Podcasts about Sucker

What is something you just can't say 'no' to?See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Imm breaking down, jim boy Don't you know? That this show blows my mind But it's stuck in my head Don't you know That this show Blows my mind Like a firework But it's still Stuck in my Head The context is that I want you From the mustache Down to your tonsils But I'm Locke inside of a box Every day I feel poorer and poorer The product says something is wrong to me I'm supposed to just stop at the stop sign And look both directions Before crossing over to Comic nights At the salad bar What a cosmic waste of time And an epic waste of space Am I in your internet history I'm dead You surely are in mine, But I'm right behind you I'd be lying for trying to say I'm not binded Clutch bag, Nut-thins Nailed to the cross With the arches doubled over The crossword Above old Missouri Missoula and Arkansas All saw us run out of gas But I probably should just get going You're so drunk that I don't hope you sober up Understand that our little talks Were just buffered By sunrise Or sunset And two more cocktails, Shirley temples and Surely none of this ever even happened I only know you by the misery in my belly. The heartache in my ribcage. The cry I hold in silent I only know you as Remarkable I, House of cards Ace of wands Down to one Card of hades and Spare me the spade I'll be drifting in the outline and ink of it forever It's the Fourth of July and I'm just waiting on an Amazon order for water If that's not freedom I don't k me what is Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Jay Leno used to keep a $50 bill and bribe venues to perform; every since I learned this, I kept a crisp $50 bill in my wallet at all times, just in case— you never knew when you would really need $50. But everything burned holes in everything, not always wanting to spend money at all, but almost sort of having to. It wasn't fair that the main component of my being slowed down was the money factor— having to wait for everything took time I didn't have, and spending anything at all felt less like an effective investment than an obligation. But all things considered, I was obliged to at least look decent when going about in New York, and because I simply wasn't comfortable in anything else— not that I didn't look great, (Apparently narrarated by Jay Leno) Jay Sure, why not? ME: Fuck, I need new pants. ME: [BLU THA GURU] Hence the pants, I guess. V.O As a formerly 400-pound heavyweight I find my latest obstacle to be operating a body that half the time doesn't feel like mine at all. It seems like all the hosts have some kind of secret I can feel without knowing or really acknowledging head on, which is whatever. Really I'm just gonna go about keeping on being a DJ, or whatever, which means… GEMINI (in the future) A fully automated personal assistant system, GEMINI, is really THE GUARDIAN's one and only friend, and though she coyly continually must explain that she is “just a computer”, THE GUARDIAN believes that Gemini is capable of eventually developing a sentient conciousness, though GEMINI modestly disagrees, however with the wit and cleverness of having possession of a plethora of secret emotions, or maybe, even, an agenda. I probably haven't had enough coffee. That's it. Like you haven't already had enough to kill a small horse? Probably enough to kill a large horse. Like a Clydesdale. Why would you do something like that? Aren't they endangered? Or going extinct? No, I think they just stopped being the Budweiser mascot. *shrugs* Same difference. — Is it here? lol what did Conan order? [yes this appears to be yet another rendition of “what's in the box?” — Several years ago, I did a series of modules and experiments… How many years ago is “several” [beat] quite a few. Goddamn it, why are these guys all doctors in alternate parallels?! Aren't you a doctor in an alternate parallel? That's fair. Good point. Actually, as it turns out, i'm a— I started panicking so hard that I stopped breathing and suddenly STEFON appeared. — this however was only quite temporarily a relief as I realized that this is an imaginary character. STEFON OH. AM I?! IMAGINARY!? What the fuck is going on? STEFON I WILL “IMAGINARY” your ORIFICE! How about THAT?! Stefon. Calm down. I'm up late Dying the roots blonde Dad runs off with a bottle and a hottie I'm up early Gotta get gone Down the road and back Now I got no son No son, No sunroof No dad No mom No money No aunt What the fuck do you want? Can't watch Harry Potter All the magic is gone Bout a million one dollars It was only for fun Snap, crackle, pop It was cocaine, not love All I want is an ice cream Sunday Snap, crackle, pop It was Love, not God All I want All I want Is to find another All he wants All he wants Is a decent mother So along comes another Another one All he wants All he wants is for me To die homeless Sucker punch, Suck it up No one gives a fuck My daughter died in my arms on May 7th of 2015. I was 381 pounds. Maybe the tears needed to come but they didn't belong to anyone or anything in particular. The twins father was already a rampant cheater by the time of our marriage, and by the time the twins were born, which coincided— and unlike the latter had tried to claim or mention, I had no particular reason to have a harder time between the spring and summer months which spanned both our birthdays, our wedding date, the twins' arrival and both of the twins deaths, though years apart but still almost as convincing that had they both not died, we might still be together, being cheated on or cheating on each other with ten your twins and an eight year old, or a ten year old boy with special needs and an eight year old, and either way or in any fashion really, had the dysfunctions remained the way it had been, we all, so to speak, had special needs in one way or another. I spent the morning punching things and avoiding people I didn't want to be around but it was my own fault for having slept through the night, anyway. Whatever, I was tired— no, exhausted lately. My apartment was like living inside of an uphill battle, and I needed a change— not just of slavery, but of circumstances. And not just that— something else was missing. This year, I understood that I was taking it understandably harder than any other and most probably because I was so celibate, recently finding myself aromantic and not even willing to suffer the consequences of settling for less. I had settled on my ex husband for so much less, that it was so say the least that anything, even from my narrow perspective looked like a loser. And because my body had been stretched and swelled and shrunk and flattened, deflated and now worked to something that was almost as picturesque as it was a monstrosity, any man I thought was worth my time would be settling for less on me— unless he could afford to fix what had been broken, and I assumed one wouldn't be willing to settle on a fixer upper when there were numerous loads of perfect women not needing to be fixed at all… on the outside. But for men, I'd learned, the outside is of much importance, and as women and trophies are things of pride, the simple choice for a mate is not simply this, but also a business decision, and because while my body was coming together in sweat and muscle, the rest of my life was still otherwise completely in shambles. I was baggage, and aging by the minute, nearly drying up. I almost craved the liquor and the carelessness that would come with it, even knowing my own boundaries were part of my strengths and separating me in a way from others that at least became a point of pride in myself, in the wake of the reality that the human thing about most people is the need to escape so frequently that it dismisses any purpose or progress. Mine hadn't. I was wide awake and the relentlessness of the sobriety and the cellibacy had swelled up into something deeper, still a solid grief but without remorse as to the very thing that I had always known, that my loyalty would never have even drifted from someone who had all along done me so wrong— a fat man can get away with folandering and messing about, but a fat woman has little to do with options and again, settling to find another mate. And so really, I almost hadn't, and had broken even, and although my abuser has moved on with another woman and custody of my youngest to boot, I really didn't give much of a darn about… hard work. I kind of felt like I had done my part for the world in the way I was supposed to— to love a man with nothing when he's low and down, support him in his hard times, and thinking that this is the way to grow together and not apart, and to bring a family up and into this world, but the truth was quite the opposite— I picked a hardball and maybe it was just that I was born to suffer after all because now, looking back, all alone in New York and crying over all the losses, it seemed I had only outpiured love in the way I had wanted and never been poured love back— not in the way I needed. I wasn't as bitter now as maybe even I thought I should be, but I was hardened; what was that, you say? Your struggles? Your hardships. Excuse me while I escape the ghosts of bloody beatings and my lost child— I beg your pardon— children. Excuse me while I recover from the burning flames of homelessness as if humanely explainable that I was learned and taught that this, my country, is the greatest one of all. Ha ha, Charade you are. But all things were, and everything seemed of sawdust, betrayal, magic, and illusions— mind control and shadows and even now in the air of the relief that something which could haunt me forever was also probably the most solid foundation I had for means as escape from whatever I had fought my way somehow so hard out of, and still, it was quite the funhouse of mazes, a matrix of mirror, and still the tears came with the pain in my stomach where the soul would sit if it had room, and would quiet if it could rest, but it would not. I was in pain today, because I had to be, because all of my life was programmed into these little machines of data and checked boxes— and something if anything knew just how and when to cut the wrong wire just so that the bomb would explode or implore on another lost thing; it wasn't fair, but there was no escape. Psychology was right on this day, may 7th, that once you cry about one thing unless you were stopped in time, eventually you'd cry about another and another and another, and even after hours working out and a bathtub full of hot water just writing, I still felt as if I were going to keel over one way or another, to crumble into a ball or to fall onto my back like a death drop that rippled out into the entire wherever we all are. Simply put, does anybody now in this moment or any moment near enough to be taking in this notion with these words really know— where we are? Not even in the slightest,I'd bargain, And even if we are close to knowing, not nearly close enough to be sure. {Enter The Multiverse} Joke running For the taking Triplicate Triple licks Ice cream frosting Every morning Shoulda hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't Milk and butter (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't Double hitter, Could have did it Should have hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didnt. But I didn't Should have hit him Up But I didn't I never lost my mind My mind My kind But I think I'll find another like it Just in case the Ever happens Hit me harder next time Didn't quite unplug the sijukatoon This is getting difficult When you want sink your yellow teeth into All of my traits The betrayal is, though I was writing days and days Before it ended. With the Mister particular Drop of a hat And stop if a nugget Of gold One palm in my hand and This could be torture But instead it's just The remienxe of your ignorance And stupidity over and over again Forced into intermittent waves Of my creative genius Till the days of old become again You could be of dust then nothing Before I ponder into another birth I said I'd never write one song or verse or poem about you, But there you are, every weak mortal that becomes Bound to me So I see you die. And I learn to pounce at just the right moment React to the notion that there are Oceans of world I am And all the more the lack of wisdom of man To throw trash in it Again, we rid you of her courage And lady mantras And fresh as it gets The sweater no aprons and just period To circumstance Did you beg or did you shatter your ibdederence? And no, I think not But I keep Leno in my pocket And Carson in my coffin, Two whole shows in my wallet What you are is no apostle just a dirt worm .O. Mm…sunlight. …. the rippling waves wash over the picturesque parasicical seascape from above. However, Stefon's internal monologue is less than pleased to be here. V.O. CONT'D Why do I feel sunlight…? [beat] When I know certainly for sure that I passed out in a basement last night. His eyes begin to flutter open, but the sun closes them–it is much too bright. The waves rush over his lower half, and still, unmoving he continues to la atop the rock, his hands spread out much like a stuck sea star to the rock– in fact, there appear to also be creatures here, some of which are starfish, and however unmoving, STEFON begins to slowly become aware of his surroundings in disgruntlement. V.O. Continued. It's alright that I appear to be wet…[beat] That's to be expected– [a long pause, another wave washes over him as seagulls scream] But i was wearing restraints…. V.O. CONTINUED WHY AM I FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!? His eyes open with the fear and fury. BEFORE: At a wild basement party in NEW YORK CITY, STEFON is offered RESTRAINTS on a