Podcasts about stop look

Silver Shamrock!For October, Will and Kevin (and special guests) have been releasing an episode per day as part of their 31 Days of Horror series recommending a different genre film for listeners. However, to avoid gumming up the main feed or spamming subscribers, the remaining episodes have been available FOR FREE via their Patreon feed. By joining their community, you get all episodes without a subscription, no strings attached. Just click the link, and enjoy: patreon.com/bestbitspodcastThere could only be one franchise to bring this series home and as Will and Kevin began the season with a John Carpenter/Debra Hill film, they end it with a John Carpenter/Debra Hill sequel. In 1982, Tommy Lee Wallace spun off the Halloween franchise into a standalone film with the Michael Myers-less Halloween III: Season of the Witch. It was written off as a misfire at the time, but today, it stands proud for many as the second-best Halloween film. It's Kevin's final pick and the last film of this Horror October. Happy Halloween!~The opening theme of "Stop Look and Listen, It's Halloween" is from Pete Antell. All episodes are written, produced, and edited by Will and Kevin.You can contact the show via bestbitspodcast.com/contact. Please consider leaving a five-star review wherever you get your podcasts if you enjoy this episode. It helps the show grow and allows others to discover it.You can also support the show directly on Patreon and get an extra 80 bonus shows like film reviews, commentaries, and our Mini Bits podcast by clicking this link: patreon.com/bestbitspodcastThanks for listening!Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/the-best-bits/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Life in these modern times can be overwhelming. We need to stop the flow of the world's junk into our mind. Look at The times we're living in and listen to the voice of God

Thirty more days to Halloween, Halloween, Halloween!For the entire month of October, Will and Kevin (and special guests) will be releasing an episode per day as part of their 31 Days of Horror series recommending a different genre film for listeners. However, to avoid gumming up the main feed or spamming subscribers, the remaining episodes will be available FOR FREE via their Patreon feed. By joining their community, you will get all episodes without a subscription, no strings attached. Just click the link, and enjoy: patreon.com/bestbitspodcastThe opening theme of "Stop Look and Listen, It's Halloween" is from Pete Antell. All episodes are written, produced, and edited by Will and Kevin.You can contact the show via bestbitspodcast.com/contact. Please consider leaving a five-star review wherever you get your podcasts if you enjoy this episode. It helps the show grow and allows others to discover it.You can also support the show directly on Patreon and get an extra 80 bonus shows like film reviews, commentaries, and our Mini Bits podcast by clicking this link: patreon.com/bestbitspodcastThanks for listening!Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/the-best-bits/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Rev. Dr. Tassie Green, Interim Senior Pastor

https://www.solgood.org - Check out our Streaming Service for our full collection of audiobooks, podcasts, short stories, & 10 hour sounds for sleep and relaxation at our websiteThis show is part of the Spreaker Prime Network, if you are interested in advertising on this podcast, contact us at https://www.spreaker.com/show/5139836/advertisement

