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Tuesday, December 30th, 2025Today, alleged pipe bomber Brian Cole has not yet been indicted by a federal grand jury and the government may have to prove probable cause in a hearing today; after Marjorie Taylor Greene threatened to read the names of Epstein's co conspirators - Trump called her and yelled “you'll hurt my friends;” Tina Peters has asked the Colorado appeals court to recognize Trump's pardon and release her from prison; the 9th Circuit has blocked a lower court ruling that allowed teachers to out transgender students; a postmark rule change could impact mail-in voting; Russia threatens Ukraine after Putin claims his home was attacked; a federal judge has dismissed charges against a TikToker shot by ICE; and Allison and Dana deliver your Good News.FBI Sources BLOW WHISTLE on Trump LIES about THE FILES - YouTubeStories:Four Takeaways From the New York Times Profile of Marjorie Taylor Greene | NYTA Simple Postmark Change Could Affect Your Taxes And Charitable Giving | ForbsTrump Says the U.S. Struck a ‘Big Facility' in Campaign Against Venezuela | The New York TimesTina Peters asks Colorado appeals court to recognize Trump's pardon, release her from prison | Colorado SunRussia threatens Ukraine after alleged attack on Putin's residence | NBC NewsFederal judge dismisses indictment against TikToker shot by ICE during South LA raid | ABC7 Los Angeles9th Circuit Court Temporarily Blocks Lower Court Forced Outing Ruling In California | Erin In The Morning Good TroubleColorado Senators Hickenlooper and Bennet are holding out on approving any budget that does not include funding for NCAR. I'm asking the leguminati to contact your Senators and Congressional Reps to ask them to stand in solidarity with the Colorado Senators for ALL our sakes.Contacting U.S. SenatorsFind Your Representative | house.gov5 CallsFrom The Good NewsCourageous SoapJoanna Whaley for Michigan Housejoannawhaleyofficial - TikTok @joannawhaleyofficial - InstagramRun For SomethingHer Bold MoveThe Martin Sheen Podcast→Go To DailyBeansPod.com Click on ‘Good News and Good Trouble' to Share YoursSubscribe to the MSW YouTube Channel - MSW Media - YouTubeOur Donation LinksPathways to Citizenship link to MATCH Allison's Donation https://crm.bloomerang.co/HostedDonation?ApiKey=pub_86ff5236-dd26-11ec-b5ee-066e3d38bc77&WidgetId=6388736Allison is donating $20K to It Gets Better and inviting you to help match her donations. Your support makes this work possible, Daily Beans fam. Donate to It Gets Better / The Daily Beans FundraiserJoin Dana and The Daily Beans and support on Giving Tuesday with a MATCHEDDonation http://onecau.se/_ekes71More Donation LinksNational Security Counselors - Donate

