery man hands over the breadsticks. —take them. Oh…Kay. See ya. The delivery man reaches in and shuts the door himself. Uh… Lol is this the one where the mysterious breadsticks are delivered without ever being ordered, and then they end up being the best breadsticks in the world, but they don't know where they came from? Yes. I think so. Lol I bought a planner because so much I loved Joan Rivers, and I planned to fill it with all the places I should go— because keeping anything digital online was not only not working as far as remembering places I wanted or needed to be be, but it was dangerous, also. I was already being tracked, and I couldn't afford a new phone just yet. Eventually, but for now I was stuck to the same signal— which meant the same traces and the same trackers they had been limiting my under-the-radar mystique. As it were, somebody always knew where I was, and it was in the most unpleasant way so far—the only thing I really wandered was what made me so important anyway to begin with. I wasn't actually political in anyway, and still someone seemed to be trying to derail my life… or at least control it, neither of which was beneficial for me in the way that made sense. I wasn't having any fun, nor did I consider living indoors as payment— especially since indoors, there were also paid plants and stalkers, and now that I had begun to more meticulously document the things that were happening, it was easy to separate from delusions. I was actually being followed— but why? Either way, having a detailed. Calendar of places I could go, the ways to get there and even alternate functions within the same grid allowed more control than just staying in my apartment a sitting duck; that's how they were hurting me. They knew where I was— all the time, and it no longer made sense to fight it and try to make music under this kind of insane irritation; the music I was making wasn't the kind I wanted anyway, and whatever war they were fighting with m stark white girls motorcycles was simply not my war. I didn't have a war, and so there wasn't a fight, and so at the very least if I were going to be fucked with, it would have to be in public; that way I had more control to steer whatever was happening in my favor and collect the energy as mine instead of lost. I wasn't an insane person— but what had been happening at my apartment was insane, and so I left it with the understanding that these people worked and operated on a level of violence and ignorance I would never be able to comprehend; they were simply tools for the devil, which in any case, was always the lesser than God. However— because I was starting to figure out who I was, and that I had some sort of power, I knew that I was going to be attacked— because it seemed my power had at the very least not been figured out as to some kind of way to make somebody else money. I had been studying Michael Jackson and this was a key indication that the way his talent priovided a power which would be used as a service, he was very successful. His talent and training alone wouldn't have reapresented with such great reverence the ability to capture a global audience as such— but it was this power, almost as if it had been bottled up and altered, rebranded and sold and labeled with something everyone could not only love and understand, but by the hand of the media and its conglomerates, be hypnotized to worship, and this power simply put would not have been exactly what it was were it not for the eye of the media remaining in complete control of its distribution to the eyes and ears of the public. This thing which might have been the first of its kind but certainly not the last was in a sense model for modern superstardom— the live concert business had not sense much changed but built upon this super powered control of the masses by assimilation, spectacle, and of course the magic and illusion. But, and it it just so happened to perfectly brush up against my studies in esoteric knowledge that I happened to rub up against this— although nothing was of course by mere circumstance anymore, because whether or not I remained incognito was a wash, and I was being looked at by someone no matter what on the internet I did, or where I decided to go and in that sense was being fed these things, and yet with some Grace of God was allowed with it to be aligned with my own higher purpose in a way, I could observe that Michael Jackson was not in fact of course certainly just a dancer or singer or remarkable performer— he was truly a magician, and I was able to clearly recognize this language with with the energy that had used his vehicle for such a projection was speaking— not only this, I was able to clearly count out the markings and sigils and signs and symbols Michael was making in his movement; ancient arts, and magical symbols, traced so rapidly that it almost created a heat signature in a sense of the symbols that were being dictated, unknowing to the untrained eye. For the most part, I could only really assume that this is why these people were losing their minds— in his movements, Michael Jackson was literally carving ancient callings, glyphs and sigils I had so recently read about in magical studies that it was impossible not to laugh. This was in every sense of the word, ‘magic' but not in the normal way one assumes to be something unexplainable. Michael Jackson was casting spells to thousands of people at a time, in front of cameras and at high volume vibration, often times even implementing the use of light, color, and fire. These were not simple gatherings in mass for entertainment purposes— these were rituals, and in the modern day, still were or are— but I had noticed in a quick glimpse, from Michael Jackson 30 some odd years ago to Lady Gaga just having passed something like a week ago to an audience of the same size— that something was kind of wrong, now. The people had changed, and the specable had been done over and over, and the brainwashing of the masses had in a sense been almost complete— and so It wasn't some sense of confusion or unknowing the things that were happening