Dillon Francis, I knew by now, was a very skilled sorcerer. I was fasting, and quickly shifting through times, realms, and dimensions as empty as ever as I knew myself to be; these days the shortest fasts seemed the longest—and by the look and feel of things, I was always still the biggest one in the room no matter where I went. ‘Let's see what this guy can do with half a moon.' If I had to go all the way to the dance floor to continue assessing my feelings for this man, it then had to be true that there were feelings at all—and there had to have been. Either way, I didn't care much; I wasn't expecting any outcome and at the very least and most simultaneously, I was there as a fan. I was, after all, as written, Dillon Francis's biggest fan—and though I didn't wear any apparel that made it obviously so, I sought to seek means to an end at some point for the saga I had written. I had hoped to potentially see Dillon's Kayla Lauren in the wings, as I thought surely for there to be one; it would be odd for any man, especially one that traveled as much as he did, to have two dogs of his own. Again, it didn't seem to matter, as I kept it in the forefront of my mind always that a man like Dillon Francis could have anyone he wanted in the world, most certainly anyone in the audience, If a world renowned DJ were ever to do such a thing as to sink as low as to converse with a peasant, such as I; at the very least, I would record, as always, Shazam, as always, and music mine as much as I possibly could, seeing as I wasn't there to dance or to drink at all, but simply just to observe; my soul acted in certain ways in this environment, and I wanted to know why, or what it was exactly that made it do so, quite unforgivingly. Still, there was magic in the air; and whether it was his, or mine, or neither I neither cared to know nor did, but knew it to be—there was just nothing to to do but submit, as I had learned; and rightfully so, as I was coming to him, it allowed him to assert his dominance, which I liked and needed anyhow, in any event. Allowing any potential anyone to become the master was a given; and though not yet at my beauty's peak of perfection, my sexuality was peaking enough for me to explore my innate attraction to him, as I allowed it. I wanted to be controlled, and so although it felt forced and always ridden with guilt, whatever had happened with Sonny had sent me through an infinite loop and then put Kayla Lauren on display at the worst possible time; and though rarely missing a gym day since, I credited my own perseverance for it rather than her sheer luck at the genetic lottery. I would never be a little white girl, and though at my worst they acted as kryptonite to my super powers, whatever they were—I still had whatever it was they didn't, and perhaps not the affluent white man's proper ideal, still something and someone at best, maybe. I hoped to see a girl he might belong to at the show; but then wondered of course who might stay with the dogs. Are you serious? Either way, I was going to write, and record, and align with whatever my purpose was—as regardless of how, it seemed to have something to do with Dillon Francis. I was fasting, of course, but it hadn't been long; I had fulfilled what would be my calorie deficit with a box of plant based Oreos just the night before departing LA full of grief, stress, and chocolate,'for whatever reason; I would have a vegan doughnut at pink box, I decided, before I left Vegas—maybe to make up for the one I had lost in the wind from the oncoming train just days before—I called it God's work, as nothing else could be so comical and devastating at the same time—but was also still craving a doughnut and, still fitting I to everything I owed that I had purchased in an extra small, very comfortably, thought to be allowed one, at one time or another. It didn't matter to me; the white women of the world were made to steal anything I wanted or needed; especially a Sonny or a Dillon Francis, but at the very least I could ease my grief with sweets and work off the stress whenever I was blessed enough to hold gym memberships. I didn't care much, but needed the processing speed of a wired brain and empty stomach to be able to compute whatever might be meant for me to grasp in the matrix; after all, I had once thought of Dillon Francis to be a computer-program himself; the most nonplahable character yet, but still a record breaking synchronicity or rather large group of them, now, in my book. .Red Hot Chili Peppers - These Are The Ways I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophies Maybe it's everything Love is But fucking What? God, I'm lucky; I ought to be I run a Fortune 500 Maybe it's nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophes (Don't forget the apostrophe, Since you'll be forging for me) I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing I should be parking my car in the lobby for washing Don't mind me, It's just natural distrust All turns to dust, And all comes from nothing God, I'm lucky I should be working on something (I should be resting on Sundays, the lord says) But take my time word for it, I'm the one writing it Monday Thru Sunday I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing ‘Just remember, that every girl you see that makes you sad, is the kind of girl he gets—and that's the reason for it.' , I thought to myself. As long as I remembered Instagram models and actresses existed, I couldn't continue to be hurt by it, but I was still, somehow even after 30 years, getting used to being the ugly fat black girl—and since I wasn't Lizzo or Megan The Stallion, I really wasn't anyboth; there was still no place for me at all in the world I wanted to belong to, and I was still as I represented as I would ever be. Maybe tonight I would use my two drink tickets; a sure recipe for disaster, as I had at least almost made it to the 48 hour mark fasting, If I was counting correctly. Perhaps a vegan doughnut could soak up the liquor and shame after leaving the encore at 3 am with nothing but a handful of words and some samples, and perhaps a podcast episode if there could be one. Dua Lipa, Hallucinate What happens after The Daisy swallows Dillon Francis?! Dillon HART Francis. That's a funny name! He's a funny guy. Sometimes. Sometimes. What was I to do? I just kept writing and had nowhere to send it; there was no pitch, there was no plot, and there was certainly no point. Enter The Multiverse and The Festival Project as a whole made up for everything I could have potentially been worth—which was nothing— and I hadn't a clue at all what I was purposed for; I seemed almost psychically robotic, remembering things as they happened within seconds, only enough to slightly offset a rebuttal that at any rate seemed scripted, but wasn't—at least yet. It seemed as if I was in a movie, but to any such ohaycologist of course this could have been considered mania, psychosis, or delusions of grandeur—or even— Dillusions of Granduer. I was funny too, sometimes. I didn't have to think Dillon Francis was shallow—I knew he was shallow, just as such with Sonny or any other man worth his salt, whatever that actually meant. But, just as I had harshly learned anything else, I was starting to understand why, as the smaller and more agile I became, the more I could do with my own body, and as such began to understand why men preferred slim and petite women. I was settling in well to my non-bianary status, and my celibacy—I could do more on my own or with myself than with any partner to date, and with the only human of interest being himself well over 300 pounds, I opted to keep to myself and simply observe human nature for the time being, rather than to take part in it. I wasn't eating, but for the first time in days I had slept, and pushing anything from the future or past far from my mind, I opted to remain present, and aloof; it wouldn't mean much to try to care at all about anything—the more I cared, the more the universe would subtract from my contentedness. Hear Me Now, Nicky Romero “If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.” —William Blake As if this isn't the greatest story ever told. I'm pretty sure that's The Passion of The Christ. This is The Passion Of The Christ. That's just blasphemous. It's The Passion of— Go on. I mean, it is infinite. Well, first there was infinite— —everything— —Everything. Now what. Oh, I know. What is it? It's The Passion of Dillon Francis. Why is that? Because, they're going to kill him. Why? Dillon Francis isn't in the Illuminati! Think twice before going there. But I've got a one track mind. A one track mind In a multitrack world Is a square peg to a round hole And a half-heart To a whole world And nothing's left but to give But to give is to get Just live, Try to forget that it's Infinite What's for dinner dear? I met you here, at the crossroads Like I said I would; And you said you wouldn't come, But here you are: A phenomenon Pardon my awful camaraderie Oh! I forgot all my manners Beg your hard on for hours, Till wilted, like later my flowers Oh, the debachery —better off watching your crotch, Than up on the cross, Like last that I saw you— Stop Look, I just want to watch; I just want to wash all the blood off my hands, From the Hog I put on the bonfire (Forgot what it's called in Oahu) Who are you? I died in a fire, you know In your eyes, Despite how I tried to avoid them They light up at night, sometimes No Divine or desire I'm just here to top off my tires, I'm tired, you know —better off watching, I'm novice Another day at the office, A shot gun in place of deposits, collateral Oh, I'm the asshole— I'm actually quite proud of it This is called something of consciousness, Writing a canon, But I'm quite forgetful; A madman, if you can imagine (Disasterous) Now you attack at your best, I'm un-vested Invested my time in unrest, Don't forget I'm just under your bed We mustn't forget how it started Intensive care Must be intense in the moment When you're Dillon Francis Ah yes. Leave A Trace, CHRCHES Tell me again how you're different; I exist just to wash dishes and watch DJs— I'm lazy; A patronage made just to let the white bitches forget all their privelege; In fact, it's a gift In fact, they're chosen— In fact, I'm just “Isn't” It's miserable Everyone Talks, Neon Trees | Three Pound Chicken Wing, deadmau5 | Paradise, Laidback Luke feat. Bright Lights Let me explain, How it's a vibration; I don't care what body you're in— It's all the same love, If it's all the same love, Then I love you I love you I love you, But I'm in a body It's torturous Let me explain how It's a vibration New word: It's Sapiosexual; Oh, I forgot how you Maddened me once, with your syntax and grammar Ah, now I'm sad as Hell ‘Might as well end it”, I thought to myself If looked as disheveled as I felt They would have stopped me from entering Even at ‘Envy' Let me explain, How I'm the villain This just happens over and over To poor Skrillex And Dillon Francis So much fame and fortune It turns into torture The girls on the rail A pecking order; Ready to devour, And be devoured by The man of the hour “ I might as well end it, then” I said. (But just for attention, I'm stuck in this body, Just rotting Cause nobody wants me at this damn party I've had enough of it I need some water and Probably a therapist Oh, ‘Stream of consciousness' There, I remembered it. Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) Uh huh, I'm no fun at parties [Three knocks on the door] I ignore it (This part is important) [three more knocks] Ought to be something, But still, I assume that it's nothing No guts, and no glory Nobody to love me Uh huh I'm no fun at parties Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) No wonder I used to cut myself “I can feel something” I once sung Now I just run; But— I'm still not small enough For somebody to want me I like to eat every now and again But— I guess that's my problem I just want someone to want me That doesn't remind me of Something i'm not But instead as in awe of my body As I am of Anything other than Tragedy Walk like an Egyptian, The Bangles I excused myself for the lackluster workout—after all, it had been days since my last real meal, and three now since my last solid anything; I had been happy with coconut water and alkaline, trying not to stay too far from the petite I was aiming for.; the plaid dress was a perfect match for the boots I had picked out, astonished that with the nearly 300-lb weight loss, my feet had also happened to shrink down a size and a half—I was dressed to impress, but prepared to be humiliated, and to top that—very eager to Google how long it would take me to get from XS, to Pink Box doughnuts—which was open 24 hours. At least I didn't exactly look like a prostitute—and, as an added bonus, might even could keep the dress for work or interviews; the boots walked nicely, at least for now, and I didn't mind the modesty, as I was already as out of place and forgotten as could be. Rather than opting for a coconut water, I stayed empty; not much was needed to do what I intended, which was almost nothing, and I hoped at the very least my senses and delicate nerves would be somehow put at ease. My iPhone microphone was sensitive enough to catch a song from a car waiting for the light halfway across the street— Freddie's Dead, Curtis Mayfield I crossed at the walk and kept my eyes to the ground, steadying my gait I into an awkward trot as not to appear to confident. I was right on time at the bus stop, and, within moments, not to my suprise, the 103 passed by me, even as I leaned against the stop waving my phone wirh the screen lit. “What a dick.” Perhaps I had fasted too long and worked out too hard; I had indeed left my clothes in a heap of heavy and drenched conglomerate of sweat and tears. I did have a headache, and didn't care much to return yet to my dwelling—in fact, there was something calling me out, and so out I went. Summoning a surprisingly inexpensive Über, I trotted begrudgingly to the WinCo behind me for a Pressed Coconjr Water—the world seemed to dysfunction a little too autonomously when I was running on empty, and with less stored fat supply than before, any triggered ketosis often resulted in a heavy cloud of thoughtless disability; I fumbled around clumsily, breathing shallow in the overstimulation of everything and everyone's aura—but that was exactly what I needed to see: Dillon had always glowed in brilliant shades of purple, but at one time, white—which startled me, especially because it was rare for anyone to glow that way. 120 calories of Coconut water wouldn't quite offset the caloric deficits Raul picked me up in a brand new Tesla, of course—which didn't feel like a coincidence, as nothing did; I had just earlier in the day been thinking of Lim Manuel Miranda, whose face was earned on the cover of a magazine as I purchased my coconut wate; I snapped a picture and hurried along to my whatever it was—instead of spending the next two hours on the bus, I'd get to collect the music from the warmup DJ, and since it was his job I wanted to aquire, it was probably in good taste and good fortune to support anyone whose name I didn't already know. As I arrived to the encore, my eyes were blurred and I was still a little woozy, but the headache was gone and replaced with an all-out bad attitude that didn't exactl come from out of nowhere. As easily distracted as I was, and out of place, I was surprisingly quick to lose self awareness; as I stopped to take a portrait for the festival project, security approached, assuming I was as trashed as anybody else hunched over the trash can—I explained I was working on an art project, and she seemed refreshed—I hadn't realized that how it looked wasn't at all out of the ordinary, remembering where I was, and suddenly, remembering where I was, I remembered the first time I was here, which had inspired the poem Red Velvet, which was lost to time and buried in the rubble of my endlessly infinite Google documents I never received my drink tickets—probably for the best, as k had been tempted this time to actually use them. My life was in actual shambles, with no direction whatsoever—and here I was, on the guestlist at Dillon Francis of all places, with nearly no other place to be. Maybe if I was vigilant I would be front and center at the rail—placing me back in the fandom instead of fiending for a reason or purpose any of this had happened. I'm not mad You're a man And an animal Can't help yourself can you you? Don't be mad at me I'm just a fan And an animal I can't help my attraction I'm second to last, Wirh my hand on the rail And I'm not here to dance (But the music's fantastic) Well, Dillon's front row is always a sight for sore eyes. This is hilarious. I'm laughing on the inside. Just, have a little drink with me. WHY DOES THE DJ KEEP PLAYING SIMMERTIME SADNESS!!! ITS NOT EVEN SUMMER. #SELFIE The club scene had changed much since the days of Red Velvet, but not much, also—vanity had always been the norm, but now more was allowable; at least Fat girls were allowed on the Dance floor without bogarting our way in—but now, the whole of the masses needed photographic evidence of everything; I wasn't in the least interested in taking photos of myself, or anything really hit the discarded rmknce of what had been a night of drinking and shenanigans, whatever the outcome; I never knew, but typically lately had made a habit of throwing away the trash after taking the photos for my project; tonight thiugh, something new caught my eye, as the warm up and caught my ears and I Shazammed every song for the taking—.Recycling bins at the foot of the rails—where, by the way, I had been pushed to front and center, looking quite like someone's Grandmother in my spectacles and too- long- for- the-club-dress—but I was comfortable, hadn't been given any trouble at the door, and, for the time being, was actually next to someone's grandparents. b€NZ (feat syaquis) Front row lit Finna get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We finnafight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shake that bony ass Like we on skid row. Yas Go ahead. Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shame that bony ass Like we on skid row. Where we gonna go In the morning Go ahead. The DJ's pace was picking up, so I knew that it had to be toward the end of his set—would I even make it to close—or did I want to? There wasn't much to see, but there might be more to write. I looked around myself, empathy giving way; now I wasn't myself, or anyone in particular—just a bystander in the crowd, drunk off the placebo of experience ‘What if this was your life every night for the last 10 years?' Uhhhh. I Shazamed another tune— What if this is your life for the next 10 years? Oh Fuxk. I'm getting too old for this. Or… just old enough. The night was moving forward, and so people were drunker, and I probably wouldn't stay at the front row too long; but I was right in the place where the bass hit just right, so it felt good enough— but you couldn't see the DJ's hands. Just so you know, When I'm bored at a show— I take out my notebook Oh no, You're not bothering me; No thanks, I'm not really lonely, I'm just Writing a novel Or album Or movie Or something “Are you in the industry?” The tallish blonde girl next to me asked, progressively more drunk than when she first had appeared next to me at the rail—the front row was now predominately female, which I supposed to be typical—what a life. I just shook my head and continued as I was. For the most part unamused, and even a little bored, as I always was at a club show. I wasn't behind the decks, so I wasn't really anywhere at all. Maybe it was the bass, but I had suddenly stopped craving a doughnut, however by 4 am I was probably just about going to be ready for one; Or half dozen, cause— And with a flash of steam and sweat, the man of the hour appeared, but I found it hard to lift my head— I probably should step back from this front row… The energy in your front row is everything; at least to a DJ like me… Okay Gerald, I'll get you a table— you can't tell anyone you're a piñata. Okay ?' okay. GERALD has permanently shapeshifted into a Human being. (To a hot girl) I'M ACTUALLY A PIÑATA. (Drunken hot girl) WHAT? I'M A PIÑATA! WHAT?! GERALD, NO. WHAT? She's drunk! So?! i told you already—don't tell anyone you're using magic—-or I'm using magic— But—Dillon—magic is real! You said so! I know that!!! DFR, Dillon Francis God dammit, I almost forgot about this album. No you didnt. (Shapeshifting) (Spellcasting) (Other Magic shit) Yeah, but I forgot about the album. Yeah, I bet SAVAGE>< Freek In The Ghetto, Skrillex No. No. No. Oh fuck, where is Skrillex? Oh yeah, huh?! OH YEAH, huh. — What the everlivingFUCK. Oh shit. WHAT are you doing? Just playing a game. WHATDIDITELLYOU— Oh shit, she's mad— Run, dude— Run!! OH SHIT. I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU Well— Well. Well, well, well— Suddenly, it seemed everyone in the front row Was alt right- and as always, all the hot white girls moved into VIP—it was a tired game; I would always be black, and I would always be ugly, and so it hurt less than made me think twice or three times who I was dealing with. I just so happened to look over my shoulder and be somewhat attracted to the girl behind me. ‘'maybe it's time to start dating women' …but that would never work. GERALD. WHAT?! I thought I told you— I know, I know— GIMME ANOTHER SHOT. What, Dillon—! I thought you weren't DRINKING! Gerald! It's me! I know it's you. No! It's me! Ū! SUPACREE?! NO' SHH! I'm Ū!!! Where's / Dillon Francis?! WHERE IS SKRILLEX? He's in your heart. Oh shit. I gave that to Dillon Francis. Well, then, you have your answer. Fuxk. Let it happen. Tame Impala Man, I love that kid. I love that kid. So what happened? It's a long story. —NOT THE TIME MACHINE —NOT THE BOX GET IN THE TIME MACHINE! NOT THE BOX—!!!!! UGH, not Dillon Francis. (Yes, Dillon Francis.) What's his deal?! Who's what, him!!? YES. Satan. Hm. Whats your deal with Dillon Francis? What?! I don't have a deal with Dillon Francis… What?! YOU DONT!? NO! Why not? Cause! Being honest..? The devil, being honest: (Psh) I owe him money. What!! Satan, no way. Yes way! Hod that happen?' Lost a bet. Damn. This set is getting good. What are you watching? Gerald's world The legend of supacree Enter the multiverse The infinite Skrillifiles What? Uh oh. What ñ 5) 3 time space time continuums just shattered CONFETTI BLAST OH SHIT, it just shattered twice. We gotta go. Where we going To the planet Which—ducking planet. The one with the ducks. QUACK oh shit. A duck DUCK DUCK!! DUCK—DUCK—DUCK— Damn, this game really has gone on forever— ITS EDM O CLOCK, BITCH—! GET UP!! Mmm. We better go. Yes. We better go ALI and AVICII are very, very drunk in Heaven. THEY FINALLY MADE IT?! —of course we made it! —We knew the way! But of course: GOD No, go back. WHAT ARE YOU serious? MARTY! MARTY MCFLY! DAWG, it's good to see you! Wait. What the Fuxk dimension is THIS?' It's the one with Dillon Francis That's— a —FUCK. Dillon Francis is in a lot of dimensions. Yeah but this is the right one. How do you know? That was the theme song for the TV show. What TV show? Damn. I'm fucked up. What! I thought you didn't drink. I don't I'm an empath. MEANWHILE SUPACREE and SUNNÍ BLŪ have collided in a para-dimensional reality OH, SHIT, it's ME OH FUCK—DAMN. Now what do we do? Drugs? Drugs. Yeaaaaaaaah. One More Time, Daft Punk My son's favorite song. It was the second time it had played today, and the first time it wasn't nearly as bad as the second — now i was glad for the cloud of cold steam, I couldn't hide my upset as much as I wanted to ‘'Just keep writing' Okay. They're trying to kill me With white girls, And memories And it just might work I'm trying to write myself out the box Oh my god And it just my work I'm trying to get lost But I'm all out of sauce This is not gonna work I see you went and hopped on the band wagon Somebody get that dragon. /$3/ Huh That's how much I paid for this You—what?! I paid $3 You paid $3 Yes. For this. Yes. I'm gonna kill you. Ū VS DILLON FRANCIS Uh oh. Here it goes. FIGHT. Oh shit. I've been waiting all season for this. Here it goes. KO. SUPACREE WINS. What. It's over already? This isn't possible. GAME OVER. What the Fuxk. This is insane. No fucking way #%%]!! Wait. What the fuck I thought it was Ū VS Dillon Francisz YeH! It was. What the fuck. So how did SUPACREE win? Huh. Wait, did anybody ever find Skrillex? Oh, My God. Just then, someone threw a Red Bull and it hit my foot enough that it actually distracted me from writing— THROW ANOTHER ONE! No, dont! Why, what's wrong? I have to take back these boots in the morning. Oh good, Jesus made it. What Jesus who! JESÚS CHRIST! What? What do you want? I didn't think you'd come! I had to. I thought you were on vacation. Exactly. Listen, Dillon—I have to tell you something. Uh huh. This isn't going to be easy. Chak Chel, what is it? I need you to listen. Uh, I'm kinda busy. It was at this point— Really, this point—? I had to stop and asses for myself what was really happening. I was writing up a storm, and it did seem to happen automatically, as it had before. I'm a looper Open the coupe up, Stupid, Who did you think I is This is the business Go listen to Skrillex And KILL YOURSELF Huh? JUST KILL YOURSELF. Ah, okay—but not because you said so. Listen, I'm finna spit this quick while you spin it Spit in it: clitoris I'm different bitch After this dinner I'm still in the kitchen With dishes, bitch Till it glistens While I listen To excision (I'm just kidding) Dammit, this is a lot of Skrillex What exactly did you say about Dillon Francis not being in the Illuminati First of all, the Illuminati isn't real. SUPACREE How did you get famous? SUNNÍ BLŪ I'm in the Illuminati. You? SUPACREE I AM the Illuminati. SUNNÍ BLŪ NIce. [Cheers] Hey. Hey. Anybody seen Gerald? … … … Zzz. Damn. Nodding off On the clock I'm on the floor, And yo this shit is toxic Turn the knob a bit; My foot starting to throb again I'm looking hot like Somebody's mom again Damn. I'm getting off On the wrong kind of drama This isn't long at all But it's all wrong, ya'll I dont belong here Lost My Mind, Alison Wonderland OHH THIS SHIT BE HITTING DIFFERENT It did hit different. Someone either vomited or spilled the rest of their drink on me, which took me out of my moment: the music was telling a story, at least to me—and I didn't feel like feeling right then, but it was all I could do ñ. I was surprised that I was still standing at all, Ugh. I don't understand my feelings. This was deeper than it seemed, bigger than it — Ugh. What do you want from me? All I've got is applause, and a cough drop It's just another night at the office I'm somebody's mom In a long lost thought; All zeros on the clock In a tick tock, or two, when you're off And you're long gone, I'll still be wandering Stuck at the mall Till the bus comes —trying to write myself out the box I'm a lost soul I'm a club kid I'm a lost cause But i'll stay till the end, Cause last time I walked off And my thoughts wandered back to the dance floor All that I wanted is A penny for gods thoughts And now she keeps dropping them —and more often then not, She's dropping the knowledge That I'm in the wrong, For just wanting you: But what can I do; I just want to be like you, and less of a primate Something saw right through me, and I felt invisible—now a doughnut sounded good, and I hoped that they would have vegan this early in the morning. There was about a half hour left of the set, and I was tired; I would stay until the end of the set, for some reason—-but now — Oh shit. Remember that one time/— Which TIME One time, I lost my mind and drove off of a bridge. That did happen. That did happen. I had at one point been unwell, and so— ugh, that's it Some smelly kid squeezed his way in between me and the next person over,,probably on molly or something—meanwhile the young white supremacists club of America was codeswitching up a storm, me pretending not to notice, but— he was dancing a little too hard, hitting me a little too much—and clearly not giving any kind of fuck: it wouldn't be my first panic attack on the dance floor, but it probably would be my last; it was the same story over and over again— only the next generation had even less of a Fuxk than I ever did. I left the dance floor and opted to stand behind VIP — DID ANYONE EVER FIND SKRILLEX? Wrf. He died. WHAT. No seriously, I watched him die. Okay. Then what? Then he got up. That's a twist. Now I can't sleep. That sounds traumatic. It was traumatic. How long's it been? I HAVE NOT SLEPT IN ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS. Great, the vampires are here, too. Good. I've been craving Vegan blood. Ihj. What. It's better for you. God dammit, Dillon Francis Why does this always happen? I can't remember half of what I did Before I napped, and landed back in this dimension Now, I'll give you my attention for a minute— But I'm worried about Skrillex Didnt I mention i needed permission (Or just a perscription) To get this ignition I didn't even want to come to this I hate this club It's filled will memories You won't remember me For half another century Cause I can't finish writing I'm too busy riding The bus To work And crying all the time Cause therapy doesn't And I used to love this stuff, but UHH 1–2–3 : BUN UP THE DANCE This is a lot of Skrillex. Is he okay? Is Dillon Francis Okay!? They're both okay. They're both millionaires. They'll be fine. huayayay!!!!. Fuck this. Fuck this. Alright, I'm leaving. Are we eating? If it's vegan. Ah man. What just happened? I'm definitely in the Illuminati. I have a tendency To pretend that You're friends with me Speeded I get it's a Fantasy But I had to see you In the flesh I digress I picture you're just as Obsessed with me Guess I'd regret to suggest that You should have Sex with me Directly but it's nestled in my head In the red Would you get into bed with me After everything I said Or I wrote, and you read Or am I just Better off dead Youre so far ahead, And I get that it's Just a test At best but I've yet to digest Breakfast Caught in a web of Heaven or or empathy Trying to empty my envy For whoever's holding your hand Instead of me Please, Forgive me— But, If you're reading this, It's too late; All triple sixes and Tipping the sinners With witless intentions Wet at the back of the ears But I've known you for years And I said I'd be here; I remembered the dress If a grown man can be a romantic, Like I am This is the promised land No looking back-- "I have to have that" Back to reality; I see now, how a woman's like a hat Just a thing, An unneeded accessory, Like jewelry; To wear it, It must be a match Not just average, Accentuates or masks Whatever it is what you have, And you have so many that It doesn't matter. What is he after? He has everything Most likely just using me to bring these Creatures to life If he needs a wife, she's Probably staring back at me, Through the back of the camera; Fantastic beasts and fucking fansasies A fallacy A back handed chance at a handsome Has been; But he'll never been had like that, He has everything, But he could have more than that, He can have anything, And he has, he's Magic or something or Mad at me for taking so long but, I've been in the world of monsters, Reeling; Oh what a horrible feeling I'm dealing with being unappealing and Peeling potatoes, which Remind me of me, cause Kenny Powers middle name is White, Like Walter, I'm just trying to find The alter to sell away something inside, I'm dying; Or at least I'd like to I've Tried a dozen times I'd smile if I had the time-- Remind me, what it is again It isn't comprehensive, But I'm out of my element-- And the elephant in the room is named Skrillex, Or Dillon Francis, Or Timmy Trumpet, Or, Fuck It-- I'll probably never be the DJ that I wanna be Cause I'm awfully ugly, And no one wants to play with me But hey, Maybe it's just a mistake Its just no one speaks my language Comunication is limited I'm sitting in the back of the short bus Discussing this with my imaginary elephant, But that's irrelevant to the White rinocerous in front of the bus with trust issues bigger than the rest of us https://gofund.me/7d3da4e5 {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Dillon Francis, I knew by now, was a very skilled sorcerer. I was fasting, and quickly shifting through times, realms, and dimensions as empty as ever as I knew myself to be; these days the shortest fasts seemed the longest—and by the look and feel of things, I was always still the biggest one in the room no matter where I went. ‘Let's see what this guy can do with half a moon.' If I had to go all the way to the dance floor to continue assessing my feelings for this man, it then had to be true that there were feelings at all—and there had to have been. Either way, I didn't care much; I wasn't expecting any outcome and at the very least and most simultaneously, I was there as a fan. I was, after all, as written, Dillon Francis's biggest fan—and though I didn't wear any apparel that made it obviously so, I sought to seek means to an end at some point for the saga I had written. I had hoped to potentially see Dillon's Kayla Lauren in the wings, as I thought surely for there to be one; it would be odd for any man, especially one that traveled as much as he did, to have two dogs of his own. Again, it didn't seem to matter, as I kept it in the forefront of my mind always that a man like Dillon Francis could have anyone he wanted in the world, most certainly anyone in the audience, If a world renowned DJ were ever to do such a thing as to sink as low as to converse with a peasant, such as I; at the very least, I would record, as always, Shazam, as always, and music mine as much as I possibly could, seeing as I wasn't there to dance or to drink at all, but simply just to observe; my soul acted in certain ways in this environment, and I wanted to know why, or what it was exactly that made it do so, quite unforgivingly. Still, there was magic in the air; and whether it was his, or mine, or neither I neither cared to know nor did, but knew it to be—there was just nothing to to do but submit, as I had learned; and rightfully so, as I was coming to him, it allowed him to assert his dominance, which I liked and needed anyhow, in any event. Allowing any potential anyone to become the master was a given; and though not yet at my beauty's peak of perfection, my sexuality was peaking enough for me to explore my innate attraction to him, as I allowed it. I wanted to be controlled, and so although it felt forced and always ridden with guilt, whatever had happened with Sonny had sent me through an infinite loop and then put Kayla Lauren on display at the worst possible time; and though rarely missing a gym day since, I credited my own perseverance for it rather than her sheer luck at the genetic lottery. I would never be a little white girl, and though at my worst they acted as kryptonite to my super powers, whatever they were—I still had whatever it was they didn't, and perhaps not the affluent white man's proper ideal, still something and someone at best, maybe. I hoped to see a girl he might belong to at the show; but then wondered of course who might stay with the dogs. Are you serious? Either way, I was going to write, and record, and align with whatever my purpose was—as regardless of how, it seemed to have something to do with Dillon Francis. I was fasting, of course, but it hadn't been long; I had fulfilled what would be my calorie deficit with a box of plant based Oreos just the night before departing LA full of grief, stress, and chocolate,'for whatever reason; I would have a vegan doughnut at pink box, I decided, before I left Vegas—maybe to make up for the one I had lost in the wind from the oncoming train just days before—I called it God's work, as nothing else could be so comical and devastating at the same time—but was also still craving a doughnut and, still fitting I to everything I owed that I had purchased in an extra small, very comfortably, thought to be allowed one, at one time or another. It didn't matter to me; the white women of the world were made to steal anything I wanted or needed; especially a Sonny or a Dillon Francis, but at the very least I could ease my grief with sweets and work off the stress whenever I was blessed enough to hold gym memberships. I didn't care much, but needed the processing speed of a wired brain and empty stomach to be able to compute whatever might be meant for me to grasp in the matrix; after all, I had once thought of Dillon Francis to be a computer-program himself; the most nonplahable character yet, but still a record breaking synchronicity or rather large group of them, now, in my book. .Red Hot Chili Peppers - These Are The Ways I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophies Maybe it's everything Love is But fucking What? God, I'm lucky; I ought to be I run a Fortune 500 Maybe it's nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophes (Don't forget the apostrophe, Since you'll be forging for me) I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing I should be parking my car in the lobby for washing Don't mind me, It's just natural distrust All turns to dust, And all comes from nothing God, I'm lucky I should be working on something (I should be resting on Sundays, the lord says) But take my time word for it, I'm the one writing it Monday Thru Sunday I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing ‘Just remember, that every girl you see that makes you sad, is the kind of girl he gets—and that's the reason for it.' , I thought to myself. As long as I remembered Instagram models and actresses existed, I couldn't continue to be hurt by it, but I was still, somehow even after 30 years, getting used to being the ugly fat black girl—and since I wasn't Lizzo or Megan The Stallion, I really wasn't anyboth; there was still no place for me at all in the world I wanted to belong to, and I was still as I represented as I would ever be. Maybe tonight I would use my two drink tickets; a sure recipe for disaster, as I had at least almost made it to the 48 hour mark fasting, If I was counting correctly. Perhaps a vegan doughnut could soak up the liquor and shame after leaving the encore at 3 am with nothing but a handful of words and some samples, and perhaps a podcast episode if there could be one. Dua Lipa, Hallucinate What happens after The Daisy swallows Dillon Francis?! Dillon HART Francis. That's a funny name! He's a funny guy. Sometimes. Sometimes. What was I to do? I just kept writing and had nowhere to send it; there was no pitch, there was no plot, and there was certainly no point. Enter The Multiverse and The Festival Project as a whole made up for everything I could have potentially been worth—which was nothing— and I hadn't a clue at all what I was purposed for; I seemed almost psychically robotic, remembering things as they happened within seconds, only enough to slightly offset a rebuttal that at any rate seemed scripted, but wasn't—at least yet. It seemed as if I was in a movie, but to any such ohaycologist of course this could have been considered mania, psychosis, or delusions of grandeur—or even— Dillusions of Granduer. I was funny too, sometimes. I didn't have to think Dillon Francis was shallow—I knew he was shallow, just as such with Sonny or any other man worth his salt, whatever that actually meant. But, just as I had harshly learned anything else, I was starting to understand why, as the smaller and more agile I became, the more I could do with my own body, and as such began to understand why men preferred slim and petite women. I was settling in well to my non-bianary status, and my celibacy—I could do more on my own or with myself than with any partner to date, and with the only human of interest being himself well over 300 pounds, I opted to keep to myself and simply observe human nature for the time being, rather than to take part in it. I wasn't eating, but for the first time in days I had slept, and pushing anything from the future or past far from my mind, I opted to remain present, and aloof; it wouldn't mean much to try to care at all about anything—the more I cared, the more the universe would subtract from my contentedness. Hear Me Now, Nicky Romero “If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.” —William Blake As if this isn't the greatest story ever told. I'm pretty sure that's The Passion of The Christ. This is The Passion Of The Christ. That's just blasphemous. It's The Passion of— Go on. I mean, it is infinite. Well, first there was infinite— —everything— —Everything. Now what. Oh, I know. What is it? It's The Passion of Dillon Francis. Why is that? Because, they're going to kill him. Why? Dillon Francis isn't in the Illuminati! Think twice before going there. But I've got a one track mind. A one track mind In a multitrack world Is a square peg to a round hole And a half-heart To a whole world And nothing's left but to give But to give is to get Just live, Try to forget that it's Infinite What's for dinner dear? I met you here, at the crossroads Like I said I would; And you said you wouldn't come, But here you are: A phenomenon Pardon my awful camaraderie Oh! I forgot all my manners Beg your hard on for hours, Till wilted, like later my flowers Oh, the debachery —better off watching your crotch, Than up on the cross, Like last that I saw you— Stop Look, I just want to watch; I just want to wash all the blood off my hands, From the Hog I put on the bonfire (Forgot what it's called in Oahu) Who are you? I died in a fire, you know In your eyes, Despite how I tried to avoid them They light up at night, sometimes No Divine or desire I'm just here to top off my tires, I'm tired, you know —better off watching, I'm novice Another day at the office, A shot gun in place of deposits, collateral Oh, I'm the asshole— I'm actually quite proud of it This is called something of consciousness, Writing a canon, But I'm quite forgetful; A madman, if you can imagine (Disasterous) Now you attack at your best, I'm un-vested Invested my time in unrest, Don't forget I'm just under your bed We mustn't forget how it started Intensive care Must be intense in the moment When you're Dillon Francis Ah yes. Leave A Trace, CHRCHES Tell me again how you're different; I exist just to wash dishes and watch DJs— I'm lazy; A patronage made just to let the white bitches forget all their privelege; In fact, it's a gift In fact, they're chosen— In fact, I'm just “Isn't” It's miserable Everyone Talks, Neon Trees | Three Pound Chicken Wing, deadmau5 | Paradise, Laidback Luke feat. Bright Lights Let me explain, How it's a vibration; I don't care what body you're in— It's all the same love, If it's all the same love, Then I love you I love you I love you, But I'm in a body It's torturous Let me explain how It's a vibration New word: It's Sapiosexual; Oh, I forgot how you Maddened me once, with your syntax and grammar Ah, now I'm sad as Hell ‘Might as well end it”, I thought to myself If looked as disheveled as I felt They would have stopped me from entering Even at ‘Envy' Let me explain, How I'm the villain This just happens over and over To poor Skrillex And Dillon Francis So much fame and fortune It turns into torture The girls on the rail A pecking order; Ready to devour, And be devoured by The man of the hour “ I might as well end it, then” I said. (But just for attention, I'm stuck in this body, Just rotting Cause nobody wants me at this damn party I've had enough of it I need some water and Probably a therapist Oh, ‘Stream of consciousness' There, I remembered it. Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) Uh huh, I'm no fun at parties [Three knocks on the door] I ignore it (This part is important) [three more knocks] Ought to be something, But still, I assume that it's nothing No guts, and no glory Nobody to love me Uh huh I'm no fun at parties Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) No wonder I used to cut myself “I can feel something” I once sung Now I just run; But— I'm still not small enough For somebody to want me I like to eat every now and again But— I guess that's my problem I just want someone to want me That doesn't remind me of Something i'm not But instead as in awe of my body As I am of Anything other than Tragedy Walk like an Egyptian, The Bangles I excused myself for the lackluster workout—after all, it had been days since my last real meal, and three now since my last solid anything; I had been happy with coconut water and alkaline, trying not to stay too far from the petite I was aiming for.; the plaid dress was a perfect match for the boots I had picked out, astonished that with the nearly 300-lb weight loss, my feet had also happened to shrink down a size and a half—I was dressed to impress, but prepared to be humiliated, and to top that—very eager to Google how long it would take me to get from XS, to Pink Box doughnuts—which was open 24 hours. At least I didn't exactly look like a prostitute—and, as an added bonus, might even could keep the dress for work or interviews; the boots walked nicely, at least for now, and I didn't mind the modesty, as I was already as out of place and forgotten as could be. Rather than opting for a coconut water, I stayed empty; not much was needed to do what I intended, which was almost nothing, and I hoped at the very least my senses and delicate nerves would be somehow put at ease. My iPhone microphone was sensitive enough to catch a song from a car waiting for the light halfway across the street— Freddie's Dead, Curtis Mayfield I crossed at the walk and kept my eyes to the ground, steadying my gait I into an awkward trot as not to appear to confident. I was right on time at the bus stop, and, within moments, not to my suprise, the 103 passed by me, even as I leaned against the stop waving my phone wirh the screen lit. “What a dick.” Perhaps I had fasted too long and worked out too hard; I had indeed left my clothes in a heap of heavy and drenched conglomerate of sweat and tears. I did have a headache, and didn't care much to return yet to my dwelling—in fact, there was something calling me out, and so out I went. Summoning a surprisingly inexpensive Über, I trotted begrudgingly to the WinCo behind me for a Pressed Coconjr Water—the world seemed to dysfunction a little too autonomously when I was running on empty, and with less stored fat supply than before, any triggered ketosis often resulted in a heavy cloud of thoughtless disability; I fumbled around clumsily, breathing shallow in the overstimulation of everything and everyone's aura—but that was exactly what I needed to see: Dillon had always glowed in brilliant shades of purple, but at one time, white—which startled me, especially because it was rare for anyone to glow that way. 120 calories of Coconut water wouldn't quite offset the caloric deficits Raul picked me up in a brand new Tesla, of course—which didn't feel like a coincidence, as nothing did; I had just earlier in the day been thinking of Lim Manuel Miranda, whose face was earned on the cover of a magazine as I purchased my coconut wate; I snapped a picture and hurried along to my whatever it was—instead of spending the next two hours on the bus, I'd get to collect the music from the warmup DJ, and since it was his job I wanted to aquire, it was probably in good taste and good fortune to support anyone whose name I didn't already know. As I arrived to the encore, my eyes were blurred and I was still a little woozy, but the headache was gone and replaced with an all-out bad attitude that didn't exactl come from out of nowhere. As easily distracted as I was, and out of place, I was surprisingly quick to lose self awareness; as I stopped to take a portrait for the festival project, security approached, assuming I was as trashed as anybody else hunched over the trash can—I explained I was working on an art project, and she seemed refreshed—I hadn't realized that how it looked wasn't at all out of the ordinary, remembering where I was, and suddenly, remembering where I was, I remembered the first time I was here, which had inspired the poem Red Velvet, which was lost to time and buried in the rubble of my endlessly infinite Google documents I never received my drink tickets—probably for the best, as k had been tempted this time to actually use them. My life was in actual shambles, with no direction whatsoever—and here I was, on the guestlist at Dillon Francis of all places, with nearly no other place to be. Maybe if I was vigilant I would be front and center at the rail—placing me back in the fandom instead of fiending for a reason or purpose any of this had happened. I'm not mad You're a man And an animal Can't help yourself can you you? Don't be mad at me I'm just a fan And an animal I can't help my attraction I'm second to last, Wirh my hand on the rail And I'm not here to dance (But the music's fantastic) Well, Dillon's front row is always a sight for sore eyes. This is hilarious. I'm laughing on the inside. Just, have a little drink with me. WHY DOES THE DJ KEEP PLAYING SIMMERTIME SADNESS!!! ITS NOT EVEN SUMMER. #SELFIE The club scene had changed much since the days of Red Velvet, but not much, also—vanity had always been the norm, but now more was allowable; at least Fat girls were allowed on the Dance floor without bogarting our way in—but now, the whole of the masses needed photographic evidence of everything; I wasn't in the least interested in taking photos of myself, or anything really hit the discarded rmknce of what had been a night of drinking and shenanigans, whatever the outcome; I never knew, but typically lately had made a habit of throwing away the trash after taking the photos for my project; tonight thiugh, something new caught my eye, as the warm up and caught my ears and I Shazammed every song for the taking—.Recycling bins at the foot of the rails—where, by the way, I had been pushed to front and center, looking quite like someone's Grandmother in my spectacles and too- long- for- the-club-dress—but I was comfortable, hadn't been given any trouble at the door, and, for the time being, was actually next to someone's grandparents. b€NZ (feat syaquis) Front row lit Finna get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We finnafight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shake that bony ass Like we on skid row. Yas Go ahead. Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shame that bony ass Like we on skid row. Where we gonna go In the morning Go ahead. The DJ's pace was picking up, so I knew that it had to be toward the end of his set—would I even make it to close—or did I want to? There wasn't much to see, but there might be more to write. I looked around myself, empathy giving way; now I wasn't myself, or anyone in particular—just a bystander in the crowd, drunk off the placebo of experience ‘What if this was your life every night for the last 10 years?' Uhhhh. I Shazamed another tune— What if this is your life for the next 10 years? Oh Fuxk. I'm getting too old for this. Or… just old enough. The night was moving forward, and so people were drunker, and I probably wouldn't stay at the front row too long; but I was right in the place where the bass hit just right, so it felt good enough— but you couldn't see the DJ's hands. Just so you know, When I'm bored at a show— I take out my notebook Oh no, You're not bothering me; No thanks, I'm not really lonely, I'm just Writing a novel Or album Or movie Or something “Are you in the industry?” The tallish blonde girl next to me asked, progressively more drunk than when she first had appeared next to me at the rail—the front row was now predominately female, which I supposed to be typical—what a life. I just shook my head and continued as I was. For the most part unamused, and even a little bored, as I always was at a club show. I wasn't behind the decks, so I wasn't really anywhere at all. Maybe it was the bass, but I had suddenly stopped craving a doughnut, however by 4 am I was probably just about going to be ready for one; Or half dozen, cause— And with a flash of steam and sweat, the man of the hour appeared, but I found it hard to lift my head— I probably should step back from this front row… The energy in your front row is everything; at least to a DJ like me… Okay Gerald, I'll get you a table— you can't tell anyone you're a piñata. Okay ?' okay. GERALD has permanently shapeshifted into a Human being. (To a hot girl) I'M ACTUALLY A PIÑATA. (Drunken hot girl) WHAT? I'M A PIÑATA! WHAT?! GERALD, NO. WHAT? She's drunk! So?! i told you already—don't tell anyone you're using magic—-or I'm using magic— But—Dillon—magic is real! You said so! I know that!!! DFR, Dillon Francis God dammit, I almost forgot about this album. No you didnt. (Shapeshifting) (Spellcasting) (Other Magic shit) Yeah, but I forgot about the album. Yeah, I bet SAVAGE>< Freek In The Ghetto, Skrillex No. No. No. Oh fuck, where is Skrillex? Oh yeah, huh?! OH YEAH, huh. — What the everlivingFUCK. Oh shit. WHAT are you doing? Just playing a game. WHATDIDITELLYOU— Oh shit, she's mad— Run, dude— Run!! OH SHIT. I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU Well— Well. Well, well, well— Suddenly, it seemed everyone in the front row Was alt right- and as always, all the hot white girls moved into VIP—it was a tired game; I would always be black, and I would always be ugly, and so it hurt less than made me think twice or three times who I was dealing with. I just so happened to look over my shoulder and be somewhat attracted to the girl behind me. ‘'maybe it's time to start dating women' …but that would never work. GERALD. WHAT?! I thought I told you— I know, I know— GIMME ANOTHER SHOT. What, Dillon—! I thought you weren't DRINKING! Gerald! It's me! I know it's you. No! It's me! Ū! SUPACREE?! NO' SHH! I'm Ū!!! Where's / Dillon Francis?! WHERE IS SKRILLEX? He's in your heart. Oh shit. I gave that to Dillon Francis. Well, then, you have your answer. Fuxk. Let it happen. Tame Impala Man, I love that kid. I love that kid. So what happened? It's a long story. —NOT THE TIME MACHINE —NOT THE BOX GET IN THE TIME MACHINE! NOT THE BOX—!!!!! UGH, not Dillon Francis. (Yes, Dillon Francis.) What's his deal?! Who's what, him!!? YES. Satan. Hm. Whats your deal with Dillon Francis? What?! I don't have a deal with Dillon Francis… What?! YOU DONT!? NO! Why not? Cause! Being honest..? The devil, being honest: (Psh) I owe him money. What!! Satan, no way. Yes way! Hod that happen?' Lost a bet. Damn. This set is getting good. What are you watching? Gerald's world The legend of supacree Enter the multiverse The infinite Skrillifiles What? Uh oh. What ñ 5) 3 time space time continuums just shattered CONFETTI BLAST OH SHIT, it just shattered twice. We gotta go. Where we going To the planet Which—ducking planet. The one with the ducks. QUACK oh shit. A duck DUCK DUCK!! DUCK—DUCK—DUCK— Damn, this game really has gone on forever— ITS EDM O CLOCK, BITCH—! GET UP!! Mmm. We better go. Yes. We better go ALI and AVICII are very, very drunk in Heaven. THEY FINALLY MADE IT?! —of course we made it! —We knew the way! But of course: GOD No, go back. WHAT ARE YOU serious? MARTY! MARTY MCFLY! DAWG, it's good to see you! Wait. What the Fuxk dimension is THIS?' It's the one with Dillon Francis That's— a —FUCK. Dillon Francis is in a lot of dimensions. Yeah but this is the right one. How do you know? That was the theme song for the TV show. What TV show? Damn. I'm fucked up. What! I thought you didn't drink. I don't I'm an empath. MEANWHILE SUPACREE and SUNNÍ BLŪ have collided in a para-dimensional reality OH, SHIT, it's ME OH FUCK—DAMN. Now what do we do? Drugs? Drugs. Yeaaaaaaaah. One More Time, Daft Punk My son's favorite song. It was the second time it had played today, and the first time it wasn't nearly as bad as the second — now i was glad for the cloud of cold steam, I couldn't hide my upset as much as I wanted to ‘'Just keep writing' Okay. They're trying to kill me With white girls, And memories And it just might work I'm trying to write myself out the box Oh my god And it just my work I'm trying to get lost But I'm all out of sauce This is not gonna work I see you went and hopped on the band wagon Somebody get that dragon. /$3/ Huh That's how much I paid for this You—what?! I paid $3 You paid $3 Yes. For this. Yes. I'm gonna kill you. Ū VS DILLON FRANCIS Uh oh. Here it goes. FIGHT. Oh shit. I've been waiting all season for this. Here it goes. KO. SUPACREE WINS. What. It's over already? This isn't possible. GAME OVER. What the Fuxk. This is insane. No fucking way #%%]!! Wait. What the fuck I thought it was Ū VS Dillon Francisz YeH! It was. What the fuck. So how did SUPACREE win? Huh. Wait, did anybody ever find Skrillex? Oh, My God. Just then, someone threw a Red Bull and it hit my foot enough that it actually distracted me from writing— THROW ANOTHER ONE! No, dont! Why, what's wrong? I have to take back these boots in the morning. Oh good, Jesus made it. What Jesus who! JESÚS CHRIST! What? What do you want? I didn't think you'd come! I had to. I thought you were on vacation. Exactly. Listen, Dillon—I have to tell you something. Uh huh. This isn't going to be easy. Chak Chel, what is it? I need you to listen. Uh, I'm kinda busy. It was at this point— Really, this point—? I had to stop and asses for myself what was really happening. I was writing up a storm, and it did seem to happen automatically, as it had before. I'm a looper Open the coupe up, Stupid, Who did you think I is This is the business Go listen to Skrillex And KILL YOURSELF Huh? JUST KILL YOURSELF. Ah, okay—but not because you said so. Listen, I'm finna spit this quick while you spin it Spit in it: clitoris I'm different bitch After this dinner I'm still in the kitchen With dishes, bitch Till it glistens While I listen To excision (I'm just kidding) Dammit, this is a lot of Skrillex What exactly did you say about Dillon Francis not being in the Illuminati First of all, the Illuminati isn't real. SUPACREE How did you get famous? SUNNÍ BLŪ I'm in the Illuminati. You? SUPACREE I AM the Illuminati. SUNNÍ BLŪ NIce. [Cheers] Hey. Hey. Anybody seen Gerald? … … … Zzz. Damn. Nodding off On the clock I'm on the floor, And yo this shit is toxic Turn the knob a bit; My foot starting to throb again I'm looking hot like Somebody's mom again Damn. I'm getting off On the wrong kind of drama This isn't long at all But it's all wrong, ya'll I dont belong here Lost My Mind, Alison Wonderland OHH THIS SHIT BE HITTING DIFFERENT It did hit different. Someone either vomited or spilled the rest of their drink on me, which took me out of my moment: the music was telling a story, at least to me—and I didn't feel like feeling right then, but it was all I could do ñ. I was surprised that I was still standing at all, Ugh. I don't understand my feelings. This was deeper than it seemed, bigger than it — Ugh. What do you want from me? All I've got is applause, and a cough drop It's just another night at the office I'm somebody's mom In a long lost thought; All zeros on the clock In a tick tock, or two, when you're off And you're long gone, I'll still be wandering Stuck at the mall Till the bus comes —trying to write myself out the box I'm a lost soul I'm a club kid I'm a lost cause But i'll stay till the end, Cause last time I walked off And my thoughts wandered back to the dance floor All that I wanted is A penny for gods thoughts And now she keeps dropping them —and more often then not, She's dropping the knowledge That I'm in the wrong, For just wanting you: But what can I do; I just want to be like you, and less of a primate Something saw right through me, and I felt invisible—now a doughnut sounded good, and I hoped that they would have vegan this early in the morning. There was about a half hour left of the set, and I was tired; I would stay until the end of the set, for some reason—-but now — Oh shit. Remember that one time/— Which TIME One time, I lost my mind and drove off of a bridge. That did happen. That did happen. I had at one point been unwell, and so— ugh, that's it Some smelly kid squeezed his way in between me and the next person over,,probably on molly or something—meanwhile the young white supremacists club of America was codeswitching up a storm, me pretending not to notice, but— he was dancing a little too hard, hitting me a little too much—and clearly not giving any kind of fuck: it wouldn't be my first panic attack on the dance floor, but it probably would be my last; it was the same story over and over again— only the next generation had even less of a Fuxk than I ever did. I left the dance floor and opted to stand behind VIP — DID ANYONE EVER FIND SKRILLEX? Wrf. He died. WHAT. No seriously, I watched him die. Okay. Then what? Then he got up. That's a twist. Now I can't sleep. That sounds traumatic. It was traumatic. How long's it been? I HAVE NOT SLEPT IN ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS. Great, the vampires are here, too. Good. I've been craving Vegan blood. Ihj. What. It's better for you. God dammit, Dillon Francis Why does this always happen? I can't remember half of what I did Before I napped, and landed back in this dimension Now, I'll give you my attention for a minute— But I'm worried about Skrillex Didnt I mention i needed permission (Or just a perscription) To get this ignition I didn't even want to come to this I hate this club It's filled will memories You won't remember me For half another century Cause I can't finish writing I'm too busy riding The bus To work And crying all the time Cause therapy doesn't And I used to love this stuff, but UHH 1–2–3 : BUN UP THE DANCE This is a lot of Skrillex. Is he okay? Is Dillon Francis Okay!? They're both okay. They're both millionaires. They'll be fine. huayayay!!!!. Fuck this. Fuck this. Alright, I'm leaving. Are we eating? If it's vegan. Ah man. What just happened? I'm definitely in the Illuminati. I have a tendency To pretend that You're friends with me Speeded I get it's a Fantasy But I had to see you In the flesh I digress I picture you're just as Obsessed with me Guess I'd regret to suggest that You should have Sex with me Directly but it's nestled in my head In the red Would you get into bed with me After everything I said Or I wrote, and you read Or am I just Better off dead Youre so far ahead, And I get that it's Just a test At best but I've yet to digest Breakfast Caught in a web of Heaven or or empathy Trying to empty my envy For whoever's holding your hand Instead of me Please, Forgive me— But, If you're reading this, It's too late; All triple sixes and Tipping the sinners With witless intentions Wet at the back of the ears But I've known you for years And I said I'd be here; I remembered the dress If a grown man can be a romantic, Like I am This is the promised land No looking back-- "I have to have that" Back to reality; I see now, how a woman's like a hat Just a thing, An unneeded accessory, Like jewelry; To wear it, It must be a match Not just average, Accentuates or masks Whatever it is what you have, And you have so many that It doesn't matter. What is he after? He has everything Most likely just using me to bring these Creatures to life If he needs a wife, she's Probably staring back at me, Through the back of the camera; Fantastic beasts and fucking fansasies A fallacy A back handed chance at a handsome Has been; But he'll never been had like that, He has everything, But he could have more than that, He can have anything, And he has, he's Magic or something or Mad at me for taking so long but, I've been in the world of monsters, Reeling; Oh what a horrible feeling I'm dealing with being unappealing and Peeling potatoes, which Remind me of me, cause Kenny Powers middle name is White, Like Walter, I'm just trying to find The alter to sell away something inside, I'm dying; Or at least I'd like to I've Tried a dozen times I'd smile if I had the time-- Remind me, what it is again It isn't comprehensive, But I'm out of my element-- And the elephant in the room is named Skrillex, Or Dillon Francis, Or Timmy Trumpet, Or, Fuck It-- I'll probably never be the DJ that I wanna be Cause I'm awfully ugly, And no one wants to play with me But hey, Maybe it's just a mistake Its just no one speaks my language Comunication is limited I'm sitting in the back of the short bus Discussing this with my imaginary elephant, But that's irrelevant to the White rinocerous in front of the bus with trust issues bigger than the rest of us https://gofund.me/7d3da4e5 {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Written by: Kyle and Nikki Young