Struck by a Car, Surrounded by the Divine: Gary Wimmer's NDE

Quaranteam - Dave In Dallas: Part 8 Intruders! Based on a post by RonanJWilkerson, in 12 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. October 26, 2020. Monday afternoon, Reena took lunch duties. Lunch was often individual or in small groups, but she really wanted a crack at cooking for everyone. She said it could be 'come and go' to still facilitate varied schedules around the house. Her idea was ramen. But, it wasn't just basic out of the package. Well, it was, but with a variety of add-ons. You could pick your flavor of ramen, then she'd prepared chopped carrots, nori, sesame oil, diced onion, spam, eggs (fried up for each bowl individually) and Korean red pepper powder that Jan had gotten added to the spice rack. Oh, Reena still cooked it up, but each bowl was individual, and made on request. When Jan came in for lunch, she laughed warmly. Beaming, Reena asked hopefully, "Just like mom would make?" Jan placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder. "Not exactly dear. This is ore like what my Caucasian aunt would make when she tried to be authentic." Reena's face and shoulders seemed to suddenly melt. Jan stepped in beside the teen, wrapping her arms around her. "And the one time I made fun of my aunt for it in my mother's hearing was the last. She pulled me aside and scolded me for being insensitive, and ungrateful. Mom said that ramen was always about making something tasty, with love and what ever ingredients were available." Jan made a point of looking over the prepped ingredients arrayed on the counter. "And this is exactly what you have done." She kissed Reena on her cheek. "Thank you. Thank you for the meal, and thank you for reminding me of two lovely, caring women in my life." Reena hugged her. Then she got the specifics of what Jan wanted and got busy making it. Dave stepped out of his office and got two steps down the hallway when Lupie found him. "Dave, could I use your office and computer for a bit? It's kind of urgent. I was in the middle of some trades and my laptop died." "Again?" Dave chuckled. Lupie looked chagrined and rolled her eyes. "Good thing you have your software installed in there already. Just log me off and do what you gotta do. How long do you need me to stay out?" "Rest of the afternoon?" "Okay." Dave started to walk away but Lupie snagged him by the shirtfront and tugged him towards her. They kissed softly. They didn't hear the small footsteps approaching. "Oh gag me with a tamale." Both adults laughed too hard to maintain the kiss. "I do need to get in there," Lupie said. A quick peck and she scampered into the office. Dave knelt down and wrapped Esme in a hug. "And you, rascal, need to give it a rest. We keep a lot out of your sight because; well because it should be out of your viewing. So give us a break on the kissing once in a while, huh?" "Yessir" her tone sounded reluctant, but the grin was hard to suppress. She took four quick steps away from him before turning. "Dave?" "Yes, sweetie?" "Thanks for making mom happy." "Never have I ever; used a pay phone," Reena said with a wicked grin. Shawna and all the ladies over thirty took a drink. Dave first reached into his pocket, pulled his hand back out, and tossed a quarter at Reena. Then he took a drink. Liv busted out laughing. "One of Dad's favorite songs!" she cried as she cackled loudly and leaned a bit too far over into Mel. They'd been going for over half an hour. And she and Mel had pre-gamed. "Song?" Reena asked. "Pay phones used to cost a quarter to make a call. Early nineties, there was a country breakup song called 'Here's a Quarter, Call Someone Who Cares'," Dave filled in. Reena pouted, then stuck out her tongue. "Okay, Lupie, your turn," Jan prompted. 'Never have I ever; done the splits." Reena threw one back. Liv joined her, while Dave laughed. "That laugh suggests a story," Nessa observed. "Yeah, yeah," Liv replied. "I was; oh, about ten or so?" "Eleven," Dave corrected. "Right. Anyway, the girlie girl types were saying I was not really a girl if I couldn't do the splits. So I did." Dave cleared his throat. Liv blushed. "On top of the monkey bars." All the older ladies burst out laughing. "Well, that showed them!" Shawna rejoined. "And I believe it's Dave's turn now." "Alright, never have I ever; taken a nude or semi-nude selfie." Reena's eyes bugged out. She reached for her drink, threw back a slug, then covered her face with her hand. Mel, Liv, and Nessa followed suit. That was no shock to anyone. Jan doing so caught a few looks. "Nope, not gonna talk about it." Jan's face was as red as Melanie's hair. "Okay, moving on; " "Not yet. Someone hasn't drunk." Dave said. He looked at Becca, clearing his throat. "What?! I've never sent nude selfies. You're the first guy I ever got naked for!" "I believe you." Then Dave held up his phone and waggled it. Becca's eyes got wide. "Oh, crap, I forgot about that!" The young blonde blushed about six shades of red before reaching for her drink. "Oh, this I gotta hear." Melanie breathed. Becca hid her face in her hands, peeking between two fingers. Lupie laughed loudly. "Okay, you busted me out, so spill." Becca looked pleadingly at Dave, then shrugged her shoulders, giving him a nod. "Loops, you remember that very first day, when the vax guy came around?" Lupie nodded in reply. "And you wondered why Becca was acting all embarrassed after I told you I'd accepted you both?" "Yes?; oh!" "I told you she'd be the one to say it was okay to tell you what happened? She just did." Lupie just nodded in reply. "Uh, care to fill the rest of us in?" Mel asked. "So the CDC guy came around mid-September. He got to Lupie's house first. She sent him over here with a letter asking that I request her and Becca, giving her reasons why I should say yes. After setting things up with Arthur, I texted both of them that I would make the request. Becca replied with a selfie. With her shirt and bra pulled up. Still have it by the way." Dave winked at Becca. "Shit, we shoulda thought of that! Right after the video call!" Liv groused, nudging Mel. "Another missed first." "Becca was weeks before that call, so still first. Well, first amongst this group, not first ever." "Oh, yeah?" Dave dodged. "Old girlfriend, long time ago. So, who's turn is it next?" Thankfully, they let it slide. October 27, 2020. Dave descended the stairs to see Olivia, Becca and Reena watching a 90's movie. The two teens were making a concerted effort to take in as much of the movies and songs that Dave had grown up with, particularly the ones he had physical copies of. Reena had taken some adjusting to the idea of watching without streaming. Not that they didn't stream at all. Last night, Dave had discovered several of his partners, including Reena, hadn't yet seen Hamilton. That required immediate correction. "Wow, really? It's a great story, well executed, and it's historical. I mean, yeah, they take some liberties, but Miranda was pretty true to the essence of the characters." "But history?" Reena whined. "It's just a bunch of old white guys." Dave looked askance at her. "You're sleeping with an old white guy." Reena's face fell, and Dave's heart with it. In a soft voice, she said, "You're not just an old white guy to me." Her head wasn't exactly hanging, but she didn't meet his eyes. Fuck, emotional landmine triggered. Splash damage accumulating. Dave got up swiftly, without rushing, to stand in front of her and take her in his arms. He kissed the crown of her head as her face nestled in his chest. "I'm sorry honey, I didn't mean to sound so disparaging." Reena slipped her arms around Dave and took him in a hug. Several others joined in, circling the pair in their arms. "Reena, honey?" Shawna prompted. "The guy who wrote it had a vision to make the story more interesting than 'just a bunch of old white guys. Give it a try. I think you'll like it." As often happened, Shawna was spot-on. This morning though, the trio were watching Dave's blu-ray of Twister. "You know, we'll have to watch this in April. Before or during the first severe thunderstorm warning." Dave said as he rounded the back corner to pass them without blocking their view. All three girls chuckled lightly and accepted the kisses Dave planted on them as he passed behind them on his way to the library. Entering, he found Vanessa lounging with a book. He took a seat in easy speaking distance without crowding her. "So, how are you settling in?" "Pretty well. It's; so peaceful here. I really expected a house with this many people in it to be more chaotic. I mean, there's a fun energy here, and a lot of life, but it's; so soothing here. Thank you, David. For accepting me, for just; being here to match with." "I'm enjoying having you here. Beyond the obvious, I mean." Nessa snickered at that. "You've slipped rather smoothly into the family and already I couldn't imagine this place, or us, without you." "That's so sweet, thank you." "Maybe once the whole state's vaccinated, we'll get some normalcy and get out to do the usual family things together." "When we get some normalcy again, you ought to marry Lupie." "I should marry all of you." "No. No, I don't feel that way. Lupie does. Olivia does. And maybe Janice. Shawna too, she has it bad for you. Becca is still young and sorting it all out. Same goes for Reena and Mel. I don't share that depth of bond. I wouldn't want to cheapen what they have with you by sharing a marriage ceremony when I don't have that connection. I damn well better be one of the bridesmaids though" A wry smile crossed Vanessa's face. "I care for you. I love you. I love this family. I am not in love with you." "If it weren't for this damn serum, you would be free to find someone to have that bond with." Vanessa's eyes watered. "Don't ever say that again." There was steel in every syllable. "I may not be in love with you, but this is one of the best relationships I've ever had. I have more joy; not mere happiness; joy in my life now than I have had in a very long time. If the serum caused this, then Thank God and bring it on. I wouldn't change what I have right now for anything. I know you care for me. I can feel it. I feel it from each of the others. What we have is special and I don't ever want to let it go." Dave stood and walked towards Vanessa. From one eye, a tear rolled down her cheek. "I haven't felt this safe and accepted since I was a little girl that didn't know what emotional pain was." She closed her eyes, surrendering, hopeful, to what he might do next. Dave bent down, bringing his face to hers. He kissed each eye gently. He kissed each tear streak. He kissed her gently on the nose, eliciting a small giggle. He kissed her lips, softly at first, growing firmer as she responded. She broke the kiss and opened her eyes in time to see his eyes opening. She could see the tears watering them. "You're going to make me fall in love with you aren't you?" "No. I'm going to give you every reason to, and let you decide." Dave reached underneath Vanessa and lifted her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him as he carried her. Olivia noticed them coming out of the library. With a small grin she began singing in a soft voice "Who; knows what to-morrow brings; in a world; few hearts survive ;” Dave tried scowling at her, but he couldn't get the grin off his face. As they neared the base of the stairs, Vanessa ceased her slow circuit of kissing Dave's cheek, neck and lips. "I think you better let me walk from here stud." Dave chuckled and lowered her feet to the floor. They rose up the stairs, side-by-side joined at the hips, shoulders, and lips. From below, they heard Olivia mutter "God that's hot." Reena Umm-hmmed her agreement. "My nipples are freaking diamonds right now." Entering the bedroom, Dave and Vanessa began removing each other's clothes, quickly, but without frenzy. They stood naked, at the end of the bed, kissing, holding and softly groping each other. Dave pressed in close and gripped Vanessa under the curve of her ass. He lifted her and tossed her into the middle of the bed. She squealed happily as she flew. Dave slowly crawled up the bed, kissing Vanessa as he went. He started by kissing the big toe of her left foot and proceeded down the top of her foot to her ankle. Then he switched to her right foot. When he reached her ankle, he continued laying soft, gentle kisses up her shin. Then again up her left shin. He avoided the backs of her calves, her kneecap and the inside of her knee. These spots were very ticklish for Vanessa. Becca loved the loss of control when Dave tickled her. Becca and Janice loved the counter play of tickling and sexual stimulation. Vanessa would mule-kick him through a wall if he tickled her. And be out of the mood. And be pissed for a few days. So no tickle-y He kissed his way up the tops and outsides of each leg. He kissed a wandering path around her abdomen, taking time at her belly button like a caravan merchant at an oasis. Vanessa moaned. Her belly button was one of her favorite places for Dave to play with. Dave began working his way upward again, kissing in a straight line that ran up from her navel between her tits. He looked up as he rose, seeing her eyes locked on him, hungry and happy. Pure joy radiated from her face. He reached the hollow of her neck and alternated kissing with light nibbling. Vanessa moaned again and shifted beneath him. This was another of her favorite spots. He kissed up to her jaw, across her jawline, to her lips. "Umm" Vanessa hummed as Dave settled in, his body pressing firmly against hers. He rested his weight on his elbows and knees (outside of hers) and took her hands in his, out to the sides of her head, their fingers interlaced. It was more sensual than sexual. After several minutes, Dave slipped his hands loose and moved lower for the next step. He broke the kiss. Vanessa whimpered and opened her eyes. She bit back a complaint about the end of the kiss, because she knew what was coming would be better. Dave kissed her chin, then her shoulder. He stroked the outside of each tit with his fingertips. He kissed from her shoulder down to the top of her tit. He kissed around her tit, never touching the areola. Then he placed tiny, soft kisses just at the border of her areola without brushing her nipple. Vanessa whimpered. His hand played with her other tit, likewise avoiding the areola. Vanessa squeaked as he took her nipple and areola in his mouth and suckled, flicking his tongue against her nipple. "Yes; ;” she clutched the sheets and writhed beneath him. It was delicious torture. He had her worked up and ready, but kept the foreplay going rather than enter her. One finger of his hand lightly brushed across her other nipple. Back and forth. Back and forth. Light pinch. "Oh, David, please baby." Dave chuckled. He met her eyes as he descended down her body again, taking less time than when he rose. He kissed her hip, then across her pelvis and down. He kissed her mound of Venus and descended with his mouth hovering over her labia, but not touching. He let his breath brush over her entrance. Then he pulled back further and kissed her inner thigh. He heard a strangled whine from above. He nibbled. He switched thighs. More shifting and squirming. Dave latched his mouth onto Vanessa's labia and suckled like a newborn. "Yes!" Her body lifted off the bed for several seconds. He flicked his tongue against her entrance before easing it inside of her. She let out a contented moan. He slid his hands along her sides and thighs. Dave lifted his eyes to look at Vanessa. Her eyes were closed in bliss. He moved marginally forward and took her clitoris into his mouth, massaging it with his lips and tongue. "Oh God!" her eyes flew open. Hands gripped sheets and pulled hard. Her feet lifted. Dave backed off, giving her a moment. He started crawling up the bed, over top of her. Vanessa pouted and locked eyes with him. Desire and need echoed back and forth between their eyes. Dave inserted himself into her wet, relaxed passage and slid forward purposefully. Vanessa issued a sound that was both a sigh and a moan signaling her satisfaction. Once again, Dave interlaced his fingers with hers. With his hands on top of hers, and all four hands beside Nessa's ears, Dave began to rock his body overtop of her. He held himself just low enough that his chest and ribs softly grazed over her erect nipples. With slow, gentle strokes, he raised the two of them towards ecstasy. Kissing softly, they communicated without words, just sighs, moans, and hums. Time stopped and the world fell away. Just two lovers wrapped in gauzy layers of lovemaking. Nessa's body trembled with anticipation for what felt like an eternity as Dave caressed and stimulated her, hitting all her pleasure spots just so, raising her gently to one delicious climax. He buried himself to the root within her as the dam burst forth. Her erotic writhing alternatively pushed him away and strove to swallow him within her. The oscillations of her wet passage seized his organ and sent him cascading over the cliff with her. Struck by the serum induced orgasm, Nessa clutched him tightly and howled her pleasure. When Nessa's grasp loosened, Dave slipped to lie beside her, holding her close. Drifting back into the conscious world, Nessa snuggled in close, draping an arm over him. "Hmm, so that's what the girls have been calling 'the full Dave', huh? I like it." Shawna's rotating early shift was today, allowing all of us to sit down as a family and finish discussing housing preferences. Mel came in from the kitchen once Shawna arrived. "We didn't quite get there last time, but with 12 or more people, we need a bigger kitchen." Lupie said emphatically. "Preferably with a double oven and a cooktop with five burners and a grill. Four burners and no grill is still okay. And gas, not electric." "Anything else for the kitchen?" "Well, an island, preferably with power to it, but with a cutting board top, and large enough for rolling out dough." Lupie paused, looking pensive. "Did I go too far?" "Not at all, that sounds great. Especially if I actually get to use it." Dave grinned back. Lupie smirked and rolled her eyes. "Oh, and one other condition; a nice big batch of tamales after we move in." Lupie's eyes danced. "Absolutely." "I was thinking," Reena said, "how about a backyard deck?" Dave interjected "Not really necessary. It would be good to have, but I can build a reliable deck. Especially with Livy involved. You can help too if you want." "If you can do renno, I may have work for you." Vanessa smirked. Dave laughed. "I still have a day job. Our house sure, but I'm not looking to make it a job. Oh, and what ever we get needs plenty of electrical outlets. If it's really necessary, I could run a few new breakers and circuits, but seriously, I'd rather stay away from that." Shawna looked alarmed. "Baby, I believe you when you say you've got skills, but I don't want you around one-ten, or worse, two-twenty." Dave returned with a scowling laugh, "That's why you turn it off at the box, dear." "Just be careful honey." "Yes, Peaches." That earned a laugh all around, as Shawna blew a kiss at him. Nessa looked at her. "Are you from Georgia?" "No, but my parents met there in college. Mom's from Georgia, Dad was just there for school. They raised me and my brother in St. Louis." "And you went there for your degree?" "Oh no. I knew I wanted to be a meteorologist since I was a young teen. I went to O U. With the National Weather Service center right there, I got experiences I could never have gotten elsewhere. Spent a good chunk of my upper-class and grad years chasing storms." "Sounds like a lot of fun." "Oh yeah." Nessa grinned with Shawna, then turned to Dave. "I have been asked to press the idea of the towers one more time. Not so much our immediate supervisor here, but the folks back in DC. Their argument is that it's more efficient." "Unbelievable." Dave managed to avoid grumbling. "You do realize that the same people that want to shove us into a shoebox are the same little hypocrites that scream their heads off when a CEO lays off workers to make his company more efficient. Both of them are promoting the math of what they want, ignoring what they don't, and neither actually gives a shit about the people they are using like pawns." Shawna, seated beside him, stroked his arm, a slight grin on her face. "Yeah, okay, I'll climb down off my soap box. But no, I do not want to live in an apartment tower. A neighborhood, sure. A diverse neighborhood sounds great. I'm not a fan of monochrome anyway." "Clearly," Nessa said. "Just looking around the room proves that." "I'm sorry, but the whole 'I know better than you' crowd pisses me off, whether it's the church variety, the lefty variety, or the old money variety." "Okay, okay," Nessa replied light heartedly. "I had to bring it up again. I've done so, and you've been quite clear. I'll get on the search tomorrow. It may take a bit, but I'm sure we can find something that meets our requirements." The conversation turned to other subjects, and the family splintered into little knots of discussions. Mel slipped back out to check on the meal she was making. Dave didn't know what it was, but it smelled really good. Well, he knew it was something with chicken. He decided to join Mel in the kitchen. "Hey, Mel, how's it goin'?" "Almost done." Mel turned her face to his and received the offered kiss. "Smells really good. Chicken soup?" "Chicken and dumplings. From scratch. I boiled the chicken earlier this afternoon. It's about time for me to mix the dumplings. After that, it'll be ready to eat in twenty minutes." Dave wrapped his arms around her, holding her close from behind as she watched the pot. "Perfect choice for a dreary day like today. And, I haven't had chicken and dumplings in a long time." "Well, I hope you like mine." "Oh, Mel," Dave said as he nuzzled his head against hers, "you know I like your dumplings." He traced the middle finger of each hand up her sides, pulling away before reaching her tits. She cackled, turning to face him. With a light smack on his shoulder she said, "You're an old lech," she stepped in for a kiss. "But you're my old lech." She waggled her eyebrows. Dave chuckled, resting his forehead against hers. Then the doorbell rang. "Go, I need to get on the dumplings anyway." Mel swatted him on the ass as he walked away. Jan was already at the door when Dave arrived. The soldier was just handing over the clipboard. Beside her stood a young black woman with her hair in several tight braids. She stood about 5'6", with eyes that appeared to prefer laughing, but bore the potential to penetrate obfuscation, a cute button nose and a bright red lipstick on her perfectly sized mouth. Large golden hoop earrings in her ears and tight black jeans on her legs were the only attire visible other than her thick coat. Given the near-freezing temperatures and drizzle that had gone on all day long, Dave could hardly blame her. The black handle and ribbing stood out starkly from the vivid, deep pink of her umbrella canopy. It looked thoroughly functional, and infinitely girlie; maybe a bit more Wednesday Addams than cheerleader, but that didn't bother Dave in the slightest. Jan handed the clipboard back to the soldier, who departed immediately. "Hello, my name is Janice, though I prefer Jan." She held out her hand, which was taken without trepidation. "And this is Dave." He likewise reached out and shook the lady's hand. "Come on inside. We were just about to sit down for dinner." "About twenty minutes," Dave supplied. "Mel; Melanie; is making chicken and dumplings." "Oh, that sounds really good. Especially with this weather." She pulled her roller case through the foyer and parked it just inside the living room. The ladies approached her, no more than three at once, and the early few drew her towards the center of the room as they greeted her and introduced themselves. Mel, having not taken a seat yet, exited to the kitchen again, reappearing barely a minute later. "It'll be about ten more minutes," she replied to the expectant faces that turned her way. Becca and Olivia immediately stood, heading to the kitchen. Apparently, it was their turn to set the table. The light conversations and sharing continued through the meal, interrupted only by nearly everyone asking for a second bowl (Dave had four, but made sure everyone else was done eating before the last two.) Of course, each family member took multiple opportunities to praise Mel for the quality of the meal, and the excellent choice for the dreary conditions. Dave listened in on the conversations around him, paying special attention to the ones involving the new arrival, Niki. Between his own conversations with her, he learned her full name was Nicole Lassiter, and she worked as the network administrator and network security administrator for a bank headquartered in Dallas. With all the losses, she was now over all computer issues that were not customer facing. Her little brother was still in college, hunkering down in the UGA dorms. Niki, her mom, and her dad each called him at least once a week both for their own peace of mind and to keep his spirits up. Niki's parents were recently vaccinated. Her mother had styled her hair before 'her baby girl' left for the Vax Center. The tight braids she wore were called a Senegalese twist. Since her mother was a hairdresser (not that she was seeing customers at the moment) she had extensions on hand to do her daughter up right. Niki's dad had just retired from road construction work, looking to open up a barbecue restaurant; right before the lockdowns hit. Dave also noticed a slight unsteadiness on occasion when Niki walked. It made him concerned for her well-being, but he wasn't sure how to bring it up without being rude. As the evening wore on, he noticed Niki making furtive glances his way. The next time she did, he made eye contact, lifting one eyebrow. She bit her lip and nodded. Dave rose from his seat and strode to her side. A few eyes followed them as he took her hand and led her upstairs. Dave guided her to the master bedroom. Niki quickly took a seat on the bed. "You know, I didn't ask you earlier: do you want to do this here, or in a separate room? Here, you're going to wind up with several other women in the bed as well. We still have a room you could wake up in with some privacy. Shawna and I use it sometimes to spend time together when she gets home from work, and she stores clothes in there so she can dress and not disturb anyone when she has an early morning shift, but nobody uses the bed in there." "No, here's fine, thank you." Looked pensive for a moment. And a little pained. "Are you okay? If you don't want to do this; " "No, no I'm fine, really. Well, I'm not fine, but you aren't the problem, not by a long shot. I pushed myself too hard this evening. I should have spent less time standing." Dave waited while she ordered her thoughts. "I haven't been completely honest with you, Dave. I only recently got to a point where I can walk without a cane. Over a year ago, I was t-boned by a drunk driver. Shattered my legs. It'd be a good bet that half the metal in this room, is in my bones right now." She let out an annoyed snort. "I used to run track. Even got a partial scholarship that helped me get my degree. I spent months in a wheelchair, and then a walker. After that, I moved up to those forearm crutches. During lockdown, I couldn't go to the doctor, so when I felt annoyed enough with the crutches I shifted to a simple cane. And now I've been walking without any aid for over a month, but it hurts like hell; and it's tiring." "You are one tough cookie." Dave said from the spot he'd taken beside her as she spoke. "I don't feel so tough. I feel beat up and worn out." Dave hugged her. "You want me to tuck you in and let you rest? We could do the imprinting tomorrow." "No, no I want to do this with you Dave. I just may need you to go easy. And probably help me undress." "Just to be clear, you're asking me to strip your clothes off, handle your body gently, and blow a load inside you?" Dave said with a hint of sarcasm. Niki giggled. "You seem man enough to handle the job." Dave answered her with a kiss, full on the lips, pressing firmly but with moderation. His hands drifted behind her shoulder blades. Niki responded, humming into the kiss and parting her lips. When Dave's tongue probed undemandingly, hers welcomed the visitor. Dave's hands roamed slowly, taking the first steps in learning the body of his newest lover. He enjoyed the feel of her in his hands. There was a looseness, as would be expected for an athlete that had been benched. Beneath that slight layer, there was a firm core. She was; exciting. And excited. Whatever she wanted in a man, she seemed to think Dave had it. Well, that and the serum had her amped up. Dave was finally getting past feeling guilty about that. Mostly. Dave started consciously directing his hands, seeking the buttons or clasps or zipper to loosen the neck of the tight black top she was wearing. Solid black panels with a black lace overlay stitched in at regular intervals. Finding the short zipper took no time at all. He next dropped his hands, seeking the hem of her shirt under her jeans waist. There was no hem. As his hands quested, he found bare hip, with cloth from the top still diving down her front and back. Just like a swimsuit. Then it struck him. He came up for air and play scowled at her. "You could have just said it was a bodysuit." She snickered. "Aw, where's the fun in that?" Dave kissed her. Then he gently shoved her backwards onto the bed. Her torso lay flat on the bed, her legs dangling off. Dave stood and faced her. Reaching down, he unbuttoned her jeans and lowered her zipper. Niki's eyes twinkled as Dave took hold of the cuff of her jeans and pulled them off. He missed the worried look in her eyes as the scars on her legs were exposed. That's because his eyes were locked on her trim brown legs. They stayed fixated on those lovely legs as he kneeled between them and began kissing her legs, first one then the other. All over her thighs, then, gently lifting, careful not to lift too high, he kissed her calves and shins. He lavished every inch of her legs with his lips and tongue. Niki moaned. Then she sniffled. Alerted, Dave brought his head up, locking his eyes on hers. Tears watered the bottom of her almond shaped sockets. "You make me feel beautiful again." "You always were." He kept his eyes on her as he kissed the inside of her knee. The kiss extended into suckling. He gave the spot a little nip, then moved his position by a few inches and giving the same attention, adding in a few strokes of his tongue tip. Niki's chest heaved. Dave could hear sobs amongst the moans as he switched to her other knee. He would have been alarmed except for the clearly cathartic tone. "Umm, David, please, I need you up here." With a grin, Dave worked his way, unhurried but not dawdling, up her leg, kissing and huffing hot breath on her exposed skin as he went. Reaching her fragrant core, Dave brought his fingers softly to the three little snaps holding the gusset of her bodysuit together. A gentle flick separated the two soaked flaps of cloth and revealed that Niki wore nothing underneath. The engorged, richly black outer labia of her nethers drenched in her arousal. Her inner labia petaled outward, yielding a peek at the pink interior. Dave blew one long, slow hot breath over her bare, quivering sex before latching his mouth on her. He suckled her lower lips as her back arched. Niki keened her pleasure while her arms beat a tattoo on the bed. "David, now, please, now." Dave shucked his shoes and quickly slipped his cargo shorts and boxers to the floor. In a flash, Dave was over top of her, dragging her up the bed like a leopard securing his prey in a tree. Niki's breath caught as he took charge of her body. The fire in her eyes was unmistakable. He kissed her deeply, then pulled away. With his eyes locked on hers, he moved himself to her entrance and pressed his cockhead just barely inside. The fluids leaked all over his throbbing cock touched her most sensitive places and set off a riot only attributable to the serum. Dave anchored her motions with his knees, pressed against her rear, but not enough to force her legs too far apart. "Fuck that was good." She paused for a deep breath. "Hmm, I'm all yours now Dave. Send me off to neverland, lover." Dave worked within her, slowly and gently at first, picking up pace slightly and a little more force when she signaled it was needed and acceptable. Her hums and moans continuously reminding him his actions were still mutually desired. His peak arrived and he shot hot ropes of cum with his cock buried deep in her, his cockhead brushing her cervix. Immediately, she shuddered, racked with the serum induced pleasure that forever locked her life with his. Dave held her in her throes until she went limp muttering "Imprinting; imprinting; imprinting ;” He rose, going to the bathroom to clean himself before returning with a wet washcloth and a hand towel to clean Niki. Once she was cleaned and dry, he snapped her body suit closed again and arranged her comfortably on the bed, beneath the covers. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead before heading downstairs to spend social time with the rest of his family. As he descended the staircase into the mild buzz of the other eight women happily sharing his life, his home, and his bed, Dave marveled at how amazing his life was. Chapter 10; Storm Winds. October 28, 2020 4:18am David's hand was halfway to the palmprint secured gun safe on the back side of his headboard before he realized he was even awake. With the vertical placement, and the; activity frequently occurring in the bed, he'd installed two Velcro loops to hold the pistol and magazine inside. He released the pistol and placed it on his chest before reaching back for the clip. Fortunately, only two hands and a part of one leg were draped over him at the moment. The four younger girls were in their rooms, leaving Lupie, Jan, Shawna, Vanessa, and his newest partner Nicole to share his bed. Nicole was one of the hands, and the partial leg. By consensus, the ladies decided she should get to curl up next to Dave for her imprinting sleep. Gingerly, Dave slipped free of his partners' limbs and slid down the bed onto the floor. Only then did he insert the magazine and work the slide. Flipping the safety on, he padded softly but quickly to the closet to grab a pair of shorts. He decided not to wear slippers this time. He might need the extra footing. Keeping close to the wall, he approached the bedroom door. With the door still shut, he took the safety off, but kept his finger out of the trigger well for the moment. Slowly, Dave eased the door open. Slipping through, he noticed a shape in the hallway, against the wall, at the top of the stairs. Too dark to identify an individual, the figure made the 'Join Me' signal his friend Carter had taught him long ago. He did not raise his weapon. Sliding along the wall silently, just the way he'd practiced at least once every year, Dave approached. Proximity gave the reassurance the lighting denied at a distance. Liv crouched in the hallway, pistol in hand, wearing only a light nightgown that reached most of the way to her knees. With a quick series of hand signals, Dave told Liv to follow at a distance as he prepared to descend the stairs as quietly as possible. Liv signaled back that she should lead, but apparently had no signal for why. Dave negated the suggestion, and started down the stairs. He reached the lower landing with no incident. His nerves had been raw as he got halfway down and the solid wall gave way to railing. Now he crouched on one knee, Liv a few steps up from the landing, but with good vision on the living room area, both of them listening. The nighttime chirping of mockingbirds was absent. No flutter of wings or rustle of raccoons, possums, or skunks. Out here on the wild edge of the metroplex, there was always something moving at night. Dave signaled for Liv to post up on the landing and then moved along the wall of the stairs, in front of the media center to the corner of the living room where the downstairs hallway started. He was now directly below the spot Liv had occupied when he first emerged from the bedroom. And just two steps from his secured gun closet recessed under the stairs and hidden behind a normal looking panel. Dave had only one twelve round magazine. Liv had purchased a larger safe and had a spare ten round magazine in addition to the one in her weapon. It was a bit awkward carrying it since she had no pockets, but Carter had taught a variety of firing stances, one of which allowed carrying something in the non-dominant hand. By the absence of natural sounds, somebody was outside. He did not know how many, or how they were armed, but he was sure they weren't here in the oh-my-god-it's-early hours for a friendly visit. He slid the cover for the pin pad open so he could punch in the unlock code. Dave heard a crashing thump at the door followed by cursing. The security door worked just fine. He didn't get a chance to smile though. The glass door at the back of the living room shattered from several rounds. Dave squared his body with the opening just as two men stepped through. The first man fell as Dave brought his weapon up. The second went down just as his head turned to his right to see Liv's position flanking their breach. Dave heard a tinkling sound from the entry. Someone was breaking the window in the front parlor. Now he was worried. The thick pillar at the free corner of the landing would give Liv scant protection against a firearm. Dave stayed low, stepping away from his corner. It gave him protection against someone firing from the sliding door breach, but he had no angle to fire into the entryway. With the furniture screening him from the glass door breach, he approached the arch between the entry and living room. Loud whispers drifted in from his right. The remaining attackers on the deck seemed to be hesitant about testing themselves against the defenses. He was straining to pick out words when a head began to resolve itself in the entry. Dave fired two rounds. The body fell. He held his position, weapon ready. Out back he heard an angry growl, "Hey, one of those women is my sister!" The reply was too low to understand the words, but the snideness came through clearly. As did the answering gunshot. What the hell is going on? They're shooting each other now? Hey, they don't need to be on my property for that! The fallen body in front of Dave slid backwards. Hands appeared from the foyer and the broken glass door, but they were empty. The hands gripped a pair of ankles of one downed man each and yanked them back to where the hands came from. This repeated for the second body near the glass door. Wet sickening sounds ensued, backed up by an occasional retching noise. Murmurs were heard. Someone said something about a marker and a bag. "David?!" Shawna's voice called from up the stairs. That wasn't the only sound from upstairs. Roscoe was barking his head off. Furtive whispers indicated some of his family were at the top of the stairs with Shawna. "Keep everyone up there. Open up the armory in the main closet and distribute weapons to the adults. Everything Lt. Malcolm Reed gave us is in there. Arm up and take defensive positions upstairs." That was a bluff. Hopefully enough of one to drive the attackers away. Dave was sure Shawna would recognize the name of the armory officer from Enterprise and catch on. The sounds from the foyer and back deck took on a hurried pace before Dave heard footsteps rushing away. Dave and Olivia exchanged glances, and then immediately darted their eyes back to the penetration points. This happened a few more times over the next several minutes. "Looks like we're clear." "Yeah, just stay on your toes." "I know. I grew up under the same guy that trained you, remember?" "Vividly." Cautious footsteps descended the stairs. "David, Olivia, it's Shawna. I'm coming down." Slowly, Shawna came into view, feet first on the exposed portion of the staircase. Her pink satin nightgown falling just past her knees gave her some coverage, but made Dave aware of the cold, damp air pouring in from both breaches. "Are you two okay? Is it safe?" "For now. We've got two big holes in the house, so maybe keep everybody up there where it's warm unless they're needed down here." Dave paused for a second. "Ask Nessa and Mel to look out the upstairs windows. See if they can spot these guys leaving, or lying in wait." Shawna disappeared upstairs, then came back down after a brief verbal exchange. Shawna came down to the lower landing and spoke briefly with Livy, giving her a hug. Then she came to Dave. She hugged him fiercely. Her voice shook as she said thickly, "For a little bit there, I thought I was going to lose you." "We held." Dave managed to keep most of the nervous tension and post-adrenaline shake out of his voice. By the look in her eye, Shawna wasn't fooled a bit. Dave led her to the beginning of the hallway, the cubby under the stairs. He whispered the passcode in her ear so she could unlock it. That had been the galling thing during the attack. His full stash of weapons had been right beside his shoulder, but he couldn't spare the attention to unlock it. Clearly, he needed to rethink his arrangements. Shawna handed out a thigh holster for him, which he only saw peripherally as he kept watch. The weight told him immediately she'd placed two pre-filled magazines in there for him. He pulled one out for a quick check. No use him having Livy's mags. "I go to the pistol range about every other month. Nothing fancy, but I'm a decent shot and I know the difference between ten mil and nine mil. What? It's a very satisfying skill to have, and a great way to blow off some stress." Dave chuckled and turned his head, with a quick lean to her and gave her a peck on the cheek. Then he stepped back out to his post. He felt Shawna walking out, so he moved to the other side of the hallway so she could make her way to Livy with the other thigh holster without crossing Dave's line of sight. She paused at his shoulder. "Dave, do you want the other weapons in there?" Dave thought for a minute. He knew which ones Shawna had to mean. He sighed, "Yeah. A tac vest and one of the MP5's. Tac vests should already have six loaded magazines in the pockets. Get two and give the other vest and weapon to Liv. Then find out if anyone upstairs has any weapons training. You said you shoot, how good are you?" Shawna handed out a vest first, which Dave quickly donned. "With silhouette targets, I can put four out of five rounds through the heart. Now, I haven't gotten to shoot since the lockdowns, but I was pretty regular before." She handed him one of the MP5's which Dave quickly slung over his head and shoulder, inserted a magazine he'd pulled from the vest and chambered a round, then safed the weapon. "Are those; ?" "Semiauto. Carter went to a lot of work to make sure we had everything we could legally have, but never anything illegal. They do have the integral noise suppressor. It was expensive as hell and took forever plus a mountain of paperwork, but it's all legal. At least in Texas." "God Bless Texas," she said with a gleam in her eye. Shawna gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before sauntering over to Livy, a thigh holster clutched in one hand, a tac vest in the other, and an MP5 slung over her neck. A second thigh holster, with a nine millimeter and magazines was strapped to her sleek, powerful thigh. Shawna handed off the gear to Olivia, then swiftly moved back to the concealed weapons closet. She was in there for quite a while before emerging. "There was only one more pre-loaded nine mil mag, so I had to load a few or just walk around with one. The second choice didn't sound viable." "Agreed." Dave grasped Shawna's bicep and pulled her in for a quick kiss on the cheek. She beamed at him after returning the kiss, then headed upstairs. Dave heard Liv saying something to Shawna as she passed by. An eternity and a short time later, two sets of footsteps descended the staircase. Melanie followed behind Shawna. "Carter and Liv both took me to the range several times. I even went to a tactical course once my aim was; acceptable. But only with pistol. I've never shot anything else." "Good enough. There's another thigh holster and pistol inside. What did Carter train you on? "Nine millimeter. He said it was so common it made a good starting point. Once with Liv, we rented shotguns at an outdoor range and I was decent with it." "Pistol will do fine. Shawna, help her get some magazines loaded. Has anyone called for police?" Mel swallowed nervously. "I didn't see anyone waiting in the back yard, but the deck;” "Yes?" "It's; disturbing. Dave, be careful." Dave nodded, as did Liv. Shawna spoke up as she followed Mel in. It was tight with two adults in there, but doable. At three it would have been cramped. "Lupie called. They didn't know how long before someone responds. They're stretched thin and the night shift is the least staffed." Wordlessly, she handed over a t-shirt she'd grabbed while she was upstairs. Dave slipped the tac vest off, donned the shirt, then the tac vest again. While he dressed, he spoke with his partners. "Fuck. Okay, here's what's gonna happen. You two take defensive positions on the stairs. One of you take the lower landing, one further up, just below the ceiling line. Then Liv and I will go out through the deck, and check the exterior all the way around." "I'll take the landing," Mel said. "I've had training with Carter, I should be the one exposed." "You sure?" Shawna prodded. "Yeah." "Okay, take your positions then." Dave kissed each one on the cheek before they walked away. When both had taken their places, Liv came over to him. Dave had one more instruction for Shawna. "Oh, and tell Lupie to call the police again, let them know we are clearing the grounds so they don't just shoot us on sight." Shawna nodded and crept upwards. Jan came down the stairs, bearing a pair of shoes for Dave and Liv, a pair of socks stuck into one shoe for each of them. After handing over the shoes, Jan headed back upstairs. They shod themselves quietly. "So, me on point?" Liv asked as she finished. "No, I'll take point, you cover me." "Dave, if anything happens to you, we're all in big trouble." "That's why you're watching my back. Otherwise, I'd go out there solo and leave you in charge here." "Like hell you would. I ain't some; " "I know you are capable, but I'm still going to shield you from as much risk as I can." Liv rolled her eyes. "Gee, I feel safe and offended all at once." Dave stared at her stony. "Are we done here? Ready to go?" "Shit, Dad really rubbed off on you. Yeah, let's do this." Olivia fell in behind Dave as he headed straight for the glass door breach. Both held their weapons ready, jutting forward with the strap taut around their necks and backs. Dave paused at the breach. "Off safe." "Roger." Dave examined the scene visible through the broken glass and the flapping curtain. Blood trails led out the breach from the various points where the bodies of the invaders had landed. He could see the legs of a few of them still on the deck. He turned his head to catch first Shawna's then Mel's eyes, nodded, and proceeded cautiously but swiftly out the breach. He swiveled right going out, knowing Liv would go left, just as her father had taught them for years. Each stopped at the furthest extension of the deck in their direction, scanning the deck and yard in a full semicircle, their backs to the house. There was no damage to the fence, and no apparent damage to the greenhouse or anything else in the backyard. The deck however; well, it wasn't damaged. The bodies on it were. Each had the pants and underwear pulled down and a huge bloody mess where the genitals once were. Blood continued to ooze out of the wounds, though clearly it had poured out initially. Dave signaled his intent to clear the greenhouse. Liv followed him. It didn't take long to clear. They emerged quickly, rescanning the backyard as they did. With Liv trailing, Dave exited the backyard through the side gate. The side yard showed no disturbance. In the front yard, they found the same gruesome sight as the back deck. Here though, they found an empty plastic baggie with blood spatter. And a few bloody fingerprints. The bag snagged under the heel of the corpse, ensuring the light wind was insufficient to blow it away. Dave and Liv finished the sweep, checking the other side yard, which showed no signs of disturbance. "I think we're safe, for now. These guys bugged out." "Yeah, but why did they cut their buddies' junk off?" Dave shivered, and not from the crummy weather. Well, maybe a little from the weather. He was barely dressed after all. "Let's get inside." Since the front door was still locked, they traipsed back through the side yard to the gate and came in through the broken glass door. "Coming in." Dave called before entering. "No sign of anyone out there." The relief on Mel and Shawna's faces was evident. Their shoulders relaxed slightly. "Can you two keep watch here? I'm gonna talk to the others, then we'll both get dressed, and then I'll call the police again." At the top of the stairs, four of Dave's partners wrapped him in hugs muttering their relief that he was still in one piece. He could see Lupie gazing at him, beseechingly as she held Esme close, soothing her. A loud bang against a door at the end of the hall reminded Dave of other necessities. "You better go let Roscoe out so he can see that we're all intact," Dave chuckled. As Olivia opened the door, Roscoe bolted from the room, turning only when she bellowed "Roscoe, Heel." That cut through his canine brain fog of 'defense mode'. He turned to her, sniffing as if checking on her condition. Liv knelt in front of him. She placed her hands on either side of his face and began stroking his neck and back while speaking softly, in calm tones. After a few whimpers, he started aggressively licking her face and putting his paws on her shoulders. Addressing his family, Dave said, "Liv and I need to get dressed. We need to call the police again, and we need to get those holes sealed." "Holes?" Jan asked. "Yeah, they busted in the sliding door and a window in the parlor. It's not quite as cold and miserable downstairs as it is outside, but it's close enough. For now, stay upstairs unless you have something you need to do down there. You can still run down to grab a book, or make meals or snacks. For tv, use the spare room that Shawna uses when she has morning shifts." "We could just use our laptops for streaming, Dave. We'll be fine." Reena added. She looked a bit bleary. To be fair, everyone seemed caught in some whipsaw state of alert and drowsy. Not surprising, given what they'd just been through. Dave patted her on the shoulder and kissed the crown of her head in appreciation. Releasing Reena, Dave knelt in front of Esme, who was showing clear signs of worry and strain. He enveloped her in his arms and held her close. "It's okay now, baby girl. We're all okay now." He held her, stroking her hair and back soothingly. After several minutes had passed, he loosened his grip and began to stand. Esme's arms immediately came up, wrapping Dave in a vise-grip hug. She didn't say anything, she didn't cry or whimper. She just clutched him tightly. Dave eyed Lupie, but she just looked back at him imploringly. He reached a hand out to her and she grabbed on immediately. He looked around at the others and saw the need for reassurance was still there. Olivia had already slipped into her room with Roscoe to get dressed. Becca, Reena, Jan, Nessa and Lupie all rushed to surround him the moment he waved his hand to 'bring it in'. Esme was wedged between Dave and Lupie. She finally relaxed her grip on Dave, and switched over to her mother. With a silent chuckle, Dave kissed Lupie on the cheek and slipped off to the master bedroom. Jan followed after him. "I thought I'd call the police and put it on speaker so you could talk to them while getting dressed." Dave nodded, then wrapped her in a hug and gave her a closed mouth kiss that was no less affectionate for its chasteness. Reluctantly, he released her and headed into the closet to collect some clothes. Jan dialed 911 as soon as Dave emerged. Police staffing was so low, all calls went through the emergency center. Long held habits are hard to break, though. Especially when those habits are codified in a manual. That's what they call 'procedure'. "911, what's your emergency?" "We called earlier about a break in. The people trying to break in have left, except the ones we shot," Dave called out in clear, even tones for the speaker. "Is anyone injured?" The operator droned, as if she been on duty too long, too many days in a row. "No, ma'am," Dave said. "No one in my family was hit, and the ones we shot are dead." "Are you sure they're dead?" "Yes ma'am. The guy that taught me how to shoot didn't teach me to miss. Besides, before they left, the invaders; mutilated the bodies. If they hadn't died from the gunshots, they'd have died from the blood loss." Dave was watching Jan's face when he mentioned the mutilation. Not the best choice, since he nearly fell over pulling on his cargo pants. It did allow him to see the flinch that briefly flitted across her face before she reasserted control. "Did you say mutilated, sir?" The tones were even, obviously someone that had worked 911 for years. Still, there were notes of 'oh shit' blended with 'what fucking else?' "I did." "Would you please specify the nature of the mutilation?" "The genitals of the deceased were removed." A short silence reigned on the line. "Could you repeat that sir?" The operator's voice sounded slightly more alert. Dave pulled his pre-tied sneakers on as he said, "the scrotum was removed from each of the corpses." This conversation was now added to the thick stack of reasons to be very glad of the distance between the master bedroom and Esme's bedroom. Lupie and the others had taken her there when Dave walked away. Between the walk-in closet and Dave's office, there was little chance sounds from the bedroom penetrated that far. "Are you certain the perpetrators have left?" "Yes ma'am, one of my partners and I swept the area; our yard anyway; and found no one remaining. All we found were the bodies that the survivors had drug back out of the house and carved up." "So the shooting happened inside the house?" "Correct." "I'm noting all this in the file sir. I'm appending this report to the prior calls your partner made requesting assistance. Since you are no longer in immediate danger, I am diverting the patrol response. They will get to you to you after attending to higher level calls." Even as she spoke, the woman's voice grew more exhausted, like a Walmart employee on Black Friday at about 3pm. "It's been almost an hour since the initial break in. Why has it taken so long?" "Sir, I'm not at liberty to discuss that, but I do apologize. I have no control over response times. I will dispatch a detective to investigate as well. Until then, please leave the scene undisturbed." "How long will that take? Can you give me an estimate?" "Probably a few hours, sir. There are very few detectives working night shift, so they'll likely hand this over to the dayshift investigators." "Hours? These guys busted in my sliding door and broke a large window in the parlor. It's making for quite a chilly cross breeze. And that's not even counting the blood stains and blood trails in my living room and entryway." Dave's voice had begun to rise. "Sorry, I'm trying to maintain a level tone here, but that's a bit difficult given what's happened and what you're telling me." The voice on the other end reached its most hollow state. "I'm sorry sir, I can't change those realities. Please understand that it will be three hours minimum before a detective would reach you. More likely it will be three hours before a detective is assigned to your case. Patrol won't take that long, but it won't be immediate." Dave took a deep, cleansing breath. It was only marginally useful, but it helped him keep his tone level. "And what is the longest likely time before a detective gets out here?" "Possibly six to eight hours sir." "That's; " Dave caught himself. And formed a plan immediately. "Fine. We'll be ready when the detective arrives." He hung up. Dave took a deep breath, staring intently at the far wall, fully aware of Jan quietly and patiently waiting off to his right. He rubbed his face, then snatched up his t-shirt and pulled it on. "Okay, let's meet with everyone else. I have a plan, and we can deal with this." Dave said as he stood. With a concerned look to Niki's slumbering form, he strapped the thigh holster in place and fastened the tac vest as he walked. The MP5 he slung over his neck and shoulder, then pulled around to his back. To be continued in part 9, Based on a post by RonanJWilkerson, in 12 parts, for Literotica.