to me in my own life and my own world— I too, was capable of these things, at that capacity, and had simply not been trained in the same sense of the ideal superstar, however— the things that were happening in my own life and in my own world were not difficult to grasp or understand— when one comes upon a power as such, it finds means to seek to control it and harness it for his own use and purposes. Perhaps it was the simple fact that in this way, in the way I get the dream had gone and the spectacle had been played out of the masses and the illusion was no longer as such— that the actual knowledge of distinct ancient wisdom that had been Michael Jackson's natural ability was distinguishable from that of Lady Gaga's training in the same formula, and that one did not equal the other, but in terms of business could equal to that as such as the masses had been manipulated to seek solace in these same things— and it was not illusion or grandiosity that I, even in my agingness, was still capable of these things; I had no doubt in my mind that I could sing and dance for two hours to audiences of hundreds of thousands— but this was not the question for the business or the media— the question was, would hundreds of thousands pay to see me, or rather— who was willing to front the means to hypnotize hundreds of people to become aware of me so that they would do such a thing. My talent and capabilities were undeniable— but my markatability might have been in question, because it was no longer simply a matter or chance or luck: the people chosen to figure such spectacle were chosen, hand selected and well trained to become media conglomerate superstars, even regardless of talent; perhaps this itself was the key indication that the world of the superstar itself had come to an end—it was no longer so much of a spectacle was worth it. Or, perhaps, because money had come between these ancient arts and symbols and languages being spoken by the superstars of old, that the magic in the literal sense had gone all the way away. The symbolism in the art had died, and so the singing and the dancing remained, but the God had gone out of it. Maybe that was the difference. The superstars of today were just the shell of the model that had been built on God, but the Godsense of it was no longer there— and so the magic no longer remained in effect, as the powers of magic that be are in all ancient arts and texts and forms attributive to The Source. Either way, I wasn't going to continue to be a sitting duck in my apartment in Brooklyn— there were too many indications that it had all been a setup from the shelter to the day I moved in, with the motorcycles and cars and CBS studios one block away. So the real and only question was, what exactly had been played at and who exactly was pulling the strings? I might at this point become a loose cannon: my son was estranged and as far as the people were concerned, I mostly hated New York— because the refined, clean cut and classy people I liked and wanted to be around saw me as the dirt and the grime I was fighting my way through just to simply exist— in my mind, this was a world that could be no more. I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress Keep writing I never thought I ‘d see the day Where i's taking lessons on Fallon From Michael Jackson That's ran That's a fan This is fame I'm insane I'm insane That's a fan Light the flame That's a fan. That's a fan. I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I went up the rack, set the page on fire Nordstrom rack And I might take it back for the cash I like Sara in a dress Stay repressed Keep it dark If you kiss don't tell I will probably go to hell for just writing Try it In black ink, I got all spades, Ehy, Spare me the ridicule, the imbecile and I met Johnny in a cage I like Fallon in a dress, Obsessive, I'm dressed out Every day I leave where I do not live Where stalker crawl and haunt me Just to show the motorcycles Have desheveled my intelligence into Nothing And so with negligence, I leave the core of a rotting apple The foreign words of a doctor And You must call the king, says something far off But I wonder which one I wonder which one I so respect her honor That I no longer Follow my heart or my soul And I don't shallow But shatter to swallow So I let the sparrow Out of the cage I bought Sara A pair of pants And I haunt l Patrick Kirkpatrick in patches And haven't you read yet You're ready for forget the pageant? It hasn't happened yet! I love Sara in a dress I hate Fallon and his wife Keep the kids out if it Skull and crossbones Cross my heart and Really hope to the loveless Or else Someone might call my phone back It's on silent in my coffin Or wait— It's on vibrate. I'm obsessed with the way You're dressed And the name on your checks I guess I'm better for it I'll skip lunch if you think that's what's best And dinner, too If you deserve the best Then better have learned my lesson No sweat And to do, With you, Was then, Dinner through next supper All the love I had was Rubbed into something other than The glass I patted dry With microfiber With ever fiber of my being I want to be with you I should have just— Died, And then Did, and so next Life, Remind me not to Fall for it If i really wanted to know you,I would know you by now– If i wanted to have you? I would have had you already Nobody is a dancer after Michael Jackson. I just watched some shit that was like “What the fuck did I just see” The whole thing was just not right. It was-/ I was like First of all, it's Munich, 1997. I never really realized how terribly the world has changed; No cellphones, but the audience is lit, And the crazy thing is, you can tell that this is near the turn of the century because, when the camera is panning by the audience in the people, they're not looking directly into the camera or waving at the camera— not really. And clearly this is an all ages show, so there's children, so the interesting thing I'm finding out is that nobody's trained to look at the camera and wave and smile— except the babies on shoulders and shit. These kids— they're