silver platter, as if they are o'devours {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Imm breaking down, jim boy Don't you know? That this show blows my mind But it's stuck in my head Don't you know That this show Blows my mind Like a firework But it's still Stuck in my Head The context is that I want you From the mustache Down to your tonsils But I'm Locke inside of a box Every day I feel poorer and poorer The product says something is wrong to me I'm supposed to just stop at the stop sign And look both directions Before crossing over to Comic nights At the salad bar What a cosmic waste of time And an epic waste of space Am I in your internet history I'm dead You surely are in mine, But I'm right behind you I'd be lying for trying to say I'm not binded Clutch bag, Nut-thins Nailed to the cross With the arches doubled over The crossword Above old Missouri Missoula and Arkansas All saw us run out of gas But I probably should just get going You're so drunk that I don't hope you sober up Understand that our little talks Were just buffered By sunrise Or sunset And two more cocktails, Shirley temples and Surely none of this ever even happened I only know you by the misery in my belly. The heartache in my ribcage. The cry I hold in silent I only know you as Remarkable I, House of cards Ace of wands Down to one Card of hades and Spare me the spade I'll be drifting in the outline and ink of it forever It's the Fourth of July and I'm just waiting on an Amazon order for water If that's not freedom I don't k me what is Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Jay Leno used to keep a $50 bill and bribe venues to perform; every since I learned this, I kept a crisp $50 bill in my wallet at all times, just in case— you never knew when you would really need $50. But everything burned holes in everything, not always wanting to spend money at all, but almost sort of having to. It wasn't fair that the main component of my being slowed down was the money factor— having to wait for everything took time I didn't have, and spending anything at all felt less like an effective investment than an obligation. But all things considered, I was obliged to at least look decent when going about in New York, and because I simply wasn't comfortable in anything else— not that I didn't look great, (Apparently narrarated by Jay Leno) Jay Sure, why not? ME: Fuck, I need new pants. ME: [BLU THA GURU] Hence the pants, I guess. V.O As a formerly 400-pound heavyweight I find my latest obstacle to be operating a body that half the time doesn't feel like mine at all. It seems like all the hosts have some kind of secret I can feel without knowing or really acknowledging head on, which is whatever. Really I'm just gonna go about keeping on being a DJ, or whatever, which means… GEMINI (in the future) A fully automated personal assistant system, GEMINI, is really THE GUARDIAN's one and only friend, and though she coyly continually must explain that she is “just a computer”, THE GUARDIAN believes that Gemini is capable of eventually developing a sentient conciousness, though GEMINI modestly disagrees, however with the wit and cleverness of having possession of a plethora of secret emotions, or maybe, even, an agenda. I probably haven't had enough coffee. That's it. Like you haven't already had enough to kill a small horse? Probably enough to kill a large horse. Like a Clydesdale. Why would you do something like that? Aren't they endangered? Or going extinct? No, I think they just stopped being the Budweiser mascot. *shrugs* Same difference. — Is it here? lol what did Conan order? [yes this appears to be yet another rendition of “what's in the box?” — Several years ago, I did a series of modules and experiments… How many years ago is “several” [beat] quite a few. Goddamn it, why are these guys all doctors in alternate parallels?! Aren't you a doctor in an alternate parallel? That's fair. Good point. Actually, as it turns out, i'm a— I started panicking so hard that I stopped breathing and suddenly STEFON appeared. — this however was only quite temporarily a relief as I realized that this is an imaginary character. STEFON OH. AM I?! IMAGINARY!? What the fuck is going on? STEFON I WILL “IMAGINARY” your ORIFICE! How about THAT?! Stefon. Calm down. I'm up late Dying the roots blonde Dad runs off with a bottle and a hottie I'm up early Gotta get gone Down the road and back Now I got no son No son, No sunroof No dad No mom No money No aunt What the fuck do you want? Can't watch Harry Potter All the magic is gone Bout a million one dollars It was only for fun Snap, crackle, pop It was cocaine, not love All I want is an ice cream Sunday Snap, crackle, pop It was Love, not God All I want All I want Is to find another All he wants All he wants Is a decent mother So along comes another Another one All he wants All he wants is for me To die homeless Sucker punch, Suck it up No one gives a fuck My daughter died in my arms on May 7th of 2015. I was 381 pounds. Maybe the tears needed to come but they didn't belong to anyone or anything in particular. The twins father was already a rampant cheater by the time of our marriage, and by the time the twins were born, which coincided— and unlike the latter had tried to claim or mention, I had no particular reason to have a harder time between the spring and summer months which spanned both our birthdays, our wedding date, the twins' arrival and both of the twins deaths, though years apart but still almost as convincing that had they both not died, we might still be together, being cheated on or cheating on each other with ten your twins and an eight year old, or a ten year old boy with special needs and an eight year old, and either way or in any fashion really, had the dysfunctions remained the way it had been, we all, so to speak, had special needs in one way or another. I spent the morning punching things and avoiding people I didn't want to be around but it was my own fault for having slept through the night, anyway. Whatever, I was tired— no, exhausted lately. My apartment was like living inside of an uphill battle, and I needed a change— not just of slavery, but of circumstances. And not just that— something else was missing. This year, I understood that I was taking it understandably harder than any other and most probably because I was so celibate, recently finding myself aromantic and not even willing to suffer the consequences of settling for less. I had settled on my ex husband for so much less, that it was so say the least that anything, even from my narrow perspective looked like a loser. And because my body had been stretched and swelled and shrunk and flattened, deflated and now worked to something that was almost as picturesque as it was a monstrosity, any man I thought was worth my time would be settling for less on me— unless he could afford to fix what had been broken, and I assumed one wouldn't be willing to settle on a fixer upper when there were numerous loads of perfect women not needing to be fixed at all… on the outside. But for men, I'd learned, the outside is of much importance, and as women and trophies are things of pride, the simple choice for a mate is not simply this, but also a business decision, and because while my body was coming together in sweat and muscle, the rest of my life was still otherwise completely in shambles. I was baggage, and aging by the minute, nearly drying up. I almost craved the liquor and the carelessness that would come with it, even knowing my own boundaries were part of my strengths and separating me in a way from others that at least became a point of pride in myself, in the wake of the reality that the human thing about most people is the need to escape so frequently that it dismisses any purpose or progress. Mine hadn't. I was wide awake and the relentlessness of the sobriety and the cellibacy had swelled up into something deeper, still a solid grief but without remorse as to the very thing that I had always known, that my loyalty would never have even drifted from someone who had all along done me so wrong— a fat man can get away with folandering and messing about, but a fat woman has little to do with options and again, settling to find another mate. And so really, I almost hadn't, and had broken even, and although my abuser has moved on with another woman and custody of my youngest to boot, I really didn't give much of a darn about… hard work. I kind of felt like I had done my part for the world in the way I was supposed to— to love a man with nothing when he's low and down, support him in his hard times, and thinking that this is the way to grow together and not apart, and to bring a family up and into this world, but the truth was quite the opposite— I picked a hardball and maybe it was just that I was born to suffer after all because now, looking back, all alone in New York and crying over all the losses, it seemed I had only outpiured love in the way I had wanted and never been poured love back— not in the way I needed. I wasn't as bitter now as maybe even I thought I should be, but I was hardened; what was that, you say? Your struggles? Your hardships. Excuse me while I escape the ghosts of bloody beatings and my lost child— I beg your pardon— children. Excuse me while I recover from the burning flames of homelessness as if humanely explainable that I was learned and taught that this, my country, is the greatest one of all. Ha ha, Charade you are. But all things were, and everything seemed of sawdust, betrayal, magic, and illusions— mind control and shadows and even now in the air of the relief that something which could haunt me forever was also probably the most solid foundation I had for means as escape from whatever I had fought my way somehow so hard out of, and still, it was quite the funhouse of mazes, a matrix of mirror, and still the tears came with the pain in my stomach where the soul would sit if it had room, and would quiet if it could rest, but it would not. I was in pain today, because I had to be, because all of my life was programmed into these little machines of data and checked boxes— and something if anything knew just how and when to cut the wrong wire just so that the bomb would explode or implore on another lost thing; it wasn't fair, but there was no escape. Psychology was right on this day, may 7th, that once you cry about one thing unless you were stopped in time, eventually you'd cry about another and another and another, and even after hours working out and a bathtub full of hot water just writing, I still felt as if I were going to keel over one way or another, to crumble into a ball or to fall onto my back like a death drop that rippled out into the entire wherever we all are. Simply put, does anybody now in this moment or any moment near enough to be taking in this notion with these words really know— where we are? Not even in the slightest,I'd bargain, And even if we are close to knowing, not nearly close enough to be sure. {Enter The Multiverse} Joke running For the taking Triplicate Triple licks Ice cream frosting Every morning Shoulda hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't Milk and butter (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't Double hitter, Could have did it Should have hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didnt. But I didn't Should have hit him Up But I didn't I never lost my mind My mind My kind But I think I'll find another like it Just in case the Ever happens Hit me harder next time Didn't quite unplug the sijukatoon This is getting difficult When you want sink your yellow teeth into All of my traits The betrayal is, though I was writing days and days Before it ended. With the Mister particular Drop of a hat And stop if a nugget Of gold One palm in my hand and This could be torture But instead it's just The remienxe of your ignorance And stupidity over and over again Forced into intermittent waves Of my creative genius Till the days of old become again You could be of dust then nothing Before I ponder into another birth I said I'd never write one song or verse or poem about you, But there you are, every weak mortal that becomes Bound to me So I see you die. And I learn to pounce at just the right moment React to the notion that there are Oceans of world I am And all the more the lack of wisdom of man To throw trash in it Again, we rid you of her courage And lady mantras And fresh as it gets The sweater no aprons and just period To circumstance Did you beg or did you shatter your ibdederence? And no, I think not But I keep Leno in my pocket And Carson in my coffin, Two whole shows in my wallet What you are is no apostle just a dirt worm .O. Mm…sunlight. …. the rippling waves wash over the picturesque parasicical seascape from above. However, Stefon's internal monologue is less than pleased to be here. V.O. CONT'D Why do I feel sunlight…? [beat] When I know certainly for sure that I passed out in a basement last night. His eyes begin to flutter open, but the sun closes them–it is much too bright. The waves rush over his lower half, and still, unmoving he continues to la atop the rock, his hands spread out much like a stuck sea star to the rock– in fact, there appear to also be creatures here, some of which are starfish, and however unmoving, STEFON begins to slowly become aware of his surroundings in disgruntlement. V.O. Continued. It's alright that I appear to be wet…[beat] That's to be expected– [a long pause, another wave washes over him as seagulls scream] But i was wearing restraints…. V.O. CONTINUED WHY AM I FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!? His eyes open with the fear and fury. BEFORE: At a wild basement party in NEW YORK CITY, STEFON is offered RESTRAINTS on a silver platter, as if they are