Send us a textRyan Pineda and Steve Weatherford dive into supernatural encounters, miraculous healings, and life-changing spiritual gifts sparked by impartation and the Holy Spirit's power.⁣⁣Watch the full interview here (originally aired February 2024) - https://youtu.be/gjhfggW4TF4⁣⁣Connect with Steve⁣Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/weatherford5/⁣YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/@steveweatherford5⁣Website - https://thesteveweatherford.com/⁣⁣__________⁣⁣Join our private mastermind for elite business leaders who golf. https://www.mastermind19.com⁣⁣Want to scale your business? Attend our next Forge event! https://theforge.vip⁣⁣Join a free Bible study for Christian business leaders. https://www.tentmakers.us⁣__________⁣⁣CHAPTERS: ⁣00:00 - Intro: The Year My Faith Was Tested  ⁣01:30 - Struck by God's Power During Prayer  ⁣03:00 - Casting Out Demons & Prophetic Dreams  ⁣04:00 - A Tumor Vanished After This Prayer  ⁣06:00 - From Conservative Church to Supernatural Faith  ⁣07:45 - Seeing Real Prophecy Happen Live  ⁣09:30 - How Spiritual Gifts Are “Caught, Not Taught”  ⁣11:45 - Visions About Friends That Came True  ⁣13:00 - Prophecy is for EveryoneLearn how to invest in real estate with the Cashflow 2.0 System! Your business in a box with 1:1 coaching, motivated seller leads, & softwares. https://www.wealthyinvestor.com/Want to work 1:1 with Ryan Pineda? Apply at ryanpineda.comJoin our FREE community, weekly calls, and bible studies for Christian entrepreneurs and business people. https://tentmakers.us/Want to grow your business and network with elite entrepreneurs on world-class golf courses? Apply now to join Mastermind19 – Ryan Pineda's private golf mastermind for high-level founders and dealmakers. www.mastermind19.com--- About Ryan Pineda: Ryan Pineda has been in the real estate industry since 2010 and has invested in over $100,000,000 of real estate. He has completed over 700 flips and wholesales, and he owns over 650 rental units. As an entrepreneur, he has founded seven different businesses that have generated 7-8 figures of revenue. Ryan has amassed over 2 million followers on social media and has generated over 1 billion views online. Starting as a minor league baseball player making less than $2,000 a month, Ryan is now worth over $100 million. He shares his experiences in building wealth and believes that anyone can change their life with real estate investing. ...