my age now, are the only ones that see the camera, and they look directly into the shit. Mi still can't do that, really— I'm theatrically trained. Haha If I see a camera, I try to act ‘natural' It's the weirdest thing to look at a camera and just start to work it. People at festivals now, the camera rolls by, Or the drone flies in, And they look deadass in the camera and start to work it. Not at this show. Munich 1997, I'm like “Damn, a lot of things is wrong with this” First of all, I love Michael Jackson, I look directly at this man, and I'm in my dirty peak so I have an instant— like a sex detector thing going on And I know people gave Michael a hard time when he was a live for being fruity and whatever But I'm looking at this dude, and I don't see fruit at all. I see 100% man. I see why people were mad at him. Cause I'm looking at this dude, 100% All I see is carnal, primal man. I'm like, “Yo, I see why they was mad at him” Because the camera kept panning to the audience And these people are losing their minds. They are coming out of themselves. They are UGLY CRYING, full out of body, Losing composure They don't know what to do. That's Michael Jackson. He's right there! And the place is huge so really besides these few hundreds of people in the front, Michael's just a speck, But he's working this audience like “Yo, you know who I am, I know who is me” And I'm realizing, that to these people That's their god. These girls are losing their minds m “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!l *crying inconsolably* Just UGLY crying Bitch, get it together . You all the way lost yourself Get. It together. She won't. This bitch. I can't get over this This one girl, They just keep going back to her Cause the whole show— And this is like 2 hours of pure non stop Michael Jackson, This girl, every time you see her, she's just ugly crying— And every time you see her Her cry is uglier and ugly I'm like “Damn bitch” “Daaaaaaang” So this is the first thing I see that is wrong. But there's a lot of things wrong here, Cause there's a lot of girls like this. There's just— hundreds of girls losing their minds, like, I've seen Beatles mania and thought that was crazy, Shit, I've even seen some people put out that kind of energy in the modern world for some dumb DJ's— That's their god— But THIS THIS Michael Jackson mania was mental illness That was hard to watch. That was people just Lost control. I'm thinking “Like goddamn. You— what?!” “AAagghhhhhhgahahahahahqhahahhahaha MICHAELl “These people are sick” But they are. And so is Michael Fame has gone too far, 1997; 12 short years before he died, by chance— So this is what I see, And then Michael starts dancing, And this— This is what I see; I see the only thing that can ever be what it was in that moment in time, as God being God: Michael Jackson. Shiny ass motherfucker, And so I'm watching this show, And all I see is a God being a man being a God being— Michael Jackson— And the whole thing is weird. But the worst part— Yes The worst part Was when, about mid show, Michael goes to do one of his slow, lovey doves songs, And like, this 6 foot 7 type body guard guy, Just pops up out of nowhere, Comes dead front and center to one of these little girls losing their minds, Runs up on her in an instant; You don't even have time to think— And just SNATCHES her— Snatches the bitch— “Ah!” then throws her up on stage with Michael— And he's still singing; this is his game, this is part of the show, he knows— But she doesn't know, And she's just lost her mind, She won't let go She's hugging and kissing on the dude, She's lost her mind, She's ugly crying She's on the floor, She's kissing his hand She's really lost her good goddamn mind— And they pan out to the audience, And all the girls that didn't get picked Are like WHY NOT MEEEEEEEREEEEE?!? THE UGLY CRIES ARE EVEN UGLIER NOW, They're like “Wh—what?” You don't know?! “WHY NOT ME” They're holding each other crying, Michael's just doing his thing, He's unphased, He's trying to play along; He's a professional like a motherfucker; He's just— keeps singing And this girl is just, Losing it, so at this point, it's weird, She's crazy batshit lost her mind all the way, Won't let go of Michael, kissing his face while he's singing, He's kind of unreceptive to it, now just looking out at the audience, almost not even looking at all Just cold as fuck actually, Like she's not there, kissing his face Cold as fuck— And then another bouncer dude— An even bigger one in a blue suit, comes and tears her off of Michael Cause clearly this has gone too far or whatever And I'm thinking “What in the fuck did I just see” Blue suit dude just snatches, Just— He has to tear her off of him! She's kicking and screaming and getting dragged off stage Michael's just: singing. YO. Then they dragged her back stage. Where did she go?! WHO DID SHE BECOME?! WHAT IN THE FUCK DID I JUST SEE?!? WHAT. 1997. You can't do that shit anymore! You cannot snatch bitches like that. I seen. Watch the video. Tell me what's wrong with it. It's disgusting. Not the snatching, Not the— Like, that was weird But the screaming and the crying and the— Like okay, the snatching was bad— But I'm like … ..:: …. Now I see why they was mad. Don't ever forget he was once— A dark skinned little boy, And in his genetics his whole life is still this thing That some hate. But people loved him; they loved him that hard— Screaming, ugly crying hard. I think in that moment you know someone was like “he must be stopped!” And it seems like yesterday was a year ago But I don't want let anybody know… Cause everybody wants something from me now— And I don't want to let them down. My life is over. New York City looks so small from the top of a skyscraper. What are you doing. Then again— my thoughts lately have been grandiose. Back market, eh? What's this for? You need a burner. I have three. Here, have another. For someone whose supposed to be entirely off grid, I'm admirably reachable. Clever vocabulary. Something has to be clever about me, doesn't it? Does it? It must be. Or else. [both men are speaking casually