You can micromanage your life and your personhood all that you want, you can lose your voice screaming at the sky for the answers and reasons of why you were born -  but you cannot micromanage your soul.Do you realize how much you are holding yourself back from your blessings by demanding they come in right here, right now?Do you realize how much you may be blocking answers and guidance by yearning for them with an acute desperation, eyes unknowingly closed to what is right in front of you? If you feel like you are on a constant search for answers, clarity, or guidance on how to get to where you want to go or where you should even be going at all - I have one piece of advice, Stop searching. Learn to sit in the silence of your heart. You will find all you need there. You are here in this life, to experience this life.  Remove the need. Remove the pressure. Silence the monkey in your mind that whisks you away into a painful introspection bordering on existentialism, craving for you to do, to force, to complete.For if you don't, You will miss the moments that are open-doorways for portals of transformation, right in front of you, by scouring for answers when you could simply be allowing them to make their way to you. Let yourself be what you were born to be - Here -Now./In this Episode, I cover: Incremental Progress & Conscious LivingHow to enjoy the process and the unfolding of your path and your life with more easeThe power of authenticity, of what you can create by showing up as you are Practical Tips for Consciousness & Presence How to become conscious of your unconscious thoughts, actions, habits, and behaviors See what is holding you back The importance of Meditation & How to Begin Alpha Brain Wave State  Morning/Alpha State Questions for Guidance"What is the highest ideal of myself that i can be today?"Not getting out of bed until you feel like this person"Can i begin to keep my energy up the entire day?"And if I do it properly, then I will be open to opportunities and possibilities that weren't there before.""Could I sustain brain and heart coherence so that the intelligence within me giving me life, opens a door for me to see intelligence in my world?"Night Time Guidance "What went well today?"Scanning for the good, appreciating moments you did not appreciate when they deserved to be honored"How did I do today?" (Not from a place of judgement but pure observation, and holding yourself accountable)"What got under my skin? What made me frustrated, angry upset? How did I react? & How will I react differently next time?""Was I present?" "How can I be better tomorrow"Visualization - REALIZING YOUR POWERBooks & Resources for this episode: (Where I've learned these things!) Eckhart Tolle, Power of NowAtomic Habits, James Clear Joe Dispenza on Jay Shetty's podcast 'On Purpose' Episode Title: How to Chemically Teach your Body to Focus on Healing & Vibrate at a Higher FrequencyShort Video on Power of Meditation: YT Abraham Hicks, The Pleasure of Meditation The simplest: LITERALLY GOING,,, OUTSIDE and BEING THERE.IF YOU LIKED THIS EPISODE, PLS LEAVE REVIEW TikTok: butterflyfountainPodcast Instagram: Support the showSupport this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/figuring-sh-t-out/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Rushion interviews Legendary R&B singer WILL DOWNING. He is affectionately dubbed as The Prince of Sophisticated Soul, with a repertoire consisting of signature interpretations of R&B classics like "I Go Crazy," "Wishing On A Star," "Stop Look & Listen," and "I Try," with original hits "A Million Ways," "After Tonight," "Sorry I," "Everything I Want in My Lady" and the show-stopping, chart-topping duet with Rachelle Ferrell, "Nothing Has Ever Felt Like This."  He has released a new single, "Till We Meet Again."  The song offers a message of hope and understanding that will resonate with anyone who has faced mental health challenges. According to Will Downing, the song was inspired when he lost his daughter to suicide in January of 2023. Support the show: https://www.steveharveyfm.com/See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Rushion interviews Legendary R&B singer WILL DOWNING. He is affectionately dubbed as The Prince of Sophisticated Soul, with a repertoire consisting of signature interpretations of R&B classics like "I Go Crazy," "Wishing On A Star," "Stop Look & Listen," and "I Try," with original hits "A Million Ways," "After Tonight," "Sorry I," "Everything I Want in My Lady" and the show-stopping, chart-topping duet with Rachelle Ferrell, "Nothing Has Ever Felt Like This."  He has released a new single, "Till We Meet Again."  The song offers a message of hope and understanding that will resonate with anyone who has faced mental health challenges. According to Will Downing, the song was inspired when he lost his daughter to suicide in January of 2023. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Sermon: Stop, Look Around, and Remember Scripture: Numbers 11:24-30 Speaker: Rev. Dan Wunderlich Description: Numbers 11 is a chapter full of amnesia. God's people cannot seem to remember God's faithfulness to them. Moses has forgotten a key leadership lesson his Father-in-Law taught him. So, in the middle of the mess, God brings the Holy Spirit to remind them all of what they need to know.

