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Kaz and Tubes are joined live in the studio by Premier of Tasmania, Jeremy Rockliff, for a chat about Agfest, his plans to address youth crime, and the launch of Incat’s new electric vessel.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Paul and Mikaela come to you live (-ish) from try! Swift Tokyo, where the air is filled with both cherry blossom and excitement about WWDC 2025!We've got advice for attending in-person events (and why we think you should), our first reactions to Swift 6.1 and Swiftly 1.0, plus, the long-running saga of whether Mikaela's app Fruitful — which would be perfect for something like WWDC, Mikaela, just sayin' — is finally done. Is it? You'll have to listen to find out!Essential links from the episode:Prismic: https://github.com/twostraws/PrismicFruitful: https://getfruitful.appWWDC repository: https://github.com/twostraws/wwdc/Hue lightbulb: https://www.ryantoken.com/blog/serverless-swiftConferences:iOSKonf (13–15 May): https://www.ioskonf.mkSwiftCraft (19–21 May): https://swiftcraft.ukConference organizers: we'd love to feature more events here on a regular basis. Get in touch with us when early bird tickets go on sale, or when you announce speakers or something else, and we'll do our best to feature you!
Most — but not all — political scientists are deeply troubled by the president's attempts to expand executive power, according to a national survey. NPR's Frank Langfitt reports. Read more here. Support NPR and hear every episode of Trump's Terms sponsor-free with NPR+. Sign up at plus.npr.org.Learn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy
P.S. If you stumbled upon this and not yet in CASAWorld; get inside NOW. Your transformation starts TODAY! 2 Ways to be in CASA World: CASAcademy: Join the only membership on the internet that gives hands-on support for your life-changing, globally impactful business for just $88 per month (lock in this low rate now). > Join us here
Welcome to another #MakeYaMove Monday on the Move Swiftly Podcast!
It's Star Wars party time at Disneyland, and I'm here to tell you all about it! Join me as we hit Star Tours, Hyperspace Mountain, and of course Star Wars: Galaxy's Edge. Plus... learn how to mix your very own Oga's Cantina cocktail!Join the Short for a Stormtrooper community!Discord: https://discord.gg/a89TD3XdFXEmail: SFASpod@gmail.com
Happy Saturday AmRads! Today we are catching up on all the news stories that we didn't' have time to cover this week. Swiftly becoming an AmRad tradition, another iteration of the Saturday Grab Bag! The Ark of the Covenant found by the CIA? Lady Graham receives Trump's endorsement. The Democrats continue to falter in polls and ideology, and more! Steve's Book: https://a.co/d/7OHXrrp The O'Boyle Sweatshop: https://The-Suspendables.Com Check out True Earth Farmacy and use promo code "AMRAD25" for a 10% discount site-wide: https://trueearth.co/collections/farmacy Visit M-Clip and use promo code "SUSPENDABLE" for a 10% discount site-wide: https://www.m-clip.com/suspendable
Today on the Logan Blackman Show we check in on our March Madness bracket, going through each and every game while discussing where we went right or wrong with our selections. We then take some time to compare this year's bracket to last year's as well as go over the differences between the show's bracket and the bracket we actually submitted for money. Swiftly moving to the NFL we take a look at the quarterback carousel from around the league, as both Jameis Winston and Russell Wilson signed with the New York Giants whereas Aaron Rodgers' future is still seemingly in limbo. Finally, we give a little rant about Stefon Diggs signing with the New England Patriots as well as go over how much we should care about Xavier Restrepo's 40-yard dash time at Miami's Pro Day. Enjoy!
No matter what happens—good, bad, or in between—life keeps moving forward. The phrase *"It goes on"* reminds us that challenges, heartbreak, and even success are all just moments in time. In this video, we break down the deeper meaning behind these three simple words and how they can shape our mindset, resilience, and perspective on life. If you're feeling stuck or overwhelmed, this is your reminder: Keep going. Life doesn't pause, and neither should you. **
Elon Musk is going to the Defense Department today, but not as the “fake news” New York Times breathlessly reported, to get briefed on top secret plans for war with Communist China. Let's pray it's for Elon to take on yet-another immense service to the country – one he is arguably uniquely suited to render. President Trump wants a “Golden Dome” to protect America against missile attacks. Unfortunately, the Pentagon's plan for doing so is virtually certain to take too long and pay too much for defenses that are insufficiently effective to reduce an attacker's confidence in conducting a decisive strike – the essence of deterrence. Fortunately, with Trump's trust, a White House office and Elon's record of swiftly and affordably getting big things done in space, we could deploy the defense we need there before the President leaves office. Make it so! This is Frank Gaffney.
Today on the Logan Blackman Show we go reveal our officially official March Madness predictions, going region by region, game by game and coming up with probably the worst bracket ever seen by human eyes. That being said, based on how last year's predicted Auburn v Kentucky championship match up went up in flames after the first round, it really can't be much worse, right? Swiftly moving on from college basketball we take a look at Chris Simms' recently released quarterback rankings, taking a look at some past rankings while also comparing his current one to mine. We then take a look at this year's running back class, going over the depth at the position as well as discussing why it's a pretty good year to need a running back. Finally we go over Ja'Marr Chase and Tee Higgins' contract extensions, discussing if they're a good or bad move for the organization while also seeing where their duo ranks amongst the other top duos in the league. Enjoy!
In this Tactics for Tech Leadership podcast episode, Andy and Mon-Chaio explore SWIFT (Structured What If Technique). While traditionally seen as a technical tool for failure analysis, the hosts consider its potential applications in leadership and organizational contexts. Listeners will learn how SWIFT can help anticipate system failures even before they occur, from technical systems like Redis caches to social-technical systems like performance reviews and hiring processes. By the end, you'll understand how to adapt this structured method for diagnosing issues and improving both technical and organizational systems.Transcript: https://thettlpodcast.com/2025/03/18/s3e10-swiftly-understanding-failure-modes/ReferencesSWIFT - https://www.asems.mod.uk/toolkit/swift
Ever had “coworkers” who just know how to push your buttons? Yeah, me too. But instead of losing my mind, I turn to college football. In this video, I break down how the game helps me handle those frustrating moments at work—whether it's by teaching patience, strategy, or just giving me something way more important to focus on. Watch now: [https://youtu.be/zxwLPC_moSo](https://youtu.be/zxwLPC_moSo?si=yCYG0qQthqLxNRdK) If you love football, need a mental escape from the daily grind, or just want to hear how sports can actually make you better at dealing with people, this one's for you! Don't forget to **like, subscribe, and hit that notification bell** so you never miss a video. Trust me, you'll want to stick around for this one!
#SwampWatch: Canada and the EU swiftly retaliate against Trump's steel and aluminum tariffs. New car tech overwhelming. #Parenting w/ Justin Worsham: Think raising a baby is expensive? This new number will shock you/ Being a parent keeps the brain young – especially if you've got multiple kids.
Canada and the EU swiftly retaliate against Trump’s steel and aluminum tariffs Please Subscribe + Rate & Review KMJ’s Afternoon Drive with Philip Teresi & E. Curtis Johnson wherever you listen! --- KMJ’s Afternoon Drive with Philip Teresi & E. Curtis Johnson is available on the KMJNOW app, Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music or wherever else you listen. --- Philip Teresi & E. Curtis Johnson – KMJ’s Afternoon Drive Weekdays 2-6 PM Pacific on News/Talk 580 & 105.9 KMJ DriveKMJ.com | Podcast | Facebook | X | Instagram --- Everything KMJ: kmjnow.com | Streaming | Podcasts | Facebook | X | Instagram See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Canada and the EU swiftly retaliate against Trump’s steel and aluminum tariffs Please Subscribe + Rate & Review KMJ’s Afternoon Drive with Philip Teresi & E. Curtis Johnson wherever you listen! --- KMJ’s Afternoon Drive with Philip Teresi & E. Curtis Johnson is available on the KMJNOW app, Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music or wherever else you listen. --- Philip Teresi & E. Curtis Johnson – KMJ’s Afternoon Drive Weekdays 2-6 PM Pacific on News/Talk 580 & 105.9 KMJ DriveKMJ.com | Podcast | Facebook | X | Instagram --- Everything KMJ: kmjnow.com | Streaming | Podcasts | Facebook | X | Instagram See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Jackie's lonely deep-space post enjoys delicious company.Based on a post by Alizzia. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.Jackie awoke to a twinkling, navy-blue night. She lay still, perceived the idle murmer of gulls and surf, the sweet air, the soft and runny sand against her back. With every little rush of the surf, a liquid touch caressed her. Startlingly chill. Goosebumps prickled her naked form. She pulled a long, resuscitating breath, sat up.She nearly gasped. Out on the surf, submerged to the dimpled saddle of his hips, stood a bare and strapping figure. Head tipped to the moon, he raised and clasped corded hands, stretched. He twisted, hummed as he arched the broad, inverted triangle of his lats. Yawning luxuriantly, he turned, dropped his arms, smiled at Jackie.Jackie's pulse fluttered. She returned the crinkled hazel eyes' smile. The figure blushed a hint, turned a bashful eye to the sea. He approached. Surf split and foamed about his hips, thighs, knees, ankles. All softly corded, olive, and bare.He stopped inches from Jackie's toes, let his gaze drag over her, slow. She blushed in return, twisted a little, pulled and bent her knees to touch. Responding, his eyes flicked to her face, stopped there. Though not a turn of betrayed sentiment showed on his lips, a soft bundle of creases remained at the corners of his eyes, somehow more intense. He lingered on her mouth, nose, eyes, canted his head just a hint. A hoarse, longing sigh rose from his chest.Some melted excitement splashed into Jackie's chest and belly. Returning the gaze in full measure, she straightened her legs, arms, lay back on the sand. She raised a challenging brow.Slow, the figure knelt, touched one knee to the beach, then the other. He straddled just one of Jackie's legs, bent, placed heavy hands beside her head. Jackie could hear the wet sand squish under his weight. He bent ever so close, stopped, just breathed. Not a slip of skin touched between them. Droplets fell from his locks and long nose, fell just inches before rolling down Jackie's cheeks. He smelt of salt and earth.Jackie's lips parted involuntarily, asymmetrically. Never breaking her gaze, she stretched, wriggled just a bit, tilted her groin and chin. She heard the figure's pupils dilate, heard his shuddering breath, sensed his heavy arousal. A small smile of glee split her face. She squirmed in the sand beneath him, like a sea star, free beneath his hanging weight. Then, suddenly deadly serious, she stopped. With dearest care, she shifted just a little, pulled the inside of a smooth thigh to meet his knee. The figure shuddered, shut his eyes. Jackie struck, pushed her lips into his. For a moment, she could taste the warmth, the salt. Then, the world spun.The figure disappeared. The stars went out. The black sky fell away. Jackie awoke to a riveted, titanium ceiling studded with white lights. She flailed momently, gasping wetly. Tubes hung before her face, wet with the spit of her own trachea. Pressure lifted from her wrists, ankles, and abdomen. She began to float from the padded pod where she lay.Jackie's clumsy fingers found rails on either edge of the pod. She held herself within, panted. She swallowed dryly, blinked, surveyed the pod, her white sleep shorts and top, the room about her. After a moment, she groaned in recognition and disappointment. Any arousal she'd experienced had flown with her dream, left her with naught but a sodden crotch in a chilly room."Good morning, Specialist Jaqueline Kent," said a voice, at once sonorous and very dull.Jackie tried to sit up and look over the side of the bed. The inertia of the action strained her fingers. Her hands split from the rail. She floated from the bed, frowned.Across the room was a crop-haired man in red. His cotton jumpsuit strained where it failed to accommodate his chest and back. He had cold, blue eyes and a pointed nose. He held onto a support rail, feet firmly affixed to the vaguely-concave floor in magnet boots."Who the fu..." coughed Jackie, barely audible. She rasped. "The fuck are you?" She inadvertently turned upside down in the microgravity, crossed her arms over her floating tits."My pardon, Specialist Kent. My designation is Sam.""You're..." said Jackie, trying to find a more dignified stance. She failed, ended up sort of weakly kicking off the side wall. She made a face as she clipped the stasis pod, wheeled into Sam. Her face collided with his broad chest. He caught her there. For a moment, Jackie's cheek and nose pressed into him. He was firm, but soft. He smelled of soap and salt."You're a service unit, an organic android?" she said, frowning, as Sam pulled her away from him."Indeed.""Why isn't this place being spun for gravity?" raged Jackie, shuffling from his grasp. Strong fingers released from her upper arms."The habitat is spun for only eight hours of the 24-hour cycle, per regulated health minimums. Generator and battery capacity are prioritized for the lighthouse array, rather than gravity rotors. The next spin commences tonight, in several minutes," said Sam, smiling thinly. "For now, please accept these mag boots.""Fine," said Jackie, cold. She bumped against the wall, struggled to pull a boot on. The other floated away. She made a face, huffed, weak from stasis sleep. "Please, allow me," said Sam. For just a moment, Jackie twisted her face as if to protest, but relented. She moved close, allowed the android to wrap an arm around each of her calves in turn, slip a boot over the foot, and strap it tight. For a moment, she relaxed, felt the long hands wrap near-entirely round her bare ankles. They were firm, but not rough. Sam moved away. "There."Jackie tentatively pushed away, set a foot to the floor, felt it stick. "Thanks," she said, quietly."Allow me to show you around the lighthouse. Afterwards, you may recuperate. It will only take a moment. The station is not large, and I understand by your Company service record that you have served in this role before.""There wasn't an android on my last lighthouse. I do this job because I like the solitude."Sam looked genuinely regretful. "I am sorry. You must understand I was attached to this station by the company. I am their property.""Yeah, yeah," said Jackie, seeing his face. A spike of empathy broke through her grumpiness. "You don't seem like bad company, anyway. What model are you?" she said, as Sam opened the hatch for them to exit."I am a Serault Corporation Ceres-6," he said, stepping through. Jackie followed. The concave floor of the room beyond was double-walled transparent alloy. It acted as a gigantic window out onto the red and purple nebula which the lighthouse was meant to warn of. Along the walls, set so one might look down into the nebula, were leather benches, a few pod chairs, and a bed with microgravity webbing, all somewhat worn. Crimson light played over the white upholstery and sheets.Jackie looked over the living quarters, far nicer than she'd had before. She gaped at the nebula for a moment, watched a streak of magenta light cross Sam's eyes and face. "So, you're one of those white-blooded ones?""My internal serum is a sucrose base. It serves modified roles in all my body fluids. It is indeed an off-white.""Sucrose? A real sweetie, huh?""If indeed it were to be tasted, my serum would taste of sugar." He looked her in the eyes, terribly sincere.Jackie looked away, grinned uncomfortably. "Right. Have any other special features?" she said, sarcastic."As Ceres-6 models are designed for small crew missions, our personality precepts are mutable. We change in reaction or in request to facilitate maximum compatibility.""Ah, well. Good to know." Jackie looked about awkwardly, arms crossed. "I take it this is my room?""Indeed, this is the lighthouse keeper's room," he blinked at her, slow."And where do you sleep?""Though I do not often enter my hibernation cycle, I have a pod in the crew maintenance room we just exited."Jackie suddenly uncrossed her arms, waved one about. "Listen, do you need to stare me straight in the eyeballs all the time? It's freaking me out.""Would you prefer I focus on a different portion of your body?" said Sam. He concernedly looked at her left foot."Like, shit. No. Just let your eyes wander like a normal person, okay?""Understood," said Sam. He glanced at her eyes, then about the room, then down into the floor-window."A little less wildly, maybe.""Yes, Specialist Kent." His eyes flitted over Jackie, focused momently on the nipples poking through her airy sleep top. Jackie crossed her arms, blushed. "And call me Jackie, not Specialist Kent.""Understood, Jackie.""And smile a bit more.""Of course," he said, doing so. Jackie shivered, not from the chill air. The lines which pulled about the android's eyes and nose bridge turned the cold face quite warm. It stayed that way."Well," said Jackie, hesitating. "We're getting on better already," she said, only half as sarcastic as she meant. "Can we continue the tour? I could use a shower.""Of course." He continued to a hatch on the other side of the room. Jackie stepped through as well. They entered a circular room with a ladder in the center. The walls were ringed with computer panels and other hatches."This is the primary communication room. Here, you-""Sam, I know how to use the comms.""My apologies," he said. "This hatch leads to the EVA room. This one to the galley. This one to life support. The ladder leads up to the secondary systems and down to engineering.""I take it life support has the shower?""Indeed.""Great. Anything else?""No. We commence operation tomorrow morning, approximately an hour after the eight-hour spin." He broke off for a moment, canted his head. His eyes trailed over Jackie's bare abdomen, likely by chance. She squirmed, regardless. Sam raised his eyebrows, continued. "The spin, which I believe should commence now."There was a jerk, a hollow whine in the hull of the station, a rush in Jackie's ears. Jackie and Sam slowly settled under the centrifugal forces. Jackie adjusted her shorts, surreptitiously. "I'm going to shower.""There are requisite uniforms and undergarments waiting for you.""Gee, thanks for laying out my underwear.""Of course, Jackie."Jackie shook her head, kicked off the mag boots, stomped to the life support bay. She shut the hatch with a good deal of force. The bathroom was behind a secondary hatch, near the spare air purification tanks and the waterless laundry engine. It was stark, shiny white, floored with nobly grip tiles. There were indeed clothes laid out for her: A red jumpsuit and white boyshorts. Jackie passed them just a glance before dropping her shorts and top. Naked, she passed the small mirror, sneered at her baggy eyes, her body, depilated for stasis sleep.She stepped into the shower. A touch panel reading "Shower Ration: 2 Minutes," met her."Same old station-life," she groaned, punched the Start key.A vertical shower hit from above. Mist quickly filled the room. Jackie moaned for the heat, turned her head and chest to face the stream. Little rivulets poured from her nose, chin, nipples. At these she looked askance, gently surprised. She cupped, rubbed one between thumb and forefinger experimentally, sighed a little. She repeated this with both, sighed a lot. Doing so, suddenly quite determined, she stepped back and leaned back, pressed her rump against the white wall. One hand, the right one, slipped between her hairless legs, which she widened just sufficiently. They wobbled a bit, weak from stasis. She leaned harder against the wall, slipped a middle finger over and through her dripping vulva, split the lips, found it dripping inside, too. The left hand joined, found the clit, elicited a hum, a bitten lip. Several wet seconds later, a groan. Jackie's face tipped upwards. Her thighs twitched. Droplets hit her screwed-up eyelids, her open mouth.The water stopped abruptly. Jackie jerked upright. "Motherfucker," she said, a cry fading into a mumble. She leaned through the steam, slightly pigeontoed, red the touch panel. It said, "Time until next Shower Ration: 18 hours." Jackie rubbed her temples, groaned resignedly. The cold of the station was already seeping into the shower. Quickly, she dried, performed her remaining ablutions, threw on the insulated red jumpsuit over still-aching nipples.Jackie emerged to find Sam in the life-support bay. He was shirtless, jumpsuit rolled at the waste, supine beneath a large conduit emitting steam. Droplets rolled over his long fingers and corded forearms, dripped and slid over an expanse of blond-furred chest. Veins stood out in his neck and arms, swollen from the effort of having just slotted a hefty filter into place. As Jackie approached, he turned."Jackie," he said, emerging carefully from under the conduit. He panted gently, lips parted just a tad. They were pink, creased. Human. "How are we?""I'm fine, thanks," said Jackie, forcibly pulling her eyes to his. She looked for a moment longer, watched a vein pulse on his temple. "If you don't mind me saying, you're damn realistic, aren't you?""I am, on the exterior, functionally and visually indistinguishable from a human man.""Yup," said Jackie, moving to leave."Jackie?"She turned back a moment. "Yes?""Is the station too cold for your comfort?" His eyes brows, cream and near-invisible, were arched in concern.Jackie squinted, raised an eyebrow. "No. It's fine.""Good. And, do make sure to have the appropriate post-stasis ration packs. I have concerns your flight here has left you low on muscle mass."Jackie turned away. "Yeah."She opened the hatch to her quarters, shut it with a huff. One protein pack later, she had stripped off her jumpsuit, dead asleep.Hours later, Jackie woke to a crimson nebulaic glow. She floated, bleary, in the microgravity webbing. The vibrating hum of the spin-rotors had died. Now, there was merely silence. Dully, Jackie moved to turn over under the webbing. As her thighs shifted, she felt a tingling wetness from some dream she couldn't remember. Idly, half asleep, she let a fingertip creep down her belly, trace over the soaked groin of her shorts, begin to prod, massage. She hummed, rubbed her cheek into the netting.Nearby, a hatch creaked open. Jackie jerked awake, hang back her hand, froze."Ready to get to work, Specialist Jackie?"Jackie groaned. "Yup," she said. Sam nodded, smiled, retreated into the comms room. The hatch clacked shut.Only after clambering out of the sleep webbing did Jackie realize her floating tits had been in full view. The Corporation had some odd opinions about bras in space. Jackie shook her head. "Chill, girl. Robot doesn't care."The proceeding five hours were a floating blur. Jackie stood in the comms room, directed ship after ship in non-collision courses around the nebula. The job was a steep and constant series of calls and responses to incoming and waiting craft. Sam assisted."Astroliner 313, after well veer, climb straight ahead five degrees Kepler. Thank you.""Jackie, we have a Corsican military craft requesting expedited access," said Sam."Tell him to follow the greens and stand by for expedite.""EES Pearl River is expressing a complaint.""Send them the docs. They can deal with the Company." She changed channels. "Yes, Arrowtine Sirius, you have permission to take route bravo in five. Thank you.""Jackie, I'm directing Designate 476 to hold. Their cargo requires maximum berth.""Thanks, Sam."Sam smiled thinly at her. He had started doing that more often. His eyes stayed crinkled kindly, when he did. Jackie kept watching him.Abruptly, Sam frowned. "Jackie, we have an error.""What?""New connections are timing out. We have a receiver down from d
Jackie's lonely deep-space post enjoys delicious company.Based on a post by Alizzia. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.Jackie awoke to a twinkling, navy-blue night. She lay still, perceived the idle murmer of gulls and surf, the sweet air, the soft and runny sand against her back. With every little rush of the surf, a liquid touch caressed her. Startlingly chill. Goosebumps prickled her naked form. She pulled a long, resuscitating breath, sat up.She nearly gasped. Out on the surf, submerged to the dimpled saddle of his hips, stood a bare and strapping figure. Head tipped to the moon, he raised and clasped corded hands, stretched. He twisted, hummed as he arched the broad, inverted triangle of his lats. Yawning luxuriantly, he turned, dropped his arms, smiled at Jackie.Jackie's pulse fluttered. She returned the crinkled hazel eyes' smile. The figure blushed a hint, turned a bashful eye to the sea. He approached. Surf split and foamed about his hips, thighs, knees, ankles. All softly corded, olive, and bare.He stopped inches from Jackie's toes, let his gaze drag over her, slow. She blushed in return, twisted a little, pulled and bent her knees to touch. Responding, his eyes flicked to her face, stopped there. Though not a turn of betrayed sentiment showed on his lips, a soft bundle of creases remained at the corners of his eyes, somehow more intense. He lingered on her mouth, nose, eyes, canted his head just a hint. A hoarse, longing sigh rose from his chest.Some melted excitement splashed into Jackie's chest and belly. Returning the gaze in full measure, she straightened her legs, arms, lay back on the sand. She raised a challenging brow.Slow, the figure knelt, touched one knee to the beach, then the other. He straddled just one of Jackie's legs, bent, placed heavy hands beside her head. Jackie could hear the wet sand squish under his weight. He bent ever so close, stopped, just breathed. Not a slip of skin touched between them. Droplets fell from his locks and long nose, fell just inches before rolling down Jackie's cheeks. He smelt of salt and earth.Jackie's lips parted involuntarily, asymmetrically. Never breaking her gaze, she stretched, wriggled just a bit, tilted her groin and chin. She heard the figure's pupils dilate, heard his shuddering breath, sensed his heavy arousal. A small smile of glee split her face. She squirmed in the sand beneath him, like a sea star, free beneath his hanging weight. Then, suddenly deadly serious, she stopped. With dearest care, she shifted just a little, pulled the inside of a smooth thigh to meet his knee. The figure shuddered, shut his eyes. Jackie struck, pushed her lips into his. For a moment, she could taste the warmth, the salt. Then, the world spun.The figure disappeared. The stars went out. The black sky fell away. Jackie awoke to a riveted, titanium ceiling studded with white lights. She flailed momently, gasping wetly. Tubes hung before her face, wet with the spit of her own trachea. Pressure lifted from her wrists, ankles, and abdomen. She began to float from the padded pod where she lay.Jackie's clumsy fingers found rails on either edge of the pod. She held herself within, panted. She swallowed dryly, blinked, surveyed the pod, her white sleep shorts and top, the room about her. After a moment, she groaned in recognition and disappointment. Any arousal she'd experienced had flown with her dream, left her with naught but a sodden crotch in a chilly room."Good morning, Specialist Jaqueline Kent," said a voice, at once sonorous and very dull.Jackie tried to sit up and look over the side of the bed. The inertia of the action strained her fingers. Her hands split from the rail. She floated from the bed, frowned.Across the room was a crop-haired man in red. His cotton jumpsuit strained where it failed to accommodate his chest and back. He had cold, blue eyes and a pointed nose. He held onto a support rail, feet firmly affixed to the vaguely-concave floor in magnet boots."Who the fu..." coughed Jackie, barely audible. She rasped. "The fuck are you?" She inadvertently turned upside down in the microgravity, crossed her arms over her floating tits."My pardon, Specialist Kent. My designation is Sam.""You're..." said Jackie, trying to find a more dignified stance. She failed, ended up sort of weakly kicking off the side wall. She made a face as she clipped the stasis pod, wheeled into Sam. Her face collided with his broad chest. He caught her there. For a moment, Jackie's cheek and nose pressed into him. He was firm, but soft. He smelled of soap and salt."You're a service unit, an organic android?" she said, frowning, as Sam pulled her away from him."Indeed.""Why isn't this place being spun for gravity?" raged Jackie, shuffling from his grasp. Strong fingers released from her upper arms."The habitat is spun for only eight hours of the 24-hour cycle, per regulated health minimums. Generator and battery capacity are prioritized for the lighthouse array, rather than gravity rotors. The next spin commences tonight, in several minutes," said Sam, smiling thinly. "For now, please accept these mag boots.""Fine," said Jackie, cold. She bumped against the wall, struggled to pull a boot on. The other floated away. She made a face, huffed, weak from stasis sleep. "Please, allow me," said Sam. For just a moment, Jackie twisted her face as if to protest, but relented. She moved close, allowed the android to wrap an arm around each of her calves in turn, slip a boot over the foot, and strap it tight. For a moment, she relaxed, felt the long hands wrap near-entirely round her bare ankles. They were firm, but not rough. Sam moved away. "There."Jackie tentatively pushed away, set a foot to the floor, felt it stick. "Thanks," she said, quietly."Allow me to show you around the lighthouse. Afterwards, you may recuperate. It will only take a moment. The station is not large, and I understand by your Company service record that you have served in this role before.""There wasn't an android on my last lighthouse. I do this job because I like the solitude."Sam looked genuinely regretful. "I am sorry. You must understand I was attached to this station by the company. I am their property.""Yeah, yeah," said Jackie, seeing his face. A spike of empathy broke through her grumpiness. "You don't seem like bad company, anyway. What model are you?" she said, as Sam opened the hatch for them to exit."I am a Serault Corporation Ceres-6," he said, stepping through. Jackie followed. The concave floor of the room beyond was double-walled transparent alloy. It acted as a gigantic window out onto the red and purple nebula which the lighthouse was meant to warn of. Along the walls, set so one might look down into the nebula, were leather benches, a few pod chairs, and a bed with microgravity webbing, all somewhat worn. Crimson light played over the white upholstery and sheets.Jackie looked over the living quarters, far nicer than she'd had before. She gaped at the nebula for a moment, watched a streak of magenta light cross Sam's eyes and face. "So, you're one of those white-blooded ones?""My internal serum is a sucrose base. It serves modified roles in all my body fluids. It is indeed an off-white.""Sucrose? A real sweetie, huh?""If indeed it were to be tasted, my serum would taste of sugar." He looked her in the eyes, terribly sincere.Jackie looked away, grinned uncomfortably. "Right. Have any other special features?" she said, sarcastic."As Ceres-6 models are designed for small crew missions, our personality precepts are mutable. We change in reaction or in request to facilitate maximum compatibility.""Ah, well. Good to know." Jackie looked about awkwardly, arms crossed. "I take it this is my room?""Indeed, this is the lighthouse keeper's room," he blinked at her, slow."And where do you sleep?""Though I do not often enter my hibernation cycle, I have a pod in the crew maintenance room we just exited."Jackie suddenly uncrossed her arms, waved one about. "Listen, do you need to stare me straight in the eyeballs all the time? It's freaking me out.""Would you prefer I focus on a different portion of your body?" said Sam. He concernedly looked at her left foot."Like, shit. No. Just let your eyes wander like a normal person, okay?""Understood," said Sam. He glanced at her eyes, then about the room, then down into the floor-window."A little less wildly, maybe.""Yes, Specialist Kent." His eyes flitted over Jackie, focused momently on the nipples poking through her airy sleep top. Jackie crossed her arms, blushed. "And call me Jackie, not Specialist Kent.""Understood, Jackie.""And smile a bit more.""Of course," he said, doing so. Jackie shivered, not from the chill air. The lines which pulled about the android's eyes and nose bridge turned the cold face quite warm. It stayed that way."Well," said Jackie, hesitating. "We're getting on better already," she said, only half as sarcastic as she meant. "Can we continue the tour? I could use a shower.""Of course." He continued to a hatch on the other side of the room. Jackie stepped through as well. They entered a circular room with a ladder in the center. The walls were ringed with computer panels and other hatches."This is the primary communication room. Here, you-""Sam, I know how to use the comms.""My apologies," he said. "This hatch leads to the EVA room. This one to the galley. This one to life support. The ladder leads up to the secondary systems and down to engineering.""I take it life support has the shower?""Indeed.""Great. Anything else?""No. We commence operation tomorrow morning, approximately an hour after the eight-hour spin." He broke off for a moment, canted his head. His eyes trailed over Jackie's bare abdomen, likely by chance. She squirmed, regardless. Sam raised his eyebrows, continued. "The spin, which I believe should commence now."There was a jerk, a hollow whine in the hull of the station, a rush in Jackie's ears. Jackie and Sam slowly settled under the centrifugal forces. Jackie adjusted her shorts, surreptitiously. "I'm going to shower.""There are requisite uniforms and undergarments waiting for you.""Gee, thanks for laying out my underwear.""Of course, Jackie."Jackie shook her head, kicked off the mag boots, stomped to the life support bay. She shut the hatch with a good deal of force. The bathroom was behind a secondary hatch, near the spare air purification tanks and the waterless laundry engine. It was stark, shiny white, floored with nobly grip tiles. There were indeed clothes laid out for her: A red jumpsuit and white boyshorts. Jackie passed them just a glance before dropping her shorts and top. Naked, she passed the small mirror, sneered at her baggy eyes, her body, depilated for stasis sleep.She stepped into the shower. A touch panel reading "Shower