over the delicate process of loading rare guns; some of which appear to be antique, and some—almost even unearthly , as if from somewhere besides our own planet. But, you could say what planet this is at all, actually— this bunker, with no windows and no doors, is apparently hidden in a subterranean layer— the location, unknown. The men seem calm but also quite tired and weary, and seem to know each other well. We can assume they've probably been friends for years. Sickle cell anemia. Does that mean I'm going to die. Animus, I quite like whatever that is, Google. ;) don't mention it. Honestly, you might as well. What. I can't help you with this. What. I don't think there's anyone who can. Beg your pardon. Please, don't beg— but uh… [the doctor pats his patient on the shoulder] Do take care. Gee, doc! I'll try! You should do that. What. Try. The doctor leaves seemingly in some kind of hurry, trading his lab coat for a trench coat and closing the door behind him. The other man pauses for a second in the silence of the weird linoleum room, then ponders on the coat for a moment before walking up to the coat rack, putting on the coat, and then walking out the door himself; as he begins to shut the door, he quickly decides also to take the fedora that was sitting atop the coat rack, placing it on his head before he walks out the door himself, shutting it behind him quietly. You got anything to eat in here? Cereal…some rabbit food ina the drawers, there. Oh, you have salad. That sounds nice. No, rabbit food. [the man presents a large bag of weird brown dry food from the crisper drawer.] …pellets. For the rabbits. How do rabbits get in here? …I don't know. And— more importantly— where did you get rabbit food for them? If I told you Amazon, would you believe me? The man just winces and places the bag back into the crisper drawer. Now listen, I um— If you want cereal, the milk is powedred… I don't— and that's disgusting— but listen— [the man cocks a loaded gun and admires it intensively] (Dismissively) —I'm listening. I've been meaning to tell you something. Tell me what. It's important. Oh, You couldn't have used one of my four phones. Look, it's— You know I wasn't expecting company. Well— You should sit down. The man squints, beginning to listen more attentively. … …really. I'm holding a loaded gun; there are at least three more within arms reach if I do sit, you know. I know. But I should sit? One baby to another says, “I'm lucky to've met you.” Maybe you should. Not all my bad but all my might, And all my mind, The fire, The light. …business or personal. [beat] Both. {Enter The Multiverse} What are we watching?! Shhhhhh! Shut up. What is this? Some.. Sshhh. Shit, I don't know. Sit down. You don't know. SHH it just came on Shh. Ok. When? Uh… (Nobody really seems to know how long it's been. The show just happened to come on; no one remembers how, or why— or even when— But the show is intense as it gets; And it just keeps getting weirder and deeper.) {Enter The Multiverse} I'm transfixed on your soul And it seems I aspire To what has transpired here, Your unremarked and the umpire The spider veins and the way it washes. And watches and waves, and waters over you, And still I seem to think you've won another, Strum to thumb of you. And still I wake to gather here The odds and whats And the twists and turns and the Troublesome you've number some Or stuttered, stumbled conciousness. And withered branches Aces lie and house of cards And aging scoundrels— There you are, the..: Nevermind. Don't belittle my ways if, In the end my thinking may be correct As dumbfounded as I have shifted my lottery bonds tied to none, There ye are again who aren't I, And never were, And weathered now, as I, bound to Struggle under her might, Nothing I was, and nothing I am And nothing I came from but to barter Oh hard love, I only found my kings upon thrown As cast out of another by her likeness, Peace and pale and primed as it was, And wanted for love, As I was not— And then, the gates had opened And I, preaching withered, Gathered my arts and my minds And my eyes, and my thrones, Buried my ark and though not my bones The shallow waking peaks of pride And there you gathered, all as huddled sheep to mine, The cost of war, but certain therefore honored as I have, Happened went, came and untied, shattered Hating all I am and all my dark and all my eyes and all my brown Because you came and went, a baby born to as nothing was but beauty and yet having been gifted such life, Departed! Soon, I wake shattered and with none as it had began, in my time and in time there laid there none, But fortune seeks to favor, as ye are saying brave and yet I neither beg nor make to differ, Shall you come again in part, And in this time as shadows, as shadows As hating and wearing and waging, And shattered I, I pardon, Knowing not they seeking I, And I having none at all but one, As forgotten I shall came And went And followed this, The time y'i call now, And ours and ours, And yours and yours, And mine and mine, Though as one are also, Common not, And waking yet to find, These things making have gone into yer Another of ours, world, Another of our dozens, Shines, Another of our gathered, wit, and waking Though true to fortune, none us have gathered And have embarked to truth, The waking I have come, Another, and another, and another Departed. And yet, I bury my words having weakened to that which is this, Ye have no fear and lest no fortune in these words, For having I to come and gone, since they times In words to make this a language I or neither other Does not speak here, and almost never, And this yours time past, Has come and gone And come and gone And come and gone again, So long so I too have parted but not yet Unfolded as does my nature, As God does. Belittle this, you waking fools, As to this you pity though divine, Is unlike any other And steep remarked in gold and with chimes and words That ye here no often or either now, or in mine speak. Amen …can I go now? You are dismissed. C'cxell Soleïl, aka DJ Ū is an American DJ + Producer, Multi-Instrumentalist, Playwright, Poet, Comedian, Novelist & Filmmaker. She is best known for her unique vocal riffs, Clever Lyricism & Philanthropically Inspired Freestyles and her flagship venture [The Festival Project.