Stop, Look, and Listen On today's podcast, we'll be talking about the importance of stopping, looking, and listening in the workplace. So - stay tuned. You can find the show notes to each episode, links to the information mentioned on the podcast, the social media platforms we're on, and anything else related to the podcast at WarehouseSafetyTips.com. If you're a seasoned Podcast Listener, this podcast will be different from most you listen to.  It's based on exactly what the name implies - Warehouse Safety Tips.  And since the people in that industry are busy - we know time is money so each episode will be as short and to the point as possible. And now that all that is out of the way - let's get to the Podcast! Stop, Look, and Listen In the fast-paced environments of factories and warehouses, where productivity and efficiency are paramount, ensuring safety should always be a top priority. A straightforward routine vital to safeguarding these workplaces is "stop, look, and listen." This process goes way behind the lyrics in an Elvis Song. By implementing this process - employees can significantly mitigate risks and prevent accidents by ingraining this habit into daily operations, fostering a secure working environment. First and foremost, stopping is an essential component of this routine. Whenever an individual notices a potential hazard or an unfamiliar situation, taking a momentary pause can be a game-changer. By momentarily halting their activities, employees create an opportunity to assess the environment and identify potential dangers that might have otherwise gone unnoticed. This simple act can help prevent accidents and mitigate risks that could have severe consequences. After stopping, the next crucial step is looking. Careful observation allows employees to scan their surroundings, paying attention to potential hazards, equipment malfunctions, or improper storage. Visual inspections enable the early detection of unsafe conditions, such as exposed electrical wiring, blocked emergency exits, or spills that could lead to slips and falls. By being vigilant and proactive in their observations, employees can take corrective actions promptly, preventing accidents. The final step in this routine is listening, which emphasizes the importance of communication and staying informed. By actively listening to safety briefings, announcements, or alerts from colleagues, employees can stay updated with any changes in procedures, emergency protocols, or equipment updates. Effective communication channels, such as regular safety meetings or digital notifications, enhance the sharing of vital information and ensure everyone remains aware of potential risks. Implementing the "stop, look, and listen" routine in factories and warehouses promotes a safety-conscious culture. Regular training sessions and safety drills should be conducted to reinforce the significance of this routine. This ensures that employees are well-versed in practice and helps cultivate a mindset that prioritizes safety. Incorporating the habit of "stop, look, and listen" into the daily routine becomes second nature, leading to a safer work environment for everyone involved. Thank you for being part of another episode of Warehouse Safety Tips. Until we meet next week - have a great week, and STAY SAFE! Before moving on - here's a word from one of our sponsors. If you've ever been to or worked in a warehouse - you know just how important safety is to management and staff.  It's almost impossible to go 10 steps without seeing Safety Tape, Angles, Signs, and/or products. These items show us how to be safe and avoid danger in the workplace.  And if you're looking for the best products to make this happen - look no further than Mighty Line! Mighty Line Floor Signs / Floor Markings offer the best industrial products! Go to MightyLineTape.com/SafetyTips to request a Sample Pack of their incredible Safety Signs and Floor Markings. What makes Mighty Line the superior choice in keeping your facility safe and productive? Mighty Line Tape is the strongest floor tape on the market and has a beveled edge that increases durability for industrial brush scrubbers, forklifts, and heavy industrial wheel traffic.  Easy installation and removal thanks to Mighty Line's peel-and-stick backing.  You can apply and reapply it during installation - and it leaves no sticky residue should you need to remove it.  This allows the ability to change workflow areas quickly and easily - and not have the downtime associated with painting or using floor markings that leave behind a mess when you remove them. Mighty Line Tape is 7 times thicker than the average Safety Floor Tape. Mighty Line's Signs and Markings come in various shapes, colors, and sizes.  And if they don't have what you're looking for in stock - their Customize It Program allows you to create exactly what you're looking for.  Mighty Line offers a Limited 3-Year Warranty on their Floor Signs and Markings. And last but certainly not least - Mighty Line Products are Patented and PROUDLY Made in the USA! We're proud to have Mighty Line as THE Official Floor Sign / Floor Marking Company for the Warehouse Safety Tips Podcast and Site. Again - Go to MightyLineTape.com/SafetyTips to request a Sample Pack of their incredible Safety Signs and Floor Markings. If you visit WarehouseSafetyTips.com - you'll find the Show Notes for this episode.   Thank you for listening to Warehouse Safety Tips - and have a SAFE day!

Rushion interviews Legendary R&B singer WILL DOWNING. He is affectionately dubbed as The Prince of Sophisticated Soul, with a repertoire consisting of signature interpretations of R&B classics like "I Go Crazy," "Wishing On A Star," "Stop Look & Listen," and "I Try," with original hits "A Million Ways," "After Tonight," "Sorry I," "Everything I Want in My Lady" and the show-stopping, chart-topping duet with Rachelle Ferrell, "Nothing Has Ever Felt Like This."  He has released a new single, "Till We Meet Again."  The song offers a message of hope and understanding that will resonate with anyone who has faced mental health challenges. According to Will Downing, the song was inspired when he lost his daughter to suicide in January of 2023. He is on the show to discuss his career and the song, Till We Meet Again" to alert you to mental health issues and suicides. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Rushion interviews Legendary R&B singer WILL DOWNING. He is affectionately dubbed as The Prince of Sophisticated Soul, with a repertoire consisting of signature interpretations of R&B classics like "I Go Crazy," "Wishing On A Star," "Stop Look & Listen," and "I Try," with original hits "A Million Ways," "After Tonight," "Sorry I," "Everything I Want in My Lady" and the show-stopping, chart-topping duet with Rachelle Ferrell, "Nothing Has Ever Felt Like This."  He has released a new single, "Till We Meet Again."  The song offers a message of hope and understanding that will resonate with anyone who has faced mental health challenges. According to Will Downing, the song was inspired when he lost his daughter to suicide in January of 2023. He is on the show to discuss his career and the song, Till We Meet Again" to alert you to mental health issues and suicides. Support the show: https://www.steveharveyfm.com/See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Rushion interviews Attorney Real Estate Developer Diana Lynch. Attorney Lynch has over two decades' worth of litigation experience in family law and holds a license in mediation and arbitration. She handles sports, entertainment, business law, and family law cases involving divorce, child custody, child support, and property division, and we will discuss her historic 1000-acre golf resort purchase in the Dominican Republic. But her primary purpose isn't just acquiring wealth for herself; it's inspiring the Black community to take on more ownership.   Rushion interviews Legendary R&B singer WILL DOWNING. He is affectionately dubbed as The Prince of Sophisticated Soul, with a repertoire consisting of signature interpretations of R&B classics like "I Go Crazy," "Wishing On A Star," "Stop Look & Listen," and "I Try," with original hits "A Million Ways," "After Tonight," "Sorry I," "Everything I Want in My Lady" and the show-stopping, chart-topping duet with Rachelle Ferrell, "Nothing Has Ever Felt Like This."  He has released a new single, "Till We Meet Again."  The song offers a message of hope and understanding that will resonate with anyone who has faced mental health challenges. According to Will Downing, the song was inspired when he lost his daughter to suicide in January of 2023. He is on the show to discuss his career and the song, Till We Meet Again" to alert you to mental health issues and suicides.Support the show: https://www.steveharveyfm.com/See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Rushion interviews Attorney Real Estate Developer Diana Lynch. Attorney Lynch has over two decades' worth of litigation experience in family law and holds a license in mediation and arbitration. She handles sports, entertainment, business law, and family law cases involving divorce, child custody, child support, and property division, and we will discuss her historic 1000-acre golf resort purchase in the Dominican Republic. But her primary purpose isn't just acquiring wealth for herself; it's inspiring the Black community to take on more ownership.   Rushion interviews Legendary R&B singer WILL DOWNING. He is affectionately dubbed as The Prince of Sophisticated Soul, with a repertoire consisting of signature interpretations of R&B classics like "I Go Crazy," "Wishing On A Star," "Stop Look & Listen," and "I Try," with original hits "A Million Ways," "After Tonight," "Sorry I," "Everything I Want in My Lady" and the show-stopping, chart-topping duet with Rachelle Ferrell, "Nothing Has Ever Felt Like This."  He has released a new single, "Till We Meet Again."  The song offers a message of hope and understanding that will resonate with anyone who has faced mental health challenges. According to Will Downing, the song was inspired when he lost his daughter to suicide in January of 2023. He is on the show to discuss his career and the song, Till We Meet Again" to alert you to mental health issues and suicides.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Last week topic is today's struggle. So I didn't take my own medician. Now I'm redoing something that was already done. Taking time to slow down should apart of the agenda. If any body tells you other wise, knock they ass out! Of course I'm no doctor, but my advice is good! @iamvirutousdiva --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/virtuous-diva--company/message

JUst Listen! @iamvirtuousdiva --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/virtuous-diva--company/message

Pastor Jonathan O'Reilly Sunday, March 6th, 2023

"You do not find the happy life . . . you make it.” - Thomas S. Monson "The joy we feel has little to do with the circumstances of our lives and everything to do with the focus of our lives.” - Russell M. Nelson "Happiness begins where selfishness ends." - Coach John Wooden "Gratefulness arises when we experience something that is valuable and freely given." - Brother David Stendl-Rast

On This Week at Charlestown Road, Jason and Roger revisit Sunday morning's sermon, Intersections, exploring the wisdom behind three words most of us learn in elementary school: stop, look, listen. How can those words continue to help us navigate the intersections of everyday life?

Making a list and checking it twice... with online shopping? On today's episode, Carla is providing the ultimate crash course in cyber safety, just in time for the holidays! We are living in a world of convenience, and shopping online has become the norm. Well, with all good things, there must be one inconvenient truth, and that truth is... cyber criminals. Yes, they do exist, they are smooth as can be, and they'll "getcha" if you're not careful. So tune in and get ready to own the holiday season and beyond with the tips and tools you need to combat the slimy cyber scammers out there trying to steal your joy. And most importantly, don't forget to "stop, look, and think.".       Today's topics include:    The importance of using a safe and secure WiFi connection to avoid online scams  Why securing your devices and adequate password protection is beyond necessary   Tips to avoid being cat-fished by online travel accommodations    How to spot fake promotions and not fall victim to untrustworthy links    Best practices when it comes to gift cards and evaluating their legitimacy    Please make sure to rate, review, and follow us for more financial tips, tricks, and tactics. Tandia Financial Credit Union is here to help. Got Feedback? Want to learn more? Head to tandia.com for an experience as unique as you are    

Two entrepreneurs set out to change the game with their new luxury lunchbox, but quickly realize the difficulties of maintaining a product during the holiday season. You will learn: 1. The challenges of running a product-based company during the holiday season 2. The journey of creating a fashionable, functional, and sustainable luxury lunchbox 3. The importance of user-centered design in creating products that are both stylish and functional Shallon Thomas & Sherika Wynter are the co-founders of TW Tote, a luxury lunchbox company. They started the company in 2018 with the goal of creating a fashionable, functional and sustainable lunchbox for professionals. Since then, the company has expanded to five colors and two different sizes, and has been featured in numerous publications.

Pecandy's Alishia Richardson discusses her line of sweet, salty, and crunchy gourmet candied pecans.

View our full collection of podcasts at our website: https://www.solgoodmedia.com or YouTube channel: https://www.solgood.org/subscribe

In this edition of Stop, Look & Listen, THE! Mario Washington, Q Kittles and Gran Wiz of The Good Ole Boys join LeTroy Gardner to discuss the extended break from their decade long show and what to expect out of the future with the 4 of them back on the mic together for the first time in a long time. 

Adriane Scott-Singleton stops by to share the work of Wheels 4 Hope, a nonprofit organization that provides safe, reliable, and affordable vehicles to people in need. Visit www.wheels4hope.org as they are always seeking volunteers, vehicle and cash donations. Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Wheels4Hope Twitter: https://twitter.com/wheels4hope YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/user/Wheels4HopeRal

Wolly McNair takes us down memory lane with his new family-owned Saturday Morning Cartoons and Hard Core Street Nerds clothing lines. Website: https://cartoonsaturdays.com/ Website: www.oncemperors.com IG: wollyv Twitter: WOlly Vinyl

What is a doula? Certified Doula and Owner of Birthing With Purpose Simone Lee explains and why they are so important to people of color.https://www.birthingwithpurpose.com/https://www.berkeleyfirststeps.com/Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/birthingwithpurposellc/Instagram: birthingwithpurpose#doula #childbirth #medical #charleston #baby

https://youtu.be/7L4JnAuW00k Dillon Francis, I knew by now, was a very skilled sorcerer. I was fasting, and quickly shifting through times, realms, and dimensions as empty as ever as I knew myself to be; these days the shortest fasts seemed the longest—and by the look and feel of things, I was always still the biggest one in the room no matter where I went. ‘Let's see what this guy can do with half a moon.' If I had to go all the way to the dance floor to continue assessing my feelings for this man, it then had to be true that there were feelings at all—and there had to have been. Either way, I didn't care much; I wasn't expecting any outcome and at the very least and most simultaneously, I was there as a fan. I was, after all, as written, Dillon Francis's biggest fan—and though I didn't wear any apparel that made it obviously so, I sought to seek means to an end at some point for the saga I had written. I had hoped to potentially see Dillon's Kayla Lauren in the wings, as I thought surely for there to be one; it would be odd for any man, especially one that traveled as much as he did, to have two dogs of his own. Again, it didn't seem to matter, as I kept it in the forefront of my mind always that a man like Dillon Francis could have anyone he wanted in the world, most certainly anyone in the audience, If a world renowned DJ were ever to do such a thing as to sink as low as to converse with a peasant, such as I; at the very least, I would record, as always, Shazam, as always, and music mine as much as I possibly could, seeing as I wasn't there to dance or to drink at all, but simply just to observe; my soul acted in certain ways in this environment, and I wanted to know why, or what it was exactly that made it do so, quite unforgivingly. Still, there was magic in the air; and whether it was his, or mine, or neither I neither cared to know nor did, but knew it to be—there was just nothing to to do but submit, as I had learned; and rightfully so, as I was coming to him, it allowed him to assert his dominance, which I liked and needed anyhow, in any event. Allowing any potential anyone to become the master was a given; and though not yet at my beauty's peak of perfection, my sexuality was peaking enough for me to explore my innate attraction to him, as I allowed it. I wanted to be controlled, and so although it felt forced and always ridden with guilt, whatever had happened with Sonny had sent me through an infinite loop and then put Kayla Lauren on display at the worst possible time; and though rarely missing a gym day since, I credited my own perseverance for it rather than her sheer luck at the genetic lottery. I would never be a little white girl, and though at my worst they acted as kryptonite to my super powers, whatever they were—I still had whatever it was they didn't, and perhaps not the affluent white man's proper ideal, still something and someone at best, maybe. I hoped to see a girl he might belong to at the show; but then wondered of course who might stay with the dogs. Are you serious? Either way, I was going to write, and record, and align with whatever my purpose was—as regardless of how, it seemed to have something to do with Dillon Francis. I was fasting, of course, but it hadn't been long; I had fulfilled what would be my calorie deficit with a box of plant based Oreos just the night before departing LA full of grief, stress, and chocolate,'for whatever reason; I would have a vegan doughnut at pink box, I decided, before I left Vegas—maybe to make up for the one I had lost in the wind from the oncoming train just days before—I called it God's work, as nothing else could be so comical and devastating at the same time—but was also still craving a doughnut and, still fitting I to everything I owed that I had purchased in an extra small, very comfortably, thought to be allowed one, at one time or another. It didn't matter to me; the white women of the world were made to steal anything I wanted or needed; especially a Sonny or a Dillon Francis, but at the very least I could ease my grief with sweets and work off the stress whenever I was blessed enough to hold gym memberships. I didn't care much, but needed the processing speed of a wired brain and empty stomach to be able to compute whatever might be meant for me to grasp in the matrix; after all, I had once thought of Dillon Francis to be a computer-program himself; the most nonplahable character yet, but still a record breaking synchronicity or rather large group of them, now, in my book. .Red Hot Chili Peppers - These Are The Ways I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophies Maybe it's everything Love is But fucking What? God, I'm lucky; I ought to be I run a Fortune 500 Maybe it's nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophes (Don't forget the apostrophe, Since you'll be forging for me) I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing I should be parking my car in the lobby for washing Don't mind me, It's just natural distrust All turns to dust, And all comes from nothing God, I'm lucky I should be working on something (I should be resting on Sundays, the lord says) But take my time word for it, I'm the one writing it Monday Thru Sunday I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing ‘Just remember, that every girl you see that makes you sad, is the kind of girl he gets—and that's the reason for it.' , I thought to myself. As long as I remembered Instagram models and actresses existed, I couldn't continue to be hurt by it, but I was still, somehow even after 30 years, getting used to being the ugly fat black girl—and since I wasn't Lizzo or Megan The Stallion, I really wasn't anyboth; there was still no place for me at all in the world I wanted to belong to, and I was still as I represented as I would ever be. Maybe tonight I would use my two drink tickets; a sure recipe for disaster, as I had at least almost made it to the 48 hour mark fasting, If I was counting correctly. Perhaps a vegan doughnut could soak up the liquor and shame after leaving the encore at 3 am with nothing but a handful of words and some samples, and perhaps a podcast episode if there could be one. Dua Lipa, Hallucinate What happens after The Daisy swallows Dillon Francis?! Dillon HART Francis. That's a funny name! He's a funny guy. Sometimes. Sometimes. What was I to do? I just kept writing and had nowhere to send it; there was no pitch, there was no plot, and there was certainly no point. Enter The Multiverse and The Festival Project as a whole made up for everything I could have potentially been worth—which was nothing— and I hadn't a clue at all what I was purposed for; I seemed almost psychically robotic, remembering things as they happened within seconds, only enough to slightly offset a rebuttal that at any rate seemed scripted, but wasn't—at least yet. It seemed as if I was in a movie, but to any such ohaycologist of course this could have been considered mania, psychosis, or delusions of grandeur—or even— Dillusions of Granduer. I was funny too, sometimes. I didn't have to think Dillon Francis was shallow—I knew he was shallow, just as such with Sonny or any other man worth his salt, whatever that actually meant. But, just as I had harshly learned anything else, I was starting to understand why, as the smaller and more agile I became, the more I could do with my own body, and as such began to understand why men preferred slim and petite women. I was settling in well to my non-bianary status, and my celibacy—I could do more on my own or with myself than with any partner to date, and with the only human of interest being himself well over 300 pounds, I opted to keep to myself and simply observe human nature for the time being, rather than to take part in it. I wasn't eating, but for the first time in days I had slept, and pushing anything from the future or past far from my mind, I opted to remain present, and aloof; it wouldn't mean much to try to care at all about anything—the more I cared, the more the universe would subtract from my contentedness. Hear Me Now, Nicky Romero “If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.” —William Blake As if this isn't the greatest story ever told. I'm pretty sure that's The Passion of The Christ. This is The Passion Of The Christ. That's just blasphemous. It's The Passion of— Go on. I mean, it is infinite. Well, first there was infinite— —everything— —Everything. Now what. Oh, I know. What is it? It's The Passion of Dillon Francis. Why is that? Because, they're going to kill him. Why? Dillon Francis isn't in the Illuminati! Think twice before going there. But I've got a one track mind. A one track mind In a multitrack world Is a square peg to a round hole And a half-heart To a whole world And nothing's left but to give But to give is to get Just live, Try to forget that it's Infinite What's for dinner dear? I met you here, at the crossroads Like I said I would; And you said you wouldn't come, But here you are: A phenomenon Pardon my awful camaraderie Oh! I forgot all my manners Beg your hard on for hours, Till wilted, like later my flowers Oh, the debachery —better off watching your crotch, Than up on the cross, Like last that I saw you— Stop Look, I just want to watch; I just want to wash all the blood off my hands, From the Hog I put on the bonfire (Forgot what it's called in Oahu) Who are you? I died in a fire, you know In your eyes, Despite how I tried to avoid them They light up at night, sometimes No Divine or desire I'm just here to top off my tires, I'm tired, you know —better off watching, I'm novice Another day at the office, A shot gun in place of deposits, collateral Oh, I'm the asshole— I'm actually quite proud of it This is called something of consciousness, Writing a canon, But I'm quite forgetful; A madman, if you can imagine (Disasterous) Now you attack at your best, I'm un-vested Invested my time in unrest, Don't forget I'm just under your bed We mustn't forget how it started Intensive care Must be intense in the moment When you're Dillon Francis Ah yes. Leave A Trace, CHRCHES Tell me again how you're different; I exist just to wash dishes and watch DJs— I'm lazy; A patronage made just to let the white bitches forget all their privelege; In fact, it's a gift In fact, they're chosen— In fact, I'm just “Isn't” It's miserable Everyone Talks, Neon Trees | Three Pound Chicken Wing, deadmau5 | Paradise, Laidback Luke feat. Bright Lights Let me explain, How it's a vibration; I don't care what body you're in— It's all the same love, If it's all the same love, Then I love you I love you I love you, But I'm in a body It's torturous Let me explain how It's a vibration New word: It's Sapiosexual; Oh, I forgot how you Maddened me once, with your syntax and grammar Ah, now I'm sad as Hell ‘Might as well end it”, I thought to myself If looked as disheveled as I felt They would have stopped me from entering Even at ‘Envy' Let me explain, How I'm the villain This just happens over and over To poor Skrillex And Dillon Francis So much fame and fortune It turns into torture The girls on the rail A pecking order; Ready to devour, And be devoured by The man of the hour “ I might as well end it, then” I said. (But just for attention, I'm stuck in this body, Just rotting Cause nobody wants me at this damn party I've had enough of it I need some water and Probably a therapist Oh, ‘Stream of consciousness' There, I remembered it. Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) Uh huh, I'm no fun at parties [Three knocks on the door] I ignore it (This part is important) [three more knocks] Ought to be something, But still, I assume that it's nothing No guts, and no glory Nobody to love me Uh huh I'm no fun at parties Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) No wonder I used to cut myself “I can feel something” I once sung Now I just run; But— I'm still not small enough For somebody to want me I like to eat every now and again But— I guess that's my problem I just want someone to want me That doesn't remind me of Something i'm not But instead as in awe of my body As I am of Anything other than Tragedy Walk like an Egyptian, The Bangles I excused myself for the lackluster workout—after all, it had been days since my last real meal, and three now since my last solid anything; I had been happy with coconut water and alkaline, trying not to stay too far from the petite I was aiming for.; the plaid dress was a perfect match for the boots I had picked out, astonished that with the nearly 300-lb weight loss, my feet had also happened to shrink down a size and a half—I was dressed to impress, but prepared to be humiliated, and to top that—very eager to Google how long it would take me to get from XS, to Pink Box doughnuts—which was open 24 hours. At least I didn't exactly look like a prostitute—and, as an added bonus, might even could keep the dress for work or interviews; the boots walked nicely, at least for now, and I didn't mind the modesty, as I was already as out of place and forgotten as could be. Rather than opting for a coconut water, I stayed empty; not much was needed to do what I intended, which was almost nothing, and I hoped at the very least my senses and delicate nerves would be somehow put at ease. My iPhone microphone was sensitive enough to catch a song from a car waiting for the light halfway across the street— Freddie's Dead, Curtis Mayfield I crossed at the walk and kept my eyes to the ground, steadying my gait I into an awkward trot as not to appear to confident. I was right on time at the bus stop, and, within moments, not to my suprise, the 103 passed by me, even as I leaned against the stop waving my phone wirh the screen lit. “What a dick.” Perhaps I had fasted too long and worked out too hard; I had indeed left my clothes in a heap of heavy and drenched conglomerate of sweat and tears. I did have a headache, and didn't care much to return yet to my dwelling—in fact, there was something calling me out, and so out I went. Summoning a surprisingly inexpensive Über, I trotted begrudgingly to the WinCo behind me for a Pressed Coconjr Water—the world seemed to dysfunction a little too autonomously when I was running on empty, and with less stored fat supply than before, any triggered ketosis often resulted in a heavy cloud of thoughtless disability; I fumbled around clumsily, breathing shallow in the overstimulation of everything and everyone's aura—but that was exactly what I needed to see: Dillon had always glowed in brilliant shades of purple, but at one time, white—which startled me, especially because it was rare for anyone to glow that way. 120 calories of Coconut water wouldn't quite offset the caloric deficits Raul picked me up in a brand new Tesla, of course—which didn't feel like a coincidence, as nothing did; I had just earlier in the day been thinking of Lim Manuel Miranda, whose face was earned on the cover of a magazine as I purchased my coconut wate; I snapped a picture and hurried along to my whatever it was—instead of spending the next two hours on the bus, I'd get to collect the music from the warmup DJ, and since it was his job I wanted to aquire, it was probably in good taste and good fortune to support anyone whose name I didn't already know. As I arrived to the encore, my eyes were blurred and I was still a little woozy, but the headache was gone and replaced with an all-out bad attitude that didn't exactl come from out of nowhere. As easily distracted as I was, and out of place, I was surprisingly quick to lose self awareness; as I stopped to take a portrait for the festival project, security approached, assuming I was as trashed as anybody else hunched over the trash can—I explained I was working on an art project, and she seemed refreshed—I hadn't realized that how it looked wasn't at all out of the ordinary, remembering where I was, and suddenly, remembering where I was, I remembered the first time I was here, which had inspired the poem Red Velvet, which was lost to time and buried in the rubble of my endlessly infinite Google documents I never received my drink tickets—probably for the best, as k had been tempted this time to actually use them. My life was in actual shambles, with no direction whatsoever—and here I was, on the guestlist at Dillon Francis of all places, with nearly no other place to be. Maybe if I was vigilant I would be front and center at the rail—placing me back in the fandom instead of fiending for a reason or purpose any of this had happened. I'm not mad You're a man And an animal Can't help yourself can you you? Don't be mad at me I'm just a fan And an animal I can't help my attraction I'm second to last, Wirh my hand on the rail And I'm not here to dance (But the music's fantastic) Well, Dillon's front row is always a sight for sore eyes. This is hilarious. I'm laughing on the inside. Just, have a little drink with me. WHY DOES THE DJ KEEP PLAYING SIMMERTIME SADNESS!!! ITS NOT EVEN SUMMER. #SELFIE The club scene had changed much since the days of Red Velvet, but not much, also—vanity had always been the norm, but now more was allowable; at least Fat girls were allowed on the Dance floor without bogarting our way in—but now, the whole of the masses needed photographic evidence of everything; I wasn't in the least interested in taking photos of myself, or anything really hit the discarded rmknce of what had been a night of drinking and shenanigans, whatever the outcome; I never knew, but typically lately had made a habit of throwing away the trash after taking the photos for my project; tonight thiugh, something new caught my eye, as the warm up and caught my ears and I Shazammed every song for the taking—.Recycling bins at the foot of the rails—where, by the way, I had been pushed to front and center, looking quite like someone's Grandmother in my spectacles and too- long- for- the-club-dress—but I was comfortable, hadn't been given any trouble at the door, and, for the time being, was actually next to someone's grandparents. b€NZ (feat syaquis) Front row lit Finna get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We finnafight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shake that bony ass Like we on skid row. Yas Go ahead. Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shame that bony ass Like we on skid row. Where we gonna go In the morning Go ahead. The DJ's pace was picking up, so I knew that it had to be toward the end of his set—would I even make it to close—or did I want to? There wasn't much to see, but there might be more to write. I looked around myself, empathy giving way; now I wasn't myself, or anyone in particular—just a bystander in the crowd, drunk off the placebo of experience ‘What if this was your life every night for the last 10 years?' Uhhhh. I Shazamed another tune— What if this is your life for the next 10 years? Oh Fuxk. I'm getting too old for this. Or… just old enough. The night was moving forward, and so people were drunker, and I probably wouldn't stay at the front row too long; but I was right in the place where the bass hit just right, so it felt good enough— but you couldn't see the DJ's hands. Just so you know, When I'm bored at a show— I take out my notebook Oh no, You're not bothering me; No thanks, I'm not really lonely, I'm just Writing a novel Or album Or movie Or something “Are you in the industry?” The tallish blonde girl next to me asked, progressively more drunk than when she first had appeared next to me at the rail—the front row was now predominately female, which I supposed to be typical—what a life. I just shook my head and continued as I was. For the most part unamused, and even a little bored, as I always was at a club show. I wasn't behind the decks, so I wasn't really anywhere at all. Maybe it was the bass, but I had suddenly stopped craving a doughnut, however by 4 am I was probably just about going to be ready for one; Or half dozen, cause— And with a flash of steam and sweat, the man of the hour appeared, but I found it hard to lift my head— I probably should step back from this front row… The energy in your front row is everything; at least to a DJ like me… Okay Gerald, I'll get you a table— you can't tell anyone you're a piñata. Okay ?' okay. GERALD has permanently shapeshifted into a Human being. (To a hot girl) I'M ACTUALLY A PIÑATA. (Drunken hot girl) WHAT? I'M A PIÑATA! WHAT?! GERALD, NO. WHAT? She's drunk! So?! i told you already—don't tell anyone you're using magic—-or I'm using magic— But—Dillon—magic is real! You said so! I know that!!! DFR, Dillon Francis God dammit, I almost forgot about this album. No you didnt. (Shapeshifting) (Spellcasting) (Other Magic shit) Yeah, but I forgot about the album. Yeah, I bet SAVAGE>< Freek In The Ghetto, Skrillex No. No. No. Oh fuck, where is Skrillex? Oh yeah, huh?! OH YEAH, huh. — What the everlivingFUCK. Oh shit. WHAT are you doing? Just playing a game. WHATDIDITELLYOU— Oh shit, she's mad— Run, dude— Run!! OH SHIT. I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU Well— Well. Well, well, well— Suddenly, it seemed everyone in the front row Was alt right- and as always, all the hot white girls moved into VIP—it was a tired game; I would always be black, and I would always be ugly, and so it hurt less than made me think twice or three times who I was dealing with. I just so happened to look over my shoulder and be somewhat attracted to the girl behind me. ‘'maybe it's time to start dating women' …but that would never work. GERALD. WHAT?! I thought I told you— I know, I know— GIMME ANOTHER SHOT. What, Dillon—! I thought you weren't DRINKING! Gerald! It's me! I know it's you. No! It's me! Ū! SUPACREE?! NO' SHH! I'm Ū!!! Where's / Dillon Francis?! WHERE IS SKRILLEX? He's in your heart. Oh shit. I gave that to Dillon Francis. Well, then, you have your answer. Fuxk. Let it happen. Tame Impala Man, I love that kid. I love that kid. So what happened? It's a long story. —NOT THE TIME MACHINE —NOT THE BOX GET IN THE TIME MACHINE! NOT THE BOX—!!!!! UGH, not Dillon Francis. (Yes, Dillon Francis.) What's his deal?! Who's what, him!!? YES. Satan. Hm. Whats your deal with Dillon Francis? What?! I don't have a deal with Dillon Francis… What?! YOU DONT!? NO! Why not? Cause! Being honest..? The devil, being honest: (Psh) I owe him money. What!! Satan, no way. Yes way! Hod that happen?' Lost a bet. Damn. This set is getting good. What are you watching? Gerald's world The legend of supacree Enter the multiverse The infinite Skrillifiles What? Uh oh. What ñ 5) 3 time space time continuums just shattered CONFETTI BLAST OH SHIT, it just shattered twice. We gotta go. Where we going To the planet Which—ducking planet. The one with the ducks. QUACK oh shit. A duck DUCK DUCK!! DUCK—DUCK—DUCK— Damn, this game really has gone on forever— ITS EDM O CLOCK, BITCH—! GET UP!! Mmm. We better go. Yes. We better go ALI and AVICII are very, very drunk in Heaven. THEY FINALLY MADE IT?! —of course we made it! —We knew the way! But of course: GOD No, go back. WHAT ARE YOU serious? MARTY! MARTY MCFLY! DAWG, it's good to see you! Wait. What the Fuxk dimension is THIS?' It's the one with Dillon Francis That's— a —FUCK. Dillon Francis is in a lot of dimensions. Yeah but this is the right one. How do you know? That was the theme song for the TV show. What TV show? Damn. I'm fucked up. What! I thought you didn't drink. I don't I'm an empath. MEANWHILE SUPACREE and SUNNÍ BLŪ have collided in a para-dimensional reality OH, SHIT, it's ME OH FUCK—DAMN. Now what do we do? Drugs? Drugs. Yeaaaaaaaah. One More Time, Daft Punk My son's favorite song. It was the second time it had played today, and the first time it wasn't nearly as bad as the second — now i was glad for the cloud of cold steam, I couldn't hide my upset as much as I wanted to ‘'Just keep writing' Okay. They're trying to kill me With white girls, And memories And it just might work I'm trying to write myself out the box Oh my god And it just my work I'm trying to get lost But I'm all out of sauce This is not gonna work I see you went and hopped on the band wagon Somebody get that dragon. /$3/ Huh That's how much I paid for this You—what?! I paid $3 You paid $3 Yes. For this. Yes. I'm gonna kill you. Ū VS DILLON FRANCIS Uh oh. Here it goes. FIGHT. Oh shit. I've been waiting all season for this. Here it goes. KO. SUPACREE WINS. What. It's over already? This isn't possible. GAME OVER. What the Fuxk. This is insane. No fucking way #%%]!! Wait. What the fuck I thought it was Ū VS Dillon Francisz YeH! It was. What the fuck. So how did SUPACREE win? Huh. Wait, did anybody ever find Skrillex? Oh, My God. Just then, someone threw a Red Bull and it hit my foot enough that it actually distracted me from writing— THROW ANOTHER ONE! No, dont! Why, what's wrong? I have to take back these boots in the morning. Oh good, Jesus made it. What Jesus who! JESÚS CHRIST! What? What do you want? I didn't think you'd come! I had to. I thought you were on vacation. Exactly. Listen, Dillon—I have to tell you something. Uh huh. This isn't going to be easy. Chak Chel, what is it? I need you to listen. Uh, I'm kinda busy. It was at this point— Really, this point—? I had to stop and asses for myself what was really happening. I was writing up a storm, and it did seem to happen automatically, as it had before. I'm a looper Open the coupe up, Stupid, Who did you think I is This is the business Go listen to Skrillex And KILL YOURSELF Huh? JUST KILL YOURSELF. Ah, okay—but not because you said so. Listen, I'm finna spit this quick while you spin it Spit in it: clitoris I'm different bitch After this dinner I'm still in the kitchen With dishes, bitch Till it glistens While I listen To excision (I'm just kidding) Dammit, this is a lot of Skrillex What exactly did you say about Dillon Francis not being in the Illuminati First of all, the Illuminati isn't real. SUPACREE How did you get famous? SUNNÍ BLŪ I'm in the Illuminati. You? SUPACREE I AM the Illuminati. SUNNÍ BLŪ NIce. [Cheers] Hey. Hey. Anybody seen Gerald? … … … Zzz. Damn. Nodding off On the clock I'm on the floor, And yo this shit is toxic Turn the knob a bit; My foot starting to throb again I'm looking hot like Somebody's mom again Damn. I'm getting off On the wrong kind of drama This isn't long at all But it's all wrong, ya'll I dont belong here Lost My Mind, Alison Wonderland OHH THIS SHIT BE HITTING DIFFERENT It did hit different. Someone either vomited or spilled the rest of their drink on me, which took me out of my moment: the music was telling a story, at least to me—and I didn't feel like feeling right then, but it was all I could do ñ. I was surprised that I was still standing at all, Ugh. I don't understand my feelings. This was deeper than it seemed, bigger than it — Ugh. What do you want from me? All I've got is applause, and a cough drop It's just another night at the office I'm somebody's mom In a long lost thought; All zeros on the clock In a tick tock, or two, when you're off And you're long gone, I'll still be wandering Stuck at the mall Till the bus comes —trying to write myself out the box I'm a lost soul I'm a club kid I'm a lost cause But i'll stay till the end, Cause last time I walked off And my thoughts wandered back to the dance floor All that I wanted is A penny for gods thoughts And now she keeps dropping them —and more often then not, She's dropping the knowledge That I'm in the wrong, For just wanting you: But what can I do; I just want to be like you, and less of a primate Something saw right through me, and I felt invisible—now a doughnut sounded good, and I hoped that they would have vegan this early in the morning. There was about a half hour left of the set, and I was tired; I would stay until the end of the set, for some reason—-but now — Oh shit. Remember that one time/— Which TIME One time, I lost my mind and drove off of a bridge. That did happen. That did happen. I had at one point been unwell, and so— ugh, that's it Some smelly kid squeezed his way in between me and the next person over,,probably on molly or something—meanwhile the young white supremacists club of America was codeswitching up a storm, me pretending not to notice, but— he was dancing a little too hard, hitting me a little too much—and clearly not giving any kind of fuck: it wouldn't be my first panic attack on the dance floor, but it probably would be my last; it was the same story over and over again— only the next generation had even less of a Fuxk than I ever did. I left the dance floor and opted to stand behind VIP — DID ANYONE EVER FIND SKRILLEX? Wrf. He died. WHAT. No seriously, I watched him die. Okay. Then what? Then he got up. That's a twist. Now I can't sleep. That sounds traumatic. It was traumatic. How long's it been? I HAVE NOT SLEPT IN ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS. Great, the vampires are here, too. Good. I've been craving Vegan blood. Ihj. What. It's better for you. God dammit, Dillon Francis Why does this always happen? I can't remember half of what I did Before I napped, and landed back in this dimension Now, I'll give you my attention for a minute— But I'm worried about Skrillex Didnt I mention i needed permission (Or just a perscription) To get this ignition I didn't even want to come to this I hate this club It's filled will memories You won't remember me For half another century Cause I can't finish writing I'm too busy riding The bus To work And crying all the time Cause therapy doesn't And I used to love this stuff, but UHH 1–2–3 : BUN UP THE DANCE This is a lot of Skrillex. Is he okay? Is Dillon Francis Okay!? They're both okay. They're both millionaires. They'll be fine. huayayay!!!!. Fuck this. Fuck this. Alright, I'm leaving. Are we eating? If it's vegan. Ah man. What just happened? I'm definitely in the Illuminati. I have a tendency To pretend that You're friends with me Speeded I get it's a Fantasy But I had to see you In the flesh I digress I picture you're just as Obsessed with me Guess I'd regret to suggest that You should have Sex with me Directly but it's nestled in my head In the red Would you get into bed with me After everything I said Or I wrote, and you read Or am I just Better off dead Youre so far ahead, And I get that it's Just a test At best but I've yet to digest Breakfast Caught in a web of Heaven or or empathy Trying to empty my envy For whoever's holding your hand Instead of me Please, Forgive me— But, If you're reading this, It's too late; All triple sixes and Tipping the sinners With witless intentions Wet at the back of the ears But I've known you for years And I said I'd be here; I remembered the dress {Enter The Multiverse}

Michael De Los Santos discusses his award-winning line of bbq sauces and dry rubs, who has the best bbq, being inspired by his late son, and more! www.mikedsbbq.com www.bullcitybbqbash.com FB: /mikedsbbq IG: /mikedsbbq/ YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC043Ij7rXhqvSY-6Fl6egtw

Pose 360 Photo Booth Owner Tiffini Spry discusses leaving a successful career in pharmaceutical sales to land as the experience concierge. IG: pose360cltFB: Pose 360 Photo Boothwww.pose360photobooth.com

Fun Diggity CEO Cheyenne Brown shares her journey growing up as a good kid in the mad city of Compton to a successful line of funnel cakes. https://fundiggity.com/Shop: https://fundiggity.com/products/fun-diggity-funnel-cake-mixFB: https://www.facebook.com/FDFUNNELCAKES/IG: https://www.instagram.com/fdfunnelcakes/ or @fdfunnelcakeshttps://linktr.ee/Fdfunnelcakes

WANNA AVOID MAKING MISTAKES? THEN STOP TALKING AND LISTEN MORE!A lot of people make mistakes in conversations because they talk too much, and fail to allow the prospects to share their valuable information. Join Collin today as he breaks down why people should listen more to connect more, only here in Sales Transformation. Jazz up your sales mindset with Kevin Dorsey aka KD and some of the brightest minds in sales in Live Better Sell Better!Stop sending boring sales e-mails or videos and start sending catchy GIFs and Memes with VIDU.io!Power up your podcast experience by joining our Free Podcast Community!EPISODE HIGHLIGHTSPeople make mistakes because they talk too muchTurning the game around by asking the right questionsListen more, learn more, connect more“If you actually are listening, you'll actually learn a lot more. You're in your case, like, you know, allowing your prospect to speak more, where a lot of people would naturally just feel like they need to say something to fill that space, or to respond” - Collin MitchellConnect with Greg and learn more about what he's been working on!About GregAbout AbstraktAbstrakt.aiConnect with Collin and find out what's new in Sales Transformation and other things he's up to:About CollinAbout SalescastSalescast CommunitySales TransformationWanna kick off your own kick-ass podcast?Already have one? How about growing it, or even monetizing it?LET'S TALK.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing…wait! Yes, I could! I did believe!

Two Agricultural Case Rulings from the Kansas Court of Appeals A Look Back at the Long-Running Radio Series, Stop, Look and Listen The Final Stop, Look and Listen Episode   00:01:00 – Two Agricultural Case Rulings from the Kansas Court of Appeals: Agricultural law and tax professor Roger McEowen of the Washburn University School of Law discusses a pair of rulings recently rendered by the Kansas Court of Appeals:  the first involves a dispute among family members over the instillation of a new irrigation system and whether it constitutes a land improvement when it came to divvying up the farm property...the second regarding a declared violation of show animal fitting rules that led the Kansas State Fair to strip the market lamb championship from a youth exhibitor   00:12:00 – A Look Back at the Long-Running Radio Series, Stop, Look and Listen: A visit with retired K-State landscape and environmental horticulturist Gus van der Hoeven about his radio series on life in rural Kansas, "Stop, Look and Listen", which concludes its 45-year run today:  its origins and its mission to foster a greater appreciation of the sights and sounds of this state   00:23:00 – Stop, Look and Listen: K-State's Gus van Der Hoeven provides his final commentary on life in rural Kansas.   Send comments, questions or requests for copies of past programs to ksrenews@ksu.edu. Agriculture Today is a daily program featuring Kansas State University agricultural specialists and other experts examining ag issues facing Kansas and the nation. It is hosted by Eric Atkinson and distributed to radio stations throughout Kansas and as a daily podcast.   K‑State Research and Extension is a short name for the Kansas State University Agricultural Experiment Station and Cooperative Extension Service, a program designed to generate and distribute useful knowledge for the well‑being of Kansans. Supported by county, state, federal and private funds, the program has county Extension offices, experiment fields, area Extension offices and regional research centers statewide. Its headquarters is on the K‑State campus in Manhattan.

Drs. Nuria Sanchez-Clemente and Hermione Lyall discuss a case of congenital CMV in the first case of the Febrile “Curious Congenital Conundrums” series https://febrilepodcast.com/episodes/ (Episodes) |https://febrilepodcast.com/consult-notes/ ( Consult Notes) |https://febrilepodcast.captivate.fm/listen ( Subscribe) |https://twitter.com/febrilepodcast ( Twitter) | febrilepodcast@gmail.com

27 February 2022 - Transfiguration Sunday - The story of the Transfiguration brings the season of Epiphany to a close. As with the Baptism of Jesus at the beginning of Epiphany, a voice from heaven is the highlight of the Transfiguration passage. The voice of God connects the life and ministry of Jesus with the entire Hebrew Bible and commands Jesus' disciples to listen to him in a biblical context. Sermon by Rev. David Pileggi. Readings: Genesis 3:1-24; 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2; Luke 9:28-43a Blessed by our teachings? Consider saying thank you with a small (or large) donation. www.christchurchjerusalem.org/donate/ A version of this sermon is also available on our YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/christchurchjerusalem Listen to this sermon and more on our podcast. Search for Christ Church Jerusalem in Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, or your favorite podcast app.

Poe Mack stops by to discuss his latest projects “Mountain God” and “A Promise Not To Sting” with Cesar Comanche. https://www.facebook.com/watch/169674115353/1013419819512537/ Stop, Look & Listen is The GOB Radio Network's interview program airing on Facebook and wherever you listen to podcasts from The Good Ole Boys Radio Show channel.

Dr. Antwain Maurice Howard shares his journey from small town Marion, SC and Winthrop University to now serving as the USA Regional Head Veterinarian for Labcorp. https://www.facebook.com/watch/169674115353/1013419819512537/ Stop, Look & Listen is The GOB Radio Network's interview program airing on Facebook and wherever you listen to podcasts from The Good Ole Boys Radio Show channel. Like us on Facebook at […]

Lt. Joe Johnson stops by to discuss his 25 year career in law enforcement, hosting his own show sharing Motivational Success Stories and being an accomplished classical musician. https://www.facebook.com/watch/169674115353/1013419819512537/ Website: www.joejohnsonenterprisesllc.comYouTube: Joe Johnson Enterprises, LLCLinkedIn: Lieutenant Joe JohnsonFacebook: Joe A. Johnson Stop, Look & Listen is The GOB Radio Network's interview program airing on Facebook and wherever you […]

Christopher Everett stops by to discuss his new book “Go Fore It”, his mission to bring more diversity, inclusion and opportunities golf can foster. https://www.facebook.com/watch/169674115353/1013419819512537/ Stop, Look & Listen is The GOB Radio Network's interview program airing on Facebook and wherever you listen to podcasts from The Good Ole Boys Radio Show channel. Website: www.goforeitusa.comGo Fore It on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Go-Fore-Family-Golf-Story/dp/1737849704Facebook: […]

Mr. BawSaw, Bee Boy$oul, stops by to discuss his official debut album Back 2 Love featuring Raheem Devaughn, The Hamiltones and Eric Roberson. We also chat about growing up in Richmond and being a walking duality. IG: @BeeBoySoulTwitter: @BeeBoySoulFacebook: /BeeBoisseauwww.beeboysoul.com https://www.facebook.com/watch/169674115353/1013419819512537/ Stop, Look & Listen is The GOB Radio Network's interview program airing on Facebook and wherever […]

Mariah stops by to discuss her new single “Material Girl”, Love Languages, and caring for newborn infants as a nurse. https://www.facebook.com/watch/169674115353/1013419819512537/ Stop, Look & Listen is The GOB Radio Network's interview program airing on Facebook and wherever you listen to podcasts from The Good Ole Boys Radio Show channel. Instagram: @__MyNameIsMariah__Twitter: @TheMariahHesterFacebook: /MariahHesterTikTok: @MyNameIsMariahSong Links: https://li.sten.to/Mariah