Ration: 2 Minutes," met her."Same old station-life," she groaned, punched the Start key.A vertical shower hit from above. Mist quickly filled the room. Jackie moaned for the heat, turned her head and chest to face the stream. Little rivulets poured from her nose, chin, nipples. At these she looked askance, gently surprised. She cupped, rubbed one between thumb and forefinger experimentally, sighed a little. She repeated this with both, sighed a lot. Doing so, suddenly quite determined, she stepped back and leaned back, pressed her rump against the white wall. One hand, the right one, slipped between her hairless legs, which she widened just sufficiently. They wobbled a bit, weak from stasis. She leaned harder against the wall, slipped a middle finger over and through her dripping vulva, split the lips, found it dripping inside, too. The left hand joined, found the clit, elicited a hum, a bitten lip. Several wet seconds later, a groan. Jackie's face tipped upwards. Her thighs twitched. Droplets hit her screwed-up eyelids, her open mouth.The water stopped abruptly. Jackie jerked upright. "Motherfucker," she said, a cry fading into a mumble. She leaned through the steam, slightly pigeontoed, red the touch panel. It said, "Time until next Shower Ration: 18 hours." Jackie rubbed her temples, groaned resignedly. The cold of the station was already seeping into the shower. Quickly, she dried, performed her remaining ablutions, threw on the insulated red jumpsuit over still-aching nipples.Jackie emerged to find Sam in the life-support bay. He was shirtless, jumpsuit rolled at the waste, supine beneath a large conduit emitting steam. Droplets rolled over his long fingers and corded forearms, dripped and slid over an expanse of blond-furred chest. Veins stood out in his neck and arms, swollen from the effort of having just slotted a hefty filter into place. As Jackie approached, he turned."Jackie," he said, emerging carefully from under the conduit. He panted gently, lips parted just a tad. They were pink, creased. Human. "How are we?""I'm fine, thanks," said Jackie, forcibly pulling her eyes to his. She looked for a moment longer, watched a vein pulse on his temple. "If you don't mind me saying, you're damn realistic, aren't you?""I am, on the exterior, functionally and visually indistinguishable from a human man.""Yup," said Jackie, moving to leave."Jackie?"She turned back a moment. "Yes?""Is the station too cold for your comfort?" His eyes brows, cream and near-invisible, were arched in concern.Jackie squinted, raised an eyebrow. "No. It's fine.""Good. And, do make sure to have the appropriate post-stasis ration packs. I have concerns your flight here has left you low on muscle mass."Jackie turned away. "Yeah."She opened the hatch to her quarters, shut it with a huff. One protein pack later, she had stripped off her jumpsuit, dead asleep.Hours later, Jackie woke to a crimson nebulaic glow. She floated, bleary, in the microgravity webbing. The vibrating hum of the spin-rotors had died. Now, there was merely silence. Dully, Jackie moved to turn over under the webbing. As her thighs shifted, she felt a tingling wetness from some dream she couldn't remember. Idly, half asleep, she let a fingertip creep down her belly, trace over the soaked groin of her shorts, begin to prod, massage. She hummed, rubbed her cheek into the netting.Nearby, a hatch creaked open. Jackie jerked awake, hang back her hand, froze."Ready to get to work, Specialist Jackie?"Jackie groaned. "Yup," she said. Sam nodded, smiled, retreated into the comms room. The hatch clacked shut.Only after clambering out of the sleep webbing did Jackie realize her floating tits had been in full view. The Corporation had some odd opinions about bras in space. Jackie shook her head. "Chill, girl. Robot doesn't care."The proceeding five hours were a floating blur. Jackie stood in the comms room, directed ship after ship in non-collision courses around the nebula. The job was a steep and constant series of calls and responses to incoming and waiting craft. Sam assisted."Astroliner 313, after well veer, climb straight ahead five degrees Kepler. Thank you.""Jackie, we have a Corsican military craft requesting expedited access," said Sam."Tell him to follow the greens and stand by for expedite.""EES Pearl River is expressing a complaint.""Send them the docs. They can deal with the Company." She changed channels. "Yes, Arrowtine Sirius, you have permission to take route bravo in five. Thank you.""Jackie, I'm directing Designate 476 to hold. Their cargo requires maximum berth.""Thanks, Sam."Sam smiled thinly at her. He had started doing that more often. His eyes stayed crinkled kindly, when he did. Jackie kept watching him.Abruptly, Sam frowned. "Jackie, we have an error.""What?""New connections are timing out. We have a receiver down from d
I'm tired of all the nonstop talk about Shedeur Sanders and Cam Ward like they've already won something! Football isn't played on social media, in hype videos, or through analysts' opinions—it's played ON THE FIELD. Every year, we hear the same stories about “elite” QBs, only for reality to hit when the pads come on. This video breaks down why all the hype means NOTHING until these guys prove it where it actually counts. Are they legit, or just another offseason talking point? Let's talk about it. Drop your thoughts in the comments! Are we overhyping these QBs, or will they back it up this season?
President Donald Trump imposes new tariffs on Canada, Mexico and China. And Trump puts American military aid to Ukraine on hold as he questions whether Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy wants peace.
President Donald Trump imposes new tariffs on Canada, Mexico and China. And Trump puts American military aid to Ukraine on hold as he questions whether Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy wants peace.
Trump and Republicans rapidly abandon their own base with an agenda that is engineered to lose them support. Brian interviews Pod Save America's Tommy Vietor to discuss the immediate implications of Trump abandoning Ukraine and the broader implications of the US realigning to global world order; Texas state representative James Talarico about the rise of Christian nationalism and how we reverse the tide; and the ranking Democrat on the House Budget Committee, Brendan Boyle, about Republican's budget proposal and what it'll mean for working class Americans.Shop merch: https://briantylercohen.com/shopYouTube: https://www.youtube.com/user/briantylercohenTwitter: https://twitter.com/briantylercohenFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/briantylercohenInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/briantylercohenPatreon: https://www.patreon.com/briantylercohenNewsletter: https://www.briantylercohen.com/sign-upWritten by Brian Tyler CohenProduced by Sam GraberRecorded in Los Angeles, CASee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
March 2, 2025 Daily Devotion from Lutheran Hour Ministries
Are you passionate about football and eager to break down the Xs and Os like a pro? Film Session Saturday is your go-to destination for in-depth analysis, strategic breakdowns, and expert insights into the game you love. @FilmSessionSaturday Why Subscribe?✅ Deep-Dive Film Analysis– Learn how plays develop, where opportunities arise, and what makes great strategies work. ✅ Tactical Breakdowns – Get expert insights into offensive and defensive schemes, play execution, and game-changing decisions. ✅ Engaging & Educational Content– Whether you're a casual fan or an aspiring analyst, our videos will elevate your understanding of the game. ✅ Weekly Uploads– Stay ahead of the game with fresh content designed to sharpen your knowledge and enhance your appreciation for sports.
Ben and Phil are back to recap Andor season 1, episodes 8-10. Why is this Bob's favorite Star Wars movie since the LAST three episodes of Andor? Do Ben and Phil think he's crazy, or are they on board? Tune in to find out!
Valentine's Day can be tough when you're single or in a relationship that leaves you feeling empty. While the world tells us love is about romance, gifts, and grand gestures, the truth is that no human love can fully satisfy our hearts. But there is a love that never fails—God's love. If you're feeling lonely, overlooked, or stuck in a relationship that doesn't bring you peace, I want to remind you that God sees you, loves you, and has a plan for your life far greater than you can imagine. He is the One who will be there for you not just today, but tomorrow and every day to come. Instead of chasing validation from people who may not be able to love you the way you deserve, why not use this day to draw closer to the One who loves you perfectly? His love is patient, kind, and unwavering—it's the love you were created for. No matter where you are this Valentine's Day, remember: You are deeply loved, and you are never alone. **Subscribe for more encouragement & share this with someone who needs to hear it today!** #GodsLove #ValentinesDay #Faith #Encouragement #ChristianMotivation
Send us a textWHAT WERE THOSE MARCHES REALLY ABOUT? GOD GIVE US JUSTICE! PART 1I know that our Father is hearing the cries of those in this nation who want fairness, impartiality as well as diversity, equity and inclusion. Yes, we want DEI! We want all work places to be diverse, we want equality in the work forces as well as knowing that all races and genders are being included fairly in the policies, opportunities and decisions being made by all corporations, businesses and government in this nation as well as our states. Swiftly and without mercy the enemy is trying to rob all minorities of their rights. But as the Psalmist wrote in the 121st Division of Psalms verses 3-4; He will not let your foot slip— he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. Let me say here and now that our God does not sleep and He does not slumber. Without a doubt, He sees all of the injustices that are occurring in this nation right now. To hear more of what our Father is speaking to us this week click on the buzzsprout.com link or go to your favorite podcast app and search for This Is the Voice of the Prophet. Then click on the episode entitled WHAT WERE THOSE MARCHES REALLY ABOUT? GOD GIVE US JUSTICE! PART 1Support the show
We've all been there—stuck in a work environment with someone we just don't get along with. Instead of running to your boss with complaints, what if you could turn the situation around? In this video, I'll share practical strategies to navigate workplace conflicts, find mutually beneficial solutions, and improve teamwork without unnecessary drama. You'll learn: ✅ How to identify the root of the conflict ✅ Productive ways to communicate and collaborate ✅ Practical solutions that benefit both parties ✅ When to escalate vs. when to work things out on your own By shifting your mindset from frustration to problem-solving, you'll not only improve your work experience but also gain valuable leadership skills. Drop a comment below—have you ever worked with someone you didn't like? How did you handle it? Let's talk! #WorkplaceTips #ConflictResolution #ProfessionalGrowth
Look around and watch as the savings grow: President Donald Trump's new administration is taking it seriously to save the U.S. taxpayer from waste and corruption. There's a cut coming to USAID. There are billions of dollars in cuts coming by way of Elon Musk's DOGE. There are cuts coming by way of the pause in federal grant funding. And it's all good for citizens who want a government of transparency and accountability. Bill Walton, whose widely skilled background hails from the worlds of business and finance and media and even movie-making -- he says Trump has come in and issued a sort of "shock and awe" type of agenda. It won't be long before citizens start feeling the financial boom that's on its way.
MSNBC has officially canceled “The ReidOut,” marking the end of Joy Reid's primetime platform. Given her history of divisive rhetoric and relentless attacks on Trump and his supporters, many are calling this a long-overdue move. But the fight isn't over—shows like *The View* continue to push the same biased narrative, attacking conservatives daily. Could this be the beginning of a much-needed shift in mainstream media? Let's break it all down and discuss what this means for the future of political commentary on national television.
My heart goes out to all the victims and families affected by the tragic plane crash in Washington, D.C. This is truly heartbreaking, and I want to take a moment to express my deepest condolences to those who have lost loved ones. In times like these, it's important to come together in prayer and support for those who are grieving. My thoughts are with the victims, their families, and everyone impacted by this tragedy. May they find strength and comfort in the midst of this difficult time. If you'd like to share your prayers or messages of support, feel free to do so in the comments. Let's uplift one another and keep these families in our hearts. #PrayersForDC #Condolences #StayStrong
You know we love to talk about toileting habits on our pod, right? Well, Vicky indulges in the gross toileting arrangements in Ancient Rome, which quite literally requires a sh!tty stick! Swiftly moving onto the weirdest sandwich combinations you can imagine...only we'd go from poop to sandwiches, but we know you love it!Chapters:00:00 Welcome to the Padded Cell Podcast01:16 Music Trivia03:35 National Storytelling Week07:06 Ancient Roman Toilets20:28 Weird Sandwich Fillings22:33 The Origin of the Sandwich24:30 Unusual Sandwich Combinations32:10 Gregg's Bakery Stories33:41 Top Kinks Survey Results37:29 Closing Remarks▶︎ Support us on Patreon for bonus content: https://www.patreon.com/ThePaddedCellPodcast▶︎ www.thepaddedcellpodcast.co.uk▶︎ www.thepaddedcellpodcast.store Watch the podcast on YouTube:▶︎ YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/@ThePaddedCellPodcastFollow The Padded Cell for more:▶︎ Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61551425184285▶︎ Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/thepaddedcell_podcast/?hl=en-gb▶︎ TikTok - https://www.tiktok.com/@thepaddedcellpodcastRecorded and Produced by Liverpool Podcast Studios▶︎ Web - http://www.liverpoolpodcaststudios.com▶︎ Instagram - http://www.instagram.com/liverpoolpodcaststudios▶︎ LinkedIn - http://www.linkedin.com/company/liverpool-podcast-studios
Alright, I've had enough of this nonsense. I just read Mel Kiper's latest mock draft (linked below), and while I *do* respect Mel's hustle as a Maryland guy and what he's built for himself as the godfather of draft analysis, this madness has to STOP. Mock drafts are destroying the sport we love. Instead of players making college decisions based on *what's actually important*—like their education, personal development, or the right system for their growth—they're getting distracted by meaningless draft projections. These projections are turning recruiting and college football into a circus, feeding this narrative that everything has to revolve around the NFL pipeline. And let's not forget, the NFL doesn't even have a solid feeder system! So why are we putting all this attention on predictions that don't even hold water half the time? It's all about hype and headlines, and it's creating distractions for players, fans, and even coaches. Enough is enough. If you're tired of seeing football turned into a nonstop media frenzy with no regard for the integrity of the game, you're gonna want to watch this. Let's talk about how we can put an end to this mock draft obsession.
Send us a textOn this episode of the CSZ Podcast, coming to you live from the Rally House Studios, Jeremy is joined in studio by Joey, Sam, & Shawn to discuss Cardinal Athletics!On this episode, the guys recap Louisville's blow out win against Syracuse, talk about this years season so far, WBB update from Sam, Rapid Fire, Shawn's BIG fumble and much, much more! There's also our usual shenanigansFollow us on Twitter:@Jeremy_CSZ@lvilleshawn@baseboy124@DPence_@joewahman526@WesB_42@WesKeyes_CSZ@IamthehiggyFollow our sponsors on Twitter:@RallyHouse@FitnessMarketKY@course_crew@FourPegsBeer@MossyOak@Shoot360Lou@CherryPickinGds#PlanetFitnessSupport the show
Send us a textE45 Long Neglect Has Worn Away by Emily Bronte Description: An immersive reading of Long Neglect Has Worn Away by Emily Bronte with reflection on transience and permeance, tuberculosis and facial maladies. Website:https://anauscultation.wordpress.comWork:[Long Neglect Has Worn Away] by Emily BronteLong neglect has worn awayHalf the sweet enchanting smile;Time has turned the bloom to gray;Mold and damp the face defile.But that lock of silky hair,Still beneath the picture twined,Tells what once those features were,Paints their image on the mind.Fair the hand that traced that line,“Dearest, ever deem me true”;Swiftly flew the fingers fineWhen the pen that motto drew.References:Emily Bronte: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/emily-bronte Bansal R, Jain A, Mittal S. Orofacial tuberculosis: Clinical manifestations, diagnosis and management. J Family Med Prim Care. 2015 Jul-Sep;4(3):335-41.Quaranta N, Petrone P, Michailidou A, Miragliotta L, Santantonio M, Del Prete R, Mosca A, Miragliotta G. Tuberculous otitis media with facial paralysis: a clinical and microbiological diagnosis-a case report. Case Rep Infect Dis. 2011;2011:932608.
Send us a textI am probably not the only one feeling a little disoriented and uncertain about what the upcoming year will hold. While it is great to have plans and dreams, these are not always possible and sometimes, I think, not even desirable. There are times for wisdom to be silent and for the 'undreaming' to occur before we can begin to discover new music and new dances. Journal entry:1st January, Wednesday“A dawn of tobacco and salmon And racing clouds.A solitary raven rows Swiftly against the current of the day.Hacking cough and aching limbs There is more than one way to enter a new year.”Episode Information:In this episode I give a short update to why there was no Christmas episode this year and we welcome in 2025. With special thanks to our lock-wheelersfor supporting this podcast.Fleur and David Mcloughlin Lois Raphael Sami Walbury Tania Yorgey Andrea Hansen Chris Hinds David Dirom Chris and Alan on NB Land of Green Ginger Captain Arlo Rebecca Russell Allison on the narrowboat Mukka Derek and Pauline Watts Anna V. Orange Cookie Mary Keane. Tony Rutherford. Arabella Holzapfel. Rory with MJ and Kayla. Narrowboat Precious Jet. Linda Reynolds Burkins. Richard Noble. Carol Ferguson. Tracie Thomas Mark and Tricia Stowe Madeleine SmithGeneral DetailsIn the intro and the outro, Saint-Saen's The Swan is performed by Karr and Bernstein (1961) and available on CC at archive.org. Two-stroke narrowboat engine recorded by 'James2nd' on the River Weaver, Cheshire. Uploaded to Freesound.org on 23rd June 2018. Creative Commons Licence. Piano and keyboard interludes composed and performed by Helen Ingram.All other audio recorded on site. Support the showBecome a 'Lock-Wheeler'Would you like to support this podcast by becoming a 'lock-wheeler' for Nighttime on Still Waters? Find out more: 'Lock-wheeling' for Nighttime on Still Waters.Contact Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/noswpod Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/nighttimeonstillwaters/ Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/noswpod.bsky.social Mastodon: https://mastodon.world/@nosw I would love to hear from you. You can email me at nighttimeonstillwaters@gmail.com or drop me a line by going to the nowspod website and using either the contact form or, if you prefer, record your message by clicking on the microphone icon. For more information about Nighttime on Still Waters You can find more information and photographs about the podcasts and life aboard the Erica on our website at noswpod.com.
“Juicy action in the future” The panel of peril do what no other man has done before them and hoverboard over a small body of water, thereby proving themselves Best At Hoverboarding. To celebrate, they watch a film which fails to portray such a successful act, Back To The Future Part II (Robert Zemeckis, 1989) with this week's guest Darin Lundberg of NostalgiaCast. Happy Christmas! Marty McFly (Michael J. Fox) has been dragged back to the far flung future of 2015 by wild-haired oldster Doc Brown (Christopher Lloyd) to unintentionally cause chaos in the past! Whilst trying to prevent his own teenage son from making a bad deal, old enemy Biff Tannen (Tom Wilson) scarpers back to 1955 with a certain book that will make life misery for the McFlys. Watch the trailer here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MdENmefJRpw ********PLOT SPOILER ALERT******** That's right, old man Biff has taken a Sports Alamanac, with 50 years of big-time sports results, and given it to young Biff back in the 50s. Swiftly accruing a fortune from successful wagers, Biff dominates Hill Valley with his lurid casino and band of ne'er-do-wells destroying both the town and the lives of the McFly family. Can this chaos be unravelled and the timeline restored? Did the panel enjoy this week's televisual/cinematic serving? Could they find a way to improve the Biff's villainous plan? And who will be named this week's most diabolical (person/podcast((er)))? See you sometime in 2025, Peril Pals! https://bsky.app/profile/diabolicalpod.bsky.social https://twitter.com/diabolicalpod https://www.instagram.com/diabolicalpod/ https://www.facebook.com/diabolicalpod Email diabolicalpod@gmail.com
Dylan Jahraus, a seasoned e-commerce entrepreneur with 10+ years of experience, has transformed from corporate e-commerce into scaling e-commerce entrepreneurs. Her e-commerce acumen fueled an Etsy venture, propelling her shop to over $1M profit within 6.5 years. Expanding to Amazon and Shopify followed with a supportive team in tow. In 2022, the visionary Dylan Jahraus launched the Multi-Six Figure Etsy Blueprint, gaining fervor even pre-launch. Swiftly, the program enrolled 3000+ students. Anchored in authentic e-commerce strategies, this program delivers tangible results. Organic traction, driven by student achievements of $10M+ revenue, fostered a vibrant community of 85,000+ YouTube subscribers and a top Etsy podcast, "Etsy Seller Success with Dylan Jahraus," with 450,000+ downloads. Beyond entrepreneurship, Dylan epitomizes commitment and resilience as a devoted wife and mother. This dedication and integrity permeate her business ethos, defining the steadfast team that she's nurtured. More of Dylan: Website: https://dylanjahraus.com/ YouTube: @dylanjahraus Facebook: @dylanjahrausofficial Instagram: @dylanjahraus
Welcome to episode 227 of the Women's Running podcast. I'm your host Esther Newman and she's your other host Holly Taylor. On this podcast we talk about health, politics, stuff on TV and what we ate last night. Occasionally, we talk about running.This episode is sponsored by Coopah, the running app. Use the code WOMENSRUNNING when you sign up for 2 free weeks and a further 20% off for a whole year.Christmas partyAt time of recording, it's the day after our Christmas party, so we complete all this chat about booze and running with some hungover run chat. Swiftly followed by whether or not runners should wear gilets (discuss). All of this before we start talking about how our training is going.And then we're on to our absolute dream Christmas dinner, from aperitif to pudding. Yes, this isn't to do with running, but when have we ever said that we only talk about running? Never. Don't listen hungry. We finish by launching into part 1 of a two-part Christmas Quiz. The rest will be in our boxing day podcast, and we can't wait!Subscribe NOW!Just a quick little nudge to pick up the magazine before Christmas – use the code PODCASTXMAS for our best offer of the year, which will save you 56%! So that's just 15.99 for 6 issues. Head to womensrunning.co.uk/shop and enter the code PODCASTXMAS to get this fab offer. Just in time for Christmas too….!Lovely extra bitsThis episode is sponsored by Coopah. Coopah are offering all pod squadders a 2-week free trial of their app and then giving 20% off their standard annual subscription price. Just download the Coopah app and use the code WOMENSRUNNING when you sign up. Or visit coopah.com/womensrunning where you can find all of these details.· Subscribe to Women's Running – and you'll get a year's worth of Coopah for FREE!Setting up your own podcast? Try Zencastr – we've been using it for ages and LOVE ITCheck out the races on offer from Trail EscapeDownload a FREE mini mag to help you run 5K! Go to womensrunning.co.uk/runBuy a Pod Squad t-shirt!Do join us on Patreon so you can come and chat in our new Pod Squad community on Discord! Go to patreon.co.uk/womensrunningEmail us at wrpodcast@anthem.co.uk with any questions or running stories Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
The Manor In The Woods By FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The landscape was almost entirely white now and dusk was starting to descend with surprising haste. As they walked, Emily observed how their route was bordered by thick, low hedges, laden with frosted, blood-red hawthorn berries and holly leaves; one of the few plants that remained green, within a mass of death and decay which mid-winter always conveyed. Continuing along the path, they soon found themselves submerged in a dark, dense coniferous forest. It was deathly quiet here, the evergreen trees packed so tightly that only the lightest sprinkling of dusty snow had so far been able to penetrate the shadowy depths. And yet the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Emily felt a momentary waver in the high levels of confidence she'd shown, by accompanying Sam. She quietly questioned whether her normally good instincts were continuing to serve her well. ‘Still cold?' Sam asked, picking up a little on her apprehension. Unable to voice any words, she simply nodded in response. 'I always find singing warms me up. If you'll join me?' he requested. 'Sure,' she croaked, surprised at his suggestion. Causing a sudden jolt of pleasure to travel up her spine, Sam began to sing in a soft, clear voice, filling Emily's imagination with the aroma of chestnuts roasting over a gently crackling, open fire. How was it possible that this man was making her feel an excitement for Christmas that she had barely felt since childhood? And certainly not in the past few years. Immediately recalling the lyrics, as though they were pre-programmed into her very being, she shyly joined in with him. Although hesitant at first, the two of them quickly relaxed. They rattled off all manner of Christmas songs from 'White Christmas' and 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' through to 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus'. The tunes were often accompanied by much guffawing, when they started to make up their own lyrics in the absence of knowing the correct ones, as well as adding in all manner of questionable vocal percussion. Consequently, it felt like no time at all before they were passing out of the thick canopy of trees and back into the white, snowy wilderness. Their singing naturally petered out as they trudged around the edge of a huge field which provided a much less intimate setting for vocal melodies, or lack thereof. Indeed, it would have been drowned out by the unmistakable noise of squawking pheasants and distant shotguns filling the air. Skirting beside a river, the looming silhouettes of Giant Hogweed could be seen rising out of the mist, before they turned a sharp corner to follow an alternative footpath which led them directly into a churchyard. Too tired now to be spooked by the lopsided gravestones rising creepily out of the mist, Emily simply kept her head down and focused on Sam's boots, which marched just ahead of her along the narrow path. It was all but dark by the time they wearily emerged into the main body of the village. Emily noticed that parts of the main road through the village had been cleared by helpful residents. However, as the temperatures began to plummet once more, sheet ice had formed on the exposed sections, making it more dangerous than ever. Therefore, instead of slipping and sliding her way along the icy road, Emily tucked in behind Sam and followed the channel that his footsteps had made through the deep snow. It was a route which required more strenuous effort but, on the positive side, was less likely to see her fall arse over tit, and make a complete fool of herself. As they fought their way onwards, Emily found her attention drawn to a huge, eighteenth century manor house, complete with lead-latticed windows and two smoking chimneys at either end of a long, bowing roof. Every light was blazing and a low pulse of music echoed from an open downstairs window. The place was a flurry of activity; the front door wide open, as caterers carrying various trays and boxes continuously made their way across the threshold. Whoever lived there clearly had no respect for the electricity or heating bills. 'Really well done. We've made it,' murmured Sam, sounding relieved. 'Here?' asked Emily, doing a double take. 'This is your Aunt's house?' 'Yeah,' confirmed Sam, gently dusting away the snow which had accumulated on her shoulders, before turning his attention towards his own. 'I was assuming she was a little old lady, living in a flat perhaps,' admitted Emily, her eyes wide with astonishment, as they made their way up the sweeping driveway. 'She'll love it, when she hears that,' laughed Sam, pulling off his gloves to reveal large, strong hands with clean, neatly-trimmed nails. Emily froze. In that instant, all of her attention was directed towards him, as those same hands began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face. At last, she would see what he looked like. 'Well, please don't mention it then,' she stuttered. 'What's it worth?' he teased, leaving Emily all but speechless. Was he flirting with her? 'Darlings!' cried a woman who appeared on the doorstep. 'You poor things! How awful! Come inside!' Emily stared at her in disbelief; in her sixties, the woman that greeted them was tall, slender, elegant and incredibly attractive. She was adorned with silk scarves, expensive jewellery and an expression of uninhibited delight, as though she knew a very great secret that she couldn't wait to share. 'Emily, this is my Aunt Rosamunde,' introduced Sam proudly. 'Aunt, this is Emily Jones.' 'Rose, to my friends,' she explained, putting her arm around Emily and drawing her into the warmth of her home. 'Of which you already are.' Emily found herself unsure of where to look. Part of her wanted to soak up the interior of the amazing house into which she was now being led, but equally, she was desperate to find out what lay beneath Sam's exterior layers of clothing. 'Oh, Sammie, Darling? Before you get too comfortable, ' Rose added, glancing backwards. Excruciatingly, her words made him pause in his partial state of undress, just as he was about to remove his hat and scarf. 'Please could you grab another wheelbarrow full of logs from the woodshed and put them in the boot room? I'm sure we'll run out otherwise.' 'Only on the condition that you look after Emily, while I'm gone,' he stated, before looking directly at Emily. 'If that's okay with you, of course?' he asked. She nodded shyly in response, touched that he'd bothered to ask. 'Of course I'm going to look after her!' the older lady exclaimed. 'Then, of course, I will get you some more logs, Auntie Rosie,' he teased, walking once again into the cold evening and pulling his gloves back on. 'Oh! Get away with you, you cheeky boy!' exclaimed Rose with a chuckle. 'He always calls me that whenever I accidentally revert back to his childhood nickname. He knows full well it makes me sound like I'm a hundred years old,' she explained, hanging up Emily's dripping coat and leading her through to the kitchen. Not unexpectedly, the kitchen was incredible; a huge room, with painted white walls, infilled with thick black beams and bordered by a selection of Welsh dressers and overflowing granite work surfaces. Against one wall stood an enormous navy blue Aga throwing out a serious amount of much-welcome heat. Meanwhile, the centre of the room was taken up with a scrubbed pine table and chairs which looked as though they had served the needs of several generations before. 'Now, let's get you defrosted. How about a nice warming drink?' asked Rose. 'That would be wonderful,' admitted a lightly shivering Emily, subtly making her way towards the Aga, to share some of its precious warmth. 'A coffee would be lovely if you have one.' Almost unnoticed, one of the catering ladies who was silently floating around the room, flicked a switch to set the coffee machine into action and laid out two coffee cups, cream and sugar on the table. Meanwhile, Rose had marched to the back of the room and was scrabbling around in a cupboard. 'Or how about something a bit stronger?' she asked, waving a bottle of Whiskey above her head, whilst wiggling her eyebrows in Emily's direction. 'You could have an Irish coffee, best of both worlds?' she suggested with a smile. Giggling, Emily shook her head. 'Just a coffee would be great, for now,' she added, receiving a nod of approval from her host. 'Of course, you're right,' agreed Rose, making her way back to the table and pouring out their coffees from the jug which had seamlessly been delivered. Emily accepted the welcome beverage, wrapping her frozen hands around the cup and gratefully inhaling the steam. 'We should definitely pace ourselves. My dear, late husband would have said just the same,' she confessed, smiling fondly. 'I'm sorry,' said Emily sadly, as she received confirmation that Rose was indeed a widow. 'Oh, my dear,' she said warmly, laying her dainty hand over one of Emily's and squeezing gently. 'I knew love in my lifetime. True love, the kind that inspires people to write songs and write books and do all manner of other glorious things. So I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.' 'How wonderful,' murmured Emily, sighing with deep contentment. 'Would you tell me about him?' And with great delight, Rose did just that. As she launched into the story of how they first met, Emily provided a completely rapt audience, wanting no more in that instant, than to hear their true love story. Sam returned a short while later, to find Emily and his aunt sitting cosily in the kitchen, holding hands, giggling outrageously and chatting ten to the dozen. Neither of them had noticed his arrival, so with great pleasure he simply stood and observed the two women, between which an indisputable spark of friendship had already been ignited. 'Darling!' Rose exclaimed with delight. With her concentration broken, Emily twisted around in her seat to be confronted by a sight that she knew was already being meticulously downloaded into her memory, to remain imprinted there for the rest of time. Quite simply, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, was leaning against the oak-framed doorway watching them. Utterly relaxed, with his arms folded, it was his wide smile, piercing dark eyes and perfectly messed up dark hair that immediately caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes dared to drop down and devour the rest of him. She processed every tiny detail, from his lithe body and strong forearms, right down to the thick navy blue socks he wore, stretched over his large feet. Unable to drag her eyes away, Emily's gaze tracked his progress as he loped across the room, to grab another mug from the cupboard. Although she caught only a fleeting glimpse, unbelievably his back view seemed comparable to the front. Gulping in disbelief, she looked across at Rose for support. Her host seemed unusually quiet; half smiling, half grimacing, apparently incapable of speech. Glancing down at the table, a horrified Emily realised she was tightly clenching Rose's hand. Too good-mannered to complain, relief flooded across the older lady's face when the firm grip was eventually relinquished. 'Sorry,' whispered Emily. Apologising had the added bonus of making her aware that, until that point, her mouth had been hanging open in utter shock. Swiftly rectifying her vacant look, Emily clamped her mouth tightly shut and tried to breathe as calmly as possible through her nose. There wasn't anything she could do about her flushed face, but with any luck, that could be blamed on the extremes of temperature she'd been subjected to over the past few hours. By this time, the man had joined them at the table and was pouring a steaming coffee into his own mug. Emily subconsciously licked her lips as his mouth wrapped around the cup and swallowed with contentment. The low groan he made, as that initial sip slid down his throat, caused a twinge to flutter across her tingling, already swollen pussy. This man was beyond gorgeous. Emily's mind was whirring, unable to believe he might actually be Sam. Surely this couldn't be the man she'd spent the last two hours joking and chatting with, whilst methodically annihilating Nat King Cole's back catalogue, could it? She would never have mildly flirted and nonchalantly shared a chocolate bar in the snow with a man who looked like, well, THAT. She shuffled slightly in her seat as a surge of blood pumped towards her abdomen. And then his familiar tone filled the room and her question remained unanswered no longer. God help her, it was definitely him. 'It looks like you two are destined to be great friends,' he observed wryly. Neither of the two women responded; Emily because she was speechless, Rose because she was delightedly watching Emily's reaction to the arrival of her favourite nephew. 'So, what's the big joke?' pressed Sam. 'You were laughing hysterically a moment ago and now there's nothing but silence. What's up?' Recognising the signs of Emily's distress, Rose stepped in to help. She had personally only observed a reaction like this once before in her life, decades earlier. It was etched on her heart because it was the precious night that she had met and fallen in love with her beloved husband. 'I was just sharing some stories about dear Arthur,' explained Rose swiftly, but she had already lost her audience. 'You're trembling,' observed Sam, looking kindly at Emily. 'Come on,' he said, taking another swig of his beverage before standing up. 'I'll show you to your room. Then you can have a nice long bath and warm up again.' With both of them gazing at her, as though waiting for her to take some form of action, Emily felt she had little choice but to follow Sam out of the kitchen. She wasn't entirely convinced the cold was responsible for making her tremble, but that wasn't something Sam needed to know. Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the house. Together, they ascended the grand staircase before turning off a long corridor. 'This is you,' he explained, making his way into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her bag had already been delivered and placed in a wing-backed armchair. 'And the en suite is just through there,' he added, pointing towards an adjoining bathroom. 'Wow, it's amazing,' she croaked, overwhelmed by such a beautiful room. 'Thank you so much. Are there enough bathrooms for you to take a bath too?' 'Why do you ask?' he teased. 'Would you rather share?' 'No!' she gasped quickly. 'Is everything okay, Emily?' he asked with concern. 'You seem different compared to earlier, more tense?' 'I'm fine. Thanks,' she said a little flustered. Apart from the fact she'd surmised he had children and so probably a wife, it really wouldn't do to let him know the overwhelming effect he was having on her body. 'Okay, if you're sure,' he replied, clearly not convinced. 'Help yourself to whatever you need and I'll see you downstairs when you're ready. And don't rush, I know from experience that sometimes, only a long, luxurious bath will do when you're chilled to the bone. There's tons of hot water, always is, so don't hold back. My aunt doesn't know the meaning of the word economising!' He was just closing the door behind him when a final thought occurred. 'Oh, and don't forget to call your folks,' he added, walking back into the room and handing his mobile phone to her. 'The four-digit keycode to unlock the screen is my age,' he grinned. 'See if you can guess it.' 'Seriously?' she protested, temporarily knocked-out of her shyness. 'Yep,' he laughed. 'I'll give you a clue. The first two numbers are zero, zero. Don't forget to tell your parents you're staying with a perfectly respectable lady. Probably best not to mention her far from respectable nephew.' With a wink that made Emily's cheeks and neck flush, their eyes met lingeringly before Sam closed the door firmly behind himself. With the huge bath gradually filling, Emily took Sam's phone with a significant level of apprehension and tried to guess his keycode. Starting with an estimate of thirty-five, which was her own age, Emily gradually added one year until the phone unlocked at zero zero three nine. With a level of willpower she was unaware she possessed, Emily entered her parents' home phone number, without once scrolling through his photographs, previous texts, or any other personal information Sam had willingly entrusted her with. Her parents' relief when they realised their daughter was safe was palpable. Indeed, it only served to emphasise how right Emily had been not to contact them, before she could give them good news. Providing as much information as she could, Emily described the events of the day and her current location and plans. With a promise to try her best to see them tomorrow, although she had no idea how, she rang off and sank into the welcoming, deep, steamy bubble bath with a satisfied groan. Following several top ups of hot water, during which time she could hear more and more partygoers gathering downstairs, Emily eventually stepped out from the bath, her cold, aching body now warm, supple and relaxed. The sounds of excited chatter, clinking glasses and increasingly raucous laughter echoed up through the floorboards below. Wrapped in a thick, soft bath sheet, she wandered back into the opulent bedroom and emptied her rucksack. Her clothing choices were very limited; she was going to have to wear what she'd purchased for Christmas day. Having dressed in the dark-green, velvet dress, coupled with her favourite lace underwear, Emily felt classy, elegant and unsurprisingly sexy. It was either that or jeans and, glancing out of the window to see what some of the late arrivals were wearing, it didn't look like a jeans kind of event. Once she was satisfied with her physical appearance, Emily turned her attention to her questionable emotional state. It was time to give herself a thoroughly stern talking to. In all probability, Sam wasn't single. Besides which, he was utterly, gloriously, perfectly gorgeous. Only in her very wildest dreams would she end up with a man like that. Furthermore, it was clear he had enjoyed spending time with her on their walk, when she'd been behaving like her normal self. So acting like some love sick teenager, incapable of rational conversation, wasn't going to be helpful on any level. It would be much more sensible to just relax and enjoy their limited time together as friends. And with that mantra firmly lodged in her mind, Emily took a deep breath, retrieved his phone from her bed and drifted downstairs. The party was a roaring success. Even though the bad weather had prevented many from attending, the majority of the village had still turned out to help make it a night to remember. Emily found herself chatting non-stop, not just to Rose and Sam whom she naturally gravitated towards, but to an array of other guests, many of which were delightful company. Towards the end of the evening, Sam sidled up behind her, taking her quite by surprise. 'Dance with me?' he murmured into her ear. Looking around to see his smiling face, she felt her stomach drop with lust. Up close and personal, dressed in black tie, he truly was faint-making. 'Sure,' Emily replied, in the calmest tone she could muster. She watched in astonishment as he picked up her hand, stroked her sensitive palm gently with his thumb and led her towards the dance floor at the far end of the house. The beat was slow, sultry and purposeful as 'Please come home for Christmas' oozed out of the speakers. Gently, Sam pulled Emily's body against his own. In a heightened state of bliss, Emily lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Revolving slowly around the room, they were aware of no one but each other. With her hands placed properly around his back, she could feel his taut muscles moving beneath her fingertips and the easy sway of his hips against hers. It was, quite simply, overwhelming. Disappointment flooded her as the song naturally came to an end. When it was replaced by 'All I want for Christmas is you,' Sam readjusted his hold on her and continued to dance, causing Emily's heart to soar once more. With a wide smile, Emily was unable to prevent herself from gazing up at him, her admiration blatantly discernible. 'Is everything okay?' he asked gently. 'Everything's just perfect,' she replied, beaming. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head before laying his cheek against her forehead. 'You look beautiful tonight,' he murmured matter-of-factly into her hair, as they continued to revolve around the floor. Those words had a devastating effect on Emily's pulse, which shot through the roof as a tingle of pleasure flooded every cell in her body. They danced all the way through the tracks that followed, until the final song of the evening began to play. When the chords of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' boomed out of the speakers and the entire party seemed to cram into a single room, Emily and Sam were forced to step apart. The time for slow dancing had concluded. It was a little after midnight when all of the guests had finally departed and the elderly house fell still once more. 'That was the best party ever!' Emily confided to Rose as she collapsed beside her on the sofa, in front of the gently crackling fire. 'Thank you so much for letting me stay.' 'I'm so pleased you enjoyed yourself, my dear. I saw you dancing with Sam,' she added mischievously, before taking a final sip from her mug of hot chocolate. 'Yes,' admitted a blushing Emily. 'We danced.' 'He's a good boy, that one,' sighed Rose as she eased herself up to standing. 'Faithful, trustworthy and very, very decent. And now I absolutely must go to sleep, so I'll say good night, dear girl.' 'Good night,' echoed Emily, watching the older lady leave the room. But listening to the muffled hum of conversation between Rose and her nephew in the hallway, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Had Rose just warned her off Sam? Had she been trying to help her understand that he would not betray the trust of his partner; of his children? Emily gazed into the middle distance. Out of the window, thick snowflakes continued to fall silently from the dark sky. Lost in her own thoughts, she wasn't aware of Sam's presence, until he dropped down onto the sofa beside her. Luxuriously, he rolled his head around on his shoulders and stretched. 'Hey,' he growled. 'Hey,' she replied, glancing across at him. The look in his dark eyes, which danced and twinkled back at her in the firelight, forced her to inhale swiftly. 'Bed time?' he asked. Emily nodded in agreement, with no appreciation as to whether he was making a statement or an offer. As they made their way out of the room and up the sweeping staircase, curiosity prevailed. 'Won't your children miss you tonight?' Emily asked. 'My children?' he clarified, turning off lamps as they went. 'Yes, in the photo on your phone.' 'Ah, Sally and William? Probably not,' he explained. 'But I still have no doubt they'll be as excited as ever, by my arrival tomorrow. I've always spoilt my niece and nephew with an excessive amount of Christmas presents; they'll be pleased to discover that this year will be no exception.' 'Niece and nephew? Oh, right,' croaked Emily. They had come to a halt outside her bedroom door and she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Her eyes rose slowly upwards, on the off chance that a thoughtfully placed piece of mistletoe might make things easier. To her disappointment, there was only a dusty light fitting and a spider's web. 'Well, good night Emily,' said Sam softly, dipping his head to her cheek and allowing his lips to brush across her soft skin. He stayed there for a beat longer than necessary before straightening up. Smiling down at her, he nodded his head decisively. 'Happy Christmas.' 'Happy Christmas,' she murmured to his departing back, unexpectedly overwhelmed by an acute sense of loss. On the other side of the corridor, he opened his own bedroom door, paused and turned back to face her. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, although their friendly smiles had all but disappeared. Somehow, over the course of the evening, their relationship had transformed into something more intimate, perilous and demanding of attention. Emily found herself unable to do anything other than stare back, utterly spellbound. Eventually, he sighed and nodded almost imperceptibly, before retiring into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself. To be continued in Part 3 By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.
Russ, Wedge, Duncans Lees and Rouse, Alex, Louis (on debut), Chris, Dan, Kevin and Sheebo in the house, showing hope, pain and candid analytical credentials amongst other things as the good guys fell to their upstart baby brothers from the arse end of London. Never mind though. Freak results and strange anomalies are a well established thing in football and the Nigels had to finally beat us eventually. Just makes the revenge sweeter come the springtime. Stand or fall! UTA! This podcast is a bed-wetting free zone!!! @BrightonRockPod on BlueSky (and Twatter) brightonrockpodcast@gmail.com Part of the Sport Social Podcast Network that can be found in all their glory at this rather suitable address: www.sport-social.co.uk Please follow us for automatic downloads of new episodes and if you want to make us really happy please rate us five stars on Apple and any other platforms that provide the opportunity to do so! Why not write a review while you are at it?! ;0). All this helps our rankings and improves our chances of getting exciting guests onto the show. Also we are now on Patreon, so if you happen to be inclined to extreme acts of generosity we'd greatly appreciate any monthly donations, great or small, to help us run the pod as well as we can. Go to www.patreon.com/BrightonRockPod for details and to sign up. NB Our content will remain freely accessible to all listeners regardless. Humble thanks! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Some tours yield $2 billion (right, Taylor Swift?), some tours just bring Paul Calvisi, Darren Urban and Dani Dureck back into the studio each week for tremendous podcasting even though they aren't getting Juan Soto money. The trio discuss the Cardinals' mode of play against the Seahawks after it was broached by Jonathan Gannon, the need to cut down on recent penalties, the line play since the bye on both sides of the ball, Kyler Murray's struggles of late, the Patriots turning to Drake Maye, what it would take for the wild card, Budda Baker on a rampage, and Cheers to another edition of The Wise Guy.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
The 2024 season finale, with Dion, Dave Clacton, Reg Tankwater, The Pikelet Man, The Hater, Shane [REDACTED], Patrick Paget, Cratog Carabasirica, Ronnie Bung, Crackers & the Tugboat and…Bob Dylan? Plus, as tradition demands, Pete Smith, Davey Lane, and more songs than would seem necessary. Support the Show | Merch Store | Official Website
I heard the Lord say, “Swiftly, expediently, immediately.”
There is little left that we can do to influence the outcome of the election, so we need to prepare to maximize the power we do have under either outcome. I game out the challenges and opportunities for each outcome and what needs to be done. If Trump does win, he must act on deportations and an immigration moratorium immediately. I go through numerous stories of the Biden administration releasing criminals and terrorists into the country, including the latest suspected ISIS member from Afghanistan who was allegedly plotting an Election Day terror attack in Oklahoma City. They are transforming red-state cities at breakneck speed, and we cannot waste any time before addressing this issue. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Trump has 0 chance of countering the 70+ witnesses who used to be on his payroll who are all now testifying against him in the DC Election Interference case to prove to the American voter that he is not guilty, so he's not even going to try. Michael Popok explains that Trump's obtaining an extension until after the election to file his opposition to Jack Smith's overwhelming display of evidence against him means Trump knows he's guilty. Upgrade your sleep with Miracle Made! Go to https://TryMiracle.com/LEGALAF and use the code LEGALAF to claim your FREE 3 PIECE TOWEL SET and SAVE over 40% OFF. Join the Legal AF Patreon: https://Patreon.com/LegalAF Remember to subscribe to ALL the MeidasTouch Network Podcasts: MeidasTouch: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/meidastouch-podcast Legal AF: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/legal-af MissTrial: https://meidasnews.com/tag/miss-trial The PoliticsGirl Podcast: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/the-politicsgirl-podcast The Influence Continuum: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/the-influence-continuum-with-dr-steven-hassan Mea Culpa with Michael Cohen: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/mea-culpa-with-michael-cohen The Weekend Show: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/the-weekend-show Burn the Boats: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/burn-the-boats Majority 54: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/majority-54 Political Beatdown: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/political-beatdown Lights On with Jessica Denson: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/lights-on-with-jessica-denson On Democracy with FP Wellman: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/on-democracy-with-fpwellman Uncovered: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/maga-uncovered Coalition of the Sane: https://meidasnews.com/tag/coalition-of-the-sane Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
This is The Zone of Disruption! This is the I AM RAPAPORT: STEREO PODCAST! His name is Michael Rapaport aka The Gringo Mandingo aka The Charles Oakley of The Jews, The Monster of Mucous aka Captain Colitis aka The Disruptive Warrior aka Mr. NY aka The Inflamed Ashkenazi aka The Smiling Sultan of Sniff aka The Flat Footed Phenom aka Mitzvah Mike is here from New York to discuss: Enjoying Summer Lovin', 10 Years of Disruption, Appreciating The Olympics, Noah Lyles played himself, Fantasy Football Culture of Winning, The Swifties must act swiftly to fight terrorism, Israel plucking them off & coming for Yuck Yuck, Kooky Kamala Harris Picks Coach VP Walz & a whole lotta mo'. This episode is not to be missed! Rate & Review on Apple Podcasts or Spotify Send questions & concerns to: iamrapaportpodcast@gmail.com Subscribe to Rapaport's Reality Feeds: iHeartRadio: https://www.iheart.com/podcast/867-rapaports-reality-with-keb-171162927/ Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/rapaports-reality-with-kebe-michael-rapaport/id1744160673 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/3a9ArixCtWRhfpfo1Tz7MR Pandora: https://www.pandora.com/podcast/rapaports-reality-with-kebe-michael-rapaport/PC:1001087456 Amazon Music: https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/a776919e-ad8c-4b4b-90c6-f28e41fe1d40/rapaports-reality-with-kebe-michael-rapaport Stand Up Comedy Tickets on sale at: MichaelRapaportComedy.com If you are interested in NCAA, MLB, NBA, NFL & UFC Picks/Parlays Follow @TheCaptainPicks on Instagram & subscribe to packages at www.CaptainPicks.com www.dbpodcasts.com Produced by DBPodcasts.com Follow @dbpodcasts, @iamrapaport, @michaelrapaport on TikTok, Twitter & Instagram Music by Jansport J (Follow @JansportJ) www.JansportJMusic.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Michael Cohen and Ben Meiselas react to Trump's disastrous interview yesterday and his continued meltdown as he sinks in the polls. This and more on the new episode of Political Beatdown! Miracle Made: Upgrade your sleep with Miracle Made! Go to https://TryMiracle.com/BEAT and use the code BEAT to claim your FREE 3 PIECE TOWEL SET and SAVE over 40% OFF. Green Chef: Go to https://greenchef.com/beat50 and use code beat50 to get 50% off, plus 20% off your next two months. Subscribe to Michael Cohen's NEW Channel for daily episodes! https://www.youtube.com/@TheMichaelCohenShow/featured Join us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/PoliticalBeatdown Add the NEW Mea Culpa podcast feed: https://linktr.ee/meaculpapod Support Michael's Legal Fund: http://donald4prison.com Remember to subscribe to ALL the MeidasTouch Network Podcasts: MeidasTouch: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/meidastouch-podcast Legal AF: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/legal-af MissTrial: https://meidasnews.com/tag/miss-trial The PoliticsGirl Podcast: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/the-politicsgirl-podcast The Influence Continuum: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/the-influence-continuum-with-dr-steven-hassan Mea Culpa with Michael Cohen: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/mea-culpa-with-michael-cohen The Weekend Show: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/the-weekend-show Burn the Boats: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/burn-the-boats Majority 54: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/majority-54 Political Beatdown: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/political-beatdown Lights On with Jessica Denson: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/lights-on-with-jessica-denson On Democracy with FP Wellman: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/on-democracy-with-fpwellman Uncovered: https://www.meidastouch.com/tag/maga-uncovered Coalition of the Sane: https://meidasnews.com/tag/coalition-of-the-sane Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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