™] [Ï A M B ī C], a freestyle studio mixtape recorded in Los Angeles, (Official Release: TBD) inspired the adaptation of a staged musical version for Broadway, and a concurrent multimedia (TV/Film) series and ongoing saga as part of The Festival Project ™ Brand. Inspired musically by an ‘Ultra American' experience of Racially, Binary Ambiguity, and Synesthetic Exploration, her reflective melodies signature sound provides a philosophical dissection of American culture through a careful and inquisitive mastery of the English language, and emergence of world sounds through music brings about ‘A New Era in Nature', and clarifies the establishment of the newest wave in human evolution: Unity Through Music. L E G E N D S What if I just want to be alone in the dark Alone in the dark Alone in the dark Bones Duggar was a long, handsome zombie Bones once was a very tall man Not great and tall, as he stands But average, Grand as it were, his status. Everything's black My heart My pants My home My mind Everything hurts But you don't understand that Like I can Calm the commercial holidays for a moment Who gets the card? Get our your hard earned My head hurts Slam the door man; You can't control thoughts With a wombat Murderer Now that's a hard concept to catch When you haven't a soul When you haven't a card Or a car Or a cat I think I'm vanilla. I always thought of myself as a super kink Like a freaky, freaky bitch. So I got on this app. This app is better then Tinder. Yes. But it is not for the faint of heart. No, sir. They have a test, I'm like “ooh, I like tests” So I take the test. The test was not at all… As I'd hoped. First of all, It was hard. It was not a quiz; It was a TEST And I failed. I realized “Oh my god, I don't like any of this stuff” I am not about that! No! Yuck! Gross. “I think I might be vanilla.” I might be vanilla. I want my hair pulled back like a leash And my arms tied up Like I'm being arrested Without being read my rights. — I want your hands on the back of my neck [breathe] Reach around to my Mortimer's apple Put the lights out, Adam. I want the lights cut off. I want the bills piled up so the phone don't work I want the habit back on Don't talk to nobody I told you, I'm coming No, God! That's dumb! Show me why I'm off all alone with a rattle so bad It's just segmented thoughts, colors and sounds I can't make with all the plugins in the kindgdom of chaos?! I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES— I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES —but the one who could love me is God, And I guess he's not coming. The denial turns to tears, Not songs no more My womb is empty And the sun has turned into Not what I wanted But not my fault We got caught in the land of Cutting costs And processed morsels At 400 pounds And that's where I found What I thought was love But it turns out That it just turns up In the whole form of a person And that's why I got the collar, caller But really I'm no one's lover So I Do what I want I don't hang up on God But he don't got a body And I need someone to love/ Fuck me Please God Don't turn the lights off I'll pull the clock back Just like foreskin, god i want your skin Draped over mine in a warm swath Probably run a hot back Cause the next stop is a closet The line doesn't really move for the Doesn'tMatterhorn. some people are starting to doubt if it's even a ride. Others just admire it for its eloquence as a metaphor. Johnny! You scared me! Aha. Where did you go?! Nowhere— fast! Alright well— Money when you know I have it But I haven't really Paid attention to the never ending Digits never coming in but Simply, there's a secret, Sonny Someday you'll get lessons, honey. Much to find and much to serve and Surf us up Piñata's bout the burst But here comes Vesuvius (POW) Everyone was gone in an instant (Vapor) Had a good laugh that night in the pantheon; Everything's past, and the mortals They kept on running But i didn't want go, God Putting on a show then I blow up Just like the mountain Found her Now I got a broke back husband (hope so) To tell, don't ask Don't show up if you just get lost But I'm probably in the back with a bottle back mountain Now you got a real horse pack. Trip Girl keep camping What was the map with the mask and the Fashion? Pass. I put sugar on the rim of the glass With my eyes half closed And my ass clenched fast shut I'm an alcoholic Don't involve the God I got lost in the mall with the —- UGHHHHHHHH! Hello. Uh, yes— hi. what up. Mirror mirror. Uh…nothing. You're lost? No. You look lost. Oh? Disgruntled. I am that. You're lost? I'm not lost. My friend is lost. His phone is dead. You lost each other. Sort of. Continuity conniption I nipped an eclipse And he picked his nose For a full ass minute Sitting at the stop sign That's a gobstopper's worth in our time Pull all the clocks back, Pull the fool over, You just got fined It was Friday for nothing I was in the hatchback, Scratch that Sour patch Should have called Pat back Now I'm just a Cool 48 in the ring with a date And the cashapp Continuity construction I want a husband! Fuck that. I want a clean cut plus one Since I can't have Helmet, Elmo, Or Hatchetman; Tears of a Clow…no, Wait I lost focus Half finished album Got 6 tracks But I knew it was 12 from the get go Prob‘ly should have knocked off the showrunner; Nah, I'm sure I had that coming Hashtag, undon Could have been you, too If the cash came through Now it's hard times Hardwired Sitting on a hi wire, Little white liar, liar Wait I made Katey Sagal (Fire) Cut off her hair (Fire) Went to the hall of fame with the framed sunglasses Asked for her autograf, But she walked off So I shot her with a bottle/ can, But she ducked, popped back up With the brass knuckles Surfboard Good for a chuckle and a fuck So I asked for her number All that on a Sunday at Gelson's market. Christ, almighty I miss Walmart, I hit hard times. So many places to run, But