AP correspondent Ben Thomas reports on U.S. airstrikes in Nigeria.

AP's Lisa Dwyer reports that the U.S. has struck Islamic State targets in Nigeria.

At 4:22 p.m. on what should have been an ordinary December afternoon, gunfire erupted inside the engineering building at Providence College. Students preparing for final exams found themselves barricaded in classrooms as text alerts warned, “Hide. Stay where you are. Silence your phone.” This week on Zone 7, Sheryl McCollum and retired FBI Special Agent Scott Duffey revisit the Providence College shooting, where a day of finals spiraled into chaos and tragedy. Together, they discuss the confusion inside the building, the calm suspect caught on camera, and the observant witness whose attention to detail helped identify him. Sheryl and Scott examine what went right, what went wrong, and how information, instinct, and timing shaped the investigation. Highlights: • (0:00) Welcome to Zone 7 with Sheryl McCollum and returning guest Scott Duffey to discuss the Providence College shooting and the law-enforcement response that followed • (5:45) The moment violence reached Providence College: students taking finals as shots rang out • (12:30) “Nobody was prepared to take this person on”: why Providence College was a soft target • (15:30) Behavioral clues and why the suspect didn’t fit the usual active-shooter profile • (18:30) How video surveillance, community vigilance, and digital evidence guided the search • (21:15) Law enforcement press conferences and why clear, real-time communication with the public is critical • (25:00) The second engineer’s murder: coincidence or connection? • (28:30) Theorizing motive and method• (31:00) The suspect’s calm demeanor and cultural clues that caught investigators’ attention • (34:45) Terrorism concerns, global context, and seasonal timing during the holidays • (39:00) Update: the shooter found deceased; press conference missteps and misinformation • (43:15) The breakthrough witness whose attention to detail broke open the case • (48:30) Closing thoughts on the investigation, the likelihood of a manifesto, and why violent offenders rarely act in silence Guest Bio: Scott Duffey is a retired FBI Supervisory Special Agent with more than two decades of service in the Bureau’s Baltimore Division, including assignments with the Wilmington Resident Agency and the Delaware Violent Crimes Task Force. He now directs the Criminal Justice Institute at Wilmington University, where he teaches interview and interrogation techniques to law enforcement professionals. Duffey also provides on-air crime analysis for FOX, CNN, NewsNation, and the Wildlife CSI Academy, continuing to educate, inform, and engage audiences worldwide. Enjoying Zone 7? Leave a rating and review where you listen to podcasts. Your feedback helps others find the show and supports the mission to educate, engage, and inspire. Sheryl “Mac” McCollum is an active crime scene investigator for a Metro Atlanta Police Department and the director of the Cold Case Investigative Research Institute, which partners with colleges and universities nationwide. With more than 4 decades of experience, she has worked on thousands of cold cases using her investigative system, The Last 24/361, which integrates evidence, media, and advanced forensic testing. Her work on high-profile cases, including The Boston Strangler, Natalie Holloway, Tupac Shakur and the Moore’s Ford Bridge lynching, led to her Emmy Award for CSI: Atlanta and induction into the National Law Enforcement Hall of Fame in 2023. Social Links: • Email: coldcase2004@gmail.com • Twitter: @ColdCaseTips • Facebook: @sheryl.mccollum • Instagram: @officialzone7podcast Preorder Sheryl’s upcoming book, Swans Don’t Swim in a Sewer: Lessons in Life,Justice, and Joy from a Forensic Scientist, releasing May 2026 from Simon and Schuster. https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Swans-Dont-Swim-in-a-Sewer/Sheryl-Mac-McCollum/9798895652824 See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In March 2024 Anna Wells became the fourth person, and first woman, to complete all 282 Munros in a single winter season. She started on Dec 22nd 2023 and took a little under 83 days, equalling the record set by Martin Moran in 1985. Helen Rennard has subsequently lowered the time to 80 days and 9.5hrs in winter 2024-25 (Episode 47). For related episodes see also Ep 12, 15, 35, and future Ep 58.Anna was introduced to indoor climbing at the age of 12, and was a member of the GB Ice Climbing team for 4 years, competing all over the world in dry tooling events. As well as climbing extensively in the UK, she has climbed on Yosemite's El Capitan, the high summits of the Alps, and even on the chalk cliffs of the Isle of White.Anna talks us through her several careers - in which she has worked as a doctor, an alpine babysitter / transfer driver, a mountaineering instructor, and as a risk model analyst. She enjoys the sudden inspiration of a 'spark' of an idea which has led her to adventures such as attempting to climb all the 4000m peaks of the Alps in one summer, as well as the Winter Munro round.We talk about her Munro round and her unique approach which involved choosing 'unbreakable loops' of hills to fit the weather conditions throughout the season - big loops with many Munros in good weather, smaller loops in difficult weather or when fatigued. She preferred to do bigger days and then return to the comfort of a bed, rather than relying on bothies or van dossing. Anna found her voice particularly as a role model for women, and had many positive interactions and generous offers of support throughout her trip.Struck down by a lurgy in the final stages of the round, she lay ill while frustratingly good weather reigned outside. Recovering quickly she returned to the hills and finished her final Munro on Cairn Gorm, equalling Martin Moran's record of 83 days (rounded up in both instances).Anna's book 'Breaking the Snowline' tells her Winter Munro Round story and can be purchased via her website at: shop.rocksandtrails.com/If you want to buy me a cuppa to help support the podcast, thank you and please do at: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://ko-fi.com/finlaywild⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

Today we present pastor Lloyd's final study in Acts.  If you've been with us since the beginning, you've witnessed some incredible things!  You may recall that the Lord promised Paul that He'd be in Rome one day, and today is that day.  Our final study is in the final chapter of this amazing account, written by Doctor Luke. Join us in Acts twenty-eight.