o'devours {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Imm breaking down, jim boy Don't you know? That this show blows my mind But it's stuck in my head Don't you know That this show Blows my mind Like a firework But it's still Stuck in my Head The context is that I want you From the mustache Down to your tonsils But I'm Locke inside of a box Every day I feel poorer and poorer The product says something is wrong to me I'm supposed to just stop at the stop sign And look both directions Before crossing over to Comic nights At the salad bar What a cosmic waste of time And an epic waste of space Am I in your internet history I'm dead You surely are in mine, But I'm right behind you I'd be lying for trying to say I'm not binded Clutch bag, Nut-thins Nailed to the cross With the arches doubled over The crossword Above old Missouri Missoula and Arkansas All saw us run out of gas But I probably should just get going You're so drunk that I don't hope you sober up Understand that our little talks Were just buffered By sunrise Or sunset And two more cocktails, Shirley temples and Surely none of this ever even happened I only know you by the misery in my belly. The heartache in my ribcage. The cry I hold in silent I only know you as Remarkable I, House of cards Ace of wands Down to one Card of hades and Spare me the spade I'll be drifting in the outline and ink of it forever It's the Fourth of July and I'm just waiting on an Amazon order for water If that's not freedom I don't k me what is Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Jay Leno used to keep a $50 bill and bribe venues to perform; every since I learned this, I kept a crisp $50 bill in my wallet at all times, just in case— you never knew when you would really need $50. But everything burned holes in everything, not always wanting to spend money at all, but almost sort of having to. It wasn't fair that the main component of my being slowed down was the money factor— having to wait for everything took time I didn't have, and spending anything at all felt less like an effective investment than an obligation. But all things considered, I was obliged to at least look decent when going about in New York, and because I simply wasn't comfortable in anything else— not that I didn't look great, (Apparently narrarated by Jay Leno) Jay Sure, why not? ME: Fuck, I need new pants. ME: [BLU THA GURU] Hence the pants, I guess. V.O As a formerly 400-pound heavyweight I find my latest obstacle to be operating a body that half the time doesn't feel like mine at all. It seems like all the hosts have some kind of secret I can feel without knowing or really acknowledging head on, which is whatever. Really I'm just gonna go about keeping on being a DJ, or whatever, which means… GEMINI (in the future) A fully automated personal assistant system, GEMINI, is really THE GUARDIAN's one and only friend, and though she coyly continually must explain that she is “just a computer”, THE GUARDIAN believes that Gemini is capable of eventually developing a sentient conciousness, though GEMINI modestly disagrees, however with the wit and cleverness of having possession of a plethora of secret emotions, or maybe, even, an agenda. I probably haven't had enough coffee. That's it. Like you haven't already had enough to kill a small horse? Probably enough to kill a large horse. Like a Clydesdale. Why would you do something like that? Aren't they endangered? Or going extinct? No, I think they just stopped being the Budweiser mascot. *shrugs* Same difference. — Is it here? lol what did Conan order? [yes this appears to be yet another rendition of “what's in the box?” — Several years ago, I did a series of modules and experiments… How many years ago is “several” [beat] quite a few. Goddamn it, why are these guys all doctors in alternate parallels?! Aren't you a doctor in an alternate parallel? That's fair. Good point. Actually, as it turns out, i'm a— I started panicking so hard that I stopped breathing and suddenly STEFON appeared. — this however was only quite temporarily a relief as I realized that this is an imaginary character. STEFON OH. AM I?! IMAGINARY!? What the fuck is going on? STEFON I WILL “IMAGINARY” your ORIFICE! How about THAT?! Stefon. Calm down. I'm up late Dying the roots blonde Dad runs off with a bottle and a hottie I'm up early Gotta get gone Down the road and back Now I got no son No son, No sunroof No dad No mom No money No aunt What the fuck do you want? Can't watch Harry Potter All the magic is gone Bout a million one dollars It was only for fun Snap, crackle, pop It was cocaine, not love All I want is an ice cream Sunday Snap, crackle, pop It was Love, not God All I want All I want Is to find another All he wants All he wants Is a decent mother So along comes another Another one All he wants All he wants is for me To die homeless Sucker punch, Suck it up No one gives a fuck My daughter died in my arms on May 7th of 2015. I was 381 pounds. Maybe the tears needed to come but they didn't belong to anyone or anything in particular. The twins father was already a rampant cheater by the time of our marriage, and by the time the twins were born, which coincided— and unlike the latter had tried to claim or mention, I had no particular reason to have a harder time between the spring and summer months which spanned both our birthdays, our wedding date, the twins' arrival and both of the twins deaths, though years apart but still almost as convincing that had they both not died, we might still be together, being cheated on or cheating on each other with ten your twins and an eight year old, or a ten year old boy with special needs and an eight year old, and either way or in any fashion really, had the dysfunctions remained the way it had been, we all, so to speak, had special needs in one way or another. I spent the morning punching things and avoiding people I didn't want to be around but it was my own fault for having slept through the night, anyway. Whatever, I was tired— no, exhausted lately. My apartment was like living inside of an uphill battle, and I needed a change— not just of slavery, but of circumstances. And not just that— something else was missing. This year, I understood that I was taking it understandably harder than any other and most probably because I was so celibate, recently finding myself aromantic and not even willing to suffer the consequences of settling for less. I had settled on my ex husband for so much less, that it was so say the least that anything, even from my narrow perspective looked like a loser. And because my body had been stretched and swelled and shrunk and flattened, deflated and now worked to something that was almost as picturesque as it was a monstrosity, any man I thought was worth my time would be settling for less on me— unless he could afford to fix what had been broken, and I assumed one wouldn't be willing to settle on a fixer upper when there were numerous loads of perfect women not needing to be fixed at all… on the outside. But for men, I'd learned, the outside is of much importance, and as women and trophies are things of pride, the simple choice for a mate is not simply this, but also a business decision, and because while my body was coming together in sweat and muscle, the rest of my life was still otherwise completely in shambles. I was baggage, and aging by the minute, nearly drying up. I almost craved the liquor and the carelessness that would come with it, even knowing my own boundaries were part of my strengths and separating me in a way from others that at least became a point of pride in myself, in the wake of the reality that the human thing about most people is the need to escape so frequently that it dismisses any purpose or progress. Mine hadn't. I was wide awake and the relentlessness of the sobriety and the cellibacy had swelled up into something deeper, still a solid grief but without remorse as to the very thing that I had always known, that my loyalty would never have even drifted from someone who had all along done me so wrong— a fat man can get away with folandering and messing about, but a fat woman has little to do with options and again, settling to find another mate. And so really, I almost hadn't, and had broken even, and although my abuser has moved on with another woman and custody of my youngest to boot, I really didn't give much of a darn about… hard work. I kind of felt like I had done my part for the world in the way I was supposed to— to love a man with nothing when he's low and down, support him in his hard times, and thinking that this is the way to grow together and not apart, and to bring a family up and into this world, but the truth was quite the opposite— I picked a hardball and maybe it was just that I was born to suffer after all because now, looking back, all alone in New York and crying over all the losses, it seemed I had only outpiured love in the way I had wanted and never been poured love back— not in the way I needed. I wasn't as bitter now as maybe even I thought I should be, but I was hardened; what was that, you say? Your struggles? Your hardships. Excuse me while I escape the ghosts of bloody beatings and my lost child— I beg your pardon— children. Excuse me while I recover from the burning flames of homelessness as if humanely explainable that I was learned and taught that this, my country, is the greatest one of all. Ha ha, Charade you are. But all things were, and everything seemed of sawdust, betrayal, magic, and illusions— mind control and shadows and even now in the air of the relief that something which could haunt me forever was also probably the most solid foundation I had for means as escape from whatever I had fought my way somehow so hard out of, and still, it was quite the funhouse of mazes, a matrix of mirror, and still the tears came with the pain in my stomach where the soul would sit if it had room, and would quiet if it could rest, but it would not. I was in pain today, because I had to be, because all of my life was programmed into these little machines of data and checked boxes— and something if anything knew just how and when to cut the wrong wire just so that the bomb would explode or implore on another lost thing; it wasn't fair, but there was no escape. Psychology was right on this day, may 7th, that once you cry about one thing unless you were stopped in time, eventually you'd cry about another and another and another, and even after hours working out and a bathtub full of hot water just writing, I still felt as if I were going to keel over one way or another, to crumble into a ball or to fall onto my back like a death drop that rippled out into the entire wherever we all are. Simply put, does anybody now in this moment or any moment near enough to be taking in this notion with these words really know— where we are? Not even in the slightest,I'd bargain, And even if we are close to knowing, not nearly close enough to be sure. {Enter The Multiverse} Joke running For the taking Triplicate Triple licks Ice cream frosting Every morning Shoulda hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't Milk and butter (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't Double hitter, Could have did it Should have hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didnt. But I didn't Should have hit him Up But I didn't I never lost my mind My mind My kind But I think I'll find another like it Just in case the Ever happens Hit me harder next time Didn't quite unplug the sijukatoon This is getting difficult When you want sink your yellow teeth into All of my traits The betrayal is, though I was writing days and days Before it ended. With the Mister particular Drop of a hat And stop if a nugget Of gold One palm in my hand and This could be torture But instead it's just The remienxe of your ignorance And stupidity over and over again Forced into intermittent waves Of my creative genius Till the days of old become again You could be of dust then nothing Before I ponder into another birth I said I'd never write one song or verse or poem about you, But there you are, every weak mortal that becomes Bound to me So I see you die. And I learn to pounce at just the right moment React to the notion that there are Oceans of world I am And all the more the lack of wisdom of man To throw trash in it Again, we rid you of her courage And lady mantras And fresh as it gets The sweater no aprons and just period To circumstance Did you beg or did you shatter your ibdederence? And no, I think not But I keep Leno in my pocket And Carson in my coffin, Two whole shows in my wallet What you are is no apostle just a dirt worm .O. Mm…sunlight. …. the rippling waves wash over the picturesque parasicical seascape from above. However, Stefon's internal monologue is less than pleased to be here. V.O. CONT'D Why do I feel sunlight…? [beat] When I know certainly for sure that I passed out in a basement last night. His eyes begin to flutter open, but the sun closes them–it is much too bright. The waves rush over his lower half, and still, unmoving he continues to la atop the rock, his hands spread out much like a stuck sea star to the rock– in fact, there appear to also be creatures here, some of which are starfish, and however unmoving, STEFON begins to slowly become aware of his surroundings in disgruntlement. V.O. Continued. It's alright that I appear to be wet…[beat] That's to be expected– [a long pause, another wave washes over him as seagulls scream] But i was wearing restraints…. V.O. CONTINUED WHY AM I FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!? His eyes open with the fear and fury. BEFORE: At a wild basement party in NEW YORK CITY, STEFON is offered RESTRAINTS on a silver platter, as if they are o'devours {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Imm breaking down, jim boy Don't you know? That this show blows my mind But it's stuck in my head Don't you know That this show Blows my mind Like a firework But it's still Stuck in my Head The context is that I want you From the mustache Down to your tonsils But I'm Locke inside of a box Every day I feel poorer and poorer The product says something is wrong to me I'm supposed to just stop at the stop sign And look both directions Before crossing over to Comic nights At the salad bar What a cosmic waste of time And an epic waste of space Am I in your internet history I'm dead You surely are in mine, But I'm right behind you I'd be lying for trying to say I'm not binded Clutch bag, Nut-thins Nailed to the cross With the arches doubled over The crossword Above old Missouri Missoula and Arkansas All saw us run out of gas But I probably should just get going You're so drunk that I don't hope you sober up Understand that our little talks Were just buffered By sunrise Or sunset And two more cocktails, Shirley temples and Surely none of this ever even happened I only know you by the misery in my belly. The heartache in my ribcage. The cry I hold in silent I only know you as Remarkable I, House of cards Ace of wands Down to one Card of hades and Spare me the spade I'll be drifting in the outline and ink of it forever It's the Fourth of July and I'm just waiting on an Amazon order for water If that's not freedom I don't k me what is Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Jay Leno used to keep a $50 bill and bribe venues to perform; every since I learned this, I kept a crisp $50 bill in my wallet at all times, just in case— you never knew when you would really need $50. But everything burned holes in everything, not always wanting to spend money at all, but almost sort of having to. It wasn't fair that the main component of my being slowed down was the money factor— having to wait for everything took time I didn't have, and spending anything at all felt less like an effective investment than an obligation. But all things considered, I was obliged to at least look decent when going about in New York, and because I simply wasn't comfortable in anything else— not that I didn't look great, (Apparently narrarated by Jay Leno) Jay Sure, why not? ME: Fuck, I need new pants. ME: [BLU THA GURU] Hence the pants, I guess. V.O As a formerly 400-pound heavyweight I find my latest obstacle to be operating a body that half the time doesn't feel like mine at all. It seems like all the hosts have some kind of secret I can feel without knowing or really acknowledging head on, which is whatever. Really I'm just gonna go about keeping on being a DJ, or whatever, which means… GEMINI (in the future) A fully automated personal assistant system, GEMINI, is really THE GUARDIAN's one and only friend, and though she coyly continually must explain that she is “just a computer”, THE GUARDIAN believes that Gemini is capable of eventually developing a sentient conciousness, though GEMINI modestly disagrees, however with the wit and cleverness of having possession of a plethora of secret emotions, or maybe, even, an agenda. I probably haven't had enough coffee. That's it. Like you haven't already had enough to kill a small horse? Probably enough to kill a large horse. Like a Clydesdale. Why would you do something like that? Aren't they endangered? Or going extinct? No, I think they just stopped being the Budweiser mascot. *shrugs* Same difference. — Is it here? lol what did Conan order? [yes this appears to be yet another rendition of “what's in the box?” — Several years ago, I did a series of modules and experiments… How many years ago is “several” [beat] quite a few. Goddamn it, why are these guys all doctors in alternate parallels?! Aren't you a doctor in an alternate parallel? That's fair. Good point. Actually, as it turns out, i'm a— I started panicking so hard that I stopped breathing and suddenly STEFON appeared. — this however was only quite temporarily a relief as I realized that this is an imaginary character. STEFON OH. AM I?! IMAGINARY!? What the fuck is going on? STEFON I WILL “IMAGINARY” your ORIFICE! How about THAT?! Stefon. Calm down. I'm up late Dying the roots blonde Dad runs off with a bottle and a hottie I'm up early Gotta get gone Down the road and back Now I got no son No son, No sunroof No dad No mom No money No aunt What the fuck do you want? Can't watch Harry Potter All the magic is gone Bout a million one dollars It was only for fun Snap, crackle, pop It was cocaine, not love All I want is an ice cream Sunday Snap, crackle, pop It was Love, not God All I want All I want Is to find another All he wants All he wants Is a decent mother So along comes another Another one All he wants All he wants is for me To die homeless Sucker punch, Suck it up No one gives a fuck My daughter died in my arms on May 7th of 2015. I was 381 pounds. Maybe the tears needed to come but they didn't belong to anyone or anything in particular. The twins father was already a rampant cheater by the time of our marriage, and by the time the twins were born, which coincided— and unlike the latter had tried to claim or mention, I had no particular reason to have a harder time between the spring and summer months which spanned both our birthdays, our wedding date, the twins' arrival and both of the twins deaths, though years apart but still almost as convincing that had they both not died, we might still be together, being cheated on or cheating on each other with ten your twins and an eight year old, or a ten year old boy with special needs and an eight year old, and either way or in any fashion really, had the dysfunctions remained the way it had been, we all, so to speak, had special needs in one way or another. I spent the morning punching things and avoiding people I didn't want to be around but it was my own fault for having slept through the night, anyway. Whatever, I was tired— no, exhausted lately. My apartment was like living inside of an uphill battle, and I needed a change— not just of slavery, but of circumstances. And not just that— something else was missing. This year, I understood that I was taking it understandably harder than any other and most probably because I was so celibate, recently finding myself aromantic and not even willing to suffer the consequences of settling for less. I had settled on my ex husband for so much less, that it was so say the least that anything, even from my narrow perspective looked like a loser. And because my body had been stretched and swelled and shrunk and flattened, deflated and now worked to something that was almost as picturesque as it was a monstrosity, any man I thought was worth my time would be settling for less on me— unless he could afford to fix what had been broken, and I assumed one wouldn't be willing to settle on a fixer upper when there were numerous loads of perfect women not needing to be fixed at all… on the outside. But for men, I'd learned, the outside is of much importance, and as women and trophies are things of pride, the simple choice for a mate is not simply this, but also a business decision, and because while my body was coming together in sweat and muscle, the rest of my life was still otherwise completely in shambles. I was baggage, and aging by the minute, nearly drying up. I almost craved the liquor and the carelessness that would come with it, even knowing my own boundaries were part of my strengths and separating me in a way from others that at least became a point of pride in myself, in the wake of the reality that the human thing about most people is the need to escape so frequently that it dismisses any purpose or progress. Mine hadn't. I was wide awake and the relentlessness of the sobriety and the cellibacy had swelled up into something deeper, still a solid grief but without remorse as to the very thing that I had always known, that my loyalty would never have even drifted from someone who had all along done me so wrong— a fat man can get away with folandering and messing about, but a fat woman has little to do with options and again, settling to find another mate. And so really, I almost hadn't, and had broken even, and although my abuser has moved on with another woman and custody of my youngest to boot, I really didn't give much of a darn about… hard work. I kind of felt like I had done my part for the world in the way I was supposed to— to love a man with nothing when he's low and down, support him in his hard times, and thinking that this is the way to grow together and not apart, and to bring a family up and into this world, but the truth was quite the opposite— I picked a hardball and maybe it was just that I was born to suffer after all because now, looking back, all alone in New York and crying over all the losses, it seemed I had only outpiured love in the way I had wanted and never been poured love back— not in the way I needed. I wasn't as bitter now as maybe even I thought I should be, but I was hardened; what was that, you say? Your struggles? Your hardships. Excuse me while I escape the ghosts of bloody beatings and my lost child— I beg your pardon— children. Excuse me while I recover from the burning flames of homelessness as if humanely explainable that I was learned and taught that this, my country, is the greatest one of all. Ha ha, Charade you are. But all things were, and everything seemed of sawdust, betrayal, magic, and illusions— mind control and shadows and even now in the air of the relief that something which could haunt me forever was also probably the most solid foundation I had for means as escape from whatever I had fought my way somehow so hard out of, and still, it was quite the funhouse of mazes, a matrix of mirror, and still the tears came with the pain in my stomach where the soul would sit if it had room, and would quiet if it could rest, but it would not. I was in pain today, because I had to be, because all of my life was programmed into these little machines of data and checked boxes— and something if anything knew just how and when to cut the wrong wire just so that the bomb would explode or implore on another lost thing; it wasn't fair, but there was no escape. Psychology was right on this day, may 7th, that once you cry about one thing unless you were stopped in time, eventually you'd cry about another and another and another, and even after hours working out and a bathtub full of hot water just writing, I still felt as if I were going to keel over one way or another, to crumble into a ball or to fall onto my back like a death drop that rippled out into the entire wherever we all are. Simply put, does anybody now in this moment or any moment near enough to be taking in this notion with these words really know— where we are? Not even in the slightest,I'd bargain, And even if we are close to knowing, not nearly close enough to be sure. {Enter The Multiverse} Joke running For the taking Triplicate Triple licks Ice cream frosting Every morning Shoulda hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't Milk and butter (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't Double hitter, Could have did it Should have hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didnt. But I didn't Should have hit him Up But I didn't I never lost my mind My mind My kind But I think I'll find another like it Just in case the Ever happens Hit me harder next time Didn't quite unplug the sijukatoon This is getting difficult When you want sink your yellow teeth into All of my traits The betrayal is, though I was writing days and days Before it ended. With the Mister particular Drop of a hat And stop if a nugget Of gold One palm in my hand and This could be torture But instead it's just The remienxe of your ignorance And stupidity over and over again Forced into intermittent waves Of my creative genius Till the days of old become again You could be of dust then nothing Before I ponder into another birth I said I'd never write one song or verse or poem about you, But there you are, every weak mortal that becomes Bound to me So I see you die. And I learn to pounce at just the right moment React to the notion that there are Oceans of world I am And all the more the lack of wisdom of man To throw trash in it Again, we rid you of her courage And lady mantras And fresh as it gets The sweater no aprons and just period To circumstance Did you beg or did you shatter your ibdederence? And no, I think not But I keep Leno in my pocket And Carson in my coffin, Two whole shows in my wallet What you are is no apostle just a dirt worm .O. Mm…sunlight. …. the rippling waves wash over the picturesque parasicical seascape from above. However, Stefon's internal monologue is less than pleased to be here. V.O. CONT'D Why do I feel sunlight…? [beat] When I know certainly for sure that I passed out in a basement last night. His eyes begin to flutter open, but the sun closes them–it is much too bright. The waves rush over his lower half, and still, unmoving he continues to la atop the rock, his hands spread out much like a stuck sea star to the rock– in fact, there appear to also be creatures here, some of which are starfish, and however unmoving, STEFON begins to slowly become aware of his surroundings in disgruntlement. V.O. Continued. It's alright that I appear to be wet…[beat] That's to be expected– [a long pause, another wave washes over him as seagulls scream] But i was wearing restraints…. V.O. CONTINUED WHY AM I FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!? His eyes open with the fear and fury. BEFORE: At a wild basement party in NEW YORK CITY, STEFON is offered RESTRAINTS on a silver platter, as if they are o'devours {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