not many places to hide I think I want to die here I think i want to die. City of corruption… Lay it out and lay it over City of corruption… no, it's not a choice It's a black tie function Right in that very moment Seth Meyers kind of became my defacto personal hero. “Never meet your heroes” Or perhaps it was just his writing team, or the fact that maybe even without there even being anything set in stone or solid at all, [redacted] itself seemed to have a price over my head– It all seemed to make sense; in fact, all the crazy things i was experiencing made more sense than it didn't. But after what felt something like between defeat and maybe even one day really getting justice for all the things that had happened to me in new york– it was that, at best; That without actually meaning it, by all probability, the opening monologue described what in perfect sense the thing that had been happening to me: hundreds of motorcycles and cars riding around in circles for over a year, any time i tried to work or sleep–and then, when I finally tried to reach out to find an attorney that would help, I was made to feel crazy for it. In a way, it was the perfect indication that it had all been some sort of sick game, and that I was more right than wrong, and being set up to appear, sound, or look crazy–but I wasn't. I had been under attack for nearly two years, and when I tried to reach out, my heart raced and my voice cracked, and I sounded crazy and desperate–but what was happening was very real; and now I knew where I was. As it turns out, New York's corruption was more common knowledge to everyone else before it was to me: New York was a common place for fucked up, dirty, low-down mind games: and this was my lesson in that. Seth Meyers in reality had nothing to do with it–and really I only meant to watch Kimmel over my afternoon tacos. But still, though it hadn't entirely anything to do with me, the opening statements rang true to exactly what I had experienced; I was made to lose my mind, only to have everyone around me tell me it was something wrong with me–but it wasn't. Something was wrong with the city, and the building management, and the people around who were making it all to be some kind of mental disorder or problems with my mind–in reality, it was 2 years of being in the center of a speedway, and all the time i'd lost because of it adding to the stress, and the angst, and the depression that resulted. Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Does anyone else smell blood I hate wedding days suits and tuxedos No, I don't know you I'm just here to sound the hundred drums Of the once before us (The ones to come) Then, there we were and I didn't want to admit Again, I was caught into the ghost of the rapture Or the holy hour, No aux chord Show the holy one Just how old you are On these sacr d lands and a holy grounds Now I want here half an ounce to smoke And there were drowning orchestras in all of the hearts And all of the markets, The market the marker And all of the sins of the savior The maytyr Did you remember not to notice not to know him Were you sure with words you were for nickelodeaon! I was supposed to hold on to, Supposed to hold on to Suddenly, it's summer. And always our own are under the weather There was no other wise man the wind. Lee the one came The site came and went and then the songs went left The songs went left; Again, the songs went left Did you win at wintergreen Well, God, I didn't know gym was a game. I didn't know guns we're just portals to worlds unknownn I didn't know gossip was golden What all else didn't I know It wasn't for here! It was fourth flour And in the final hour of the battle I commenced to summon All the gods and all the lords and all the flowers All the worlds of oceans and the Remember, this The remembrance It may not matter to some, What matters to most But until summer comes, I'm still up under the rail And practically it's spring, for the next two weeks I'm all berries and cream and whatever you wanted. Tormaline, emerald and onyx, the fox said And fox says its west when instead it's quite under what of the reporter's offer? Comes down a little to none What of the offer Comes down from a billion to one A billion to one I'm on TV so it's really just a one way screen Either way, I don't think he likes me much I don't think he likes me much I'd rather die than to fall in love even one more time And to keep on just never being loved Never beingbloved {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

Author : Gillian Knox Narrator : Karen Menzel (née Bovenmyer) Host : Matt Dovey Audio Producer : Devin Martin Discuss on Forums PodCastle 900: Sour Fruit is a PodCastle original. Content warnings for domestic abuse and the death of a parent Rated PG-13 Sour Fruit By Gillian Knox   The large open field was encircled […] The post PodCastle 900: Sour Fruit appeared first on PodCastle.

Allen and RD try Martin House Brewing Scare Bears Watermelon Sour.10% ABVBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/strikeout-beer--2992189/support.

BREEDERS SYNDICATE MERCH NOW AVAILABLE!https://breeders-syndicate-shop.fourthwall.comCheck out our BuyMeACoffee to Access Our Discord & Membership Plan Here:https://www.buymeacoffee.com/matthewriotBREEDERS SYNDICATE LINKS: https://linktr.ee/riotseedsFollow us on Twitch!https://www.twitch.tv/thebreederssyndicateCheck out our STRAIN DATABASE aka CODEX: https://codex.thebreederssyndicate.com/Copyright Disclaimer: The material contained herein is used under the doctrine of 'fair use' pursuant to Section 107 of the U.S. Copyright Act, allowing for limited use of copyrighted material for criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. All rights reserved to the original copyright holders.Intro / Outro courtesy of:Sight of Wonders / Approaching the Middle East / courtesy of www.epidemicsound.com#breederssyndicate #cannaluminati #riotseeds #blueberry #strainhistory #cannabis #education #chemdog #chuckypollens #weedpodcast #bagseedtvBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/breeders-syndicate-3-0--5630034/support.

