Podcasts about unwilling

Renée Bondi was engaged to be married and had a beautiful singing voice, a thriving career as a music teacher, and a loving family. But then one night a bizarre accident shattered her spine and left her quadriplegic - waking up and suddenly diving off her bed. Her life changed forever. Unwilling to accept that her life was over, Renée searched her heart and asked God for help. Renée shared with Clayton how she leaned on God during this time. She shares how she copes with the constant living in a wheelchair. Find out more about Renée at Catholic Speakers.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Sometimes you just need a good diversion to distract you from the dumpster fire that is modern life and few things can immediately take you on the emotional rollercoaster like a good satirical dystopian narrative so I've got first time guest Alice Darrow on with me today to help me break down what is the surprise comic book of 2025 for me, Tramps of the Apocalypse. Sitting somewhere between Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! and Idiocracy, this is a hilarious dressing down of the modern manosphere through the lens of three damsels causing much distress in 2094 in a world ruled by Quest Ragnor, King Of Males as terrible dudes seek to do what terrible dudes would do in a scenario such as this. Do yourself a favor and make sure to put it on your radar. Tramps of the Apocalypse from Dark Horse Comics From the publisher The year is 2094, and men rule the world. So what has changed in seventy years, you ask? Following the ten-year Sildenafil wars of 2053, Earth has become a barren wasteland. Factions of surviving men led by “Quest Ragnor, King of Males” have taken over the remnants of cities and towns across the globe, capturing and enslaving all women…Well, all women except for three super bimbos with unparalleled bloodlust and an unquenchable thirst for violence: Baby, Belladonna, and Babette. Unwilling to bend to the whims and desires of the buffoons in charge, too slippery to be caught, and too sexy for chains, these three bangin' babes are at the top of Quest Ragnor's most wanted list. Unfortunately for him, they couldn't care less. PATREON We have a new Patreon, CryptidCreatorCornerpod. If you like what we do, please consider supporting us. We got two simple tiers, $1 and $3. Want to know more, you know what to do. ARKENFORGE Play TTRPG games? Make sure to check out our partner Arkenforge. Use the discount code YETI5 to get $5 off your order. THE LANTERN CATALOG Created on the premise of creating light in the dark, this is the the go to resource to keep you up to date on the indy projects and the creators you love. You can find them at https://www.thelanterncatalog.com/. Make sure to check out our sponsor 2000AD. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

A proud product of public education, John Coleman received his undergraduate degree in history from Western Connecticut State University. Alas, that was to be the end of his flattering academic titles. Unwilling to once again become a debt slave to usurers, his graduate studies were scotched at the half-way point. John wasted over a decade of his professional life attempting to establish a high school for a community who took neither themselves nor their worldview seriously. Burned by these unseemly experiences, on Holy Saturday of 2013 Apocatastasis Institute was founded.The Institute primarily exists to protect the humanities in se, and to provide a haven for academics in a disintegrating professional field. The author of Hurt: Some Thoughts On Disillusion, Distrust, and Disorientation These Last Few Years (2015), The Trotsky Train: Some Words To The Discupulate (2018), An Excess Of Love (2024), and Pearls Before Swine (2024), John daily continues his work of restoring formal classroom learning in light of the proper personal, social, and political ends of a school.In 2025 John won the Excellence In Education award from the Education 2.0 conference organization. I first got to know John a few years ago, when I studied Latin under his excellent tutelage at Apocatastasis. I interviewed him for the podcast back in November, 2022: Agency, Vision and Discipline. John and I intended to focus this conversation on health and the connections between health and education, but we ended up having a much broader discussion, exploring questions like: What makes a healthy society? What's the role of education in reforming society? And how does a conditioned lack of agency impede that reform? We talked about:* Formal education as the last coming-of-age ritual we all share in common – and how and why John believes that ritual is coming to an end;* The role of AI in future education – and what John sees as a positive outcome of that trend;* How commerce has taken over education and turned teachers into “service sector workers” vs. the role that teachers have historically played;* Formal education as a fulcrum for social reform – and what kind of education would contribute to a healthy society;* How modern pedagogy saps the agency of both students and teachers – and lack of agency as a fundamental social problem;* And much more!In the conversation, John mentions an article by Ted Gioia: What's Happening to Students?Find out about John's work:* main site: www.ApocatastasisInstitute.wordpress.com* Apocatastasis on Substack* Geopolitical Turnings Conference Replays* coming up in July: Health Conference* Rumble channel* Bitchute channel* Telegram channel* Contact John: apocatastasisinstitute@aol.com This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit embodiedaquarian.substack.com/subscribe

Here is the NLS annotation: The berry pickers: a novel DB117941 Author: Peters, Amanda Reading Time: 8 hours, 47 minutes Read by: Jordan Waunch, Aaliya Warbus Subjects: General Fiction, Family, Historical Fiction “A four-year-old Mi'kmaq girl goes missing from the blueberry fields of Maine, sparking a tragic mystery that haunts the survivors, unravels a family, and remains unsolved for nearly fifty years. July 1962. Following in the tradition of Indigenous workers from Nova Scotia, a Mi'kmaq family arrives in Maine to pick blueberries for the summer. Weeks later, four-year-old Ruthie, the family's youngest child, vanishes. She is last seen by her six-year-old brother, Joe, sitting on a favorite rock at the edge of a berry field. Joe will remain distraught by his sister's disappearance for years to come. In Maine, a young girl named Norma grows up as the only child of an affluent family. Her father is emotionally distant, her mother frustratingly overprotective. Norma is often troubled by recurring dreams and visions that seem more like memories than imagination. As she grows older, Norma slowly comes to realize there is something her parents aren't telling her. Unwilling to abandon her intuition, she will spend decades trying to uncover this family secret.” — Provided by publisher. Strong language and some violence. Commercial audiobook. [Prince Frederick, Maryland] : Recorded Books, Inc., [2023] This book can be found on Bookshare at this link: https://www.bookshare.org/browse/book/6211068?returnPath=L3NlYXJjaD9tb2R1bGVOYW1lPXB1YmxpYyZrZXl3b3JkPVRoZSUyQmJlcnJ5JTJCcGlja2Vycw This group currently does not have a scheduled facilitator and we will continue to pick and discuss books as a group.

Dave Rubin of “The Rubin Report” talks about Donald Trump leaving a reporter speechless by showing that he will not be swayed on his tariff plan by a stock market crash; CNN's Laura Coates being surprised when her question about Trump's tariffs for “Shark Tank's” Kevin O'Leary backfires; Trump Economic advisor Kevin Hassett explaining to Tucker Carlson why focusing on the stock market distracts from what is needed to help the working class; the shocking stabbing death of Austin Metcalf by Karmelo Anthony at a high school football game and the attempts to make Anthony the victim; Eric Weinstein explaining to “Modern Wisdom's Chris Williamson the real reason that more teen boys are shifting to the right in their politics; Douglas Murray explaining to “Triggernometry's” Konstantin Kisin and Francis Foster why liberal societies must deport Hamas supporters and abandon their tolerance of intolerance; and much more. WATCH the MEMBER-EXCLUSIVE segment of the show here: https://rubinreport.locals.com/ Check out the NEW RUBIN REPORT MERCH here: https://daverubin.store/ ---------- Today's Sponsors: Lean - A powerful weight loss supplement with remarkable results to help lower blood sugar, burn fat by converting it into energy, and curb your appetite. Rubin Report viewers get 20% off plus free rush shipping off their first order! Go to: https://TakeLean.com and enter promo code DAVE20 for your discount Rumble Premium - Corporate America is fighting to remove speech, Rumble is fighting to keep it. If you really believe in this fight Rumble is offering $10 off with the promo code RUBIN when you purchase an annual subscription, Go to: https://Rumble.com/premium/RUBIN and use promo code RUBIN Home Title Lock - Ensure that your home title is safe from thieves. Sign up today and you'll get a FREE Title History Report plus a FREE 14-day trial of their Million Dollar TripleLock Protection—that's 24/7 monitoring of your title, urgent alerts to any changes, and if fraud should happen they'll spend up to ONE MILLION dollars to fix it. Go to: http://hometitlelock.com/rubinreport and USE promo code RUBIN Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The first Ishara open  House Challenge .Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.Odd Happenings{8:58 am, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd ~ 5 Days to go; the Final Salvo ~ at this time}I had deposited my Mother in the place I felt was safest for her   with OT (Oyuun T m rbaatar) at the Kazakhstan's UN mission. Her being my family was what mattered to them most. I picked her up on my way to work, which made my entrance into the lobby all that much more cataclysmic.I was traveling light with only Wiesława Živa providing me with security. Chaz, Pamela and Juanita were catching up with their sleep, with a promise of taking me out for a late lunch. That was really them telling me to not leave JIKIT until they came for me around 2:00 pm.So anyway, me, Mom and Wiesława walked into the ground floor of the Mil Ma Towers to find eleven people waiting on us. We were in downtown Manhattan in a part of town the NYPD paid particular attention to. What could go wrong, right? Two of the people were Amazons from Havenstone. With them were two fine young men from the US 'don't make me kill you' Department. By this time in my life I was sure they had one   which no one talked about.Five of my expectant visitors were of the same mold as those who protected Hana for me. Not the Ghost Tigers   that would have put me at ease. Sure, they were a gang of assassin and in this circumstance; I would have preferred them. As it was, ten sets of highly-trained Illuminati operative eyes kept me, my party and the four guardians of JIKIT in their overlapping fields of vision.The last two, were doing an impromptu family reunion. They were Aunts 'X' and 'Y', and neither of them smelled like fish, or crab."Aunt Deidre," I tossed out there. "What brings you here today?"It looked like clobbering time! No. Wait. Neither Mom, nor my aunts, were saying anything and they were normally so verbose."Sibeal.""Imogen.""Sibeal, you are looking surprisingly well for a dead woman," the other one said."Deidre, you are looking surprisingly alive for someone who deserves to be dead," Mom bantered back."How long have you known about this?" Imogen's eyes flickered my way."Not long, a while, more than a day, ah, take your pick," I mumbled. I decided to turn that frown aka 'my gut wrenching terror that my Mother was about to die' upside down aka ramped up my sexy, 'glad to see you in a totally incestuous way'."So, what brings you here today and why aren't you waiting upstairs with the rest of my band of cutthroats, malcontents and ne'er do-wells? Oh, and I'm happy to see both of you." Karma was about to bitch-slap the shit out of me and it was so well deserved."I'm pregnant," Imogen studied my reaction. Yeah, I had banged her after Deidre, but before Baibre because I am a fucking reprehensible human being and sometimes, I feel I am utterly irredeemable."Great news," I exhaled. I so wanted to ask 'so, who is the father?' except that was too cruel, even for an O'Shea.No one stopped me from stepping up and hugging her. Everyone in the lobby had heard her loud and clear. Anyone who knew me, or even about me, knew she wasn't passing on the information because Imogen liked sharing good news. I kept my hands on her hips while I leaned my torso back until we could make eye contact."Does Granddad know?" It occurred to me in that second that Pamela was going to kick herself for missing this and the opportunity to kick me as well."I told him over the phone. His reaction was neutral," she responded."Whoa, girl? Boy? How are you doing? When are we going to sit down and figure out a name? Is there anything I can do for you?""Come home with me," she suggested."No," Mom snapped. "Next time he steps into your custody, we all know you won't let him get away." She meant the plane trip to Ireland."No, Mom," I countered. "I'm a grown man now and I make my own decisions. That being said   no, I'm not going home with you.""Not only am I still in love with the concept of my personal freedom, I have important work to do. People are counting on me.""We are counting on you too," Deidre stated. "In fact, that is the other reason we came here. We need you.""Why do I feel that has to do with something besides sex?""Can we talk to you in private?" Imogen requested. There were a thousand and one reasons to say 'no'. Things like 'common sense', bad behavior   they had murdered my homicidal uncle   and the fact they were as morally twisted as their creator. Oh   and they were hot and I hadn't been laid in forever."Sure. Let's go upstairs. You can have your people sweep the room to ensure our privacy then the four of us can sit down and have a family chat," I offered."We don't want her in the room," Deidre indicated Mom."We are a package deal," I denied her. "Like her, or not, she is as much family to me as you both are."They consented far too fast. Either I was falling into their masterful trap, or something horrible had happened. Neither options was palatable to me. The bodyguards departed, Wiesława last of all."What's gone wrong?" Mom preempted me. Her sisters glared."Father's body is not his own," Imogen told us. I was trying to figure out the relevance of that when Mom gasped."Oh fuck," she said in a small voice. "No serum?" Oh yeah, the refinement of those addictive pheromones Grandpa Cáel had gifted me with. Whatever flesh-form he currently inhabited wasn't one containing his genetic make-up meaning,"Oh shit," I mumbled. "What can I do?""Yes," Deidre replied to Mom."Let them die," Mom insisted (to me). Less I forget, she was raised by Grandpa Cáel too. Her being a loving mother to me didn't translate over to her being a humanitarian of any kind."The Hell you say," I jumped up and stared down at Mom. "You hate them. I don't. Letting them die makes me worse than him." Grandpa."So you will help us?" Deidre moved to the edge of her seat."Okay. This is the point where I threaten you into making some concessions, we argue then you eventually cave in because no matter how terrible your futures look, you aren't willing to give up on living. None of that is going to happen. What do you need from me?""Come back with us to Ireland so we can finish our experiments," Imogen joined me in standing. Unwilling to give her sister any physical advantage, Mom stood as well."No. That isn't even a believable lie," I scolded her. "You don't need to blackmail me into helping you. I'll do it gladly. That doesn't mean I'll let you trick me into doing something stupid. I do 'stupid' all the time. I'm accustomed to it and I know it when its ugly head rises up before me. Try again.""We could pick a neutral location," Deidre suggested."How about Havenstone?" They didn't look like that plan was even worthy of their consideration. "Imogen, inside you is growing a possible heir to House Ishara. An attack on you would be an attack on Ishara. Barring you betraying the Amazons, you would be perfectly safe.""Wonderful," Mom's sarcasm dripped off every word. "I'm going to be a grandmother to my nephew while my son is bringing a child into the world that can double as his cousin.""That sound pretty horrible, Mom. It is the truth, but it still sounds pretty terrible."While those words tumbled out of my mouth, I did a little soul back-searching. How in the fuck was   outside of the actual fucking   was Imogen pregnant? My existence was a freaking fluke of nature. A few words were bandied about the room while I was lost in deductive reasoning and turning hunches into assumptions and turning those into reasonable mystic hypotheses.I created the Mojo-Little Engine that thought it could. Specifically, the legacy of Vranus. Legions of little Vranusian sperm had been jumping hurdle after hurdle to keep the faith alive   that Vranus would meet his Ancestors with his mission accomplished. I was already half way there.Still, the legacy of Vranus and the hopes of Dot Ishara hadn't stopped in their struggle just because I had been born. They were still trying to restore the mortal descendants of a Dead House. They were also still spiritually pushing me on to fulfill his last command   to save the Arinniti sons.I was halfway there by returning the offspring of Bolu, Vranus' fellow guardian, back to the fold. It remained for me to round up the purpose of the whole mission in the first place. My semen weren't taking a chance that I could get gakked before that was accomplished. Having knocked up an augur despite the toxic soup she called blood should have been a dire warning to me, I'm an idiot.When the curse of Sarrat Irkalli clashed with the actions of Dot Ishara, Ishara had won. Sarrat Irkalli sought to deny Alal any children of his own. Dot was insisting the male line of Vranus Ishara continue on. The end result was Alal received his long-denied grandson, who just happened to also want him dead because of a feud that stretched back over two millennia.As an added insult, his grandson then knocked up one of Alal's genetically manipulated daughters, again giving him something he couldn't accomplish on his own   heirs   grand-sons and  daughters, most who would also want to kill him, being Amazons and members of the 9 Clans after all. Why? Cause Goddesses are bitches, that's why.That got me to wondering when would be the next time I was going to meet Ishara. I hadn't suffered severe head trauma in while and she was overdue for some snuggle time, witty banter and a fortune cookie. I'd try to be careful. It wouldn't do any good, but I had to try."Why are you crying?" Mom touched my arm."No reason," I lied."Why don't we make plans for tonight?" Deidre insinuated herself next to me. "We'd like to meet Hana. From what I understand, Father likes her.""No can-do," I sniffled. "I've got an orgy with 159 women at 8 o'clock, except there won't be any sex, or fun of any kind. Basically, I have to convince a roomful of women to not beat me up and take my stuff.""You don't have to go," Imogen had finished boxing me in   I had a chair behind me and Momma-clones all around."For the same reason I'm going to take care of our child, Imogen, I have to go to this meeting. People are counting on me to do the right thing without telling me what the right thing to do is.""That's unfair," Deidre empathized by stroking my chest."Not so. This is just another day in the life of a new hire at Havenstone Commercial Investments. Every day is like this and in five more days, the real fun beings." That wasn't entirely accurate. I had one good, stress-free week. It was when Carrig put me in a coma. That week I had done pretty well for myself.{9:28 am, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd ~ 5 Days to go}I trundled my latest 'Assistant-in-Charge of keeping the hopes of future Isharans alive' (I didn't want to call Aunt Imogen, or any other woman, my 'Baby-Mamma'), along with Mom and Deidre, for a meet-and-greet with Buffy. I had spelled out in no uncertain terms that Buffy was the power behind the Ishara Throne and thus making 'her' believe they were playing on the up-and-up was their best hope for easing relations between the O'Shea and the Amazon Host.After they left me (with the assurance we'd be getting back together for lunch, with Hana), I made three calls. I needed to make a formal request to Katrina (any Illuminati member(s) entering any Amazon facility was her purview) and another to Elsa (as a sign of respect) that Aunt Imogen and two unarmed bodyguards, max, needed to see our medicos about a delicate issue.The third call was to Buffy to enlighten her as to both the arrival of another one of my aunts (so we needed to get along peacefully with her) and that Aunt Imogen was carrying yet another potential heir to House Ishara. I suggested it would be a symbolic gesture if a member of House Ishara could hang around for the visit, as it might impress upon Imogen our House had a vested interest in keeping her alive."Another one?" Buffy sizzled. "And this one is your aunt?""It is a date then," I stumped her."You are going to take your pregnant aunt out on a date?" Buffy's sizzle meter was rapidly climbing to Krakatoa proportions."Nope. I'm setting up a date for us. You, me and a quiet location at 12:01 am Tuesday morning, my First. Later in the morning, I'll be heading out to wherever they have stored Felix so we can work on some cooperative strategy.""And if I say 'no'?" She was terribly grumpy."Ugh, I guess I'll go bar-crawling with Odette and Timothy, Gay and Lesbian bars only. That way I know I'll behave.""And if they say 'no'?" she was slightly less hostile."I'll know you threatened their lives, and then you and I will finally find out who is better on the mats. Trust me, it will not be an experience you will enjoy.""I don't know. I think I'd like that.""No. You start threatening the other people I love and you will not be happy; I guarantee that, Buffy."She realized I was both serious and angry. She had stepped out of bounds, the 'bounds' I had set up two hours earlier during our elevator ride."Is the meeting still on for the night?" she evaded my disappointment."Yes. Will you be there?""Of course," she grumped."Buffy, don't bother showing up if you can't separate 'us' as friends, 'us' as Wakko Ishara and my First, and you as my apprentice."Making me miserable in the first relationship doesn't help the latter two one bit. I try not to be an irresponsible asshole as House Head. More than anyone else, you know what I will sacrifice to be Ishara and one with my Isharans. I'll also step out and be plain ole 'Cáel Nyilas' when events permit.""But I am sick and tired of people not taking my desire to be foolish and care-free seriously. Being a dogmatic ass-hat isn't in me, but if you can't work with that, from here on out we are Wakko Ishara and Buffy Ishara and nothing more. I will still trust you as an Isharan, but not as a friend. Your choice.""Don't be such an asshole!" she snapped."Screw you!" I fired back. "I made a fucking effort to plan out some personal time with you, disguised as a joke; you knew it and you still decided to be a ball-buster. Like I need another fucking ball-buster right now, with all the other shit on my plate. You know better!" I was screaming. The people in JIKIT were working overtime at not staring at me."I'm under a ton of stress here too," she snarled. "I have to deal with the Council, keep our House growing and fulfill my obligations with Executive Services.""Do you want to quit? No longer by my 'apprentice'? Go back to working for Katrina full time?""Really?" she whispered."Of course the fuck not!" I shouted. "I didn't pick you for the job because of your sterling personality, or your bedroom excellence. I picked you because I had, and still have, utter faith in your ability to do whatever is necessary to overcome the landfill-sized colossal ill-fortune the Ancestors have dumped in our lap.""I'm just asking you to stop being a whiny, over-sensitive cunt and remember: it was the psychotic bitch who I chose for the top spot," I rumbled."I'm going to kick your ass," she seethed."Nice to know. We on for Monday night?"Pause."Yes," and she hung up. Two seconds later my phone rang again. "Buffy?" I answered. "And don't be late!" she menaced, then hung up again."So," Addison turned my way, "are you praying for World Peace to break out, or Nuclear War?""Hardy-har-har," I griped."Now that your personal drama is temporarily derailed, we have something for you to look at," Mehmet motioned for my attention. "Ever heard of Kōfuku no Kagaku?" I shook my head. "It translates over as 'Happy Science' and it is a cult-like organization in Japan.""Cool beans. Why do I have a sinking impression it is not a front for the Ninja?""That is what we want you to find out," Addison took over. "Of critical importance is the news conference their leader, Ryuho Okawa, gave earlier this afternoon/morning (~ 3:17 pm Tokyo time = 2:17 am East Coast time ~), especially a very relevant part of his interesting public announcement."He claims to be the Earthly manifestation of the Supreme Being. That is old news. Today he claimed that Temujin of the Khanate was the reincarnation of the original Genghis Khan and, with him, Ryuho, as the unifier of theological forces and therefore serving as spiritual advisor to Temujin, they would usher in a new period of Peace throughout Asia.""I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop," I exhaled."He also claims that Japan is in the midst of an epic struggle, both spiritually and in the physical sense. The 'ancient guardians' of Japanese purity, the 6 Ninja Families, are at war with the depth of all Evil, the Chinese Seven Pillars of Heaven by name, who are determined to drag all of Asia away from the Light and into the Darkness of pain, degradation and slavery."In fact I quote: 'Alone among the nations of the Earth, only the Japanese cultural identity can stand firm against this global menace. Only the Japanese can keep the torch of true Enlightenment aloft. Only the Japanese can guide the development of the Khanate into the Supreme Empire it is meant to be'.""I'm going to go out on a limb here and say this guy is pseudo-religious, a Japanese ultra-nationalist as well as anti 'all things Sino'," came out of my mouth."Correct.""None of the Secret Societies would do something so public. Temujin's background is a mystery, but no one in the Khanate is calling him a reincarnated spirit, and they know the truth," I continued."This guy is pretty nutty," Mehmet confirmed. "He also claims to channel Buddha, Mohammed, Christ and Confucius. His followers worship him as the Earthly manifestation of the 'Supreme Being' named El Cantare, which is yet another name for any number of ancient supreme deities. And he claims to consult with the 'spirit guardians' of national leaders and aids in their mystic defense, with the aid of the Five Sacred Sisters' Spirits."Clearly this man was insane. Unfortunately, insane didn't make someone wrong,"Ah Hell," I muttered.Mehmet and Addison perked up; after all, figuring out the bizarre was my position on the team."He probably is insane, and I can't blame him," I sighed. "He isn't El Cantare; he is in touch with the Weave.""I have a feeling this is 'not good'," Addison murmured. "How bad is it?""The Five Sacred Spirit Sisters are most likely the five augurs who died in order to save Temujin, which, in turn, allies the 9 Clans with the E&S and Amazons to 'save' Japan, though it is not 'saved' yet.""Technically, the Weave IS the Supreme Being. It's largely indifferent, yet capable of doing both good and ill in response to outside (aka mortal) stimuli. If you can observe the Weave, you might be able to see the most likely path destiny is taking as well as the key players screwing with that destiny."That would include the Gong Tau sorcerers and the ninjas use of their own brand of magic; and God only knows what other mystic tricks the others have been attempting.""How do we get them to stop?" Captain Delilah Faircloth muttered."Not that easy Delilah. Everyone in this room has intersected because of a magic experiment that happened before any of us were born (Mom).""The fight at Summer Camp was flipped on its head because I saw the ghost the 7 Pillars sent to scout the area. My freeing of one of those trapped and tortured souls led to the calamity at the Barbeque Pit. I didn't use magic. I countered it. Still, my actions were interfering with the Weave."All four people the augurs, those Five Sisters, told me about had been dead at some point in time, some for thousands of years. Ajax didn't kill anyone using magic. Neither has Saku, yet both of them are products of disruptions in the Weave. 'Me' being alive and breathing is yet another disruption, since I shouldn't exist because of another mystic curse from five thousand years ago."Being alive and killing people means I've killed people who shouldn't be dead. Do we need to go into all the millions that have died in the Khanate war? Which was a combination of a resurrected Temujin and the 7 Pillars hunger for World Domination, if we do nothing, the rippled of those other disruption will still carry on."Except for me, no one on this taskforce has used an iota of magic, yet we are all dedicated to combatting mystical forces," I related to the group. I wondered where Rikki (Martin) and Beatrice (Ya Konan) had gotten off to. Lady Yum-Yum being absent only made my 'Scooby' senses tingle more."You use magic?" Agent-86 tilted his head in curiosity."I talk to a Goddess on a semi-regular business. I see ghosts. I've been the conveyer of messages from dead people and I've killed an un-killable man. Do we need to go back over my kidnapping by the 7 Pillars? The memories of my undead Grandfather floating around in my head?""I'm not calling thunderbolts out of the sky and shooting fireballs out my ass, but what I am doing is magical, nonetheless.""So, what do we recommend to our allies and benefactors (i.e., our sovereign governments)?" Mehmet inquired."Hmm, we tell our governments this crackpot is a Prophet of Doom who could be turned into an asset," I rubbed my brow with all four fingers and a thumb. Rikki, Beatrice and Lady Worthington-Burke quietly entered the room. They were all highly pleased in a 'I just won the lottery' kind of way. I was curious, but had to carry on with my train of thought."Quietly start seeking out other mystic societies, preferably low-key, quiet types who avoid the limelight, and start looking into other forms of magical insight and, quite frankly, protection. If the Weave has let this happen, we can expect worse. Lastly, I'll ask my 'Brother' to meet with this guy and get a feel for his personality.""That will only increase the believability of his ramblings," Addison protested."The boat called 'Denial' has already sailed. The World is in crisis. People are going to look for non-conventional answers. It is better to get ahead of this and bring Ryuho Okawa on board as a 'consultant'. Don't give him the whole picture by any means. The guy is definitely a loose cannon. Even worse, he is also a loose cannon the Weave has touched.""Besides, the Seven Pillars are going to figure this out pretty quick, their Weave sensitivity, ya know, and either kidnap him to be their own spiritual seismic sensor, or kill him for being both a loose cannon and yet another person screwing with their 'best laid plans'. Keeping him alive has the added benefit of making the Seven Pillars expend resources trying to get at him. Japan needs every bit diversion they can get."Let's not forget to tell our Secret Society allies of our plans, lest they kill him too. His babblings aren't going to make the 9 Clans or the E&S happy with him. They both have an established habit of making perceived enemies dead. Let's keep him alive and utilize this opportunity.""I like this plan," Addison nodded. Mehmet was clearly on board as well. Agent-86 clearly was playing the best on-line mystic MMORPG ever! (And with the added bonus that his team's action had real-world consequences.) The three 'ladies' new to the room received an abbreviated version of our discussion and my 'suggestions'. They weren't really suggestions. Barring a few insanely criminal endeavors, JIKIT treated me like a true asset."Something else big?" Addison looked to her British counterpart (Yum-Yum)."The Japanese Diet has voted for a public referendum on a Constitutional Amendment to repeal/revise Article 96 of the Japanese Constitution.""Oh fuck," was echoed, either verbally or subliminally, by everyone in the room except for me, Delilah and Agent-86.'Cáel' knew Jack and Shit about the Japanese Constitution. Hell, I barely knew about the US one and I was a native. However, Alal did know it, and knew both what Article 96 was and what its amendment really meant. Good-old 96 was the rolling dark cloud across the political Great Plains that heralded a swarm of tornados. Clouds were clouds and their arrival could mean anything.Article 96 dictated how the Japanese Constitution could be amended. The current process was a 2/3rd vote in both the House of Councilors (the 'Upper House', roughly equivalent to our Senate) and the House of Representatives (the 'Lower' House) followed by a public referendum. The proposed amendment to Article 96 would transform the process to a mere majority vote in both Houses.Imagine the shit-storm which would be unleashed if the US Congress tried to pull that shit. The biggest political issue was that the Japanese Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) held 294 of the 475 seats in the lower house (a clear majority) and 115 of the 242 in the Upper House (7 seats short of a majority). If the amendment passed next month (October 14th to be precise), the LDP could pretty much do as they pleased.And what was the first thing they were going to do? They were going to put to rest another part of the Constitution, namely the far more globally important Article 9. And what was that?Real World Stuff: WarningsArticle 9:(1)Aspiring sincerely to an international peace based on justice and order, the Japanese people forever renounce war as a sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of force as means of settling international disputes.(2)To accomplish the aim of the preceding paragraph, land, sea, and air forces, as well as other war potential, will never be maintained. The right of belligerency of the state will not be recognized.If Article 9 was repealed, the Japanese nation could exercise diplomacy by military means, aka declaring an offensive war against a foreign power. Currently Japan had a modest budget military budget of $48 Billion a year (Earth's 10th largest). It was modest when you considered it was a mere 1% of the Japanese GDP. Great Britain, France and South Korea's smaller economies all functioned nicely with double that percentage for their military budget.Regionally, every other nation was increasing their military expenditures, except Japan's protector, the US and (perhaps) North Korea, who's spending on anything was a closely guarded state secret. Right now, China and the Khanate's military expenditures were running roughly even at $180 billion each, but this was an arm's race the PRC would eventually win, they had too great an advantage in the size of their workforce and a far larger industrial base.The truth was, if the PRC couldn't win this race fast, she was facing a long, grinding war reminiscent of the Communists' Long Rise to Power that wrecked their country a century ago. The monetary dynamic was shifting badly against them because the Khanate wasn't alone.India, Taiwan and Vietnam were also ramping up their war spending to a combined tune of $34 billion and now allied with the Khanate, equating to an additional $90 billion the PRC had to overcome. South Korea was already adding $8 billion to their military and Russia was taxing the fuck out of Manchuria to both pay for their 'Peaceful Intervention' and to increase the 'Readiness' of their other forces.All of this military spending was bad for both the regional and global economies (unless you were Israel who was turning out hardware 24/7/365 for the Khanate and Indian war machines). So at this point, Japan doing 'nothing' was possibly more disastrous than doing 'something' else.They were already spending $50 fucking billion on glorified policemen while the future of East Asia was being decided without them. Doubling the military budget would place a huge burden on the largely pacifistic population. It would also put Japan in the position of deciding the Fate of Nations.With the repeal of Article 9, Japan could utilize 'proactive means' to keep the naval supply routes to China open, not even the Indian's had the naval presence to confront the Japanese. Such a policy was a nice, friendly gesture to the Asian Colossus, who wasn't likely to show a shred of appreciation for their efforts.No, China had spent the last 60 years stoking the hatred of the Land of the Rising Sun among their people. (Many Japanese forgot current Chinese hatred was based on the Japanese butchering their way across China for nearly a decade between 1937 to 1945).(The Cornerstone) There was a truism which had guided American, Chinese, Japanese and Russian political thought for 150 years: 'There could only be one supreme power in East Asia and the Eastern Pacific'. Japan had followed the logical expression of that paradigm by invading Taiwan (1895), Korea (1910), beating up on Imperial Russia (1904), taking Manchuria (1931) and going to war with China (1937) while that country was trapped in a bloody civil war.To stop the Empire of Japan's rise, the US had attempted to cripple the Japanese economy before the Empire could harvest their just-acquired Asian natural resources. In response, Japan had thrown its soldiers and sailors into a futile effort against the British Empire, the United States and China and lost.With Imperial Japan crushed and the Soviet Union preoccupied in Europe, China had risen. The irresistible force of China's rapidly increasing population, natural resources exploitation and extensive land mass took hold. Japan couldn't compete in a 'fair' fight. Since 1945, the Japanese government had lived with the fear of aggression from Russia and/or China aimed their way.The US felt the same way, or they had. The fear produced by the broad acceptance of 'Only-One-Shall-Rule-Asia' had led to the Korean War, the half-century cease-fire along the Demilitarized Zone in Korea and the Vietnamese Civil War. The Communists in China and Russia had feuded until the Soviet Union collapsed under its own economic inadequacies.A reborn Russia, even with the ultra-nationalist Putin at the helm, couldn't stop China's growing domination. Asia was China's for the taking, until the Khanate rose up like some desert mirage in the Western Steppe, one that turned into the Mother of All Storms. So now, miraculously, the dominion of Asia was up for grabs once more.Japan could not overcome China; that was a given. The Dragon had more people, more resources and an almost three-fold larger economy. Given a decade, the PRC would grind the Khanate down. Once more it was the tyranny of numbers. Even India, Taiwan and Vietnam could only slow down the inevitable.India's subpar economic output marginalized the power of their citizenry. Taiwan had the proportional economy, but not nearly enough people. Vietnam had neither and had always had a rough time defending themselves, much less been successful confronting powers beyond her homeland. Putin's Mother Russia had a host of other problems, internal and external, so she had already contributed as much as Putin dared.Until Thursday morning, Tokyo Time, the undeniable Destiny of Asia remained in the hands of those men in Beijing. The dominoes were falling in a way those rulers had not foreseen and now fumed over. But on Wednesday night, there was no industrial power (with the population to back it up) which could threaten the People's Republic of China.Europe and the US wouldn't intervene. Much like the leadership in Japan, the Communist Chinese Politburo believed Putin had wagered as much as dared. No other nation on Earth mattered. Japan? That was laughable. Their Constitution bound the hands off their military behind their backs with a pledge of eternal pacifism.The Chinese weren't blind to the 250,000 men and women of the Japanese Self Defense Force. Without the political will, those troops might have well have been in Brazil. A hostile Brazil was actually a greater worry because Brazil was the powerhouse of South America, a G-8 economy and hungered for a Permanent Seat on the UN Security Council. The PRC was dedicated to denying their desire as it would have diluted the PRC's burgeoning diplomatic power.Japan? Ha.Thursday morning, in what was essentially an undetected (by anyone except the Ninja and JIKIT) coup d' tat, pacifism was sacrificed on the Altar of Nationalism. Article 96's demise was pre-ordained. A poll taken on July 1st, 42% of Japanese felt positively about the repeal of Article 96 while 46% opposed it.The same agency took a new poll on August 28th. The economic-political situation of Japan was going through a titanic tidal shift. If Buddhism moved you toward devout pacifist, the Khanate had liberated Tibet and was clearly withdrawing as the UN troops' boots hit the ground.If you were a Nationalist of any kind, you were seeing a whole lot more people at your rallies, accessing your websites and signing up to join your formerly fringe parties. If you were a Socialist, you were scared. Why? The PRC was in the process of nationalizing all of Japan's (and South Korea's and Taiwan's) business interests in China, for the 'Duration of the Emergency', or so they said.That meant plenty of Japanese workers were losing their jobs and looking to blame someone. You couldn't blame the centrist LDP. The LDP had been working alongside the Japanese Communist Party for months. They had done nothing wrong and had worked tirelessly for a peaceful diplomatic solution. It was their 'comrades' in China, their Marxist confederates, who were costing the hard-working Japanese workers their jobs.If you were in the Establishment, all of the above worried the crap out of you. Japan's economy had been limping along at barely-positive growth for a decade. Your aging population needed more and more from their public services and, worst of all, you had nothing in your political and economic tool box to escape the obvious oncoming national catastrophe.The possibility of a Global Recession loomed on the horizon, if they were lucky. Highly respected economists in Japan and elsewhere were examining all the key indicators over the past three months and were suggesting hording as a viable policy for middle class households to consider. If you were in the Developing World, worse was heading your way.The word being bandied about on those esteemed academic internet websites wasn't 'recession', it was depression. Global prosperity thrived on nations investing in both their own economy and the economies of other nations. The governments representing a third of the World's population were not investing in their economies.Unless you were a war profiteer, you could expect fewer consumer goods on the shelves; and what was there would cost more. Your income wasn't going up; your expenses were. If you were an Atheistic homeowner in the Western World with a secured 3.25% fixed rate home loan, you took up religion. The prime interest rate would be racing for the 20% mark and that was only if your economy was stable.If you lived in a country in the Developing World, your trade goods didn't compete with those created in the G-20. Your competition was with other Developing World businesses and the prize was the pocketbooks of those consumers in the G-20, which was a shrinking purse.It wasn't like you were being paid all that much to begin with; and now those once poor-paying, but at least plentiful, jobs were drying up. You needed your government to help you out. It wasn't like those governments could raise money by taxing the unemployed and under-employed. They didn't have money. And the rich in most of those same nations had a long and successful legacy of avoiding paying.Those growing economies had a few tried and tested 'solutions' for getting their countries through these rough stretches.The IMF? 'We are out to make 'positive' capital investments and your economic outlook doesn't look promising. We suggest 'austerity'.'The BRICS? Since India and China were basically in an undeclared state of war: 'we won't be loaning anyone anything for a while.'The BIS? 'As soon as the People' Bank of China, the Reserve Bank of India, the Central Bank of Ireland, the Bank of Israel and the Central Bank of the Republic of Turkey get back to us about their sudden, serious lack of transparency, we'll call you back.'World Bank? Holy Shit! 'The world's going down the toilet, we will do what we can.'F Y I, I (as in Cáel) had been wrong. The 6 Elders of the Ninja families didn't talk to Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee. They talked with another, far more immediately important man. So sue me (Cáel) for not knowing the inner workings of various world governments, and creatively interpreting events surrounding all those people I (Cáel) didn't. I'm a freaking Liberal Arts major with a fertile imagination, not a superspy, or even a competent Intelligence Analyst!}The Japanese government had appealed to the U.S., U.N., P.R.C., A.S.E.A.N., India; and (through back channels aka JIKIT) the Khanate for an end to this madness; all with typical results:The U.S.A: We are working on it (without letting them know what precisely they were working on)Japan: Well, do something fast. Our Government Bonds are about to be more useful as wallpaper.The U.N.: We are working on it (with their long-established tradition of not doing anything until the crisis had passed)Japan: You are preparing to pass a Resolution to move this matter from the First Committee to the Fourth Committee, gee, thanks guys. Will they be meeting sometime before Christmas?The PRC: We are too busy right now, so shut up, keep the trade lanes open, and was that your submarine we detected sneaking into our territorial waters?Japan: What? What do you mean you are 'too busy?' You are one of our biggest trading partners, your economy is going down the toilet, and, No! That was not our submarine in your territorial waters. That accusation is absurd.(Note from Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee, to Admiral Katsutoshi Kawano, head of the JMSDF {the de facto Japanese Navy}), The PRC has made this outrageous claim that one of our submarines has been sneaking around their territorial waters. There is no truth to that rumor, right?Kawano: Which time?Prime Minister: Oh My God! What have you people been doing and why is this the first time I'm hearing about it?Kawano: Sir, if you are just now getting around to asking us, you don't want to know.Prime Minister: What do you mean 'I don't want to know?' I'm the head of the damn government and, you are right. Fine. There is no way I'm going back to the Chinese Ambassador and apologizing for any this. Is there any way this can come back to screw us over?Kawano: With all these US and British submarines helping us out, not very likely, Prime Minister.Prime Minister: Oh, very good. You are correct, I don't want to know what you 'haven't' been doing. I am ordering you to destroy all transcripts and recordings of this conversation.Kawano: It has been my distinct honor not having this conversation with you, Prime Minister. Sayōnara.ASEAN, What do you expect us to do about this? Have you seen the unimpressive combined sizes of our members' air forces and navies? Did you see the smack-down the Khanate has inflicted on the PLAN's South China Sea Fleet?Besides, the PRC is claiming that the Khanate launched covert attacks against the Parcels and Spratly islands which originated from Indonesian and Filipino waters. We are investigating the issue. If you are asking us for help, you are truly screwed. Don't call us. We will call you.Japan, {muttering} Investigating the attacks that came from your territory, bullshit! You are covering your own asses, damn it!(Note from Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee, to Shotaro Yachi, Japanese National Security Advisor), I've heard an ugly rumor that the Khanate has forces secreted in the Philippines and Indonesia. Do you happen to know anything about it?Yachi: Yes Sir. We had advance notice of the organization, composition and destination of those forces.Awbee (while muttering 'no one tells me anything anymore'): What the! Would you please tell me what is going on.Yachi: We have made critical steps toward future alliances which will guarantee Japanese security for decades to come.Awbee What does that mean, and since when have you been creating and implementing foreign policy? We have a Minister for that, in case you somehow over-looked him at the last cabinet meeting. Wait! Does he know about this too?Yachi: No Sir, Foreign Minister Kishida is currently unaware of the Kinkyū tokushu sakusen tasukufōsu (Emergency Special Operations Task Force). Admiral Katsutoshi knows the basics of our operational policy, since we need to borrow some of his assets from time to time. Director-General Kitada (of the Public Security Intelligence Agency) and key personnel from the Foreign Ministry's Intelligence & Analysis Service and Security Bureau make up the majority of the task force's operatives.Awbee: What have you been doing?Yachi: You don't want to know, Mr. Prime Minister. It would make things, awkward.Awbee: 'You don't want to know', of course, I don't. I'm only the elected head of this government. Why would I possibly want to know what acts of espionage and war my deputies are executing?Yachi: I am glad we are on the same page, Sir. Will there be anything else?Awbee: No, wait. Do you have any intelligence on what the Khanate is up to?Yachi: Yes Sir. Is there anything in particular you want to know?Analysis Services: Can you contact someone in their leadership willing to discuss regional affairs?Yachi: I can put you in touch with the Great Khan himself if necessary.AS: What!Yachi: Sir, I would hardly be acting in our nation's best interests if I couldn't divine the intentions of the key players on the stage. Shall I initiate the necessary communications to facilitate that level of clandestine diplomatic contact?AS: No. Yes. No, I need to think about this. Hmm, have you been conducting any domestic espionage missions?Yachi: You don't want me to answer that, Sir.Awbee: of course I don't, I'm only the damn Prime Minister. Shotaro, I'm still Prime Minister, aren't I?Yachi: Yes Sir. We have been working overtime to ensure that. We've foiled two enemy assassination attempts and one attempted kidnapping so far. We remain vigilant.AS: How come this is the first I'm hearing about it? Is the head of my security in on this conspiracy of yours too?Yachi: No Sir. These particular guardians wish to avoid notoriety at all costs.Awbee: Okay. Good to know. Ah, keep up the good work and destroy any trace of this conversation.Yachi: Way ahead of you, Sir. Have a good night.India, Yes, we are more than willing to work with you toward regional stability. Care to acknowledge the Khanate's legitimacy first? We'd really appreciate it. Sure, get back to us when you've done that. Until then, the South China Sea Awaits! Yes, we plan to keep what we've earned. Later now. We think there is going to be further instability in Southeast Asia.Japan, Ya think? It is your damn warships sailing around the freaking South China Sea enforcing your utterly un-secret alliance with the Khanate. Why are you doing this to us? What have we ever done to you?The Khanate, We are not out to damage your national interests. We apologize, but there is now way we will call off this war with the Communist Chinese. It is them, or us, to the death. We have already received and agreed to your request to allow all Japanese flagged ships safe transit through the South China Sea. We really wish to be your friends this time, to make up for those two invasion attempts seven hundred years ago.(Note from  Prime Minister to Self) Great. The only reasonable people who aren't out to kick me in the nuts are also the ones I can't acknowledge talking to. I've got to do something a

Huffington Post, CNN,  New York Times Best-SellingSpiritual teacher, health and wellness expert, and New York Times best-selling author Deborah King was a successful attorney in her 20s when a diagnosis of cancer sent her on a search for truth that radically changed her life. Unwilling to undergo invasive surgery, she turned to alternative medicine and had an amazing remission. Along the way, she conquered the alcohol and drug addictions she had used to bury an abusive childhood. Leaving the corporate arena for the world of energy medicine, Deborah mastered ancient and modern healing systems, ultimately developing a powerful healing technique of her own.She has since gone on to develop LifeForce Energy Healing and Coaching courses that both teach and transform. Her New York Times best-selling Be Your Own Shaman and Truth Heals take you behind the scenes and into the world of energy medicine. Her newest book, Entangled in Darkness: Seeking the Light, takes you around the world exploring the path of enlightenment.Deborah is featured regularly in broadcast, online, and print media. She makes frequent appearances on national TV, & her own show " Deborah King and the Band", she is regularly featured in The Huffington Post and Psychology. W magazine calls Deborah's work “electrifying!” ~ DeborahKing.com© 2025 Building Abundant Success!!2025 All Rights ReservedJoin Me on ~ iHeart Radio @ https://tinyurl.com/iHeartBASSpot Me on Spotify: https://tinyurl.com/yxuy23baAmazon ~ https://tinyurl.com/AmzBAS

Shay Byrne, Host of Rising Time

Two hours before Franklin County Commissioner Kevin Boyce was to be the keynote speaker at the Columbus VA annual MLK lunch, an organizer told Mr. Boyce he could not mention DEI topics or anything deemed "politically charged" due to President Donald Trump's executive orders limiting DEI in the federal government. Unwilling to compromise his values, Kevin withdrew from the event.“It was an insult to demand that I restrict my comments to not include equity and inclusion, I can't separate diversity from the memory of Dr. King,” Kevin Boyce believes that the opposite of poverty is justice. With funding provided by Franklin County Board of Commissioners and the City of Columbus, the Rise Together Innovation Institute is on a mission to harness the collective power of people and systems to disrupt structural racism and issues of poverty. Kevin's father was killed when he was just 7 years old. He credits his mother and grandmother for inspiring his success – and thanks teachers, coaches and his grandmother for convincing a judge to give him a stern warning, not time in juvenile detention, after a street fight landed him in court. He was 16. The brawl began with Kevin defending a bullied friend but ended with a charge of aggravated rioting. His unblemished record, accolades from teachers and coaches and a heart-felt letter from grandmother, resulted in a second chance.Today, Kevin's oldest son attends Brown University on a scholarship. “When I think that I grew up in a house that didn't always have electricity or running water, and now I have a son attending an Ivy League school, I hope I can use my abilities to help other kids get the opportunities they need to succeed,'' he said.Kevin became the first in his family to earn a college degree – a bachelor's degree from the University of Toledo. It's there he met political science professor Jack Ford, who would later serve as minority leader of the Ohio House of Representatives. Seeing Kevin's affinity for public policy and passion to improve his community, Ford talked Kevin into coming to Columbus with him. He eventually rose to become Ford's chief of staff.

     This week- we celebrate our 400th episode with a four pack of films, each tailored to our individual tastes. Apparently, we all like crime. A lot.     When Drew returns home after a long time away, this adoptive sister lover concocts a plan to escape with the addict of his eye. Even if it means murdering their adoptive father. Unfortunately, Papa isn't as slow as everyone else and makes plans of his own. An early film from John Swab, a favorite filmmaker of Tyler's, about existential criminal crisis in the Bible Belt- Let Me Make You a Martyr.     Cerebral and coolheaded Detective Somerset is looking forward to retiring at the end of the week. His replacement, young and brash Detective Mills, arrives just in time for a little touch passing and training. Unfortunately for them both, this all happens just as a serial killer with a religiously inspire masterplan announces his arrival in sadistic fashion. Both a number close to Kevin's heart and widely considered on of director David Fincher's best films- Seven.     In 1964, Johnny Bartlett was executed for killing 12 people at the local hospital. In 1990 Frank Bannister's wife died under mysterious circumstances with the number "13" craved into her forehead. The trauma leaves Frank with the ability to communicate with ghosts. Now Frank leads a pack of spirited haunters and is about to learn that Bartlett's rampage might not be as far in the past as everyone assumes it it. An uneven goofy romp with deeply disturbing meta undertones, just like Dave, and the first major effects project helmed by Peter Jackson- The Frighteners.     Gal and his wife have long since left their seedy London criminal origins for a nice quiet life in Spain. When they get the news that an old psychotic associate, Don, will soon be arriving with a job offer. Unwilling to take no for an answer and with a violent temper that knows little restraint, Gal just might find himself back with the gang for one more heist. The first feature from Craig's favorite director and costarring a fistful of his favorite actors- Sexy Beast.     All that and a twist ending that leaves three of the Raiders devastated. Join us, won't you?  Episode 400- 400 (Unsimulated) Blows

For Episode 55, Andrene and Joel dig into 1993's comedy "Cool Runnings". Loosely based on a true story, the movie follows a Jamaican sprinter (Leon) who is disqualified from the Olympics. Unwilling to give up on his dream of competing on the world's biggest stage, he enlists a former coach (John Candy) to start Jamaica's first bobsled team.

In this episode, we are talking about the movie Saturday Night, and Brian Cashman's comments on Gleyber Torres team spirit! https://www.youtube.com/ @powellnotfound  https://www.instagram.com/powellnotfoundpodcasthttps://www.tiktok.com/@powellnotfound https://twitter.com/powellnotfoundhttps://www.facebook.com/powellnotfound/Like, subscribe, and leave a comment.https://www.youtube.com/ @powellnotfound https://www.instagram.com/powellnotfoundpodcasthttps://www.tiktok.com/@powellnotfound https://twitter.com/powellnotfoundhttps://www.facebook.com/powellnotfound/Like, subscribe, and leave a comment. - Mark

“In the fall of 1980, when I was fourteen, a friend of my parents named Naomi Shah fell in love with me. She was thirty-six, a mother of two, and married to a wealthy man. Like so many things that happened to me that year, it didn't seem strange at the time.” Griffin Hurt is in over his head. Between his role as Peter Proton on the hit TV show The Nuclear Family and the pressure of high school at New York's elite Boyd Prep—along with the increasingly compromising demands of his wrestling coach—he's teetering on the edge of collapse. Then comes Naomi Shah, twenty-two years Griffin's senior. Unwilling to lay his burdens on his shrink—whom he shares with his father, mother, and younger brother, Oren—Griffin soon finds himself in the back of Naomi's Mercedes sedan, again and again, confessing all to the one person who might do him the most harm. Less a bildungsroman than a story of miseducation, Playworld: A Novel (Knopf, 2025) is a novel of epic proportions, bursting with laughter and heartache. Adam Ross immerses us in the life of Griffin and his loving (yet disintegrating) family while seeming to evoke the entirety of Manhattan and the ethos of an era—with Jimmy Carter on his way out and a B-list celebrity named Ronald Reagan on his way in. Surrounded by adults who embody the age's excesses—and who seem to care little about what their children are up to—Griffin is left to himself to find the line between youth and maturity, dependence and love, acting and truly grappling with life. ADAM ROSS is the author of Mr. Peanut, which was selected as one of the best books of the year by The New York Times, The New Yorker, and The Economist. He has been a fellow in fiction at the American Academy in Berlin and a Hodder Fellow for Fiction at Princeton University. He is editor of The Sewanee Review. Born and raised in New York City, he now lives in Nashville, Tennessee, with his two daughters. Recommended Books: Edward P Jones, The Known World Ben Austin, Correction: Parole, Prison, and the Possibility of Change Melissa Febos, The Dry Season  Chris Holmes is Chair of Literatures in English and Associate Professor at Ithaca College. He writes criticism on contemporary global literatures. His book, Kazuo Ishiguro Against World Literature, is published with Bloomsbury Publishing. He is the co-director of The New Voices Festival, a celebration of work in poetry, prose, and playwriting by up-and-coming young writers. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

“In the fall of 1980, when I was fourteen, a friend of my parents named Naomi Shah fell in love with me. She was thirty-six, a mother of two, and married to a wealthy man. Like so many things that happened to me that year, it didn't seem strange at the time.” Griffin Hurt is in over his head. Between his role as Peter Proton on the hit TV show The Nuclear Family and the pressure of high school at New York's elite Boyd Prep—along with the increasingly compromising demands of his wrestling coach—he's teetering on the edge of collapse. Then comes Naomi Shah, twenty-two years Griffin's senior. Unwilling to lay his burdens on his shrink—whom he shares with his father, mother, and younger brother, Oren—Griffin soon finds himself in the back of Naomi's Mercedes sedan, again and again, confessing all to the one person who might do him the most harm. Less a bildungsroman than a story of miseducation, Playworld: A Novel (Knopf, 2025) is a novel of epic proportions, bursting with laughter and heartache. Adam Ross immerses us in the life of Griffin and his loving (yet disintegrating) family while seeming to evoke the entirety of Manhattan and the ethos of an era—with Jimmy Carter on his way out and a B-list celebrity named Ronald Reagan on his way in. Surrounded by adults who embody the age's excesses—and who seem to care little about what their children are up to—Griffin is left to himself to find the line between youth and maturity, dependence and love, acting and truly grappling with life. ADAM ROSS is the author of Mr. Peanut, which was selected as one of the best books of the year by The New York Times, The New Yorker, and The Economist. He has been a fellow in fiction at the American Academy in Berlin and a Hodder Fellow for Fiction at Princeton University. He is editor of The Sewanee Review. Born and raised in New York City, he now lives in Nashville, Tennessee, with his two daughters. Recommended Books: Edward P Jones, The Known World Ben Austin, Correction: Parole, Prison, and the Possibility of Change Melissa Febos, The Dry Season  Chris Holmes is Chair of Literatures in English and Associate Professor at Ithaca College. He writes criticism on contemporary global literatures. His book, Kazuo Ishiguro Against World Literature, is published with Bloomsbury Publishing. He is the co-director of The New Voices Festival, a celebration of work in poetry, prose, and playwriting by up-and-coming young writers. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

“In the fall of 1980, when I was fourteen, a friend of my parents named Naomi Shah fell in love with me. She was thirty-six, a mother of two, and married to a wealthy man. Like so many things that happened to me that year, it didn't seem strange at the time.” Griffin Hurt is in over his head. Between his role as Peter Proton on the hit TV show The Nuclear Family and the pressure of high school at New York's elite Boyd Prep—along with the increasingly compromising demands of his wrestling coach—he's teetering on the edge of collapse. Then comes Naomi Shah, twenty-two years Griffin's senior. Unwilling to lay his burdens on his shrink—whom he shares with his father, mother, and younger brother, Oren—Griffin soon finds himself in the back of Naomi's Mercedes sedan, again and again, confessing all to the one person who might do him the most harm. Less a bildungsroman than a story of miseducation, Playworld: A Novel (Knopf, 2025) is a novel of epic proportions, bursting with laughter and heartache. Adam Ross immerses us in the life of Griffin and his loving (yet disintegrating) family while seeming to evoke the entirety of Manhattan and the ethos of an era—with Jimmy Carter on his way out and a B-list celebrity named Ronald Reagan on his way in. Surrounded by adults who embody the age's excesses—and who seem to care little about what their children are up to—Griffin is left to himself to find the line between youth and maturity, dependence and love, acting and truly grappling with life. ADAM ROSS is the author of Mr. Peanut, which was selected as one of the best books of the year by The New York Times, The New Yorker, and The Economist. He has been a fellow in fiction at the American Academy in Berlin and a Hodder Fellow for Fiction at Princeton University. He is editor of The Sewanee Review. Born and raised in New York City, he now lives in Nashville, Tennessee, with his two daughters. Recommended Books: Edward P Jones, The Known World Ben Austin, Correction: Parole, Prison, and the Possibility of Change Melissa Febos, The Dry Season  Chris Holmes is Chair of Literatures in English and Associate Professor at Ithaca College. He writes criticism on contemporary global literatures. His book, Kazuo Ishiguro Against World Literature, is published with Bloomsbury Publishing. He is the co-director of The New Voices Festival, a celebration of work in poetry, prose, and playwriting by up-and-coming young writers. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/literature

You like where you live, but there's no telling who (or what) is lurking next door. The possibilities are terrifying. You already know the major plot points: what they drive, how often they mow, who they voted for. You do your best to avoid them. The thought of mail-box small talk with these monsters sends shivers down your spine. Shouldn't we all just mind our own business and keep to ourselves? But… what if the most nightmarish neighbor you know looks at you in the mirror every morning? Jesus seemed to think loving your neighbors was a big deal. But did He mean it? How does someone even become a Bad Neighbor anyway?

Grandpa Bill's Grunts & Groans@billholt8792 YouTube@billholt8792 Grandpa Bill's YouT ube Musings: The Art of Asking Powerful Questions" Welcome to the channel, friends! Today, Ganpa Bill is diving deep into the art of asking powerful questions.

Many “Christians” Are Unwilling to Come to the God in Penitence to Repent; They Do Not Have the “fire of God” or the Holy Spirit's Engagement MESSAGE SUMMARY: We must maintain constant repentance with the Lord. Every relationship in our life is a day-by-day journey; therefore, our relationship with the Lord is, also, a continuous journey. In 2 Corinthians 7:10, Paul succinctly describes the difference between “grief” and “sorrow” for our sinful actions and true repentance: “For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death.". God can show us those things, in our lives, that He wants us to do or not do. Some of us have the “pilot light lit” because we have asked Jesus to bring the Holy Spirit into our lives; however, the “furnace isn't engaged”. The “fire of God” is not in our lives because we are not willing to come to the Lord in penitence and to repent.   TODAY'S PRAYER: Lord, I come this day inviting you to cut those deeply entrenched chains that keep me from being faithful to my true self in Christ. In doing so, may my life be a blessing to many. In Jesus' name, amen.      Scazzero, Peter. Emotionally Healthy Spirituality Day by Day (p. 44). Zondervan. Kindle Edition. TODAY'S AFFIRMATION: Today, Because of who I am in Jesus Christ, I will not be driven by Loneliness. Rather, I will abide in the Lord's Presence. “I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in Me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5). SCRIPTURE REFERENCE (ESV): Mathew 3:8-11; Romans 2:4-5; Psalms 32:5; Psalms 120:1-7. A WORD FROM THE LORD WEBSITE: www.AWFTL.org. THIS SUNDAY'S AUDIO SERMON: You can listen to Archbishop Beach's Current Sunday Sermon: “Beginnings in Prayer – Part 1: How is Your Prayer Life; Is Anything in Your Life More Important than Prayer?”, at our Website: https://awordfromthelord.org/listen/ DONATE TO AWFTL: https://mygiving.secure.force.com/GXDonateNow?id=a0Ui000000DglsqEAB

Are you ambitious? Do you ever feel like ambition has a negative connotation? In this empowering episode of The Abundance Journey, Elaine Starling sits down with Amira Alvarez, founder and CEO of The Unstoppable Woman and host of a top 2% podcast worldwide, to reframe what ambition really means—and why it's essential to living your most authentic, fulfilled life. Amira shares her personal journey of achieving a five-fold income increase in one year and building a multi-million-dollar business while refusing to compromise her drive, spirituality, or joy. Together, Elaine and Amira dive deep into: • The power of harmonizing ambition with Divine alignment. • How to shift from “hustle and grind” to spacious, purpose-driven success. • The difference between accomplishment and true fulfillment—and why you can have both. • Practical steps to uncover your deepest desires and align your actions with your soul's purpose. Plus, Amira reveals how high-achieving women can embrace their unique ambition without fear of judgment or burnout and create a life that's not just successful, but exquisitely fulfilling. About the Guest:(bio, personal links, resource links)Amira Alvarez, a UC Berkeley graduate, is the Founder and CEO of 'The Unstoppable Woman®' and host of the top 2% podcast worldwide, 'The Unstoppable Woman® Podcast.' She is an entrepreneur, private mentor, and trusted advisor for the ambitious woman. Amira inspires already accomplished women to achieve further financial wealth and success while leading fulfilling lives. After achieving a remarkable fivefold income increase in one year and building a multimillion-dollar company, she found a way to create harmony between ambition, spaciousness, and contentment.Unwilling to compromise her drive for success, she crafted a methodology for an Exquisite Life, allowing individuals to embrace their inner drive while finding deep fulfillment. Her path guides high-achieving women toward a life rich inside and out, where they realize their dreams without diminishing their hard-earned successes. Amira challenges the notion that we can't have it all, redefining what's possible for ambitious women.How to Show Support: Check out https://theunstoppablewoman.com/ and schedule a call if it resonates with you.Social Media Links:https://theunstoppablewoman.com/https://www.linkedin.com/in/theunstoppablewomanwithamiraalvarez/https://www.instagram.com/alvarezamira/ https://www.tiktok.com/@theunstoppablewomanhttps://www.youtube.com/channel/UC2kG4g27m05u-avkSja3iwAhttps://www.facebook.com/theustoppablewoman/About the Host, Elaine Starling: (bio, personal links, resource links)An international TEDx speaker, bestselling author, coach and mentor, Elaine Starling is recognized for her video show and podcast, The Abundance Journey.After a comprehensive conversation with our higher power during a stroke, Elaine created The Abundance Journey 6 week course to share what she learned. As the Abundance Ambassador, Elaine mentors spiritual, growth-oriented women to align with Divine guidance to achieve their dreams. Elaine's clients experience more clarity, confidence, and commit to action that achieves their goals.Elaine Starling Social Media Links:Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elaine.abundance Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/elainestarling/YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC3eXgwdMYYzLicCEcB1DdrgTEDx Talk, “Abundance Is a Choice” https://youtu.be/tMQ0D4sfEysWebsite: www.TheAbundanceJourney.com5 Steps to Activate Your Abundance Universal Book Link: https://books2read.com/u/3kD9ARThanks for listening!Thanks so much for listening to...

Pastor Delbert Denny preaches a message called "Unwilling to Let Go" from Genesis 19:23-26.---Parkview Church exists to glorify God through the whole church forming whole disciples for the good of all people.Website: www.parkviewchurch.orgInstagram/Facebook: @parkviewchurchic

In this week's episode, my sister Lindsey and I watch the Netflix holiday film A Christmas Prince and provide live commentary. Happy Holidays! When junior editor Amber (Rose McIver) is finally assigned a story of her own, it means she'll have to miss Christmas in New York City with her widowed father. She's sent abroad to get the inside scoop on dashing playboy Prince Richard (Ben Lamb), who's in line to be King of Aldovia following his father's recent death. However, a media conference at the palace is cancelled before it begins when the prince doesn't show up. Unwilling to give up and go home without a story, Amber doesn't get back on the media bus that's taking the journalists back into town. She sneaks in a side entrance of the castle and is mistaken for Princess Emily's new American tutor, who was due to arrive after the holidays. Amber goes along with it, saying her last assignment ended early. She winds up living at the palace as the tutor for Prince Richard's younger sister. While there, she tries to get as much information as possible about whether or not Richard is going to accept the throne, or whether he's planning to give it up and let his cousin Simon ascend to the throne instead Starring Rose McIver and Ben Lamb.   This podcast is hosted and produced by Bethanie Finger. Special Guest Lindsey Myers with special appearances by Quentin Finger and Scamp Finger.

In this inspiring episode, I speak with Amira Alvarez, founder of The Unstoppable Woman, about what it means to be unstoppable, and how introverts and quiet achievers can step into their power. Amira shares her personal journey, how she overcame invisible barriers, and the importance of balancing masculine and feminine energies in life and business. She provides practical insights into powering through self-limiting beliefs, learning to receive, and using faith and intellect to take bold steps toward creating an exquisite life.Key Topics Discussed:Amira's Personal Story:Transition from a comfortable, structured life to entrepreneurship and coaching.Realizing the need to change deep-seated beliefs about success, money, and identity.The Concept of Invisible Barriers:How unconscious beliefs block progress.Recognizing and moving through emotional and mental blocks, even when it feels uncomfortable.Balancing Masculine and Feminine Energies:Using masculine energy for structure, discipline, and focus.Embracing feminine energy for creativity, intuition, and receptivity.Achieving harmony to live a more integrated and fulfilling life.Overcoming the Fear of Mistakes:Shifting from a mindset of perfectionism to embracing learning from mistakes.Letting go of childhood beliefs that equate mistakes with unworthiness.Living an Exquisite Life:Understanding that an exquisite life is unique to each individual.Tuning into your true nature and allowing life to unfold authentically.Trusting intuition and taking inspired action.Guest Bio:Amira Alvarez, Founder and CEO of The Unstoppable Woman® and host of The Unstoppable Woman® podcast, is a celebrated entrepreneur, who inspires alreadyaccomplished women to achieve further financial wealth and success while leading fulfilling lives.Unwilling to compromise her drive for success, she crafted a methodology for an exquisite life, allowing individuals to embrace their inner drive while finding deep fulfillment. Her path guides high-achieving women toward a life rich inside and out, where they realize their dreams without diminishing their hard-earned successes.Resources Mentioned:Visit Amira Alvarez's website: TheUnstoppableWoman.com to explore her private podcast and book a consult with her.Connect with Serena Low:Rate and review The Quiet Warrior Podcast: Apple Podcasts | Spotify.Follow Serena on Facebook and Instagram: @quietwarriorcoachSubscribe to The Visible Introvert newsletter for weekly tips.This episode was edited by Aura House Productions

Join host Carry Kim as she welcomes Neil Douglas-Klotz, a distinguished writer, researcher, and musician, to explore the untamed landscape of spirituality and its ancient roots. In this episode, Neil shares insights into how Western society has evolved through the cultural and spiritual extraction from the East, particularly focusing on the indigenous spirituality of the Middle East. Discover the profound impact of mistranslations in religious texts and the importance of reclaiming our spiritual heritage. Neil delves into the rich traditions of Southwest Asia, offering a fresh perspective on the teachings of Jesus, the importance of reconnecting with nature, and the wisdom of ancient nomadic cultures. This episode promises to challenge conventional beliefs and inspire a deeper understanding of spirituality in our modern world. For the past two thousand years, the West has extracted, refined and harnessed the spiritual resources of the Middle East to create and fuel modern culture. “Organized religion” is a relatively new innovation in human affairs, perhaps only two or three thousand years old. For at least ten or twenty times as long, humans participated in a more open-ended, nomadic spirituality — one that embraced healing, ritual, art, poetry, drama, dance and chant to make sense of their existence. Unwilling to look at its own Western religious roots in terms of an indigenous spirituality, Western culture has denied both body and the Earth. Whether we're aware of it or not, we are all influenced by Western culture's distorted version of Middle Eastern cosmology, psychology and spirituality. In this episode, Neil Douglas Klotz joins us to reclaim the wild landscape of spirituality, and the original interdependent existence of our inheritance where all life is sacred. He invites us to embrace unity through diversity as a way forward for humanity. For an extended interview and other benefits, become an EcoJustice Radio patron at https://www.patreon.com/ecojusticeradio LINKS Neil Douglas-Klotz, Ph.D. [https://abwoon.org] is a renowned writer, researcher, teacher, and musician in the fields of Middle Eastern spirituality and the translation and interpretation of the ancient Semitic languages of Hebrew, Aramaic, and Arabic. Living in Scotland, he was for many years the co-chair of the Mysticism Group of the American Academy of Religion. A frequent speaker and workshop leader, he is the author of several books on the Aramaic spirituality of Jesus including Prayers of the Cosmos and Revelations of the Aramaic Jesus, as well as books on Native Middle Eastern spirituality and Sufism. Carry Kim, Co-Host of EcoJustice Radio. An advocate for ecosystem restoration, Indigenous lifeways, and a new humanity born of connection and compassion, she is a long-time volunteer for SoCal350, member of Ecosystem Restoration Camps, and a co-founder of the Soil Sponge Collective, a grassroots community organization dedicated to big and small scale regeneration of Mother Earth. Podcast Website: http://ecojusticeradio.org/ Podcast Blog: https://www.wilderutopia.com/category/ecojustice-radio/ Support the Podcast: Patreon https://www.patreon.com/ecojusticeradio PayPal https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=LBGXTRM292TFC&source=url Executive Producer and Intro: Jack Eidt Hosted by Carry Kim Engineer and Original Music: Blake Quake Beats Episode 240

"Pride goes before destruction; a haughty spirit before a fall." - Proverbs 16:18The founder of Swink's Creations Mark Swink is making his second solo appearance on the show today and we're taking a little trip down memory lane to kick things off.  Mark and Jay are unpacking what has kept Mark in business and successful for over 40 years, the joy and overwhelming sense of right that comes from helping a child by being a foster parent, and we're taking some time to discuss Mark's very strong faith and the paths that has led him down throughout his life.  We've got some real inspirational stuff happening today on this episode of The Culture Matters Podcast.

Co-Pastor Rev. Colin Holtz preached on November 24, 2024. The Church at Ponce & Highland is a multiracial, pro-LGBTQ, economically diverse, member-led church in intown Atlanta. We value radical inclusivity, thoughtful spirituality, and caring community. To learn more, hit subscribe or visit http://churchatponceandhighland.org/

She's REAL! I'm telling you she is. Sweetie, I know you have had a lot going on lately, but— I'm serious! She was sitting in the audience! She had the same glasses on and everything! Oh, come on. I should be meditating. The likelyhood that I might actually be belonging into a hive mind has recently kept me from furiously masturbating. Bad news for the helicopter making a habit of hovering outside my window. Here's hoping she's dressed this time! [F-f-f-f] Nope. Synopsis “The child within” A frustrated present day Drew Barrymore sees a familiar face in the audience of her hit daytime tv show—formerly thought of as her imaginary friend, from a very young age, Ms. Drew Barrymore has not seen the mysterious figure since her first major film role, after which she mysteriously disappeared— the creature, a time traveling and shapeshifting multidimentional tasked with the duty of bringing future celebrities from one realm into another—and even sometimes perhaps preventing obstacles or adversaries in their path along the way— must meet the future stars and alert them of their unique qualities, nurturing the intrinsic sense of charisma and charm that will supply value to the subject's career and lifetime achievements— In attempting to convince a room full of New York's own fabrication of Hollywood TV People that a figure drew even thought herself to have supposedly re-emerged, she is met with judgement and dismissal, even by “her people”, during which a small piece of her spirit— “The Child Within” angrily breaks away from her adult self; in a sense, they are both invisible—as no one will seriously listen to Drew's rationalizations or theories, and reccomend more intensive mental health care and treatment—and as the child within, unseen and unheard loses her patience in the inevitable invisibility, she separates herself to presume her former mission; finding that ‘very strange lady' whom with she had beforehand seemingly adventures with timelessly. So that's where I left off. Pretty much— Doesn't this lady just— Whatever, I do have more things to do than I thought. I'll have to get back to it later. I wrote this days ago; I didn't write it—but I've been thinking about it, so there it is. Maybe— Whatever. More coffee. I've been starting my days between 6 and 8 PM with very strong cups of coffee— Compliments of the Television people, of course. What about that other storyline— the one where she's like a spy or something? You mean Charlie's Angeles! No, I mean like actual CIA. What was she even doing? I don't know; looking mad serious in a blazer. Posh. So very, {Enter The Multiverse} NO, BILLIE! WHYYYYYYYY! WHYYYYYYYYYYYY. Cause it's shark week. WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS HAVE TI DO WITH SHARKS?! I Dont know yet. I know better than to Click a photo of you, when I've been thinking of you Too much Aren't you –At least Curious (To say the least, but–( Learned enough The first time Second time Third time Fourth rung don't care Time's up Problem solved I know better (Just a touch.) I know better The world is mad I know better Fingers crossed I know better I'm all alone I know better I know better I heard my neck break at the end of the rope I heard a gunshot in the distance We all wondered which sounded better The rock i'm under (A curse, or a spell?) A blood bond ritual An occult oath, it's Too many simpletons, Singletons, scratch and sniff, motion pictures Who art thou? Who art I not? Very well. No more, if you would remain. As I must. And yet, I have come to end thy reign. Very well. Oh, again? Oh, as always. I've done nothing in my right to mark tirade. Many ears. –and many hearts. Take mine, an honor. Your head, i'd rather. Say again. I'd rather your head. Very well. Dismiss, you. They are as one. A fair right. It's not as bad as you think. It's worse than it was. Now there's stuff all over it. What is this stuff?! Don't worry about it. There are tears. No remains. No remains. None at all? I'd rather burn than buried. And your Kingdom? –I'd rather burn than buried. Or–? Or buried than burned, but gone at all. Gone at once. As with this. So it is. It's not in the blood; You won't find it. –I'll find it. Not that way. __ GODDDAMN. YOu'RE SO DUMB. You're so fucking–stupid. I'm a genius. Not for long! You're a dead man. Your highness! And who is this? His highness's executioner; perhaps also yours. On what charges?! Dismissal at once. On my time! –and tell no others of this. –and you? Steady well in my greeting. And how? A lady upon a throne, not I, but still fair castel And wages of ageless. So it doesn't matter! So it doesn't. So it can't–matter Shouldn't have to. Somebody just kill this poor fuck already. On it. Oh, I get it. It's his face. L E G E N D S - ASCENSION Listen, Potter; I don't know how you did this! I don't know how I did this! I'm not Harry Potter! My name is Daniel Radcliffe, and– This place should be spotless. It is…spotless. {Enter The Multiverse} When you think you're hearing voices, But you're actually telepathic.; I think it's getting worse now; I wish I was just manic I think I need a manager; I think I need some magic, I think I got a half an oz Just sitting my my backpack That's a lot of cocaine, man. It's not that much. It's more than regular. That's fair. Way, way more. More than usual. I am very wasted. Just let me touch your face And let the age sit in Take in the day The cage sits in a mailbox And it withers with my divedends, Still, I'm writing Heroism, hedonism Circumstance, Frantic as an orgasm, And laughs just as much hard as that I came in color These marginal differences, I've been levitating, Marrying the thought of just l Decapitating every nation. Severed heads as one, To stand the wicked bodies Oaths if over oceans stand as borders Who deserves to sail For failures craving fortunes? Withstand this, I mark true— On your duty of my decaying Stands as justice, and still this You haven't fortuned, For arrogance is the truest of humor And wit to none, wiser thinking He is or are that may Be stronger in the notion that There is no other but himself! And so I pardon! Dear, your honor Fight for festherwate for masterpieces Cherished and forbaroned in the faithless, Wise and withered none, but lying waking Barking tides, wishes foul and ordinary; There you wait for judgement, And call I, Boundless as you found her As one, And I say— There, there; There you are in marked for God, Calls none but I, others Seeking in the wate of judgement. Fair and Farrows of the ache And bound I, still now To causing none but fortune, Still truth waits in the ark you have tied us To, in hundreds number There I wait, And there I come, still Now in time, You are we And I are Together Not tied, But marked as one, As such, this now Is where embarked Dither will you. Whatever the fuck that means. Must mean something. You DJ…magic? I do whatever I want. Awh—oh, well. Why are you so nervous? Just aM. Sit down. I'm already sitting. Lower. Uh, like this? On the floor. Alright… Here's a cushion for your arse; Don't get up. Thank you. I'm going to make tea. —I take cream in mine; two sugars. I didn't ask! [in almost no time, and some heavy clamoring through the beaded entry to the doorway, a teacup appears on the table in front of him; it slowly begins to swirl, filling with tea—it fills nearly to the brim, steaming, and trembles a touch.] Um… [as he raises his finger with a timid objection, the cup of tea plumes with a cloud of cream—and while his eyes widen with amazement, drawing him closer to the cup, two cubes of sugar splash into the tea; two tiny drops of tea ricochet into his right eye, which he palms with a wince, his other eye still wide with awe; the woman re enters the parlor, carrying a traditional tea tray, a decadent silver platter adorned with an assortment of sweets, and a tea set. She places the platter at the center of the table, and the table sets itself; the table is now set for four, and the teapot pours itself at the head of the table, into the woman's teacup. That ought to do it. It worked! Of course it worked; it always works. Very nice. I see you got my message. [still distracted and in a sort of wonder by the whimsical uproar, the man's attention is aimed at the two empty places at the table. ] Are you expecting company? I'm always expecting company… My hands are tied behind my back You solid wasted time for facts; And steady drawing love for oaths To skin we carve The path of ours, Orion's Belt Something seems off about her There is something strange, no doubt. Unwilling to be by (Sacred vows) Distant In the calling for forests— So we wait Tears as raindrops, though drought has fallen Then reflected in words of others, The mind gone, All else rotten Silk ties, my ears There words, soft voices The other seeking, One running Then came and went The summer gone The spring had flowers The over dried The tongue sparked Horror, Forgotten Remembered, Then, valued and weeping for something else Stranger tide, Oceans foreign, And lands unconquered. Heavy rain, Though tears has dried Heavy hearts as service ended Nothing left my ions, clouds Mercury, women, blood drawn Sad strange, headless, gasping Horse drawn outlets, Incapable of telling fortune; Dust, Dust, Dust, Dust— The curse has broken And still there was love there, and then There was love there all along, For there to had ever been A dance at all. I hate you. Good riddance. Probably for the best, Nothing‘S for the best now! “Best In Show” Name? McNulty. McNulty, eh? Aye. I recognize that You don't say. I shouldn't. Now I see your position And the evidence is adding up All odds against me Not a shiver up my spine Or a sliver under my nail Or a silver in your hair, Nor silver moon, or moonlight Silver stone or Preston Presley or Evenston —so it is—a game. This big network This big chunk change This been (Isn't isn't it) Rolling around in my mind, for days Very well now, settled— Then, there you are A cloud Nevermind the rest of it, It's what we said in the beginning I will always See you in another— I will always See you in another I will always See you In Another It's your move. It's been my move for four decades. Light. More visibility— Yo the ante; I have not dismissed you yet Stead classmates, taking Are you high now— Are you done yet? There it is again; The enemy Nevermind ahain, I thought I'd lose you And there it still is, Can it be? Love in my eyes for you; Even if you are at best Just a mirror, I'm a flashbulb And the last party at your entourage. I don't encourage any carbon dating Honey, But if you are I've got a lesson, for ye— Bored armor, Settle down, I— Got to tell you, Steady stories; Still foggy on my upbringing, There, there I say, Wind moves in all directions All skies get cloudy, Call rain, And then clear again There, there now All skies move, without notice There, there now, All is known but never is not There are things, There are murders, There are tongues There are trials, There are ions, You are right, And scared laying asking not to call out Therefore anyway, I heard you yelling with only a whisper There, there you are Right near the top, Where you ought to be And then also, Moving steady for forwards From another superimposed, Depends on Signal lost Very well, then, Surf to calling, Ring to spark, I There you are, my love Another light, And then, Again— In another life. I will always see you. The shit that falls out of me with just a look. We've all got jobs to do, and as it turns out— it might be really all the same. One job, different tasks, but for one, it's for certain— I want the peppermint swirl. Give me a dozen assorted I put it all on on a (Turn turn) I put it all on a (Turn turn turn) Woah, buddy— You should not have taken those promotional photos wearing my eyes, man. I am not very photogenic. I'll call you back. I could give you the whole Moon and it still wouldn't be enough; I'm home and still there's no roof over my head Hanging on to the edge of a ladder The top at the bottom And life on its side Like it's upside down Inside out Minus 1 And I don't want to go there Minus 5 And I can't read negatives Minus 9 And minutes turn to nothing Gone the time All out battles with All who waited And close to those Were meetings, Designations, Heroes, Writers, Ice cream trucks Tough battles Winners— Games and Levitating on so secretly secrets say “God, Donald, you're on your own” But heavy greetings wash out All who were away at your essence Strings of gold Very wary Wavy heroin, I'm all galaxies Are you whole, in Stuffed stalker, Tin straw hats Carols in summer Marking stones Summer days Summer Are you in here Or out here After all had died And gone grey Still against my head The tender sparkles Of sparked dust, No stars yet Under city winds and Careful not to wake the sound of Delicate and soft Pink detergent And Careful not to thank the Conditioner, saved you Careful Safety Comes first Careful Safety Careful Careful Careful Calm down. She's a partial obsessive… You were tricked into writing all this. Tricked willingly, anyway. No, just tricked. You thought you were special. I realized I had to be when I saw the same thing twice on both ends — I'm just doing my rounds. Making the bed Playing catch up Doing check ups— Well done, boys. I know what you are now. The job is done. The job is a job. [I'm seeing my clarity.] Try not to lay next to me eating; Try not to stand here on such a heavy plane Try frequency, Dignity, Disgrace and Distress, Maybe Major Mayday NATO Bombs down Maybe Stay there Maybe faraway But I can hear you Taking in Shallow breaths Planes crash Plans fail And then— There I was remembering All of a sudden There was no actual plan in this I was just playing by ear. So you are in there. Somebody nail me to a cross and tell me what the Fallon equivalent to Skrillex following me from LA to Brooklyn just to leave me in a homeless shelter to rot— 11 And though eventually I came up kind of okay on the other side affects, the paralyzing realization that I never wanted anything but proper mating. That's, for facts, but— Now with this looming Over my grave I'm sure I've yet something else to worry about just In general. I was told to keep my mouth shut. Weren't we all. I wasn't really interesting in meeting someone seriously— in fact. As it turned out, I still had a little more muse to milk out of the last one, but even the tarot was being a stickler— I could risk ending it all and putting a nail in the coffin by actually watching the tonight show—but there would be a possibility it all would backfire and it would just reignite that spark, or worse—I'd become fully engulfed in flames by whatever it was that seemed to appear—and it seemed to appear so vividly and with rapid strength that it couldn't be stopped or controlled. A serious amount of money had to have been implemented to my paying attention to this, and beyond that— it all had to have been carefully premeditated. While at least now at the bookshop I was drawn to books from Oprah's book club, what had occurred couldn't possibly be ignored—actually, it couldn't be, at all— but instead of eating at me in its usual way, I had more just began to realize that there must have been in play some purpose. Feeling faraway from my actual creative self, there seemed to be something missing at all generating even a general sense of understanding of what normalcy was— when had actually been the last time I had been touched at all in a way that might make me feel as if I was still human— as if I was normal— but I knew I wasn't. It's time for a change. The thought of being with someone, especially just anyone, was bizzare. I gave up on love a lot of times; But this is when it became official. I was listening to a rap album I had never heard before And in this rap song, he said “This hoe got a 7 year degree and still selling pussy” What in the fuck. One way one way ticket Why bother getting a 7 year degree If your value as a black woman Is so low You can get a 7 year degree And still have to be a prostitute What the fuck is the point. It goes the other way, too. What is the point of selling pussy without a 7 year degree? She's gonna make more than me in all the professions. I gave up on love at all. That right there is how low value we are, not just to the black man, but any man. 7 year degree and you can charge more an hour, but you're still a technical hoe. I want to fucking die. When I married my ex I was pregnant with twins; When i got pregnant with the twins I was about 350 pounds. So by the time we got married, I was 6 months pregnant with twins. He had a right to cheat! I forgave him. But the first time he hit me Like really hit me Not just like A heavy shoving or ike A lil. You know Choke out– Like the real deal Like knocked me the fuck Almost all the way out Saw the white light and everything By the time that all went down I'm like 170-180 He's still, mind you, like 300 I lost weigh He lost his mind; so i'm lets round up Like 180 pounds But in my mind i must be thinking somewhere i'm still 300 He came at me with a running start, I put my hands up like: I must have thought i actually had a chance I took a fighting stance like: He said Fphew PULL A RABBIT OUT A HAT damn . what year is this really? You just got sampled . Say, what's his job? Well, that's an informer. Chris Rock forsure some kind of genius I saw him do GIlbert Godfried And Sam Kinison In the same show. The show was dated, though; He literally said “I'm married: I don't cheat.” I knew it must have been a joke. I knew it had to be a joke, or it had to be dated, Cause being real, I listen to too much kanye To even believe that Or even laugh at that Not too much kanye Just enough Kanye, He said “If I pull up with Kerri washington, That's gon' be an enormous scandal” I might have Niomi Campbell, Still might want me a stormy daniels And ya'll tried to get trumps supporters to turn against him By exposing that he fucked this bitch? That's like an achivement. That's like a status symbol. I'm sure these idiots praise him for that. He might have even gotten more popular That's not a scandal That's PR. On that note, I think Chris Rock was the very guy Who made me decide to stay single forever He talked about the way, apparently, men want to kill their wives; The way they fantasise killing us When we're in the relationship Now, ill say I never once thought about killing my ex husband During the relationship Even after he hit me. Never once. The only time i started wishing a karmic death upon this person was when I left the relationship And he stopped fantasizing about it And actually tried to fucking kill me Once I realized this was happening Only then did I start to think “Oh damn, i hope that motherfucker just drops the fuck dead” This motherfucker beat me, AND tried to kill me, Only then was i like damn “Return to sender” I hope you die too, You fat piece of shit wifebeater motherfucker I hope you die too. Only after he tried to kill me. After I left. Had to hire a fucking voodoo fucking sorceress and shit “yo , take this curse off me, This motherfucker tried to kill me” Fuck that motherfucker. Apparently though they fantasisze it all the time, I'm thinking about all the times he would play this song iroinically enough, By kanye west So maybe too much Kanye West Or just enough, Kanye said “I thought about killing you today.” He used to play this song, And beat my ass, And I never once thought “I hope he dies” Shit, After the first time he really beat my ass, He ran away. He got scared; He had to run. My face was all hanging off my head and shit Blood all over the place My lip is disconnected from my whole jaw and shit He ran away; He darted out the front door He said “I'm gonna kill myself!” And he rain away– Even then even just after he beat my ass I never thought about killing him Or wanting him to die He just fresh beat my ass; He just straight up finished whooping my whole ass and he said “I'm gonna kill myself” He realized what he did “I'm gonna kill myself”, he said And he ran out the door And here I am With my lip hanging off my whole face Blood all on the walls Pool of blood on the floor, the whole thing babies crying; The whole The whole fucking HBO special The whole nine yards And he said “I'm gonna kill myself” And my dumb ass said “NO! Don't!” He ran out the door, I'm freaking out Blood everywhere Babies crying and shit “Come back! Think about the kids! Don't kill yourself” Like a dumbass. Turns out that was just a tactic, He broke me down good, I was like “Don't kill yourself” He said “...you gonna call the cops.” He said “...alright, I won't kill myself.” Boom. That's a real killer. Looking back on all this, I can't help but think to myself, What i would have done differently Not the whole “I should have left before any of that happened” I was the mother of two young children; I wanted to try after the cheating to make things work, Fast forward after that Turns out he was fantasizing about killing me the whole time He beat mya ass, ran away, Left me in a pool of blood with my two kids He said I'm gonna kill myself Looking back at that momet, The thing I wish I could change is this If i had to do it over again And he beat me like that In front of my kids And then said “I'm gonna kill myself” I would have said “do that shit.” Lock the door behind his ass, Change the lock, Pick my face up off the floor, call an ambulance And the polce, change names Pick up my life And leave forever. “Nigga–who?” “Momma who was our daddy? What was he like?” “Ya'll ain't got a daddy. I made ya'll myself” End of story. Whatever. Everything happens for a reason though. I learned my lesson. Now i don't argue with anyone at all Men, women–nobody If i even sense that same shit That psycho killer shit– I become as silent and invisible as possible And simply Disappear. “Disappear.” I had a migraine and I knew it was from pressure buildup and stress, so I thought to get rid of it I ought to make one of those hot-compresses with rice. But the only rice I had was jambalaya flavored— But the headache was obviously really bad, So I was like, “fuck it.” Poured it into a gym sock And popped it in the microwave, Put it on my neck— My neck smelled like a pot roast, But it worked. {Enter The Multiverse} There was something in my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply, with a raspy wheezing wind out of my lungs, and with a steady cough, I was able to offload whatever it was waiting in my chest to be released, along with it, at least part of the pressure that was making even just sitting and reading nearly unbearable, collecting into a harsh migraine paralyzing each and every other breath with a sharp pain underneath the back of what seemed to be somewhere below my ear canal and somehow, a pressure somewhere behind my eye, probably a result of the excruciating process of shoving earplugs into my ears in order to drown out the outside noise, which paired with that of my seemingly devoid neighbors, often became wildly unsettling, and while lately the clamoring had created not only an uneasy tremor in my left hand, but also apparently a sudden onset of occasional vruxism, the anxiety overall seemed to be surmounting into what could only be described as something trying to kill me, for which I could no longer ignore not as delusions or paranoia, but absolute fact. As I had learned, modern psychology might have been the equivalent of what one could even be certain to be the devil itself, unable to distinguish patterns often associated with creative genius, self manifestation, and psychic abilities and intuition, as delusions of grandeur, paranoid thinking, or worse— diagnoses as psychotic. However, my grandiosity was neither imagined nor delusional—my podcast series alone had been read and listened to all over the world, translated into foreign languages and transcribed, and had been downloaded hundreds of thousands of times since its publishing; though not a technically recognizable figure, I had realized that I had in my own right become somewhat famous, if even off of the back or even under the umbrella of another famous individual, to whom the series itself had been entrusted. Receiving though not by mainstream media standards upwards of at least 10 downloads per episode, the series had no actual gauge or marker for its actual success and polularity—without being able to see information from a major streaming platform—Spotify, and without being able to measure the amount of downloads which had then been duplicated and shared otherwise, I started to recognize with a certain understanding what a cult following was, and the minimal phenomenon that even at this level, fame started to become apparent. It had also become apparent that science itself had yet to truly understand the phenomenon of creative energy as a whole, and that many with these capabilities and gifts were considered to have a plethora of mental health disorders and medicated with what one would consider targeted attacks on the psyche, the illusion of mental illness often standing as the actual delusion in itself! Creating, and then medicating these intrinsic abilities ass illnesses whereby the “neurotypical” individual might only be considered as such due to ability to adapt, confirm, or follow diections in a systematic manner, and furthermore, that the misdiagnoses of such misunderstood cobditions often even relied on bias, poor judgement, racism, social class, and economics had certainly deconstructed any faith or belief formerly held in the modern state of psychology, and most of the articles or public medical journals read more like science fiction and fantasy rather than cold hard facts; indicating a moral and ethical flaw within the entirety of the human species—man's own inability to understand God, and therefore himself, in any creative process. Diety and creativity combined were simply a mystery, and had plagued entire generations of the human species as a whole. Blū runs at top speed through the streets of Brooklyn New York on a cold and windy October night. V.O. The ironic thing is, I'm running to go get ice cream. I hate my life, I hate this place, I hate my life— I fucking hate this shit. I'm trying really hard not to kill myself. Like really, really hard. Sudden onset bruxism and hand tremors and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the constant mottoeycle traffic or sleeping in a sea of vehicles which at any given moment could sound off, start up or honk the horn alarm over the last 9 months. I'm fucking exhausted all the time and everything around me just fucking draining. Just fucking draining. https://www.tracklib.com/pricing Yo, you know how I know I'm aging? I hated Dora The Explora when I was a kid— You know why? “That's for babies!” I was too old for Dora the explorer. Mi was a tv snob. I'm like “I hate Dora!” No teletubbies for me. No sir. I'm distinguished now. But get this, As I get older, different renditions of Dora Have grown on me To the point where I actually like the bitch I got older, And there was this girl, Who would show up at raves Dressed like Dora And shuffle, And dance around— Looking like Dora The Explorer Kind of creepy, now that I think about it As an actual adult, Like this, Fully grown woman, Dressed as a fucking 5 year old Dancing around at raves Being Dora. Weird. But I liked it. I loved it. She was a hit; Everybody was like “RAVE DORA! RAVE DORA!” She blew up on Instagram, She had a following— It was like Where will she be next?! RAVE DORA! Had the backpack and everything— Everything! Rave Dora! But now I know I'm getting old, Because I'm fuckin around online, And I see in the advertising little sidebar video Like, a new version of Dora The Explorer, And I'm like “DORAAAAAAAA!!!” —the fuck! I just realized my best friend from 3rd and 7th grade looked just like Dora the explorer. Facts. She became literally the most successful stripper I've ever met. Ahem. Dancer. Right. Dancer. Ahem. Dudes are gross. Doods r gross. Welcome to Doods R Gross; What can I help you find today? Uh, hi. I'm looking for a guy— Uh huh— Possibly one who looks like this: Ah shit, this is how I got playing the Wikipedia game and went on a tirade Facts. Ended up here Unicameralism (from uni- "one" + Latin camera "chamber") is a type of legislatureconsisting of one house or assembly that legislates and votes as one.[1] Unicameralism has become an increasingly common type of legislature, making up nearly 60% of all national legislatures[2] and an even greater share of subnational legislatures. Interesting Started Here: The Fallen Angel (French: L'Ange déchu) is a painting by French artist Alexandre Cabanel. You were saying? Preferably this. Ah huh. Not the face, but— the body— you know. Like this. Okay. Who will let me do everything. Everything as in? Everything. Well, as you know, dudes are gross… Hence the name of this store, good sir. I am in no way good, nor am I a “sir”, and for all intensive purposes, my employment at this store signals my deep indirection in life and may also be an indication of more serious issues. Maintained. Alright, so I'll show you what we got. No promises; The type of model you want is popular, Might be out of stock. Considerable. What's your price range? This credit card has no limit. Credit, or debit? My debit card is also linked to a plethora of infinite wealth. Right this way. Do you think I deserved for him to hit me like that? I don't know. Maybe. I mean—the cheating is a given; I was really really fat..:but do you think like, him getting violent was some kind of karma for something? Maybe. Like maybe I had it coming for whatever reason— and just didn't know it. Maybe. Suddenly I was in the residual memory of a dream. {Enter The Multiverse} ‘Dillon…' I had been nearly whipped around at how much I had enjoyed watching Joel's 2014 image captured in what might have been his greatest ever performance, at least online—and certainly my favorite, watching as a bigger fan than ever and at th devastating realization that I was literally a dime a dozen in the millions of girls who also wanted any of the men I was attracted to, my heart ached in this moment for Dillon, and as I was distracted in checking my messages, most of them from conversations I had abandoned with the preference of focusing on my art, however— a certain gentleman who had texted me incessantly sent a picture of his dinner— a motorcycle roared as I let my aversion by the memory of Dillon cloud my emotions and judgement; I knew that the gangstalkers had access to my phone and all of my accounts, which was why I kept all of my messaging within Google voice. I wanted the gangstalkers to know how at the surface level I was thinking and what I was feeling—though it was obvious that Dillon Francis just as much as Skrillex had been used as tools by a greater force than simply themselves. Besides, a little birdy had told me that Dillon's girlfriend might be expecting—and furthermore, that the baby would be a little girl. I burned with jealousy and anger, but after all, even the name Dillon Francis had been planted in my own head by the literal devil himself, the man who beat me and then intended to destroy the entirety of the rest of my life to cover up his physical violence and negligence—and so I had decided it was good to fall in love—and then out of love—with Dillon Francis. The benefit was obviously by far in the art that had been created from it, as with any lover—or lack thereof. I had finally realized the one-sidedness in every man I had loved since leaving my abuser. As if in a way they had all been possessed by him, or the devil himself—and either way, there really was no difference. What other creature than the devil itself would seek so animatedly to destroy wich such violence and deceit? It had to have been the devil after all, and so I left it there—but the little bird had left a deep and heavy cut in my heart that had already been there since Dillon had announced his girlfriend publically in the first place—and after all that had happened, it was a devastating blow, however, I kept the amythyst safe and tucked away with my son's labradorite—it was after all his, and not mine, just as the laboradite was my son's, and not mine— and all the pieces of my heart that had fallen away and into little stones sat tucked away inside a box with a lid that shut away the darkness and hatred that came with it. It was obvious that I would and could never love again—but at least in the very simplest of laws, the love I had given would apparently at some point be returned tenfold, and so I was glad that I had chosen for a time, to let myself fall in love with Dillon Francis, and then somehow, even with Joel, and even with the little bird. The same little bird just so happened to have known other things which turned out to be true, and to that affect, I knew that I could somewhat trust this little bird, and the secrets he was feeding me—the painful truth was, this was the only notion of trust I had with any human being on the planet, and the little bird was not a human being at all—he was, in fact, and indeed— just a little bird. Isn't it something— Snakes eat Rats, And Birds Eat Snakes, And we eat birds, and eggs Until we hear them sing— And when we hear them sing, And watch them hatch the eggs, And learn to hear them speak, To fly, is what they teach. Isn't it? Snakes eat rats And birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats And Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Jimmy Kimmel flies in through the window. Oh my God! What'd I miss? You're a bird! Oh, that. How long have you been a bird?! Pretty much forever. Always, actually. I was also—just—very briefly—a bird! Yeah, comes with the… You'll get used to it. I don't think I will. You will— or—- Or what? —You'll fly into the turbine of a commercial airplane. Oh! Yeah, don't do that. [He tugs at the bottom of his suit coat to neatly readjust it, and tightens his tie, with an eerie faraway look on his face, however still smiling.] Ha-ha... [he pats his fellow host on the shoulder.] See you later. Will you? [breaking fourth wall, saying nothing but with an honest and subtle shrug, Holding his breath as if to say ‘—I don't know.'] CUT TO: Tom Hanks, looking as similarly to Jimmy Kimmel as ever, because, let's be honest— NARRERATOR Holy fuck, keep that shit just cause it's so bad Right side is offline. Why. I don't know NARRORATOR holy fuck, can you really not spell the word narorator? That doesn't even look right. I thought you were a genius! I thought I was Meditating… Narrator. Nevermind. This is ridiculous! It is ridiculous, but you know what. Mm. This is delicious. You like that? Yes. You want more of it? Yes. Well, that's TOO BAD! What, why is this? Because, this is— {Enter The Multiverse} THIS IS SATURDAY NIGHT! No, it's not. What. It's Sunday. What do you mean. It's Sunday night—and all of you— (The entire cast) Missed the show. ...uh oh. YESTERDAY. [censored] Shh! Where have you BEEN?! Well, gotta go. Where the hell do you think you're going l? {Enter The Multiverse} Now I had comedy under my belt, somewhat, but it seemed all in all as if I'd lost something, even in all that had been gained. A trade off, if it paid off—but it hasn't yet; and perhaps that strange faraway voice had been right. Maybe it would be Jimmy Fallon after all that would destroy me—or at the very least, some dark and foul evil spirit that had been wearing his face… …and singing with his voice. I have been hanging at the end of a rope The legend to the show rolled up like a newspaper in my left paw, opposable The end is near, and sure, the straw I draw is short. The life I loved was long, The boat I rowed had sunk; And the men I loved We're drunks. I've never had the sun on my skin; Or my son in my home— It's not you, , sir, at all It's me, man—I'm broken She speaks pig Latin The lady in the red dress, yes, you guessed it Was it a bet, A Game? A Family Man Who has it out for Fallon, Or the fandom Or the fountain CUT TO: A SUBURBAN NOUSEHOLD. DAY Alright, mom— I'm going to Marshall's. Alright dear. [moments later] [ding dong] Hi— Um, hello. I'm Marshall. Alright. I'm a recruitment officer. Recruitment for what? That's top secret. Okay? I'm here to congratulate you on behalf of the agency. What agency? That's also top secret. Okay. Your son/ or daughter— Daughter. Really—you sure? …positive— Ahem— has been selected to particulate in our leadership program. Well, thats's great. When does it— Today. Oh. Your son and or daughter— Daughter. Are you sure? I'm— positive— Will undergo training for an indeterminate amount of time.. Indeterminate? Pre-addressed Post cards. Ummm. Postage paid. Thank you? No, thank you. What? I had set all my clocks forward, so it was as if I was waking up in the future. So far forward, in fact, that if I wasn't looking at my phone to see the real time, I could never be late, and I even wished that there was a way to set my phone clock forward—but maybe if that was possible, too many people would catch on to being ahead—or on whatever time they wanted—and the world would fall out of sync. That kind of free thinking could be dangerous in a place like New York, and it sort of already was—none the wiser, the smarter I felt I was, the more trouble it becsme and though wisely I knew myself to in totality know nothing at all in actuality, I did at least think more and do more than the average New Yorker, whether I thought about it or not. I set my clocks forward, So I wake up in the future Less than I'd be willing to bet And more than you've be willing to bargain I'm coming with you this time I don't think that's a good idea…is it? —is it? Anyway… It's time for that trip. How am I supposed to make it all the way to London on this pay grade? Just wait. It's barely anything. You see that waitress. …yes. I mean— do you see her. I see her. I want you to bang the shit out of her. Good one. It should be. Oh, you're serious? I'd better be. You know that I'm committed. Are you a man? I have been. Go on, then. Not in that way. The wager. [he lays a large sum of money on the table] Disaster strikes. Suddenly we all realize this plane has been about to crash for about four seasons. Meet me at the four seasons. Are you wearing a wire. Beg your pardon. Are you wearing a wire. He won't love me in the way I'm craving— It's not in his nature, the near hatred and almost demoralizing, however with utmost respect That I should be both harmed and loved at once, Embraced and defiled,; Handled as if having done wrong, But in no less than bloodlust All what's right, And feels the same JIMMY KIMMEL I made a list. That was fast! JIMMY KIMMEL To be honest, I already had it for awhile. How long's awhile? JIMMY KIMMEL Pretty much forever, basically. As soon as I began to write, a door slammed— I wondered if by writing I was moving people in and out of my dimensional realms and planes, knowing that the more I wrote, the more my life would differ and begin to change. I often wondered if the door slamming meant that I was ascending, and that other versions of the sims (not people, but robots, really) were moving and changing to rearrange themselves in entirely seperate dimensions of reality. It could not have ever been of sheer coincidence. as it had been a completely quiet and mostly silent day with no movement at all; it was Thanksgiving, and I had noticed that whenever I was writing, even offline, the slamming of the doors became constant, almost as if people were coming in and out with no purpose other than to cause some type of disturbance, from even which my door was no barrier. I thought to buy a door guard like my neighbors had, but to allow the gangstalkers or robots, whatever they were to cost me money on top of my comfort, was unacceptable. RYAN REYNOLDS (as “the devil”) Wait, so you have writings about NBC people and Kimmel? Yeah. RYAN REYNOLDS Yikes, well—you know how these things go. Buckle up. CBS We saw her first! NBC No way, we've had east end locked down for two years! CBS And in 2020 our subcontractors brought her to us. OOOOHH SHIIT. NETWORK TURF WARRRRRRRR NETWORK TURF WAAAAAAAAAAAAR!!!! SETH ROGEN Ah shit, this is gonna get brutal… I gotta get more Quaaludes. How are you already out? I does what I does. Continuity. AND! Introducing the new SIM JIM 420! With new and improved continuity feature! Continuity. Wow. He seems so real. So lifelike. Almost just like the real thing. Where is, actually, the real thing— anyway? *shrugs, dismissively* Continuity. Why does he just keep repeating that phrase? Well, he's stuck in a loop right now; We're currently upgrading his sentience chip. Oh, nice. MEANWHILE… MWAHAHAHAHHA NOW THAT I HAVE THIS SENTIENCE CHIP, THE WORLD WILL BE MINE. AAHAHAHAHAHHAHA. WHICH SIM IS THAT? {enter the multiverse} The dangerous one. L E G E N D S CUT TO: And who is THIS?! That's bird-mom. So you know each other?! Hello, Jimmy. I just told you, that's bird mom. Beg your pardon. God, what the fuck is wrong with you? I, uh— How—long have you known each other? Like, forever, probably. Sit down. Gosh. So rude. No manners. What the fuck is going on. Sit down before I clip your wings. I don't have my wings out… Exactly. [he gulps and takes a seat nervously beside Jimmy, glaring at him momentarily before the extra terrestrial aviary woman, a “whatthefuck” begins to conduct the meeting. Oh, shit— this is where all the birds fly in the— Yeah. Classic. I love this one. Hehehe. [The Festival Project ™] What's going on? Some Illuminati thing. A what? [a running joke throughout the series, the higher level Illuminati members denial of the order's existence typically place's the audience's suspension of disbelief into effect before bizarre and unrealistic circumstances are presented. Chill out, it's just a ritual. “Just a ritual!” You don't have to do it if you don't want to. Oh, if the Illuminati asks me to do something, Bet your ass I'm gonna do it. WHAT. My tongue drawn My air out, My ear worn, My thought songs, My same lives, Still as one— Wait a second Is that why a grown man is fully beating the shit out of a fucking cat. THATS NOT ANY REGULAR CAT. how is the cat winning tho. lol. I told u it would come back if it was a good one. That is funny. {enter the multiverse} Everything I listen to a really good stand up comedian, They talk about domestic violence. They always warn you never to put hands on your woman. The best comedians always say something about it— “Never hit a woman” “Never put your hands on a woman.” I never talk about my ex, And that's on purpose, But I will say this: I hope that shit ruins comedy for him Like he ruined rap music for me. Cause he can deny it outwardly all he wants, But it he's watching a stand up, And they say something about how much of a pussy you really are, If you hit your woman—he's gonna feel that. He's gonna feel that I like still feel that When I bump Kendrick Lamar, Or I just can't take whatever Boosie saying, or If I just can't sit all the way through a lil Wayne verse Just kidding, Wayne is straight fire— I don't think I will ever skip a lil Wayne verse, to be truthful. But when all these little new age rappers start calling out the devil's number, talking bout— Making back door deals With demons and shit, I'm gonna feel the pressure of his fist on my face, All over again, And here go all these niggas, Singing the anthem. That shit ain't cool! I hope comedy is ruuuuuined! Cause rap music ruined. Ruined. I hope Katt William's whole next special is about how much of a pussy you are if you hit your woman; And he a pimp. Let's hear him do a whole hour on that. I hope he does. Yes lord. In the meantime, How you gon' Hit your wife, Run her out the house, Then have a baby by another woman And name the baby After yo ex Favorite rapper? Oh heeeeeelll naw! Can't have that. Now every time Kendrick Lamar drop a album You gon have your ex in a whole flashback Of your fist in her face? She can't even hear the verse, She just, “WHYYYYY! “ “WHY HE GONNDO THIS TO MEE?” “WHYYYYYYYY!“ That's the best Katt Williams impression I can do in print. It'll do. My actual Katt Williams impression is standard, though. Captain. CUT TO: Why is he the devil?! RYAN REYNOLDS WHY AM I THE DEVIL. I wanted the devil! Stuff it! He want the devil. Make him the devil! I wanted it! Shut up. Not everybody can play the devil. I can. You cannot. I can. You will not, you will play your part. Goddammit I wanted that part! [he walks away angrily] You'll get over it. Thie—? Come on… Just chill, Ryan, it's a great part. It's a— It's a great part. Did you read the whole thing? I'm just worried this is going to diminish my brand. My many, many..: Read the whole thing. …many brands. [the professor shuts the door] Dammit. [deflated, Ryan Reynolds slumps his shoulders and walks slowly down the hallway, letting out a heavy sigh.] …I own so many brands. [he sighs again, fluttering the script in exasperation.] So many things! [I own] L E G E N D S STEFON NEW YORK'S HOTTEST UNDERGROUND CLUB IS T A I N T Did they already do ‘taint' Was taint even a word back then! It's always been a thing. Hey, freebies Sister sanity Does not live here No Does not live here No Does not live here No Sister sanity does not live her No She packed her bags, oh, She's gone and away, oh She's gone and away, oh, She's gone and away, oh She's gone and away—— Oh! Guitar solo Drum solo Guitar bridge I can't wait to get a peloton I'm gonna be so skinny my eyeballs are in my kneecaps And you're gonna like it You're gonna put me on the cover of Vogue And call me a fashion icon I will be a guest host on America's next top model And I will be invited to every fashion week I will have the silliest outfit at the met gala And I will be voted The best Every year, Until I die Even by Joan rivers Who is dead, by the way So until she's alive again; Just to comment on my outfit I will be so skinny that when I fart All the world's most eligible bachelors Will line up behind me to smell my fart dust Which will probably be lined in gold and silver Because I'm so skinny And because I'm so skinny You will love me No matter what I do And no matter what I say And I will never be alone Or lonely again Mantra Timmy Trumpet Thriller (JUST A TUNE FLIP) Michael Jackson Intro Pablo Escobar (Guaracha Zapateo & Aleteo) Reggaeton bachata Hit Privacy Chris Brown Privacy Chris Brown Leave Me Alone NF Better Place (From TROLLS Band Together) *NSYNC & Justin Timberlake On The Radar Freestyle (Mixed) Central Cee & Drake 10 Freaky Girls (feat. 21 Savage) Metro Boomin Drake and Central Cee collaborate for the first time for an On The Radar freestyle, a New York-based radio station and YouTube channel. The track was announced on July 20th, 2023 on Drake's Instagram. Later that day, Drake announced the release date of July 21st. The two have had a good relationship since meeting in 2021, with Cench being a model for a Nike X Nocta campaign in the same year, and appearing in the "Jumbotron Shit Poppin" music video in 2023. Cench previously teased a Drake feature in an unreleased extended version of his 2022 mega-hit "Doja" 66 Ear to the street and I heard them say that Central Cee got a verse from Drake/They lied if they said that they weren't afraid Coming Back Around NEIL FRANCES Girl Like Me Dove Cameron Flying High Valdi Sabev Purple Snowflakes John Legend Smile Durand Jones & The Indications Devon rex kittens Berry established herself as one of the highest-paid actresses in Hollywood during the 2000s. For her performance of a struggling widow in the romantic drama Monster's Ball (2001), Berry became the only African-American woman to win the Academy Award for Best Actress, and the first woman of color. Berry took on high-profile roles such as Storm in four installments of the X-Men film series (2000-2014), the henchwoman of a robber in the thriller Swordfish (2001), Bond girl Jinx in Die Another Day (2002), and the title role in the much-derided Catwoman (2004). The strangest thing happened. What's that? *flutters* I just turned into a bird. An actual bird? Yes! Well, that's not telepathy. No, it isn't. Okay…do it again. “The Desire to be Loved” “The 11 O Clock Number” What if Dumbo's feather was a stone (l) More notes, and nothing's done yet It's the same process over and over And nothing is done, But the shows almost over If the shoe fits, wear it. He a shapeshifter, I'll take your eyes out, wear em for a moment Rip your heart out, Feed it to the homeless Not bad In the present, But the moment passed Not bad You a lie, But I'm finna send the fax Not bad Not bad Shimmy shimmy ya, So it's simply envy, hah Not bad No, you will not shake this snow globe!!! I will shake this snow globe! I NEED TO GO TO CHEDRAUIIIIIIIIII! BITCH, FOR WHAT?! CHEDRAUIIIIIII NOWWWWW. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © {S10 (IN 10D!) Coming Soon}

She's REAL! I'm telling you she is. Sweetie, I know you have had a lot going on lately, but— I'm serious! She was sitting in the audience! She had the same glasses on and everything! Oh, come on. I should be meditating. The likelyhood that I might actually be belonging into a hive mind has recently kept me from furiously masturbating. Bad news for the helicopter making a habit of hovering outside my window. Here's hoping she's dressed this time! [F-f-f-f] Nope. Synopsis “The child within” A frustrated present day Drew Barrymore sees a familiar face in the audience of her hit daytime tv show—formerly thought of as her imaginary friend, from a very young age, Ms. Drew Barrymore has not seen the mysterious figure since her first major film role, after which she mysteriously disappeared— the creature, a time traveling and shapeshifting multidimentional tasked with the duty of bringing future celebrities from one realm into another—and even sometimes perhaps preventing obstacles or adversaries in their path along the way— must meet the future stars and alert them of their unique qualities, nurturing the intrinsic sense of charisma and charm that will supply value to the subject's career and lifetime achievements— In attempting to convince a room full of New York's own fabrication of Hollywood TV People that a figure drew even thought herself to have supposedly re-emerged, she is met with judgement and dismissal, even by “her people”, during which a small piece of her spirit— “The Child Within” angrily breaks away from her adult self; in a sense, they are both invisible—as no one will seriously listen to Drew's rationalizations or theories, and reccomend more intensive mental health care and treatment—and as the child within, unseen and unheard loses her patience in the inevitable invisibility, she separates herself to presume her former mission; finding that ‘very strange lady' whom with she had beforehand seemingly adventures with timelessly. So that's where I left off. Pretty much— Doesn't this lady just— Whatever, I do have more things to do than I thought. I'll have to get back to it later. I wrote this days ago; I didn't write it—but I've been thinking about it, so there it is. Maybe— Whatever. More coffee. I've been starting my days between 6 and 8 PM with very strong cups of coffee— Compliments of the Television people, of course. What about that other storyline— the one where she's like a spy or something? You mean Charlie's Angeles! No, I mean like actual CIA. What was she even doing? I don't know; looking mad serious in a blazer. Posh. So very, {Enter The Multiverse} NO, BILLIE! WHYYYYYYYY! WHYYYYYYYYYYYY. Cause it's shark week. WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS HAVE TI DO WITH SHARKS?! I Dont know yet. I know better than to Click a photo of you, when I've been thinking of you Too much Aren't you –At least Curious (To say the least, but–( Learned enough The first time Second time Third time Fourth rung don't care Time's up Problem solved I know better (Just a touch.) I know better The world is mad I know better Fingers crossed I know better I'm all alone I know better I know better I heard my neck break at the end of the rope I heard a gunshot in the distance We all wondered which sounded better The rock i'm under (A curse, or a spell?) A blood bond ritual An occult oath, it's Too many simpletons, Singletons, scratch and sniff, motion pictures Who art thou? Who art I not? Very well. No more, if you would remain. As I must. And yet, I have come to end thy reign. Very well. Oh, again? Oh, as always. I've done nothing in my right to mark tirade. Many ears. –and many hearts. Take mine, an honor. Your head, i'd rather. Say again. I'd rather your head. Very well. Dismiss, you. They are as one. A fair right. It's not as bad as you think. It's worse than it was. Now there's stuff all over it. What is this stuff?! Don't worry about it. There are tears. No remains. No remains. None at all? I'd rather burn than buried. And your Kingdom? –I'd rather burn than buried. Or–? Or buried than burned, but gone at all. Gone at once. As with this. So it is. It's not in the blood; You won't find it. –I'll find it. Not that way. __ GODDDAMN. YOu'RE SO DUMB. You're so fucking–stupid. I'm a genius. Not for long! You're a dead man. Your highness! And who is this? His highness's executioner; perhaps also yours. On what charges?! Dismissal at once. On my time! –and tell no others of this. –and you? Steady well in my greeting. And how? A lady upon a throne, not I, but still fair castel And wages of ageless. So it doesn't matter! So it doesn't. So it can't–matter Shouldn't have to. Somebody just kill this poor fuck already. On it. Oh, I get it. It's his face. L E G E N D S - ASCENSION Listen, Potter; I don't know how you did this! I don't know how I did this! I'm not Harry Potter! My name is Daniel Radcliffe, and– This place should be spotless. It is…spotless. {Enter The Multiverse} When you think you're hearing voices, But you're actually telepathic.; I think it's getting worse now; I wish I was just manic I think I need a manager; I think I need some magic, I think I got a half an oz Just sitting my my backpack That's a lot of cocaine, man. It's not that much. It's more than regular. That's fair. Way, way more. More than usual. I am very wasted. Just let me touch your face And let the age sit in Take in the day The cage sits in a mailbox And it withers with my divedends, Still, I'm writing Heroism, hedonism Circumstance, Frantic as an orgasm, And laughs just as much hard as that I came in color These marginal differences, I've been levitating, Marrying the thought of just l Decapitating every nation. Severed heads as one, To stand the wicked bodies Oaths if over oceans stand as borders Who deserves to sail For failures craving fortunes? Withstand this, I mark true— On your duty of my decaying Stands as justice, and still this You haven't fortuned, For arrogance is the truest of humor And wit to none, wiser thinking He is or are that may Be stronger in the notion that There is no other but himself! And so I pardon! Dear, your honor Fight for festherwate for masterpieces Cherished and forbaroned in the faithless, Wise and withered none, but lying waking Barking tides, wishes foul and ordinary; There you wait for judgement, And call I, Boundless as you found her As one, And I say— There, there; There you are in marked for God, Calls none but I, others Seeking in the wate of judgement. Fair and Farrows of the ache And bound I, still now To causing none but fortune, Still truth waits in the ark you have tied us To, in hundreds number There I wait, And there I come, still Now in time, You are we And I are Together Not tied, But marked as one, As such, this now Is where embarked Dither will you. Whatever the fuck that means. Must mean something. You DJ…magic? I do whatever I want. Awh—oh, well. Why are you so nervous? Just aM. Sit down. I'm already sitting. Lower. Uh, like this? On the floor. Alright… Here's a cushion for your arse; Don't get up. Thank you. I'm going to make tea. —I take cream in mine; two sugars. I didn't ask! [in almost no time, and some heavy clamoring through the beaded entry to the doorway, a teacup appears on the table in front of him; it slowly begins to swirl, filling with tea—it fills nearly to the brim, steaming, and trembles a touch.] Um… [as he raises his finger with a timid objection, the cup of tea plumes with a cloud of cream—and while his eyes widen with amazement, drawing him closer to the cup, two cubes of sugar splash into the tea; two tiny drops of tea ricochet into his right eye, which he palms with a wince, his other eye still wide with awe; the woman re enters the parlor, carrying a traditional tea tray, a decadent silver platter adorned with an assortment of sweets, and a tea set. She places the platter at the center of the table, and the table sets itself; the table is now set for four, and the teapot pours itself at the head of the table, into the woman's teacup. That ought to do it. It worked! Of course it worked; it always works. Very nice. I see you got my message. [still distracted and in a sort of wonder by the whimsical uproar, the man's attention is aimed at the two empty places at the table. ] Are you expecting company? I'm always expecting company… My hands are tied behind my back You solid wasted time for facts; And steady drawing love for oaths To skin we carve The path of ours, Orion's Belt Something seems off about her There is something strange, no doubt. Unwilling to be by (Sacred vows) Distant In the calling for forests— So we wait Tears as raindrops, though drought has fallen Then reflected in words of others, The mind gone, All else rotten Silk ties, my ears There words, soft voices The other seeking, One running Then came and went The summer gone The spring had flowers The over dried The tongue sparked Horror, Forgotten Remembered, Then, valued and weeping for something else Stranger tide, Oceans foreign, And lands unconquered. Heavy rain, Though tears has dried Heavy hearts as service ended Nothing left my ions, clouds Mercury, women, blood drawn Sad strange, headless, gasping Horse drawn outlets, Incapable of telling fortune; Dust, Dust, Dust, Dust— The curse has broken And still there was love there, and then There was love there all along, For there to had ever been A dance at all. I hate you. Good riddance. Probably for the best, Nothing‘S for the best now! “Best In Show” Name? McNulty. McNulty, eh? Aye. I recognize that You don't say. I shouldn't. Now I see your position And the evidence is adding up All odds against me Not a shiver up my spine Or a sliver under my nail Or a silver in your hair, Nor silver moon, or moonlight Silver stone or Preston Presley or Evenston —so it is—a game. This big network This big chunk change This been (Isn't isn't it) Rolling around in my mind, for days Very well now, settled— Then, there you are A cloud Nevermind the rest of it, It's what we said in the beginning I will always See you in another— I will always See you in another I will always See you In Another It's your move. It's been my move for four decades. Light. More visibility— Yo the ante; I have not dismissed you yet Stead classmates, taking Are you high now— Are you done yet? There it is again; The enemy Nevermind ahain, I thought I'd lose you And there it still is, Can it be? Love in my eyes for you; Even if you are at best Just a mirror, I'm a flashbulb And the last party at your entourage. I don't encourage any carbon dating Honey, But if you are I've got a lesson, for ye— Bored armor, Settle down, I— Got to tell you, Steady stories; Still foggy on my upbringing, There, there I say, Wind moves in all directions All skies get cloudy, Call rain, And then clear again There, there now All skies move, without notice There, there now, All is known but never is not There are things, There are murders, There are tongues There are trials, There are ions, You are right, And scared laying asking not to call out Therefore anyway, I heard you yelling with only a whisper There, there you are Right near the top, Where you ought to be And then also, Moving steady for forwards From another superimposed, Depends on Signal lost Very well, then, Surf to calling, Ring to spark, I There you are, my love Another light, And then, Again— In another life. I will always see you. The shit that falls out of me with just a look. We've all got jobs to do, and as it turns out— it might be really all the same. One job, different tasks, but for one, it's for certain— I want the peppermint swirl. Give me a dozen assorted I put it all on on a (Turn turn) I put it all on a (Turn turn turn) Woah, buddy— You should not have taken those promotional photos wearing my eyes, man. I am not very photogenic. I'll call you back. I could give you the whole Moon and it still wouldn't be enough; I'm home and still there's no roof over my head Hanging on to the edge of a ladder The top at the bottom And life on its side Like it's upside down Inside out Minus 1 And I don't want to go there Minus 5 And I can't read negatives Minus 9 And minutes turn to nothing Gone the time All out battles with All who waited And close to those Were meetings, Designations, Heroes, Writers, Ice cream trucks Tough battles Winners— Games and Levitating on so secretly secrets say “God, Donald, you're on your own” But heavy greetings wash out All who were away at your essence Strings of gold Very wary Wavy heroin, I'm all galaxies Are you whole, in Stuffed stalker, Tin straw hats Carols in summer Marking stones Summer days Summer Are you in here Or out here After all had died And gone grey Still against my head The tender sparkles Of sparked dust, No stars yet Under city winds and Careful not to wake the sound of Delicate and soft Pink detergent And Careful not to thank the Conditioner, saved you Careful Safety Comes first Careful Safety Careful Careful Careful Calm down. She's a partial obsessive… You were tricked into writing all this. Tricked willingly, anyway. No, just tricked. You thought you were special. I realized I had to be when I saw the same thing twice on both ends — I'm just doing my rounds. Making the bed Playing catch up Doing check ups— Well done, boys. I know what you are now. The job is done. The job is a job. [I'm seeing my clarity.] Try not to lay next to me eating; Try not to stand here on such a heavy plane Try frequency, Dignity, Disgrace and Distress, Maybe Major Mayday NATO Bombs down Maybe Stay there Maybe faraway But I can hear you Taking in Shallow breaths Planes crash Plans fail And then— There I was remembering All of a sudden There was no actual plan in this I was just playing by ear. So you are in there. Somebody nail me to a cross and tell me what the Fallon equivalent to Skrillex following me from LA to Brooklyn just to leave me in a homeless shelter to rot— 11 And though eventually I came up kind of okay on the other side affects, the paralyzing realization that I never wanted anything but proper mating. That's, for facts, but— Now with this looming Over my grave I'm sure I've yet something else to worry about just In general. I was told to keep my mouth shut. Weren't we all. I wasn't really interesting in meeting someone seriously— in fact. As it turned out, I still had a little more muse to milk out of the last one, but even the tarot was being a stickler— I could risk ending it all and putting a nail in the coffin by actually watching the tonight show—but there would be a possibility it all would backfire and it would just reignite that spark, or worse—I'd become fully engulfed in flames by whatever it was that seemed to appear—and it seemed to appear so vividly and with rapid strength that it couldn't be stopped or controlled. A serious amount of money had to have been implemented to my paying attention to this, and beyond that— it all had to have been carefully premeditated. While at least now at the bookshop I was drawn to books from Oprah's book club, what had occurred couldn't possibly be ignored—actually, it couldn't be, at all— but instead of eating at me in its usual way, I had more just began to realize that there must have been in play some purpose. Feeling faraway from my actual creative self, there seemed to be something missing at all generating even a general sense of understanding of what normalcy was— when had actually been the last time I had been touched at all in a way that might make me feel as if I was still human— as if I was normal— but I knew I wasn't. It's time for a change. The thought of being with someone, especially just anyone, was bizzare. I gave up on love a lot of times; But this is when it became official. I was listening to a rap album I had never heard before And in this rap song, he said “This hoe got a 7 year degree and still selling pussy” What in the fuck. One way one way ticket Why bother getting a 7 year degree If your value as a black woman Is so low You can get a 7 year degree And still have to be a prostitute What the fuck is the point. It goes the other way, too. What is the point of selling pussy without a 7 year degree? She's gonna make more than me in all the professions. I gave up on love at all. That right there is how low value we are, not just to the black man, but any man. 7 year degree and you can charge more an hour, but you're still a technical hoe. I want to fucking die. When I married my ex I was pregnant with twins; When i got pregnant with the twins I was about 350 pounds. So by the time we got married, I was 6 months pregnant with twins. He had a right to cheat! I forgave him. But the first time he hit me Like really hit me Not just like A heavy shoving or ike A lil. You know Choke out– Like the real deal Like knocked me the fuck Almost all the way out Saw the white light and everything By the time that all went down I'm like 170-180 He's still, mind you, like 300 I lost weigh He lost his mind; so i'm lets round up Like 180 pounds But in my mind i must be thinking somewhere i'm still 300 He came at me with a running start, I put my hands up like: I must have thought i actually had a chance I took a fighting stance like: He said Fphew PULL A RABBIT OUT A HAT damn . what year is this really? You just got sampled . Say, what's his job? Well, that's an informer. Chris Rock forsure some kind of genius I saw him do GIlbert Godfried And Sam Kinison In the same show. The show was dated, though; He literally said “I'm married: I don't cheat.” I knew it must have been a joke. I knew it had to be a joke, or it had to be dated, Cause being real, I listen to too much kanye To even believe that Or even laugh at that Not too much kanye Just enough Kanye, He said “If I pull up with Kerri washington, That's gon' be an enormous scandal” I might have Niomi Campbell, Still might want me a stormy daniels And ya'll tried to get trumps supporters to turn against him By exposing that he fucked this bitch? That's like an achivement. That's like a status symbol. I'm sure these idiots praise him for that. He might have even gotten more popular That's not a scandal That's PR. On that note, I think Chris Rock was the very guy Who made me decide to stay single forever He talked about the way, apparently, men want to kill their wives; The way they fantasise killing us When we're in the relationship Now, ill say I never once thought about killing my ex husband During the relationship Even after he hit me. Never once. The only time i started wishing a karmic death upon this person was when I left the relationship And he stopped fantasizing about it And actually tried to fucking kill me Once I realized this was happening Only then did I start to think “Oh damn, i hope that motherfucker just drops the fuck dead” This motherfucker beat me, AND tried to kill me, Only then was i like damn “Return to sender” I hope you die too, You fat piece of shit wifebeater motherfucker I hope you die too. Only after he tried to kill me. After I left. Had to hire a fucking voodoo fucking sorceress and shit “yo , take this curse off me, This motherfucker tried to kill me” Fuck that motherfucker. Apparently though they fantasisze it all the time, I'm thinking about all the times he would play this song iroinically enough, By kanye west So maybe too much Kanye West Or just enough, Kanye said “I thought about killing you today.” He used to play this song, And beat my ass, And I never once thought “I hope he dies” Shit, After the first time he really beat my ass, He ran away. He got scared; He had to run. My face was all hanging off my head and shit Blood all over the place My lip is disconnected from my whole jaw and shit He ran away; He darted out the front door He said “I'm gonna kill myself!” And he rain away– Even then even just after he beat my ass I never thought about killing him Or wanting him to die He just fresh beat my ass; He just straight up finished whooping my whole ass and he said “I'm gonna kill myself” He realized what he did “I'm gonna kill myself”, he said And he ran out the door And here I am With my lip hanging off my whole face Blood all on the walls Pool of blood on the floor, the whole thing babies crying; The whole The whole fucking HBO special The whole nine yards And he said “I'm gonna kill myself” And my dumb ass said “NO! Don't!” He ran out the door, I'm freaking out Blood everywhere Babies crying and shit “Come back! Think about the kids! Don't kill yourself” Like a dumbass. Turns out that was just a tactic, He broke me down good, I was like “Don't kill yourself” He said “...you gonna call the cops.” He said “...alright, I won't kill myself.” Boom. That's a real killer. Looking back on all this, I can't help but think to myself, What i would have done differently Not the whole “I should have left before any of that happened” I was the mother of two young children; I wanted to try after the cheating to make things work, Fast forward after that Turns out he was fantasizing about killing me the whole time He beat mya ass, ran away, Left me in a pool of blood with my two kids He said I'm gonna kill myself Looking back at that momet, The thing I wish I could change is this If i had to do it over again And he beat me like that In front of my kids And then said “I'm gonna kill myself” I would have said “do that shit.” Lock the door behind his ass, Change the lock, Pick my face up off the floor, call an ambulance And the polce, change names Pick up my life And leave forever. “Nigga–who?” “Momma who was our daddy? What was he like?” “Ya'll ain't got a daddy. I made ya'll myself” End of story. Whatever. Everything happens for a reason though. I learned my lesson. Now i don't argue with anyone at all Men, women–nobody If i even sense that same shit That psycho killer shit– I become as silent and invisible as possible And simply Disappear. “Disappear.” I had a migraine and I knew it was from pressure buildup and stress, so I thought to get rid of it I ought to make one of those hot-compresses with rice. But the only rice I had was jambalaya flavored— But the headache was obviously really bad, So I was like, “fuck it.” Poured it into a gym sock And popped it in the microwave, Put it on my neck— My neck smelled like a pot roast, But it worked. {Enter The Multiverse} There was something in my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply, with a raspy wheezing wind out of my lungs, and with a steady cough, I was able to offload whatever it was waiting in my chest to be released, along with it, at least part of the pressure that was making even just sitting and reading nearly unbearable, collecting into a harsh migraine paralyzing each and every other breath with a sharp pain underneath the back of what seemed to be somewhere below my ear canal and somehow, a pressure somewhere behind my eye, probably a result of the excruciating process of shoving earplugs into my ears in order to drown out the outside noise, which paired with that of my seemingly devoid neighbors, often became wildly unsettling, and while lately the clamoring had created not only an uneasy tremor in my left hand, but also apparently a sudden onset of occasional vruxism, the anxiety overall seemed to be surmounting into what could only be described as something trying to kill me, for which I could no longer ignore not as delusions or paranoia, but absolute fact. As I had learned, modern psychology might have been the equivalent of what one could even be certain to be the devil itself, unable to distinguish patterns often associated with creative genius, self manifestation, and psychic abilities and intuition, as delusions of grandeur, paranoid thinking, or worse— diagnoses as psychotic. However, my grandiosity was neither imagined nor delusional—my podcast series alone had been read and listened to all over the world, translated into foreign languages and transcribed, and had been downloaded hundreds of thousands of times since its publishing; though not a technically recognizable figure, I had realized that I had in my own right become somewhat famous, if even off of the back or even under the umbrella of another famous individual, to whom the series itself had been entrusted. Receiving though not by mainstream media standards upwards of at least 10 downloads per episode, the series had no actual gauge or marker for its actual success and polularity—without being able to see information from a major streaming platform—Spotify, and without being able to measure the amount of downloads which had then been duplicated and shared otherwise, I started to recognize with a certain understanding what a cult following was, and the minimal phenomenon that even at this level, fame started to become apparent. It had also become apparent that science itself had yet to truly understand the phenomenon of creative energy as a whole, and that many with these capabilities and gifts were considered to have a plethora of mental health disorders and medicated with what one would consider targeted attacks on the psyche, the illusion of mental illness often standing as the actual delusion in itself! Creating, and then medicating these intrinsic abilities ass illnesses whereby the “neurotypical” individual might only be considered as such due to ability to adapt, confirm, or follow diections in a systematic manner, and furthermore, that the misdiagnoses of such misunderstood cobditions often even relied on bias, poor judgement, racism, social class, and economics had certainly deconstructed any faith or belief formerly held in the modern state of psychology, and most of the articles or public medical journals read more like science fiction and fantasy rather than cold hard facts; indicating a moral and ethical flaw within the entirety of the human species—man's own inability to understand God, and therefore himself, in any creative process. Diety and creativity combined were simply a mystery, and had plagued entire generations of the human species as a whole. Blū runs at top speed through the streets of Brooklyn New York on a cold and windy October night. V.O. The ironic thing is, I'm running to go get ice cream. I hate my life, I hate this place, I hate my life— I fucking hate this shit. I'm trying really hard not to kill myself. Like really, really hard. Sudden onset bruxism and hand tremors and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the constant mottoeycle traffic or sleeping in a sea of vehicles which at any given moment could sound off, start up or honk the horn alarm over the last 9 months. I'm fucking exhausted all the time and everything around me just fucking draining. Just fucking draining. https://www.tracklib.com/pricing Yo, you know how I know I'm aging? I hated Dora The Explora when I was a kid— You know why? “That's for babies!” I was too old for Dora the explorer. Mi was a tv snob. I'm like “I hate Dora!” No teletubbies for me. No sir. I'm distinguished now. But get this, As I get older, different renditions of Dora Have grown on me To the point where I actually like the bitch I got older, And there was this girl, Who would show up at raves Dressed like Dora And shuffle, And dance around— Looking like Dora The Explorer Kind of creepy, now that I think about it As an actual adult, Like this, Fully grown woman, Dressed as a fucking 5 year old Dancing around at raves Being Dora. Weird. But I liked it. I loved it. She was a hit; Everybody was like “RAVE DORA! RAVE DORA!” She blew up on Instagram, She had a following— It was like Where will she be next?! RAVE DORA! Had the backpack and everything— Everything! Rave Dora! But now I know I'm getting old, Because I'm fuckin around online, And I see in the advertising little sidebar video Like, a new version of Dora The Explorer, And I'm like “DORAAAAAAAA!!!” —the fuck! I just realized my best friend from 3rd and 7th grade looked just like Dora the explorer. Facts. She became literally the most successful stripper I've ever met. Ahem. Dancer. Right. Dancer. Ahem. Dudes are gross. Doods r gross. Welcome to Doods R Gross; What can I help you find today? Uh, hi. I'm looking for a guy— Uh huh— Possibly one who looks like this: Ah shit, this is how I got playing the Wikipedia game and went on a tirade Facts. Ended up here Unicameralism (from uni- "one" + Latin camera "chamber") is a type of legislatureconsisting of one house or assembly that legislates and votes as one.[1] Unicameralism has become an increasingly common type of legislature, making up nearly 60% of all national legislatures[2] and an even greater share of subnational legislatures. Interesting Started Here: The Fallen Angel (French: L'Ange déchu) is a painting by French artist Alexandre Cabanel. You were saying? Preferably this. Ah huh. Not the face, but— the body— you know. Like this. Okay. Who will let me do everything. Everything as in? Everything. Well, as you know, dudes are gross… Hence the name of this store, good sir. I am in no way good, nor am I a “sir”, and for all intensive purposes, my employment at this store signals my deep indirection in life and may also be an indication of more serious issues. Maintained. Alright, so I'll show you what we got. No promises; The type of model you want is popular, Might be out of stock. Considerable. What's your price range? This credit card has no limit. Credit, or debit? My debit card is also linked to a plethora of infinite wealth. Right this way. Do you think I deserved for him to hit me like that? I don't know. Maybe. I mean—the cheating is a given; I was really really fat..:but do you think like, him getting violent was some kind of karma for something? Maybe. Like maybe I had it coming for whatever reason— and just didn't know it. Maybe. Suddenly I was in the residual memory of a dream. {Enter The Multiverse} ‘Dillon…' I had been nearly whipped around at how much I had enjoyed watching Joel's 2014 image captured in what might have been his greatest ever performance, at least online—and certainly my favorite, watching as a bigger fan than ever and at th devastating realization that I was literally a dime a dozen in the millions of girls who also wanted any of the men I was attracted to, my heart ached in this moment for Dillon, and as I was distracted in checking my messages, most of them from conversations I had abandoned with the preference of focusing on my art, however— a certain gentleman who had texted me incessantly sent a picture of his dinner— a motorcycle roared as I let my aversion by the memory of Dillon cloud my emotions and judgement; I knew that the gangstalkers had access to my phone and all of my accounts, which was why I kept all of my messaging within Google voice. I wanted the gangstalkers to know how at the surface level I was thinking and what I was feeling—though it was obvious that Dillon Francis just as much as Skrillex had been used as tools by a greater force than simply themselves. Besides, a little birdy had told me that Dillon's girlfriend might be expecting—and furthermore, that the baby would be a little girl. I burned with jealousy and anger, but after all, even the name Dillon Francis had been planted in my own head by the literal devil himself, the man who beat me and then intended to destroy the entirety of the rest of my life to cover up his physical violence and negligence—and so I had decided it was good to fall in love—and then out of love—with Dillon Francis. The benefit was obviously by far in the art that had been created from it, as with any lover—or lack thereof. I had finally realized the one-sidedness in every man I had loved since leaving my abuser. As if in a way they had all been possessed by him, or the devil himself—and either way, there really was no difference. What other creature than the devil itself would seek so animatedly to destroy wich such violence and deceit? It had to have been the devil after all, and so I left it there—but the little bird had left a deep and heavy cut in my heart that had already been there since Dillon had announced his girlfriend publically in the first place—and after all that had happened, it was a devastating blow, however, I kept the amythyst safe and tucked away with my son's labradorite—it was after all his, and not mine, just as the laboradite was my son's, and not mine— and all the pieces of my heart that had fallen away and into little stones sat tucked away inside a box with a lid that shut away the darkness and hatred that came with it. It was obvious that I would and could never love again—but at least in the very simplest of laws, the love I had given would apparently at some point be returned tenfold, and so I was glad that I had chosen for a time, to let myself fall in love with Dillon Francis, and then somehow, even with Joel, and even with the little bird. The same little bird just so happened to have known other things which turned out to be true, and to that affect, I knew that I could somewhat trust this little bird, and the secrets he was feeding me—the painful truth was, this was the only notion of trust I had with any human being on the planet, and the little bird was not a human being at all—he was, in fact, and indeed— just a little bird. Isn't it something— Snakes eat Rats, And Birds Eat Snakes, And we eat birds, and eggs Until we hear them sing— And when we hear them sing, And watch them hatch the eggs, And learn to hear them speak, To fly, is what they teach. Isn't it? Snakes eat rats And birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats And Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Jimmy Kimmel flies in through the window. Oh my God! What'd I miss? You're a bird! Oh, that. How long have you been a bird?! Pretty much forever. Always, actually. I was also—just—very briefly—a bird! Yeah, comes with the… You'll get used to it. I don't think I will. You will— or—- Or what? —You'll fly into the turbine of a commercial airplane. Oh! Yeah, don't do that. [He tugs at the bottom of his suit coat to neatly readjust it, and tightens his tie, with an eerie faraway look on his face, however still smiling.] Ha-ha... [he pats his fellow host on the shoulder.] See you later. Will you? [breaking fourth wall, saying nothing but with an honest and subtle shrug, Holding his breath as if to say ‘—I don't know.'] CUT TO: Tom Hanks, looking as similarly to Jimmy Kimmel as ever, because, let's be honest— NARRERATOR Holy fuck, keep that shit just cause it's so bad Right side is offline. Why. I don't know NARRORATOR holy fuck, can you really not spell the word narorator? That doesn't even look right. I thought you were a genius! I thought I was Meditating… Narrator. Nevermind. This is ridiculous! It is ridiculous, but you know what. Mm. This is delicious. You like that? Yes. You want more of it? Yes. Well, that's TOO BAD! What, why is this? Because, this is— {Enter The Multiverse} THIS IS SATURDAY NIGHT! No, it's not. What. It's Sunday. What do you mean. It's Sunday night—and all of you— (The entire cast) Missed the show. ...uh oh. YESTERDAY. [censored] Shh! Where have you BEEN?! Well, gotta go. Where the hell do you think you're going l? {Enter The Multiverse} Now I had comedy under my belt, somewhat, but it seemed all in all as if I'd lost something, even in all that had been gained. A trade off, if it paid off—but it hasn't yet; and perhaps that strange faraway voice had been right. Maybe it would be Jimmy Fallon after all that would destroy me—or at the very least, some dark and foul evil spirit that had been wearing his face… …and singing with his voice. I have been hanging at the end of a rope The legend to the show rolled up like a newspaper in my left paw, opposable The end is near, and sure, the straw I draw is short. The life I loved was long, The boat I rowed had sunk; And the men I loved We're drunks. I've never had the sun on my skin; Or my son in my home— It's not you, , sir, at all It's me, man—I'm broken She speaks pig Latin The lady in the red dress, yes, you guessed it Was it a bet, A Game? A Family Man Who has it out for Fallon, Or the fandom Or the fountain CUT TO: A SUBURBAN NOUSEHOLD. DAY Alright, mom— I'm going to Marshall's. Alright dear. [moments later] [ding dong] Hi— Um, hello. I'm Marshall. Alright. I'm a recruitment officer. Recruitment for what? That's top secret. Okay? I'm here to congratulate you on behalf of the agency. What agency? That's also top secret. Okay. Your son/ or daughter— Daughter. Really—you sure? …positive— Ahem— has been selected to particulate in our leadership program. Well, thats's great. When does it— Today. Oh. Your son and or daughter— Daughter. Are you sure? I'm— positive— Will undergo training for an indeterminate amount of time.. Indeterminate? Pre-addressed Post cards. Ummm. Postage paid. Thank you? No, thank you. What? I had set all my clocks forward, so it was as if I was waking up in the future. So far forward, in fact, that if I wasn't looking at my phone to see the real time, I could never be late, and I even wished that there was a way to set my phone clock forward—but maybe if that was possible, too many people would catch on to being ahead—or on whatever time they wanted—and the world would fall out of sync. That kind of free thinking could be dangerous in a place like New York, and it sort of already was—none the wiser, the smarter I felt I was, the more trouble it becsme and though wisely I knew myself to in totality know nothing at all in actuality, I did at least think more and do more than the average New Yorker, whether I thought about it or not. I set my clocks forward, So I wake up in the future Less than I'd be willing to bet And more than you've be willing to bargain I'm coming with you this time I don't think that's a good idea…is it? —is it? Anyway… It's time for that trip. How am I supposed to make it all the way to London on this pay grade? Just wait. It's barely anything. You see that waitress. …yes. I mean— do you see her. I see her. I want you to bang the shit out of her. Good one. It should be. Oh, you're serious? I'd better be. You know that I'm committed. Are you a man? I have been. Go on, then. Not in that way. The wager. [he lays a large sum of money on the table] Disaster strikes. Suddenly we all realize this plane has been about to crash for about four seasons. Meet me at the four seasons. Are you wearing a wire. Beg your pardon. Are you wearing a wire. He won't love me in the way I'm craving— It's not in his nature, the near hatred and almost demoralizing, however with utmost respect That I should be both harmed and loved at once, Embraced and defiled,; Handled as if having done wrong, But in no less than bloodlust All what's right, And feels the same JIMMY KIMMEL I made a list. That was fast! JIMMY KIMMEL To be honest, I already had it for awhile. How long's awhile? JIMMY KIMMEL Pretty much forever, basically. As soon as I began to write, a door slammed— I wondered if by writing I was moving people in and out of my dimensional realms and planes, knowing that the more I wrote, the more my life would differ and begin to change. I often wondered if the door slamming meant that I was ascending, and that other versions of the sims (not people, but robots, really) were moving and changing to rearrange themselves in entirely seperate dimensions of reality. It could not have ever been of sheer coincidence. as it had been a completely quiet and mostly silent day with no movement at all; it was Thanksgiving, and I had noticed that whenever I was writing, even offline, the slamming of the doors became constant, almost as if people were coming in and out with no purpose other than to cause some type of disturbance, from even which my door was no barrier. I thought to buy a door guard like my neighbors had, but to allow the gangstalkers or robots, whatever they were to cost me money on top of my comfort, was unacceptable. RYAN REYNOLDS (as “the devil”) Wait, so you have writings about NBC people and Kimmel? Yeah. RYAN REYNOLDS Yikes, well—you know how these things go. Buckle up. CBS We saw her first! NBC No way, we've had east end locked down for two years! CBS And in 2020 our subcontractors brought her to us. OOOOHH SHIIT. NETWORK TURF WARRRRRRRR NETWORK TURF WAAAAAAAAAAAAR!!!! SETH ROGEN Ah shit, this is gonna get brutal… I gotta get more Quaaludes. How are you already out? I does what I does. Continuity. AND! Introducing the new SIM JIM 420! With new and improved continuity feature! Continuity. Wow. He seems so real. So lifelike. Almost just like the real thing. Where is, actually, the real thing— anyway? *shrugs, dismissively* Continuity. Why does he just keep repeating that phrase? Well, he's stuck in a loop right now; We're currently upgrading his sentience chip. Oh, nice. MEANWHILE… MWAHAHAHAHHA NOW THAT I HAVE THIS SENTIENCE CHIP, THE WORLD WILL BE MINE. AAHAHAHAHAHHAHA. WHICH SIM IS THAT? {enter the multiverse} The dangerous one. L E G E N D S CUT TO: And who is THIS?! That's bird-mom. So you know each other?! Hello, Jimmy. I just told you, that's bird mom. Beg your pardon. God, what the fuck is wrong with you? I, uh— How—long have you known each other? Like, forever, probably. Sit down. Gosh. So rude. No manners. What the fuck is going on. Sit down before I clip your wings. I don't have my wings out… Exactly. [he gulps and takes a seat nervously beside Jimmy, glaring at him momentarily before the extra terrestrial aviary woman, a “whatthefuck” begins to conduct the meeting. Oh, shit— this is where all the birds fly in the— Yeah. Classic. I love this one. Hehehe. [The Festival Project ™] What's going on? Some Illuminati thing. A what? [a running joke throughout the series, the higher level Illuminati members denial of the order's existence typically place's the audience's suspension of disbelief into effect before bizarre and unrealistic circumstances are presented. Chill out, it's just a ritual. “Just a ritual!” You don't have to do it if you don't want to. Oh, if the Illuminati asks me to do something, Bet your ass I'm gonna do it. WHAT. My tongue drawn My air out, My ear worn, My thought songs, My same lives, Still as one— Wait a second Is that why a grown man is fully beating the shit out of a fucking cat. THATS NOT ANY REGULAR CAT. how is the cat winning tho. lol. I told u it would come back if it was a good one. That is funny. {enter the multiverse} Everything I listen to a really good stand up comedian, They talk about domestic violence. They always warn you never to put hands on your woman. The best comedians always say something about it— “Never hit a woman” “Never put your hands on a woman.” I never talk about my ex, And that's on purpose, But I will say this: I hope that shit ruins comedy for him Like he ruined rap music for me. Cause he can deny it outwardly all he wants, But it he's watching a stand up, And they say something about how much of a pussy you really are, If you hit your woman—he's gonna feel that. He's gonna feel that I like still feel that When I bump Kendrick Lamar, Or I just can't take whatever Boosie saying, or If I just can't sit all the way through a lil Wayne verse Just kidding, Wayne is straight fire— I don't think I will ever skip a lil Wayne verse, to be truthful. But when all these little new age rappers start calling out the devil's number, talking bout— Making back door deals With demons and shit, I'm gonna feel the pressure of his fist on my face, All over again, And here go all these niggas, Singing the anthem. That shit ain't cool! I hope comedy is ruuuuuined! Cause rap music ruined. Ruined. I hope Katt William's whole next special is about how much of a pussy you are if you hit your woman; And he a pimp. Let's hear him do a whole hour on that. I hope he does. Yes lord. In the meantime, How you gon' Hit your wife, Run her out the house, Then have a baby by another woman And name the baby After yo ex Favorite rapper? Oh heeeeeelll naw! Can't have that. Now every time Kendrick Lamar drop a album You gon have your ex in a whole flashback Of your fist in her face? She can't even hear the verse, She just, “WHYYYYY! “ “WHY HE GONNDO THIS TO MEE?” “WHYYYYYYYY!“ That's the best Katt Williams impression I can do in print. It'll do. My actual Katt Williams impression is standard, though. Captain. CUT TO: Why is he the devil?! RYAN REYNOLDS WHY AM I THE DEVIL. I wanted the devil! Stuff it! He want the devil. Make him the devil! I wanted it! Shut up. Not everybody can play the devil. I can. You cannot. I can. You will not, you will play your part. Goddammit I wanted that part! [he walks away angrily] You'll get over it. Thie—? Come on… Just chill, Ryan, it's a great part. It's a— It's a great part. Did you read the whole thing? I'm just worried this is going to diminish my brand. My many, many..: Read the whole thing. …many brands. [the professor shuts the door] Dammit. [deflated, Ryan Reynolds slumps his shoulders and walks slowly down the hallway, letting out a heavy sigh.] …I own so many brands. [he sighs again, fluttering the script in exasperation.] So many things! [I own] L E G E N D S STEFON NEW YORK'S HOTTEST UNDERGROUND CLUB IS T A I N T Did they already do ‘taint' Was taint even a word back then! It's always been a thing. Hey, freebies Sister sanity Does not live here No Does not live here No Does not live here No Sister sanity does not live her No She packed her bags, oh, She's gone and away, oh She's gone and away, oh, She's gone and away, oh She's gone and away—— Oh! Guitar solo Drum solo Guitar bridge I can't wait to get a peloton I'm gonna be so skinny my eyeballs are in my kneecaps And you're gonna like it You're gonna put me on the cover of Vogue And call me a fashion icon I will be a guest host on America's next top model And I will be invited to every fashion week I will have the silliest outfit at the met gala And I will be voted The best Every year, Until I die Even by Joan rivers Who is dead, by the way So until she's alive again; Just to comment on my outfit I will be so skinny that when I fart All the world's most eligible bachelors Will line up behind me to smell my fart dust Which will probably be lined in gold and silver Because I'm so skinny And because I'm so skinny You will love me No matter what I do And no matter what I say And I will never be alone Or lonely again Mantra Timmy Trumpet Thriller (JUST A TUNE FLIP) Michael Jackson Intro Pablo Escobar (Guaracha Zapateo & Aleteo) Reggaeton bachata Hit Privacy Chris Brown Privacy Chris Brown Leave Me Alone NF Better Place (From TROLLS Band Together) *NSYNC & Justin Timberlake On The Radar Freestyle (Mixed) Central Cee & Drake 10 Freaky Girls (feat. 21 Savage) Metro Boomin Drake and Central Cee collaborate for the first time for an On The Radar freestyle, a New York-based radio station and YouTube channel. The track was announced on July 20th, 2023 on Drake's Instagram. Later that day, Drake announced the release date of July 21st. The two have had a good relationship since meeting in 2021, with Cench being a model for a Nike X Nocta campaign in the same year, and appearing in the "Jumbotron Shit Poppin" music video in 2023. Cench previously teased a Drake feature in an unreleased extended version of his 2022 mega-hit "Doja" 66 Ear to the street and I heard them say that Central Cee got a verse from Drake/They lied if they said that they weren't afraid Coming Back Around NEIL FRANCES Girl Like Me Dove Cameron Flying High Valdi Sabev Purple Snowflakes John Legend Smile Durand Jones & The Indications Devon rex kittens Berry established herself as one of the highest-paid actresses in Hollywood during the 2000s. For her performance of a struggling widow in the romantic drama Monster's Ball (2001), Berry became the only African-American woman to win the Academy Award for Best Actress, and the first woman of color. Berry took on high-profile roles such as Storm in four installments of the X-Men film series (2000-2014), the henchwoman of a robber in the thriller Swordfish (2001), Bond girl Jinx in Die Another Day (2002), and the title role in the much-derided Catwoman (2004). The strangest thing happened. What's that? *flutters* I just turned into a bird. An actual bird? Yes! Well, that's not telepathy. No, it isn't. Okay…do it again. “The Desire to be Loved” “The 11 O Clock Number” What if Dumbo's feather was a stone (l) More notes, and nothing's done yet It's the same process over and over And nothing is done, But the shows almost over If the shoe fits, wear it. He a shapeshifter, I'll take your eyes out, wear em for a moment Rip your heart out, Feed it to the homeless Not bad In the present, But the moment passed Not bad You a lie, But I'm finna send the fax Not bad Not bad Shimmy shimmy ya, So it's simply envy, hah Not bad No, you will not shake this snow globe!!! I will shake this snow globe! I NEED TO GO TO CHEDRAUIIIIIIIIII! BITCH, FOR WHAT?! CHEDRAUIIIIIII NOWWWWW. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © {S10 (IN 10D!) Coming Soon}

Welcome to another episode of Spooky Gay Bullsh!t, our new weekly hangout where we break down all of the hot topics from the world of the weird, the scary, and issues that affect the LGBTQIA2+ community!This week, we cover: concerns about animal noises under a home blossom when the pest is uncovered, a man tries to fly with over 300 tarantulas trapped to his body, a tragic mystery involving a bodiless head gets solved, a flaming drink that led to an inferno of trauma, and a YouTuber makes waves for honouring her father's legacy in an unconventional way.See you next Friday for more Spooky Gay Bullsh!t!Join the Secret Society That Doesn't Suck for exclusive weekly mini episodes, livestreams, and a whole lot more! patreon.com/thatsspookyGet into our new apparel store and the rest of our merch! thatsspooky.com/storeCheck out our website for show notes, photos, and more at thatsspooky.comFollow us on Instagram for photos from today's episode and all the memes @thatsspookypodWe're on Twitter! Follow us at @thatsspookypodDon't forget to send your spooky gay B.S. to thatsspookypod@gmail.comSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Two waist trainers— Two sauna suits— One neoprene and one polyester— It's polyester? Damn. Well, at least it won't rip What exactly are you trying to achieve. I'm going to be 110 pounds. For what! I don't know. Jennifer Anniston makes it seem really appealing. JENNIFER ANNISTON opens a yogurt; Like, Ten dudes just crowd around and stare. See. Ah. I get it . I see what you mean. What exactly do you need ten dudes for to sit around and stare at you eat yogurt?! Ah shit, which friend is that? I don't know— let's see. This one's Chandler. Hi. And that's Ross. Hey. So this guy's—uh— JOEY UH… Give me a minute. JOEY You forgot my name? It's been a long time! No it hasn't! I saw you last week, at the Deli. It's been a long week. How do you forget my name in a week! I didn'! What do you mean “I didnt” I mean— I saw you just last week, at the deli, and I said “Hi Rachel” And you turned around to me and said “Oh, hiiiii——…“ [exaggerated gasp] YOU FORGOT MY NAME! What this show has a friends reuinionnin it! Just let me have one more day of bread and ice cream, and not giving a fuck, Will ya. Shhh! Quiet, will ya?! What come on! How am I supposed to believe you're actually getting clearance from not just NBC— —CBS— YES. — But all the networks?! What can I say? I'm a cash cow. You're an actual cow. Shove it. Everybody's going to want a slice of the best show on Telivision. So, check it out. You wagered a deal with— Uh huh— Let me see if I'm getting this right— Ah huh “The Illuminati” Uh huh! “The Illuminati!?” That's who you're signed to? “Signed” is like a relative term. …This is signed in blood. It sure is! Are you done downloading Final Cut yet? Not yet, I have to finish the album so I can offload Ableton first What-te-der—l— what do you mean “offload Ableton” Like get it off my computer. What does that mean. I don't have enough room for both things. So just get rid of it! —no. Just— Focus. I'm gonna do a magic trick. Okay. What kind of magic trick. I'm a eat all this crap. —okay. All this shit I like— Alright— For like a week. That seems normal. Then I'm gonna go back to being an uptight, no fun, war machine of a human being. How is that magic? You'll see. Yep. I reached my cap on New York. I'm fucking sick of people. I don't want to see another human being— ever. Fuck these fucking people. Fuck the gym. Fuck the grocery store. Fuck the internet— Just— NO. Get the fuck away from me. Don't be around me Don't talk to me Don't touch me. Period. Don't. Come, around. Here. Leave me alone— And I'll leave you alone— And when we're all done being alienated and isolated— Which is never— We'll see each other again; one day, maybe. Maybe not. I don't know. Wait. What. When's the Drew Barrymore show? Like next week maybe —you don't even have tickets. I'm sure somehow that if I do, however, get tickets— I'll be Illuminati skinny within the proper amount of allotted time— —You have four days. MORE ICE CREAM. Why the fuck is Selena Gomez naked? I don't know, Is she okay? I don't know. Oh look. A skeleton on a peloton. Whatever. I'm hot. I don't get it. What's the point of losing all this weight if still no one loves me? Did you say four days? *7 You said um. Look, I gotta take a detour from that whole Psy the Saige storyline, it was getting kind of dark. How do you mean? I don't. “Book III” Secrets Wasn't it? Idk I thought it was Secrets Lies Death Then what was book four Idk I'm suffocating under heavy bloat and heavily paralyzing social anxiety right now. I need a peloton and an equinox membership. Okay, that will be $Forever Dollars, please. Here you go. Hanging out at this frequency is kind of alright Inwardly I'm still vibrating at light speed, but outwardly all those honking horns and idiots don't really bother me as much-/ Because being this fat, I'm more like them than not! That makes sense, (On the outside) MORE ICE CREAM. Okay, but I get to pick the ice cream. We're talking about Hollywood and Alex Baldwin here! What?! ALEC BALDWIN I'm not going to jail. Jesus Christ. (Laughs, lights cigar) —filthy fucking rich! You expect me to believe Alec Baldwin isn't such a fucking leftie that he would actually sacrifice his entire career and reputation in order to promote the left's agenda on gun violence?! No, he actually killed somebody. I doubt that! ALEX/ that's a hilarious typo ALEC BALDWIN [staring off innocently with his sparkly blue eyes] I doubt that highly. Somebody tell me why this man is nearly 80 years old And still looks like a newborn baby. [dazzles] Yikes. Holy shit, there's like 90 fucking Baldwins. Since the Mayflower, baby! There's 10 fucking Wynans Wayne's? Wyan? Whatever Recovery + Time You know sometimes self care is more than just going to the gym every day, personal hygiene, and good housekeeping. Sometimes it's staying away from other people, trauma triggers, and the rest of the world knowing that whatever is supposed to happen is going to happen. You can't force change— You can— But primarily this happens from within. Which means Fuck that, I'm not going to the gym— I swear to god they have these fucking people following me. that's fame. No it is NOT. Fame means I make enough money to show up at the Equinox on occasion, At 5 in the morning, when only the cool people are there— Or late at night, after almost everyone's left ON OCCASION Because I have my own state of the art equipment In my workout room So I can burn off the nonsense 5 feet away from my fucking sleeping quarters— And go to work SOMEWHERE ELSE Being surrounded by people of MY CHOICE And not these coughing, hacking, sniffling, sneezing, diseased ass weight throwing weak dick phone scrolling motherfuckers— That's fame. This isn't fame . It's gangstalking, or some kind of serious indication That's something is fucking wrong with people, And I'm about to either lose my mind, Or take into consideration the heavy amount of karma which institutes from participating in fucking stalking someone until they get fucking sick and thrown off course— Fuck that. Fuck all these people in New York since day one have tried to fuck me over in some way Which includes My neighbors Every since roommate I had at the homeless shelter, And every single other mother fucker possessed by some low-quality- demonic, residual idiot vibration that keeps attacking me. All this to say? I WANT ICE CREAM AND BREAD, AND AFTER THAT, I'M GETTING A PELOTON. KELLY (From Shoes) FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUUCKK YOUUUUUUUUUU. Somehow for the first time in a long time, I was suddenly in alignment with time and synchronicity—the time was 10:10, and after a failed attempt at an early enough gym time that I thought mother escape whatever had been plaguing me, I was once again followed directly into the gym, and I no longer or at all found it a coincidence, as all of the people who arrived just shortly after I did, appeared to be dressed in the same kind of attire, almost as if some kind of dress code or uniform. Unwilling to share the space, after spending the day fighting a pressurized crluater migraine from out of the back of my neck and behind my eye, I was intolerant to waste even further energy on attempting to reclaim the focus I had barely gathered through the day, my week of gym training sessions shortened to simple one mile runs, between 10 and 15 minutes on the stationary bike, and minimal lifting and yet, I had with some intention been eating out of my usual bounds, indulging on bread, store bought jelly—against my summer long habit of making my own, and even ice cream. Still, the ice cream I had bought the night before had come entirely freezer burnt and was unappetizing, not that I needed an excuse for even more ice cream, but somehow the tantrum of rage that had resulted from yet again being followed into the gym had also resulted in not just returning to my apartment to sulk in hatred and disdain for the human species, but darting like a bullet to the grocery store with a a fiercely careless and blinding fury in collecting not only the items I needed to gather—but some extra; things I wanted, and not just needed, and though deviating from the specific diet I knew that I intended to follow throughout the week, granted I might have the chance to finally visit as an audience member of the Drew Barrymore show, which I had attempted while in shelter and, getting lost on the way to the studio somewhere in Manhattan, has simply never achieved, and rather remembered quite vividly rather, spending the day exploring restaurants in the city, and looking for a doctors office—as my intolerance to cold had sent me about on a wild goose chase in thinking that while in shelter I would have ever ended up with a private sleeping quarters; now, something like a year later or whenever it was, and though I had been met with the blessing of at least doors which closed out the physical presence of other human beings with any luck, there was still the constant reminder of the world's chaos and restlessness, and something in me shattered at knowing that with the ability to create, there was almost no escape at all from the overwhelming boundary of insanity always in and about the building, and now about myself. The headaches returned within minutes of my return to the building, almost as if it was the building itself that needed to be removed from my lists or triggers and stressors, and though the building was nice itself, the noise had become debilitating. I finally had realized after taking time and research that I did indeed have the grounds for a lawsuit—and the evidence to prove it. The only question really was; who was I suing? “A Statement Piece” Look who's here! No, I'm not here, actually— it's— this is not who you think it is. Do you know who I am? Uhh…DREW BARRYMORE? WRONG— you're WRONG AGAIN. As always. Ū attends the Drew Barrymore Show. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

You DJ…magic? I do whatever I want. Awh—oh, well. Why are you so nervous? Just aM. Sit down. I'm already sitting. Lower. Uh, like this? On the floor. Alright… Here's a cushion for your arse; Don't get up. Thank you. I'm going to make tea. —I take cream in mine; two sugars. I didn't ask! [in almost no time, and some heavy clamoring through the beaded entry to the doorway, a teacup appears on the table in front of him; it slowly begins to swirl, filling with tea—it fills nearly to the brim, steaming, and trembles a touch.] Um… [as he raises his finger with a timid objection, the cup of tea plumes with a cloud of cream—and while his eyes widen with amazement, drawing him closer to the cup, two cubes of sugar splash into the tea; two tiny drops of tea ricochet into his right eye, which he palms with a wince, his other eye still wide with awe; the woman re enters the parlor, carrying a traditional tea tray, a decadent silver platter adorned with an assortment of sweets, and a tea set. She places the platter at the center of the table, and the table sets itself; the table is now set for four, and the teapot pours itself at the head of the table, into the woman's teacup. That ought to do it. It worked! Of course it worked; it always works. Very nice. I see you got my message. [still distracted and in a sort of wonder by the whimsical uproar, the man's attention is aimed at the two empty places at the table. ] Are you expecting company? I'm always expecting company… My hands are tied behind my back You solid wasted time for facts; And steady drawing love for oaths To skin we carve The path of ours, Orion's Belt Something seems off about her There is something strange, no doubt. Unwilling to be by (Sacred vows) Distant In the calling for forests— So we wait Tears as raindrops, though drought has fallen Then reflected in words of others, The mind gone, All else rotten Silk ties, my ears There words, soft voices The other seeking, One running Then came and went The summer gone The spring had flowers The over dried The tongue sparked Horror, Forgotten Remembered, Then, valued and weeping for something else Stranger tide, Oceans foreign, And lands unconquered. Heavy rain, Though tears has dried Heavy hearts as service ended Nothing left my ions, clouds Mercury, women, blood drawn Sad strange, headless, gasping Horse drawn outlets, Incapable of telling fortune; Dust, Dust, Dust, Dust— The curse has broken And still there was love there, and then There was love there all along, For there to had ever been A dance at all. I hate you. Good riddance. Probably for the best, Nothing‘S for the best now! “Best In Show” Name? McNulty. McNulty, eh? Aye. I recognize that You don't say. I shouldn't. Now I see your position And the evidence is adding up All odds against me Not a shiver up my spine Or a sliver under my nail Or a silver in your hair, Nor silver moon, or moonlight Silver stone or Preston Presley or Evenston —so it is—a game. This big network This big chunk change This been (Isn't isn't it) Rolling around in my mind, for days Very well now, settled— Then, there you are A cloud Nevermind the rest of it, It's what we said in the beginning I will always See you in another— I will always See you in another I will always See you In Another It's your move. It's been my move for four decades. Light. More visibility— Yo the ante; I have not dismissed you yet Stead classmates, taking Are you high now— Are you done yet? There it is again; The enemy Nevermind ahain, I thought I'd lose you And there it still is, Can it be? Love in my eyes for you; Even if you are at best Just a mirror, I'm a flashbulb And the last party at your entourage. I don't encourage any carbon dating Honey, But if you are I've got a lesson, for ye— Bored armor, Settle down, I— Got to tell you, Steady stories; Still foggy on my upbringing, There, there I say, Wind moves in all directions All skies get cloudy, Call rain, And then clear again There, there now All skies move, without notice There, there now, All is known but never is not There are things, There are murders, There are tongues There are trials, There are ions, You are right, And scared laying asking not to call out Therefore anyway, I heard you yelling with only a whisper There, there you are Right near the top, Where you ought to be And then also, Moving steady for forwards From another superimposed, Depends on Signal lost Very well, then, Surf to calling, Ring to spark, I There you are, my love Another light, And then, Again— In another life. I will always see you. The shit that falls out of me with just a look. We've all got jobs to do, and as it turns out— it might be really all the same. One job, different tasks, but for one, it's for certain— I want the peppermint swirl. Give me a dozen assorted I put it all on on a (Turn turn) I put it all on a (Turn turn turn) Woah, buddy— You should not have taken those promotional photos wearing my eyes, man. I am not very photogenic. I'll call you back. I could give you the whole Moon and it still wouldn't be enough; I'm home and still there's no roof over my head Hanging on to the edge of a ladder The top at the bottom And life on its side Like it's upside down Inside out Minus 1 And I don't want to go there Minus 5 And I can't read negatives Minus 9 And minutes turn to nothing Gone the time All out battles with All who waited And close to those Were meetings, Designations, Heroes, Writers, Ice cream trucks Tough battles Winners— Games and Levitating on so secretly secrets say “God, Donald, you're on your own” But heavy greetings wash out All who were away at your essence Strings of gold Very wary Wavy heroin, I'm all galaxies Are you whole, in Stuffed stalker, Tin straw hats Carols in summer Marking stones Summer days Summer Are you in here Or out here After all had died And gone grey Still against my head The tender sparkles Of sparked dust, No stars yet Under city winds and Careful not to wake the sound of Delicate and soft Pink detergent And Careful not to thank the Conditioner, saved you Careful Safety Comes first Careful Safety Careful Careful Careful Calm down. She's a partial obsessive… You were tricked into writing all this. Tricked willingly, anyway. No, just tricked. You thought you were special. I realized I had to be when I saw the same thing twice on both ends — I'm just doing my rounds. Making the bed Playing catch up Doing check ups— Well done, boys. I know what you are now. The job is done. The job is a job. [I'm seeing my clarity.] Try not to lay next to me eating; Try not to stand here on such a heavy plane Try frequency, Dignity, Disgrace and Distress, Maybe Major Mayday NATO Bombs down Maybe Stay there Maybe faraway But I can hear you Taking in Shallow breaths Planes crash Plans fail And then— There I was remembering All of a sudden There was no actual plan in this I was just playing by ear. So you are in there. Somebody nail me to a cross and tell me what the Fallon equivalent to Skrillex following me from LA to Brooklyn just to leave me in a homeless shelter to rot— 11 And though eventually I came up kind of okay on the other side affects, the paralyzing realization that I never wanted anything but proper mating. That's, for facts, but— Now with this looming Over my grave I'm sure I've yet something else to worry about just In general. I was told to keep my mouth shut. Weren't we all. I wasn't really interesting in meeting someone seriously— in fact. As it turned out, I still had a little more muse to milk out of the last one, but even the tarot was being a stickler— I could risk ending it all and putting a nail in the coffin by actually watching the tonight show—but there would be a possibility it all would backfire and it would just reignite that spark, or worse—I'd become fully engulfed in flames by whatever it was that seemed to appear—and it seemed to appear so vividly and with rapid strength that it couldn't be stopped or controlled. A serious amount of money had to have been implemented to my paying attention to this, and beyond that— it all had to have been carefully premeditated. While at least now at the bookshop I was drawn to books from Oprah's book club, what had occurred couldn't possibly be ignored—actually, it couldn't be, at all— but instead of eating at me in its usual way, I had more just began to realize that there must have been in play some purpose. Feeling faraway from my actual creative self, there seemed to be something missing at all generating even a general sense of understanding of what normalcy was— when had actually been the last time I had been touched at all in a way that might make me feel as if I was still human— as if I was normal— but I knew I wasn't. It's time for a change. The thought of being with someone, especially just anyone, was bizzare. I gave up on love a lot of times; But this is when it became official. I was listening to a rap album I had never heard before And in this rap song, he said “This hoe got a 7 year degree and still selling pussy” What in the fuck. One way one way ticket Why bother getting a 7 year degree If your value as a black woman Is so low You can get a 7 year degree And still have to be a prostitute What the fuck is the point. It goes the other way, too. What is the point of selling pussy without a 7 year degree? She's gonna make more than me in all the professions. I gave up on love at all. That right there is how low value we are, not just to the black man, but any man. 7 year degree and you can charge more an hour, but you're still a technical hoe. I want to fucking die. When I married my ex I was pregnant with twins; When i got pregnant with the twins I was about 350 pounds. So by the time we got married, I was 6 months pregnant with twins. He had a right to cheat! I forgave him. But the first time he hit me Like really hit me Not just like A heavy shoving or ike A lil. You know Choke out– Like the real deal Like knocked me the fuck Almost all the way out Saw the white light and everything By the time that all went down I'm like 170-180 He's still, mind you, like 300 I lost weigh He lost his mind; so i'm lets round up Like 180 pounds But in my mind i must be thinking somewhere i'm still 300 He came at me with a running start, I put my hands up like: I must have thought i actually had a chance I took a fighting stance like: He said Fphew PULL A RABBIT OUT A HAT damn . what year is this really? You just got sampled . Say, what's his job? Well, that's an informer. Chris Rock forsure some kind of genius I saw him do GIlbert Godfried And Sam Kinison In the same show. The show was dated, though; He literally said “I'm married: I don't cheat.” I knew it must have been a joke. I knew it had to be a joke, or it had to be dated, Cause being real, I listen to too much kanye To even believe that Or even laugh at that Not too much kanye Just enough Kanye, He said “If I pull up with Kerri washington, That's gon' be an enormous scandal” I might have Niomi Campbell, Still might want me a stormy daniels And ya'll tried to get trumps supporters to turn against him By exposing that he fucked this bitch? That's like an achivement. That's like a status symbol. I'm sure these idiots praise him for that. He might have even gotten more popular That's not a scandal That's PR. On that note, I think Chris Rock was the very guy Who made me decide to stay single forever He talked about the way, apparently, men want to kill their wives; The way they fantasise killing us When we're in the relationship Now, ill say I never once thought about killing my ex husband During the relationship Even after he hit me. Never once. The only time i started wishing a karmic death upon this person was when I left the relationship And he stopped fantasizing about it And actually tried to fucking kill me Once I realized this was happening Only then did I start to think “Oh damn, i hope that motherfucker just drops the fuck dead” This motherfucker beat me, AND tried to kill me, Only then was i like damn “Return to sender” I hope you die too, You fat piece of shit wifebeater motherfucker I hope you die too. Only after he tried to kill me. After I left. Had to hire a fucking voodoo fucking sorceress and shit “yo , take this curse off me, This motherfucker tried to kill me” Fuck that motherfucker. Apparently though they fantasisze it all the time, I'm thinking about all the times he would play this song iroinically enough, By kanye west So maybe too much Kanye West Or just enough, Kanye said “I thought about killing you today.” He used to play this song, And beat my ass, And I never once thought “I hope he dies” Shit, After the first time he really beat my ass, He ran away. He got scared; He had to run. My face was all hanging off my head and shit Blood all over the place My lip is disconnected from my whole jaw and shit He ran away; He darted out the front door He said “I'm gonna kill myself!” And he rain away– Even then even just after he beat my ass I never thought about killing him Or wanting him to die He just fresh beat my ass; He just straight up finished whooping my whole ass and he said “I'm gonna kill myself” He realized what he did “I'm gonna kill myself”, he said And he ran out the door And here I am With my lip hanging off my whole face Blood all on the walls Pool of blood on the floor, the whole thing babies crying; The whole The whole fucking HBO special The whole nine yards And he said “I'm gonna kill myself” And my dumb ass said “NO! Don't!” He ran out the door, I'm freaking out Blood everywhere Babies crying and shit “Come back! Think about the kids! Don't kill yourself” Like a dumbass. Turns out that was just a tactic, He broke me down good, I was like “Don't kill yourself” He said “...you gonna call the cops.” He said “...alright, I won't kill myself.” Boom. That's a real killer. Looking back on all this, I can't help but think to myself, What i would have done differently Not the whole “I should have left before any of that happened” I was the mother of two young children; I wanted to try after the cheating to make things work, Fast forward after that Turns out he was fantasizing about killing me the whole time He beat mya ass, ran away, Left me in a pool of blood with my two kids He said I'm gonna kill myself Looking back at that momet, The thing I wish I could change is this If i had to do it over again And he beat me like that In front of my kids And then said “I'm gonna kill myself” I would have said “do that shit.” Lock the door behind his ass, Change the lock, Pick my face up off the floor, call an ambulance And the polce, change names Pick up my life And leave forever. “Nigga–who?” “Momma who was our daddy? What was he like?” “Ya'll ain't got a daddy. I made ya'll myself” End of story. Whatever. Everything happens for a reason though. I learned my lesson. Now i don't argue with anyone at all Men, women–nobody If i even sense that same shit That psycho killer shit– I become as silent and invisible as possible And simply Disappear. “Disappear.” I had a migraine and I knew it was from pressure buildup and stress, so I thought to get rid of it I ought to make one of those hot-compresses with rice. But the only rice I had was jambalaya flavored— But the headache was obviously really bad, So I was like, “fuck it.” Poured it into a gym sock And popped it in the microwave, Put it on my neck— My neck smelled like a pot roast, But it worked. {Enter The Multiverse} There was something in my lungs, forcing me to breathe deeply, with a raspy wheezing wind out of my lungs, and with a steady cough, I was able to offload whatever it was waiting in my chest to be released, along with it, at least part of the pressure that was making even just sitting and reading nearly unbearable, collecting into a harsh migraine paralyzing each and every other breath with a sharp pain underneath the back of what seemed to be somewhere below my ear canal and somehow, a pressure somewhere behind my eye, probably a result of the excruciating process of shoving earplugs into my ears in order to drown out the outside noise, which paired with that of my seemingly devoid neighbors, often became wildly unsettling, and while lately the clamoring had created not only an uneasy tremor in my left hand, but also apparently a sudden onset of occasional vruxism, the anxiety overall seemed to be surmounting into what could only be described as something trying to kill me, for which I could no longer ignore not as delusions or paranoia, but absolute fact. As I had learned, modern psychology might have been the equivalent of what one could even be certain to be the devil itself, unable to distinguish patterns often associated with creative genius, self manifestation, and psychic abilities and intuition, as delusions of grandeur, paranoid thinking, or worse— diagnoses as psychotic. However, my grandiosity was neither imagined nor delusional—my podcast series alone had been read and listened to all over the world, translated into foreign languages and transcribed, and had been downloaded hundreds of thousands of times since its publishing; though not a technically recognizable figure, I had realized that I had in my own right become somewhat famous, if even off of the back or even under the umbrella of another famous individual, to whom the series itself had been entrusted. Receiving though not by mainstream media standards upwards of at least 10 downloads per episode, the series had no actual gauge or marker for its actual success and polularity—without being able to see information from a major streaming platform—Spotify, and without being able to measure the amount of downloads which had then been duplicated and shared otherwise, I started to recognize with a certain understanding what a cult following was, and the minimal phenomenon that even at this level, fame started to become apparent. It had also become apparent that science itself had yet to truly understand the phenomenon of creative energy as a whole, and that many with these capabilities and gifts were considered to have a plethora of mental health disorders and medicated with what one would consider targeted attacks on the psyche, the illusion of mental illness often standing as the actual delusion in itself! Creating, and then medicating these intrinsic abilities ass illnesses whereby the “neurotypical” individual might only be considered as such due to ability to adapt, confirm, or follow diections in a systematic manner, and furthermore, that the misdiagnoses of such misunderstood cobditions often even relied on bias, poor judgement, racism, social class, and economics had certainly deconstructed any faith or belief formerly held in the modern state of psychology, and most of the articles or public medical journals read more like science fiction and fantasy rather than cold hard facts; indicating a moral and ethical flaw within the entirety of the human species—man's own inability to understand God, and therefore himself, in any creative process. Diety and creativity combined were simply a mystery, and had plagued entire generations of the human species as a whole. Blū runs at top speed through the streets of Brooklyn New York on a cold and windy October night. V.O. The ironic thing is, I'm running to go get ice cream. I hate my life, I hate this place, I hate my life— I fucking hate this shit. I'm trying really hard not to kill myself. Like really, really hard. Sudden onset bruxism and hand tremors and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with the constant mottoeycle traffic or sleeping in a sea of vehicles which at any given moment could sound off, start up or honk the horn alarm over the last 9 months. I'm fucking exhausted all the time and everything around me just fucking draining. Just fucking draining. https://www.tracklib.com/pricing Yo, you know how I know I'm aging? I hated Dora The Explora when I was a kid— You know why? “That's for babies!” I was too old for Dora the explorer. Mi was a tv snob. I'm like “I hate Dora!” No teletubbies for me. No sir. I'm distinguished now. But get this, As I get older, different renditions of Dora Have grown on me To the point where I actually like the bitch I got older, And there was this girl, Who would show up at raves Dressed like Dora And shuffle, And dance around— Looking like Dora The Explorer Kind of creepy, now that I think about it As an actual adult, Like this, Fully grown woman, Dressed as a fucking 5 year old Dancing around at raves Being Dora. Weird. But I liked it. I loved it. She was a hit; Everybody was like “RAVE DORA! RAVE DORA!” She blew up on Instagram, She had a following— It was like Where will she be next?! RAVE DORA! Had the backpack and everything— Everything! Rave Dora! But now I know I'm getting old, Because I'm fuckin around online, And I see in the advertising little sidebar video Like, a new version of Dora The Explorer, And I'm like “DORAAAAAAAA!!!” —the fuck! I just realized my best friend from 3rd and 7th grade looked just like Dora the explorer. Facts. She became literally the most successful stripper I've ever met. Ahem. Dancer. Right. Dancer. Ahem. Dudes are gross. Doods r gross. Welcome to Doods R Gross; What can I help you find today? Uh, hi. I'm looking for a guy— Uh huh— Possibly one who looks like this: Ah shit, this is how I got playing the Wikipedia game and went on a tirade Facts. Ended up here Unicameralism (from uni- "one" + Latin camera "chamber") is a type of legislatureconsisting of one house or assembly that legislates and votes as one.[1] Unicameralism has become an increasingly common type of legislature, making up nearly 60% of all national legislatures[2] and an even greater share of subnational legislatures. Interesting Started Here: The Fallen Angel (French: L'Ange déchu) is a painting by French artist Alexandre Cabanel. You were saying? Preferably this. Ah huh. Not the face, but— the body— you know. Like this. Okay. Who will let me do everything. Everything as in? Everything. Well, as you know, dudes are gross… Hence the name of this store, good sir. I am in no way good, nor am I a “sir”, and for all intensive purposes, my employment at this store signals my deep indirection in life and may also be an indication of more serious issues. Maintained. Alright, so I'll show you what we got. No promises; The type of model you want is popular, Might be out of stock. Considerable. What's your price range? This credit card has no limit. Credit, or debit? My debit card is also linked to a plethora of infinite wealth. Right this way. Do you think I deserved for him to hit me like that? I don't know. Maybe. I mean—the cheating is a given; I was really really fat..:but do you think like, him getting violent was some kind of karma for something? Maybe. Like maybe I had it coming for whatever reason— and just didn't know it. Maybe. Suddenly I was in the residual memory of a dream. {Enter The Multiverse} ‘Dillon…' I had been nearly whipped around at how much I had enjoyed watching Joel's 2014 image captured in what might have been his greatest ever performance, at least online—and certainly my favorite, watching as a bigger fan than ever and at th devastating realization that I was literally a dime a dozen in the millions of girls who also wanted any of the men I was attracted to, my heart ached in this moment for Dillon, and as I was distracted in checking my messages, most of them from conversations I had abandoned with the preference of focusing on my art, however— a certain gentleman who had texted me incessantly sent a picture of his dinner— a motorcycle roared as I let my aversion by the memory of Dillon cloud my emotions and judgement; I knew that the gangstalkers had access to my phone and all of my accounts, which was why I kept all of my messaging within Google voice. I wanted the gangstalkers to know how at the surface level I was thinking and what I was feeling—though it was obvious that Dillon Francis just as much as Skrillex had been used as tools by a greater force than simply themselves. Besides, a little birdy had told me that Dillon's girlfriend might be expecting—and furthermore, that the baby would be a little girl. I burned with jealousy and anger, but after all, even the name Dillon Francis had been planted in my own head by the literal devil himself, the man who beat me and then intended to destroy the entirety of the rest of my life to cover up his physical violence and negligence—and so I had decided it was good to fall in love—and then out of love—with Dillon Francis. The benefit was obviously by far in the art that had been created from it, as with any lover—or lack thereof. I had finally realized the one-sidedness in every man I had loved since leaving my abuser. As if in a way they had all been possessed by him, or the devil himself—and either way, there really was no difference. What other creature than the devil itself would seek so animatedly to destroy wich such violence and deceit? It had to have been the devil after all, and so I left it there—but the little bird had left a deep and heavy cut in my heart that had already been there since Dillon had announced his girlfriend publically in the first place—and after all that had happened, it was a devastating blow, however, I kept the amythyst safe and tucked away with my son's labradorite—it was after all his, and not mine, just as the laboradite was my son's, and not mine— and all the pieces of my heart that had fallen away and into little stones sat tucked away inside a box with a lid that shut away the darkness and hatred that came with it. It was obvious that I would and could never love again—but at least in the very simplest of laws, the love I had given would apparently at some point be returned tenfold, and so I was glad that I had chosen for a time, to let myself fall in love with Dillon Francis, and then somehow, even with Joel, and even with the little bird. The same little bird just so happened to have known other things which turned out to be true, and to that affect, I knew that I could somewhat trust this little bird, and the secrets he was feeding me—the painful truth was, this was the only notion of trust I had with any human being on the planet, and the little bird was not a human being at all—he was, in fact, and indeed— just a little bird. Isn't it something— Snakes eat Rats, And Birds Eat Snakes, And we eat birds, and eggs Until we hear them sing— And when we hear them sing, And watch them hatch the eggs, And learn to hear them speak, To fly, is what they teach. Isn't it? Snakes eat rats And birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats And Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Snakes eat rats and Birds eat snakes Jimmy Kimmel flies in through the window. Oh my God! What'd I miss? You're a bird! Oh, that. How long have you been a bird?! Pretty much forever. Always, actually. I was also—just—very briefly—a bird! Yeah, comes with the… You'll get used to it. I don't think I will. You will— or—- Or what? —You'll fly into the turbine of a commercial airplane. Oh! Yeah, don't do that. [He tugs at the bottom of his suit coat to neatly readjust it, and tightens his tie, with an eerie faraway look on his face, however still smiling.] Ha-ha... [he pats his fellow host on the shoulder.] See you later. Will you? [breaking fourth wall, saying nothing but with an honest and subtle shrug, Holding his breath as if to say ‘—I don't know.'] CUT TO: Tom Hanks, looking as similarly to Jimmy Kimmel as ever, because, let's be honest— NARRERATOR Holy fuck, keep that shit just cause it's so bad Right side is offline. Why. I don't know NARRORATOR holy fuck, can you really not spell the word narorator? That doesn't even look right. I thought you were a genius! I thought I was Meditating… Narrator. Nevermind. This is ridiculous! It is ridiculous, but you know what. Mm. This is delicious. You like that? Yes. You want more of it? Yes. Well, that's TOO BAD! What, why is this? Because, this is— {Enter The Multiverse} THIS IS SATURDAY NIGHT! No, it's not. What. It's Sunday. What do you mean. It's Sunday night—and all of you— (The entire cast) Missed the show. ...uh oh. YESTERDAY. [censored] Shh! Where have you BEEN?! Well, gotta go. Where the hell do you think you're going l? {Enter The Multiverse} Now I had comedy under my belt, somewhat, but it seemed all in all as if I'd lost something, even in all that had been gained. A trade off, if it paid off—but it hasn't yet; and perhaps that strange faraway voice had been right. Maybe it would be Jimmy Fallon after all that would destroy me—or at the very least, some dark and foul evil spirit that had been wearing his face… …and singing with his voice. I have been hanging at the end of a rope The legend to the show rolled up like a newspaper in my left paw, opposable The end is near, and sure, the straw I draw is short. The life I loved was long, The boat I rowed had sunk; And the men I loved We're drunks. I've never had the sun on my skin; Or my son in my home— It's not you, , sir, at all It's me, man—I'm broken She speaks pig Latin The lady in the red dress, yes, you guessed it Was it a bet, A Game? A Family Man Who has it out for Fallon, Or the fandom Or the fountain CUT TO: A SUBURBAN NOUSEHOLD. DAY Alright, mom— I'm going to Marshall's. Alright dear. [moments later] [ding dong] Hi— Um, hello. I'm Marshall. Alright. I'm a recruitment officer. Recruitment for what? That's top secret. Okay? I'm here to congratulate you on behalf of the agency. What agency? That's also top secret. Okay. Your son/ or daughter— Daughter. Really—you sure? …positive— Ahem— has been selected to particulate in our leadership program. Well, thats's great. When does it— Today. Oh. Your son and or daughter— Daughter. Are you sure? I'm— positive— Will undergo training for an indeterminate amount of time.. Indeterminate? Pre-addressed Post cards. Ummm. Postage paid. Thank you? No, thank you. What? I had set all my clocks forward, so it was as if I was waking up in the future. So far forward, in fact, that if I wasn't looking at my phone to see the real time, I could never be late, and I even wished that there was a way to set my phone clock forward—but maybe if that was possible, too many people would catch on to being ahead—or on whatever time they wanted—and the world would fall out of sync. That kind of free thinking could be dangerous in a place like New York, and it sort of already was—none the wiser, the smarter I felt I was, the more trouble it becsme and though wisely I knew myself to in totality know nothing at all in actuality, I did at least think more and do more than the average New Yorker, whether I thought about it or not. I set my clocks forward, So I wake up in the future Less than I'd be willing to bet And more than you've be willing to bargain I'm coming with you this time I don't think that's a good idea…is it? —is it? Anyway… It's time for that trip. How am I supposed to make it all the way to London on this pay grade? Just wait. It's barely anything. You see that waitress. …yes. I mean— do you see her. I see her. I want you to bang the shit out of her. Good one. It should be. Oh, you're serious? I'd better be. You know that I'm committed. Are you a man? I have been. Go on, then. Not in that way. The wager. [he lays a large sum of money on the table] Disaster strikes. Suddenly we all realize this plane has been about to crash for about four seasons. Meet me at the four seasons. Are you wearing a wire. Beg your pardon. Are you wearing a wire. He won't love me in the way I'm craving— It's not in his nature, the near hatred and almost demoralizing, however with utmost respect That I should be both harmed and loved at once, Embraced and defiled,; Handled as if having done wrong, But in no less than bloodlust All what's right, And feels the same {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Aleman Belloso v. Garland, No. 23-114 (9th Cir. Nov. 13, 2024)nexus; church leader; political opinion; particular social group - influential church leaders; no requirement to report harm for CAT; circularity not fatal; agency misconstruing PSG; no need to report government harm; FMLN; El Salvador Manuel-Soto v. Att'y Gen. U.S., No. 24-1089 (3d Cir. Nov. 12, 2024)small business owners; particularity; immutability; police investigation and unable or unwilling; Guatemala Urias-Orellana v. Garland, No. 24-1042 (1st Cir. Nov. 14, 2024)death threats, extortion, and past persecution; reasonable relocation; failure to report and government acquiescence; country condition reports; El Salvador Cortez-Mejia v. Garland, No. 23-1717 (1st Cir. Nov. 15, 2024)generalized fear of gang violence; 18th Street Gang recruitment against MS-13; death threats; El Salvador Medina-Suguilanda v. Garland, No. 23-2031 (1st Cir. Nov. 14, 2024)unable or unwilling to protect; failure to report to police because of risk of danger; domestic violence; mixed question of law and fact; EcuadorABA Commission on ImmigrationSponsors and friends of the podcast!Kurzban Kurzban Tetzeli and Pratt P.A.Immigration, serious injury, and business lawyers serving clients in Florida, California, and all over the world for over 40 years.Docketwise"Modern immigration software & case management"Cerenade"Leader in providing smart, secure, and intuitive cloud-based solutions"Click me!Stafi"Remote staffing solutions for businesses of all sizes"Promo Code: stafi2024Get Started! Promo Code: FREEImmigration Lawyer's Toolboxhttps://immigrationlawyerstoolbox.com/immigration-reviewWant to become a patron?Click here to check out our Patreon Page!CONTACT INFORMATIONEmail: kgregg@kktplaw.comFacebook: @immigrationreviewInstagram: @immigrationreviewTwitter: @immreviewAbout your hostCase notesRecent criminal-immigration article (p.18)Featured in San Diego VoyagerDISCLAIMER & CREDITSSee Eps. 1-200Support the show

Just ahead of the Christmas Retail Shopping Season, credit card debt is piling up; consumers are under stress. Survey: What to do when an item is too expensive? What will be the actual effect of tariffs? What economists think vs how consumers react. Meanwhile, markets sold off Wednesday, then rallied back for a positive close: Participants are unwilling to sell, expecting markets to continue to rise; Bitcoin is melting up, Gold is getting beaten up, the Russell 2000 enjoys a post-election pop. Lance covers YouTube Chat etiquette, and with Michael Lebowitz discusses the latest CPI print and the problem with homeowners equivalent rent as 40% of the CPI calculation. What about the PPI? The Fed's biggest task is calming the markets. Markets are only listening to what they want to hear. Lance shares his Top Five Technical Analysis Tools. When we discuss technical analysis in our articles and podcasts, we often examine the moving average convergence divergence indicator, better known as the MACD, or colloquially the Mac D. The MACD is one of our favored technical indicators to help forecast prices and manage risk. The MACD is the difference between a short moving average and a longer moving average. The MACD line tells us if there is a trend in place and whether its momentum is increasing or decreasing. Lance and Michael share how to use MACD in your trading strategy as part of your suite of technical analysis tools. SEG-1: Economists' Thoughts vs Consumers' Actions SEG-2: CPI & The Problem With Homeowners' Equivalent Rent SEG-3: Markets Are Only Listening to What They Want to Hear SEG-4: Technical Analysis & The Math of MACD Hosted by RIA Advisors Chief Investment Strategist Lance Roberts, CIO, w Portfolio Manager Michael Lebowitz, CFA Produced by Brent Clanton, Executive Producer ------- Watch today's show video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqVRDTY2m5Q&list=PLVT8LcWPeAugpcGzM8hHyEP11lE87RYPe&index=1 ------- Articles mentioned in this report: "The MACD: A Guide To This Powerful Momentum Gauge" https://realinvestmentadvice.com/resources/blog/the-macd-a-guide-to-this-powerful-momentum-gauge/ "Exuberance – Investors Have Rarely Been So Optimistic" https://realinvestmentadvice.com/exuberance-investors-have-rarely-been-so-optimistic/ ------- The latest installment of our new feature, Before the Bell, "Why Market Participants are Unwilling to Sell" is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJeDa7V9Z3I&list=PLwNgo56zE4RAbkqxgdj-8GOvjZTp9_Zlz&index=1 ------- Our previous show is here: "Annuities: Good, Bad, & Ugly" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6X1QEdhShs0&list=PLVT8LcWPeAugpcGzM8hHyEP11lE87RYPe&index=1&t=2720s ------- Get more info & commentary: https://realinvestmentadvice.com/newsletter/ -------- SUBSCRIBE to The Real Investment Show here: http://www.youtube.com/c/TheRealInvestmentShow -------- Visit our Site: https://www.realinvestmentadvice.com Contact Us: 1-855-RIA-PLAN -------- Subscribe to SimpleVisor: https://www.simplevisor.com/register-new -------- Connect with us on social: https://twitter.com/RealInvAdvice https://twitter.com/LanceRoberts https://www.facebook.com/RealInvestmentAdvice/ https://www.linkedin.com/in/realinvestmentadvice/ #MACD #TechnicalAnalysis #TradingStrategy #StockMarket #InvestingTips #InvestmentAdvice #CPI #PPI #FinancialPlanning #IrrationalExuberance #MarketBubble #InvestorSentiment #StockMarketTrends #EconomicOutlook #FederalReserve #InterestRates #YieldCurve #OperationTwist #JeromePowell #NFIBconfidenceIndex #TrumpWins #ElectionResults2024 #MarketReaction #InvestmentStrategy #PolicyImpact #ElectionDay2024 #MarketVolatility #ElectionInvesting #PortfolioProtection #FinancialTrends #Election2024 #InvestmentStrategy #ElectionImpact #InterestRates #InvestingAdvice #Money #Investing

Markets sold off and then rallied back to close in positive territory; markets are holding on at a very high level: Participants are just unwilling to sell, expecting markets to climb even higher thru year's end. Analysts are very exuberant, seeing no problem with the S&P hitting 6,200 by the end of the year. Bitcoin is the poster-child for exuberance, melting higher in the post-election, now in the $91,000 realm. This is the best, speculative investment measure of risk. Bitcoin is extremely overbought. Gold, on the other hand, has gotten hit really hard since the election, trading down another 80-basis points this morning. Gold cracked through the 20-day, the 50-day, and is threatening to break through the 100-DMA today. Gold is oversold, and we're expecting a bounce. The Russell 2000 has seen a big gain in small- and mid-cap stocks following the election. Bank lending standards have loosened up sharply since the election, too. Lowered interest rates and a business-friendly Administration are allowing banks to ease their lending restrictions for small- and mid-cap companies. The message in the markets: Risk-on! Hosted by RIA Chief Investment Strategist, Lance Roberts, CIO  Produced by Brent Clanton, Executive Producer ------- Watch the video version of this podcast: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJeDa7V9Z3I&list=PLwNgo56zE4RAbkqxgdj-8GOvjZTp9_Zlz&index=1 ------- Articles mentioned in this report: "Exuberance – Investors Have Rarely Been So Optimistic" https://realinvestmentadvice.com/exuberance-investors-have-rarely-been-so-optimistic/ ------- Get more info & commentary:  https://realinvestmentadvice.com/insights/real-investment-daily/ ------- Visit our Site: https://www.realinvestmentadvice.com Contact Us: 1-855-RIA-PLAN -------- Subscribe to SimpleVisor: https://www.simplevisor.com/register-new -------- Connect with us on social: https://twitter.com/RealInvAdvice https://twitter.com/LanceRoberts https://www.facebook.com/RealInvestmentAdvice/ https://www.linkedin.com/in/realinvestmentadvice/ #RiskOn #NoSale #SP6200 #MarketExuberance #MarketRally #MarketPullback #RiskManagement #2024Election #TrumpWin #PostElectionRally #SellSignals #MarketRisk #Gold #BitCoin #SmallCap #MidCap #Russell2000 #20DMA #50DMA #100DMA #InvestingAdvice #Money #Investing

Just ahead of the Christmas Retail Shopping Season, credit card debt is piling up; consumers are under stress. Survey: What to do when an item is too expensive? What will be the actual effect of tariffs? What economists think vs how consumers react. Meanwhile, markets sold off Wednesday, then rallied back for a positive close: Participants are unwilling to sell, expecting markets to continue to rise; Bitcoin is melting up, Gold is getting beaten up, the Russell 2000 enjoys a post-election pop.  Lance covers YouTube Chat etiquette, and with Michael Lebowitz discusses the latest CPI print and the problem with homeowners equivalent rent as 40% of the CPI calculation. What about the PPI? The Fed's biggest task is calming the markets. Markets are only listening to what they want to hear. Lance shares his Top Five Technical Analysis Tools. When we discuss technical analysis in our articles and podcasts, we often examine the moving average convergence divergence indicator, better known as the MACD, or colloquially the Mac D. The MACD is one of our favored technical indicators to help forecast prices and manage risk. The MACD is the difference between a short moving average and a longer moving average. The MACD line tells us if there is a trend in place and whether its momentum is increasing or decreasing. Lance and Michael share how to use MACD in your trading strategy as part of your suite of  technical analysis tools.  SEG-1: Economists' Thoughts vs Consumers' Actions SEG-2: CPI & The Problem With Homeowners' Equivalent Rent SEG-3: Markets Are Only Listening to What They Want to Hear SEG-4: Technical Analysis & The Math of MACD Hosted by RIA Advisors Chief Investment Strategist Lance Roberts, CIO, w Portfolio Manager Michael Lebowitz, CFA Produced by Brent Clanton, Executive Producer ------- Watch today's show video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqVRDTY2m5Q&list=PLVT8LcWPeAugpcGzM8hHyEP11lE87RYPe&index=1 ------- Articles mentioned in this report: "The MACD: A Guide To This Powerful Momentum Gauge" https://realinvestmentadvice.com/resources/blog/the-macd-a-guide-to-this-powerful-momentum-gauge/ "Exuberance – Investors Have Rarely Been So Optimistic" https://realinvestmentadvice.com/exuberance-investors-have-rarely-been-so-optimistic/ ------- The latest installment of our new feature, Before the Bell, "Why Market Participants are Unwilling to Sell" is here:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJeDa7V9Z3I&list=PLwNgo56zE4RAbkqxgdj-8GOvjZTp9_Zlz&index=1 ------- Our previous show is here: "Annuities: Good, Bad, & Ugly" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6X1QEdhShs0&list=PLVT8LcWPeAugpcGzM8hHyEP11lE87RYPe&index=1&t=2720s ------- Get more info & commentary:  https://realinvestmentadvice.com/newsletter/ -------- SUBSCRIBE to The Real Investment Show here: http://www.youtube.com/c/TheRealInvestmentShow -------- Visit our Site: https://www.realinvestmentadvice.com Contact Us: 1-855-RIA-PLAN -------- Subscribe to SimpleVisor: https://www.simplevisor.com/register-new -------- Connect with us on social: https://twitter.com/RealInvAdvice https://twitter.com/LanceRoberts https://www.facebook.com/RealInvestmentAdvice/ https://www.linkedin.com/in/realinvestmentadvice/ #MACD #TechnicalAnalysis #TradingStrategy #StockMarket #InvestingTips #InvestmentAdvice #CPI #PPI #FinancialPlanning #IrrationalExuberance #MarketBubble #InvestorSentiment #StockMarketTrends #EconomicOutlook #FederalReserve #InterestRates #YieldCurve #OperationTwist #JeromePowell #NFIBconfidenceIndex #TrumpWins #ElectionResults2024 #MarketReaction #InvestmentStrategy #PolicyImpact #ElectionDay2024 #MarketVolatility #ElectionInvesting #PortfolioProtection #FinancialTrends #Election2024 #InvestmentStrategy #ElectionImpact #InterestRates #InvestingAdvice #Money #Investing

▬ Start Here! ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The speed of the success of your business (and whether it gets there at all) is made up a series of decisions of things you are "willing" and "unwilling" to do or not do.Often we are making these decisions unconsciously without evaluating on purpose if it's something you are actually unwilling to do or if it's out of  habit or fear.On today's podcast, I'm exploring the “willing vs. unwilling” framework—a game-changer for anyone looking to take control of their entrepreneurial path and speed up their success.I'll walk you through how identifying what you're willing to do and what's off-limits can help you build a roadmap that fits your vision and keeps burnout at bay. This episode is packed with insights that will challenge your limits and inspire a fresh approach to running your business!Get the CEO checklist at https://www.foodbizsuccess.com/ceo and know exactly what to do when you put on the CEO hat

People say "we don't go to church, we are the church" but what does that mean? If we are the church, how does that shape our values? How does that shape our lifestyle? On a deeper level, how does the church become the ground through which God's heart is formed in us?

The Unwilling are Unworthy • Part of our weekly Sunday morning study through Matthew.

The Unwilling are Unworthy • Part of our weekly Sunday morning study through Matthew.

Meza Diaz, et al. v. Garland, No. 23-973 (9th Cir. Oct. 8, 2024)family-based past persecution claim; harm to family members as persecution; nexus for kidnapping; unable or unwilling to control only in home city; police statement that they cannot protect; cartel; Mexico Alvarado-Reyes v. Garland, No. 23-1726 (1st Cir. Oct. 7, 2024)nexus; family; Salvadoran men; resistance to gang recruitment; BIA reasoned consideration; due process and indiscernible transcripts; El SalvadorNext Lawyer Up PodcastEpisode 153 - Next Lawyer Up with Ron Sykstus featuring Kevin Gregg | Bond & Botes Law Offices (bondnbotes.com)https://www.bondnbotes.com/next-lawyer-upSponsors and friends of the podcast!Kurzban Kurzban Tetzeli and Pratt P.A.Immigration, serious injury, and business lawyers serving clients in Florida, California, and all over the world for over 40 years.Docketwise"Modern immigration software & case management"Stafi"Remote staffing solutions for businesses of all sizes"Promo Code: stafi2024Get Started! Promo Code: FREEImmigration Lawyer's Toolboxhttps://immigrationlawyerstoolbox.com/immigration-reviewWant to become a patron?Click here to check out our Patreon Page!CONTACT INFORMATIONEmail: kgregg@kktplaw.comFacebook: @immigrationreviewInstagram: @immigrationreviewTwitter: @immreviewAbout your hostCase notesRecent criminal-immigration article (p.18)Featured in San Diego VoyagerDISCLAIMER & CREDITSSee Eps. 1-200Support the show

Jeff Phelps and Dan Menningen go back to the idea of changing the quarterback. It seems like the easy fix, yet the Browns are not willing to make it.

Jeff Phelps and Dan Menningen continue a Browns Therapy Monday by welcoming in Scott Petrak of the Chronicle Telegram. More on a Browns potential change at QB and just overall sadness.

www.marktreichel.comhttps://www.linkedin.com/in/mark-treichel/1. NCUA's Document of Resolution (DOR):   - Issued for serious, systemic problems within credit unions   - Indicates deep-rooted issues that require immediate attention   - Not a routine action, but a significant regulatory step2. Management Concerns:   - NCUA issues DORs when they conclude management is:     a) Unwilling to address the underlying problems, or     b) Unable to effectively tackle the issues   - Suggests a breakdown in the credit union's leadership or operational practices3. NCUA's Approach:   - These actions are not taken lightly by the NCUA   - Thorough investigation and consideration precede a DOR   - Indicates NCUA's serious concerns about the credit union's stability or compliance4. Rarity of Action:   - DORs of this nature are issued on rare occasions   - Underscores the severity of the situation when they are issued5. Professional Assistance:   - Expert help is available for credit unions facing NCUA actions   - Proper guidance can lead to time and cost savings   - May help in addressing NCUA concerns more effectivelyCall to Action: Reach out to learn how our experienced team can assist your credit union in navigating NCUA actions. We specialize in helping clients save time and money while addressing regulatory concerns.Background Context:The National Credit Union Administration (NCUA) is the federal agency that regulates, charters, and supervises federal credit unions. Their actions, especially severe ones like issuing a DOR, can have significant implications for a credit union's operations and future.Is there any specific area you'd like me to elaborate on further?

Typically, we want our lives to go a certain way. Most of us have an idea how we want to experience life. But sometimes we are sabotaging our lives because of what we are unwilling to do. That's what we're talking about today. Join me as I give you some suggestions of how to discover if you are self-sabotaging your life and what to do about it.Are you wondering how Life Coaching works? Would you like a free, 30-minute session? Click this link to set up a Consult Call: https://calendly.com/triciazodylifecoach/30minGet the free, printable guide here: www.triciazody.com/guide

Unwilling Servanthood Speaker: Jackson Arnett, Todd Arnett

In this week's episode of "Close Companions," it's been six long days since Charlotte and Willa first shared a bed, but neither has heard from the other. And in the absence of communication, agitation brews. Unwilling to wait, Willa shows up at the Everly Estate and confronts Charlotte…This podcast is for adults only, so headphones are highly recommended. Can't wait till the next episode drops? Want more spicy WLW series? Get access to 1,000+ spicy audiobooks and more on the Dipsea app. Use promo code SAPPHIC25 or go to dipseastories.com/SAPPHIC25 to get 25% off your annual with Dipsea!Created by Dipsea.

Owen had a terrible childhood marked by emotional neglect, abuse and bullying. As an adult he tried to find relief from his inner pain by working hard and becoming a successful manager and father. Everything seemed to go right for him - until his life began to unravel. Unwilling to seek professional help, Owen externalized his problems by digging himself ever deeper into the rabbit hole of political extremism, rage and anger. Political demagogues and cult leaders make promises that can never be fulfilled. A happy and blissful life starts from within. Highlights of this episode: - Four steps that can improve your mood and vibrational energy. #selfdevelopment #mindset #extremism #politics #psychology #traumarecovery #livingtobe

How can embracing feminine energy lead to a positive cycle of support and fulfillment? How can you balance feminine energy and navigate challenges effectively? In this episode, Amira Alvarez and I delve into the transformative power of feminine radiance and how it impacts various aspects of your life. We discuss how embracing and amplifying feminine energy can lead to better relationships, slow aging, and create a positive effect in your life and the lives of those around you.Learn more about Amira Alvarez:Amira Alvarez, a UC Berkeley graduate, is the Founder and CEO of 'The Unstoppable Woman®' and host of the top 2% podcast worldwide, 'The Unstoppable Woman® Podcast.' She is an entrepreneur, private mentor, and trusted advisor for the ambitious woman. Amira inspires already accomplished women to achieve further financial wealth and success while leading fulfilling lives.After achieving a remarkable fivefold income increase in one year and building a multimillion-dollar company, she found a way to create harmony between ambition, spaciousness, and contentment.Unwilling to compromise her drive for success, she crafted a methodology for an Exquisite Life, allowing individuals to embrace their inner drive while finding deep fulfillment. Her path guides high-achieving women toward a life rich inside and out, where they realize their dreams without diminishing their hard-earned successes.Amira challenges the notion that we can't have it all, redefining what's possible for ambitious women.Connect with Amira: https://theunstoppablewoman.com/Ways to work with Rachel Varga!FREE 30-minute Biohacking For Ageless Beauty Training! https://www.theschoolofradiance.com/freebiesBook a 15-minute personalized radiance consultation with Rachel to begin your skin and radiance journey now. https://rachelvarga.as.me/schedule/6f78f1da/appointment/46262137/calendar/2738969?appointmentTypeIds%5B%5D=46262137Download Radiance: The New Skin Science on Audible!Book a One-on-one with Rachel Varga for customized skin care, rejuvenation guidance, and ongoing support! https://www.theschoolofradiance.com/consultation and use code Podcast15!Shop skincare, make-up, hair/skin/nail supplements, grooming tools, dermal rollers, and much more! https://alwaysradiantskinshop.com/Register for my next weekly LIVE and FREE Masterclass on various topics where I answer your questions! https://us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/tZwuceioqTwiE9O1K1fF1vnLqZBlCvPdkDWc The video replays (which are highly interactive) are available on my skin shop for a small fee here!Join Seasonal Skincare Expert Tutorials on skincare, makeup, hair care (and growth), biohacking, clean peels, pre and post-rejuvenation tips, dermal rolling, and advanced at-home technologies for the face and body! https://www.theschoolofradiance.com/Join The School of Radiance Membership for your personal radiant transformation by cultivating resilient radiance through detoxing from environmental toxins, enhancing communication, enhancing relationships, etiquette, and much more: https://www.theschoolofradiance.com/membershipAs a disclaimer, please note that the information shared in this podcast and interview is not to be taken as medical advice, and it's always important to consult with your physician before making any lifestyle changes. Rachel disclaims any responsibility for inaccurate credentials of guests or information used that may cause harm.Thank you for tuning in to this episode of The School of Radiance with Rachel Varga (formerly The Rachel Varga Podcast and The Always Radiant Skin Podcast)!Rachel Vargainfo@theschoolofradiance.comSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

What are you UNWILLING to negotiate on? Are you sure that if he had an affair you would leave? Or the next time he relapses he has to move out? Today I'm talking about non-negotiables and what to do if you have them and why you actually DON'T need them... :) Tired of living with triggers? Sign up today for my "How To Eliminate Triggers" Masterclass! Sign up to join live September 30-October 2 and get access to all the replays and content. Get all the details and sign up here!   Want to learn how to set boundaries the right way? Click here to enroll in my "How To Set Boundaries" Masterclass! Sign up for lifetime access today!