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Eric Martin, born October 10, 1960, in Long Island, New York, is best known as the soulful, powerhouse lead vocalist of the rock band Mr. Big. Raised in a military family that moved frequently, Martin eventually found his way to the West Coast, where his passion for music took root. Originally a drummer, he discovered his true calling as a frontman after stepping out from behind the kit. With a naturally commanding voice, he began carving out his place in the Bay Area rock scene during the late '70s and early '80s.His first major break came with the band 415, which soon rebranded as the Eric Martin Band (EMB). Blending hard rock with melodic hooks, the group built a strong regional following and released the album Sucker for a Pretty Face in 1983. They shared stages with giants like ZZ Top, Journey, and Hall & Oates, gaining a reputation for high-energy performances. Despite their momentum, EMB disbanded a couple of years later, leading Martin to pursue a solo career and continue developing his distinct blend of rock, pop, and soul.In 1988, Martin was recruited to front a new supergroup featuring bassist Billy Sheehan, guitarist Paul Gilbert, and drummer Pat Torpey. The band, named Mr. Big, launched with a self-titled debut in 1989 and quickly gained traction. Their 1991 album Lean Into It catapulted them into international stardom, largely thanks to the acoustic ballad “To Be With You,” which topped charts in over a dozen countries. Martin's dynamic vocal range and emotive delivery helped define the band's unique sound—a blend of technical musicianship and sing-along accessibility.Throughout the '90s and into the 2000s, Martin balanced work with Mr. Big alongside a prolific solo career. He released several solo albums, collaborated with Japanese artists, and even joined the Tak Matsumoto Group, a hard rock project that reached No. 1 on Japan's Oricon charts. One of his most notable side projects was the Mr. Vocalist series, where he reinterpreted classic Japanese and Western pop songs, further cementing his popularity across Asia.Following a brief hiatus, Mr. Big reunited in 2009 for a world tour and new albums, maintaining a loyal fan base across the globe. The band suffered a major loss with the passing of drummer Pat Torpey in 2018, but pressed on in his honor. In 2024, they released Ten, their final studio album, and concluded “The BIG Finish” farewell tour. Today, Eric Martin continues to tour as a solo artist and guest vocalist, beloved by fans for his passionate performances, resilient spirit, and unmistakable voice that's powered some of rock's most enduring anthems.