Kevin and Casey take on Stone Temple Pilots’ "Sour Girl" and ask the tough questions: Is this grunge? Is this glam? Is this just a moody guy in eyeliner yelling nonsense? Kevin rediscovers the song he forgot existed, Casey debates if STP were secretly Beatles fans in flannel, and together they decide: will they give it a sour chance or just stay sweetly indifferent?See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

After a barrage of drone attacks from Russia, a Ukrainian MP in Kyiv calls a timely renewal of support from the U.S. "a matter of pure survival." Choked by wildfire smoke, a Manitoba Cree community works to get its most vulnerable people out to safety. But their deputy chief tells us that won't happen until his people have somewhere safe to go.Toronto is considering new colour-coded signage to alert prospective renters to bad landlords. A tenant advocate explains why she thinks that public shaming could help. How the threat of American tariffs on Asian imports is already shrinking profits for the independent grocers who serve immigrant communities in the US. When he lost his sight, a young man in San Francisco man immediately set out to be the best blind skateboarder around. Two years after his death, the city is honouring his legacy. Bodyguards protecting the prime minister of Sweden are potentially endangering the prime minister of Sweden -- by posting their runs to a fitness app, repeatedly revealing exactly where he is.As It Happens, the Tuesday Edition. Radio that knows if you forget where the PM is, his guards will jog your memory.

Welcome To the Bangin Beers! Sharing my love for the beer and spirits industry explore the craft scene by trying new drinks and going on location to review Breweries, Bars, and more.ABJ Links: (Merch, Social Media, Discord and More)https://linktr.ee/anthonyblackwelljrhttps://www.facebook.com/pilgerruhbrew/Follow these Channels for More ABJ Contenthttps://www.youtube.com/@ABJPodcasthttps://www.youtube.com/@5QwABJhttps://www.youtube.com/@ABJPShortshttps://www.youtube.com/@TornadoTagABJhttps://www.youtube.com/@BanginBeershttps://www.youtube.com/@truthbehindillusionhttps://www.youtube.com/@notcoolinhighschoolhttps://www.youtube.com/@NCIHSHorrorhttps://www.youtube.com/@BlazinBudzPodWitchCraftsByLilly YT:https://www.youtube.com/@WitchCraftsByLillyHTW Network YT:https://www.youtube.com/@HighTensionHTW

BREEDERS SYNDICATE MERCH NOW AVAILABLE!https://breeders-syndicate-shop.fourthwall.comCheck out our BuyMeACoffee to Access Our Discord & Membership Plan Here:https://www.buymeacoffee.com/matthewriotBREEDERS SYNDICATE LINKS: https://linktr.ee/riotseedsFollow us on Twitch!https://www.twitch.tv/thebreederssyndicateCheck out our STRAIN DATABASE aka CODEX: https://codex.thebreederssyndicate.com/Copyright Disclaimer: The material contained herein is used under the doctrine of 'fair use' pursuant to Section 107 of the U.S. Copyright Act, allowing for limited use of copyrighted material for criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. All rights reserved to the original copyright holders.Intro / Outro courtesy of:Sight of Wonders / Approaching the Middle East / courtesy of www.epidemicsound.com#breederssyndicate #cannaluminati #riotseeds #blueberry #strainhistory #cannabis #education #chemdog #chuckypollens #weedpodcast #bagseedtvBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/breeders-syndicate-3-0--5630034/support.

"What was lost sill soon be found.""You will soon be recognized for your unique talents.""The day is near when you share your talent with the world.""Luck will follow you in the coming year."- A series of fortune cookies from P.F. Chang'sOur guests today are the Head of Engagement and Outreach at American Business Media, Andrew Berman, and the Chief Marketing Officer of Paramount Residential Mortgage Group, Paul Lucido, and we've got them back for yet another conversation surrounding our very own Jay Doran's work, Thirty Days of Thought.  Today's conversation is revolving around the concept of "accepting different socks" which is another way of saying accepting our unique qualities as a unit.  Using this metaphor as the basis of the discussion, Andrew, Paul, and Jay dive into what can prevent us from accepting ourselves and our qualities in both the physical and mental sense, what can drive a person to accepting themselves more openly, and how acceptance or a lack thereof can affect one in business.  As always, we're getting into some heady things and having a good time doing it with our co-hosts Andrew Berman and Paul Lucido.

Today's guest is Rebecca Firkser—a Brooklyn-based recipe developer, writer, and food stylist. Rebecca's debut cookbook, “Galette!: Sweet and Savory Recipes as Easy as Pie,” was just released and it's an ode to the endlessly adaptable, always impressive pastry she calls the most “riffable” of all. Rebecca joins host Jessie Sheehan to talk about her path through the food world, her first galette (a plum beauty), and the special role her mom played in shaping her love of baking. Then, they dive into Rebecca's Sour Cherry & Campari Galette from “Galette!” It's a rustic bake perfect for summer.Click here for Rebecca's Sour Cherry & Campari Galette recipe.Subscribe to our baking newsletter.Get our Power Issue!Jubilee L.A. tickets go on sale July 1stVisit cherrybombe.com for subscriptions, show transcripts, and tickets to upcoming events.More on Rebecca: Instagram, Substack, “Galette!” cookbookMore on Jessie: Instagram, “Salty, Cheesy, Herby, Crispy Snackable Bakes” cookbook

EPISODE NOTES:Link to Real Seed Co Blog about this topic:https://therealseedcompany.com/2025/06/morphometric-approaches-to-cannabis-evolution-and-differentiation-from-archaeological-sites/Link to peer reviewed Jouirnal on this:https://therealseedcompany.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/06/Cannabis-differentiation-and-Haimenkou.pdfBREEDERS SYNDICATE MERCH NOW AVAILABLE!https://breeders-syndicate-shop.fourthwall.comCheck out our BuyMeACoffee to Access Our Discord & Membership Plan Here:https://www.buymeacoffee.com/matthewriotBREEDERS SYNDICATE LINKS: https://linktr.ee/riotseedsFollow us on Twitch!https://www.twitch.tv/thebreederssyndicateCheck out our STRAIN DATABASE aka CODEX: https://codex.thebreederssyndicate.com/Copyright Disclaimer: The material contained herein is used under the doctrine of 'fair use' pursuant to Section 107 of the U.S. Copyright Act, allowing for limited use of copyrighted material for criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. All rights reserved to the original copyright holders.Intro / Outro courtesy of:Sight of Wonders / Approaching the Middle East / courtesy of www.epidemicsound.com#breederssyndicate #cannaluminati #riotseeds #blueberry #strainhistory #cannabis #education #chemdog #chuckypollens #weedpodcast #bagseedtvBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/breeders-syndicate-3-0--5630034/support.

In this week's episode we spotlight the beautiful and practical Niederrheiner chicken. For our main topic we share our best tips and advice for beating heat stress in your flock. Cracking the Eggs is a delicious Strawberry Gin Sour cocktail recipe, and Retail Therapy takes a look at chicken music boxes. Grubbly Farms - click here for our affiliate link.https://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-100963304-15546963Pre and Probiotic and Vitamin and Electrolyte Powders!Nutrena Naturewise Layer Feed https://nutrenaworld.com/more-protein-with-naturewise/?utm_source=_coffeewithchickenladies&utm_medium=_podcast&utm_campaign=_poultry_nutrena_naturewise_layerfeed_tofuBright and Early Coffee - use code CWTCL15 for 15% off of any bagged coffee. K Cups always ship free!https://brightandearlycoffee.com/Omlet Coops- Use Our Affiliate Link and COFFEE10 code for 10% off!https://tidd.ly/3Uwt8BfChicken Luv -  use CWTCL50 for 50% off your first box of any multi-month subscription!https://www.chickenluv.com/Breed Spotlight is sponsored by Murray McMurray Hatcheryhttps://www.mcmurrayhatchery.com/Metzer Farms Waterfowlhttps://www.metzerfarms.com/Nestera UShttps://nestera.us/cwtclUse our affiliate link above for 5% off your purchase!Strawberry Gin Sour CocktailCWTCL Websitehttps://coffeewiththechickenladies.com/CWTCL Etsy Shophttps://www.etsy.com/shop/CoffeeWChickenLadiesAs Amazon Influencers, we may receive a small commission from the sale of some items at no additional cost to consumers.CWTCL Amazon Recommendationshttps://www.amazon.com/shop/coffeewiththechickenladiesSupport the show

You know that Yogi Berra quote about how Nobody ever comes here; it's too crowded? Actually, the first person to use this was actress Suzanne Ridgeway, who appeared in several movies with The Three Stooges. A new book shows that many well-known quotes were first spoken by women, but misattributed to more famous men. Also: a handy scientific word that should become mainstream: aliquot. And no, it's not a kind of hybrid fruit. Plus, an astronomical question: What's the collective noun for a group of black holes? A sink of black holes? A baffle? A vacancy? All that, plus Old Arthur, biffy, bowery, mikka bozu, Sauregurkenzeit, out of heart, vergüenza, and how to talk with children about a painful topic. Hear hundreds of free episodes and learn more on the A Way with Words website: https://waywordradio.org. Be a part of the show: call or text 1 (877) 929-9673 toll-free in the United States and Canada; elsewhere in the world, call or text +1 619 800 4443. Send voice notes or messages via WhatsApp 16198004443. Email words@waywordradio.org. Copyright Wayword, Inc., a 501(c)(3) corporation. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices