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4 episodes with Thompkins
4 episodes with Thompkins
4 episodes with Thompkins
4 episodes with Thompkins
4 episodes with Thompkins
2 episodes with Thompkins
2 episodes with Thompkins
2 episodes with Thompkins
3 episodes with Thompkins
The UNSOLVED Disappearance of Christopher ThompkinsBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/missing-persons-mysteries--5624803/support.
In this special edition of Tunnel Vision hosts Ryan Abraham and new intern India Otto are in studio and joined remotely by Trojan fourth year defensive lineman Devan Thompkins who came to USC in the class of 2024 out of Edison High School in Stockton. Thanks to House of Victory, the 6-foot-5, 293 pound defensive tackle from Northern California joins the show to talk about his journey to USC, how he has built up his body over his college career and what has changed working with new strength coach Trumain Carroll, switching from basketball to football, what he learned from playing in all 13 games last season and how he expects to build on that during the 2025 season. New defensive coordinator D'Anton Lynn improved the Trojans on that side of the ball, but USC had limitations on the defensive line. Expectations are high with bigger, stronger bodies along the front seven including players like Thompkins who are expected to make bigger contributions. The interview with Thompkins was conducted in conjunction with House of Victory, an alumni-backed nonprofit collective dedicated to providing a competitive edge in the NIL space for University of Southern California student-athletes. If you want to help out USC's NIL efforts, you can donate to House of Victory here. CLICK HERE for 30% OFF an annual VIP membership to USCFootball.com! Please review, rate and subscribe to the Peristyle Podcast on Apple Podcasts! Make sure you check out USCFootball.com for complete coverage of this USC Trojan football team. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Happy Tuesday! Today we have a great double-feature of Good Morning Aurora for you. This morning Minister Deyon Washington returns with another episode of Sharing The Bible Ministries, our faith-based program which airs bi-weekly here on Tuesday's. Next up after that is our friend Berywn Thompkins Jr., founder of IGTM Education! Berwyn is a friend of the show and we're glad to have him back to let us know what's going on in the world of cannabis education. Got questions? Send us an email to: goodmorningaurorail@gmail.comHave a great rest of the day! Good Morning Aurora will return with more news, weather and the very best of Aurora. Subscribe to the show on YouTube at this link: https://www.youtube.com/c/GoodMorningAuroraPodcastThe second largest city's first daily news podcast is here. Tune in 5 days a week, Monday thru Friday from 9:00 to 9:30 am. Make sure to like and subscribe to stay updated on all things Aurora.Threads: https://www.threads.net/@goodmorningaurorailInstagram: goodmorningaurorailSpotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/6dVweK5Zc4uPVQQ0Fp1vEP...Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/.../good-morning.../id1513229463Anchor: https://anchor.fm/goodmorningauroraACTV (Aurora Community Television): https://www.aurora-il.org/309/Aurora-Community-TV#positivevibes #positiveenergy #kanecountyil #bataviail #genevail #stcharlesil #saintcharlesil #elginil #northaurorail #auroraillinois #cityofaurorail #auroramedia #auroranews #goodmorningaurora #morningnews #morningshow #tuesday #fyp
The Funeral CourtshipAbandoned Childhood wishes, finally fulfilled.Based on a post by secret sexy writer. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.I had known Alex Newberry my entire life. He was the boy down the street during my childhood, the boy behind me throughout school, and the boy who I always wished would see me as more than just "one of the boys." Especially since I was a girl.But I'd never pressed for anything more. I didn't want to ruin our friendship. His family was my second family. Even his nana considered me as her granddaughter.We'd stayed in touch even after I left town to pursue a new career. Throughout the year, we would exchange Emails and sometimes the occasional text. Only at my birthday and on Christmas did I receive snail mail from him. They were always hilarious and always perfect.The day I received the small envelope in early Fall threw me for a loop. It was written in Alex's neat print and had a pre-printed return label with his address, so I knew it was from him. I just didn't know why. I was even more stunned when I slid my finger under the flap and pulled out the single sheet of paper folded in half.I had been standing by the sofa in the living room when I opened the envelope. My eyes scanned the brief note inside, and my knees gave out. I collapsed to the sofa, tears rimming my eyes.Alex's grandmother, Nana Newberry, had passed away.Visions played in my head like an old home movie. Mostly, they were of the summers swimming in the pond behind her house and the day-trips she'd invite me to go on with Alex. Both of my own grandmothers had passed away when I was still too young to remember them much. My loss was almost as deep as Alex's was.Almost.Once I'd caught my breath, I reached for my cell phone and pulled up his number. I tried to swallow my tears as I heard the line ring. I wasn't surprised to receive his voicemail. He was probably busy making arrangements and handling family."Hey, Alex. It's Jaynie. I got your letter. I'm so sorry. I'm booking a flight out tonight, and I'll be there as soon as I can. If there's anything you need, let me know. See you soon."I was already halfway to my bedroom when I clicked off the phone and shoved it into my pocket. My brain was on autopilot as I dragged my suitcase from the closet and gathered the necessary toiletries from the bathroom cabinets and drawers. I was folding socks and panties when I realized I should call the airport.Less than an hour later, I was in the backseat of a cab and leaving a message on my boss's phone telling him I would be out of town for a couple of days due to a family emergency. I arranged for a rental car and for nightly accommodations nearest to my hometown. I knew there was no place in town to stay, the population being barely just under five hundred. If anything had changed over the years, that definitely wasn't one of them.It wasn't until I was seated on the plane, the city's lights fading into dots below me that I let myself think about Nana again. I missed her hugs the most. Her squishy arms always surrounded me with such love. I felt protected. Wanted. My parents were always busy working. Nana was so much more than just an adoptive grandparent.My mind wandered, and I remembered Alex's hugs. I smiled, laughing softly at the memory of him hugging me tight with a toothy grin while Nana took our picture. Then he pushed me into the pond; with my clothes on. We were only six. But I was old enough to know that I liked Alex more than I liked other boys.I was the only girl in the neighborhood, so I either had to adapt to being a tomboy or be left out. I chose the former, much to my mother's dismay. I allowed her to enroll me in dance classes when she insisted I act more like a girl, but I secretly enjoyed playing with the boys more. I didn't mind being the Indian the cowboys always captured and tied up. Or the robber they arrested with the plastic set of handcuffs. Or even Princess Leia, when they wanted to re-enact Star Wars, especially when Alex got to be Han Solo and rescue me.I must have drifted off because the next thing I heard was the announcement to fasten our seatbelts and put seats and tray-tables in the upright position for landing. The plane was only half-full, so I was soon strolling through the nearly empty terminal and heading downstairs to collect my baggage and rental car. I grabbed a cup of coffee from the only open vendor and asked the information desk for directions to the hotel where I'd made reservations. There was nothing more I could do for Alex tonight.But once I'd reached my destination, the last thing on my mind was sleep. My accommodations were comfortable, but not even a hot shower seemed to help. I crawled beneath the covers and turned on the TV, hoping I'd just fall asleep from boredom and get some rest before the hour drive to my hometown in the morning.A ringing phone and the incessant chatter of a woman and man pulled me out of the strangest dream. I'd been fully dressed and standing by Nana's pond, but I was thirty-four years old, not six. Alex walked towards me, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, and he flashed his toothy grin at me. I reached for his hand, and I swear I stepped forward, but the next thing I knew, I was falling backwards into the pond. I struggled to swim, the weight of my clothes pulling me underwater. Someone grabbed my hand, and then I woke up.An automated wake-up call answered my sleepy greeting, and I clumsily set the receiver back on the handset and rolled over, groaning. That's when I realized the morning news was playing on the TV. My body felt like it had been through a 5K run; or maybe it had struggled to stay above water. In either case, I dragged myself to the bathroom for another shower.I decided on a simple navy pantsuit and crimson camisole blouse. It was cool but dark enough for the funeral, yet I didn't feel completely dreary in it. Plus it emphasized my curves and long legs. Today, I felt like I wanted to be a girl in front of Alex. Not that it would matter.After securing another cup of coffee, I took a deep breath and pointed the rental car towards my hometown. I remembered where the only funeral home was, and I had plenty of time before the services started. Yet, I was suddenly nervous. I hadn't actually seen Alex in several years, despite our constant contact. I hated the fact that it took something like this to bring us together again. I promised myself that I would visit more often.The parking lot was overflowing when I finally pulled up to the funeral home. I ended up parking half a block away on a side street and walking back to the large Victorian-style house that had been converted into the place where we said goodbye to our loved ones. Trees adorned with vibrantly colored leaves decorated the front yard. It looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting, set right in the heart of my hometown.I joined the throng of people who had come to pay their respects, and managed to find a seat in the back of the largest room that was always used for services. The belief in the community was that our two churches were for worship and weddings. Funerals were held at Thompkins & Sons, no matter if you were Catholic or Baptist.I didn't recognize a single person near me, but I was sure that Nana had known most of the town and then some, and I'd been a teenager when I'd left for college. I settled myself in and made sure I had my tissues accessible.The service itself was lovely, and there were lots of tears from everyone. Alex even got up and made a speech at one point. While I knew I was there because of Nana, I couldn't help staring at her grown grandson. His stature had reached at least six feet. He towered over me by at least five inches.I don't remember a word he said, but I could describe him with my eyes closed. His short brown hair, his tailored black suit and tie, the dimple in his right cheek when he smiled. He had green eyes, and I could imagine them sparkling while he talked about his grandmother, the corner of his eyes crinkling with his laughter.People were standing up around me and talking, and I blinked, realizing that the service was over. I wiped at my eyes and stood, not sure what to do now. I slipped out of the row and away from the crowd. It was then that I noticed no one was by the open casket. I quietly made my way to the front of the room and stopped before Nana's permanent expression of peace.Tears tugged at the back of my throat, and I had to stop myself from reaching out to grasp her folded hands. The purple dress she was wearing went well with her silvery hair, and she looked as if she were asleep. I silently thanked her for all the good times we'd had together, for accepting me as one of her grandchildren, for making me feel wanted.I don't know how long I stood there, but I had the feeling that someone was watching me. I needed to move on. I kissed my fingertips and gently pressed them to her rubbery cheek. When I turned to leave, blazing green eyes met mine, and I gasped."Jaynie, you came."And then Alex's arms pulled me against his hard body.I wrapped him in my arms and held him tight, resting my cheek on his shoulder. I couldn't believe how good he felt. Something deep inside of me stirred, and I had to force it back down. He was my best friend. It would never be anything more than that."Of course I came. I left you a message. I took the red-eye last night.""I'm sorry, I haven't checked my phone. I hoped you'd come, but I wasn't counting on it. "I pulled away to look at his face. Our eyes met again, and I groaned inwardly. "I wouldn't have missed this for anything. She was like my own grandmother. Thank you for letting me know.""What about work?""They'll survive without me for a couple of days." I laughed and before I could wipe away my tears, his thumb brushed my cheek. I sucked back my breath and hid my surprise with a smile. "What can I do to help now that I'm here?"Alex stared at me for a moment, a lopsided grin on his face. He blinked, and then his toothy grin came out full force, dimple included. "There's a dinner at Nana's house after we go to the cemetery. Do you have a car?""I have a rental. I'm staying in Rosewood at the Holiday Inn.""Let me tell Mom and Dad I'll meet them. Do you mind driving?""No, lead the way." I smiled and even felt a little giddy when he grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd that was slowly filtering out the front doors. I barely had a chance to say hello to his parents before he was heading in the direction where I said I'd parked my car. And then we were pulling out to line up behind the black sedan his parents were riding in and the hearse idling before them.It suddenly occurred me to that everyone else was going to be following me. I must have looked nervous because Alex grasped my hand on the gearshift between us and squeezed it."I'm glad you're here."I swallowed heavily and turned to smile at him. He was watching me, something unreadable in those green eyes. I opened my mouth to ask him what he was thinking, but nothing came out. And then he let go of my hand and motioned that we should move.I was in a daze as I drove to the cemetery, sat through the rest of the ceremony, and climbed back into my car and drove us to Nana's house. It wasn't until we were sitting in her driveway that I felt the tears return. I hadn't been here in so many years I couldn't count them. I had been a horrible granddaughter, adopted or not."I know. I miss her, too." Alex squeezed my hand again and then got out.I swiped the back of my hand across my eyes and climbed out, automatically locking the car."No one's going to steal it," Alex laughed. It was a deep, comforting sound.I shrugged. "It's just a habit."He laughed again and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, guiding me up the drive. People were mingling on the wrap-around front porch, and the smell of fried chicken wafted out the screen on the front door.It felt and smelled like home.I had eaten my share of food and then some. At some point, Alex and I became separated amongst all the guests. I took the opportunity to sneak upstairs to use the larger bathroom. On my way back, I passed the room Nana used to sit in and work on projects. I remember her teaching me how to sew as I sat on a little cushioned stool.I smiled, knowing I could sew a button back onto a blouse or a pair of pants, but that was all now. The sound from downstairs grew fainter as I moved closer to the window on the far side of the room. The pond in the backyard glittered back under the noon sun. Weeping Willows outlined the oasis of my youth, and for a moment, I longed for those days.I longed to have Nana hug me one more time. The last time she had, I was leaving for college. She told me to be a good girl and make my parents proud. I couldn't remember the last time I'd hugged my parents. Or seen them face-to-face. We talked about once a month, but they were always traveling now that they were retired. I bit back a laugh at the irony.I wandered back downstairs, smiling and nodding at people who recognized me, although I couldn't say who they were. That was the problem with small towns, and with moving away. All of the elderly people remembered when you were born and whom your parents were, but you rarely remembered anything about them, much less their names.The crowd was smaller now, and I heard several women in the dining room and kitchen cleaning up the dishes. I hugged my arms to my chest and slowly walked down the long hallway to the back of the house. Framed photos hung on both sides of the wall, and I suddenly wished I'd had a grandmother growing up who'd had pictures of me on display. As much as Nana had tried to make me feel accepted in her home, I really wasn't a part of her family.I pushed pending tears away and stepped out the back door and down the steps to the yard. The sun was warm, and the pond beckoned me to it. I found myself standing on the small wooden dock Alex's dad had built. One of the boards was broken, and the weather had done a good job fading the stain, but otherwise it was still sturdy.A warm breeze blew up off the water, rustling through the switches on the Willow. I stretched out my arms to feel it, and took a big sigh. I hadn't felt so relaxed in a long time. While I didn't mind my job, I didn't love it. While I loved traveling, I didn't like having to do it for work.What I wouldn't give to be able to come home at the end of the day and sit out on a porch like the one at Nana's and watch the sun go down instead of watching it from the sixth-floor balcony of my high-rise in the city. To hear the sound of crickets in the evening instead of the rush of traffic.A board creaked behind me, and I spun around. Someone grabbed my hand as I stepped back, and I was suddenly back in my dream. I gasped and struggled to regain my balance. Instead of falling backwards into the water, I was jerked forward and into Alex's strong embrace."Whoa! You okay, Jaynie?"I caught my breath and swallowed, blinking away the remnants of my dream. "Yeah. Thanks. I must have slipped.""Everyone's gone home." He dropped his arms but didn't move away."I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I'll be on my way." I started to walk past him, but he grabbed my wrist."Stay." He released my hand and cleared his throat. "Please stay."I lifted my eyes to his and held his gaze. I wanted to reach out to touch him, to caress his cheek, to run my fingers through his hair. But I refrained and kept my hands at my sides. "Okay."His smile lit up his whole face, but there was a shadow in his eyes. He stared at me a moment longer and then said, "Let's go back to my place so we can talk."I blinked, realizing what he'd said, and then I brushed away any ulterior motives. Of course, we'd go back to his place. We couldn't stay at Nana's. He'd be most comfortable in his home. And I wanted to see it. I really did.We said goodbye to his parents inside, and then I followed his car across town to his small house. I parked behind him in a gravel driveway overgrown with weeds and stared at the weather-beaten boards of the house, the crooked front steps, the boards over one of the windows."It's just a rental," Alex laughed. He climbed out and ran his hand back through his hair as he headed back to my car. "I've actually been living with Nana, taking care of her. When she had to go to the hospital, I got this place. We weren't sure what to do with her house.""I'm sorry, I didn't—""It's okay, Jaynie. This place was a steal. Besides, Nana left me her house in her will, so once we clean the place out, I'll be moving back there.""What? That's wonderful! Congrats, Alex. I know you love it there." I couldn't stop myself from hugging him. Or feeling the slightest bit jealous. When our eyes met again, I stepped back and shut the driver's side door. I cleared my throat and my thoughts. "So, let's see what we've got.""Be careful of the first step." He held out his hand and helped me up to the front porch. He wrestled with the lock on the door and then it swung open into a clean living room. The carpet was definitely dated, and the walls needed a good coat of paint, but his modern leather and oak furniture minimized the noticeable eyesores. "Want something to drink?""Sure, whatever you're having." I glanced around, setting my purse on an end table. Typical masculine knickknacks decorated the few shelves on the walls: various sports paraphernalia, photos of Alex and his buddies, a couple of dusty mugs from a tavern in Florida.My eyes stopped on a photo of two young kids. A boy and a girl. The glass was cleaner than the rest of the photos, and the metal frame was brushed nickel rather than the standard black plastic frames on the others."That's us at Nana's pond." Alex handed me a glass of cola and picked up the frame. He took a sip of his own soda and put the frame back after a moment, snorting softly. "I shoved you into the water after she snapped the picture."I gulped. I had forgotten that part. That when Nana had lifted her camera, she'd told Alex to put his arm around me and smile. He hadn't wanted to hug me. Maybe I'd pretended all along that he liked hanging out with me.But he'd kept the picture. He'd kept it clean and prominently displayed.I took a sip of my drink and moved to sit on the sofa. The leather squeaked as I sank into the corner with a soft sigh. It was comfortable. So much so that I toed off my heels and curled my legs up underneath me. The heat of the afternoon sun streaming in the bare window behind me warmed the material, and I laid my head back for a moment and breathed deep."It's quiet here." I kept my eyes closed and smiled sadly. "I miss this."The sofa squeaked again, and the weight on the cushion next to me shifted."Me, too."For the longest time, neither of us talked. The only sound was the clinking of ice in our glasses and the occasional car driving by outside. I didn't want to move. I wished I could just curl
The Funeral CourtshipAbandoned Childhood wishes, finally fulfilled.Based on a post by secret sexy writer. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.I had known Alex Newberry my entire life. He was the boy down the street during my childhood, the boy behind me throughout school, and the boy who I always wished would see me as more than just "one of the boys." Especially since I was a girl.But I'd never pressed for anything more. I didn't want to ruin our friendship. His family was my second family. Even his nana considered me as her granddaughter.We'd stayed in touch even after I left town to pursue a new career. Throughout the year, we would exchange Emails and sometimes the occasional text. Only at my birthday and on Christmas did I receive snail mail from him. They were always hilarious and always perfect.The day I received the small envelope in early Fall threw me for a loop. It was written in Alex's neat print and had a pre-printed return label with his address, so I knew it was from him. I just didn't know why. I was even more stunned when I slid my finger under the flap and pulled out the single sheet of paper folded in half.I had been standing by the sofa in the living room when I opened the envelope. My eyes scanned the brief note inside, and my knees gave out. I collapsed to the sofa, tears rimming my eyes.Alex's grandmother, Nana Newberry, had passed away.Visions played in my head like an old home movie. Mostly, they were of the summers swimming in the pond behind her house and the day-trips she'd invite me to go on with Alex. Both of my own grandmothers had passed away when I was still too young to remember them much. My loss was almost as deep as Alex's was.Almost.Once I'd caught my breath, I reached for my cell phone and pulled up his number. I tried to swallow my tears as I heard the line ring. I wasn't surprised to receive his voicemail. He was probably busy making arrangements and handling family."Hey, Alex. It's Jaynie. I got your letter. I'm so sorry. I'm booking a flight out tonight, and I'll be there as soon as I can. If there's anything you need, let me know. See you soon."I was already halfway to my bedroom when I clicked off the phone and shoved it into my pocket. My brain was on autopilot as I dragged my suitcase from the closet and gathered the necessary toiletries from the bathroom cabinets and drawers. I was folding socks and panties when I realized I should call the airport.Less than an hour later, I was in the backseat of a cab and leaving a message on my boss's phone telling him I would be out of town for a couple of days due to a family emergency. I arranged for a rental car and for nightly accommodations nearest to my hometown. I knew there was no place in town to stay, the population being barely just under five hundred. If anything had changed over the years, that definitely wasn't one of them.It wasn't until I was seated on the plane, the city's lights fading into dots below me that I let myself think about Nana again. I missed her hugs the most. Her squishy arms always surrounded me with such love. I felt protected. Wanted. My parents were always busy working. Nana was so much more than just an adoptive grandparent.My mind wandered, and I remembered Alex's hugs. I smiled, laughing softly at the memory of him hugging me tight with a toothy grin while Nana took our picture. Then he pushed me into the pond; with my clothes on. We were only six. But I was old enough to know that I liked Alex more than I liked other boys.I was the only girl in the neighborhood, so I either had to adapt to being a tomboy or be left out. I chose the former, much to my mother's dismay. I allowed her to enroll me in dance classes when she insisted I act more like a girl, but I secretly enjoyed playing with the boys more. I didn't mind being the Indian the cowboys always captured and tied up. Or the robber they arrested with the plastic set of handcuffs. Or even Princess Leia, when they wanted to re-enact Star Wars, especially when Alex got to be Han Solo and rescue me.I must have drifted off because the next thing I heard was the announcement to fasten our seatbelts and put seats and tray-tables in the upright position for landing. The plane was only half-full, so I was soon strolling through the nearly empty terminal and heading downstairs to collect my baggage and rental car. I grabbed a cup of coffee from the only open vendor and asked the information desk for directions to the hotel where I'd made reservations. There was nothing more I could do for Alex tonight.But once I'd reached my destination, the last thing on my mind was sleep. My accommodations were comfortable, but not even a hot shower seemed to help. I crawled beneath the covers and turned on the TV, hoping I'd just fall asleep from boredom and get some rest before the hour drive to my hometown in the morning.A ringing phone and the incessant chatter of a woman and man pulled me out of the strangest dream. I'd been fully dressed and standing by Nana's pond, but I was thirty-four years old, not six. Alex walked towards me, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, and he flashed his toothy grin at me. I reached for his hand, and I swear I stepped forward, but the next thing I knew, I was falling backwards into the pond. I struggled to swim, the weight of my clothes pulling me underwater. Someone grabbed my hand, and then I woke up.An automated wake-up call answered my sleepy greeting, and I clumsily set the receiver back on the handset and rolled over, groaning. That's when I realized the morning news was playing on the TV. My body felt like it had been through a 5K run; or maybe it had struggled to stay above water. In either case, I dragged myself to the bathroom for another shower.I decided on a simple navy pantsuit and crimson camisole blouse. It was cool but dark enough for the funeral, yet I didn't feel completely dreary in it. Plus it emphasized my curves and long legs. Today, I felt like I wanted to be a girl in front of Alex. Not that it would matter.After securing another cup of coffee, I took a deep breath and pointed the rental car towards my hometown. I remembered where the only funeral home was, and I had plenty of time before the services started. Yet, I was suddenly nervous. I hadn't actually seen Alex in several years, despite our constant contact. I hated the fact that it took something like this to bring us together again. I promised myself that I would visit more often.The parking lot was overflowing when I finally pulled up to the funeral home. I ended up parking half a block away on a side street and walking back to the large Victorian-style house that had been converted into the place where we said goodbye to our loved ones. Trees adorned with vibrantly colored leaves decorated the front yard. It looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting, set right in the heart of my hometown.I joined the throng of people who had come to pay their respects, and managed to find a seat in the back of the largest room that was always used for services. The belief in the community was that our two churches were for worship and weddings. Funerals were held at Thompkins & Sons, no matter if you were Catholic or Baptist.I didn't recognize a single person near me, but I was sure that Nana had known most of the town and then some, and I'd been a teenager when I'd left for college. I settled myself in and made sure I had my tissues accessible.The service itself was lovely, and there were lots of tears from everyone. Alex even got up and made a speech at one point. While I knew I was there because of Nana, I couldn't help staring at her grown grandson. His stature had reached at least six feet. He towered over me by at least five inches.I don't remember a word he said, but I could describe him with my eyes closed. His short brown hair, his tailored black suit and tie, the dimple in his right cheek when he smiled. He had green eyes, and I could imagine them sparkling while he talked about his grandmother, the corner of his eyes crinkling with his laughter.People were standing up around me and talking, and I blinked, realizing that the service was over. I wiped at my eyes and stood, not sure what to do now. I slipped out of the row and away from the crowd. It was then that I noticed no one was by the open casket. I quietly made my way to the front of the room and stopped before Nana's permanent expression of peace.Tears tugged at the back of my throat, and I had to stop myself from reaching out to grasp her folded hands. The purple dress she was wearing went well with her silvery hair, and she looked as if she were asleep. I silently thanked her for all the good times we'd had together, for accepting me as one of her grandchildren, for making me feel wanted.I don't know how long I stood there, but I had the feeling that someone was watching me. I needed to move on. I kissed my fingertips and gently pressed them to her rubbery cheek. When I turned to leave, blazing green eyes met mine, and I gasped."Jaynie, you came."And then Alex's arms pulled me against his hard body.I wrapped him in my arms and held him tight, resting my cheek on his shoulder. I couldn't believe how good he felt. Something deep inside of me stirred, and I had to force it back down. He was my best friend. It would never be anything more than that."Of course I came. I left you a message. I took the red-eye last night.""I'm sorry, I haven't checked my phone. I hoped you'd come, but I wasn't counting on it. "I pulled away to look at his face. Our eyes met again, and I groaned inwardly. "I wouldn't have missed this for anything. She was like my own grandmother. Thank you for letting me know.""What about work?""They'll survive without me for a couple of days." I laughed and before I could wipe away my tears, his thumb brushed my cheek. I sucked back my breath and hid my surprise with a smile. "What can I do to help now that I'm here?"Alex stared at me for a moment, a lopsided grin on his face. He blinked, and then his toothy grin came out full force, dimple included. "There's a dinner at Nana's house after we go to the cemetery. Do you have a car?""I have a rental. I'm staying in Rosewood at the Holiday Inn.""Let me tell Mom and Dad I'll meet them. Do you mind driving?""No, lead the way." I smiled and even felt a little giddy when he grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd that was slowly filtering out the front doors. I barely had a chance to say hello to his parents before he was heading in the direction where I said I'd parked my car. And then we were pulling out to line up behind the black sedan his parents were riding in and the hearse idling before them.It suddenly occurred me to that everyone else was going to be following me. I must have looked nervous because Alex grasped my hand on the gearshift between us and squeezed it."I'm glad you're here."I swallowed heavily and turned to smile at him. He was watching me, something unreadable in those green eyes. I opened my mouth to ask him what he was thinking, but nothing came out. And then he let go of my hand and motioned that we should move.I was in a daze as I drove to the cemetery, sat through the rest of the ceremony, and climbed back into my car and drove us to Nana's house. It wasn't until we were sitting in her driveway that I felt the tears return. I hadn't been here in so many years I couldn't count them. I had been a horrible granddaughter, adopted or not."I know. I miss her, too." Alex squeezed my hand again and then got out.I swiped the back of my hand across my eyes and climbed out, automatically locking the car."No one's going to steal it," Alex laughed. It was a deep, comforting sound.I shrugged. "It's just a habit."He laughed again and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, guiding me up the drive. People were mingling on the wrap-around front porch, and the smell of fried chicken wafted out the screen on the front door.It felt and smelled like home.I had eaten my share of food and then some. At some point, Alex and I became separated amongst all the guests. I took the opportunity to sneak upstairs to use the larger bathroom. On my way back, I passed the room Nana used to sit in and work on projects. I remember her teaching me how to sew as I sat on a little cushioned stool.I smiled, knowing I could sew a button back onto a blouse or a pair of pants, but that was all now. The sound from downstairs grew fainter as I moved closer to the window on the far side of the room. The pond in the backyard glittered back under the noon sun. Weeping Willows outlined the oasis of my youth, and for a moment, I longed for those days.I longed to have Nana hug me one more time. The last time she had, I was leaving for college. She told me to be a good girl and make my parents proud. I couldn't remember the last time I'd hugged my parents. Or seen them face-to-face. We talked about once a month, but they were always traveling now that they were retired. I bit back a laugh at the irony.I wandered back downstairs, smiling and nodding at people who recognized me, although I couldn't say who they were. That was the problem with small towns, and with moving away. All of the elderly people remembered when you were born and whom your parents were, but you rarely remembered anything about them, much less their names.The crowd was smaller now, and I heard several women in the dining room and kitchen cleaning up the dishes. I hugged my arms to my chest and slowly walked down the long hallway to the back of the house. Framed photos hung on both sides of the wall, and I suddenly wished I'd had a grandmother growing up who'd had pictures of me on display. As much as Nana had tried to make me feel accepted in her home, I really wasn't a part of her family.I pushed pending tears away and stepped out the back door and down the steps to the yard. The sun was warm, and the pond beckoned me to it. I found myself standing on the small wooden dock Alex's dad had built. One of the boards was broken, and the weather had done a good job fading the stain, but otherwise it was still sturdy.A warm breeze blew up off the water, rustling through the switches on the Willow. I stretched out my arms to feel it, and took a big sigh. I hadn't felt so relaxed in a long time. While I didn't mind my job, I didn't love it. While I loved traveling, I didn't like having to do it for work.What I wouldn't give to be able to come home at the end of the day and sit out on a porch like the one at Nana's and watch the sun go down instead of watching it from the sixth-floor balcony of my high-rise in the city. To hear the sound of crickets in the evening instead of the rush of traffic.A board creaked behind me, and I spun around. Someone grabbed my hand as I stepped back, and I was suddenly back in my dream. I gasped and struggled to regain my balance. Instead of falling backwards into the water, I was jerked forward and into Alex's strong embrace."Whoa! You okay, Jaynie?"I caught my breath and swallowed, blinking away the remnants of my dream. "Yeah. Thanks. I must have slipped.""Everyone's gone home." He dropped his arms but didn't move away."I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I'll be on my way." I started to walk past him, but he grabbed my wrist."Stay." He released my hand and cleared his throat. "Please stay."I lifted my eyes to his and held his gaze. I wanted to reach out to touch him, to caress his cheek, to run my fingers through his hair. But I refrained and kept my hands at my sides. "Okay."His smile lit up his whole face, but there was a shadow in his eyes. He stared at me a moment longer and then said, "Let's go back to my place so we can talk."I blinked, realizing what he'd said, and then I brushed away any ulterior motives. Of course, we'd go back to his place. We couldn't stay at Nana's. He'd be most comfortable in his home. And I wanted to see it. I really did.We said goodbye to his parents inside, and then I followed his car across town to his small house. I parked behind him in a gravel driveway overgrown with weeds and stared at the weather-beaten boards of the house, the crooked front steps, the boards over one of the windows."It's just a rental," Alex laughed. He climbed out and ran his hand back through his hair as he headed back to my car. "I've actually been living with Nana, taking care of her. When she had to go to the hospital, I got this place. We weren't sure what to do with her house.""I'm sorry, I didn't—""It's okay, Jaynie. This place was a steal. Besides, Nana left me her house in her will, so once we clean the place out, I'll be moving back there.""What? That's wonderful! Congrats, Alex. I know you love it there." I couldn't stop myself from hugging him. Or feeling the slightest bit jealous. When our eyes met again, I stepped back and shut the driver's side door. I cleared my throat and my thoughts. "So, let's see what we've got.""Be careful of the first step." He held out his hand and helped me up to the front porch. He wrestled with the lock on the door and then it swung open into a clean living room. The carpet was definitely dated, and the walls needed a good coat of paint, but his modern leather and oak furniture minimized the noticeable eyesores. "Want something to drink?""Sure, whatever you're having." I glanced around, setting my purse on an end table. Typical masculine knickknacks decorated the few shelves on the walls: various sports paraphernalia, photos of Alex and his buddies, a couple of dusty mugs from a tavern in Florida.My eyes stopped on a photo of two young kids. A boy and a girl. The glass was cleaner than the rest of the photos, and the metal frame was brushed nickel rather than the standard black plastic frames on the others."That's us at Nana's pond." Alex handed me a glass of cola and picked up the frame. He took a sip of his own soda and put the frame back after a moment, snorting softly. "I shoved you into the water after she snapped the picture."I gulped. I had forgotten that part. That when Nana had lifted her camera, she'd told Alex to put his arm around me and smile. He hadn't wanted to hug me. Maybe I'd pretended all along that he liked hanging out with me.But he'd kept the picture. He'd kept it clean and prominently displayed.I took a sip of my drink and moved to sit on the sofa. The leather squeaked as I sank into the corner with a soft sigh. It was comfortable. So much so that I toed off my heels and curled my legs up underneath me. The heat of the afternoon sun streaming in the bare window behind me warmed the material, and I laid my head back for a moment and breathed deep."It's quiet here." I kept my eyes closed and smiled sadly. "I miss this."The sofa squeaked again, and the weight on the cushion next to me shifted."Me, too."For the longest time, neither of us talked. The only sound was the clinking of ice in our glasses and the occasional car driving by outside. I didn't want to move. I wished I could just curl
JT Thompkins Fishing has started on the second half of his 2025 season on the Elite Series. This week he just secured a top 5 fiinsh with an incredible bag of over 120 pounds for the 4 days. A tourney that saw 10 anglers achieve this feat and the all time largest bag was in jeapordy. The lake could only be the one and only Lake Fork in Texas. The show that this lake and these anglers put on may have rivaled any moment in sports over the weeked and possibly years of history on the Elite Series. It was an honor to have JT call in on his way to the nest stop on the Sabine River. We talk baits, his surrent streak, and the rest of the season with 4 events left. He has made us proud all year, and at this streak he is on he will have a hot finish and be a force to reckon with on all the bodies of water left on the schedule. Be sure to go check out all of his videos and give him a follow on all the social media platforms out there. Go Get Em JT!!!! We are here cheering loud!!www.trilogyoutdoorsmedia.comBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/trilogy-outdoors--5441492/support.
It's time for WEE Nation Reads with UMBC, starting our 2nd year of partnership with the Diverse Books Project. Today's interview is with Author Jamilah Thompkins-Bigelow, author of "Mommy's Khimar" Website: jamilahthewriter.com, IG: @authorjamilah, and Bluesky: authorjamilah.bsky.social This segment is supported by UMBC's Sherman Teacher Scholars Program, which serves as a resource to participating teachers and families in their Diverse Books Projects (DBP). This project aims to ensure that early childhood educators at their partner schools have access to high-quality, diverse children's books and opportunities to share ideas and insights about their use. Books identified by UMBC will be featured in our WEE Nation Reads with UMBC segment, which includes a reading of each of the selected books, children's music related to each book, and an interview with the author or publisher. Go to WEE Nation Radio for more information, or download our mobile app on Android and iPhones by searching "WEE Nation Radio" in your App Store. www.WEENationRadio.com.
In this episode of Nurse Converse, Shenell Thompkins is joined by Tiffany Cannon, who shares her powerful story of living with a Left Ventricular Assist Device (LVAD). At just 28, Tiffany experienced heart failure during pregnancy, leading to an emergency C-section and the life-changing decision to receive an LVAD. She opens up about the emotional toll, her return to nursing, and how her dual perspective as both a patient and nurse fuels her passion for advocacy, empathy, and patient empowerment. Tiffany's journey is one of resilience and hope, proving that heart disease is not the end—but a new beginning. >>One Nurse's Journey with LVAD (Left Ventricular Assistive Device)Jump Ahead to Listen: [02:17] Tiffany's journey to heart failure.[05:53] Heart failure diagnosis after childbirth.[09:23] Divine intervention in medical decisions.[13:25] Gratitude through life changes.[21:00] Bridging patient-nurse connection.[22:49] Advocacy and patient awareness.[26:18] Heart disease is not a death sentence.[29:09] Supporting nurses in their careers.Connect with Shenell on social media:Instagram: allonenurse_shenell TikTok: all_one_nurseFor more information, full transcript and videos visit Nurse.org/podcastJoin our newsletter at nurse.org/joinInstagram: @nurse_orgTikTok: @nurse.orgFacebook: @nurse.orgYouTube: Nurse.org
It is hard to believe that we are just on the other side of JT Thompkins rookie year on the Elite Series and this weekend he will be starting his sophomore season on the biggest stage in bass fishing. In an attempt to get himself some time away from bass fishing he has fallen into the grasps of duck hunting. So much so that he reached out to go shoot some clays and work on his form before his first event in Palatska, Florida, We had a great time out at Backwoods Quail Club.We had a lot of laughs and to be honest, this young man just gets it.......He is not gonna do anything without going all in and his attention to detail in his shooting speaks volume about his abaility on the water and to disect a fishery. We wish JT the best of luck this year and are sure to keep you informed of how his season progressess. Be sure to go to Fishing Chaos and get the app downloaded and registered for the 2025 Grand Strand Fishing Rodeo. We look forward to a fun 11 months and watching all the anglers battle it out for our incredible prixe pool with over $20k in prizes. Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/trilogy-outdoors--5441492/support.
In January 2002, 20-year-old Christopher Thompkins mysteriously vanished while working as a land surveyor in the woods near Ellerslie, Georgia. Walking just 50 feet behind his coworkers, he disappeared without a sound, leaving behind only a boot, scattered coins, and his tools near a barbed wire fence. Despite extensive searches using helicopters, dogs, and ground teams, no trace of him was ever found. Theories about his disappearance range from foul play and disorientation to supernatural or extraterrestrial involvement, yet none have been substantiated. Over 20 years later, his family continues to seek answers, but the case remains an unsolved enigma, haunting those involved and leaving behind one of Georgia's most baffling mysteries.The Jennifer Kesse case is a mysterious unsolved missing person case that began in January 2006. Jennifer Kesse was a 24-year-old woman living in Orlando, Florida. She disappeared under suspicious circumstances and has never been found.Here's a summary of the key details in the Jennifer Kesse case:Disappearance: Jennifer Kesse was last seen on the morning of January 24, 2006, when she left for work. She was a financial analyst and was expected at her workplace, but she never showed up. Her coworkers and family became concerned when they couldn't reach her.Abandoned Car: Jennifer's car, a black Chevy Malibu, was found abandoned at a nearby apartment complex a short distance from her home. It appeared to have been parked carefully, and her personal belongings, including her purse and cell phone, were missing. Surveillance footage from the complex showed an unknown person parking the car and walking away.Investigation: Law enforcement authorities conducted an extensive investigation, but the case went cold. Various leads and tips were followed, but no substantial breakthroughs occurred. The case was featured in the media, and a reward was offered for information, but Jennifer remained missing.Family Advocacy: Jennifer's family, particularly her parents, have been outspoken advocates for their daughter's case. They've worked tirelessly to keep the case in the public eye and to encourage potential witnesses to come forward with information.In this episode, we hear Jennifers story and how her family has never stopped fighting to try and bring her home.(commercial at 6:39)to contact me:bobbycapucci@protomail.comsource:Chilling link between missing Jennifer Kesse and geologist Daniel Robinson as her uncle slams cops for 'ignoring' clue | The US Sun (the-sun.com)
In January 2002, 20-year-old Christopher Thompkins mysteriously vanished while working as a land surveyor in the woods near Ellerslie, Georgia. Walking just 50 feet behind his coworkers, he disappeared without a sound, leaving behind only a boot, scattered coins, and his tools near a barbed wire fence. Despite extensive searches using helicopters, dogs, and ground teams, no trace of him was ever found. Theories about his disappearance range from foul play and disorientation to supernatural or extraterrestrial involvement, yet none have been substantiated. Over 20 years later, his family continues to seek answers, but the case remains an unsolved enigma, haunting those involved and leaving behind one of Georgia's most baffling mysteries.The Jennifer Kesse case is a mysterious unsolved missing person case that began in January 2006. Jennifer Kesse was a 24-year-old woman living in Orlando, Florida. She disappeared under suspicious circumstances and has never been found.Here's a summary of the key details in the Jennifer Kesse case:Disappearance: Jennifer Kesse was last seen on the morning of January 24, 2006, when she left for work. She was a financial analyst and was expected at her workplace, but she never showed up. Her coworkers and family became concerned when they couldn't reach her.Abandoned Car: Jennifer's car, a black Chevy Malibu, was found abandoned at a nearby apartment complex a short distance from her home. It appeared to have been parked carefully, and her personal belongings, including her purse and cell phone, were missing. Surveillance footage from the complex showed an unknown person parking the car and walking away.Investigation: Law enforcement authorities conducted an extensive investigation, but the case went cold. Various leads and tips were followed, but no substantial breakthroughs occurred. The case was featured in the media, and a reward was offered for information, but Jennifer remained missing.Family Advocacy: Jennifer's family, particularly her parents, have been outspoken advocates for their daughter's case. They've worked tirelessly to keep the case in the public eye and to encourage potential witnesses to come forward with information.In this episode, we hear Jennifers story and how her family has never stopped fighting to try and bring her home.(commercial at 6:39)to contact me:bobbycapucci@protomail.comsource:Chilling link between missing Jennifer Kesse and geologist Daniel Robinson as her uncle slams cops for 'ignoring' clue | The US Sun (the-sun.com)Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-epstein-chronicles--5003294/support.
In January 2002, 20-year-old Christopher Thompkins mysteriously vanished while working as a land surveyor in the woods near Ellerslie, Georgia. Walking just 50 feet behind his coworkers, he disappeared without a sound, leaving behind only a boot, scattered coins, and his tools near a barbed wire fence. Despite extensive searches using helicopters, dogs, and ground teams, no trace of him was ever found. Theories about his disappearance range from foul play and disorientation to supernatural or extraterrestrial involvement, yet none have been substantiated. Over 20 years later, his family continues to seek answers, but the case remains an unsolved enigma, haunting those involved and leaving behind one of Georgia's most baffling mysteries.The Jennifer Kesse case is a mysterious unsolved missing person case that began in January 2006. Jennifer Kesse was a 24-year-old woman living in Orlando, Florida. She disappeared under suspicious circumstances and has never been found.Here's a summary of the key details in the Jennifer Kesse case:Disappearance: Jennifer Kesse was last seen on the morning of January 24, 2006, when she left for work. She was a financial analyst and was expected at her workplace, but she never showed up. Her coworkers and family became concerned when they couldn't reach her.Abandoned Car: Jennifer's car, a black Chevy Malibu, was found abandoned at a nearby apartment complex a short distance from her home. It appeared to have been parked carefully, and her personal belongings, including her purse and cell phone, were missing. Surveillance footage from the complex showed an unknown person parking the car and walking away.Investigation: Law enforcement authorities conducted an extensive investigation, but the case went cold. Various leads and tips were followed, but no substantial breakthroughs occurred. The case was featured in the media, and a reward was offered for information, but Jennifer remained missing.Family Advocacy: Jennifer's family, particularly her parents, have been outspoken advocates for their daughter's case. They've worked tirelessly to keep the case in the public eye and to encourage potential witnesses to come forward with information.In this episode, we hear Jennifers story and how her family has never stopped fighting to try and bring her home.(commercial at 6:39)to contact me:bobbycapucci@protomail.comsource:Chilling link between missing Jennifer Kesse and geologist Daniel Robinson as her uncle slams cops for 'ignoring' clue | The US Sun (the-sun.com)
Miranda Rights, established by the Supreme Court in Miranda v. Arizona (1966), are constitutional safeguards that protect individuals from self-incrimination during custodial interrogation. These rights include the right to remain silent, the warning that anything said can be used against them in court, and the right to an attorney. The Miranda decision aimed to prevent coercive police practices and ensure that any waiver of rights is knowing, intelligent, and voluntary. Key case precedents have further shaped the understanding of Miranda Rights. Dickerson v. United States affirmed the constitutional basis of Miranda, while Berghuis v. Thompkins clarified that suspects must unambiguously invoke their rights. Custodial interrogation refers to questioning initiated by law enforcement after a person is taken into custody or deprived of their freedom. Miranda warnings are only required during custodial interrogation. A valid waiver of these rights must be knowing, intelligent, and voluntary. Exceptions to Miranda requirements exist, including the public safety exception and the impeachment exception. While supporters argue that Miranda Rights protect individual liberties and enhance fairness, critics contend that they impede effective policing. Empirical studies show mixed results on Miranda's impact. Overall, Miranda Rights and Custodial Interrogation are crucial aspects of Constitutional Law, representing the ongoing effort to balance individual liberties with effective law enforcement.
BASS made a big announcement this week that there were no longer gonna be entry fees for the Elite Series anglers. Many, including myself, were quick to celebrate before looking further into the announcement. The payouts were decreased drastically and we sit down with current Elite Angler, JT Thompkins to discuss. We also discuss the recent adventures in the OIFC Fall Brawl king tourney, where JT joined Team Trilogy Outdoors/Marshall's Marine for the day. We were not rewarded with a winning fish, but had a great time with great friends. JT also shares ome tips on breaking down a lake for someone new to FFS and some great points to start at. Thanks to JT for taking the time and we wish him the best of luck in 2025 and during his offseason as he works to secure sponors for the next year. Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/trilogy-outdoors--5441492/support.
Land of the Lost - Christopher ThompkinsBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/missing-persons-mysteries--5624803/support.
In January 2002, 20-year-old Christopher Thompkins mysteriously vanished while working as a land surveyor in the woods near Ellerslie, Georgia. Walking just 50 feet behind his coworkers, he disappeared without a sound, leaving behind only a boot, scattered coins, and his tools near a barbed wire fence. Despite extensive searches using helicopters, dogs, and ground teams, no trace of him was ever found. Theories about his disappearance range from foul play and disorientation to supernatural or extraterrestrial involvement, yet none have been substantiated. Over 20 years later, his family continues to seek answers, but the case remains an unsolved enigma, haunting those involved and leaving behind one of Georgia's most baffling mysteries.(commercial at 8:00)to contact me:bobbycapucci@protonmail.comBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-epstein-chronicles--5003294/support.
In January 2002, 20-year-old Christopher Thompkins mysteriously vanished while working as a land surveyor in the woods near Ellerslie, Georgia. Walking just 50 feet behind his coworkers, he disappeared without a sound, leaving behind only a boot, scattered coins, and his tools near a barbed wire fence. Despite extensive searches using helicopters, dogs, and ground teams, no trace of him was ever found. Theories about his disappearance range from foul play and disorientation to supernatural or extraterrestrial involvement, yet none have been substantiated. Over 20 years later, his family continues to seek answers, but the case remains an unsolved enigma, haunting those involved and leaving behind one of Georgia's most baffling mysteries.(commercial at 8:00)to contact me:bobbycapucci@protonmail.com
Send us a textAward-winning author and educator Jamila Tompkins-Bigelow joins us for an insightful discussion that promises to enrich your understanding of cultural diversity and language appreciation. Discover how her unique upbringing, with deep roots in both West African and African American heritage, has shaped her remarkable storytelling. Jamila opens up about the impact of growing up in a multilingual household and the significance of name pronunciation, as highlighted in her beloved book "Your Name is a Song." This conversation will leave you reflecting on the importance of valuing different languages and accents, especially those often marginalized.In another compelling segment, Jamila shares her journey from a dedicated teacher to a celebrated children's book author, driven by the desire to see Black Muslim kids represented in literature. Her book "Sister Friend" is a poignant tale that addresses the challenges of being different in a school setting, offering readers a glimpse into the lives of Black Muslim children through the story of Amina and her new friend Sundas. This episode also explores how Jamila's work fosters inclusive conversations and understanding among kids of all backgrounds. Don't miss the chance to learn about valuable educational resources available on her website, designed to support teachers and families in continuing these vital discussions. COME SAY Hey!! Instagram: @cultrallyjebeh_ Facebook: @JebehCulturalConsulting Pinterest: @Jebeh Cultural Consulting LinkedIn: @Jebeh Edmunds Leave a Review on our Podcast! We value your feedback!Save time and effort with our informative newsletter that offers strategies, tools, resources, and playlists from the culturally competent and socially just educator and creator Jebeh Edmunds! https://jebehedmunds.com/digitalcourse/email-signup/Join my course today and start creating a more inclusive and culturally competent workplace.Enroll here: https://jebeh-edmunds.mykajabi.com/offers/LMwntaji/checkoutStay connected with our newsletter for strategies, tools, resources, and playlists from your culturally competent and socially just educator, Jebeh Edmunds!Sign Up Now https://jebehedmunds.com/digitalcourse/email-signup/
Jerry & Amanda discuss a strange missing persons case from Georgia.
Send me a one-way text about this episode! I'll give you a shout out or answer your question on a future episode.I've got another 2-for-1 Double Homemaker Portrait Episode for you!
Elite Series angler JT Thompkins has been disqualified from the Humminbird Bassmaster Elite Series at St. Lawrence River for failure to pass a truth verification examination. As a result, Thompkins will receive zero points toward Progressive Bassmaster Angler of the Year and Dakota Lithium Elite Series Rookie of the Year standings. The truth verification exam was administered during the event Friday, and Thompkins failed to pass exam sections that pertain to Rule C3 ii a and Rule C3 (xiv). Rule C3 ii a states anglers “cannot gather waypoints or specific fishing locations i.e. creek, river, area of the lake, etc. from any source that is not publicly available.” CLICK HERE for Randy Blaukats Youtube channel: https://www.youtube.com/@UClV2l-LbzNwjdFXOLEmFpXQ CLICK HERE for Get Ur Fish On Youtube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/@UC5M0Nw7NfoOH3NN2mVGT8fA --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/dieter-melhorn/support
Veteran Charity WWW.NRATCO.ORG Marketing Strategist https://linktr.ee/stinctheceo Award-Winning Anointed Radio Network is a Las Vegas Christian Radio Station provides a platform for all Christians to come and share about their businesses or talents. The Anointed Radio Motto is that (It is time to unite) every Wednesday 6 pm-7 pm (Pacific Standard Time (PST) Download the Anointed Radio Network App from the Google Play or Apple App Store. www.anointedradio.com/ Social Media: Twitter:@lvanointedradio Instagram:@lvanointedradio Facebook:@ Anointed Radio Business inquires email: Lvanointedradio@gmail.com Watch us on Roku TV on the Anointed Radio Network Channel --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/anointedradio/support
Nightcrawling the Triplets By Bardot1990. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Night Crawling with the Thompkins Triplets "He say I 'posed to suck he dick when he get here. He say he got a big un," Beulah Thompkins commented offhandedly as she scrubbed a berry stain from a white linen shirt. "Dey all say dat," her sister Miriam snipped back. "What he gon' giv'n you if'n you does?" Her dark hands were lathered in lye soap. "I sucked his dick dat one time, you 'member I tole you? Down by de back fence?" interjected Dinah, the third sister, ignoring Miriam's query. "It ain't l'il. I've sucked bigger, d'ough."The three slave women were identical triplets, well past puberty, and more than familiar with the Southern poontang tradition imposed upon comely young black women in northeast Louisiana. This late summer afternoon found them hand washing the Thompkins family clothing in the creek using smooth stones and homemade soap. They gossiped as they worked. Beulah Thompkins' comment about Bennett Leone's impending visit was considered of no more consequence than a treatise on owl migration patterns. "You sucked his dick? What he giv'n you?" Beulah asked Miriam. "A bad case of jizz breff!" Dinah laughed. "Shut up, Dinah." Miriam snapped. "Leastways I only sucked his dick an' sent him home. You sucked his dick an' den you offered he de poosy to boot! fo' free!" "Pissh. My poosy need jist as much relief as he dick. And so do your'n, tell de troof an' shame de Debil! Why ah'm-a let him shoot his foofy in my mouf' an' don't get no joy on my own account? You sound stupid." "Dat ain't de point. You know dat ain't de point. Supposin' Marse Tommy find out you been givin' some-a his poosy to Marse Bennett? For free? He don't like Marse Bennett no how on account of that time Marse Bennett made Chollie whup him down to the swimmin' hole." "I wish'd I coulda been dere to see dat!" Beulah mused absentmindedly. "Well I was dere", Miriam continued. "An' you ain't seen nuttin' tell you sees a chocolate lass cut loose on a white boy. Chollie whupped dat crackuh's ass up one side an' down de udder. Some-a de udder white boys went to help Marse Tommy but Marse Bennett said he'd sic Chollie on dem, too. Come right out and said he'd fight on Chollie's side! Dat made 'em gulp back some tobacky, lemme tell you!" "Lawdy! Dat wuz sev'm years ago! I'll suck Marse Bennett's dick six ways from Sunday if he'll sic Chollie on ole Tommy one mo' again!" Beulah smirked. "Bof' 'um's grown now. Chollie only got away wid it 'cause dey's boys. He take and go upside Marse Tommy's haid now and Marse Bennett cain't protect him like he did back den. Marse Tommy'll get up a posse an' go an' lynch Chollie, you watch and see. String him right up and Benny cain't he'p him." Dinah noted. "Dat Chollie is de one whose dick you oughta be lookin' at suckin'", Miriam observed with a note of satisfaction. "Dass one good-lookin' blackie." "I know, right? But de onliest time we sees him is at church. An' he don't come half de time. He stay home wid' his Pa." "You let me catch him alone one time, jist once. I'll put it on him so good he won't never wanna go back to de Leone's. He-a change his name to Thompkins!" Miriam vowed. "Yeh, yeh. We know. Yo' poosy is de sunshine in de sky. I'd like to see you to prove it, Miss Braggadodiodo." Beulah challenged. "Oh ho! You got a dick I can wrap my Priscilla around? Pull it out. She'll have you screamin' my name out loud." "Not my dick. Oh no! Marse Bennett's dick, when it get here" "I thought you wuz de one gwine suck his dick? What my Priscilla got to do wit' yo bid'ness?" "You de one always braggin' about she. Let's see what she can do. Less'n youse skeered." "Skeered-a what? Whiteboy dick? Please." Dinah intervened. "She's right, you know. You de one always make it seem like yo poosy don't stink. 'N lawd knows I smells yo fish market ever' day. Yit when de big dicks come to callin', you always got sump'n else to do. I bet yo' throat see mo' dick den yo' poochipap do." "Youse a damn lie. My Priscilla done seen mo' dick den you an' Beulah put togedder. I jist don't go runnin' off at the mouf about it. Bof' you heffahs talk too much." "Who you done put it on, den? Besides Marse Tommy an' Freddy Harkness?" "Dass fo' me to know an you to find out." "Like I said: All mouf an' no poochipap." Miriam decided to change tactics. "What's he gon' gimme to let him slip his dick up into my Priscilla? He gimme a peppermint ball to suck his dick that other time. My Priscilla is worf' a whole lot more'n dat." "He white! He ain't gotta give you nuttin'! Marse Tommy been all up in yo poosy, too, an' all he giv'n you was a snootful o' jizz!" "Dass diffunt. Marse Tommy own dis place an' you and me bofe. Marse Ben is a visitor. An' he ain't 'posed to be here no how, seein' as how Marse Tommy don' like him. A gennulman always leaves a lady wif a 'commodation for her time an' talents." "'Commodation my ass. You jist skeered. 'Commodations is fo' white womens' poosies. Yo poosy is on call." "So what you wan' me to do?" Miriam asked. "Show you how to suck dick? Ain't I already did that? It ain't me who made dese cheek-poke arrangements." "I, I, wanna suck his dick." Beulah said hesitantly. "So who's stopping you?" "I, I, want y'all to help me, is all." "You need help sucking a dick? What's ailin' you?" "I, I, want y'all to pitch in." "Oh I get it!" chirped Dinah. "You want to put it on him! Priscilla, Patricia and Pamela all at the same time!" (Priscilla, Patricia and Pamela were the given names for their respective pussies) "Yeah." "You tryna kill him", observed Miriam warily. "I'm tryna see his face when you whip Priscilla on him, since she so good." "Trust me. He won't be awake for long. He might faint. You better let him taste Pamela first 'cause if you don't Pamela is goin' dry." "You can trust me. Pammie ain't never dry", Beulah countered confidently. Bennett Leone, the white scion of a tobacco farm two miles distant, waited until Annie Leone's easy snoring permeated their shared loft bedroom. He hadn't bothered his sister for her sex this night, preferring to conserve his strength for his planned late evening foray over at the Thompkins farm. Annie noticed his unusual reticence. She correctly deduced that he had other plans. She knew Ben well; her brother didn't just pass up free pussy. "Ever' time his dick gets hard he wants to get it wet", she noted. "He don't waste no 'rections." Rather than challenge him on the matter, Annie rolled over and promptly fell asleep. In the morning Ben's dick would be resting against her upper lip, seeking the warmth of her throat like always, no matter whose pussy juices graced his shaft the night before. Ben played his part in this charade admirably. He nestled into his bed until he found a comfy position. As time passed he offered up some measured snores, softly at first, but deepening in timbre with each iteration. Annie noted his fake snoring with a wan shake of her blonde tresses. "Go fuck whichever heffah suits you, Benny. Jeez! My pussy needs some rest anyway. It's not like we're married." While he waited for Annie to drift off, Ben ruminated about Beulah Thompkins. The black girl and her family had been to church this past Sunday, sitting up in the balcony with the rest of the slaves. She wore a white ankle-length frock buttoned up to her neck. Ben couldn't help but imagine the svelte curves underlying her Victorian raiment, the luscious milk chocolate tits, her velvet pubic mound. All three of those Thompkins triplets were fine as hell. They sucked a mean dick, too. Tommy Thompkins didn't like sharing them, selfish bastard. After church Ben sought Beulah's attention. Catching her eye, he gave her the time honored come on, that is, he poked his tongue into his cheek twice to simulate female fellatio. Beulah, surprised at being thus selected, smiled and dropped her eyes demurely. They were in church, after all! When she raised her head again she sought Ben's gaze and poked her tongue into her cheek just once, signifying acceptance. Ben looked around. Scores of parishioners were laughing and milling about while conversing. His surreptitious cross-crowd conversation with the black girl went unnoticed in the hubbub. He mouthed the word "Wednesday" voicelessly across the racial chasm between them. (Even after church, the races didn't mingle). Beulah nodded her assent. And that was that. They would meet at the Thompkins swimming hole. Ben couldn't risk being caught on Tommy's farm after hours. Annie's measured snoring brought Ben back to the present. He peeked out at his sister. In the nighted gloom he could see that she'd snuggled her shoulders and tits under her blanket, but her naked ass poked out to the very edge of her bed. Her hairy labia swelled from between her ass cheeks, barely concealing her pink slit. It gleamed wetly. Annie's rounded ass rose and ebbed tremulously with each breath. Ben's penis surged at the sight. "Beulah better be good. Look at what I'm passing up!" Ben mused silently. He stepped to his sister with his erect member in hand and eased his pudenda back and forth along the horizontal line of her crevice. Unconsciously, Annie drew her right leg up to afford him better access to her pinkness. Even asleep, she was used to such intrusions. Ben eased forward until his helmet disappeared into her slippery cooze. Rather than plunge further in, Ben gripped his shaft and began to masturbate. He stroked his shaggy foreskin sensually against Annie's pussy lips, relishing the sticky sound of their intercourse and the sweet aroma thereof. All too soon Ben's jism sprayed forth in fits and spurts. "That's it. That's good. Now I won't cum too fast with Beulah. I cain't have her telling her sisters I cain't fuck." Ben pulled his sticky wet cock back into his drawers, then threw on his coveralls and climbed out of the loft. He sneaked out the front door and soon disappeared into the darkness. Alone in the loft, Annie reached down between her legs to scoop some of Ben's jism. She drew it to her lips and sniffed it. "Whoever it is he's fucking, he don't want her to think he cums too fast", she correctly surmised. Then she rolled over and dropped back off to sleep. Ben hurried down the darkened dirt road to the Thompkins place two miles distant. He didn't bother to disguise his egress. Any slave catchers about would quickly notice his race and allow him to pass. He wouldn't need to dissemble his intent until he approached the Thompkins farm. Ben knew of a path that avoided the Thompkins' hound dogs. It led to the Thompkins' swimming hole where, undoubtedly, Beulah would be waiting. Ben hoped she'd been thoughtful enough to bring a blanket. Though he'd only asked for a blowjob, poontang was always a viable option at these encounters. . Arriving at the Thompkins' swimming hole, Ben looked about cautiously. A full moon bathed the pond in twilight. There were shadows at the tree line, but the small sandy beach leading into the water was fully exposed. "Bea?" Ben called out cautiously. "Bea? You here?" "Yassuh" came Beulah's soft reply as she stepped into the gladelight from the woods. Ben grinned. Beulah was naked from the waist up. Her tits bounced saucily in the moonlight, perky ebony nipples upturned and shiny. Her breasts were much bigger than when he'd last seen them. Plus, she'd thought to bring a blanket. "Yes!" As she approached him, Beulah wiggled free of her skirt. By the time she reached Ben she was fully and spectacularly naked. Ben took a moment to regard her. She had an hourglass waist, full dark lips and an impish smile. A curly patch of black pubic hair outlined her vagina. She didn't look as muscular as Charlie's sister Ruthie or his cousin Tilly. She looked soft. Curvy. Like a girl. The Thompkins triplets pressed their natural hair straight with a hot comb. Ben didn't know how Beulah did it, but she wore her hair parted a little off to the left and straight down to her shoulders. It bounced in conjunction with her breasts when she walked. Unlike a white woman's hair, however, if Beulah's hair became wet for any reason it would draw up into an unmanageable kinky mass. Beulah knew this. She wasn't planning on swimming anytime soon. Whether she sweated some naps into it this night depended entirely upon Ben. "Damn, girl! You look good!" Ben opened. "I know." Beulah replied. She didn't offer a compliment in return. "I see you brung a blanket. You got some plans?" Ben asked disingenuously. "I might. If'n you don't mind?" "I don't mind at all! Spread it out here. Right here away from the water." Beulah did as she was told. "You brung my lollipop?" she asked innocently. "What lollipop?" Ben was taken aback. "De lollipop you wuz braggin' about in church." "Oh! This!" Ben flumped his heavy cock from his pants. It reeked of fresh semen and sticky pussy. Beulah scrunched her face up. "Who said anything about yo' dick? You tole me you had a store-bought lollipop. Dass what de cheek poke mean." Ben was confused. "No. I, I meant, you know what I meant. Stop playin' around, girl. I come all this way and, " Beulah smiled up at him. "I'm jist playin' wit chu," she said. Turning her attention to his exposed penis Beulah commented: "My! You done growed since de last time I seen Mr. Petey Winkle! You 'member dat time? All us wuz playin' in de water out here? We wuz kids. Look at you! I guess you think you a man, now, hey?" She took his cock in her hand and caressed it. Predictably, it hardened and lengthened. "Nice!" she said. "Who you been doin' it to? Dis dick smell like wet pooncey." "It always smell like that. You don't like that smell?" Ben ventured. "It's aiight, I guess. It might smell better if it was my poosy on dere." "We can make that happen, too, if you want." Ben noted hopefully. "Nope," Beulah said. "You said you wanted yo' lollipop licked. An' dass all I'm fi'nda do." "Then why'd you bring the blanket?" Ben queried. "You'a see." Beulah answered. She knelt before him and took his penis into her mouth. The scent of Annie's recently plumbed labia majora shrieked into Beulah's nostrils. She drew back. "Whew! Whoever's poosy dis is on here, it sho' is pow'ful!" Ben ignored her comment. He closed his eyes and pressed Beulah's head back into service. Soon he was roiling his hips in little swirlets, plunging his cock down the black girl's throat. The scent of her fellatio mixed with the scent of his earlier sleep creep to produce a uniquely alluring aroma. Ben pulled his cock from her mouth, bent and kissed her. They shared tongues lavishly for a moment before Ben stood and re-inserted his dick between her lips. Beulah grasped his thighs and chickenheaded him slowly. Occasionally she took a long, lavish lick up and down his shaft, marveling at its veiny texture, becoming more and more intoxicated by the masculine odor of his thick, meaty phallus. Pammie was soaked and quivering. Bea flickered her tongue against the sensitive nerves under his cockhead like a snake. This drove Ben into paroxysms of electric delight. He pressed his cock as deep into her throat as it would go. When he withdrew his cock was coated in bubbly foam. A rising tide of crackling heat lightning accumulated behind his eyelids. "If I cum now, how long before I can cum again?" he wondered. "Oh Lordy! Hold back, Benny! Keep it right there!" Ben bent and kissed her again. This time their kiss was deeper, more sensual. Her ample lips differed from the white girls he'd kissed. They were thicker, more supple, more akin to a woman's labia. Moreover, her mouth tasted of creamy coffee laden with cane sugar. Her lips were heart-shaped, her lower lip being slightly larger than her upper lip and dimpled at its mid-section. She kissed with the suckle of a freshly minted vagina bursting alive into volcanism. Reluctantly, Ben straightened and offered his dick to her again. He watched with amazement as those transcendent lips widened to engulf him. "Only Annie sucks dick like this. Bea's pussy must be crazy hot!" While Ben was devising a plan to get Beulah splayed out, ankles-to-earlobes, on the blanket, a second wettened heat source sent rivulets of electricity scorching up from his groin. Ben looked down. Amazingly, Beulah's sister Dinah had come from nowhere, knelt, and added her silky lips to the fray. She looked up at him with a wicked smile. Beulah looked at her sister with approval. She continued to nurse at his pud while Dinah chewed small hickies into Ben's shaft with her teeth. Ben closed his eyes and let the sisters have at it. Two Beulahs! Each identical! He couldn't tell them apart. If they switched positions, he couldn't tell whose name to shout out during the money shot. Ben caressed both their heads and encouraged them to continue. His dick steamed with surge as he struggled to suppress his ejaculate. The longer he held out, the bigger the explosion would be when he finally released. As Ben squirmed in the agony of his pre-ejaculatory extremis, a third mouth sent shockwaves up his frame. It was Miriam, the third triplet. She, too, was naked. He'd hit the jackpot! Miriam wore her hair pulled back into a girlish ponytail. It's the only way Ben could tell her apart from her siblings and, indeed, she wore her hair differently for this exact purpose. She took up a position opposite Dinah on the other side of Ben's shaft and nibbled him further into submission. This was just too much. Ben felt like a gymnast holding an impossibly unnatural position on the rings. His muscles burned. His body clenched as rigid as any penis. Fires raged from his eyeballs. His knees felt like jelly, unable to support his weight. Finally, Ben surrendered to the inevitable. He fired a massive burst of jism against Beulah's tongue, bucking and straining with the effort. Soon her mouth was awash in spunk. It dripped like honey from her supple lips and her teeth. She held her mouth open so that her sisters and Ben could see his jism accumulate into a tapioca-like puddle on her tongue. Then she smiled and blithely swallowed his issue down. "Move, girl", Miriam ordered in her best "take-charge" fashion. "You gon' let his dick get soft before I gets my chance." Miriam's brusqueness broke Ben's post-orgasmic reverie. "It's my turn at the tip", Dinah interrupted. "I wuz here 'fore you was." "You gon' has to wait. Bea done drained his dick. You don' know how to suck no drained dick. If we has to wait on you we'll be here all night. Lemme get him hard again and den you kin suck him all you want. He won't be in no rush to shoot his jizz again, not after that pile he just unloaded on Bea." Dutifully, Beulah ceded her spot to Miriam. Beulah took up Miriam's position along Ben's lumbering shaft. Now in the catbird's seat, Miriam paused to sniff the air dramatically. "Dang, girl!" Miriam commented to Beulah. "Pamela sho' is payin' off! She sho' ain't dry. You wasn't lying 'bout dat much. Hey, I bet you Pammie can get him hard faster'n I can, you reckon?" "He ain't axed for Pammie, Miri. I give him what he axed fuh." "Just cause he ain't axed for Pammie don' mean we cain't put Pammie to good use. I ain't seen the fella yet as don't want a sloppy wet piece-a prime poosy, even if he ain't got the sense to axe fuh it. An' you needthe practice, anyways. Stand up." Beulah did as she was told. Of equals, Miriam was the most equal sister. "Raise yo' leg up. Like this." Beulah complied. "Whew! You smell like a buncha dicks been up in you already! You smell dat, Di?" Dinah smirked. "Shut up, Miri. Pammie jist wet is all. Bea been suckin' dick. You ack like cain't nobody's poosy get riled up but your'n." "I'm just sayin'," replied Miriam. Miriam positioned Beulah directly facing Ben, still woozy and swaying from his mammoth earlier splatter. She took Ben's limp penis and positioned it awkwardly between Beulah's labia, centered at the entrance to her hole. Using her index finger, she pushed Ben's spent member up into her sister's pussy. It slid easily inside. Pammie was slick with the lubrication of passion. "Now squeeze," Miriam said. Beulah clenched her pussy lips together. In doing so she drew Ben's cock deeper into her snatch. She stretched him like a rubber dildo. "Again." Miriam ordered. Ben groaned. This hurt. "Don't squeeze that hard, Bea! You wanna kill him? Or do you wanna get him rousted up agin? Suck at him with Pammie, don't yank. Like this." Miriam pulled Ben's penis from Beulah's pussy and took it into her own mouth. She suckled at it tenderly, as a baby nursing a nipple, laving it with her tongue and coating it with extravagant bubbles of spittle. "Go soft at first, Bea. When it get hard you can go faster", she advised. "Why you so concerned?" Beulah asked. "Because I need him to be rock hard when Priscilla time come, dat's why! "Well, why you ain't whupped Priscilla on him already then?" "Because you needs dah prackis more'd I duz. Dat's why. Stop axin' dumb questions an' hotch yo' stankin' poosy on over here. See here? Look, he already giv'n a little twitch. Push it up in there. Yeh, like that. See? He comin' around." Pammie closed around Ben's dick again. All three sisters watched, fascinated, while Beulah roiled her vagina in circlets, twisting Ben's foreskin in spirals against the meaty flesh beneath. The heated merger their genitalia produced a smoky, decadent aroma that Miriam and Dinah found titillating. Both of their overheated purple vaginas began to moisten and drip. Beulah dropped her leg to the ground, standing to the task at hand. Ben's cock had regained sufficient tumescence that the fornicating pair could just grip each other by their respective asses and grind. Both of them stared down the line of their torsos at the dick twisting obscenely into Pammie's aching furry love lips. Beulah began to finish each spiraling insertion with a quick in/out shimmy that released Ben's foreskin from its rat-tail spinner and allowed her clit a gratuitous swipe against his crimson pubic mound. Beulah began to tremble and sweat. The presence of her sisters was no longer a concern. She was adrift in the ocean of sexual prurience only brought about by a thick, shaggy cock. Beulah's world became laser-focused on Pammie's wants and needs. "Rub me this way, Bea", Pammie advised. Beulah complied. "Pull back slow and hit him hard, Bea!" Pammie ordered. Beulah complied. "I just wanna suck at him, Bea. Oh! Lemme Suck!" Pammie moaned. And Beulah complied. Pammie's curly-haired lips nurtured and suckled at Ben's pulsating dick. "All the way to the back, Bea! Now hit it right there! And grind!" Pammie demanded. Beulah did as she was told. Pammie expanded and contracted about Ben's pole with great bursts of succulent lust. Having recently cum, Ben surged into her with power and dexterity, unencumbered by the fear of a pre-mature release. He chortled at Beulah's "I'm about to cum!" face. Turnabout was fair play. Even when he noticed Beulah's sisters lapping at his balls Ben continued to punish Pammie for Beulah's earlier impertinence. He pounded her relentlessly. "Ah! fuck!" Pammie screamed (metaphorically) as she locked tight about Ben's cock, sending innumerable spastic vaginal quivers up and down its length. "Feed it to me Benny, I need to taste it!" In response, Ben turned Beulah around and fucked her doggystyle while guiding her forward, binding her wrists behind her with his strong hands. Pammie continued to scream and beg for succor. With the right sort of ears one could hear her pleadings in the sticky mishmash of Ben's conquest. Pammie unleashed pussy fart after pussy fart as she dealt with the nuclear explosions Ben unleashed inside her chocolate liquid heat. Miriam and Dinah laughed to hear Pammie's indelicate pussy flatulence. "I hope dat wasn't de real thing, girl!" It sure sounded real. Beulah wasn't paying attention. She was unmoored from reality, basking in the glow of her own walking pussy thunder. Pammie raced up and down the arc of Ben's muscular scythe. She was on a mission to coat herself in his love honey and so complete their assignation with drip. Ben, though, had other ideas. There were two more pussies here in need of dick mastery. If not, they wouldn't have come. Besides, he doubted if even Tommy Thompkins had the wherewithal to take on all three triplets at once. If he had, he certainly would have bragged about it before now. Pammie was trembling out the last vestiges of her passion before him. Her owner, Beulah, was splayed out in the blanket, rounded ass in the air, head down, quaking uncontrollably. Pammie, too, was gasping for breath, quivering open and shut about his cock, pressing him for fertilization. "Git down here you two", Ben ordered the other sisters. He lined Dinah and Miriam up on either side of Beulah, asses up, heads down, arms stretched forward. Beulah slumped, now blind with passion. She was exhausted. Ben was still rock hard inside Pammie, roiling up her foam. It didn't look as if Pammie was going to dine on his love honey. Ben wasn't even breathing hard. Ben withdrew his cock from Pammie's luxuriant grasp. She sent him on his way with a burgeoning cum bubble that popped when it encountered Beulah's kinky pubic hair. Beulah fell over sideways. She opened her thighs to the night air. Waves of heat rose expansively from her mound. Now Ben sidled up behind Dinah and inserted himself. Patricia smiled open and welcomed him inside with an expressive sigh of anticipation. Dinah's ass wobbled as Ben's cock peeled Patricia wide and cruised past her cocoa pussy lips and into her core. "Oh. Shit." Dinah whispered. Ben gripped both of her buttocks in his manly hands. He massaged them as he established an erotic dance rhythm with Patricia. Watching his penis surge deep and deeper from above, Ben again felt that primordial, pre-orgasmic stickiness in his belly, that silky march up the plateau of ecstasy to ultimate completion. "It's too soon!" he thought. "There's another one here! I have to do all three! Calm down, Benny!" His dick had other ideas. Patricia differed from Pamela in that she was deeper, an older soul, less frantic, more accommodating. Patricia made Ben feel more like a man and less like a boy on the verge of becoming a man. Patricia said, "Come on in. Sit down. Spend some time with me. Kiss me. Lick me. Sniff me. Suck me. Fuck me. You like me? Good. Let me caress you. You look like you've had a long day." Merging with Patricia was an act of union, not an act of dominance. Her sticky vaginal song validated penises with comfort. She was solace personified. She wasn't competition. If Ben came pre-maturely, Patricia didn't laugh. Patricia simply said, "Whew! That was nice! You're so good! so big! Let's do it again, now." Her confidence in him was infectious. It was the thing that most precipitated Ben's pre-orgasmic march. Dinah's strident moans didn't hurt the process, either. Miriam was a little put off to be just a spectator at Dinah's love fest. What if he came inside Patricia and couldn't get it up again? Priscilla was a demanding agitator, a dominator, a vast chasm of rampant carnality primed to detonate and implode at a moment's notice. She wasn't used to being left out in the cold. Miriam consoled herself with the maxim "He's saving the best for last". Priscilla didn't give a shit about maxims. Priscilla wanted dick. She wanted fresh dick, too, not spongy, already-been-chewed, grouchy ass, "don't touch me, bitch!" dick. Miriam found herself becoming more and more anxious as she watched Patricia weave her exotic charms up and down the length of Benny's love muscle. "She's gon' make him cum, I jist know it!" Miriam noticed, too, that Beulah was coming around. She seemed to have recovered somewhat from her debilitating orgasm and was taking an interest in Ben and Dinah's ongoing tryst. Fuck this shit." Priscilla snorted indignantly. "What do you want me to do?" Miriam mewled. Get up off you ass. Somebody is sure to come looking for us before I gets mine." Priscilla continued. "I cain't just move Dinah out of the way. It's her turn!" Miriam fumed. "He got a tongue, don't he?" Priscilla suggested. "Oh. Yeah." Miriam consented. Stung into action by Priscilla's uncompromising demands, Miriam stood and theatrically straddled Dinah's shoulder blades facing Ben. She hooked her thumbs into the backs of her hips and shoved her pelvis forward. She preened Priscilla's bushy black triangle there for Ben's consideration, as if he'd taken far too long to consider her, and he'd better damn well take her into account soon or else she was leaving. Ben looked at Miriam curiously through poosy-clouded lenses. "What?" he queried breathlessly, communicating with his eyes. "Lick it", Miriam said aloud. "Lick it? Now?" Ben replied, again with his eyes. "Did, did, did I studder? Lick it!" Miriam snarled in a tone bereft of any hint of racial subservience. Shocked into compliance, Ben leaned forward and nuzzled his nose into Priscilla's fragrant curly patch even as he continued to hump Dinah's rump. "I ain't say sniff it. I said lick it." Miriam ordered. Out popped Ben's tongue. Miriam gripped the back of his head brusquely. From there Priscilla took over. She gripped Ben's tongue with her pliant, prehensile pussy lips and tugged at it, let it slip north to tickle Miriam's clit and then roiled it side to side against her sugar walls. Miriam groaned. "That's more like it", Priscilla said. Now Miriam began to service Priscilla at the tip of Ben's tongue. He continued to fuck Dinah, but Priscilla quickly took control of their sexual conversation. She was selfish like that. None of the triplets were surprised at this turn of events. Two of the triplets, however, were astounded at the next move. Without being noticed, Beulah loomed up behind Ben. She was smaller than he. That didn't stop her from gripping Ben by the hips and driving Pammie up between his buttocks as if Pammie were a cock and Ben's ass was Pammie's chosen orifice. She caught him on the downstroke and shoved Pammie so far up as to brush against Ben's cornhole, where her throbbing clit probed for entry. Pammie's forceful momentum drove Ben's cock into Patricia's maw with greater impetus on the upstroke. Thus, all three triplets were in play. Ben was shocked. "All three?" Yes, all three. Pammie humped Ben. Ben humped Patricia. Priscilla sucked Ben's tongue. None of the triplets knew Ben's dick by its given name. (He called his dick "Sir"). Choice epithets filled the surrounding glade. Ben gritted his teeth. This was going to make for some story tomorrow when he and Charlie were sweating in the fields. "Man up, Benny", advised Sir. They fucked in this manner until, predictably, Priscilla called for deeper penetration, thus mandating a change in position. "Fuck this half-ass pussy licking. I need some dick." Priscilla complained. "Okay! Okay!" Miriam conceded. "Dinah, I'm ready." Miriam said aloud, at Priscilla's behest. "Okay. Hold on a sec," Dinah conceded. "Benny? Honey? Go a little, faster. I'm, almost there." "Now, Dinah," Miriam ordered. Dinah ignored her. She was on the verge of perfection. Priscilla could kiss her ass, selfish ho. "Dinah!" Miriam persisted. "Bitch!" Dinah exploded. "Ain't you heard me say I'se almost there? I ain't none-a yo' ho. I'm-a get mine the same as you. Hush yo puffy n' let me finish!" It wasn't often that one of the sisters put Miriam in her place. When it happened, Miriam pouted for days. "She'll come around," noted Dinah. She urged Ben to intensify his efforts. "Keep goin', Benny, I'm, Oh harder, that's it. Put it, right, in, There! Oh!" Patricia seized up suddenly and hurtled Dinah into the nighted abyss without a parachute. She exploded into light shards that slowly twinkled earthward, leaving swirly smoke contrails in their wake. "Oh, oh, oh, oh. Fuck me! Fuck me you son'o bitch Fuck! The theatrics of her climax cowed her sisters into silence. "Wow. Look at that." Dinah bucked and juked like a hellhound unhinged. Miriam leapt away from her standing position astride Dinah's shoulders. Beulah paused in her assault on Ben's behind to watch. Without losing Patricia's grip on Ben's dick, Dinah scissored her legs acrobatically, spun and swirled back onto her shoulder blades. She fucked Ben from the missionary position, legs up and spread wide, all the while screeching her passion into the night. She arched her back and lifted Ben's body entirely up into the air so that their genitalia served as their only point of contact. Ben was never so deep in her pussy. His weight smashed his balls against her taint and flattened her rounded ass cheeks. He flailed his arms and legs for balance against his awkward position atop her hips. With one last gasp and a mammoth springboard effort, Dinah hurled the young man off her body. He landed on his feet. Dinah did a somersault, then bounced up like a naked boxer, tits wobbling akimbo. She shimmied her shoulders, shook her hair loose and spin-jabbed her fists cockily, as with a speed bag. She looked askance at her sister Miriam. "Now, hussy. Top dat," she challenged. That's when Ben realized that the sisters were in competition. And he was their chosen foil. "I'll be doggoned!" Something had to be done about that unwarranted scenario. "I ain't none-a none of these bitches hoe", grumbled Sir. With that, Ben snatched Miriam up and made her assume the position. Dinah had cum, not he. Miriam protested weakly. She wanted to mount and ride, that being Priscilla's favored position. Ben twirled her back to doggystyle. "Git down here, I say." It was time to show these heffahs who the Big Dog was. His dick still lunged upward from his sac at a sixty-degree angle, magnificently erect, unyielding, uncircumcised and potent. Ben drew himself up to his full height so that these three Negresses could witness his rampant virility. He'd already left two of them lurching on the ground in ecstasy. Now he intended to soil each of these pussies with seed and let these bitches worry about the consequences later on. If they got pregnant, who gave a fuck? "I'm white", he reminded himself. "That's what I'M talkin' about", groused Sir. Ben mounted Miriam from behind. After using his dick to paint both of her southern cracks, he probed forward and proceeded to fuck her with wild abandon, first in one hole and then the other. He tortured her with innumerable power shots, driving her forward on the blanket and out into the grass. He stood her up while continuing to hump her from the rear mount. She climaxed explosively, like a voodoo dancer, but Ben whirled her around and made her kneel and suck his dick anyway, heedless of her post-coital tremor. When she finally could take no more, he called her sisters over and made them suckle at his root, too, making sure to wipe Priscilla's southern juices on their cheeks and lips. When he felt his jism burgeoning up from his testes, he stepped away from Dinah and Beulah's tandem fellatio, snatched Miriam's limp thighs open and poured himself into Priscilla with gusto. Her pussy bubbled obscenely with his milky seed, like a Yellowstone lava pond. It dripped from her hairy lips and poured over her ass cheeks into the grass beneath. It percolated into her asshole. Miriam was too fucked out to complain. Still, Ben was not finished. He reached for Beulah yet again and mounted her with his soggy, floppy dick. After five minutes of lavish grinding, Pamela had Ben's loins fired for another go. He withdrew and pointed his dick south into Beulah's doodihole from the missionary position. Beulah's eye's widened. Tommy Thompkins had plumbed her poop chute once or twice. His dick wasn't nearly as thick as Ben's. Plus, Tommy had taken his time out of consideration for the young girl's capacities; Ben didn't seem to be afflicted with that mindset. No, Ben seemed determined to make this assignation a "teachable moment" "Don't play wit' me, ho." He drove fiercely into her rectum, unconcerned with Beulah's shock at this sudden, unlubricated anal intrusion. When he was hilted, he drew back and fired a long, slow penetrating thrust forward to test the elasticity thereof. Beulah winced. Ben drew back again and again, going faster and faster still until the heat churned up by his penile friction elicited a feral cry of pleasure from the girl. "This is what it feels like to get fucked up the ass, girl. Your little piddly clit couldn't bust a grape", he whispered in her ear. "Yassuh! Yassuh! I knows it, Suh!" she cried aloud, reverting to type. Beulah's servile pleadings tempered his rage some. He slowed a bit to allow her natural gels time to accumulate. Ben didn't really enjoy anger banging. He liked to build his orgasms in layers, going slow, then fast, then deep, then rotational. Anger banging produced a brief but intense pop that receded quickly, leaving little afterglow. Ben decided to give Beulah another unexpected surprise. Still mounted missionary anal, he withdrew his cock from her ass. Bea thought he was moving on to another of the triplets with no small measure of relief. She sighed contentedly but rolled over into the standard doggystyle position, ass up, head down. The next thing she felt was Ben's head moving up between her thighs. She snapped her head back to make sure it was his head and not some wild new position with which she was unacquainted. His crimson moptop waggled up between. Was he? Washe? Yes, he was! He was going to lick Pammie! Unbidden! Ben reached up to grip her buttocks then pulled Pamela gently down onto his face. Beulah, twice shocked now at this unforeseen turn of events, was happy to oblige. Ben pointed to Dinah. She was lying on the blanket next to the copulating couple, regaining her strength from their earlier dynamic session. Ben pointed to his erect cock. He was lying on his back licking Beulah's pussy. Her knees skirted his ears. His cock still raged alone in the air. Dinah took the hint. She clambered atop his dick and gratefully inserted it into her pussy. "No." Ben ordered, taking a break from servicing Beulah's clit. "The other hole." Dinah released him from her cunt and eased her ass down upon his dick. Her sphincter popped open easily. She was more acquainted with the southern route than Beulah. The two sisters proceeded to sate themselves at the largesse of the white boy lying beneath. Ten minutes into their tri-une coupling, Miriam recovered enough to join the fray, making it an imbalanced foursome. Ben lay on his back while Beulah and Dinah serviced him. His arms and legs were splayed out on the blanket. Miriam stepped up and squatted over his right hand, bundled his fingers into an angular fist, then eased her sloppy wet pussy down upon it. She repeated this maneuver using each of his feet and finally, his left hand, before Ben was obliged by nature and necessity to rage his cum into Dinah's churning ass. This, of course, was Miriam's intent. Dinah was cobbling in on Priscilla's preferred mount. Unceremoniously, Miriam pushed Dinah out of the way. Ben's spent cock slipped from Dinah's ass and flumped onto his stomach, then rolled into its natural position along his left thigh. Jism dripped lazily from his pee-hole. Beulah continued to hump his face. She was lost in her own impending vaginal explosion. From below, Miriam could see Pamela gobble and pucker greedily at Ben's tongue. Beulah was twerking it. Miriam mounted Ben and took his penis into her pussy. She, too, began to twerk in rhythm with her sister. It took some doing, but Priscilla finally succeeded at re-energizing Ben's well-oiled penis. Miriam never doubted Priscilla's capacity. After her fourth cunnilingual orgasm, Beulah shrieked and fell away from Bens' face, leaving only Miriam mounted atop the boy. Beulah rolled onto her back and fanned her pussy expressively, wafting its odor into the night air. Dinah, too, fanned herself. Both women's nether regions were scorched from Ben's vibrant insurgency. Miriam now worked Ben for all he was worth. His dick was thrice drained, his nerve endings fried. The only thing left was a rock hard piece of purple meat aroused at the smell and the savor of a wildly exotic chocolate pussy whose talents equaled its legend. This was the true competition of the night, the last pair of sexual gladiators standing. Though Miriam's pussy was still chock full of Ben's semen, such was the animus of their coupling that Ben's residual joy juice bubbled down her cunt and drained from her hole. It coated Ben's balls in a bubbly white, creamy cluster of foam as she humped him. This cum cluster expanded to cover part of Miriam's ass and Ben's thighs like egg white meringue. Miriam's sisters looked on in amazement. Ben's deep purple cock reddened noticeably from the friction of Priscilla's strident efforts. It seemed to glow like an overheated piston in the midst of the bubbly foam. Having climaxed earlier, neither Ben nor Miriam was of a mind to just cum and get it over with. They wanted to fuck. They wanted to fully invest themselves of each other's genitals and leave burned out nubs where healthy, vibrant organs once stood. Ten minutes of sexual warfare ensued; Fifteen; Twenty. All one heard was the wicked sound of wet slapping pelvises as the white boy and the black girl ruthlessly assaulted one another. First Miriam was on top, then Ben supplanted her there. They rolled over and over on the blanket, fucking as if this were the last fuck to take place in the entire universe, and they'd been ordered to make it a good one, because no other fucks were to be had, ever again, in the entire history of the world. In time both of the remaining combatants fell into a blazing blur of sexual agony. Neither wanted to be the first to cum; both of them were on the verge of capitulation. Ben turned Miriam over and cooled his red-hot dick in her asshole for a bit. Priscilla's precocious penile predilection required Ben's presence, however. Miriam jerked forward, releasing him to the elements. When she eased back, she didn't need to manually point Ben's dick into her pussy. Priscilla gaped wide and gulped him in. Ben couldn't complain. Priscilla's silky mixture of thick, curly pubic hair and her sticky-hot internal purring engine tickled him like the magnificent engine of dick conquest that Miriam bragged of. Truly, Priscilla was top-shelf, premium quality hole. "Come on! Come on!" Ben demanded as he fought to restrain his ejaculate. "Give it to me, baby!" Miriam cajoled, using her most seductive dusky whisper voice. She needed to feel him surge and fire. "No. You go, first", Ben reiterated. "I will, if, you, will," Miriam wheedled breathlessly, straining to speak and concentrate on Priscilla at the same time. Ben tried one last futile line. "This, ain't, no, game, Miri. Bust a nut!" he groused in his best "I'm the white person here" voice. Miriam didn't answer. She knew she had him. She felt him quake and shimmer. "Here it comes", she told herself. With that she loosed Priscilla from bondage and hurled her into battle against the forces of semen rushing from the penis within. She screeched out her lust, driven by Priscilla's heated animus, and humped Benny like a locomotive steam engine. Ben smirked at her slyly. He leapt out of her pussy, cocked Beulah's legs open, inserted himself and erupted. This was the 'poosy' that brung him to the dance. His nuts tightened impossibly to squeeze the last dredges of seed from his tortured testes. "There. That's all three. I did it", he congratulated himself. Miriam was embarrassed to have been so put upon by her intended foil. She was still humping the air as Ben relieved himself in her sister's cunt, unaware of his sudden absence. Not only had he robbed her of the pleasure of his eruption, he'd faked an orgasm and she hadn't detected it. Up till then, Beulah had been the only one of the sisters who hadn't elicited his ejaculate. Well, she had swallowed his jizz puddle. That, apparently, didn't count. Both Dinah and Miriam already had his cum percolating from their nether regions. That, apparently, counted. Now Beulah counted, too. Dinah and Beulah laughed at Miriam's frustration. "I guess he fooled you!" they chimed. "Pssh. I ain't wanted his tired old jizz, anyway." Miriam's sour grapes attitude only made her sisters laugh harder. No one (to their knowledge) had ever given up on bustin' a nut in Priscilla. It was apparent to all three women knew that Beulah now had a leg up on Miriam. Their braggadocious sister had met her Waterloo. "Good one, Benny!" laughed Beulah. "You go, boy!" Dinah chuckled. "Yeah, Benny. You go", said Miriam, using verbiage a bit more literally than Dinah intended. All three black girls waded out into the pond to wash. "Don't get my hair wet." "Is you kiddin', Peaseyhaid? All that sweatin' you jist did?" Ben gathered up his things, dressed and made his way back to the road home. His mouth, cheeks, hands, feet, ass-crack and dick all resonated with the smell of milk chocolate pussy, leaving an ethereal, invisible pheromone trail in his wake. Unbeknownst to him, male animals in the forest were unintentionally aroused by his aromatic passage. They tracked him home. In the morning, Annette Leone awakened to find Ben's erect penis bulging up against her top lip, just beneath her nostrils. To be continued. By Bardot1990 for Literotica.
Land of the Lost #1 - Christopher ThompkinsBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/missing-persons-mysteries--5624803/support.
We wish that we could share all of our great conversations we have when we dont have teh equipment around and set up to go. Between The Senator and Capt E they converse on a daily basis with incredible people that are involved in everything rlating to fins, fur, and feathers. Capt E was able to run to the studio and hop on a call with one of the biggest names in professional bass fishing, JT Thompkins. Who is also a Palmetto State and Myrtle Beach native and friend of the podcast. JT is enjoying a break on Lake Champlain from competition as Tropical Storm Debbie makes her way through the New York area today. After day one, JT is currently sitting in 45th and is 10th for Angler Of The Year and 4th in Rookie Of The Year standings. He discusses his first day on the water and exactly how he felt coming into this event. We also discuss the setails in competitions in a small mouth fishery and some of the techniques he is using this week. We are always grateful to have JT on and wish him the best of luck as the tourney kicks back off tomorrow morning. You can follow all the action live at The Bassmasters website. Also, you can check out the new rain gear that JT refers to as well as the baits and rods by clicking on the following links. FXR Rain Gear Yamamoto BaitsFX Custom Rods. Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/trilogy-outdoors--5441492/support.
Christopher Carlton Thompkins was born on December 28th, 1981. He lived in Ellerslie, Georgia, with his mother, Ann McKenzie, and worked for a surveying company. On January 25th, 2002, Christopher disappeared while working with three colleagues near County Line Road in Harris County, Georgia. Despite initial assumptions that he wandered off, Christopher's sudden disappearance baffled his coworkers. His boot was found hanging on a fence and his tools were left untouched at the site. Six months later, another boot was discovered nearby, but no other traces of him have ever been found. The case remains unsolved, with theories ranging from foul play to inexplicable disappearances in wilderness areas.Ossuary 6 - Air Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 Licensehttp://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/Contact us at: weeknightmysteries@gmail.comInstagram - https://www.instagram.com/weeknightmysteriesTikTok - https://www.tiktok.com/@weeknightmysteries
Have something you want to say? Text us!This week Ashley discusses the frustrating disappearance case of Christopher Thompkins, a 20 year old African-American man from Georgia. He was with 3 coworkers when they claim they looked away from him for a few seconds and then he was 'mysteriously' gone. Help us keep his name alive. Join us as we explore the dark side of humanity!Anyone with any information on the whereabouts of Christopher Carlton Thompkins is asked to contact the Harris County Sheriff's Office at 706–628–4211.ReferencesWTVM - 20 years later, family and officials continue search for answers in disappearance of Harris Co. manThe Mystery Box - The strange, unsolved disappearance of Christopher ThompkinsGeorgia Bureau of Investigation - Christopher ThompkinsThe Crime Wire - The mysterious disappearance of Christopher ThompkinsLedger-Enquirer - Local crime newsThe Lore Lodge: What Were His Coworkers Hiding? The Disappearance of Chris Thompkins (YouTube)The Strange and Unsolved Disappearance of Christopher Thompkins Please like, follow, and share us - we're on all of the platforms! Oh, and please leave reviews so other true crime lovers can find us. Case Files with Kat and Ashley FacebookInstagram
Suzanne Colucci has this afternoon's top local stories from the WCBS Newsroom.
In this episode of Nurse Converse, Shenell Thompkins, RN explores what it means to be an introvert and how it can impact communication in healthcare settings. She shares five helpful tips for introverted nurses in the workplace. Tune in to discover practical strategies to thrive as an introverted nurse and enhance patient care outcomes.Jump Ahead to Listen:[00:15] Tips for introverted nurses.[05:41] Effective communication strategies.[09:46] Engaging Patients in Conversations.[11:33] The power of listening.[15:13] Taking small breaks to recharge.Connect with Shenell on social media:Instagram: allonenurseTikTok: all_one_nurseFor more information, full transcript and videos visit Nurse.org/podcastJoin our newsletter at nurse.org/joinInstagram: @nurse_orgTikTok: @nurse.orgFacebook: @nurse.orgYouTube: Nurse.org
Rick Stroud and Steve Versnick on the accusations being made against Deven Thompkins by his wife and how it impacted the Buccaneers releasing him this week. Plus the Rays sweep the Marlins, who might coach USF Baseball and remembering D-Day. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
THE FELLAS ARE BACK! AND READY TO ROLL! After nearly a week off, the fellas are back and chomping at the bit to talk some Bucs ball! We have a lot to chat about - including: - Bucs OTA Coverage - Deven Thompkins Alleged Rumors - Beer Draft Continues - Tristan Wirfs Update - New Logo - Hot Seat Challenge With Gene from Buc What Ya Heard - Upcoming Buccateers Schedule - Final Word Follow us on Youtube, Spotify, Apple, and more: Buccateers Podcast Follow us on Twitter (X): @Buccateers Follow us on Instagram: @BuccateersPod Keep up with us on Facebook: Bucs Life LLC Tampa Tones on Twitter (X): @TampaTones Tampa Tones on Instagram: @TampaToness
Rick Stroud and Steve Versnick on the 24 hours of Jose Siri as he hits 2 more homers on Thursday as the Rays win their 2nd straight walk-off, the Buccaneers waive Deven Thompkins and we answer your mailbag questions on Raymond James Stadium, Rays catching, Tanner Jeannot, Nikita Kucherov and more. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Jerry & Amanda discuss a missing person case that will blow your mind.
We mention our live radio show each week on the podcast and until now, we have not shared any of our live broadcast here. This week we had some friends stop by our studio and we feel it was too good not to share on all of our platforms. We have had Bassmaster Elite angler, JT Thompkins on the show in the past and this week we were honored to have him and a friend and fellow competitor stop in to our studio to join us. Trey McKinney is currently leading the Angler Of The Year and Rookie Of The Year on the Bassmaster Elites and he is just doing incredible things on the biggest stage of bassfishing. JT and Trey share the top two spots in the ROY standings and the rest of the season promises to be an exciting battle between all the 2024 rookie class. JT is coming off a top 3 finish on Lake Murray where Trey also had a 6th place finish. JT has a 2nd and a 3rd place finish and is achieving every goal he set out to achieve this year so far. These two are proving themselves and having a great time doing it. At the Lake Fork event, Trey not only earned a Century belt, he became the youngest winner in the history of the Elite Series. The future is very bright for both of these young men and we are excited to have them sit with us and talk about the year. Be sure to follow these young men the rest of the 2024 season at www.bassmasters.com. Enjoy!!!!!!Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/trilogy-outdoors--5441492/support.
Chris Bowes, JT Thompkins and Patrick Walters join host Thom Abraham on this episode of Bassmaster Radio.
This week, I'm delighted to have Sonja Thompkins, an intuitive life and business coach, join us to dive deep into harmonizing life's demands with our passions and wellbeing, especially as a multi-passionate Manifesting Generator (Sonja is a ManiGen in both Tropical and True Sidereal HD). With over 25 years as an entrepreneur across various sectors, Sonia brings a wealth of experience and insights. She supports multi-passionate individuals to achieve harmony in their responsibilities, relationships, and personal goals, moving away from hustle towards a more integrated and fulfilling approach to life. We discuss how to embrace our multi-passionate natures without becoming overwhelmed and how to align our actions with our deepest desires and life's natural rhythms. Enjoy this episode! About Sonja: Sonja Thompkins is an Intuitive Life & Business Coach that supports Multi-passionate Individuals to fulfill their responsibilities, relationships & well-being goals with harmony instead of hustle. After 25 years as an entrepreneur across multiple industries she began an intentional journey of self discovery & mastery which led to sharing her experiences & expertise as professional coach, transformation facilitator and speaker. How to connect with Sonja? https://sonjathompkins.com/ https://www.instagram.com/sonjathompkins/ Sonja's weekly Email Series: https://sonjathompkins.com/email/ Sonja's podcast The Art Of Self Mastery: https://sonjathompkins.com/category/podcast/ How to connect with Analena? E-mail: bloom@analenafuchs.com Analena's Website: https://www.analenafuchs.com Analena's Instagram for loads of free content and all of her offerings: https://www.instagram.com/analena.fuchs/ You feel intrigued to join us in the Conscious Money Collective? https://courses.analenafuchs.com/cmc --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/the-art-of-slowing-down/message
Originally uploaded April 4th, re-edited May 2nd. Chris Holman welcomes back Angela Thompkins, Chief Diversity Officer and Vice President of Community Affairs of Consumers Energy, Jackson, MI, Consumers Energy are once again a sponsor of Michigan Celebrates Small Business now in its twentieth year with a Gala celebration coming up May 21st at the Breslin Center in East Lansing, MI. What draws Consumers Energy to support Michigan Celebrates Small Business? As vice president for community affairs and chief diversity officer, what sort of work is involved in that role? Can you talk more about Consumers Energy's DEI journey and where it stands? Consumers Energy this year has been talking a lot about its Reliability Roadmap. What is that, and what does it mean for small businesses? Anything else you want us to know about Consumers Energy and how it's helping small businesses? » Visit MBN website: www.michiganbusinessnetwork.com/ » Watch MBN's YouTube: www.youtube.com/@MichiganbusinessnetworkMBN » Like MBN: www.facebook.com/mibiznetwork » Follow MBN: twitter.com/MIBizNetwork/ » MBN Instagram: www.instagram.com/mibiznetwork/
January 25th 2002. 20-year old Christopher Thompkins was working as a lineman on a survey crew. He was positioned at the end and having a conversation with his coworker who was in formation 50 feet away. His coworker looked away for a moment and when he turned back around, Christopher was gone leaving only his tools and one work boot found nearby. He hasn't been seen since.
Chris Zaldain and Trait Zaldain sit down with the Bassmaster EQ Angler of The Year and Rookie Elite Series Fisherman, JT Thompkins, to discuss his 3 years in the Opens, his mindset heading into the Elites, how he was able to qualify so young, and much more on this week's The Bilge Podcast presented by @battlebornbatteries Please support Battle Born Batteries when looking for your next set of lithiums for your boat. Here's the discount code for our listeners: https://bit.ly/BatteriesDiscountBilge
On a chilly day in January in 2002, a young man went to work. He never came home. Strange clues did nothing to solve the mystery, leaving his family searching for answers. Is this a case of Missing 411? Or something more mundane? Join us as we delve into this bizarre tragedy. https://linktr.ee/cruelteaSupport the show
Today on the You Can Heal Your Life podcast, you'll hear a chapter from Spirituality is for Every Body, the brand-new audiobook by writer and disability rights advocate Allison Thompkins, Ph.D. Allison shares her journey of surrendering to God and the transformational insights gained through spiritual practices and growth. She explores misconceptions about surrender, the importance of aligning with divine will, and the profound revelations that come with trusting in God's love. You'll learn how yielding to the flow of divine life applies to various aspects of existence, including personal challenges and life's purpose. You can listen to the full audiobook FREE with a trial of the Empower You Unlimited Audio App. To start your trial and begin listening today, visit hayhouse.com/empoweryou.
This week on The OneCast Trey and Pete are joined by BASS Opens Angler of the Year and BASS Elite Series qualifier JT Thompkins. JT talks about how he got into fishing and tournament angling, shares how he prepared to fish at a high level, and how he deals with the background noise. JT also gives great insight into having another form of income while fishing and being financially smart. Be sure to follow JT on all of his social media JT Thompkins on Facebook JT Thompkins on Instagram Thank you for all the continued support! The OneCast logo gear is now available at The OneCast Apparel! Be sure to get yours while supplies last! Support those who help to make this possible! Carolina Waters! Check out Carolina Waters for all your performance fishing gear, casual t shirts, and headwear. Use the code TheOneCast and Save 20% off your order. Head over to OneCast Fishing and use the code TheOneCast at checkout to save 10%! Join the snagless revolution, catch more fish and lose less tackle! If you are in the market for land or a home in Central North Carolina be sure to reach out to our newest partner Eric Schwind with Mossy Oak Properties. Eric can help you find the home or land of your dreams. You can contact him via email at eschwind@mossyoakproperties.com or by phone at (910) 727-5579. Let Eric help you to make your dreams come true! Let him know The OneCast sent you! Join the conversation and our community where we work to build the culture of anglers helping anglers OneCast at a time head to The OneCast Community on Facebook Head over and follow us on Instagram for behind-the-scenes videos, studio tours, and sneak peaks of what's coming! The OneCast on Instagram DONATE to the Tony, Camille, and Family. Help us to continue to grow a culture of Anglers helping Anglers OneCast at a time! Support these great organizations who are helping those who help keep us safe and free to talk about fishing! Special Operations Bass Anglers FX3 Inc Heroes' Harvest For His Glory Outdoors Hosts Social Media Pete on Instagram Trey on Instagram
In January of 2002, a 20-year-old man was working a surveying job in a Georgia forest when he vanished without a trace. When his co-workers realized he was no longer standing in the line, they began their search for him, only to find one of his boots hanging from a barbed wire fence, with his work tools, his work pants, and twelve cents laying in the grass next to it. So where did he go, and what happened to him? This is the story of Christopher Thompkins. BONUS EPISODES Apple Subscriptions: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/going-west-true-crime/id1448151398 Patreon: patreon.com/goingwestpodcast CASE SOURCES 1. The Crime Wire: https://thecrimewire.com/true-crime/The-Mysterious-Disappearance-of-Christopher-Thompkins 2. WTVM: https://www.wtvm.com/2023/07/19/20-years-later-family-officials-continue-search-answers-disappearance-harris-co-man/ 3. Ledger-Enquirer: https://www.newspapers.com/image/860192725/?terms=christopher%20thompkins&match=1 4. US Bureau of Labor Statistics: https://www.bls.gov/ooh/architecture-and-engineering/surveyors.htm#:~:text=Boundary%20or%20land%20surveyors%20determine,proper%20depths%20for%20building%20foundations. 5. Exit 9: https://web.archive.org/web/20201111232151/http://exit9.news/2019/03/14/christopher-thompkins-part-ii-following-the-clues/ 6. The End of Summer: https://the-end-of-summer.blogspot.com/2015/01/missing.html 7. Ledger-Enquirer: https://www.newspapers.com/image/860307726/?terms=christopher%20thompkins&match=18. 9. Ledger-Enquirer: https://www.ledger-enquirer.com/news/local/article28986784.html 10. WRBL: https://www.wrbl.com/news/vigil-for-man-missing-since-2002/ 11. Reddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/ovx5x7/anyone_familiar_with_this_case_the_bizarre/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Assistant Director of Athletics Performance at Baylor University, Courteney Tompkins, finishes our year of Beyond Sets & Reps episodes and with her, we're ending on a high note. As a former collegiate wrestler, she offers a unique perspective as a young strength & conditioning coach - and as an 'old timer' now, I can say that! Ending the episode with her best advice is a great way to go into 2024. Enjoy and happy new year! Shoutout to our podcast sponsors, Sorinex and EliteForm, for another year of support and making these episodes possible.
Christopher Thompkins was last seen in a wooded area near County Line Road off of Warm Springs Road in Harris County, Georgia on January 25, 2002. Christopher had been working as part of a 4 man survey crew when he disappeared. If you have information regarding Christopher's case please contact: Harris County Sheriff, 706-628-4211 or the GBI's Office: 706-655-5842 or you can submit a tip to their tip line at 1800-597-TIPS.
Matt Messer, Kyle Patrick, JT Thompkins and Logan Parks join this episode of Bassmaster Radio with Thom Abraham.
In a world where the police are charged with protecting your Constitutional rights, they'd be climbing all over themselves to read you your Miranda Rights. We don't live in that world.If you're not a 5-4 Premium member, you're not hearing every episode! To get exclusive Premium-only episodes, access to our Slack community, and more, join at fivefourpod.com/support.5-4 is presented by Prologue Projects. Rachel Ward is our producer. Leon Neyfakh and Andrew Parsons provide editorial support. Our researcher is Jonathan DeBruin, and our website was designed by Peter Murphy. Our artwork is by Teddy Blanks at Chips NY, and our theme song is by Spatial Relations.Follow the show at @fivefourpod on most platforms. On Twitter, find Peter @The_Law_Boy and Rhiannon @AywaRhiannon. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Bible Reading: Job 23:8-10; Romans 8:28Soren quietly stepped onto the back porch where his grandpa was enjoying the sunshine. He watched as Grandpa began to shape the mustache of the wooden cowboy in his hands with his favorite knife."Carving again, Grandpa?" Soren asked.Grandpa looked up and smiled. "Good to see you, Soren. Have a seat and tell me about your day."Soren frowned and plopped down in a brown folding chair. "School was okay, I guess. Math is weird. I can't figure out this geometry stuff Mrs. Thompkins is trying to teach us. She keeps trying to explain it, but it's hard to pay attention, since I get kind of distracted sometimes.""Thinking about the treatments your mom is going through?" asked Grandpa.Soren nodded. "And Jasper told me today that he's moving because his dad got a new job. We won't be able to play together anymore. He'll be living too far away." Soren put his chin in his hands and frowned. "It seems like everything is going wrong all at once."Grandpa slowly scratched his chin and looked at the wooden figure in his hand. "Soren, when I decide to carve something, what do I start with?""A block of wood," Soren replied. "Right. I have to cut it, sand it, and carve it to make it a cowboy, or a bird, or whatever else I want it to be." Grandpa blew tiny flakes of wood off the cowboy's face. "That's what God is doing with you, buddy. Just like I work hard carving details on a figure to make it look just right, God is shaping you into the person He wants you to be, and He even uses the difficulties you face in life to do that. I know you're going through some tough times, but He can use them to teach you about patience and trust and other things that will help you grow in your relationship with Jesus. He loves you and promises to be with you all through your life--even in difficult times." Grandpa etched a couple more lines into the cowboy's mustache, then handed it to Soren. "Finished. He's all yours."Soren slowly ran his fingers across the cowboy's delicate wooden face and smiled.-Mike DizeHow About You?Are you facing a lot of problems right now? Maybe you're having trouble at school or someone you love is sick. Dealing with problems is never easy, but Jesus promises to be with you and can use those things to help you learn to trust Him and grow in your faith. Remember that He is with you in tough situations, and trust Him to use them to help you grow in your relationship with Him.Today's Key Verse:We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. (NIV) (Isaiah 64:8)Today's Key Thought:Let God shape you
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