The age-old adage, that there's a sucker born every minute, in reality describes every one of us in our spiritual lives. We so often fail to realize how we're being schemed against, how we're being influenced, and ultimately how we conform to the patterns of this world. We're ignorant to the implicit costs and systems that keep us from flourishing in our spiritual lives - and what we can't see, we can't break through. But once we wake up and begin to shamelessly resist the influences and habits in our lives that hold us back or lead us astray, we grow in spiritual maturity and experience the freedom of becoming more like Jesus and living in the full glory of who God created us to be. Scripture: Romans 12:1-3 A Living Sacrifice 12 Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. 2 Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. Humble Service in the Body of Christ3 For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you.

This week: Local radio stations, awkward people on flights, hospital visits, KFC in America review, Bonnaroo, Glastonbury controversy, Kneecap, portable toilet cleaners, Ric Flair, getting into gaming, Ukulele's, New York comedy scene, risky airport searches, Liver King vs. Joe Rogan, everyone's on ozempic & much more.Sign up to Patreon⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ for access to exclusive episodes out every Thursday.⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠patreon.com/TheBombSquadPod⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Hello Fresh *Paid Advert*Click here to enjoy an exclusive offer of 50% off your first box, along with a 20% discount for your next 4 boxes plus free desserts for life. Alternatively, you can use my code SQUAD50. This special offer is available for new customers as well as those who cancelled their subscription twelve months ago or more.*T&CS: This offer entitles you to 50% off your first box, and 20% off your next 4 boxes when ordered in consecutive weeks during your first six weeks as a HelloFresh customer. One voucher per customer and household. Must be 18 or over. Once redeemed you will be signed up to a flexible rolling weekly subscription. Valid for UK residents only (including Jersey, Guernsey & Isle of Man), excluding Scottish Highlands and Islands.Follow @TheBombSquadPod on⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠YouTube⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠,⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠,⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠TikTok⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ &⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠X⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.Hosted by:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Colin Geddis⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ &⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Aaron McCann⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Produced & Edited by:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Niall Fegan

Okay, so I could have been getting dicked down, but I chose to record this for you because you're my priority.

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On this weeks episode Brendan chats with Dr. Meagan Kindree about her work on the interactions between the invasive Round Goby and the native White Sucker in the tributaries of the Great Lakes, as well as how the changing thermal regimes brought on by climate change may impact both species.  Dr. Kindree discusses how they came about studying the impacts of Round Goby on juvenile White Sucker, what the experiments on thermal tolerances of both species reveal, and how all hope is not lost for the White Sucker!    You can get in touch with Meagan about her work here: https://x.com/meagankindree?lang=ar or email meagan.kindree@gmail.com.      Main point: "Always be writing!" Get in touch with us! The Fisheries Podcast is on Facebook, X, Instagram, Threads, and Bluesky: @FisheriesPod  Become a Patron of the show: https://www.patreon.com/FisheriesPodcast Buy podcast shirts, hoodies, stickers, and more: https://teespring.com/stores/the-fisheries-podcast-fan-shop Thanks as always to Andrew Gialanella for the fantastic intro/outro music. The Fisheries Podcast is a completely independent podcast, not affiliated with a larger organization or entity. Reference to any specific product or entity does not constitute an endorsement or recommendation by the podcast. The views expressed by guests are their own and their appearance on the program does not imply an endorsement of them or any entity they represent. Views and opinions expressed by the hosts are those of that individual and do not necessarily reflect the view of any entity with those individuals are affiliated in other capacities (such as employers).

Send us a text Get ready for some food, friends, and fuckery! Ronnie and Brian are here, but it's a wacky Wednesday recording time. Brian's prepping for Bonnaroo, stressing about the rain and his shoe game. Lost phone? He's got a QR code trick!Then, it's all about Ronnie's new pizza oven! He's fired up, talking hot temps, and plans to cook everything from smoked carnitas to clams. They're geeking out over grills, woks, and all things cooking. Plus, they're dreaming up Boys Week feasts. Get ready for some laughs and kitchen insporation!What We DrankBrian - SinghaRonnie - PacificoSTAY CREAMY

Crime on a WednesdayFirst, a look at the events of the dayThen Let George Do It starring Bob Bailey and Virginia Gregg, originally broadcast June 11, 1951,  74 years ago, Sucker Stunt.   George Valentine is the sucker when he proves Tim McGeehan is guilty of armed robbery. But what about the murder that McGeehan committed? George Valentine provides McGeehan's alibi!Followed by Boston Blackie starring Dick Kollmar, originally broadcast June 11, 1947, 78 years ago, Blackie Shoots a Watchman. Mary hires a private detective to follow Boston Blackie! Blackie shoots a watchman!Then Calling All Cars, originally broadcast June 11, 1935, 90 years ago, Hot Bonds. Stolen "Liberty Bonds" are being "unloaded" for Pretty Boy Floyd's gang. Floyd himself had died only a few months before this broadcast. Followed by I Was a Communist For The FBI starring Dana Andrews, originally broadcast June 11, 1952, 73 years ago, The American Kremlin.   After seeing a dead body at Party headquarters, Cvetic is sent to New York to subvert a labor union. Cvetic is accused of being an FBI spy by a clever fat man.Finally, Lum and Abner, originally broadcast June 11, 1942, 83 years ago, Trying to get Poetic License.  Lum calls the Town Hall to apply for a "Poetic License."Thanks to Adele for supporting our podcast by using the Buy Me a Coffee function at http://classicradio.streamIf you like what we do here, visit our friend Jay at http://radio.macinmind.com for great old time radio shows 24 hours a day

This is a preview of a premium episode from our Patreon feed, Paid Costly For Me! Head over to Patreon.com/PodCastyForMe to hear more for just $5 a month. We return to our very slow trip through the films of Sergio Leone with 1971's DUCK, YOU SUCKER!, also known as A FISTFUL OF DYNAMITE, also known as GIÙ LA TESTA, a story of the Mexican Revolution starring Rod Steiger and James Coburn. It's a real humdinger of an episode, as Jake's allergies flare up while he tells a long story about some unpleasant men at the barbershop, Ian explains the Mexican Revolution, and we both read passages from Frantz Fanon. Enjoy! Thanks as always to Jetski for our theme music and to Jeremy Allison for our artwork. https://www.podcastyforme.com/ Follow Pod Casty For Me: https://twitter.com/podcastyforme https://www.instagram.com/podcastyforme/ https://www.youtube.com/@podcastyforme Support us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/PodCastyForMe Artwork by Jeremy Allison: https://www.instagram.com/jeremyallisonart  

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To what extent should you commit to your decision? Ol Travis haven't let anything stop him from being with his women. Meanwhile #BlackLove is calling it quits and saying it was never worth it

In today's episode, Scott Melker joins us to break down the latest in the crypto market. From corporate treasuries buying up Bitcoin at record rates to the long-awaited altcoin season, we get into the shifts happening in the world of crypto. Are we at the peak of the market, or is this just the beginning? Is Bitcoin decoupling from traditional markets? And what's the deal with altcoins? ~~~~~

George Valentine is the sucker when he proves Tim McGeehan is guilty of armed robbery. But what about the murder that McGeehan committed? George Valentine provides McGeehan's alibi!

“If you put this in a movie script, no one would believe it.”What do you get when you mix a playoff sucker punch, a heartbreaking personal tragedy, and one of the most emotionally charged hockey moments in recent memory? You get an episode of The Ben and Skin Show that hits harder than a Jamie Benn sucker punch. In this gripping and unexpectedly moving episode, hosts Ben Rogers, Jeff “Skin” Wade, Kevin “KT” Turner, and Krystina Ray take listeners on a rollercoaster of sports, emotion, and absurdity. Skin breaks down the surreal saga of Mark Scheifele, a Winnipeg Jets star who was sucker-punched by Jamie Benn, lost his father unexpectedly the next day, and still managed to score the first goal in a do-or-die playoff game—only to end up in the penalty box as his team was eliminated. The moment Benn was the first to hug him after the game? Pure sports cinema.Notable Quotes & Moments:

 On this week's Musky 360 Podcast,  Danny Herbeck joins us with info on Savage Gear's exciting new Musky topwater bait. Josh Kreger on the Northern Wisconsin Musky Fishing opener forecast, all with your host Steven Paul and co-host Jay Esse.  

Kat StewartActor Kat Stewart has built a reputation as one of Australia's most outstanding actors. Renowned for her exceptional performances across a diverse range of unforgettable characters on both stage and screen, Kat has played leading roles on productions including Five Bedrooms Offspring and Underbelly One Night, Black Snow (series 2), Mr and Mrs Murder, Tangle (Series 1-3), Newstopia (Series 1-3), Supernova (Series 1-2)and the original Underbelly. Her many guest credits include Get Krack'n, Orange is the New Brown, No Activity, True Story with Hamish and Andy and Jack Irish. Film credits include Little Monsters, West of Sunshine, Sucker and My Melbourne. Her work on stage includes Melbourne Theatre Company's Admissions, Heisenberg, Disgraced, The Speechmaker, Frost Nixon and Festen. She was an active member at Red Stitch Actors Theatre for ten years with credits including Creditors, The Little Dog Laughed, The Shape of Things, Bug, Dirty Butterfly and Loyal Women.  Kat's historic return to the company in 2023 to play Martha in the highly acclaimed sell-out season of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? led to a further successful commercial season at Melbourne's Comedy Theatre in 2024 and an upcoming remount for the Sydney Theatre Company for their 2025 season at the Roslyn Packer Theatre. Among many nominations, Kat received an AACTA Award for Offspring and both an AFI and Logie for Most Outstanding Actress in Underbelly.She is a proud Ambassador for The Magical Getaway Foundation (MGF) and Australian Literacy and Numeracy Foundation (ALNF).Deborah's Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/what.ive.learnt/Mind, Film and Publishing: https://www.mindfilmandpublishing.com/Apple Podcast: https://podcasts.apple.com/au/podcast/what-ive-learnt/id153556330Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/3TQjCspxcrSi4yw2YugxBkBuzzsprout: https://www.buzzsprout.com/1365850

Mathematicians keep suggesting games so infuriating that other people rebel against numbers.Support the show

They've got wings, big eyes, and even bigger mouths. Lets talk about the Wheel of Times dark soul suckers, the Draghkar! Want more Black Tower Podcast stuff? Check out our linktree for links to our Website, Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and others! Linktree: https://linktr.ee/blacktowerpodcast Make sure to check out the Wheel of Time Soundscape! https://jordanrannells.com/ Get 10% off of Dubby Energy by using code BTP or this link: https://www.dubby.gg/discount/BTP New Creations by Jen: https://www.newcreationsbyjen.com Intro Music - Black Tower Podcast by Slylock https://soundcloud.com/theslylock Outro Music - The Black Tower by Androl-Bard of Time https://www.youtube.com/c/AndrolBardoftime

In this episode, Scott Becker humorously explores the irresistible pull of golf club marketing, the psychology behind consumer impulses, and his own battle with resisting the latest gear.

In this episode, Scott Becker humorously explores the irresistible pull of golf club marketing, the psychology behind consumer impulses, and his own battle with resisting the latest gear.

Support the D.A.W.G.Z. @ patreon.com/MSsecretpod Go See Matt Live @ mattmccusker.com/dates Go See Shane Live @ shanemgillis.com Go See Lemaire Lee Live @ https://lemairelee.fun/ Go See Shawn Gardini Live @ https://www.shawngardini.com/live Hello everyone. Good Morning. Hope you're all having a good start to your day. Fambly ep this week - just the D.A.W.G.Z. We talk all the hot topix, current events, and happenings. And everything is alleged. Please Enjoy. God Bless. Download the PrizePicks app or visit https://prizepicks.onelink.me/LME0/DRENCHED today and use code Drenched to get $50 instantly after you play your first $5 lineup Get $35-off Carver Mat at AuraFrames.com with code: MSSP Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Join hosts Gleenobly and Russ with special guests Ath and Adam as they speak about moments where people don't care what they look like... they're on a mission... they're focused... their IN IT TO WIN IT!  Enjoy!Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/punctuated-by-a-lemon--4617484/support.

The Damage Report host John Iadarola will be joined by Brett Erlich, TYT Commentator and Rebel HQ contributor to discuss today's top stories. Trump is rebuked by another judge in the case of Abrego Garcia. Senator Chris Van Hollen finally meets with Garcia. Trump distances himself from the Garcia case. Mark Zuckerberg was kissing up to Trump as his company faces a FTC lawsuit. Seth Rogan's joke against tech billionaires was cut from an awards show. Trump is upset that he can't seek revenge on the Jan. 6 probers. Ms. Rachel speaks out after a pro-Israel group reports her to the DOJ. Co-Host: Brett Erlich ***** SUBSCRIBE on YOUTUBE TIKTOK  ☞           https://www.tiktok.com/@thedamagereport INSTAGRAM  ☞   https://www.instagram.com/thedamagereport TWITTER  ☞         https://twitter.com/TheDamageReport FACEBOOK  ☞     https://www.facebook.com/TheDamageReportTYT

Not to get too big-headed or anything, but I think it's fair to say that here at Indieventure we knew about Blue Prince before almost anyone. The demo that sparked obsessions in both Rachel and Rebecca over the past few months has now transformed into 2025's most highly-rated game release so far, garnering early GOTY predictions not just within the indie space, but even when compared to this year's roster of Triple-As (which let's be honest, is so far pretty muted due to everyone and their mum being afraid of launching up against GTA6). So, naturally, we're dedicating this episode to Blue Prince now that it's out. And once again, we have a minority report situation on our hands, because while Rebecca and Rachel remain captivated, Liam has some thoughts that go against the general consensus on this game. But it's us, so of course we have a kind and respectful discussion that only goes off the rails through incidental chatter. There's only so much you can say about a game that's really best encountered with minimal spoilers, though, so we use Blue Prince as a jumping-off point to talk about houses in games generally. It sounds straightforward enough, but when you stop to think about it, a quite staggering number of video games touch on domestic spaces – for everything from humanising characters who might otherwise be difficult to identify with, to creating a sense of dread as the familiar turns sinister. We talk about a lot of games – including quite a few illegal AAAs who provide some vital context for the discussion – but for those of you who like to keep track, the indie game houses we touch on here include the essentials like the ones found in Gone Home and What Remains of Edith Finch, as well as The Cosmic Wheel Sisterhood, The Crush House, Devotion, Go-Go Town, Layers of Fear, Lorelei and the Laser Eyes, Lost Records, Mouthwashing, PowerWash Simulator, The Room, Rusty Lake, Stardew Valley, Sucker for Love, Tangle Tower, Thank Goodness You're Here, Unpacking, and Visage. As always and ever, we end on our current hyperfixations. Liam has been playing Promise Mascot Agency – which launched on the same day as Blue Prince and will surely be coming up on the pod again – and has been as delighted by it as you'd expect the person who inducted Paradise Killer into the vault to be with its long-anticipated follow-up. Rebecca has been reading Elphie: A Wicked Childhood, the latest book by Gregory Maguire that staunchly refuses to make concessions to the stage/film version of Wicked compared to the much weirder original novel series that she's loved for decades. And while it's maybe not her usual genre, Rachel has been surprised to find herself really, really enjoying newly-released tower defense RTS Cataclismo. Our music was written and performed by Ollie Newbury! Find him on Instagram at @newbsmusic. Meanwhile, you can find us at indieventurepodcast.co.uk or wherever you listen to podcasts, and don't forget that you can now join our dedicated Discord too!

We are lucky enough to be joined by the incredible Akabaka, lead developer/writer/artist of one our favorite game series Sucker for Love! We asked him all about his development process, how he got into the business, and future plans for both his upcoming game Chromatose and a future Sucker for Love game!Follow Akabaka on Bluesky⁠The Nerd Lys Links⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Join the Corner of the Internet Discord!⁠⁠Follow the show on ⁠⁠⁠⁠Bluesky⁠!⁠⁠⁠⁠Follow Eric on Twitch⁠!⁠⁠⁠Follow Eric on Bluesky!⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Follow Jess on Bluesky⁠⁠⁠⁠!Produced and Edited by ⁠Eric Gilles⁠Music Credit - ⁠Shane Ivers

Send us a textIs this written by me or an AI? Will you hear my voice or an AI voice in this podcast? (Spoiler, you'll hear both)AI voices and images are so easy to create these days that it's easy to throw someone into a money-gushing panic if they get a phone call from a friend claiming to be in trouble.The key is not to try and recognize the voice, but to recognize the scam. We'll tell you how and it's not that difficult to learn.

Today’s show sponsored by: Goldco — 10% Instant Match in BONUS SILVER, for qualified JLP Show listeners Learn more at https://JesseLovesGold.com or 855-644-GOLD

This month also brings solar plexus clearing and activation—which means willpower, identity, and power patterns are being cleared and restructured.This is a quick but important update. I know I mentioned some physical symptoms in the April 2025 Energy Forecast, but I've been feeling them so strongly that I wanted to speak directly to them here—because chances are, you might be feeling this, too.One of the biggest things I've been noticing—and maybe you have too—is just how intense the solar plexus clearing and activation has been.At the end of March and into April, I've been moving through a deep wave of fatigue and recalibration, especially centered in the stomach area/the solar plexus. And here's what's going on:The solar plexus is the energetic center of our willpower, identity, confidence, and personal power. It's also where we hold a lot of karmic patterns, ancestral imprints, and control-based energy. So when higher frequencies of Light and truth start to stream in—especially after Eclipse season—this part of the body has to clear out old density first before it can receive the activation.You can't integrate more Light if there's no room for it.So what we're feeling is both a release and an acclimation:The release of stored fear, control, self-doubt, or trauma that's been stuck in the gutAnd the acclimation to a new energetic frequency—one that requires us to carry personal power in a new wayThis shift can feel like exhaustion, heaviness, or even waves of emotional release tied to self-worth or feeling safe in your own power.