Fri, Dec 19 4:47 AM → 5:06 AM CMPD Independence Division City worker struck by vehicle Radio Systems: - Charlotte UASI Region

Fr Toby explains the crucial difference between the response of Zechariah to the angel that we hear today and that of Mary.WORD FOR TODAY is broadcast live on Radio Maria on weekdays at 1:15pm and is rebroadcast at 12:15am and 5:45am the following day. In it our Priest Director Fr Toby offers a reflection, usually drawing from the Mass readings of the day. If you enjoyed this programme, please consider supporting us with a one-off or monthly donation. It is only through the generosity of our listeners that we are able to be a Christian voice by your side. ⁠www.radiomariaengland.uk⁠  

Today we begin pastor Lloyd's final study in the book of Acts, as we turn to chapter twenty-eight.  What an incredible journey it's been, to see the birth of the Christian church, the descending of the Holy Spirit, the conversion of Saul, and all the other things that have happened in this book.  Paul finds himself now shipwrecked and on the island of Malta.  But God had promised him that he would make it to Rome, the voyage would resume, and not even a serpent could prevent that from happening! 

Animation crosses all cultures, genders, and racial barriers, delivering inspirational storytelling in a way that no other medium can. Phil Cunningham is a filmmaker and producer behind the upcoming animated film, David, and his journey to creating this phenomenal film began in the inspiring, beautiful, and rugged wilderness of Zimbabwe. Struck with the adventurous spirit of a creative and thrilling God, he envisioned a film portraying the life of King David, a shepherd boy who became the greatest king of Israel - a man after God's own heart. Theaters across the country are already selling out as families vie to get tickets to see David, a film highlighting the beauty of God's heart and the miracles He works through even the most unlikely heroes.TAKEAWAYSJoin Angel Guild to get two free movie tickets every month to see the studios' upcoming films here: https://www.angel.com/tinagHundreds of people from 32 countries came together to make David and the vision for the movie started nearly 30 years agoAnimation transcends all age groups, but connects especially well with younger audiencesGod gives us a dose of humility when we go into the wilderness during times of trial and tribulation

2025-12-14 | UPDATES #078 | A Russian drone hits Turkish cargo vessel VIVA in the Black Sea. This matters for Turkey, maritime security, and Ukraine's campaign against Russia's “shadow fleet.” We look at the increased risk for shipping in the black sea, both those that serve Ukraine's legitimate and legal export needs, and those that form part of Russia grey fleet trading illegally in oil. Ukraine says Russia hit a Turkish civilian cargo ship with a drone — a vessel carrying sunflower oil to Egypt — inside what Ukraine describes as a protected coastal “grain corridor.” And it happened within hours of Erdoğan raising port strikes with Putin. On Saturday, 13 December 2025, Ukraine's navy accused Russia of a deliberate drone strike on the Turkish vessel VIVA, describing it as a “targeted strike” on a civilian ship heading to Egypt with sunflower oil. (Reuters)----------SOURCES: Reuters (Dec 13, 2025): Ukraine says Russian drone attack hit civilian Turkish vessel The Moscow Times / AFP (Dec 14, 2025): Ukraine says Russian drone hit Turkish cargo vessel VIVAReuters (Dec 12, 2025): Vessel on fire after Russian attack on Ukraine's Odesa region, sources sayReuters (Dec 13, 2025): Erdoğan comments after Putin meeting; calls to protect ports/energy facilities Turkey MFA statement (Dec 12, 2025): Chornomorsk port attack; maritime security/freedom of navigation Ukrinform (Dec 13, 2025): Turkey urges halt to attacks on energy and port infrastructureKyiv Independent (Dec 14, 2025): Mentions *VIVA* incident amid broader strikes Ukrainian Pravda (Dec 13, 2025): Ukraine Navy statement on “targeted strike” against VIVAReuters (Dec 10, 2025) background: Ukraine disables “shadow fleet” tanker Dashan with sea dronesBackground (outside 48h): Beşiktaş Shipping halts Russia-linked voyages after explosions----------Silicon Curtain is a part of the Christmas Tree Trucks 2025 campaign - an ambitious fundraiser led by a group of our wonderful team of information warriors raising 110,000 EUR for the Ukrainian army. https://car4ukraine.com/campaigns/christmas-tree-trucks-2025-silicon-curtainThe Goal of the Campaign for the Silicon Curtain community:- 1 armoured battle-ready pickupWe are sourcing all vehicles around 2010-2017 or newer, mainly Toyota Hilux or Mitsubishi L200, with low mileage and fully serviced. These are some of the greatest and the most reliable pickups possible to be on the frontline in Ukraine. Who will receive the vehicles?https://car4ukraine.com/campaigns/christmas-tree-trucks-2025-silicon-curtain- The 38th Marine Brigade, who alone held Krynki for 124 days, receiving the Military Cross of Honour.- The 1027th Anti-aircraft and artillery regiment. Honoured by NATO as Defender of the Year 2024 and recipient of the Military Cross of Honour.- 104th Separate Brigade, Infantry, who alone held Kherson for 100 days, establishing conditions for the liberation of the city.- 93rd Brigade "Kholodnyi Yar", Black Raven Unmanned Systems Battalion ----------SILICON CURTAIN FILM FUNDRAISERA project to make a documentary film in Ukraine, to raise awareness of Ukraine's struggle and in supporting a team running aid convoys to Ukraine's front-line towns.https://buymeacoffee.com/siliconcurtain/extras----------SILICON CURTAIN LIVE EVENTS - FUNDRAISER CAMPAIGN Events in 2025 - Advocacy for a Ukrainian victory with Silicon Curtainhttps://buymeacoffee.com/siliconcurtain/extrasOur events of the first half of the year in Lviv, Kyiv and Odesa were a huge success. Now we need to maintain this momentum, and change the tide towards a Ukrainian victory. The Silicon Curtain Roadshow is an ambitious campaign to run a minimum of 12 events in 2025, and potentially many more. Any support you can provide for the fundraising campaign would be gratefully appreciated. https://buymeacoffee.com/siliconcurtain/extras----------SUPPORT THE CHANNEL:https://www.buymeacoffee.com/siliconcurtainhttps://www.patreon.com/siliconcurtain----------

Andy Beach from Engines of Change explains what the deal means and how it might set a precedent for the future.Starring Tom Merritt and Andy Beach.https://www.enginesofchange.ai/ Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Originally recorded and released on Dec. 11, 2025.Tune in December 11, 2025, at 5:30 PM ET as Amanda Grace explores the spiritual implications of recent events and their impact on the nation. Gain insights, guidance, and clarity in today's conservative atmosphere. Don't miss this powerful broadcast!Prayer Lines now available Mon - Fri 9am-5pm EST. CALL 845-743-6500 or 845-743-2583 The Revelationary War is available NOW! Get your copy here: https://buff.ly/4fnuDd7Preorder Amanda's second book, Brace for Impact: https://buff.ly/PiQgPcE Music Copyright References:-131615741-Awards Inspirational Cinematic Music (Short 3) [Upbeat Nomination Epic Orchestra] Stock Media provided by JadSound / Pond5-21981893-Corporate And Inspirational Cinematic Background Music (1.00 Minutes Version) Stock Media provided by StockAudios / Pond5-151471022-Uplifting Inspirational CorporateStock Media provided by Patrick_Schlebes / Pond5-154756307-Magic Fireflies Loop Version2(Modern And Relaxing Background) Stock Media provided by Lesya_NZ / Pond5-123859534-Successful Product Presentation 60S - P5 Stock Media provided by Wolfgangwoehrle / Pond5-105166597-Believe in You (Inspirational And Uplifting)- P5 Stock Media provided by DivaProductionMusic / Pond5Music License: https://www.pond5.com/legal/license/20230221Purchase ID/Date: 7365245 / 9-29-2023 Website: https://arkofgrace.orgPrayer Requests: https://arkofgrace.org/prayer-requestsDonate: https://arkofgrace.org/donatePartners: https://arkofgrace.org/ministry-partners

Your daily news in under three minutes. At Al Jazeera Podcasts, we want to hear from you, our listeners. So, please head to https://www.aljazeera.com/survey and tell us your thoughts about this show and other Al Jazeera podcasts. It only takes a few minutes! Connect with us: @AJEPodcasts on X, Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube

Cast: Robbie as Chaddious Vorkeek Thorn as Shade and Teddy Ravyn as Dis Forrest as Ugleo Keys as Quinari Pagemaster Penny as Harrye Illideen as The Story Weaver ______ Some content, ideas, items, etc. are based on or directly used, with permission, from the following content creators: @betterspellcaster @adramastesGM @logan art L.A.W./ @Legion.Artwork LootTavern Plots & Pens ______ For all things "TDIO": Follow us at visit our Linktree Can't get enough of our content? Get exclusive content like access to our discord server, early access to our episode with Behind the Scenes content, NPC of the week, and more by joining our Patreon. Did we miss something? Have a story to tell or want us to hit a specific topic? Let us know in the comments or email us at ThisDungeonisoccupiedpodcast@gmail.com Sound effects and intro music partially made with Epidemic Sound https://share.epidemicsound.com/m6bcn6 Like the music? That's thanks to Cameron Stahl, The Hobby Hub and Saturn Imagining production. Check them out here! The Hobby Hub https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCIXvQmMZA1UJIig_FjjVpvg

Two quarterfinal spots are up for grabs tonight in the west... can the Lakers punch their ticket?… and can anyone cool off the 23–1 Thunder? We get you set for tonights Knockout Cup games. The latest on Victor Wembanyama's status for tonight and what impact it could have on San Antonio getting to Vegas. The Knicks are rolling. What this Knicks run says about Brunson and Hart. could their trip to Vegas be the start of something bigger in New York? in the college ranks, was last night AJ Dybantsa's "I'm here" moment? Jay Bilas was there to witness it, and he's about to tell us what he saw that could rewrite the draft conversation. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Two quarterfinal spots are up for grabs tonight in the west... can the Lakers punch their ticket?… and can anyone cool off the 23–1 Thunder? We get you set for tonights Knockout Cup games. The latest on Victor Wembanyama's status for tonight and what impact it could have on San Antonio getting to Vegas. The Knicks are rolling. What this Knicks run says about Brunson and Hart. could their trip to Vegas be the start of something bigger in New York? in the college ranks, was last night AJ Dybantsa's "I'm here" moment? Jay Bilas was there to witness it, and he's about to tell us what he saw that could rewrite the draft conversation. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

JIMMY KIMMEL takes a long horn of a mysterious white substance up his nose. JIMMY KIMMEL You're right. That is good cocaine. Like really good. —only the best! JIMMY KIMMEL I'm going to bed now What?! JIMMY KIMMEL I've got to go to sleep. Are you serious?! JIMMY KIMMEL Very serious. You know. Mucho tired. Now excuse me. I don't understand. JIMMY KIMMEL passes out face down on the couch. {Enter The Multiverse} Lil bitz The jonas borthers made a christmas movie and at first I wasn't sure why, But then I thought about it harder, I was like “jonas brothers… Christmas…?” Oh, i get it– Like, “Ho, Ho, Ho!” …cause there's three of them. L. JONES DUM-DUM! YA LOOK RATCHET. BLŪ Omg why r u 18 feet tall. L. JONES YA LOOK CRUSTY. BLŪ I am crusty. L. JONES YA LOOK LOST. BLŨ. I am lost! L. JONES WHY I AINT GET MY WISH YET? HUH?! I'm not being Blū Tha Gürū right now. I'm just— [almost hit by a bus] L. JONES you simple bitch. BLŨ —blū. L. JONES What the hell that supposed to mean? BLŪ You came all the way to the lower realms just to be that tall. —Nah! Look, this is difficult. Can we just MERGE? BLŪ Nah uh— I already merged with— L. JONES Uhh-huh! —enough of you! Enough of you —“alumni” Enough of you already! Just. {Enter The Multiverse} Alright. We merged. Now where we at? I don't even know. Simple bitch. Molly with the suede suit, Black shirt Tan boots, Truth, King, Speak words— Design: leave earth Three times, I need Meanwhile, Three hursts, Three tries, The bullet doesn't miss twice, He hurts. Please, rehearse Get back in the beer bandit Here, bandit! (Hound dog) Heavy job, son— Him and all birds, All God, That's a strong heart— Let it blow out. Candle dust? Here and there. Set the box? Theatre office. Want a crumb? Want a whole number on a warred bat? This dimension's all that; This dimension's all that and then some! Clear to the agenda and a brick wall— I'll probably cut my head off I'll probably cut my head off— Before I cut my hair off; Lead ball? Medicine. Ten tall messages and massive planted evidence. Ten all autographs and all the fumbled balls caught; Penned down hens and reprimanded feeble horseradish, Course, cough, hold it back a second if you're strong, though— Sure, cross your heart inside of Molly in the bottle, I put the message down the river just a bit, But just a bit— But just a second, for the kids; The syndicate is dead, infact. I'm stuck inside your head, in fact— The President misread, in fact, The fractal our eyes mattered, Tip a hat to Mr. Random, On appealed ball fields, Diplomat and moral conduct, Struck before the clock forgot construct itself, Around and about, For here and for now, our— Missing hatred for negating, nothing said I And bitter here bats, and slaughtered hear hearts, For the never late the daughters eyes, For turning over Lilly leaves and parceled tongues, And tisk for tat, there were upon the Ace, her hands And slain in ink for our might. Therefore, to say, he hated her, Bearing him none and down the arm would flow the anchor, gallantly— Whispering cheery cherry blossoms in the hour I, For their time stands to nothing, Stands to none at all but thought forgotten Here for are, I And bare to one the number, Won the fight and mastered in the mortar, All the ashes flames and flit and flicker, tith the half, I, And fully weighed the anchor this and hither bate of fount, aye. And thou art my God; To stand and know and wither here under yet; brings us though nothing but thousand years longer, And nothing this time has yet passed us in all knowing, not keeping but feeling not seeking the band her; This waits you and I forage keep the heaping wate and grip that have I for your fortune, meadow tatter art, And ye, Ye shall not find me. Now I go. What?! She said she's leaving. IKNOWTHAT, L E G E N D S Red is the ram, Goes hard on the court; Ramshakle! Ramshakle! Full on the course; Coarse is the red jackal, Red suit and tie; Red is the sea, If you're willing to die, And I'd part it for neither and none, So come one and come all To the unknown dungeon, Of full feathered flowers. This thing is just festering— I've got to pop it. Not yet. I told you, there in his pocket— An advocate of the well known not-God, Sure was Chaos the done and the forest, Dark shadow! Dark shadow, Willing and honored. Forgiving and honest, brotherhoods— But who art thou? Keeping your tied and your triads as morals; Sacred for neither and loyal to none are, And art in her folds, so as one, We become our. Hours and ions and // Glitches// And circuit, Missed calls and mystics// [Intercepted] Hollow and all words And all worlds have gathered Beyond all our knowledge The all known has shattered. So sits beyond her graces in said forest as before none, And her altered battered ties to one beyond but not the rope cut, This twisting and the tide came, All as Scarlett, bronze, and crimson— Kill her, sire, sure—would you? Do her the honor; Untie the monster, And relish her pleasure, Please, sir, would you?? Shook her, wrought and gaping, Incrept, slaughtered and martyred— Bonded but not undone, As I bow before I. —bleeding waves. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW

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Mike Mulligan and David Haugh were joined by Tom Silverstein of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel to preview the Bears-Packers game Sunday at Lambeau Field. He also shared how bothered Packers head coach Matt LaFleur was by Bears head coach Ben Johnson's verbal jab at him in the offseason.

Clement Manyathela speaks to Advocate Myron Dewrance, the Vice-Chairperson of the Johannesburg Society of Advocates about the court application launched against Former National Director of Public Prosecutions, Menzi Simelane to be struck from the roll following his shortlisting for the NDPP position.Clement Manyathela speaks to Advocate Myron Dewrance, the Vice-Chairperson of the Johannesburg Society of Advocates about the court application launched against Former National Director of Public Prosecutions, Menzi Simelane to be struck from the roll Menzi Simelane's following his shortlisting for the NDPP position. The Clement Manyathela Show is broadcast on 702, a Johannesburg based talk radio station, weekdays from 09:00 to 12:00 (SA Time). Clement Manyathela starts his show each weekday on 702 at 9 am taking your calls and voice notes on his Open Line. In the second hour of his show, he unpacks, explains, and makes sense of the news of the day. Clement has several features in his third hour from 11 am that provide you with information to help and guide you through your daily life. As your morning friend, he tackles the serious as well as the light-hearted, on your behalf. Thank you for listening to a podcast from The Clement Manyathela Show. Listen live on Primedia+ weekdays from 09:00 and 12:00 (SA Time) to The Clement Manyathela Show broadcast on 702 https://buff.ly/gk3y0Kj For more from the show go to https://buff.ly/XijPLtJ or find all the catch-up podcasts here https://buff.ly/p0gWuPE Subscribe to the 702 Daily and Weekly Newsletters https://buff.ly/v5mfetc Follow us on social media: 702 on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/TalkRadio702 702 on TikTok https://www.tiktok.com/@talkradio702 702 on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/talkradio702/ 702 on X: https://x.com/Radio702 702 on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@radio702 See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

You can't talk about Nolan Ryan without talking about the moments he flirted with Baseball Immortality. In a career that lasted 27 seasons, he threw a record seven no-hitters, three more than the number two on the list, Sandy Koufax. He also threw twelve one-hitters, sharing that record with Bob Feller.Today, we turn back the clock to 1970, as Nolan Ryan returns to Major League Baseball after a stint in the National Guard. The “Miracle Mets” of 1969 have a World Series under their belt, and their young fire-throwing rookie is on the bump, facing the wily legend of Jim Bunning, to bring that momentum into the seventies.You never know when your name is going to be written into the history books; you never know why, you just play the game as best you can. Will this be a memorable day for Nolan Ryan? For Jim Bunning? Or the Phillies' opening batter, Denny Doyle?Bob Murphy, Ralph Kiner, and Lindsey Nelson are on Mets Radio to take you through the game. And if you want a bit of broadcast trivia, Ralph Kiner's future broadcast partner Tim McCarver is in the Phillies line-up.You can find the boxscore here https://www.baseball-reference.com/boxes/NYN/NYN197004180.shtmlThis game was played on April 18, 1970.

AP correspondent Haya Panjwani reports on fires aboard Turkish tanker ships.

The punishment of Ananias and Sapphira from the book of Acts seems severe. They were struck dead by God for a seemingly trivial offense. Seems like a harsh punishment. But this story teaches us a very important lesson about God. To support this ministry financially, visit: https://www.oneplace.com/donate/81/29?v=20251111

Day 1,369.Today, after a historic weekend, as US and Ukrainian delegations met in Geneva to discuss the US-Russian peace proposals, we assess Europe's response as it scrambles to form a collective position, before asking just how severe the ramifications would be if, as President Trump has threatened, he cuts of military and intelligence support to Kyiv. Then we hear the latest updates on the frontline, and give up an update on the other major story of the moment: the corruption scandal threatening the stability of President Zelensky's government.ContributorsFrancis Dearnley (Executive Editor for Audio). @FrancisDearnley on X.Dominic Nicholls (Associate Editor of Defence). @DomNicholls on X.With thanks to Jakub Parusinski (KI Insights). @j_parus on X.SIGN UP TO THE ‘UKRAINE: THE LATEST' WEEKLY NEWSLETTER:http://telegraph.co.uk/ukrainenewsletter Each week, Dom Nicholls and Francis Dearnley answer your questions, provide recommended reading, and give exclusive analysis and behind-the-scenes insights – plus maps of the frontlines and diagrams of weapons to complement our daily reporting. It's free for everyone, including non-subscribers.CONTENT REFERENCED:Telegraph's Ukraine Live Blog for Today:https://www.telegraph.co.uk/world-news/2025/11/24/ukraine-russia-war-trump-putin-geneva-latest-news514/ How Putin's money man hoodwinked Trump's top diplomats (The Telegraph):https://www.telegraph.co.uk/world-news/2025/11/23/how-putins-money-man-hoodwinked-trumps-top-diplomats/ Europe agrees to invite Putin back into G8 (The Telegraph):https://www.telegraph.co.uk/world-news/2025/11/23/leaked-europe-rival-peace-plan-ukraine-full-russia-war/ Trump: Ukraine peace plan isn't my final offer (The Telegraph):https://www.telegraph.co.uk/world-news/2025/11/22/ukraine-russia-trump-war-latest-news/ US ‘making changes' to peace plan after crisis talks (The Telegraph):https://www.telegraph.co.uk/world-news/2025/11/23/ukraine-russia-war-latest-news-power-plant-moscow-geneva/ Subscribe: telegraph.co.uk/ukrainethelatestEmail: ukrainepod@telegraph.co.uk Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Today on the radio show. 1 - Smoko Chat. TOOL review. 5 - More reasons why the English language is poked. 8 - Allan Moffat. 12 - Daily dump. https://bit.ly/4iihfct & https://bit.ly/4pnj6PG 16 - Mindbenders. 19 - Hair splinters. 23 - Introduce yourself with what almost killed you. 27 - Come have a ciggie with me. 30 - The cat who stole a bag of meth. 32 - MIndbenders - The sounds of space. 34 - Late mail. Struck by lightning. 38 - Last drinks.

Sun, Nov 23 12:40 AM → 1:20 AM 1 Struck on Metro near EFC Radio Systems: - Arlington VA Trunked System

Don't you see, sensei I'm just as disappointed in myself And ready to die Just as I relay the message, Spray me with your morbid essence Don't, croak, you fool, You've only a spoon ful of sugar left to go The dose is coming up your throat, — you didn't know to throw up Grab the rope and go up Before gravity has crushed your —thought: Stupid boy, you don't want to die— Nor to do, but oh, do we have it coming Silly mortal, overlords and governed, Short of morals, steady coming at your doorstep So goes our concert! And so goes our concept for divorce, And sure of course, Your four corse meal, and/or dessert This is just devastating, genetics made me The sort at sorting words, but surfing, Sure. Ever temporarily the cadence changes, Still they say “you've been betrayed” But never had a friend I made made As good as death and God have been to me For everything you're meant to be, Plus everything you're meant to me, I go, unwanted, troubled and disgusted at my own immortal outcome. Sure. My back hurts and I'm wounded, Heartbroke, Thrust in every cardinal direction Also, honored at the mark of magic wand Upon her shoulder; And so, Just as soon as the sun and moon, Does the fire escape set a perfect path For outward destruction of the bricks and mortar Or your alter (This we talk about, to some effect Is your repression and affective form of supernatural perfection) But forget the makeup; I can make you up to be a star And not of wars and other worlds, But those that come before us, Carson, and the others Paar before that. But, I think not dear sir How wrong you are, A wretched bird, Set not to fly, but O father Wit and relay messages, The passage said, and set to clocks, The past was won and so the future altered, But dear feathered father, Mortal you are not But just another triumph Of my god; And set the mirror to the magnets Camera, lights and action, Magic— All the signs of the dawn, and the mad don Red Dawn came upon us, called the Red Man Tom, from other, over, under Still was my mistake to mumble such Or put upon the tongue As such assumption Still— wonder? Bird, shut up; Love I dusk And lust I soak In all the frittered dust and feathers, Colors, coming up as mister Chuck and wood, and wait and ponder Slithered this to wonder, not a rock, But potted fern, Asunder Thunderstorm And wicked rain And fair the back A tide had come And sitting there upon the shore, Was us, and 12 apostles She's a Brick— Seemingly out of nowhere, A RED BRICK HOUSE falls very perfectly from the SKY and into OZ. oh good, my house is here. House. [the festival project ™] But I don't want to make house! Then play it! I don't want to play house it is BORING. You play it— they want it. But I don't want it. Then forget it! What! Listen kid, a job's a job! {Enter The Multiverse} Wrong, this is wrong— everything is wrong. What's wrong, Rob? I'll be back. ROB LOWE has just played TRUTH OR DARE L E G E N D S if I could get inside your head For just a second Bread and butter Heaven, hell, And other places I have wandered But oh, wonder This is never what I wanted, Was it? No sir. Sure, I set you off, No sooner had you got a gun and shot me. Handsome fucker. I'll bet. Wrong act. Wrong award show. Wrong hat and a baseball bat, Peanut butter and a nice cold cheesecake, Don't forget to order cheesesteak For your cat. A carnivore at odds with the other worlds, And also fused to us; This drifting back and forth Between the Rock And Hollywood Has got to stop. ((The world is toxic.)) the legend of… L. JONES It's you! BLŪ AH, crap. L. JONES Listen, I got something for you. BLŪ Where did your bird go? L.JONES What bird? CUT TO: Now open that. No wait! It's a trap! THE VAULT inside THE CRYPT at 30 ROCK has been opened. I keep looking down at my phone As if I'm expecting a phone call Or incoming message from God But the worlds to a song Are all jumbled up in my Concious I don't want to talk about it I feel Nauseous Everyone is being obnoxious Even my own blood I don't want to function I just want some French toast crunch For lunch Nostalgia I got a whole inch taller on the peloton Holla Now I got a body, Broader, So close to Broadway But I never go there That's a tall order Of “gotta have money” I mean live theatre It's fine I'll eat here And repeat these things till they just rhyme Line them all up like a context, Story Someday I'm gonna cut my own check Watch me lol none of this rhymes without a hard Brooklyn accent ; Guess you can't hack it! Send you ass packin! I said “That's whack son!” Then I went back blonde Now they want Backend, Contract, Off the top, Royalties Residuals I'm an individual with insidious syntax And yet I'm ridiculed Truly I'm a tit-for-tat Or particle of all you are Circular centrifuge, I trickle down your tentacles (Eugh) Choke the chicken just to give the cat a chicken bowl, Chick fil et and pret a tair just to get a ritual Espresso and a quick snack So I can get my dick wrapped In chocolate and licorice because the shit is edible Damn that I guess they set a damn trap By putting out the welcome mat, Then strapping Like a mothafuckin' straight jacket Matter fact, I look a nap in it, Then magic tricked the slip effective Compliments of Michael Jackson Or was it tech nine? Maybe I should get my Mind right I lost it once I guess I've better find it If I am, in fact, A diamond in the rough It's probably blooded it up enough That you should dig it up and shine it; Better yet, Somebody outta pick it up And sign it, Cause I write enough To put a vision To a blind man It's Fran Fine, man I'm behind, man The shadowgov had put me on a diet My bad I noticed that they tried to shut me up But couldn't stop the words or other stuff That just keeps coming out of my head I put coconuts as butter onto my bread And thinking thoughts of Carl cox As I drift off in my bed, I said, “It shouldn't be a problem, officer” As I reached for the gun And he aimed it at my death. That's an impossible apocalyptic suicide— Did you invite the devil in? I said “Nah, but that guy did.” The problem is, I pointed over yonder to a ghost Who also knows that I'm a well respected psychic; Nevermind a sidekick, side bitch in a sidecar, Psych ward, Sike! We spike war on your kind! So far, If I make history tonight, The other side decides their psalm is just as likely The third reike. Okay, strike one: I'm gonna turn your lights off. Strike two : you do and say what I do: Strike three: we're gonna make you suicidal I specialize in denying rights for high profits But big brother, or boss— What if my glove fits? The instance it does, We lock you up with no service, Your world becomes dark And your words become worthless Oh shit. This is not a good rap song. Like, at all. I must say, I do agree, You lose your trust, but silently Denied is all your trouble, Till it just begins to bubble up Until the cookie crumbles— See that feeling in your stomach? This is bigger than the money, girl — They want your soul, and then the world! I told you never call him. I didn't! Then explain this: [Skrillex] *sharp inward sigh* CUT IMMIDIATLEH TO STAN You know what! That's it! I don't care how handsome or rich and famous he is! This has to stop! KYLE Hey, wait just a minute— STAN SHUT UP KYLE. KYLE You shut up! STAN You're starting to sound just like him! KYLE Take that back! STAN I won't take it back! You all might have forgotten who you are, but I haven't!after of fact, I bet to Cartman, you're still that stupid little Jew kid! KYLE That's IT. KYLE takes out his phone. what are you doing? …I'm tweeting about this. I thought it was X now… It is, but you can't ‘x' anything, it's still calledl tweeting. I guess youre right. —and I'm tagging Cartman ! STAN Are you serious? Oh shit, this is social suicide. …did I ever explain this storyline? …I don't know, did i? I'd gotten so focused on this impending doom looming over me with this whole lawsuit that I'd forgotten entire worlds and whole documents. Even more terrifying, was the sudden quiet and the onset guilt that came over me for getting distracted. But I couldn't remove myself from it entirely—- it seemed to have ruined everything. It wasn't just motorcycle noises, it was like a nervousness and angst twisting in my stomach for months and months, until finally, as the court dates started approaching, it was peaceful, or rather, normal, all of a sudden. It couldn't be peaceful because now that the extreme noise was gone, I knew it had been planted all long— but what was the purpose? I'd lost two years not knowing, and though there were albums, they were never what I wanted. Now I was sorting through the documents of the show like it was the rubble of a decimated building— completely demolished, and I hadn't the slightest clue the contexts or the storylines anymore. It was pain and suffering, but not in the legal context. It was a creative disaster— I hadn't any idea in the slightest where I'd left my audience before I was forced to abandon them. But I was forced to choose, at times, between soap and toilet paper, or eventually, food, and water— or a phone. Eventually, this too became a pattern of the impossible— trying my hardest to do what I thought had been my purpose, but for far, being so endlessly sabotaged, even ridiculed and humiliated, and still, I couldn't understand why. I was tired— and somehow, even though I'd wanted to be left alone, I was the target. Worse was that I assumed it to be bigger than I thought and completely out of control— I thought immediately back to how my best friend from middle school had been attacked, and how she was made to think that it was me…to the point that she'd become obsessive about it to call my mom over it. And as far as the court was concerned, to the wrong ears or wrong eyes, anything I'd published in the festival project could look troublesome, like the ramblings of a mad mad, or schizo, or uncontrolled obsessive thoughts— because the biggest secrets of all, the things that tied together these fictional worlds and plots, were my own real life experience. The inability in a court of law to detail the podcast, which had started as meltdown some would call grandiose over an almost long forgotten rockstar and a porn model — and the entries into the festival project that followed, which included high concepts, off-kilter comedy, politics, and even fringed on social justice. Nothing I ever would have wanted and especially over money, but the lawsuit wasn't about money at all. In fact, at any moment I would have chosen to die and have it all stop if it weren't for my very young son being left alone. Though recently the dread had overcome with a sense of unbearable loss and agony, encrypted with suicidal thoughts and wants, reeling for human touch, the overbearing factor seemed to be that if I killed myself, I was giving someone what they wanted. I was really much too tired to go on, but leaving behind the world in entirety, in my very own way of beliefs wasn't just “shitutting it off”, it was starting it over. Understandably and undeniably immortal in its nature, the instances of God I had left spoke with a reminiscence of being born again, and having to remember which is it I'd wanted to start off. It was an unachievable overload of chaos and disruption, a level of corruption that spoke to something so dark and sinister it seemed biblical — then, again, I tried to wrap my mind around a way to rebuild a positive world from hope and thought, or manifest reality, but this is the very experience I'd felt was intended all along. The motorcycles weren't merely meant to destroy my career, or my will power, or force— they were, but also they were made to play upon my most valuable asset, the power of thought, to make it impossible to become something other than what was wanted; to use my own mind against itself and destroy my way of thought by using vibrations that could not be shut out, or stopped— they followed me to the sound collective, to Shakespeare in the park, the bank, the doctors office— it was as if they knew and understood my very thoughts, my process. It was of nothing at all to corrupt every single body and brain who would surround me or come close— by using the power that seemed supernatural enough, but indeed were powered by money, and technology. Perhaps, in this essence, I thought, was the purest display of defective intention itself; the mere thought that this indeed was rather Good Vs. Evil or God and The Devil would easily be written off as a diseased way of thought. The social world and constructs had been built around being open minded to a system of psychology that was intrinsically rather corrupt. I knew this could only be fought with what I knew, and what I could draw from as logic. I didn't want to go to court because I knew the people I would be fighting were liars, and well trained psychological masters of manipulation, well hidden terrorists dressed as public servants and systematic corrupters all for simple profit margins, to whom I was not so much a person or a mother, or a daughter, but a number. Because I was poor, and had once or four times chosen to love the wrong person in an unorthodox and uncontrollable form of torture, dismissing each and every social construct or physiology that was by the book, by embracing that there was a reason for change I quickly became quite the antagonist of sorts and hopefully not some sort of martyr —for the kind of people that had money and property, and perhaps even socially constructed circles to camoflage their own self doubt and hatred, but absolutely also had no morals. –Death of a Superstar DJ If I lose my mind At least I know I'm right on time This time— I meant that, I had it bad this time MCBADBAT I had it bad this time, And the last. Perchance for you, Hour or folded, Hair my weight And glassed upon thy, This upon now, Feathered waking, And there barely weathered Shaking. Dear, dear, Tis is fair truth, To fare that I have gasp And fated at thy doorstep; And yet, care to force, Her breaking waves and saving tinder, Fit there slithered in as yet astonished, Then another; And I hated. So, then, slower now. All there, gathered none. And show to show thy force What then became and withered after, None to bark or beg But birds and feathered creatures, pander The tides did Quake, And the heart did grow ten fold and steady saying None upon us but one left to shiver in the depths That yet remain as undiscovered For now never there was another world, Undone, And also another becomes, My death— And therefore all the worlds I kept, To travel on and travel As becomes one, does another onward As the first is glass to dust, And last is born there. So, Then, I, Crept, In my dress, Kept for clothes that church did water I, met, My mark and there the doors of shadows open Wilted and wake? Hear you; A star was born In other cosmos tied with our own nurture So, Kept, The weight of clasp and bone That holds the crept and precious alter Goddamn cat! Where are you. AAtticus Caaticus Oop. Gotta go. Toonces! Tooooonces! Where are you? Omg remember that one where that couple has a magic toddler and they just let him like,float away. Yeah, barely. Yeah. So I do. CUT TO: TOONCES focuses intently on the task at hand; he's sure he can manage to drive the human vehicle to his own home— to where he's assured he will find the actual body in which he belongs. Now… let's see, if I can just Wait, I who? ATTICUS CATTICUS, An ancient alien sorcerer must relay a series of important messages. Unfortunately. YO WHAT THE FUCK. None of them seem to be getting through. CUT BACK TO: TOONCEEESSSS. here kitty kitty kitty!! {Enter the Multiverse} I would dedicate, but honestly I've not time to waste And I'm craving wedding cake I hate to destroy you But for now, you know I can't employ you; This implies my eyes are also murder And I'm sure of her departure From another world, Perhaps across the border. Also, quite the dark sorcerer himself LORNE MICHAELS has well hidden himself under the guise of having become one of the most successful television producer of all times— And even in his own very small world, Nobody quite seems to know why. JIMMY FALLON Lorne, I have to tell you something. LORNE MICHAELS This had better be good, Jimmy, I've just made popcorn. [the festival project ™] Don't worry, for now, The risk remains hidden, As sure as an asset is an advantage, I can't have the classes counting Heads of cabbage as accomplishes, The masses are honestly astonished And impossible, but what was wrong with Boredom in the first place? Nonsense More words And still no dollars Hunger strike, And burning harder, California deficit, lack of bread, Heaven sent interventions and scissors, Mistresses, disasters and divorces But who says the whole story has to suffer? You're a surfer under water, Remember that when you finally catch your breath above the surface Can you clear her? He who? Back to work! Or back to the future! My super brain is dead but I think I'm next I think heaven swallows whole the blooded laugher From the constructs I've come from. Remember that. Remember not to fall from too far up, God would give you wings With time to spare Before you ever wondered where Your mark was On the plaza Don't let me up to the very top. I will at the very least Best scenario jump off And rid the world myself, Just for a dozen donuts over Crossing hearts and Hollywood And Griffith park To also soft my foot Upon red carpets. You ever shave your armpits!? …no. Hm. Catholic. Of course. Get in. Destination. —Rotterdam. You idiot. I made it. Whatever, get in the boat. DI NERO Give her your shirt. What. Your shirt. Why my shirt. Just— Fine. Here. [he hands over his shirt— in an instant, the woman becomes an exact REPLICA.] …my shirt. Relax. Nothing's gonna happen to it. Okay? —in fact, you're still wearing it. Alright! She's right, Jimmy, relax. I can't, that's— It's simple. There is nothing simple about this whatsoever. You're right. It's not, so get over it. [The Festival Project ™] BILL MURRAY There's a compartment at the end of the left corridor— Alright. In that hatch, there's a chamber. Okay, what'll I do? You'll open it? How? I'll tell you how, just get there. Suddenly, a barrier falls; it appears as though there are booby traps set here. Uh— that might be a problem. There might be a few of them. What just happened? Booby traps. —ah, I know what you're talking. Those aren't booby traps— they're Bobby Traps. What in the Hell are you talking about? For whatever reason Jimmy Kimmel Is important Now I'm scared of him, I know he knows the devil Come to think of it, Might even be an advocate Have an avocado But don't know the half of it These are, as it stands Comes what may Special circumstances I could circumvent an intervention, Never second chances I've been setting rat traps, Trapeze artists, Bampheramph camp, And also trampolines over the plaza That seems dangerous. Yeah. AHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Damn. Know it's plausible, That I also am an alcoholic, Though dysfunctional, Professional, And underrepresented So I stand myself, Let's just say pro-se if you will I could add Prozac to my snacks But I'll be delayed, if you still Don't get my messages I'm sick of having heart attacks; A hard advantage I was looking back on “fully packaged” A six pack of abs And nothing left to eat but cabbage, Haven't had a mouth, But I've been counting on my ass To get me back up north, I'm coming from the South Out West, there's a word for that At best, you're a four and a half My body double stunts and stumbles Struts at nothing Struck before the one, And so between high noon and Somewhere around 30 in I'm never turning 30, 30 Rock is in the wind— So count that up, That's what my income is. That's what they said? “Too late, you've been betrayed” If that's how it is, Then I request “beheaded” You know your mother says That ugly face just becomes permanent If you keep making it, And so I did, The second that it ended I'm Trying so hard Just to be What they want That it hurts Just to stop And relax For a moment INT. THE LAIR. NIGHT What is this? Where am I? You're— Alive. Why? …I changed my mind. You're not ugly You're just not mine I changed my mind I changed my life around. I skip line after line, But the message ain't right, I have time a chance No challenge accepted No exceptions or Expectations Expand this racism vocabulary Set the rat traps back To February Stamp the weather's getting Better with the postage clearing Abstr– My cat is so cute I can't stand him; But he's pretty bad, That my only friend; Animal. I blacklisted deadmau5, And my whole set sucked. Presently, however I'm a peasant Plucking pheasant feathers Guess I– pppftt. Like it never even happened But I'm sure we're all to war, Like a fear I never grasp it, What's l before, uncertain of your l words— My dear, were tattered and the masters heavy handed, Oh, my dear, we're marching on a battered Wit, to all your fan mail I tel you, I was I tortured, Let me show you And also, No one forced my hand at magic, Questioned prestidigitation, Or went back to every second, Land you think you owned as time In fact, my crucial very hard earned gossip column Asks the reader to reform his or her thought Before a judgement can be made How fascinating. The bag says ‘poems' so I wrote one, But I'm sure since my marker's toggled on I'm being stalked, It's like a magnet, Punch the clock And here they pour into the coffin So I won't be pouring coffee for the puffin; Maybe someday I'll look back at this as all I ever wanted, But for now it's just a horror show, Where I belong the murder— Yet a thriller, Best, The audience is captivated, Yes This is evasive, Cause I can't been captured yet By either masses or Mass murderers. At last, a cadence comes clean of its Breaking waves and rhythms, Tides and ties, Becomes another— Then, I'm whisked away Not back to slumber, but of subtle thoughts Of Californian water Lapping up across our surfboards; I often wear them tides, The undertow As pull of greater waves I sit aside as all that passes [The Festival Project ™] When I see Calvin Klein, I think of you; Not what you used to be But turned in to So it's mutual— Pay attention, fool As does moss grow on a rock And this to you— It is unfortunate, my dear You miss with every twist, Adjustment of attention span, The glances I foreshadowed (Here you are, inside your past) It's just affective of the effect, You've been levitating, Yes, I find it devastating Every second kept is just a fortune But you pause before you post— You reap before you even think Of what you sow, You don't belong, Agast, (True) Set the tone, Classless, But I'm Art, you are a Daunting folk song, Mistletoe and marker. CAMERA ASSISTANT Marker. …what is this for again? CAMERA ASSISTANT (Annoyed, mumbling) Shut up. Ten minutes passes and still, I'm awake But the tragedy of the mistake has just set in, I'm sure I've been tortured, I'm paid in mistakes, but I'd rather be shattered with Mortimer's curse. To the tune of Ten by ten by ten I will never be lover, nor friend in the end. {Enter The Multiverse] DRAKE concentrates heavily on a very long , seemingly very angry message— a frowning face plastered as he writes that is so noteworthy, it catches the attention of many a passerby— still this focus unwatered, as he bashes heavily away at the text message with the thumbs of fury for over 30 minutes while sitting at a booth in a well-loved pancake restaurant. As a tall stack of pancakes is served before him, and he, still unbreaking this angry texting streak or eye contact with his phone sits before them, history is made in what internet culture has now deemed as “the most meme worthy face in history” The world wonders what he could possibly be writing— and more importantly—-who he could be texting. Tears come to his eyes but do not fall as he raises his thumb with reserve, to finally press [RETURN.] CUT TO: SUNNI BLU receives a text amidst a wild party. Almost without so much as a reaction, SUNNI BLU pings the message to a projector and cuts off the lights, and music. A VERY LONG, ANGRY TEXT is projected on the wall. I slept from 10-2 There was nothing else to do My name is Devin DeLouise And I am not supposed to know these things Seven are dead and three are left I know what's next I'm also often known as And referred to as coyote ugly; Suffering a tantra wall, Yo, you son of a bitch! You dirty, dirty son of a bitch. I must admit, I had a lot to do with this… I had no part in it! Relax… soon enough, the both of your realize— this is how the unimaginable gets written. [he loads the polished sterling silver pistol and glamours over it] You have our memory. —all memory. And as soon as it ends, before it can begin again. The slate is wiped clean. Good riddance. “A Different Kind of Monologue” Is this what you wanted? Ooh— you should try me! I wish you would try me! Try me! I wish you would. Be calm, Grand Master. This will all be over momentarily. What's going on. Deprivation chamber. Crypt? —Encrypted? A lockup. Ah. Thought so. That ought to show us what he's really made up. We can all hope. [he pounds on the glass, the one way mirror acts as a camera which the maj aresses, rabid and wi the anger of a dangerous animal, both we, n audience, and the small group of men gathered a the other side of the room. This could be the basis of a lot of lawsuits. So now I have your tears and agony A wilted throne and wand Which which would grant a wish of comedy, And therefore ever after, Not pain and guilt, but laughter So heavy is the hat that acts as crown, And so foolish is the King to think ‘imself as not one, Creaks the crow and also of the feathered guilt that follows, I Kept and bashful, wishing not the show as throne but sorrow, Kept to wick and wake and bones to shatter from tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Do you fear us? …do you wish to be feared? What of us? I seek to cause the wish that stands as though you may as granted. So shallow, fair child. And brother and my son also. Gross! Stop. You are weird! Dude, you are fucked. In the withdraw, my shadows and darkness Are there always, never resting Stories and gathered images, Visions of betrayal and archaic wants. In time, I've abandoned them all and betraying that which I've lost, For I know, and not ponder on That I shall never know love, As all standing tal over me Have eyes; And all I want Knows not what hides under my ugly. Alright. I followed your spiral, downward, and down wind and down wood, Into a place where I also aspired to show your mark Upon my rotted corpse or coarse crossifix; Sure worded and down trodden. Now, worse, I'm also sworn To mourn all my own losses, Kind folk. Kind hearted and now my eyes also sudden to wander— And there goes my miles and triumphs And morals and war songs, And sure, swallowed the barrel of a gun But also departed with honor, I tell I. Glimpses of wither and winter and whittling pain, And I slither my back to the center of All I am, in this, and shadows, Fairtails, And grains of rice and sand to twist away Into the rain as I lay dying. What a fortunate! Don't make my mark up and out, few for short times, Aye, conspire to warthog, Remember so force your spirit onto ours, And shake, sandbox! There aiming at you were the snakes of six liars, And the stakes of empires lost and won over, Also one solemn subtle Star of David Worn upon the neck of six monks, Ragtime Six popes, pass I; Six fathers and streaks solemn and Care tan teared salamander, Having weight and wake to cheer For our slaughter. Then, you, Having gained and also lost should reap to sow, What you'd have wanted; Though the tongue so convexed having way to guild your complex, Shaking as I hunger fruit that not but hangs Before l wanted I know, I could knot be consoled I know, I could not be consoled I know I could not be consolidated either Bought, or purchased I know I'm not consoled at all, I know I'm not confirmed at all I know, I know I'm not confronted, nor immortal — but your glorified affliction. Poor infinity. Of poverty, perhaps, but never poor at all. For your were warned of all the doors as opened at your calling. Not to walk though, But to ponder at them, wondering. he's gone Maybe I should go Too Heavy weight hanging on my Shoulders I'm just star struck I don't know You I don't really like saying What I go through Talk an hour, Fake it All day show Monologue Improvisation Now i'm on a roll, But my thoughts got darker I like adderall and a real smooth talker I like a husband-father , Doctor, Actor, Tall and handsome, Doesn't matter I'm alone, so i feel hopeless Aggie's gone, So i might as well go though Oh– She's gone ((I think i'm past my time)) I think i should go to She's gone (so long) Right on, man I might as well go to It's been a long time, Gotta turn my light off, Overtime, That's a long ball game Season's over; On my back in the middle of the ball court She's gone, So i might as well go too. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space.

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11-21-25 - Holmberg Is Finding That Being His Own Booking Agent Is Hard - Hard Reality Of Car Repair Has Struck John Again As He Thought He Had A Win In Replacing His Wipers - John Makes A Generalization About Car Guys And Nails ItSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Thu, Nov 20 6:59 AM → 8:08 AM MVC w injuries in Blacksburg tonight. Vehicle struck pole caught fire possible explosion per one caller. Blacksburg Rescue calls Lifeguard - the local air ambulance service - to take the patient to a Level I trauma center. Patient had a severe laceration to the face patient was unconscious. Blacksburg Police Blacksburg Rescue and Blacksburg Fire investigate. Radio Systems: - New River Valley Emergency Communications

Bully Ray reacts to everything from the first night of NXT: Gold Rush including Jacy Jayne winning the NXT Women's Championship and Oba Femi's huge promo against Ricky Saints. To visit our partners at Chewy, click here. The Master's Class is now available on its own podcast feed! SUBSCRIBE NOW to hear over 50 episodes of Dave, Bully, Mark, and Tommy taking you behind the scenes like only they can, plus BRAND NEW episodes every week. Subscribe to SiriusXM Podcasts+ to listen to new episodes of Busted Open ad-free and get exclusive access to bonus episodes. Start a free trial now on Apple Podcasts or by visiting siriusxm.com/podcastsplus. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Spite Houses: The architectural equivalent of a middle finger. They're structures or dwellings designed specifically to piss someone off. This week, Norm does a deep dive into a truly ridiculous spite house, built and owned by an eccentric millionaire named Joseph Richardson. It all started when a man made an offer on Joseph's 5-foot wide, 102-foot deep tract of land in New York City. Joseph was so offended by the man's (completely reasonable) offer, that he built an odd, skinny structure right next to the man's beautiful apartment building. And the wildest part of it all? Joseph Richardson lived in his spite house for fifteen years. Remember, kids, history hoes always cite their sources! For this episode, Norm pulled from: Alpern, Andrew. Holdouts!: The Buildings That Got in the Way. McGraw-Hill, 1984. Documentary History of American Water-Works. “Biography of Joseph Richardson.” http://www.waterworkshistory.us/bio/Richardson/index.htm. Find a Grave. “Joseph C. Richardson (1814-1897).” https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/58229813/joseph_c-richardson. Miller, Tom. “The Lost 1882 ‘Spite House' -- No. 1218 Lexington Avenue.” Daytonian in Manhattan, August 27, 2012. https://daytoninmanhattan.blogspot.com/2012/08/the-lost-1882-spite-house-no-1215.html. New York Architecture. “New York Architecture Images - Spite House.” February 1, 2012. https://web.archive.org/web/20120201111125/http://www.nyc-architecture.com/GON/GON005.htm. New York Daily Herald. “Corporate Elections.” April 8, 1873. New York Daily Herald. “Marriages and Deaths.” July 14, 1872. New York Daily Herald. “The City Railroad Bills.” February 12, 1873. New York Herald. “Financial and Commercial.” March 12, 1874. New York Herald. “Railroads in Utah.” January 27, 1875. New York Herald. “‘Uncle Ben' Richardson Dead.” February 22, 1889. New York Times. “Calls Them Embezzlers.” March 20, 1895. New York Times. “Joseph Richardson Dead.” June 9, 1897. New York Times. “Joseph Richardson Dying.” April 16, 1897. New York Times. “Meeting of the Directors of the Union Pacific Railroad.” March 7, 1873. New York Times. “Mr Richardson's Faculty.” June 14, 1897. New York Times. “Mr. Richardson's Funeral.” June 12, 1897. New York Times. “Richardson Will Contest.” November 18, 1897. New York Times. “Richardson's Money Gone.” December 23, 1897. New York Times. “Spite House Case Dismissed.” November 1, 1900. New York Times. “Stormy Railroad Meeting.” October 19, 1877. New York Times. “Struck in the Tunnel.” August 21, 1888. New York Tribune. “Evicted, Goes to Country.” August 21, 1910. New York Tribune. “Rapid Transit Schemes.” September 22, 1875. The Universe of Discourse. “The Spite House.” https://blog.plover.com/tech/spite-house.html. The World. “Strange Heirs of Joseph Richardson.” June 13, 1897. Utah Rails.Net. “The History of Utah's Railroads, 1869-1883.” https://utahrails.net/reeder/reeder-chap6.php. Valentine's Manual of Old New York. The Chauncey Holt Company, 1921. Are you enjoying An Old Timey Podcast? Then please leave us a 5-star rating and review wherever you listen to podcasts! Are you *really* enjoying An Old Timey Podcast? Well, calm down, history ho! You can get more of us on Patreon at patreon.com/oldtimeypodcast. At the $5 level, you'll get a monthly bonus episode (with video!), access to our 90's style chat room, plus the entire back catalog of bonus episodes from Kristin's previous podcast, Let's Go To Court.

The New Jersey Devils lose to the Tampa Bay Lightning 5-1.By Sam Woo and Scottyhttps://pucksandpitchforks.comhttps://www.LetsGoDevils.comRATE, REVIEW, AND SUBSCRIBE: Apple Podcasts - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/lets-go-devils-podcast/id1371371669 #NJDevils #NHL #LetsGoDevils #LGD #Devils #NewJersey #NCAA #AHLBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/let-s-go-devils-podcast--2862943/support.

Congrats Jessica and Meghan -- A wonderful weekend wedding was had! A viral Thanksgiving gravy extinguisher that Colleen needs to buy, Thanksgiving Oreos are on the way and cranberry's role at the table, and a YouTube/Disney deal has been struck -- rejoice!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Today on Valentine in the Morning: This morning our elevators were all shut down here at the iHeart Studios, so we had to climb up 5 flights of stairs to get our day started... We hated it! So we asked our listeners: What’s a minor inconvenience you deal with? Also, since it’s been a rainy weekend, so we wanted to ask you: What’s your craziest storm story? Struck by lightning? Did you float down the street of your neighborhood? Let us know! Listen live every weekday from 5–10am Pacific: https://www.iheart.com/live/1043-myfm-173/ Website: 1043myfm.com/valentine Instagram: @ValentineInTheMorning Facebook: facebook.com/valentineinthemorning TikTok: @ValentineInTheMorningSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

A prominent Democrat is criticized those in his party who voted in the Senate to end the government shutdown.

This is the 4pm All-Local update on Thursday, Nov. 6, 2025.

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-opperman-report--1198501/support.

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Joe and Alex talk about Halloween and break down another Major Moment of Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince, The Lightning Struck Tower! Open Giveaway Major Moments - The Lightning Struck Tower Bossengamot Potterwatch Community Emails Joe - @CustomVinylLush Alex - @AtariAlex Brent - @BrentAllenLive Show - @TalesFromGH TikTok- @TFGHshow Email - TalesFromGodricsHollow@gmail.com Facebook - www.facebook.com/talesfromgodricshollow Instagram - www.instagram.com/talesfromgodricshollow Podchaser - www.podchaser.com/TFGH Special Shout Out to our Producers/Sponsors AND Headmistresses, The Mysteriously Haunted Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy and our Headmistress of Ilvermorny, Kori A! Thank you to ALL of the Patreon supporters!!! We can't do all of this without you all! Support us on PATREON! www.Patreon.com/TalesFromGodricsHollow Spellio Revelio and E-Mail sounds/beds came from https://musicradiocreative.com/

It's Halloween soon. Marnie got her hands on Broden's Cowdoy costume. This will mean a lot to some and nothing at all to others. Figure out where you stand here. The Roos are in a record-breaking mood, the Carlton and GWS and Gold Coast and Collingwood players had to flee from lightning, and the name of Coffs Harbour's stadium is quite capable of derailing this podcast.

Jase recounts a travel gauntlet worthy of its own sitcom, including an in-air collision with his favorite waterfowl, before walking into a rough crowd where his jokes flop. But a heartfelt tribute to Missy leaves her beaming and Al and Zach taking notes for their own playbooks. The surprise arrival of Jase's son Reed turns the conversation serious as the guys continue through John 18, contrasting Christ's unshakable kingdom with the seductive traits of the antichrist and the deceivers who twist truth for power. In this episode: Exodus 33; John 18, verses 28–40; 1 Corinthians 10, verse 4; Daniel 2, verses 34–35, 44–45; Ephesians 2; Mark 1, verse 15; Matthew 6, verse 13 (doxology note); John 17; 1 John 2; 1 John 4; 2 John, verse 7 “Unashamed” Episode 1196 is sponsored by: Stand firm for values that matter. Join the fight & give today at https://www.frc.org/unashamed https://tomorrowclubs.org/unashamed — For a limited time, all donations to this “Binga Blitz” will be matched! Join us now and double your impact! https://myphdweightloss.com — Find out how Al is finally losing weight! Schedule your one-on-one consultation today by visiting the website or calling 864-644-1900 https://andrewandtodd.com or call 888-888-1172 — These guys are the real deal. Get trusted mortgage guidance and expertise from someone who shares your values! https://duckstamp.com/unashamed — Get your all-new digital duck stamp today. It's easier than ever! http://unashamedforhillsdale.com/ — Sign up now for free, and join the Unashamed hosts every Friday for Unashamed Academy Powered by Hillsdale College Check out At Home with Phil Robertson, nearly 800 episodes of Phil's unfiltered wisdom, humor, and biblical truth, available for free for the first time! Get it on Apple, Spotify, Amazon, and anywhere you listen to podcasts! https://open.spotify.com/show/3LY8eJ4ZBZHmsImGoDNK2l Listen to Not Yet Now with Zach Dasher on Apple, Spotify, iHeart, or anywhere you get podcasts. Chapters: 00:00-03:49 What annoys Jase about Zach 03:50-14:51 Jase scores an “I was right” over Missy14:52-22:35 If the cornerstone isn't right, nothing will be 22:36-26:45 What makes the anti-Christ?26:46-32:00 How to make your wife beam happily 32:01-39:40 Rome finds Jesus innocent39:41-47:57 Modern signs that Jesus conquered Rome 47:58-56:22 Jesus mic drops on Pilate — Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The U.S. military's targeting of fishermen in the Caribbean under the pretense of anti-drug operations only exemplifies a disregard for human life and international law. The No Kings rallies sheds light on the limitations of contemporary protest movements. Israel launched over 100 air strikes on Gaza during a ceasefire period, killing dozens and hitting civilian infrastructure, including homes and displacement tents. All that and much more in today's episode! My comedy news show Unredacted Tonight airs every Thursday at 7pm ET/ 4pm PT. My livestreams are on Mon and Fri at 3pm ET/ Noon PT and Wednesday at 8pm ET/ 5pm PT. I am one of the most censored comedians in America. Thanks for the support!

In our news wrap Tuesday, President Trump announced U.S. forces struck another boat off Venezuela that he says was a drug vessel, Trump hosted Argentina's president at the White House, the man who set fire to the Pennsylvania governor's mansion in April pleaded guilty to attempted murder and a massive Pacific storm is battering the west from California to the Rockies. PBS News is supported by - https://www.pbs.org/newshour/about/funders. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy

President Trump seems to have struck a ceasefire deal with Gaza and Israel.  Visit the Howie Carr Radio Network website to access columns, podcasts, and other exclusive content.