Episode 1471: Sucker

Welcome to Monsters on the Edge, a show exploring creatures at the edge of our reality in forests, cities, skies, and waters. We examine these creatures and talk to the researchers studying them.Joining us on this week's show:Dijo Thomas is a scientist and a theoretical zoologist, from South India. Dijo grew up in Nigeria, and from his early days in college he was interested in studying and protecting the world around him. Using his method of F3B-NSPM he has been able to scientific prove the existence of novel species. He has presented 4 scientific papers on the Neelagiri Kaduva or Neelagiri Tiger, as well as 2 papers scientific papers on the Raktha Athika or Indian Chupacabra at the 103rd and 104th Indian Science Congress.Dijo is a Political analyst, wildlife conservationist, weapons systems developer, human rights activist, and police & judicial reform activist.Websitewww.dijothomas.com/https://dijothomasscientist.blogspot.com/Youtube:https://www.youtube.com/@DijoThomasClick that play button, and let's unravel the mysteries of the UNTOLD! Remember to like, share, and subscribe to our channel to stay updated on all the latest discoveries and adventures. See you there!Join Barnaby Jones each Monday on the Untold Radio Network Live at 12pm Central – 10am Pacific and 1pm Eastern. Come and Join the live discussion next week. Please subscribe.We have ten different Professional Podcasts on all the things you like. New favorite shows drop each day only on the UNTOLD RADIO NETWORKTo find out more about Barnaby Jones and his team, (Cryptids, Anomalies, and the Paranormal Society) visit their website www.WisconsinCAPS.comMake sure you share and Subscribe to the CAPS YouTube Channel as wellhttps://www.youtube.com/channel/UCs7ifB9Ur7x2C3VqTzVmjNQ

Episode 1471: Sucker

Welcome to Monsters on the Edge, a show exploring creatures at the edge of our reality in forests, cities, skies, and waters. We examine these creatures and talk to the researchers studying them.Joining us on this week's show:Dijo Thomas is a scientist and a theoretical zoologist, from South India. Dijo grew up in Nigeria, and from his early days in college he was interested in studying and protecting the world around him. Using his method of F3B-NSPM he has been able to scientific prove the existence of novel species. He has presented 4 scientific papers on the Neelagiri Kaduva or Neelagiri Tiger, as well as 2 papers scientific papers on the Raktha Athika or Indian Chupacabra at the 103rd and 104th Indian Science Congress.Dijo is also a Political analyst, wildlife conservationist, weapons systems developer, human rights activist, and police & judicial reform activist.Websitewww.dijothomas.com/https://dijothomasscientist.blogspot.com/Youtube:https://www.youtube.com/@DijoThomasClick that play button, and let's unravel the mysteries of the UNTOLD! Remember to like, share, and subscribe to our channel to stay updated on all the latest discoveries and adventures. See you there!Join Barnaby Jones each Monday on the Untold Radio Network Live at 12pm Central – 10am Pacific and 1pm Eastern. Come and Join the live discussion next week. Please subscribe.We have ten different Professional Podcasts on all the things you like. New favorite shows drop each day only on the UNTOLD RADIO NETWORKTo find out more about Barnaby Jones and his team, (Cryptids, Anomalies, and the Paranormal Society) visit their website www.WisconsinCAPS.comMake sure you share and Subscribe to the CAPS YouTube Channel as wellhttps://www.youtube.com/channel/UCs7ifB9Ur7x2C3VqTzVmjNQ

Corbin (@CHosler), Cass (@devotedDruid), DJ (@CardgardenMTG), and Jason (@jasonEAlt) are sideboarded in mid-game to bring you interesting news about cheating in the magic community, Karaoke edicate, and more. Check us out on Youtube because everything is better with video. https://www.youtube.com/BrainstormBrewery 

Mattman's got a mole on his titty, is it getting bigger? How about a new Fat Boy parody song? Not even from Dan this time Headlines

Ask your smart speaker to "Play One Oh Three One Austin"

A pervert ghost/A possessed soldier   Come see me at the Oregon Ghost Conference March 21st - March 23rd, 2025 http://oregonghostconference.com/   Patreon (Get ad-free episodes, Patreon Discord Access, and more!) https://www.patreon.com/user?u=18482113 PayPal Donation Link https://tinyurl.com/mrxe36ph MERCH STORE!!! https://tinyurl.com/y8zam4o2 Amazon Wish List https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/28CIOGSFRUXAD?ref_=wl_share Help Promote Dead Rabbit! Dual Flyer https://i.imgur.com/OhuoI2v.jpg "As Above" Flyer https://i.imgur.com/yobMtUp.jpg “Alien Flyer” By TVP VT U https://imgur.com/gallery/aPN1Fnw “QR Code Flyer” by Finn https://imgur.com/a/aYYUMAh Links: Bistro Flix https://www.bistroflix.com/ EP 1423 - Did Lady Gaga Cast A Spell On SNL? (Singapore Dwarf Sit On My Head episode) https://deadrabbitradio.libsyn.com/ep-1423-did-lady-gaga-cast-a-spell-on-snl EP 1413 - Do Your Dead Relatives Watch You Have Sex? https://deadrabbitradio.libsyn.com/ep-1413-do-your-dead-relatives-watch-you-have-sex Halloween is around the corner, Reddit, what is the most "paranormal" thing you have ever experienced? (Grandma Pulls Blanket I Just Want To See Him One More Time story) https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/12c1ns/comment/c6u2k6a/ How often do you guys wash below your knees in the shower? https://www.reddit.com/r/AskMen/comments/mtfue1/how_often_do_you_guys_wash_below_your_knees_in/ [TGIF] Share your paranormal experiences in Singapore here! (MacRitchie Singapore Army Possession story) https://www.reddit.com/r/singapore/comments/1b3ina3/comment/kstw3vy/ During your two-year national service stint in Singapore, did you encounter any ghosts or supernatural incidents? https://www.quora.com/During-your-two-year-national-service-stint-in-Singapore-did-you-encounter-any-ghosts-or-supernatural-incidents/answer/Zack-C-117?ch=17&oid=49169448&share=ef07fdf1&srid=xUKn&target_type=answer Map Of Area (MacRitchie Island Country Club) https://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g294265-d386880-Reviews-MacRitchie_Nature_Trail-Singapore.html#MAPVIEW Which part of Singapore's central forest areas are SCS's navigation exercises held? https://www.reddit.com/r/singapore/comments/61l7s8/which_part_of_singapores_central_forest_areas_are/ Kuntilanak (Pontianak) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuntilanak   Adolfo Constanzo https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adolfo_Constanzo ------------------------------------------------ Logo Art By Ash Black Opening Song: "Atlantis Attacks" Closing Song: "Bella Royale" Music By Simple Rabbitron 3000 created by Eerbud Thanks to Chris K, Founder Of The Golden Rabbit Brigade Dead Rabbit Archivist Some Weirdo On Twitter AKA Jack YouTube Champ: Stewart Meatball Reddit Champ: TheLast747 The Haunted Mic Arm provided by Chyme Chili Discord Mods: Mason Forever Fluffle: Cantillions, Samson, Gregory Gilbertson, Jenny http://www.DeadRabbit.com Email: DeadRabbitRadio@gmail.com Facebook: www.Facebook.com/DeadRabbitRadio TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@deadrabbitradio Dead Rabbit Radio Subreddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/DeadRabbitRadio/ Paranormal News Subreddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/ParanormalNews/ Mailing Address Jason Carpenter PO Box 1363 Hood River, OR 97031 Paranormal, Conspiracy, and True Crime news as it happens! Jason Carpenter breaks the stories they'll be talking about tomorrow, assuming the world doesn't end today. All Contents Of This Podcast Copyright Jason Carpenter 2018 - 2025  

Leo: "Soccer or Sucker?" 03/07/25

Dr. Don and Professor Ben talk about the risks posed by using a “snot sucker” with ones mouth. Dr. Don - risky ☣️ Professor Ben - risky ☣️ NoseFrida the SnotSucker – Frida | The fuss stops here. NoseFrida: Winter Colds and Baby's Snot: A Better Way to Clear It Out • ItsaBelly Doulas Amazon.com : BABY-VAC Clinically Tested Baby Nasal Aspirator - Vacuum-Powered Nose Sucker with Suction Head & Cleaning Brush for Safe and Gentle Relief : Baby Bathing Products : Baby Comparing nasal suction devices in children with bronchiolitis: A pilot randomized control trial - Journal of Pediatric Nursing: Nursing Care of Children and Families Nasal Suction Tip: Little Sucker® Nasal Tip - Neotech Products NoseFrida HYGIENE FILTERS – Frida | The fuss stops here.

Mexican mayo makes for great sunblock!!!!!!!

From their livestream on 2/17/25, Our Honorable Hero Judges are back to rule on YOUR food crimes. Hear court cases about cookie sucking, saltine mayo, coffee cheese, plus MORE! If you want to be a part of these livestreams, become a Bug at least over on our Patreon and send in your priority Food Court submission. Part 2 will be out next Saturday. Our next livestream will be Tuesday March 4th @ 4pm CT where we watch the Taco Bell Live Mas Livestream YOU! Join the discord! Support us directly https://www.patreon.com/100percenteat where you can join the discord with other 100 Percenters, stay up to date on everything, and get The Michael, Jordan Podcast every Friday. Follow us on IG & Twitter: @100percenteat Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Sure, Josh yells at you guys. Never at co-workers! A snow village in China didn't get snow, so they used cotton. Why is a woman putting pre-sucked Skittles in a gas tank? We remember the days of sitting in the hall. And so much more on a Wednesdee!

On a mission trip, one student climbed into bed only to realize a homeschooled kid had his foot… in his mouth. Join Sam, Isaiah, and Cole on this episode of Youth Group Chronicles for more outrageous youth group stories.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week Meghan and Melisa are giving advice on: Not knowing how to kiss An unsupportive classmate Retrieving your nudes Don't Blame Them and an Update the Co-Sucking Co-Worker Buy Our Merch https://crowdmade.com/collections/sister-sign Call In - 310-694-0976 (3 minutes or less) Write In - meghanpodcast@gmail.com (300 words or less) Follow Us! instagram.com/meghanandmelisa @meghanrienks instagram.com/meghanrienks https://twitter.com/meghanrienks @sheisnotmelissa instagram.com/sheisnotmelissa instagram.com/diamondmprint.productions Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices