Podcasts about Vaseline

Nick Thompson is the CEO of The Atlantic. But he moonlights as a damn good runner. At 44, he ran a marathon in 2 hours and 29 minutes, making him one of the fastest marathoners his age on the planet. He later set an American age group record in the 50K. He has run in blazing heat with ice tucked into his hat and in frigid cold with Vaseline dabbed on his nose. He's run up sunny mountain trails and down dark city streets. He has run, and run, and run some more. His relationship with the sport is the subject of his new memoir, The Running Ground. It's a book about the fragile boundary between love and obsession, between progress and suffering. And it's about the way we all run in loops: away from the past and then back toward it. (4:35) Nick reads from The Running Ground (8:00) On his father: "Not a simple guy" (16:34) How the sport finds you (30:00) A personal best, then a cancer diagnosis (40:56) The four states of running bliss (and how to reach them) (46:29) How Nick got faster in his forties (49:14) The big takeaway (50:33) Want to start running? Do this. (53:14) Is running actually good for you? Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

“Is it your civic duty to let people merge onto the highway—or are you just cruising in the right lane like a menace?”That's the philosophical question that kicks off a hilariously heated debate in this episode of The Ben and Skin Show, where Ben Rogers, Jeff “Skin” Wade, Kevin “KT” Turner, and Krystina Ray dive headfirst into Cowboys disappointment, Mavs magic, and the mystery of Vaseline on the sidelines.Cowboys Therapy Session: The crew mourns another Cowboys loss, dissecting the team's defensive woes and jokingly predicting an 8-8-1 season—just to see if Brad Sham will come after them on Twitter.Ben's Viral Moment: Ben recounts sitting courtside at a Mavs game with his daughter, only to end up in a viral photo celebrating wildly—with a suspicious tub of Vaseline and lotion in front of him. KT's crop job and Skin's commentary turn this into one of the funniest moments of the episode.

Here's Strange Brew #404 from 07/02/25 - Skinner's favourite song (by The Magnetic Fields) + Shark School, Cruel Sister, Squid, Ria Rua, Black Country, New Road, The Vaselines, Ginnels, Paddy Hanna, Perfume Genius, Neosupervital.

Here's Strange Brew #407 - I Love That For You (28/02/25) - Had a chat with Cormac Battle. He loves a bit of Teen Age Riot. Who doesn't? Also, loads of new music. Albums from Joshua Burnside, Maria Kelly, Deep Sea Diver are out today. A load of these bands are on tour. Go buy tickets. Come see The Vaselines in the Róisín, for example.

Here's Strange Brew #412 Turn Me Down (04/04/25) - The Vaselines tell me about their favourite song, and, like, it was very easy to misunderstand what Eugene said, so I thought it was a band called The Throws, whom I'd never heard of and may or may not exist. It wasn't. It was The Thrills. We figured it out after. Good save. Frances chose a fantastic track by Pictish Trail. Also, some class new music. Wu Lyf are back and I'm still pronouncing it wrong. Anyway, have a great weekend.

Durante las próximas cuatro semanas, Cancioneros hará una breve pausa. Volveremos con nuevos episodios el 17 de noviembre. Mientras tanto, estaremos compartiendo nuevamente episodios de nuestras temporadas anteriores. Albina Cabrera se sumerge en Raw Power de The Stooges, Surfer Rosa de Pixies y Dying For It de The Vaselines mientras te lleva a viajar por el rock moderno de América Latina. En el capítulo inaugural de El Cancionero de Kurt, marcamos las coordenadas musicales para entender la influencia de Cobain, Nirvana y su cancionero en la cultura rock del continente. Desde las semillas protopunk de The Stooges y su 'Raw Power', que nos llevarán al desarrollo del rock colombiano de Bogotá a fines de los años 90; pasando por el intercambio universitario del líder de Pixies en Puerto Rico que lo lleva a componer gran parte de 'Surfer Rosa', un disco icónico del indie rock latinoamericano; hasta llegar a la gema escocesa de The Vaselines, banda popularizada gracias al fanatismo de Kurt Cobain y los covers hechos por Nirvana. Su influencia llegó a Monterrey, México, donde la banda de stoner rock, Los Mundos, graba la única versión en español de 'Molly’s Lips', “Los Labios de Molly”. Agradecimientos especiales: Juan Sebastián Barriga Ossa, periodista e historiador colombiano. Autor del artículo "El mito es real: la temporada de idilio de Iggy Pop en Colombia" publicado en Noisey- Vice Enrique Lichi: Líder de la banda panameña Making Movies. Tatiana Tenreyro: Periodista puertorriqueña radicada en Nueva York y autora del artículo "El Papel Complicado de Puerto Rico en 'Surfer Rosa' de Pixies", publicado en 2018 por Billboard. Santiago Barrionuevo de El Mató a un Policía Motorizado, Argentina. Media Hermana, banda argentina, parte de la compilación "Gigante: un tributo argentino a Pixies". Host: Albina CabreraAudio producer: Roddy NikpourPodcast manager: Isabel KhaliliEditorial director: Larry Mizell Jr. Support the podcast: kexp.org/elsonido For the next four weeks, Cancioneros will be taking a short break. We’ll return with new episodes on November 17th. In the meantime, we’ll be re-sharing episodes from our previous seasons. Albina Cabrera dives into Raw Power by The Stooges, Surfer Rosa by Pixies, and Dying For It by The Vaselines as she takes you on a journey through modern Latin American rock. In the inaugural chapter of El Cancionero de Kurt, we set the musical coordinates to understand the influence of Cobain, Nirvana, and their songbook on the rock culture of the continent. From the protopunk seeds of The Stooges with their Raw Power, leading us to the development of Colombian rock in Bogotá in the late 90s; to the university exchange of the Pixies' leader in Puerto Rico that led to the composition of much of Surfer Rosa, an iconic album of Latin American indie rock; and finally to the Scottish gem The Vaselines, a band popularized by Kurt Cobain's fanaticism and covers by Nirvana. Their influence reached Monterrey, Mexico, where the stoner rock band Los Mundos recorded the only Spanish version of 'Molly’s Lips', 'Los Labios de Molly'. Special Thanks: Juan Sebastián Barriga Ossa, Colombian journalist and historian. Author of the story published in Vice about Iggy Pop and Colombia. Enrique Lichi: Leader of the Panamanian band Making Movies. Tatiana Tenreyro: New York-based Puerto Rican journalist and author of the article "The Complicated Role of Puerto Rico in Pixies’ 'Surfer Rosa'," published in 2018 by Billboard. Santiago Barrionuevo from El Mató a un Policía Motorizado, Argentina. Media Hermana, an Argentinian band, part of the compilation "Gigante: un tributo argentino a Pixies" Host: Albina CabreraAudio producer: Roddy NikpourPodcast manager: Isabel KhaliliEditorial director: Larry Mizell Jr. Support the podcast: kexp.org/donateSupport the show: http://kexp.org/elsonidoSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 2 A Quick Execution Plan In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             If my life is a mirror, why does mine have to be one-way with me on the wrong side.     Christina was waiting for me when I came out, minus her servant (classes had just been let out so she hadn't snared one yet), but she'd gained three sidekicks who looked upon me with varying degrees of amusement and contempt. The shortest of them, a sexy brunette with a foxy-like face glared at me with ill-disguised hate, over what I had no idea. "Come on, Zane," Christina said as she handed me her book bag, "time to face judgment." "Face judgment?" I mused. "Are we really going there? I made an honest mistake and besides, isn't forgiveness of sins the prime Christian virtue?" Angry Girl grabbed my arm and yanked but the sad facts of physics and my contrariness kept her from moving me. The girl ground her teeth, on the cusp of rage. "Zane, come," dictated Christina calmly. "Heaven, release him before he starts crying to the liberal media about physical abuse." Heaven? Seriously, who names their daughter Heaven, I thought, then I remembered where I'm standing. I meekly went to Christina's side when Heaven released me, then we started making our way to the Administration Building. My phone went off and I checked the message and had to snicker. It was Iona and apparently the girls are starting to use my time as some sort of currency. "What was that all about?" another sidekick asked. This one was actually friendly. "I'm Chastity," she identified herself. "Hey, Chastity," I grinned back to her. "That was an enterprising freshman who is keeping track of which lady has requested my Handmaiden services, and now I'm apparently being swapped around." "You are a whore," snarled Angry Chick Heaven. "Listen," I shot back, "this is your crazy tradition, not mine. I'm only doing what my upperclassmen are demanding of me. I'm acting like any other incoming freshman. But I have to admit, I haven't actually read the handbook yet." "Let it be, Heaven," advised Christina. "This will all be over in thirty minutes and he'll be gone." On that note, I turned to the last unnamed senior. "So what's your name, if you would be so kind as to tell me?" "Faith," she replied cautiously. I kept grinning. "I swear, if you ladies have a girl named Hope in your close circle of friend we should form an all-girls 80s-style punk rock band. I'll be the manager, constantly clashing with Christina over artistic differences," I rambled on. "You are kind of a nut," Chastity pointed out. "I'm on the verge of the shortest college career in history so I admit to being a bit nervous," I confessed, and surprise of surprises, Chastity placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. Somehow that made Heaven angrier with me, which I didn't think was possible. Before I could delve into the psychoses of Heaven, we arrived at the Chancellor's office. I gave Christina her bag as the girls abandoned me once the secretary ushered me in with a disdainful sniff of her nose. Inside were six women but I only recognized two: Chancellor Doctor Melrose Bazz and Ms. Goodswell, who also happened to be my assigned Spiritual Advisor. "Come in and sit down, Mr. Braxton," commanded Doctor Bazz. Since the only open chair was directly in front of her desk and flanked by the other chairs (so I'd be doubly flanked), I took my seat. "As you must now understand, there has been a horrible error," the Chancellor continued. "To rectify this situation you will withdraw from Freedom Fellowship University effective immediately. Your tuition will, of course, be refunded." She slid some papers in front of me. "I take it everyone knows who I am, ma'am, but who am I in the room with?" I inquired. "Sign the papers," insisted Doctor Bazz. "Can I think about this?" I inquired. "No," she answered. "Are you sure?" I persisted. "Yes," she snapped angrily. "Okay, then, I'm not signing," I decided. Everyone stirred restlessly. "You don't have a choice," one of the unnamed women in the room declared. "Security will hand you over to the Sheriff's Department as we remove you if you don't leave sensibly." "That sounds like a lawsuit," I noted. "You are mistaken, Mr. Braxton," the Chancellor glared. I noticed the unnamed woman farthest from me looked less than convinced; that made her the college's lawyer. "Chancellor, I have a deep respect for you and for the school you so expertly shepherd. I'm not out to embarrass this institution." I tried to relate to all of them. "The problem for you is that at no time in the registration process was I ever asked if I was male," I began my argument. "I entered my first name in as Glenn; your computer system transcribed that over to Glenda. At no time did I attempt to deceive the administration. I also can call forth witnesses from my dorm floor that will testify that I clearly didn't understand this was a woman's institution of higher learning." "You are being highly disruptive to the school and you've already been in one fight in your first four hours of school," another unnamed member announced. "Pardon me, but I don't know who you are," I asked the woman. "Dana Gorman, Head of Security and Dean of Athletics," she snipped. "Coach Dana, I was not aware that anyone was hurt and since I wasn't supplied my Handbook until yesterday afternoon when I went to my dorm room, I had no idea about the Handmaiden's Duty. I did find my roommate pinned to the ground with three girls sitting on her while she screamed and cried. I pushed/kicked them away and picked her up. I acted with charity and compassion," I put my best spin on the case as possible. "Doctor Josephine Sergeant, Dean of Sciences," the other unnamed woman introduced herself. "I'm not sure how I can fit you into my program, Mr. Braxton. The corpses Advanced Biology students work on are all female." "Doctor, I would imagine if I do become a doctor, I will have to work on women from time to time," I countered. "Mr. Braxton, nothing good can come of your intransience. Sign the papers, take the fall off, and find another school more fitting to your nature and gender," the Chancellor spoke. "I'll fight," I replied. We had a still moment, then Ms. Goodswell cleared her throat. "Zane, why do you want to stay?" "Short answer: this school has nine hundred women and one me; what's not to love? Long version: my inheritance is based on me being eighteen and in a college of my Aunt's choosing. It is too late for me to get into another program this year so if I don't fight, I go broke. I have nothing to lose." "Ms. Lane," the Chancellor addressed her lawyer, "is there any reason we can't escort Mr. Braxton to the gates right now?" The attractive young lawyer brushed a stray strand of her lovely light brown hair before responding. "There does seem to be a flaw in the administration software. There is no sexual differentiation key. Medical files were submitted as required and they clearly identify him as being male so there was no indication of evasion on his part, we missed it. FFU can expel him if he doesn't leave of his own accord but he definitely has a lawsuit against us." That gave people food for thought. It took Ms. Goodswell to save the day and I didn't really expect that. "Mr. Braxton, do you promise us to be an exemplary student if we allow you to stay out the semester?" "Of course," I promised. "Well, we can't keep him where he is," insisted Dana, shocked and angry. "We can keep him in his residence hall but place him in the Solarium. We can fix up something for him by tonight, and we have him cleared to use the fifth floor showers as schedules allow," Ms. Goodswell suggested. "The place is a mess," Dana grumbled. "I'll work to make it better as time allows," I volunteered. "Mr. Braxton, wait outside while we discuss this," commanded the Chancellor. I took my cue and left quickly. Christina and clique were sitting patiently waiting for me. She stood and made to leave. "I was told to wait here," I informed her, which brought the whole troop up short. "What are we waiting for?" Christina inquired. "Oh, I have them over a barrel so I insisted they assign one of you to be my bed warmer for the rest of the week. They are debating on which one of you gets the honor," I teased. "You bastard," spat Heaven, getting in my face. "You are a vomitus piece of filth!" "Just for that, you are next," I grinned devilishly at her. "Huh?" she looked far angrier than uncertain, "Next for what?" "Oh, during the upcoming sex orgy I host, you are 'Next'. See," I sighed dramatically, "I'm not likely to remember your name so when I call out 'Next,' I mean you." I had a split second to decide whether I'd duck or not. Training was screaming at me to half-step back while bringing up an arm to block but, Pow! I staggered back to the wall and slumped halfway down to the floor. Heaven kept coming and kicked me twice in the shin before Chastity and Christina pulled her off me. She was still sputtering and growling when the Chancellor's door opened up and Ms. Gorman stepped out and closed it behind her. "What is going on here?" she hissed. "There was a misunderstanding," Christina answered. "Actually, Heaven punched me after I deflected one of her insults," I countered. "Now I have to ponder civil litigation." "What?" Christina asked cautiously. Heaven was less diplomatic or restrained. "You provoked me," she accused me. "Do you know word one about my sexual habits? Could you prove a believable threat to you or someone around you? Barring that, you just committed assault," I informed Heaven. "You are willing to gamble we would betray Heaven to someone like you?" Faith threatened. "No," Dana answered for me. "I have little doubt that Mr. Braxton has noted that all classes and administration rooms have cameras." She seemed bitter about her own security procedures. The rest of the girl posse seemed equally unhappy except for, "Come on," Chastity told me as she offered me a hand up. I took it and quickly was upright once more so that we were chest to chest. "Please don't do this, Zane," she said evenly. Heaven scoffed. "Very well, Chastity, because it was you who requested it, but I do ask for one thing in return," I told her. "Of course he wants something," Heaven snarled sarcastically. "Actually, all I want is five minutes with Heaven," I explained, and when Heaven rolled her eyes and Chastity looked uncomfortable, I added, "no physical contact at all, only sitting down and talking." "She'll do it," Christina agreed. "No!" balked Heaven. "You'll do it or be expelled and face possible jail time," Ms. Gorman stated. "No," it was my turn to say. "I was joking; I won't press charges against Heaven." "She can still be expelled," Dana insisted. "For what?" I asked. Dana looked at me cautiously. "Hell, we were just fooling around; right ladies?" No one said anything because to speak was to court the sin of falsehoods. "Yes," said Christina, taking the plunge; the others nodded. Dana bored me into place with her gaze, weighing her options. "Keep it down out here," she snapped to the room, "especially you young ladies. I expected better from you four." The implication was that my cock exempted me from mature behavior. "Thank you," Chastity told me. "It took the grand total of one word, please," I explained. "I know it must be hard to believe but I'm not a total scumbag." "Are you still going to make me pay for insulting Rio?" Christina mocked. "The week isn't over yet," I pointed out. The resulting silence was interesting. Five minutes later the door opened and the women filed past. The second to last one out was the lawyer, Ms. Lane. "Mr. Braxton, we will have to get together to discuss some of your unique legal issues and liabilities next week," she informed me. "I await you at your leisure, Ms. Lane. Whatever you need, I'll do my best to comply," I smiled. "It will certainly be easier if you are compliant," she smiled back before turning and heading into the hallway, my eyes watching the line on her stockings going from where her skirt's hemline revealed her shapely thighs down her muscular calves to her four-inch heels. "Temptation comes in many forms," Ms. Goodswell said, interrupting me from the distraction of Ms. Lane's luscious posterior, a look that Ms. Lane caught as she smiled and turned out of sight. "In my admittedly limited experience, temptation is a result of dissatisfaction with one's circumstances, not a weakness of character," I offered as an explanation. "As your spiritual counselor, I feel it is my duty to keep you on the straight and narrow," Ms. Goodswell sighed with faux sufferance. "I don't mean to make things hard for you, Ms. Goodswell," I jibbed. "Enough sexual innuendo for the moment, Zane; you've been given an opportunity so don't blow it, don't disappoint me," Ms. Goodswell warned me while stabbing me in the chest with a well-manicured cherry gloss fingernail. I gave her a funny look. "What is it, Mr. Braxton?" she asked. "Oh, it is the fact that you are attempting the impossible, restoring my faith in organized Christianity, I answered while fishing for her name. "Virginia," Ms. Goodswell filled in the void of my unsubtle inquiry. "You are going to be trouble," she said, but her smile belied any worry on her part. "Well, I must get to lunch. I have a deserving Mistress who demands that I spoon-feed her," I told her as I moved to Christina and her cohorts. "Your room, seven o'clock, Zane. We'll be moving you to your new lodgings then," Virginia instructed. I nodded my acknowledgement then headed off to my late lunch. As we crossed campus, we remained relatively quiet until we approached the Dining Hall. "You remain intriguing, Mr. Braxton," Christina allowed. "I am equally drawn to you, you sanctimonious twat," I bantered back, and the girl posse jerked in response. "I hope they house you in a deep, dark hole," snapped Heaven. "I hope they do too," I beamed at Heaven, "and I hope you have the only key." "Why is that?" asked Chastity. "I'd let him starve to death," Heaven grinned viciously. I kept my eyes on Heaven. "Well, if Heaven had the key, she could come down and torture me whenever she wanted," I explained, and when Heaven licked her lips in anticipation, I added, "and she'd look so fetching in nothing but thin strips of black leather, high heels, and a whip in her hand as she scourged the sin out of me again and again, ." I licked my lips sensually at Heaven, "and again." Now all movement stopped; even the normally homicidal Heaven was caught up in the imagery (which she liked) and the other girls were wrapping their minds around the implications of either me on my knees, Heaven in leather, or us together. "You have a very sinful mind," accused Faith. "I have never denied that," I responded. "I'm a flawed creature in need of redemption, I admit that. Thankfully, I've chosen a religion based on forgiveness and second chances, then, eh?" Any further comments were interrupted by a girl running into me, more like almost running over me. "Zane! They didn't transubstantiate you into communion wafers," Rio squealed, showing more womanly affection than I would have given her credit for. Rio didn't do a great job of being 'surprised' when she noticed the girls around me. Heaven glared at Rio and I tried to shift myself between them but Christina intervened before anything happened. "Felon, I am in need of a stool to sit on; I'm tired," Christina said. As she used the word 'felon,' she smirked at me. Rio flinched too. "Wouldn't you rather have me lie on my back so you can sit on my face so I can get you off? That way we could both eat lunch," Rio sneered back. Christina didn't bite. "Make a seat, little felon," Christina smiled. I had a sudden desire to miss lunch. "I've got this, Zane," Rio told me as she touched my upper arm and pushed me toward the door. As I grudgingly walked away, I saw Rio get down on all fours on the grass and Christina take her seat. The best thing I could say about the situation was that Queen Christina didn't bounce up and down. Before I could come up with some rescue strategy, Iona corralled me and led me to the Handmaiden Mistress of the moment; Dove. Dove's food had grown cold and Iona had kept assuring her I was on my way so I set to my latest exercise in humility. Dove expected me to sit with her. I brushed her shoulder-length auburn hair aside and fed her mouthful after mouthful, using a napkin to tantalize her lips after every few bites, which Dove found enticing and the surrounding tables found romantic. I was getting the feeling that the girls were looking at this whole Handmaiden thing differently than I was. At three o'clock I made it to Soccer tryouts, forgetting one little gigantic complication, this was Christina's team. She and the coach decided that since they couldn't outright deny me the chance for a place on the team, they could make me target practice (aka goalie). I blocked eleven shots from established members of the team (they have Soccer/Football in Thailand) but number twelve got past me, I was off the team. At four came Archery tryouts and I was starting to feel the weight of being the true outsider here, and it got worse when I saw our Team Captain was Chastity Adams, aka Chastity of Team Christina. I turned to put my equipment up when Chastity called me over. "What are you doing, Zane?" "I've just finished having Christina use me as a crash test dummy," I admitted. "I figured I'd save us both some time so that you could concentrate your efforts on people who might actually have a chance to be on the team." "Zane, why don't you think I'd give you a chance?" Chastity asked quietly. "Will you give me a chance?" I wondered. "Not if you quit right now," she pointed out. So, I gave it a shot and I leaned that I sucked at archery, but clearly not as bad as most of the other girls so Chastity tapped me as a competitive alternate, which meant I was to carry equipment and practice a lot, the newbie. "Why did you do this, let me on the team?" I inquired after the team announcements. "You aren't half bad," she explained, then smiled and pointed out, "plus you will distract the other all-female teams." "Thanks for the chance, Chastity," I said as I shook her hand. "You are good-looking and funny, Zane, and the other girls will work harder so they can stick around you," she responded while looking at me intently. "Now go, you have another team to try out for." Sometimes I needed to be reminded that there are things a twenty-one-year-old could teach an eighteen-year-old. I barely made it to Karate tryouts (Marksmanship and Orientation were on Tuesdays and Thursdays). I didn't recognize our Team Leader but our coach was Dana Gorman, Head of Security. She eyed me with suspicion but it was nothing compared to the looks I got from the Team Sub-captain. I thought I recognized the face but I definitely recognized her ass and the hair weave, I'd put a foot in it when I kicked her off Rio, yeah me! I told them I knew some kick-boxing but Dana was not impressed so I was placed with the beginners group, which I proceeded to dominate utterly. Ten minutes of that and the Team Captain Wilhelmina Spellman put me in the second tier, where I went undefeated in our little sparing matches yet again. Willie wanted to put me on the first team but the girl whose ass I'd kicked vocally opposed her on it. Willie relented but only partially. After class, the sub-captain would judge my performance and get the final say if I was first-team material. I figured if I ripped out her still-beating heart and showed it to her, I had a fifty-fifty chance of making the squad. We squared off after the last girl left, the sub-Captain didn't want any witnesses. She was more skilled and had more emotional investment but I'd actually been in some real fights and was faster and stronger. As far as matches went, it was pretty intense. We went back and forth with no real advantage until she threw me by grabbing and tearing off my ghee. Before she could capitalize I got in a kick to her gut and when she unfolded, I head-butted her, causing her nose to bleed. I pulled up and she rubbed her nose and looked at the blood. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. Let me go get someone," I urged. "You hurt me," she muttered. "Lord Jesus Christ, you hurt me," she said angrily as I stepped forward. I was so overwhelmed with human compassion I didn't see the kick coming. I was dreaming of running errands to a close village which was something I got away with from time to time. It was a pleasant day if a little cold for daytime in the Thai uplands. The young widow I spent some time with was attending me and I was clearly lying back and enjoying some of our intimate foreplay. Her mouth felt warm and comforting on my little helmet, her tongue didn't twirl like it normally did, but I wasn't in Thailand anymore either. My jaw hurt but that was far less relevant than the pressure of the body I was feeling on my thighs, the warm, wet sensation around my cock, and the feel of hands on my shaft and stomach. I propped myself up and looked down at my crotch were our sub-captain looked up at me while keeping her bobbing rhythm going. "Stop," I ordered her. She reluctantly agreed, her eyes warring with anger, shame, and lust. I imagine she was wondering about what kind of academic hell I was about to bring down on her or if she could get away with crying rape as she pushed herself back and rested on her haunches. "Take off your clothes," I ordered next. That command staggered her but my gaze fixed her in place. "What are you going to do to me?" she said with a shaky voice. "I'm going to reciprocate what you've been doing to me. You gave me a great lesson and I want to return the favor, now strip." She thought about it a moment, then did a quick striptease which brought me to my knees. "What's your name?" I inquired as she finished. "Cappadocia Davis," she murmured as she met me at knee level. I started kissing her, drifting into chest contact and letting our hands roam free for several minutes. Cappy had a very passive-aggressive style and often mirrored what I did, all the signals of a confident virgin. Getting us down head to crotch took little effort as Cappy went back to administering her blowjob and I started working over her own sexual center. She only asked me to hurry once when I was spending time getting to know her thighs with delicate kisses. Though it was a bit rough, Cappadocia worked me furiously with strong hands, plump lips, and a fighter's stamina. On my end, I did all I could. I mapped out the pleasure lines along her thighs, across the groin, and farther along the stomach and sides, passing the breasts to the throat, ears and lips. Cappadocia expected a quick fuck and an equally quick departure. As it was, we missed dinner and I would almost be late for my room meeting. Before then, I explored Cappy fully. I kissed every ebony inch of her, from kneecap to navel; I took gentle tongue strokes to her lips, cunt, and especially the clit while not forgetting a little tantalization of her ass which drove her over the top to an orgasm by itself. Cappy was good enough to take my seed not once, but twice, though the first time she took most of it on her face. I sat there with two fingers stretching her lips apart while my tongue languidly worked on her labia and clitoris. I tickled the clit, sucking it with my lips, then blowing on it coolly. She learned how to swirl with her tongue once my cock was inside her mouth for a stronger sensation. Cappadocia liked a contest and we had the best of kinds; neither side won and a rematch was in order, definitely. "Cappadocia," I began as I was getting my outdoor clothes on, "I don't think I'm ready for first team yet." "Neither do I," she responded after a few moments of thought. "I'd like to keep training for it, though. I'm not going to give up trying, no matter how many private sessions it takes." "I have to agree, Zane. You are not yet ready and it is going to take a whole lot of private lessons to get you into 'first team' shape," she nodded. I left with a sore jaw but thinking good thoughts. I'd made two teams and had a shot at two others, as long as no one shot me or sent me to get lost in the wilds with a false map. The Solarium Why am I Living in a Glass House? I raced across campus to my dorm only to discover a sad looking girl in a short terry cloth robe sitting on the outside steps with a half-full trash bag. She perked up when she saw me. "Zane," she hailed me, "I want you to take out my trash." Okay, that seemed kind of lame to me because the dumpster was thirty feet away so I had to think quickly. "Umm," I looked her over. "Jolene," she provided. "Jolene, this doesn't seem quite fair," I pointed out, and I watched her deflate before me. "See," I said as I took her bag of trash and headed for the dumpster, her tagging along, "maybe I should come by your place tonight around nine thirty and clean up your room for you. Does that sound like a more appropriate Handmaiden's duty?" The little lights went off in her eyes. "Yes," she bobbed her head. "Yes, it sounds, amazing." Without telling me her room number, she skipped off through the doors and went off to do God knows what. I went looking for Iona who, as I guessed, hooked me up with the girl's location. Gliding into my room after that was less satisfying. "You are late, Mr. Braxton," Ms. Goodswell informed me. "Handmaiden's Duty," I countered. "We've moved all your furniture to the Solarium on the top floor," Dana rumbled. Solarium, top floor. Wasn't I on the top floor already? What was I getting into? That wasn't the most important thing at the moment, though. Rio sat on her bed, knees up, hugging a pillow and looking decidedly unhappy at the world. I turned to the two teachers and asked them for a minute with my old roomie. Dana grumbled but Virginia made her give us the space. "What's up, Rio?" I asked as I sat down at the foot of the bed. I knew what was wrong; I was abandoning her and I was not the first guy to do so. The only problem was, I wasn't those other guys. "Nothing's up, asshole," she shot back. "I'm looking forward to not having you snore all night long. Plus, I'll be able to shower whenever I want," she sniffled. "Oh, well, dealing with you has been a total pain in my ass too, Rio. It will be a relief to not have to wake up looking at you, your tattoos and all those body piercings," I stated evenly. "Hey, I don't have any piercings anymore," she pouted, hurt by the comment and its accuracy. "Well, I don't believe you, Rio. Sometime you will have to come up to the Solarium and show me just how wrong I am. I'll leave out a sleeping bag in case your city-bred ass gets lost and you can't figure out how to get back down after dark," I joked. "Zane, if they find you sleeping with a girl, you'll get expelled," Rio whispered. "Thank God you are not a girl, then, ya freak," I grinned so she hit me with her pillow. Rio was sneering at me playfully as I left; we were still friends. Outside my room, I'd picked up an old friend, Barbie Lynn Masters, and with Virginia, Dana, and Iona, we trekked to the fifth floor, then up to the roof. Now, when they were designing this kind of dorm in the nineteen seventies, the architect was on a 'Retro Victorian' kick. He envisioned a safe green haven for the girls to go to where they would be free to partake of nature's bounty without risking pesky urban menaces like rapists, thieves, and murderers. The Christian Elders liked the design so much, they transplanted it to the Virginia countryside. Of course, there aren't a lot of muggers in rural areas so the roof escapes weren't totally necessary or welcome by the student body and when the school built its twelve-foot-tall brick wall with security cameras around the entire facility, the need evaporated. Soon, all the Solariums were abandoned, the plants died, and not all the window panes were replaced. It was a pretty freaking miserable place at first glance and there was some suspicion that this was an indirect way to drive me out. But they clearly had avoided the Developing World and my long experience in it when thinking this through. I loved it. I had roughly eighty percent of the dorm building's floor space to play with. It would be a lot of work to fix it but I had been accidentally supplied with a ready and willing work force. Thank you, freshmen and Handmaiden's Duty, because amongst its other virtues, the Solarium was my room, and a freshman in a dorm room was immune to being summoned for Handmaiden Duty while in any such room unless required by a duty to go there. All I had to do was have Iona get the word out to our fellow freshman that my room was sanctuary and I was set. All that was tomorrow; tonight, I had a cold room with squirrels, maybe a raccoon or two, birds, spiders, roaches, and an assortment of other pests, plus my bed, dresser, and a wardrobe from the drama department. I had also secured the choice time of five forty-five to six as my bathroom time in the morning, and ten to ten-fifteen in the evening. How I would actually piss during the day was swept under the rug. Ms. Goodswell suggested I get a hall pass during class periods for safety's sake. College, hall pass, Did they think I should make up for missing high school? It was lights out in my domicile. The moon was waning and the sky was clear when I heard someone working the lock to my door at the bottom of the stairs. Five people had keys: I was one, Dana Gorman was another, Virginia Goodswell, and Chancellor Bazz were two others, but none of them, I suspected. I spotted the faint moonlight playing across golden locks as my intruder drew close. "Hey," Barbie Lynn whispered as she came to a stop by my bed. "I thought you might get cold so I brought you a quilt from storage." "You are a life-saver, Barbie; I'm freezing in here. Why don't you put the quilt over me and climb in so it will warm up here faster and we can both get to sleep sooner," I responded softly. It was a weak lie but it was really all Barbie needed; it was late summer in Virginia, after all. She spread out the quilt and started to get in. "Wait, you'll get your skirt wrinkled," I cautioned her before she sat down. She nodded and stripped out of it, then completed the process by stripping off her shirt, (no bra), socks, and shoes. As she snuggled up against me, she realized I was naked. "Oh, that doesn't seem fair," Barbie giggled, so she wiggled around under the covers and tossed out her undies. "That's better." I pulled her into my arms and I caught her stealing glances up at me as she pressed her hands against my chest. "We have all night," I assured her, and that earned me a kiss. "Oh, and I have your missing panties in my book bag, courtesy of Rio." I returned her kiss and soon we were wrapped around one another, engrossed in one another's erogenous zones (ear lobes, nipples, lips, and throats) as well as tempting fate with a little penal vaginal contact. After she wrestled me against the headboard and took my member deep into her mouth we had a little session of 'try doing this and watch him squirm' until I finally lost control and erupted several times into her mouth. "Umm, Barbie Lynn murmured as she rolled some semen over her tongue, eyes lighting up as I smiled at her talent. "Jesus bless me, you taste nearly as good as you look. I want more!" "Next time we can swap cum," I suggested to her. Barbie wrinkled her nose. "Doesn't that make you a homo?" she questioned. I forgave her ignorance due to cuteness. "You've tasted your juices on my lips but you are not a lesbian," I pointed out. After a moment she nodded so I continued with, "all I want to do is taste it on your tongue, not someone else's on my tongue." Telling her I'd given more than one blowjob didn't appear to be helpful at this time; I'm decidedly not heterosexual. "Oh, you're pretty smart for someone so young," she smiled seductively. I cupped her face in one hand. "I may be young and smart, but you are far more beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful, than me and one heck of a teacher because you keep me wanting to learn more," I heartily complimented her. I must have struck a chord because Barbie Lynn glowed from the inside out and virtually poured like tanned molten gold into my lap. "Fuck me," she begged with sensual need. "What about your Pledge?" I questioned. "Fuck my ass," she moaned, "it's not really cheating." Yeah, right. "Okay, Barbie Lynn, but teaching you to like it isn't easy. I'm going to have to break you in all night long," I warned her, but all I got was a violent trembling of anticipation which caused her to make my lap damp and my cock rebound to duty. We kissed deeply and with longing for over a minute, Barbie rocking in my lap, her labia brushing my cockhead. "Is it going to hurt?" she panted into my lips. "Yes. The first time you are going to scream, but I promise you I'll show you how good it can be," I assured her. She gulped in fear but smiled with wanton lust in her eyes. I played with her cunt and my cock, doing tiny penetrations until Barbie lost it in a screaming, ear-splitting orgasm, "God loves me, God loves me, God Loves ME!!!!" She followed that up by collapsing against me and burying my face in her ample bosom. I couldn't help myself; I took an overly sensitive nipple into my lips. "Oh, oh, oh, baby, that hurts; that hur, she whispered hoarsely until I relented. That didn't stop her from hugging me tightly to her chest though. "Barbie Lynn, go over to my kit and get the Vaseline," I ordered her after a bit. "Why do I have to do it?" she teased me. "I love to watch your ass wiggle when you leave and the way your bare breasts bounce when you come back," I confessed. Once more she came on with this deep kiss and a winning smile, then she did as I asked and the view was definitely as delicious as I'd hoped. She quickly resumed her position over me, shimmying to the point I was afraid I'd actually press my cock too far into her cunt. Barbie was biting her lip while we played with her virginal fire; I knew I had to do something and that was to pop the top of the lubricant and rub two fingers deep into her back door. "Here we go," I cautioned her, "I'll be slow and gentle. We are taking our time so don't worry about tensing up, I'll deal." She gave me a nod, then went back to tempting fate. I was finding more and more to lust over with Barbie. When my right index finger brushed her pink star, she didn't flinch one bit. She kept her rotation going and I slipped in a finger without much protest or resistance. I let this finger slip in and out for a minute, sinking in deeper every few thrusts. To distract her, I moved my left hand between us and slipped two fingers into her cunt. That, along with the touch of my cock, got her off. Barbie bounced harder so I was forced to put a third finger in the way of my cock penetrating her, plus I pressed the knuckle of my thumb against her clit. For a second Barbie Lynn seemed at a loss of what to do, but one look at my parted lips, panting from the excitement, convinced her to feed one magnificent nipple into my mouth while she played with the other one before my eyes. She teased me so I stuck a second finger up her ass. Barbie bucked and moaned but if she was in any pain, she hid it well. "Do you want to know something?" she struggled to say, hovering over me. I nodded. "It took a grand total of seven minutes for the last two boys I was with to cum all over my tits. I don't know how long we've been going at it but Lord Almighty, I'm so happy I was given this dorm. This is going to be the best year ever." "I'm working on it," I gasped as I twitched and pushed my fingers around. "I'm glad you are my Dorm Mother." "Oh, oh, oh, oh, the other girls are so jealous that I have you," she panted. "They wanted to know what it would take to steal you away." "I hope you understand that I want to stay here with you," I groaned. Barbie Lynn stopped moving for a moment, accepting me and my honest desire. "Put it in," she begged. "It will hurt," I assured her. "I don't care," she looked at me hungrily. I pulled my hand out of her cunt and rolled her to my side while still keeping my other fingers pumping in her ass. Maneuvering around so that I had her head on my pillow and ass sticking up took some thought. I pushed a third finger in quickly. Barbie gasped audibly, pulled away instinctively, then caught herself and pushed back against my hand. She whimpered and choked back a sob. I withdrew my fingers and covered my cock with some hastily scooped glob of Vaseline. Barbie looked back to me in quivering anticipation. Before she spoke I lined my cock up with her anus and started pushing. Barbie Lynn shut her eyes, bit her lower lip and smiled lustfully. "Oh!" she groaned, as I slipped past her anal ring. I knew enough to hesitate before the next push, then the next. "Please," she whimpered. I stopped moving. "Please give me all of it," she completed. "Don't hold back." I pushed harder not waiting for her to adjust. "Ah!" she cried out. I stopped and she responded with a, "No, no, no, Zane, please don't stop." "I don't want to hurt you," I groaned. "It hurts a lot but I like that you are the one doing it to me. Please, I want you inside of me, all the way in," she whimpered. I pushed all the way in steadily until my crotch pushed her scrumptious ass cheeks apart. As I rested for a moment, I felt Barbie Lynn's fingers reach between her legs and start to massage my balls. I pulled back while she moaned loudly, her cries echoing throughout the massive glass covered chamber. Despite the low lamplight around my bed, I realized now that we could be seen from the solariums on the roofs of the other dorms. There wasn't much I could, or would, do about that now. I started a slowly intensifying pace in and out of Barbie's ass and she met me with the thrust of her hips and a sensual moaning from her throat. I could tell she was pushing one set of fingers into her snatch while the other worked over her clit. Once we were in total symmetry I slapped her playfully on one ass cheek. "Oh, God, Zane, do it again. I've been bad," was Barbie's lusty declaration. I smacked down across the other cheek. "Harder, Zane, I've been really bad." Another spank and, "I've been much worse than that," she panted. SMACK! and a yelp. "That's it!" she gasped. I kept up the spanking and each blow made her anal muscles contract, virtually grabbing and twisting my cock inside her. "Ah, Jesus Loves Me!!!!" Barbie Lynn squealed as her strongest orgasm to date overwhelmed her and then me. I'd never felt that kind of empathy with another lover like I was feeling with this blonde enchantress. Barbie bucked up against me, slamming her ass against my crotch with painful ferocity as my seed plunged into the depths of her bowels. Barbie Lynn, now virtually sitting in my lap, crested orgasm after orgasm as the heat of each burst of my semen burned new pathways of ecstasy inside her rectum. "Oh, oh, oh, oh," she stammered as her fluids flowed down our legs in a slow steady stream. "Please, Zane , " "Yes?" I panted. "Promise me, promise me we'll do this again," she gasped as she now pressed her sweat-slick back against my upper body. "Again," I thrust into her, "and again, and again," I promised. Barbie Lynn put one hand around to the back of my neck and the other, leaning forward. She drew me into her and we slowly arched forward until the weight of our bodies tumbled us to the bed. Barbie's outstretched arm touched the mattress first and absorbed most of our momentum. Still, I ended up pressing on her and I soon propped myself up so my weight wouldn't suffocate her. As I stationed myself there, panting along with her from our mutual exhaustion, Barbie rolled over so that we were once more face to face. She had this beatific happiness about her that I doubt I'll ever forget. "I, I was afraid I'd regret this, and you," she grinned lazily. "Do you?" I questioned. "Yes. I regret I didn't take you back to my room and do this yesterday. I regret that we have to go to early classes tomorrow. I regret having to share you with nine hundred other women. And I regret you weren't here with me two years ago," she murmured heartily. "I'm going to sit here and bask in my over-stuffed sense of accomplishment," I faux-gloated. "You do a guy's ego good." "Speaking of over-stuffed, can I please, please have one more, please?" she begged playfully. "You are my Dorm Mother and I really should try to keep you happy, so, I related with feigned reluctance. "That's right," she giggled, "you really need to keep me happy. Please show me how you plan to do that." After another serious exploration of our sexuality, Barbie Lynn curled up against my chest, making this deep cat-like rumbling noise. "Do you always talk to Christina over breakfast?" I inquired. "Yes, I always do. If she asks about you, I, I'm going to tell her the truth," she answered. I didn't ask what that would be so she did. "Aren't you worried about what I will say?" "No. I trust you, Barbie. You'll tell her what you need to tell her; truth, lie, or evasion, it is all your business, not mine," I explained. "Well, I'm going to tell her in every minute detail what you did with, to, and for me tonight, and I promise you she's going to race back and change her panties," she sighed happily. From a morning shower to a Heavenly night. Sharing Umbrellas Tuesday: My schedule which the Chancellor had been set in stone, had me in sole custody of the fifth-floor bathroom from five forty-five until six, so I was grateful that only six girls were waiting for me when I arrived. At some level I was sure they expected me to say something and I was pretty sure they hadn't really articulated what they wanted. I said nothing and edged past them. The bravest one, Opal, followed quickly after me, though I had that special moment of taking off my robe in front of her as I readied for my shower. Somehow the blood of Homer's Amazons had entered this school's student body because Opal met my bluff with her buff (body) and crawled under her own water stream once the water was steamy. As I started washing my hair, I caught sight of another girl moving in on my far side. I did my best to remain nonchalant and managed to get my hair clean before they made their move. "Zane," Opal asked innocently, "would you wash my back?" I smiled, nodded, and took the bottle of liquid soap from her hands. I poured some into my palms before placing the bottle on the closest shelf. I started rubbing it onto her shoulders and down her back. The placement of our bodies was complicated by my emergent erection. I worked my way down her back until I touched, then parted and cupped, her ass. I pressed my body against her back with my cock taking a few moments decide on whether it would go up, in, or in between. Finally it slipped up until my cock rested warmly on her back. Opal was totally overtaken by events and simply stood there as I slowly rubbed my body up and down against her back. She looked over her shoulder speculatively as I reached past her for more liquid soap and poured some into my hand. Bottle put aside, I shared the soap with the off-hand before starting to rub down the front of her shoulders. "Put your hands behind your back," I whispered into Opal's ear. She was initially hesitant, then started putting them behind her back where she brushed against my cock, and again before she wrapped her hands around it and began slowly stroking it with a soapy grip. While she was working on my morning wood I made slow circles down to her breasts. Her nipples came alive under my fingertips. I first coaxed them, then plucked them, and finally pinched them tightly as I handled the rest of her breasts roughly. Opal began panting, moaning, and undulating her whole body against mine. I couldn't stop myself from kissing her on the crux of her jaw and neck. "Oh, Oh, Oh, Opal began to gasp. I felt her body start to tremble under my touch so I hunted for that most sensitive place with my tongue and bit into that spot on her neck sharply. Opal slammed hard into me, bouncing up and down on her toes like some sudsy, hot vibrator against my cock, if only I had the time. "Ah, she sobbed in joy. Even after the orgasm settled, Opal kept gyrating against me. "This wasn't what I had in mind," Opal moaned. Whoops! "My apology," I told her, and started separating from her, but she held firm. "Oh, no, you don't. Maybe you misunderstood me. This was more, much more than I expected. I'm glad you are superior to your hype. Can we do this tomorrow morning?" "Hmm, how about we see what comes up then?" I evaded. As I backed away, the girl on the other side held out her soap bottle expectantly. "Sorry, but I need to get out of here before girls, other girls show up," I explained to her. "Brigit; my name is Brigit," she filled me in. "Can we do, that, tomorrow?" By 'that,' I assume she meant my version of the soapy body rub. "Okay," I said, "how about calling Iona and figuring out how you ladies want to handle my shower visits, though I would like to point out the Administration believes I'm in here alone." "Do you want us to stay away?" Opal asked cautiously. "Opal, Brigit, I would rather go through life minus one testicle than miss spending time with any of you ladies but I don't want anyone unwittingly getting into trouble because of me," I answered. "Since you need to be going," Opal teased, "let me help." "I'll help too," Brigit insisted. I'm going to be a while deciding exactly how I rate being shaved by one girl while getting a blowjob from another at the same time. My facial expression caused Rio to laugh at me as I came back down to answer the door. It was around six thirty and I had only recently gotten back and put my school uniform on. "Either you've been hit by the world's softest two by four or you've already had sex at least once this morning," she chuckled. "Hey, Rio, Iona, come on in. It isn't like I could stop you," I joked. "So, did you take her temperature, kick up her heels, or give her an attitude adjustment?" Rio teased as we headed up. Iona looked confused and expected me to be either equally confused or give her an explanation. I was confused, which made Rio laugh louder. "Taking her temperature equals blowjob; kicking up the heels is straight-up fucking, and attitude adjustment is anal sex, jeesh, people," Rio berated us. Once we came to my island of civilization in the wilderness of the Solarium, Iona looked around curiously; this may have been the first men's bedroom she'd ever seen. Rio walked over to my bed, was about to plop down in it, then studied it for a second and gawked at me. "Damn, Zane, what happened last night? How many girls did you have up here?" she grinned maniacally. I sighed and rolled my eyes. "One," I admitted. "How did you know?" "Peach lip gloss and teeth marks on the pillow, several sets, so, You Go Boy!" she explained. "Plus, your bed smells of Vaseline, baby oil, sweat, Secret deodorant, and a good deal of fuck juice, the female variety. Then there is the matter of, she drew forth a long blonde hair, "you not being blonde." "This was not on the list!" squawked Iona. "Lip gloss, teeth marks?" "That means he fucked her ass long and hard, Iona," Rio explained to her far less experienced classmate, "and she came back for more, and more." Iona stole a look my way, hoping I'd deny everything, but I made eye contact with her and nodded. She looked disappointed in me, which oddly made me feel bad inside. "Snap out of it, Iona," Rio snorted. Iona still looked hurt. "What is more likely, Zane went trolling the lower levels for a girl to sex up, or a girl snuck up here and jumped him in his bed?" "Oh," Iona gasped, now more pleased. Apparently, me being nearly raped in my own bed was okay with her. From my point of view, I can try to understand women or I can appreciate them for what they willingly offer me. If a woman wants me to treat her like a Sphinx, I'll leap at the challenge. One day I'm sure I'll find a woman not worth this kind of effort but I'm not there yet. I had finished getting dressed and was making toward the stairs when the door at the bottom opened and Barbie Lynn came bounding up. She took in my two companions without missing her stride before bouncing up to me. "Hey, Zane," she purred. "I wanted to make sure you hadn't overslept." "Thanks, I appreciate the concern, but I slept great last night. Waking up feeling that good is always a pleasure. How did you sleep?" I responded. "I tossed and turned," she pouted. "I was missing something I couldn't put my hands on. If I can't figure out what that is I'll be up pacing the halls well past midnight tonight." Rio stepped behind Barbie and made a gagging motion. "So, Barbie Lynn," Rio requested, "do you have any lip gloss I could use?" Barbie turned around and pulled a micro-jar that she handed to Rio. "Umm, peach flavored," Rio revealed vindictively. At some point I am sure Rio will show restraint; my challenge now is living long enough to see it. Rio spanked Barbie Lynn hard on the ass and the Dorm Mother yelped in surprise and pain. "Ow," gasped Barbie Lynn, glaring at Rio. I moved an arm around Barbie and pulled her close, a gesture she comfortably molded into. "I'm sorry," Rio snickered, "but you have such a wonderful posterior BLT, I know it is a sin if no one appreciates it." "BLT?" I cautioned Rio, and by that I intoned that the next spanking was likely going to be administered to her by me. "Barbie Lynn Tease," Rio grinned, daring me to step up. As I handed my book bag to Iona, Rio squealed in delight and raced down the stairs. I was right behind her and I would have undoubtedly caught and punished her on the fifth floor if not for one thing. "Zane, I'm here for your breakfast duty," a sophomore I was to learn was named Emanuela commanded, Handmaiden's Duty. Technically she should wait until I was outside, but, eh. They nailed Rio seconds before she could turn and gloat at me. "Front or back?" I politely requested of Emanuela, who was thankfully on my schedule. "Front or back?" she wondered. "Do you want me to carry you like this?" I asked, as I swept her up in my arms. She was light enough, including book bag, for me to make it to the Dining Hall without too much effort. "What is back?" she gasped. "Piggyback," I explained. "Oh. I like this way much better," she informed me. I started making my way through the crowd when I caught sight of Barbie Lynn and Iona coming down the stairs. Seeing my situation, Barbie put an arm around Iona and whispered something to her. Iona was already carrying my books and I had the feeling that Barbie knew I liked Iona so she was going to look after the small freshman for me. Breakfast came and went and I found myself cornered and 'forced' to escort another girl to Assembly. She asked me if I'd prefer being covered with whipped cream or honey. I reminded her that whipped cream was cold but honey left a sticky residue, I suggested trying icing. At Assembly, the heavens broke and a hard rain set in as we got ready to disperse. The problem came when it was realized that many girls hadn't packed an umbrella. The answer for most was to take an umbrella from a freshman, which I found unsatisfactory. I had a sudden burst of insight as the first freshmen girls paled at the thought of being soaked through to the bone. I grabbed Iona and then made a beeline for Christina. None of what followed would have been possible without the understanding of a girl I didn't know, Pandora Jaspers. Her plan was for me to take my umbrella and cover us both as we went to class, but when I told her 'I have a plan,' she nodded and went along for the ride. Certainly we were a strange group that approached Christina Buchanan. "Yes?" questioned Christina with her bemused expression as I came to a halt before her and her court. Chastity smiled, Heaven seethed, Faith looked uncertain, and the fifth girl was a cipher. "I think I can do something about this rain," I said urgently. Christina didn't laugh but I had a feeling Pandora wanted to strangle me. "Go on," Christina commanded. "We make a covered walkway of umbrellas, held by freshmen, to protect everyone go

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 1 When Glen Zane Braxton is accidentally accepted into a fundamentalist women s college. In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels. Leading up to the first day of college. Every old trick was invented by someone once upon a time. A Little Background: Hi. My name is Glenn Zane Braxton but everyone calls me Zane. I'm a good-looking (or so I'm told) athletic kid just over six feet tall and just under two hundred pounds. I get my Nordic looks from my Mom who hails from Norway. I apparently get my optimistic attitude and loose moral structure from my Dad, though I was to learn that Mom was a bit freaky too. My parents were killed in a rock climbing accident when I was fifteen so I was sent to live with my Uncle Tim (Dad's younger brother) and Aunt Jill. Unfortunately for me, while my parents had been rich hedonists, Tim and Jill were fundamentalist Christians doing missionary work in northern Thailand. I spent the next two-and-a-half years in a place where a paved road was a luxury. I have nothing against Christianity; I consider myself a decent Christian but I believe my faith stops at the next person's 'I'm not interested'. My aunt and uncle were a very different breed. They believed that it was every Christian's duty to convert our little brown brothers and sisters (no shit, this is what Tim told me) whether they wanted it or not. Needless to say, I witnessed them busting their self-righteous heads against the faith and traditions of these ancient people they'd come to 'help enlighten,' while I learned all about Thai culture, cuisine, and kick-boxing. I learned that spending time with Thai women was a hell of a way to get another kind of education too. On the down side, Tim beat me whenever he found out about the women. To get back at him, I spent time with Buddhist monks - score one for the Zen! Three months ago there was an incredibly brutal monsoon and something possessed Tim to go down to the river to save people. Since every sane individual was running away from the river, I pleaded that we go with the people that actually knew what was going on. Instead, I ended up with my Aunt and Uncle hip deep in the muddy water when an uprooted tree hit Tim and Jill. Like a fool I jumped into the flood waters after them. I got to Jill - Tim was a goner. Afterwards, when I realized that no Tim meant a return to the States, I was not crying tears of joy - that would have been cruel. After they gave up the search for Tim, Jill and I returned to Western Civilization. Jill surprised me by actually having a college degree that was useful and she got a job in Virginia working as an insurance adjuster for a nice sized company. I had completed my high school credits online back in Thailand and passed my college entrance exam so I was looking forward to partying it up somewhere far away from Jill. Fate has a funny way of laughing at me, though. For some byzantine reason, Dad set up my trust fund so that I would get a fraction of my inheritance when I turned eighteen, as long as I was in an institution of higher learning approved of by Tim and Jill - now just Jill. Otherwise, I had to wait until I was twenty-one. I wanted to go to the University of Hawaii Jill found a nice little place close to what she called home, real close. Speaking of home; our living arrangements were courtesy of Tim's generous insurance policy and his own little share of Dad's family's money. She bought us an expansive two-story spread with nice large yards, front and back, right where the countryside hits the suburbs. I wished we had a pool and even offered to dip into my own funds to have one put in but since pools were 'cesspits of depravity' Jill nixed the notion. Getting a car was also an interesting discussion. Jill said 'no way' and wouldn't budge until we noticed that our neighbors were two nice looking ladies in their twenties (I guessed). On the day we moved in I went over to talk (I'm drawn to women like a comet to the Sun) and spent over an hour getting to know them. There were two big pluses about their place; one was the large pool in back, which the girls (there turned out to be more than two) promised I could use whenever I wanted, real nice of them. The other one was, When I got home I told Jill not to worry about the car; the cute lesbian couple offered to pick me up from school whenever I needed a ride. "Are they atheists?" Jill gasped. Apparently them being homosexuals wasn't enough? "Nah, they are Wiccans," I lied again with a smile. We went car shopping the next day. I figured I would tell Jill we lived next to a sorority house (to the other university in town) at some later date. What Not to Wear Moving in turned out to be half the battle for my life at the new house. Next came the clothing war. Personally, I think I look great naked and do wonderful with people of the female persuasion but in Virginia they arrest you for this. Since I only have a twenty percent chance of being taken in by a female police officer (or the five percent of the male officers who are out and-out homosexuals), I'm going to go to jail if I go around nude. My solution was to look around the local teenage hangouts, websites, and social networks to get me a style that would be both individualistic yet fit in. Aunt Jill was of the opinion that my school uniform (see below) would be my normal look. When I told her I'd use my own money to get what I wanted she threatened to throw them out because I was still living under her roof. I got pissed off and since my outlet options were pretty limited, I stupidly went to my room and did what every teenage boy should never do when their female guardian is at home - maybe I have malaria and the fever was clouding my thought processes. In Thailand I would simply go out into the jungle Jill never went out into the wilderness if she could help it. There was no jungle and Jill knew right where my room was, and since it was her house, she barged right in. Half way through giving me a piece of her mind Jill noticed me, the Vaseline, the box of Kleenex, and what my hand was pumping. I yanked the comforter on my bed, trying to cover myself, which resulted in my flipping off the bed (I was sitting on the comforter) and rolling to Jill's feet. Jill stood there with her mouth wide open, eyes glued to my cock. I stopped pumping but my rod wouldn't go down despite my shame, not of my erection but because I didn't like sexually taunting a recent widow. "That's, that's disgusting," she gasped while still fixated on my erection. I wiggled around so that I could pull up my underwear and slacks. Once my cock was under cover Jill started harping on me. "You vile pervert," she seethed. "What is the meaning of you showing your, thing to me? You are filthy. Wash your sheets then wash your hands then never do this again." "Um, Jill, Aunt Jill, I'm an eighteen-year-old male. I need to masturbate," I informed her. "Not in this house," she said shrilly. I grabbed the tissues and Vaseline, then headed for the door. "Where are you going?" she worried. "Into the woods out back," I answered as I tried to move past her. "I kind of need to finish this." "You will do no such thing," Jill gasped as she grabbed my arm, "you might be seen, and it's wrong." First priority for Jill was social appearances while my spiritual well-being was somewhat less important at that moment. "Jill," I cautioned her, "I really need to knock one out. I'm stressed." Jill grabbed the Vaseline and tissues from my hands, not because she was stronger but because in my own twisted way, I still acknowledged Jill as my authority figure; not much of one, but one nonetheless. Ripping them away from her wasn't an option so, "Jill, you are my only parent now. I need to come to you about, things sexual," I suggested. "No," Jill responded with some shock. "There will be no sex in this house. You will have sex when you are married and not before, ever. Even then, sex is only for procreation." "Jill, I'm not a virgin," I informed her. Her jaw dropped but I'm not sure if it was shock, horror, or something else. "You've had sex with a girl?" she whispered. "Aunt Jill, I had twenty girlfriends back at the mission," I related. "Did, Did Tim know? How did it happen? When did you do it?" she stammered. "Tim knew; that is why he kept beating my ass. "It happened simply enough; we would be bathing down at the river and if we liked what we'd seen and if things clicked, we'd go fool around. Sometimes we'd kiss and touch and sometimes we'd have sex; you know, blowjobs, cunnilingus, vaginal and anal sex," I continued. "Gack, ah, oh, God preserve me," Jill sputtered. "As for when, the best time was right after Bible study when you and Tim were preoccupied with the parents and us kids could sneak off to a house and fool around in the common room, and then couples would pair up and have sex in the bedrooms," I finished. "Oh, poor Tim," Jill moaned as she slumped against the door sill. "Can I have my stuff and go now?" I asked softly. "No," she snapped. We kind of stood there for a minute before she asked, "Were you sneaking peeks of me at the river?" "Umm," I half turned away, "yeah, I did." Jill looked offended. "You are very sexy, Jill," I attempted to mollify her. It didn't work. "You pervert, you freak, that's incest. It is against God's Laws!" she screamed at me. "Jill, we are not blood related, and I never said I actually wanted to sleep with you, only that you have a very nice body," I countered calmly. "Shut up! Stop talking," she shouted, before storming off, leaving me even more frustrated. An hour later Jill sent me out to get some pizza but when I got back she wasn't in the house, though her car was still in the garage. I smelled smoke and followed the scent out into the backyard. I saw what Jill was doing; she didn't need to tell me what she was up to but she did it anyway. "I think we need to put your misspent time in Thailand behind you," she announced, "so I've decided it is best to get rid of all the clothes, books, and statues you brought back." "You should have asked me," I stated. Of course, this meant War. "You are awash in sin, Zane," she answered in this twisted, loving tone. I turned and went in the house. What had that monk said to me when I'd discussed my relationship with Tim and Jill? One does not build a house of stone out of grass Which he suggested meant petty payback satisfies little and is soon gone, but real revenge comes from working permanent change on your opponent. Over the next four days I ordered a secure chest online, withdrew my bank limit each day, and started taking a pitcher of grape juice to my room at bedtime (it will make sense in a moment). I decided to start my plan Sunday night. Stage One: after Jill has gone to bed, fill her car up with gas and report all her credit cards and bank card stolen. We have plenty of food in the kitchen and Jill takes her lunch to work so with the car full of gas she won't immediately notice her cards are useless tomorrow. Also withdraw yet another five hundred dollars with my bank card, which is the daily limit. Stage Two: Once Jill has gone to work, I put three of her Sunday's Best into the steel chest, to which I have the only combination. Burn every piece of ultra-conservative matronly-wear, from underwear to bathrobes to jackets. Now that mid-morning has come, I head over to the Sorority House and enlist the aid of my two new friends, Leigh and Corrie. We go clothes shopping with the money I've saved up. Each 'sister' gets one thing (for services rendered) and the rest of the money we dump on getting Jill everything a sexually confident and active twenty-something would wear (Jill's only thirty) as well as getting me some normal clothes. I'm not going to attempt to make Jill dress like a hooker; that would never work. Jill's been warped by her narrow-minded environment for all of her three decades so making her more tolerant is going to take time. Stage Three: As we are heading to the bedrooms that evening I 'accidently' bump into Jill and soak her with a pitcher of grape juice she now knows I'm taking to my room on a regular basis. Grape juice doesn't come out and a pitcher will soak her down to her underwear and bra. "Sorry, Aunt Jill," I blathered. "Oh, Zane, this dress is totally ruined. I should make you pay to replace it," she sounded cross. "Consider it done," I offered. Technically, I'd already bought her a new one. Jill went into the bathroom muttering Leviticus before tossing me a roll of paper towels to clean up the spilled juice. "Zane?" Jill called from the bathroom with a hint of concern. "Yes?" I responded from the hallway. "Where is my bathrobe?" she inquired. "In the laundry," I lied. I hear her putter around for a few seconds, then, "Go to your room and shut the door," she ordered me. I got up and made a point of noisily shutting my door. Half a minute later the bathroom door squeaked open and I heard Jill pad quietly to her room and shut the door. I opened my door and sprinted to the bathroom. I retrieved her clothes from the hamper and tossed them in the sink, got the carefully secreted lighter fluid from underneath, doused them, and tossed in a lit match. At the same time as I'm doing this, I heard Jill slamming dresser drawers open and shut. "ZANE!" Boy, what have you done?" Jill shouted from her room. I raced out of the bathroom (on purpose) at the same time Jill burst out of her room so we were basically five feet apart when Jill remembered that she was naked; I was barefoot in pajama bottoms. Jill's look was priceless as she realized that the number of men who'd seen her totally naked since she hit puberty had just doubled. She spun around and bolted into her room, door slamming shut once more. It took her a few moments to form a plan. "Zane, go to your room and shut the door," she growled with a tad more control. "Sure thing." I grinned as I walked to my room, shut the door, and leaned against it waiting for what I knew would unfold next. Sure enough, Jill raced to the bathroom. "Zane, where is my dress?" "In the sink," I told her. Three, two, one. "ZANE! What have you done!" she screamed once more. "My bra, my underwear, my hose, she sobbed. "Jane, you have a robe in your closet. If you want, put it on and come to my room so we can talk this over," I suggested. I didn't hear anything for fifteen minutes as I waited on my bed. Finally, the door swung open slowly and Jill took a half step into my room. Her eyes were downcast in shame but her voice was full of hurt and anger. In her mind there was no possible reason for me to have done this. She was pulling off the Hurt Little Girl bit really well with her mid-thigh crimson satin robe and her wavy, deep-red hair flowing loosely over her shoulders and down her back. "I can't believe you picked this out for me to wear, Zane. Now where are my clothes?" she ground out. "Jill, you look good in that, really good, but I didn't pick it out for you. I had our next-door neighbors do that because you are all beautiful young women," I explained. "If you tell me what color you are wearing, I'll tell you where your clothes are." Jill stood stock still as she worked out that I was talking about her panties. "Blue, the deep blue ones, with the black, lace," she whispered. "Not the white?" I had to ask since I would have guessed this was the first pair of non-white panties she'd ever worn. Her constricted mind had expanded a tiny bit. "The white ones were nearly see-through," she answered after a second. I had to agree with that. "I put your clothes exactly where you put all the stuff I brought back from Thailand," I answered. It took a moment for that to sink in. Her burning green eyes popped up in shock. "What am I going to wear to work tomorrow?" she wailed. "I'll tell you if you agree to one request I have for you," I replied with compassion. "Fine," she hiccupped. She was so body conscious that she wasn't really thinking about the implications of what she was saying but I believed she would still honor her word. "I want you to wear your hair down all day tomorrow, or in a ponytail, but that's it," I ordered. Jill looked at me truly confused; she always wore it in a bun. "But why?" she questioned. "I don't understand." "Your hair is beautiful when it is down, Aunt Jill. I figure it wouldn't kill you to try a new look," I answered. Again, she didn't understand but I was okay with that, and getting her clothes out of the closet was part of the deal. I pulled out bag after bag and set them on the bed. Jill stepped up during the process and pulled various articles of clothing out, utterly flummoxed with what she was discovering. This wasn't slut-wear but it would definitely show more of her curves and skin than she would have ever normally considered. When I finished bringing bags out she looked past me, expecting more. "I can't wear any of this," she declared. "Please tell me you didn't really destroy my clothes." "Jill, I did burn up most of your clothes and you can wear what I bought you. You are thirty, not sixty-five. When I jumped into that river, God decided that I rescued you and not Tim, and I can't believe I saved you so you could go right back to the same life you had before," I interpreted what might have been true, God doesn't talk to me. "What did I do to deserve this, Zane?" she pleaded. "You burned up all my stuff from Thailand, Jill. And while you might think of this as revenge, it's not. You may not see it this way now but one day, I hope you will understand that I love you," I told her. "Zane, I don't understand. What you did was evil, despicable, and wicked and I won't tolerate it. We should pray to God, me for guidance and you for forgiveness," she pouted. She made to kneel down at my bedside so I followed out of long practice. We clasped our hands in prayer and while Jill closed her eyes, mine remained open. Now, my bed is not even at knee level so when Jill knelt down to pray, leaning forward until her elbows were on the mattress, she inadvertently thrust her ass backwards, yes, Jill was doggy style on my bed. I had abstractly known Jill was attractive but the thought of having sex with her had never come up. What was now 'coming up' was suddenly a problem, as were my attempts to keep up with exactly what Jill was asking God for, but the gist of it seemed to involve the Almighty taking steel wool to my corrupt soul, the harder and more painful the scrubbing, the better. "Amen," we said in unison as the thirty-seven minute ordeal came to an end and Jill stood up. "Jesus has told me that I only have to put up with your dementia until morning. I'd rather get new clothes instead of showing up to work, as some strumpet," she proclaimed. "Um, where did you come up with the word 'strumpet' and who ever said it was a sin to be good looking?" I asked. "Nothing I got for you suggests sexuality, no push-up bras, crop tops, or slit skirts. They're clothes, nothing more." "It doesn't matter what you think," Jill countered. "Whatever madness you thought you were accomplishing won't work. I really should call the pastor." "And tell him what, that I burned your clothes and bought you, normal clothes? Why don't we call everyone on the church roster?" I warned her. Jill balked at the prospect of having our family feud exposed. Jill sniffed, spun, and started to leave the room when she recalled the clothes I'd bought for her. She huffed and came back for them, looking at me very indignantly. When I went to help, she warned me off with a hateful glare. An hour later, as I began to despair over my actions, I heard Jill's bedroom door open and a crinkly crunch in the hall. Upon examination, I found one of the bags I'd purchased clothes in outside her door. Inside, folded up, were the other bags. Jill had put my clothes away in her drawers and closet. I counted that to be a small victory. At breakfast the next morning I endeavored to be very correct and polite as I complimented Jill on how nice she looked. She returned my platitudes with an angry glare and she left for work without saying a word. In her favor, when she learned her credit cards were toast she didn't break down and scream at me over the phone or miss work. That evening she did still slam the door to the garage loud enough to rattle windows on the other side of the house when she got home from work. "ZANE!" she screamed, "What did you do to my credit cards?" "Your replacements should be here by Saturday or Monday at the latest," I replied soothingly as she stormed up to me. "So," I went on, "did anyone compliment you on your looks today?" "What, I, that's not important," she muttered, then she changed tact. She came over to the sofa where I was reclining, knelt down, and took my hand. "Zane, you are falling into lust, degeneration, and degradation, sins of the flesh. You have to stop this." 'Stop what?' I wasn't precisely sure. "What you want me to do? Should we pray further on the matter? Last night I felt, something, but I still feel empty," I suggested. Jill's face lit up so I slipped past her and knelt beside her. Jill was unwittingly sexy as she sashayed forward on her knees to rest against the sofa. I reached out to her and she took my hand, then the praying began. What followed was a repetitive litany of me falling into lust and dark desires (clothes buying?). Dear departed Uncle Tim didn't even get an honorable mention which would have been surprising if he hadn't been such a total bastard to me. Jill's neglect I didn't quite understand. She'd always been loyal, dutiful, and supportive. It then occurred to me that I'd never seen him exert an ounce of human compassion toward Jill. I got up and ran to my bedroom, ending up on the bed. Jill padded along behind me after a minute. "Zane?" she wondered. "When is the last time you had sex with Uncle Tim?" I whispered so quietly that Jill struggled to understand me. "But, no, don't do this, Zane, don't fall into apostasy," Jill simpered. "I have a gift for you. It is something you want but I need you to answer the question," I offered. "What is the gift?" she asked, guardedly intrigued. "I can promise you no regrets," I countered. Jill weighed her options, turned, and left. "Dinner," Jill called to me an hour later. I dutifully went downstairs to the dining room to enjoy a mediocre meal in silence. We barely exchanged a single glance. As I got up to clean the table, cleaning was my chore, Jill spoke. "Seven years." I was pretty proud that I didn't fall over in shock. First off, in my teenage, hormone-addled mind, how could anyone go without sex for seven years? Next, how could someone with Jill as a wife not want to have sex at least once every seven hours? Finally, what was Tim doing in the lady-boy section of Bangkok when he found me that one time? I really feel like an idiot on occasion. "I saved your three favorite Sunday dresses," I rewarded her. Jill's eyes showed a glimmer of hope. "Which ones? I mean, how did you know which ones were my favorites?" she pondered. "You told me, Aunt Jill. I do listen to you, ya know," I responded. She gave me the oddest look, as if I had just explained to her how Ruth slew Goliath, not David. "Thank you," she whispered. The first battle of the Witch, the Brat, and the Wardrobe was over. The war would go on. The next time we went grocery shopping (Jill decided that the less time I was left alone, the slower I would plummet to my eventual fiery demise) I caught her noticing guys giving her the once over and she liked it, of that I'm sure. How do I know this? She let me talk to the cute stock girl for fifteen seconds before reeling me in, which was long enough for her to write her number on the palm of my hand. I called her and asked if she wanted to go to a sorority party when the semester began. She informed me she was a rising senior in high school so I gave her my number and told her to call me on her eighteenth birthday if she was still interested. You can't win them all, immediately. FFU             Birds are made beautiful by their plumage but divine by their flight        Now to the college I was attending; Freedom Fellowship University (yes, that is F-FU if you stutter) is the Christian college in my new hometown. Jill read about them in online chat rooms and by communicating with some of her Christian social network gal pals. She heard they had a dress code and without checking on the specifics, she bought me a dozen sets of black slacks and white shirts guaranteed to mark me as a social leper. She signed me up for my classes. I opted for Pre-Med; she insisted I should go Pre-Law until I revealed my secret sinful desire to work for the ACLU, at which point she relented. She wanted me to play some sports, I suspect because she wanted me to have a safe hormonal outlet that didn't involve me touching women. I could have told her that dressed as I was, getting women (short of kidnapping) would be nearly impossible. The problem was, they didn't offer any of the traditional sports except for soccer and track and field. I felt that was odd but I decided to sign up for soccer tryouts anyway. I also signed up for Karate, though I had no idea what a Christian school would be teaching that for, plus Archery (I've never used a bow before), Marksmanship (I've never fired a gun either), and Orienteering (because everyone gets lost in suburban Virginia and has to subsist on squirrel and road kill, right?). I downright refused to have anything to do with the Competitive Bible Study Team. By the end of the admissions process I was beginning to think this was a school for some kind of uber-religious survivalists. Still, they accepted me on short notice and except for a tiny quirk in the online admissions form, I was sadly ready to go to college. It would be that tiny quirk that would change my life forever. There Must Be a Church! Before I could attend college there was one quibble to deal with and that was which church Jill and I would attend. I claimed to be partial to the Unitarians, mainly to watch Jill's face go from normal to pale to an angry beet red. Sometimes razzing her is too easy. Jill chose the First Anointed Free-willed Fellowship of Christ after carefully weighing, considering, and then utterly disregarding my input. I guess I had to be happy they weren't snake handlers. On that first Sunday it was raining. I ended up having to run back into the house as Jill backed the car out of the garage and I took a header into a mud puddle in the lawn. Seeing how soaked I was, Jill allowed me to miss out on Sunday school. When I tried to get to the normal service my car wouldn't start (she'd insisted on buying me a used car, which I was now allowed to return for a new one). The second Sunday was a comedy of errors. The garage door opened halfway, then got stuck, and Jill gave the wrong address to the church family she desperately called to come pick us up. On the third Sunday I was sick, so sick that I missed the Sci-Fi movie classic of the week-(end) Saturday night, Vampire Zombie Overlords II. Jill normally lets me watch it because I told her it shows science in a bad light. I would like to point out that Jill isn't stupid but she does tend to believe that which is most convenient to her world view, in this case, Science = Bad. The fourth and final college-free Sunday, Buddy Jesus informed me that I had to go because no Act of God showed up to save me. It turned out that the First Anointed Free-willed Fellowship of Christ was huge, one of those mega-churches and by the number of luxury cars in the parking lot, not one populated by the unwashed masses. Everyone was very, very friendly to the point where I refused to drink or eat anything they tried to force on me, fearing that I would become a drugged-out zombie filled with unconditional love and happiness toward the world. The one other weird thing was that there didn't seem to be any kids my age in the congregation. I had no Sunday school that day. I later learned this was the weekend of their Pre-College/High School Youth Retreat. Apparently everyone in this place acted as a herd. Before we left I met with Pastor William Penny, chief shepherd of this flock, and he wanted to be my pal. Jill was enraptured with the guy but somehow he came across as creepy to me. Will, Jill, and a few well-meaning parishioners ended up steering me to the Pastor's office (which was as big as Jill's huge kitchen). There my new buddy wanted me to sign some paperwork. Jill urged me to hurry up and get it over with and promised to take me to a nice steak house we'd seen but never been in, as if I was a small child easily pleased. Maybe I should have gone for pre-law because I ignored Jill and did read what they wanted me to sign. They wanted me to tithe, and not on my income, of which I had none, but on my net worth. Everyone around me looked hopeful and I couldn't help but smile as I picked up the pen and started laughing. When they began looking confused I laughed harder, and that made them displeased. I didn't pick up the pen to write; I picked it up so I could stab the first one to rush me. "Listen up, Pastor Bill, can I call you Pastor Bill?" I didn't wait on his reply. "I don't know you or anyone but Aunt Jill in this room," I chuckled, "and I imagine you are all terribly nice folks, but it will be a cold day in Hell before I give millions of dollars to people I know nothing about." "We are doing God's work," Pastor Bill assured me, "and please call me Pastor William." "Please," Jill pleaded, "this is what your Uncle Tim would want." For Jill's sake I didn't laugh out loud once again. Tim gave me billions of mosquito bites, outdoor plumbing, and ass-whooping s on a regular basis so all I felt I owed good ol' Tim was putting a heavy stone on his grave so that he didn't rise up from the dead when the End Times came. In retrospect, Tim did me one favor; he taught me the ability to be verbally evasive when needed. "Aunt Jill, as Uncle Tim told me, being a Christian is a matter of Faith working through the mind and hands. It is my Christian duty to make sure that his legacy (really my Mom and Dad's) is placed where God wants it. Uncle Tim would make me pray deeply to the Almighty before taking such a momentous step, so pray I shall." Pastor Bill looked disappointed in me, which was a poor mask for his unsatisfied greed. Jill and the rest of the flock seem to have bought my act and that was the victory I needed to win right then. On the way back home Jill was pleased as punch. I'd expressed to her new friends what a wise saint good ol' Uncle Tim had been. This was the day I had to move into my dorm room on FFU's campus so I didn't have much time to dwell on everything that had happened. Barbie Lynn Masters, Dorm Mother To say that I was pretty depressed when I began moving into college would have been an understatement. I met some nice girls who were also moving into my dorm but I wasn't much in the mood for talking. I found my room but they had my name wrong. Not only was I not Zane they even got Glenn wrong; they misspelled it as Glenda. I hadn't been unpacking fifteen minutes before this hottie breezed in asking if I was Glenda's brother. "Sure," I joked, "I'm Zane." "Can I see some ID? I'm the Dorm Mother," she asked pleasantly. I showed her my driver's license which read 'G. Zane Braxton'. "And you are?" I inquired. "Barbie Lynn Masters. Do you live close by?" she prodded. I looked around my room (which I shared with an as-of-yet unseen roomie), shrugged, and replied, "Yes. I live about a mile and a half away, just inside city limits," I played along. Couldn't she see that it was my name on the luggage in my room and I'd already unpacked? "Can we count on seeing a lot more of you?" she purred, stepping up into my personal space. With her four-inch pumps, she was an inch taller than me, so I had to tilt my head up slightly to meet her gaze. "Unless you have a girlfriend, of course," she demurred. "I don't have a girlfriend but I'm looking for one," I grinned back. I wasn't really lying; I was looking for lots of girlfriends. "So, do you have a boyfriend?" "Oh, no," she assured me. "I took a Purity Pledge and I have a fianc so I can't be in a causal relationship with a boy, though being a 'friend' of a student I'm responsible for is fine." She licked her lips. My understanding of her convoluted reasoning was short-circuited by her D plus cleavage, perfect teeth, long light-golden hair, soft bedroom blue eyes, and blemish free, tanned skin. I've never considered myself terribly bashful. I hadn't been with a welcoming and available female in two months; she was right there in my face, so I grabbed Barbie's ass subtly, pulled her close, and began kissing her. At first Barbie seemed to be all talk and no action, but that lasted all of five seconds before she was all over me with our tongues intertwining and our hands going over each other's backs and asses. In a flash I had my hands up her pleated skirt, inside her plain white panties, and was massaging each muscular ass cheek separately and vigorously while my lips left hers and migrated to her neck and ear with kisses and bites, all of which seemed to really excite Barbie Lynn. She was moaning and grinding against me like a teenager coming down from a forty-eight hour unresolved porno binge. Her left hand slid around to the front of my jeans and touched my crotch where I was rapidly coming to the fullness of life. "Oh, God!" she whispered as she began stroking me up and down. "Tell me that's not a rolled up sock." "Huh? What? No, that is all me. Why do you ask?" I mumbled between licks and kisses. "Oh, some boys can be very dishonest," she sighed from past experience. "Does it hurt?" "No, it feels fine," I assured her. "Are you sure it doesn't hurt just a little bit?" she persisted as she groped my bulge. Something clued me in. "Actually, it does hurt a little bit," I guessed. Barbie Lynn broke our embrace, padded silently over to the door, took a quick look out, then shut it. She was back in my arms in record time. "In that case, let me see it," she grinned. "How does a blowjob jive with your Purity Pledge?" I stupidly wondered out loud. "Oh," she beamed an angelic radiance up at me as she slid down my body and unzipped my pants, our eyes locked together, "a blow job is sinful and done out of lust but relieving your pain is blessed and done out of love." "I feel myself getting closer to spiritual fulfillment every second I'm with you," I breathed huskily as she pulled down my pants and boxers, unleashing my manhood. Barbie tentatively, with a bit of fear showing, licked the tip of my cock. I let her get used to me before resting a hand on her head. She responded by slowly engulfing my cockhead, which felt freaking awesome after my long dry spell (please remember I had virtually non-stop sex for two and a half years). She bobbed slightly while pumping my shaft rapidly with one hand and tickling my balls with the other. I tried to push a little bit but Barbie gagged. I guessed she wasn't too skilled at this but hey, everyone starts somewhere. After five minutes she was taking more than half of my length in and doing so hungrily. "I hope you are not close to coming," she mumbled between mouthfuls. "Actually, I'm feeling greedy," I responded. She looked up at me, head still bobbing. "I can sense your pain and feel I should do something about it," I explained. Now she looked confused so I backed up, pulled Barbie up by her waist and kissed her once more. I gracefully walked my hand down her waist and hip to her crotch. With a sharp intake of breath by Barbie, she melted into me and bit my shoulder. Next I spun us around and pushed her back on the bed at the corner, splaying her out for me as her bosom bounced sensually and enticingly. "What's on your mind?" Barbie asked with wide eyes. "I want a taste," I grinned evilly, which only turned her on more. I fell between her outstretched knees. I made eye contact with her as she propped up on her elbows and my hands went to her panty waistband. I grinned, she blushed, and the panties came flying off. Barbie squeaked then slammed a hand over her mouth to muffle the noise. "Use my pillows to prop up your back," I directed Barbie Lynn since she clearly wanted to watch. I maneuvered Barbie into a suitable position so that I was kneeling on the floor with Barbie's silky smooth legs spread to either side. Barbie Lynn was propped up so that she could watch me work. I got the feeling she was used to some level of stimulation, just not from a guy. I could deal with that. "Maybe we shouldn't do this now, or go back to my place where it is safer?" she asked. "I'm too hungry for you right now; your scent is intoxicating," I finished up saying, and then I went in. I didn't rush things because every first time should be special. My right hand traced the line along the sides and rear of Barbie Lynn's thighs. My left hand traced the line over her pubic area to her stomach that finally ended with her left breast. "Hurry," she panted. I knew she had somewhere to be but I was aware she could use some stress relief too. Barbie reached down with a hand to control my left hand and head but I was obeying my instincts. By the time she made up her mind to stop me, I overwhelmed Barbie with a pleasurable, mind warping first orgasm. The noise brought a few students sneaking in to take a peak. Once I had a semblance of control over her, I began a series of actions to excite her whole body. On the second orgasm she wrapped her legs around my head and nearly crushed it. While I lapped up her juices, I decided to follow that up by kissing Barbie and giving her some of her own fluids to taste, a trick new to her. I kept my cock sheathed, though all three of Barbie's holes looked delightful. I figured she wasn't ready yet but I did manage to take off her shirt in the process and fondling and suckling at her magnificent breasts. After the third and fourth orgasms, Barbie passed out, and when she woke up, she whispered to me that she wanted my cock in her mouth and cunt. Purity Pledge? What Purity Pledge? Barbie Lynn confided in me that she'd sucked cock before and thought she was quite good at it, and that a few men had temped her cunt and ass with real penetration but all she had done so far was pleasure herself with toys and with the aid of other (female) students here at school. She was still technically a virgin (no boy parts had penetrated her cunt) but she'd done 'everything else.' Was she or was she not an anal virgin? My money was on virginity. Barbie was pleased that I was going to her church (it was highly popular at the college, she told me), almost as pleased as I was to find her so receptive and hungry for more sex. I told her she needed sexier underwear and that I would gladly go shopping with her for some in case she wanted to model any (yes, I know they don't let you model underwear). While we talked I helped her get dressed, though we couldn't find her panties. We slipped out after that, Barbie to tend to her girls and me to go to my Aunt's. I told her I'd see her tomorrow. Barbie laughed as if she didn't believe me. As I left, I began to appreciate the guy: girl ratio of this place because it was looking very good in my favor. My evening with Jill passed uneventfully; we stayed up late as Jill suddenly realized she was going to be alone for the first time in years so I didn't end up sneaking quietly into my dorm room until well past midnight. The Journey Begins. Day One, It's a What? My first day of college began with a six a.m. wake-up alarm in our room. Both my roommate and I sat up at the same time. We looked at each other and the sheets failed to conceal we apparently both slept shirtless. "Hi. You are a girl," I got off first. "And you are a guy," she replied indignantly. "What are you doing in my room? I mean, why did they give me a female roommate?" I countered. "Ah, are you joking?" she asked incredulously. Clearly I wasn't, and that realization made her grin mischievously. "Where is Glenda?" she inquired next. "Ugh," I sighed. "When I was registered their system misspelled my name. My first name is Glenn, thus the Glenda, but I go by Zane, my middle name. What about you?" "Whoops. I'm Rio Talon and this is going to be wicked," she giggled. "I have to admit I never thought I'd meet someone like you at FFU." "You don't see quite the hardcore fundamentalist/survivalist type either," I responded. "Ha!" she grunted. "You got me. It was either this or three years at a minimum security prison in Arizona," she confessed. She didn't volunteer what she would have done time for and it was really none of my business. "I need to shower," I changed the subject. "I'll go with you," Rio volunteered as she slipped out of bed, and yes, she was naked, and cleverly and artfully shaved with several delicate chevrons pointing down. She also had a black tattoo of the name Lilith going from the right hip along the bikini line, definitely not Church issue. I went to the closet, got a robe, towel, and bathroom kit. Rio brazenly watched me move around. "Body-conscious much?" she chuckled. "Rio, I spent the last two years bathing down at the river with two hundred of my closest neighbors. Trying to cover up gets old really fast," I grinned back at her. "Does my body disgust you?" "'Disgust' isn't the word I was going to use," Rio said as she licked her lips and also got ready for the bathroom. "Now, let's get you shaved before, the bathroom gets flooded with people. By the way," she tossed me Barbie's missing undies, "are these yours?" "Booty from my panty raid; please don't turn me in," I chuckled, as I caught them, then stashed them in my backpack, hopefully to return to Barbie Lynn later. Rio laughed again. As I suspected, not only did I get assigned a female roommate but I was on a female floor, which earned me more than a few shocked looks. Since Rio stuck close to me, she earned her own share of looks, but these were more scornful; Rio ate it up. I still couldn't decide whether I'd miss Rio or not when I got my new room assignment. The two girls in the showers ignored Rio and I when we came in so I was able to shave in peace and get under a steamy shower without the expected shrieks. Only when they dressed in their robes and put on their glasses did things change. Their looks were best expressed as 'a boy saw me naked!' followed by 'A boy saw me naked, ' and ended up with, 'A boy saw me naked and he liked what he saw.' I get hard when the wind blows, anywhere around the globe. They fled in a fit of giggles and I safely exited the bathroom before another girl entered. It was hardly unforeseen that my attire made Rio laugh but when she suggested black horn-rimmed glasses would really complete the nerd-look, I had to laugh too. I noted her regulation skirt appeared to be a bit higher above the knee than was prudent with a pronounced lack of underwear. Rio confessed that her parents tossed all her 'stripper' wear when they shipped her off and she wasn't going to wear the 'granny' panties they had put in place of her G-strings. The trek cross-campus to the Dining Hall would have been more enlightening if Rio had not lured me into an engrossing conversation. Remember now, I had been isolated from mainstream Western pop culture for over two years and had a lot of catching up to do. We grabbed some trays of breakfast; then, at Rio's insistence, we headed outside to eat pretty much by ourselves, or so we hoped. "Professor, inquired this cute brunette with pig tails, dimples, and into pushing her tits in my face; I barely noticed she was backed up by three other girls. "Huh?" I questioned. "Braxton," Rio spoke over me. "Could you tell me, where the, um, Clegger Science Building is, Professor Braxton?" She lied pathetically. My first thoughts were, 'why is she wearing such a thin white blouse two-sizes too small?' and wondering 'when is this thread holding that central button in place going to give up on its hopeless struggle and let her boobs pop out?' Then I became curious why she called me 'professor'. "It is right over there," I said, as I stood up, put my hand on the small of her back, and pointed the way with my other hand. The location of the building was blindingly obvious since this is not a huge campus. If things weren't awkward enough, Ms. Brunette twisted, rubbed her hardening nipples against my chest, and asked, "There?" "No," I corrected by whispering into her ear, causing her to wiggle against me. I took her forearm, lingering my touch on the pulse of her wrist before directing it to the proper angle. "I would walk you there," I added, "but we have to go to the auditorium soon." "Thank you, Professor Braxton." She wiggled a third time. "It is really a pity I don't have any of your classes. What do you teach?" "He's a Biblical Archeologist," Rio interrupted, "specializing in Early Christian Erotic Art and Rituals." I felt Ms. Brunette have a micro-orgasm over that piece of fantastical news. "Are you still taking on students?" Brunette panted to me. Rio jumped up. "Whoops! Look at the time!" exclaimed Rio, "Professor, you have to go, Right Now!" With that, she dragged me away from Ms. Brunette and her girl posse and across campus. "What the hell was that about and why did she call me Professor?" I hissed to Rio as we came to the auditorium for our first assembly. "Oh, it must be some Southern thing, sort of like the English calling men 'Governor'," she lied convincingly. How do I now know she lied? It will become obvious.   I took a seat with Rio amongst the sea of students and it was just my luck that we were surrounded by girls once more. I really wasn't in the mood to have them gawk at me so I slumped down and kept a low profile. The auditorium sounded full-up and there was a magnitude of teachers and such on the stage. When a stately, attractive, yet demanding and stern tall woman with long grey hair worked up in a bun stepped up to the podium, the hall grew silent. First she led us in prayer, which I found odd because normally at this level of fundamentalism, women couldn't lead men in prayer, but I could have cared less. She welcomed the rising seniors first, then worked down the list until she recognized the new class of freshmen, reminding them of their 'Handmaiden Duties,' whatever that was. I looked to Rio who was stifling to suppress some dark glee, undoubtedly at my expense. The Chancellor of FFU worked us through some of what I assumed was normal school crap plus a reminder to review with diligence their code of moral and ethical behaviors and the names of their spiritual guidance counselors in case they felt wickedness overcoming them. Considering the thin white blouses and the short, pleated plaid skirts, yours truly and the other men on campus were going to be scoring like mad, morals and ethics be damned. A closing prayer ended the meeting and we dispersed like good little sheep heading for our first class of the semester. Rio and I both had English Literature but in different rooms so she was kind/sadistic enough to drop me by my room before heading her own way. I walked in and took a middle seat. Once again all the girls looked at me funny when they came in and I couldn't miss the fact that in a classroom size of twenty, we had nineteen girls and only one guy, me. I was mulling this over (I'm actually a smart guy but I admit, I hadn't been showing it too much recently) when our teacher came in. Her name was Ms. Goodswell (no lie) and she was a gorgeous brunette with breasts of greater proportions than Barbie Lynn's, and the rest just got lusher. Ms.  Goodswell leaned against the front of her large wooden writing desk and used her tablet to scroll down the roll call. I was number three. "Braxton," her sugary sweet voice drawled out. "Glenda Braxton." I shifted in my seat. "Here," I said in a clear masculine voice, "but I go by Zane." Ms.  Goodswell looked up over her reading glasses, expecting something other than me. As she looked at me her eyes grew larger, and she looked, and she looked. "What are you wearing?" she asked crisply. "What my Aunt told me was proper school attire, Ms. Goodswell," I replied tentatively. "Proper attire is clearly outlined, white blouse and a pleated blue and gold tartan skirt with white knee sox and black shoes. Men wear pants; women wear skirts," she clarified. I imagine my jaw dropped open at that one. Finally, I stood up so she could get a good look at me. "I'm dressed correctly, then I'm a guy," I insisted. Ms. Goodswell had looked annoyed but now she looked pissed. She strode boldly toward me, heels clicking against the marble floor. "So you insist that you are a man, do you?" she snapped. Before I could do anything but nod she slapped a cupped hand against my crotch. I coughed in pain. I became aroused despite the mild discomfort because I was now gazing down into Ms. Goodswell's ample bosom. Her eyes went from angry to utter shock. "You are a man," she whispered in horror. "What are you doing in my class?" I reached into my book bag and got my schedule, letting her gaze on it. I noticed her hand stayed on my crotch. "Nine a.m., English Lit. 101 in room 204, Denning Hall V. Goodswell," I read out loud. Ms. Goodswell read it over while she massaged my growing shaft; subconsciously or not, I wasn't sure. "Very well," she said decisively. She turned back and returned to the roll. As I sat down I had that creepy feeling that everyone else was staring at me, or more precisely, my Goodswell-inspired hard on. After that little bit of drama the actual class was okay. Ms. Goodswell was pretty bright and made our upcoming journey into the works of a bunch of old dead British guys sound fun. When the bell rang we got up and started to file out but Ms. Goodswell motioned me to wait for the others to leave us alone. It didn't work out that way; the other girls hovered right outside the door. "Okay, Mr. Braxton, what are you trying to prove?" she accused me with some real heat. "Please, Ms. Goodswell, believe me; I haven't a clue what is going on here. I woke up with a girl in my room this morning, I began. "You had a girl in your room this morning? That didn't take you long," she said bitterly. "No, wait; it was my assigned roommate, Rio Talon, and she was on her side of the room. It is okay because they accidently stuck me on a girl's floor in the dorm because there were girls in the showers too," I continued. "Didn't you thing that was a bit odd?" she asked suspiciously. "Not really, ma'am. I've spent the last two years with missionaries in rural Thailand; I'm used to bathing with naked women all the time. Initially, I figured this was some sort of bureaucratic snafu but after doing my own quick census of your class, I think I've missed something crucial," I explained. "Mr. Braxton, Zane, this is an all-girls school; men are not allowed. We can't even employ a man under the age of forty-five," she informed me while studying my expression. While my cock would have done summersaults of joy, my brain was looking at my access to my trust fund going down the toilet. "I apologize. I'm pretty sure my Aunt Jill didn't know and I assure you, I was ignorant of this fact. What do we do now?" I sighed. "I believe you, Mr., .Zane. No one would use this as an excuse after going through all the trouble to sneak in here. For now, you continue to your classes and I'll inform your other instructors of this, extraordinary event. Expect to spend lunch with the Chancellor so that we can extricate you from this situation. Can I rely on you to be good in the interim?" "I'll do my best," I promised. She dismissed me and began using her phone. When I slipped out of the room, my classmates made room enough for me to make my way down the hall. "Zane!" a young female voice called out. I turned around to see Ms. Brunette. "Is it true you are a freshman here?" I was sure she would be pissed for the whole 'Professor' gag Rio had played and I'd unwittingly gone along with. "Yes," I confessed. She'd assumed I was a teacher because I was male and I hadn't corrected her. "Kiss me!" she beamed hungrily. That was not what I expected but I reacted quickly and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. Ms. Brunette looked upset. "You can do better than that," she commanded. Again, not what I expected; I put my book bag down, took hers off her shoulder and placed it next to mine. I started off with a repeat of the last kiss but instead of that being the ending point, I used it as a foundation to build upon. I slowly drew her in; she pulled her arms up between us and cupped my face as I dipped her with enough tongue action to make our steamy embrace a thermographic exploration of lust. We kissed for over a minute before I brought her up and let her go. "Better?" I murmured to her. Ms. Brunette nodded dreamily. As I retrieved my book bag from the floor I realized I was adrift in a sea of lonely young women. I could now empathize with that lost baby seal who found itself surrounded by a pod of killer whales. "Kiss me!" insisted a blonde. "No, me; I was here first." "I'm a senior; I go first," demanded a breathtaking black woman. I didn't know what was going on and I had no idea how to deal with this bizarre situation but all that was taken out of my hands by the next noise I heard. "Get off me, bitch," I heard Rio shout out, followed by a slap and her scream. Rio was hardly my friend, in fact, she had used me for her own personal amusement for the entire time I'd known her, but she was my roommate, an outsider, and I was sure no one else would come to her aid. I shouldered my way in the directions of her screams and sobs, parting the last few girls separating us. Rio was on her stomach on the floor with three girls gathered over her. Closest to me was one with thick, wavy black hair and dark skin who had her foot pushing down on Rio's ass. The second one, who appeared to be the leader, was a black girl with shiny black hair in an intricate weave and was bouncing on Rio's back, yanking her hair back painfully, and was taunting Rio, saying she was supposed to be a good little beast of burden as well as mocking her as a 'felon'. The last tormentor was the only one facing me, though she was preoccupied with holding Rio's arms forward so she couldn't reach back to scratch the ringleader. It wasn't hard for me to figure out what to do. When Weave started bouncing up, I swept the legs out from under the other wavy-haired girl, sending her toppling backwards. I then put a boot to the black girl's ass, propelling her into the spectators on the far side of us. I didn't even bother with girl number three. I grabbed Rio by the arm and yanked her up and swung her behind me. It turned out to be a good choice because when the black girl back-flipped up in one fluid move, she landed in a martial arts fighting stance. I had a fight on my hands, or would have if the bell hadn't rung. As it was, the black girl looked both outraged and shocked when she took in my gender and my counter-stance. A flood of girls suddenly separated us. Rio took the opportunity to grab her book bag, then my hand, and together we bolted to our next class which was, oddly enough, Biblical Archeology but without the procreation parts. Our professor, Mrs. Carradine, treated me a bit coldly but the attention directed my way by the student body was anything but. I had barely pulled out my book when the girl behind me tapped my shoulder and slipped me a note. You will take my book bag to lunch and eat lunch with me. Dove Foster I furrowed my brow and showed the note to Rio who was sitting next to me. She smiled and whispered, "Handmaiden's Duty," in a condescending tone. "Didn't you read your handbook?" Any further conversation was cut short by Mrs. Carradine's blistering glare. For some reason, Buddy Jesus kept me safe from anymore female attention until the class ended and I began to make my way out. I took some comfort that Rio stayed close to my side. My Social Secretary "Zane. Zane Braxton, do you mind if I call you Zane?" babbled a shorter, slender girl with shoulder length black hair and glasses as she grabbed my elbow in a death grip from behind. "You can't ask him to do anything until he steps out of class," Rio cautioned the newcomer. Now I had to decide whether or not I'd be a slave to Dove for an hour because technically she appeared to be in violation of the rules, which I knew no

This week I'm joined by author and documentary filmmaker Grant McPhee, who directed three amazing films about the Scottish underground music scenes (Big Gold Dream, The Glasgow School, Teenage Superstars). We discuss the differences between writing his book Postcards From Scotland and making these films, the UK press and their relationships with Scottish bands, the turmoil at the early Jesus & Mary Chain shows, both Postcard & Fast Product Records influencing Factory & Rough Trade records, how The Bay City Rollers were a massive influence on the early indie music scene, the genesis and integrity of Teenage Fanclub, early Scottish post-punk bands Josef K and Scars, choosing Kim Deal of The Breeders & Robert Foster of The Go-Betweens to narrate the films, the stress of making documentaries, the supportiveness of the Scottish music scenes, The Vaselines & Captain America being massive influences on (and friends) of Nirvana, BMX Bandits, Orange Juice and Soup Dragons changing their sounds, Stephen Pastel's ears getting sunburned after a haircut and more!So let's start a musical riot in under 12 minutes on this week's revolutions per movie!GRANT McPHEE:https://grantmcpheedirector.com/https://omnibuspress.com/products/postcards-from-scotland-scottish-independent-music-1983-1995ALL THREE FILMS ARE STREAMING ONLINEREVOLUTIONS PER MOVIE:Host Chris Slusarenko (Eyelids, Guided By Voices, owner of Clinton Street Video rental store) is joined by actors, musicians, comedians, writers & directors who each week pick out their favorite music documentary, musical, music-themed fiction film or music videos to discuss. Fun, weird, and insightful, Revolutions Per Movie is your deep dive into our life-long obsessions where music and film collide.The show is also a completely independent affair, so the best way to support it is through our Patreon at patreon.com/revolutionspermovie. By joining, you can get weekly bonus episodes, physical goods such as Flexidiscs, and other exclusive goods.Revolutions Per Movie releases new episodes every Thursday on any podcast app, and additional, exclusive bonus episodes every Sunday on our Patreon. If you like the show, please consider subscribing, rating, and reviewing it on your favorite podcast app. Thanks!SOCIALS:@revolutionspermovieBlueSky: @revpermovieTHEME by Eyelids 'My Caved In Mind'www.musicofeyelids.bandcamp.com ARTWORK by Jeff T. Owenshttps://linktr.ee/mymetalhand Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

This Is True Really News celebrates Episode 1000! Hosts Scot Combs and Tony Verkinnes deliver bizarre true stories that'll make you question humanity.In this epic milestone episode: A 76-year-old woman shoots her neighbor in the face with a FLARE GUN over a cat dispute at a retirement community. Two men steal a Humpty Dumpty statue from a miniature golf course in Cape May, New Jersey. The Flathead Beacon Police Blotter brings us awkward naked joggers, mysterious hostage emails that weren't real, and a stolen washer and dryer that nobody wants to prosecute.Plus: The ultimate high school prank involving a "creepy" teacher, and the most embarrassing checkout line story you'll ever hear involving cucumbers and Vaseline.All the news you're about to hear is true. Really. As far as you know.Get your own This Is True Really News coffee mug: https://teespring.com/stores/special-ts-5/collection/mugs?page=1Leave your comments and send longer stories, pictures, or feedback to: TITR@netradio.network#ThisIsTrueReallyNews #Episode1000 #TrueNews #WeirdNews #BizarreStories #FlareGunAssault #PodcastMilestone #FunnyNews #TrueCrime #WeirdCrime #ComedyPodcast #NewsCommentary

What does choosing joy really mean when you’re living through pain, pressure, or exhaustion? In this deeply personal solo episode, Choosing Joy host Deborah Joy Winans Williams sits down—not as an actress or celebrity, but as herself—to answer your questions, share her heart, and reflect on what joy looks like when it’s uncomfortable, spiritual, and hard-won. Deborah opens up about motherhood, mental health, faith, grief, self-worth, and how she learned (and is still learning) to choose joy daily—not just on stage, but in real life. From the lessons of her Winans family legacy to her girls' trip epiphany with Merle Dandridge to the quiet prayers that sustain her, this episode is a soulful, grounding invitation to go deeper. Whether you’re a woman of faith, an artist in progress, a mother in motion, or just someone trying to pour from a not-so-full cup—Deborah’s raw honesty and wisdom remind us that joy isn’t a mood... it’s a decision. Chapters 00:00 – What Choosing Joy Means to Me01:00 – Unpacking My Relationship with Joy03:00 – What Life Has Taught Me About Grace05:00 – The Power of Choosing Yourself07:00 – A Girls' Trip That Changed Everything09:00 – How My Faith Guides My Work11:00 – My Morning Routine of Gratitude13:00 – 6AM Prayer, Grandma Winans, and Simplicity15:00 – Staying Grounded in a Chaotic World17:00 – What My Family’s Legacy Taught Me19:00 – How My Uncle Bebe Changed My Perspective21:00 – Seeing People as Ministry23:00 – Navigating Motherhood, Germs & Balance25:00 – Rest, Vitamins, Vaseline & Olly Multis 27:00 – Playing Charity on Greenleaf29:00 – Grace for Imperfection & Finding Your Way31:00 – Advice for Young Women in Music & Acting33:00 – Final Reflections & Your Invitation to Joy #DeborahJoyWinansWilliams #ChoosingJoyPodcast #GreenleafCharity #BlackWomenInFaith #JoyIsAChoice #FaithAndMotherhood #ChristianWomenPodcast #WomenInEntertainment #HealingWithGod #SoulfulStorytellingSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

 If the apocalypse hit tomorrow… would you be ready?That's the question Sandy poses after learning actor Josh Duhamel has a 70% complete doomsday cabin in Minnesota. In this episode of The JB and Sandy Show, the crew dives into prepping, survival gear, and the wild world of emergency expos—while keeping it hilarious and uniquely Austin. Sandy reignites his prepping hobby, revealing he owns tubs full of ammunition, fire-starting Vaseline, and plans to buy a hand-cranked radio. JB adds his Starlink satellite internet to the mix, and Tricia wonders if they'll need horses when fuel runs out. The trio even discusses forming a survival commune with their friend Moore—who has enough rations for four and the ammo to defend them. The episode also uncovers a hidden Cold War-era bomb shelter in Zilker Park and a house on South Congress with a bunker under the front yard. It's Austin history meets survivalist fantasy. Later, the conversation shifts to pop culture as JB and Sandy celebrate the addition of two rising stars to the cast of Saturday Night Live:Cam Patterson, a Houston comic known for his edgy humor and appearances on Kill Tony.Veronica Sloakowska, a quirky Instagram sensation with roles on Tires and What We Do in the Shadows.The hosts reflect on SNL's evolution, its 50th anniversary, and how the show thrives in the age of YouTube and streaming. 

Tonight on Real Ghost Stories Online, a collection of encounters that blur the line between the ordinary and the otherworldly. Angela from Michigan recalls a night in the late '90s that should have been harmless fun at a scrapbooking party. Instead, she found herself staring through a hazy, Vaseline-like shimmer at a man in overalls—standing in the doorway of her friend's home. When she spoke up, her friend casually confirmed: Oh, that's just the old man who owned the house. He can't come into this part. A chilling reminder that renovations don't always erase the past. Then there's Stacy, who visited a cemetery Christmas display with her mother. As they drove the narrow, one-way path, headlights appeared in her rearview mirror. But when she pulled over to let the car pass—there was nothing there. No vehicle, no sound, no trace. Just an empty road in the middle of a graveyard. Eric shares the bizarre story of his debit card—used to buy donuts at 8 a.m., yet somehow discovered minutes later buried deep in a box of clothes during his garage sale. With no duplicates, no logical explanation, and bank records confirming the purchase, the only conclusion left may be paranormal interference—or something darker attached to his sensitive girlfriend. And finally, Daniel's four-year-old daughter describes a dream conversation with her great-grandfather. In it, she cheerfully recounted family memories—before abruptly turning somber: “No Daddy, they killed him. He told me last night.” She was right. Her grandfather had been stabbed to death decades earlier, information she could never have known.   These are the stories that remind us: the dead aren't always done speaking. Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Send us a textThe better than Van Helsing boys have spent their lives under the strict rule of their producer. Unaware of his dark past, they struggle to understand his increasingly erratic behavior. But when they begin to uncover the violent truths behind his mixing board, their world unravels, forcing them to confront having to produce the show without him. On Episode 683 of Trick or Treat Radio we discuss the film Abraham's Boys: A Dracula Story based on the short story from Joe Hill and directed by Natasha Kermani! We also talk about the upcoming Deathstalker film, isolationism and gaslighting from those you trust, and plenty of Dracula lore. So grab your monster hunting handbook, subvert any and all expectations, and strap on for the world's most dangerous podcast!Stuff we talk about: Steven Kostanski, The Void, Psycho Goreman, Frankie Freako, Deathstalker, Astron-6, practical FX, violence, sword and sorcery films, Jerry “The King” Lawler, f*ck WWE, The Incubus, Needful Things, the 13th Warrior, Eaters of the Dead, House of 1000 Corpses, Hunt for the Blood Orchid, Suspect Zero, Lets Scare Jessica to Death, The Last Exorcism, The Candyman, Watchmen, this day in horror history, Alexa Vega, bloody birthdays, The Tomorrow People, Machete Kills, Mothers Day, Psycho III, Zodiac, John Kassir, Rock and Shock, The Three Stooges, Benny and Joon, Will and Grace, Caveman, Todd Browning's Freaks, Rocket Ship XM, Invaders from Mars, Slash, Tim Seeley, Red Sonja, Rose McGowan, Deathwatch, The Dreadites, boomsword, Lucio Fulci, Conquest, covering the lens in vaseline, Sabrina Siana, Planet of the Gapes, Joe Hill, Abraham's Boys, Natasha Kermani, Titus Welliver, Jocelin Donahue, Frailty, Bill Paxton, PCU, Dogtooth, Yorgos Lanthimos, “the severed heads looked really good”, no style nor substance, Vanhelsing, movie of the week, “It's Better than Vanhelsing”, Batman, Monster: The Ed Gein Story, Wisconsin represents, Menendez Brothers, Brute 1976, Joe Knetter, Marcel Walz, Frute Brute, Countess Caramella, Brute 1976, Brut By Faberge, Mammoth, Robert Rodriguez, Greg Nicotero, Michael Jackson, Wolfgang Van Halen, Peter's Polar Bear Paradox, The Serial Killer Lookbook, Conquest and Divide, and The Ballad of Oswalt Patton.Support us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/trickortreatradioJoin our Discord Community: discord.trickortreatradio.comSend Email/Voicemail: mailto:podcast@trickortreatradio.comVisit our website: http://trickortreatradio.comStart your own podcast: https://www.buzzsprout.com/?referrer_id=386Use our Amazon link: http://amzn.to/2CTdZzKFB Group: http://www.facebook.com/groups/trickortreatradioTwitter: http://twitter.com/TrickTreatRadioFacebook: http://facebook.com/TrickOrTreatRadioYouTube: http://youtube.com/TrickOrTreatRadioInstagram: http://instagram.com/TrickorTreatRadioSupport the show

Jaime Sin is a Toronto based DJ and writer who's parties helped shape the cities nightlife. For many of our friends, they were were some our first experiences on the dance floor. Jaime sat down with us to discuss discovering house music at an early age, listening to the Twin Peaks theme song on the school bus, 'Housers', Toronto as a House music city in the 90s, Sonic Youth, Joy Division shirts making a comeback, her first rave, party hotlines, all ages parties, the post rave era, Mod nights, Roxy Blue, Vaseline at the El Mocambo, Bruce Labruce's old Exclaim! column, open format parties, Club 56, Shack Up, Nick sneaking into Jaime's parties in high school, Stillepost, the 'puke smell' at the Queenshead, not taking a copy of the Crystal Castles demo, hot guys in leather jackets, Mu's Paris Hilton, Glass Candy, her parties with Will Munro, opening for LCD Soundsystem at the ACC, The Beaver, the old Unlovable, Soul Jazz records compilations and much more!Jaime SinJosh McIntyreNick Marian----COLD PODJoin us on Patreon to access all episodes and weekly one on one pods!https://www.patreon.com/coldpod

„Alle anderen im Fernsehen waren immer bildhübsch. Und mich hat man nur blutverschmiert mit Vaseline im Gesicht im Boxring gesehen. Beim Playboy-Shooting konnte ich endlich mal sexy und fraulich sein.“ Regina Halmich ist eine echte Legende: 12 Jahre lang ungeschlagene Weltmeisterin im Boxen und heute eine von nur fünf Frauen in der Boxing Hall of Fame. -- In dieser Folge BUNTE VIP GLOSS sprechen Podcast-Host Jennifer Knäble und Regina Halmich über die Gratwanderung zwischen Boxen und Beauty. Denn als Frau in diesem Sport wirst Du nicht als Glamour-Queen wahrgenommen, sondern als harte Kämpferin. Blaue Augen überschminken? Das hat Regina perfektioniert. Und nach der aktiven Karriere ließ sie ein paar Spuren des Sports korrigieren: Der Schönheitschirurg gab ihr ihre ursprüngliche Nase zurück. Wichtig für Regina Halmich: „Ich wollte kein Stups-Näschen! Ich habe dem Arzt extra ein Bild mitgebracht, wie meine Nase vor dem Boxen ausgesehen hat. Die wollte ich wieder“. Fun Fact: Genau dieser Arzt saß auch beim Show-Kampf gegen Stefan Raab 2024 direkt neben dem Ring. Wie ist es dazu gekommen? Welche Beauty-Behandlung hat sie mit Kim Kardashian gemeinsam? Und: Mit welchem Make-up findet Regina Halmich sich immer perfekt? Außerdem sprechen die beiden über die Liebe zu Tieren: Regina Halmich hat einen Hund, sie engagiert sich für den Tierschutz und ist im Urlaub gerade mit Rochen geschwommen. Und die Box-Legende verrät, warum sie viel lieber mit Jennifer Knäble Fotos macht als mit Franzi van Almsick. Regina Halmich bei BUNTE VIP GLOSS - zuhören macht schön. -- Hier findet ihr alle Informationen zu unseren Podcast-Partnern: https://www.wonderlink.de/@buntevipgloss-partner -- Ein BUNTE Original Podcast.

“Here's what's going on, buddy: the day we get married is the day I ship those brats off to Switzerland, get the picture? It's me, or them. Take your pick.” We watched “The Parent Trap” (1998) with our friend Donovan Marcotte, and we're seeing double! This movie really is a touchstone for an entire generation out there, and we totally get it.  Lindsay Lohan… and Lindsay Lohan - stepping in for the icon that is Hayley Mills - are really making us believe they are two separate kids. Gone are the days of Vaseline down the middle of the camera lens and static shots. Lindsay is waltzing around her cabin, and the camera is following both of them. It's some real Kermit the Frog riding a bicycle-level stuff. Trick shots aside, the rest of the cast really shines here - Lisa Ann Walter, Simon Kunz, and the Diva herself - Elaine Hendrix - are worth the price of admission. Break out your old clamshell VHS - it's time for the Lohan-aissance! Thank you for listening, and don't forget to subscribe, rate, and review us on Apple Podcasts! www.patreon.com/moviesthatmadeusgay Facebook/Instagram: @moviesthatmadeusgay Bluesky: @MTMUGPod.bsky.social Scott Youngbauer: Twitter @oscarscott / Instagram @scottyoungballer Peter Lozano: Twitter/Instagram @peterlasagna

What's on Craigslist? 8-4-2025 …Love my plants …You never looked back, but I did …I swear, I wasn't going to use the Bananas and Vaseline at the same time …He swears it's not his Kink, but we are not so sure

The desire to pursue a passion can be a powerful motivator for individuals, often driving them to learn and grow despite feelings of unqualification or inexperience. This theme is vividly illustrated in this podcast episode featuring tattoo artist Chris Crooks, who shares his journey into the world of tattooing with host Aaron Della Vedova. From a young age, Chris was immersed in tattoo culture, with both of his grandfathers and his father sporting tattoos. This early exposure ignited a desire within him to become a tattoo artist, even before he fully understood the craft. He reflects on how the "desire to do it was bigger than the capabilities," highlighting a common experience among many who pursue their passions. This intrinsic motivation propelled him to acquire the skills necessary for success in tattooing, despite his initial lack of experience. Aaron sits down with Chris at Gods of Ink in Frankfurt, Germany. Aaron reflects on the tattoo artist journey that is rarely straightforward and lacks a clear roadmap.  The conversation explores the intricacies of the tattooing process and the passion that fuels artists in this creative field. Tune in for insights into the art of tattooing and the stories behind the ink. Chat Breakdown: 00:00:00 - Overcoming Limitations
 00:02:00 - Family Influence: Tattoos in the Family 00:03:56 - Ignorance and Confidence
 00:04:56 - Imposter Syndrome: The Ongoing Struggle
 00:06:25 - The Role of Ignorance and Confidence in Success
 00:07:19 - Validation from Peers
 00:11:06 - The Value of Hard Work: Learning the Craft
 00:18:02 - Being Nice Pays Off
 00:19:05 - The Global Tattoo Scene: Breaking Stereotypes
 00:22:08 - The Digital Age: Accelerating the Craft
 00:26:11 - Gratefulness and Opportunity in Tattooing 00:30:19 - The Pyramid of Tattooing
 00:34:46 - The Pressure of Large Format Tattoos
 00:37:23 - The Shift to Japanese Style:  00:44:15 - Empathy and Self-Protection 00:49:15 Work-life Balance and Creativity 01:01:45 Cultural Appreciation Through Music 01:15:04 Tattooing as a Human Experience 01:19:10 Inspiration in Tattooing   Quotes: "The desire to do it is always stronger than the being able to do it."  "Ignorance and confidence of youth... you had nothing to lose." "We have to allow ourselves to make mistakes and we have to be OK with those mistakes and not just beat ourselves up to the point where we are stifled." "Just cover it with Vaseline. When your tattoo looks like shit, just at the end, just wad a lot of Vaseline so they can barely see what's going on." "Just being nice to people. And then just that little bit of drawing for them or whatever, just a tiny bit of extra, it just naturally is what I felt like I wanted to do." "If you wanna come in right now, you better end up being fucking really good at this." "I just, I'm always curious, like, where'd that little part of me go?"  "Don't ever betray yourself by being indecisive and waking up and find yourself in a position that, you know, if you had a clone, it would tell you don't do it?" "Tattooing is like this, this lifestyle, find a decision, make the decision, go all in." "The biggest stumbling blocks for white guys aspiring to do Japanese stuff is other white guys that have been doing it longer." "You have to engage with people... it's a new community and you have to treat people with the same respect you would in real life." "Something was ignited in me that I haven't felt in a long time, and I think I needed it." Stay Connected: Chats & Tatts: Website: http://www.chatsandtatts.com⁠ Tik Tok: https://www.tiktok.com/@chatsandtatts  IG: http://www.instagram.com/chatsandtatts Chats & Tatts YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/c/chatsandtatts Connect with Aaron:⁠   Aaron IG:⁠ http://www.instagram.com/aarondellavedova⁠ Guru Tattoo: http://www.Gurutattoo.com Connect with Chris: IG: https://www.instagram.com/chriscrookstattoo      

It's Grit Week and we're in Baltimore ready to hit the road. We're crammed on the RV and recap our meet and greet with the Baltimore AWL's. We talk some training camp news, Hank's UFC review and other sports stories (00:00:00-00:22:25). Who's back of the week including Jokic crying about his horses and more (00:22:25-00:34:33). Mt Rushmore of things that begin with G (00:34:33-00:53:02). Charles Barkley joins the show to talk Grit, what he expects with the switch to ESPN, his golf game, the Dream Team, getting soap stuck up his ass, Vaseline in his belly, gambling and tons more (00:53:02-01:36:02). We finish with a review of Happy Gilmore 2 (01:36:02-01:44:09)You can find every episode of this show on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or YouTube. Prime Members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. For more, visit barstool.link/pardon-my-take

RUNDOWN   Episode 344 of Mitch Unfiltered opens with a humorous lament over the nonexistence of a 344 area code and quickly shifts into cultural reflection—from Morgan Wallen's massive Seattle shows to a heartfelt tribute to late jazz musician Chuck Mangione. Mitch and Hotshot Scott marvel at Ichiro Suzuki's eloquent, humorous, and emotional Hall of Fame speech, calling it mesmerizing and long overdue. Mitch and Hotshot dig into the Mariners' playoff hopes and trade deadline calculus. They debate the potential impact of acquiring Gino Suarez—Seattle fan favorite and current Diamondbacks slugger—and analyze Josh Naylor's recent addition to the lineup. Investment advisor and father of four, John Wasnock of North Bend, WA, stunned the poker world by finishing second in the 2025 World Series of Poker Main Event, earning a $6 million prize. A lifelong poker hobbyist and devoted Mariners fan, Wasnock's dream run began as a bucket-list entry and ended in financial freedom — allowing him and his wife to retire and focus on family. Despite losing a pivotal hand on the river, Wasnock played with composure and integrity, becoming a beloved underdog in the process. Brady Farkas joins Mitch Unfiltered to reflect on Ichiro Suzuki's powerful, funny, and fully English Hall of Fame speech in Cooperstown—calling it the best he's heard. Despite the celebratory weekend, the Mariners' on-field play disappointed, as they went 3–4 and squandered chances to gain ground in the playoff race. Trade deadline buzz surrounds players like Luke Raley and Geno Suarez, while Julio Rodríguez and Cal Raleigh give fans reasons to stay hopeful. Mitch and Jason Puckett (aka "Puck") dive into Chapter 10 of KJAren'ts, with plenty of laughs and commentary. Mitch shares how cohost Hotshot Scott somehow always has the perfect contact—including a North Bend native who just won $6 million as runner-up at the World Series of Poker. They also unpack the Seahawks' surprise release of Noah Fant and speculate on Seattle's thin wide receiver room heading into the season.   GUESTS   John Wasnock | Financial Investment Advisor Turned Poker Sensation Brady Farkas | Host, Refuse to Lose Podcast (Mariners on SI) Jason Puckett | Radio Host, KJ-Aren'ts & PuckSports.com   TABLE OF CONTENTS   0:00 | Ichiro's Hall of Fame Speech, North Bend Poker Star, and a Chuck Mangione Tribute Mark 26:08 | Mariners Trade Deadline Math, Gino's Bat, and a Poker Cinderella from North Bend 41:00 | GUEST: John Wasnock; North Bend Dad Wins $6M, Finishes Second at World Series of Poker. 1:09:43 | GUEST: Mariners No-Table, Brady Farkas; Ichiro Shines in Cooperstown, Mariners Struggle on the Field 1:41:00 | GUEST: KJ-Aren'ts [Jason Puckett] Seattle Poker Cinderella, Seahawks Cuts, and the Marvel That Is Hotshot 1:56:03 | Other Stuff Segment: Adam Sandler's Netflix relationship and comedy legacy, Carl Weathers' intended involvement before his passing, Netflix's approach to greenlighting sequels (e.g., Beverly Hills Cop, Hubie Halloween), Seahawks Training Camp 2025 opens at VMAC, Kenny McIntosh injury (likely ACL, out for season), Washington Commanders stadium deal at old RFK site and political implications (President's statement about renaming to Redskins), Will Levis shoulder surgery; Cam Ward to start for Titans, Shilo Sanders (son of Deion) gets no first-team reps in Browns camp but takes the high road, Scotty Scheffler's British Open win, TaylorMade under fire for Photoshopping Scheffler's hairline in post-win ad, John Daly appearances at Augusta Hooters ended due to Hooters bankruptcy/closure, Barry Bonds' 756th home plate auctioned ($132,000), Cubs fan falls into net trying to get a home run ball at Wrigley Field, Bill Self (Kansas basketball coach) recovering after heart surgery, Caitlin Clark's rookie card sells for $660,000, most ever for a women's sports card, Uber launches “Women Preferred” mode for drivers and riders for added safety, Chuck E. Cheese arrest, RIPs / Obituaries; Hulk Hogan, legendary pro wrestler (notable moments: WrestleMania III, Thunderlips in Rocky III), Ozzy Osbourne (Black Sabbath frontman and solo icon), Malcolm-Jamal Warner (Theo Huxtable on The Cosby Show) — note: likely fictional as of now, Headlines; Serial butt sniffer arrested in Burbank, NY ad exec pees off rooftop bar in Florida, Man amputates penis after injecting Vaseline-type substance

Dave and Chuck the Freak talk about a wasp landing on a reporter during a live report, roller coaster failure, 3 teen girls parasailing over sharks, guy has microchipped himself, how many Americans admit to having peed in a pool as an adult?, woman with 14k lbs of trash and human waste saved, woman nearly hits people with car after dispute outside of store, sewage backup in Golden Nugget hotel room, gator grabs Florida woman’s hand, Florida gator man, Watch King tased and robbed, lost dog wandered into a public pool, Chuck Mangione preamble, Dave smells like Hulk Hogan, Savannah Bananas player faceplanted on TV trying to do backflip, little leaguer who was suspended for flipping bat will get to play, photographer faked falling into water during Cleveland Browns event, RIP Hulk Hogan, HR mistress from kiss cam scandal resigned, Fantastic Four opening, Vanessa Kirby gets handsy with Pedro Pascal, Harry Styles selling sex toys, Fat Joe drinks a lot of Diet Pepsi, man sniffed woman’s butt in department store, perv broke into homes of women, personal trainer busted taping people, on-duty cop gets car washed at strip club carwash, guy in Chuck E. Cheese mascot busted stealing credit cards, police looking for guy suspect who escaped while cop guarding him fell asleep, man injected Vaseline into dong, fisting tattoo, Ask Dave & Chuck The Freak, in-laws found their sex dungeon, can a pet sitter ask client out on date?, dating a girl who orders from kids menu, and more! This episode of Dave & Chuck is brought to you in part by Profluent http://bit.ly/4fhEq5l

07-24-25 - Operation Hydration Update - Emailer Took Class On What Makes Successful Show - BR Emails In Calling John Out For Being Gay - Sounding Bowl Instructor Invited Us All To A Class - BoCox Is A New Trend Of Injecting Vaseline Into Your PenisSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

07-24-25 - Operation Hydration Update - Emailer Took Class On What Makes Successful Show - BR Emails In Calling John Out For Being Gay - Sounding Bowl Instructor Invited Us All To A Class - BoCox Is A New Trend Of Injecting Vaseline Into Your PenisSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We're celebrating our 10th anniversary all year by digging in the vaults to re-present classic episodes with fresh commentary. Today, we're revisiting our 2023 conversation with Robert De Leo of Stone Temple Pilots. ABOUT ROBERT DE LEORobert De Leo is best known for his work in Stone Temple Pilots. Collaborating with lyricist and vocalist Scott Weiland, Robert wrote or co-wrote the music for many of the group's classic songs, including “Plush,” “Creep,” “Wicked Garden,” “Vaseline,” “Interstate Love Song,” “Big Bang Baby,” “Down,” “Hollywood Bitch,” and “Between the Lines.” Outside of their music in Stone Temple Pilots, Robert and his brother Dean have also written and recorded songs for their band Talk Show, as well as Army of Anyone, which is a collaboration with Filter frontman Richard Patrick. Since the death of Weiland and subsequent lead singer Chester Bennington, the De Leo brothers and drummer Eric Kretz continue to make music as Stone Temple Pilots with current vocalist Jeff Gutt. At the time of our conversation, Robert had released his debut solo album, Lessons Learned, a deeply personal collection of original songs. Featuring a handful of guest singers, it's a different sound than listeners might expect from De Leo, exploring the vibes of Laurel Canyon, Americana, roots music, and a healthy dose of one of Robert's musical heroes, Glen Campbell. In this episode you'll hear a lot of great new music and gain a deeper appreciation for some of the amazing Stone Temple Pilots catalog as Robert grabs his guitar and breaks down some of those classics in mind-blowing depth. This is one of our favorite Songcraft conversations, and you definitely won't want to miss it. 

In this episode of the SheerLuxe x LuxeGen Podcast in partnership with Vaseline. Charlotte Collins is joined by Lu Hough, Sapna Rao and Lola Lawlor to chat all things summer - from secret holiday spots and off-the-grid beach clubs to fashion formulas that work every time.They also share the summer skincare heroes they swear by - including their not-so-secret weapon: Vaseline Gluta-Hya Serum Burst Lotion, the lightweight body serum range they're all loving this season.Whether you're jetting off or staying local, expect glow-boosting tips, packing advice and plenty of inspiration to help you say-HYA to summer!AD | Vaseline | https://www.vaseline.com/uk/home.html Subscribe For More | http://bit.ly/2VmqduQ Get SheerLuxe Straight To Your Inbox, Daily | http://sheerluxe.com/signup PANEL GUESTSCharlotte Collins | @charlotteleahcollins | https://tinyurl.com/2pbzabfp Lu Hough | @lu.hough | https://www.instagram.com/lu.hough/?hl=en Lola Lawlor | @lolalawlor | https://www.instagram.com/lolalawlor/?hl=en Sapna Rao | @sapna_rao | https://www.instagram.com/sapna_rao/?hl=en PRODUCTSVaseline Gluta-Hya Serum Burst Lotion Dewy Radiance | https://tinyurl.com/355755ua Vaseline Gluta-Hya Serum Burst Lotion Overnight Radiance | https://tinyurl.com/37k9vrpx Vaseline Gluta-Hya Serum Burst Lotion Flawless Bright | https://tinyurl.com/2z6mj5yh Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

On this week's episode I am in Conversation with Anele Maphanga who is a PR maven. This episode highlights the versatility of the careers one can pursue with a law degree. After graduating with an LLB from the University of the Witwatersrand, Anele decided to pivot into communications, which was a long-life dream! Her work experience includes working for leading agencies and at FMCG giants such as Procter & Gamble and Unilever which has seen her lead award-winning campaigns recognized at the EFFIES, MMA Smarties, Loeries and SABRE Awards - and has been featured on the Global Citizen stage in New York for her #BloodSisters campaign for the Always sanitary pad brand.I am enamored by how Anele places God at the centre of her personal and professional life, and also how she doesn't just deliver messages on behalf of brands but truly uses her talent to tell a story based on truth and accuracy. Anele is a PR Maven with a gift for story-telling and building relationships. An avid read and writer, she has co-authored two books and has several articles under her belt across various publications in South Africa which include Sunday Times, Bizcommunity, Daily Maverick. She is currently the PR Lead for Beauty, Wellbeing and Personal Care for Unilever South Africa managing top brands such as Vaseline, Dove, Shield, Lifebuoy, Axe and many more leading brand communications and ground-breaking PR campaigns.I hope you enjoy learning from Anele as much as I did. Don't forget to subscribe, engage and share this episode with all your loved ones.

Episode 303: 07/14/2025 This week's highlights include Trevor asking to speak to a manager, Shags wanting to do a 72 hour fast, naming your kid after Vaseline, and more. The Best of the Morning Shag with Shags and Trevor 5:30a to 10a on 96.7 KCMQ Classic Rock in Mid-Missouri.

Start your morning with Kevin and Alex's signature mix of banter, weather, headlines, and hot takes on current events. In this episode, the duo dives into: A record-breaking July morning chill (43°F!) Wildfire fallout and political red tape in California Obama's guest spot on Michelle's podcast and the debate about masculinity The creeping plague of "swimmer's itch" in Minnesota lakes Listener texts, local happenings, and plenty of sarcasm with a side of sass From serious commentary on federal incompetence to light-hearted debates about tanning oil vs. Vaseline, it's a rollercoaster ride only the “Need to Know Morning Show” can deliver. ⏱️ Standout Timestamps: 0:00 – 2:00 — Morning show intro + “Moxie Java” coffee shout-out 2:41 —

In today's episode of Tech Talks Daily, I sat down with Alberto Prado, Head of Digital and Partnerships for R&D at Unilever, to explore how one of the world's largest consumer goods companies is reimagining innovation using AI. And not just in theory or in labs. This is technology already transforming the stuff most of us use every single day. From Dove body wash to Knorr stock cubes, Unilever products reach more than 3.4 billion people globally. That scale makes their R&D choices deeply relevant to how we live. What stood out in this conversation is how deeply integrated AI has become across their research efforts. This isn't about one flashy pilot project. Unilever currently runs over 400 AI initiatives across areas like microbiome science, biotechnology, and next-generation materials. Each one is focused on improving product performance, making items more sustainable, or creating personalized experiences for consumers. Alberto shared how Unilever's decades-long microbiome research is being accelerated through machine learning and high-performance computing. With over 30 terabytes of data and more than 100 patents, the company now holds one of the largest collections of human microbiome data in the world. That insight has directly influenced products like Dove and Vaseline and has led to innovations like the POND'S Microbiome Analyzer, which offers personalized skincare recommendations within an hour. In the field of biotechnology, Unilever is working with partners like Arzeda to create enzymes that outperform traditional cleaning agents, all while being more sustainable. A great example is the breakthrough behind RhamnoClean technology in Sunlight dishwashing liquid. By mimicking natural fermentation processes, Unilever can now produce bio-based surfactants that clean effectively, reduce water use, and are kinder to the planet. We also discussed how AI-driven virtual testing is replacing thousands of physical prototypes. This shift is helping Unilever rapidly develop new products like the Wonder Wash laundry detergent and Knorr's Zero Salt Cube. Alberto explained how digital models can simulate everything from stain removal in different wash cycles to how a cube holds together without salt, long before any physical version is made. And then there's the R&D Assistant, Unilever's own AI-powered co-pilot built in partnership with Microsoft. It connects over 150,000 scientific documents from across a century of research, letting scientists query insights in natural language. For Unilever's 5,000 researchers, it's not just a time saver. It's changing how they discover, collaborate, and innovate. This episode is a window into how legacy companies can drive transformation from within. Innovation isn't just happening in new industries or through startup culture.  Sometimes it's happening inside a washing machine cycle or a bottle of shampoo. So the question is, what can other large-scale enterprises learn from the way Unilever is scaling AI across its entire product development ecosystem?

In this episode of the Fresh Fiction Video Book Club, we're joined by bestselling author Jessica Anya Blau to chat all about her charming and cheeky new novel SHOPGIRLS. Inspired by her real-life days working the sales floor at I. Magnin, Jessica shares the wild truth behind the dressing rooms, the legendary salesladies, and the unexpected heart at the center of retail life. We talk favorite cosmetics counter memories, writing with humor and depth, and even the Vaseline-on-shoes trick. Plus, we dive into her experience adapting books into screenplays and meeting her personal icon—Judy Blume! Grab your coffee (or your night cream), this is a conversation you won't want to miss.

In this in-studio Parenting is a Joke fav episode, Ophira Eisenberg sits down with comedian, Daily Show correspondent, and guest host Desi Lydic to talk parenting, performing, and prompter disasters. Desi recounts the surreal moment her Daily Show hosting debut began with a backwards teleprompter—and how the audience's reaction helped her recover instantly. They talk about raising thoughtful boys in today's world, from navigating gender norms and emotional literacy to Desi's personal favorite parenting guru (spoiler: it's Dr. Becky). Desi opens up about auditioning for The Daily Show while four months pregnant and the support she received from the show's female leadership. She shares what it's like juggling her son's passion for NBA jerseys, Pokemon trades gone shady at after-school care, and managing the “mental load” of parenting—even with a very involved husband. Plus: how her Southern Republican parents record every Daily Show appearance, and why her son yelling “Big Daddy!” at school was a much bigger problem than any F-bomb. Also: yes, she'd rather her son be a boxer than an NRA exec—as long as she gets to Vaseline his face before the fight.

Send us a textAt the end of the day, we're just girls! Giving you my best hacks to make girlhood easier, and sharing YOUR best hacks too. I'm talking Vaseline on spots you put your perfume so it lasts longer, dry shampoo at night instead of in the morning, menstrual discs, and much more.My fitness app:https://my.playbookapp.io/sophia-panellaAdd your stories you want shared on Bestie Tales here: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdSn6Ve05j7j3iDR195rX7Abu27Mn3LpO12Q9ahAGEuWLITcQ/viewform?usp=pp_urlCoaching Course:https://level-up-u.teachable.com/p/online-fitness-coaching-courseGina's Personal Training: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSeDavd0_tNloyNOLPCTY3lqeRU0WYvBEWKfhffmtDKu7jRt4Q/viewform?usp=pp_urlLexi's Hormone Health Coaching: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdAOV4ANiQiEIBg9DzvRxxXojasbYDEKtJPVC2Gw2ak4PrzaA/viewform?usp=pp_url

Day three at Camp Cannes was anything but chill. Between panels, croissants, and one unfortunate pre-dessert cheese incident, the BarkleyOKRP crew dug into work that went deep and got people talking—like balloon installations spotlighting teen mental health and a Vaseline hackathon turned influencer marketplace. The crew tackled AI anxiety, risk-taking brands, and the power of […]

This week on Drew Blood's Dark Tales… When a battle-hardened hitman stumbles into a nightmare no bullet can solve, salvation arrives from the most unlikely of allies: a bickering Southern couple armed with nothing but attitude, holy Vaseline, and a trailer full of bad decisions. From the outrageous mind of P.D. Williams comes a horror-comedy caper soaked in grit, guts, and gasoline, where the undead walk, mobsters mumble, and every bad idea leads to an even worse miracle. Strap in for “Craig's Gangster”—an explosive blend of the profane and the paranormal, where the living aren't the only ones with a score to settle. If the horror doesn't get you, the laughter just might. Two stories. Two different kinds of dread. Both will leave you checking over your shoulder long after the credits roll. In this special double feature, master of the unsettling Ambrose Ibsen invites you into two very different nightmares. First, a simple evening walk turns into something far more disturbing when strange patterns emerge in an otherwise ordinary apartment complex. Then, we descend into the forbidden depths of obsession, faith, and the monstrous consequences that can arise when one dares to peer too deeply beyond the veil of human understanding. To watch the podcast on YouTube: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠http://bit.ly/ChillingEntertainmentYT⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Don't forget to subscribe to the podcast for free wherever you're listening or by using this link: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://bit.ly/HorrorHillPodcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ If you like the show, telling a friend about it would be amazing! You can text, email, Tweet, or send this link to a friend: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://bit.ly/HorrorHillPodcast⁠ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

This week on Drew Blood's Dark Tales… When a battle-hardened hitman stumbles into a nightmare no bullet can solve, salvation arrives from the most unlikely of allies: a bickering Southern couple armed with nothing but attitude, holy Vaseline, and a trailer full of bad decisions. From the outrageous mind of P.D. Williams comes a horror-comedy caper soaked in grit, guts, and gasoline, where the undead walk, mobsters mumble, and every bad idea leads to an even worse miracle. Strap in for “Craig's Gangster”—an explosive blend of the profane and the paranormal, where the living aren't the only ones with a score to settle. If the horror doesn't get you, the laughter just might. To watch the podcast on YouTube: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠http://bit.ly/ChillingEntertainmentYT⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Don't forget to subscribe to the podcast for free wherever you're listening or by using this link: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://bit.ly/DrewBlood⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ If you like the show, telling a friend about it would be amazing! You can text, email, Tweet, or send this link to a friend: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://bit.ly/DrewBlood Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Our guest today is Hayden, who is a professional carpet cleaner He also does rugs, and upholstery. In this episode you will find answers to some absolutely massive questions, things that impact us all. Such as - does white wine ACTUALLY clean a red wine stain? What is definitively the best brand of vacuum cleaner? And can you set fire to Vaseline? We also do a mental tour of Joe's house, and try to work out why every single room seems to have issues with the carpet. If you would like to be a guest on the show, ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠click here⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ To get ad-free and longer episodes on Apple, hit the 'grow the show' button or ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠click here⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ On Spotify you can subscribe for £1 a week by clicking ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠this link⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ To become an official sponsor, go to ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Patreon.com/thingspeopledo⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ To grow the show on socials, look for @thingspeoplepod on Instagram, Twitter and TikTok If you'd like to enquire about commercial partnerships with our podcast, email Ryan Bailey ryanb@crowdnetwork.co.uk Music courtesy of BMG Production Music Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

00:00:00 - Discussion about AI Songs and Naked Man in Shed The episode opens with technical hiccups and updates on new AI song packs created by the hosts. They discuss a bizarre news story about a naked man found in a Lowe's display shed with Vaseline and a telephone, inspiring a new AI song called "Don't Look in the Shed." 00:10:00 - Alex Jones Clips and Jeremy Renner Teaser Debut of the AI song “Don't Look in the Shed,” filled with humorous and grunge-inspired lyrics. A roundup of Alex Jones' wildest clips of the week. A Steven Seagal-style preview introduces upcoming topics: Jeremy Renner's near-death experience, DMT entities, haunted dolls, Ohio marijuana legislation, AI homework tools, and alien spheres. 00:20:00 - Jeremy Renner's Spiritual Awakening Renner shares how his near-death accident changed his view on life, describing a peaceful, out-of-body experience. Emphasis on spiritual growth and valuing love over material things. Conversation shifts toward DMT as a possible bridge to the afterlife. 00:30:00 - Guide to DMT Entities Breakdown of various DMT entities reported by users: machine elves, clowns, angels, demons, reptilians, and spirit guides. Speculation about whether these entities exist outside the mind or are purely internal hallucinations. Stats from research showing most users encounter intelligent, often benevolent beings. 00:40:00 - Machine Elf Queen and Reptilians Vivid account of a user's encounter with a voluptuous, green-skinned machine elf queen. Discussion about insectoid and reptilian entities during DMT trips that resemble alien abductions. Stories blur lines between alien encounters and psychedelic experiences. 00:50:00 - Jesus, Pets, and the Afterlife on DMT Encounters with “Space Jesus,” dead pets, and deceased relatives during DMT trips. Some users describe transformative emotional healing and major life changes. Link made between DMT visions and alien abduction experiences involving spirits of the dead. 01:00:00 - Alien Sphere Found in Colombia Analysis of a metallic orb recovered in Colombia, believed by some to be alien. Sphere has no welds, strange engravings interpreted using AI, and alleged circuitry inside. Theorized as a surveillance drone or part of an ancient defense grid. 01:10:00 - Haunted Dolls and Giant GPS Genitals Panic over the haunted doll Annabelle going missing is debunked. Review of GPS "penis art" created by fitness enthusiasts running elaborate routes. Consideration of whether this qualifies as performance art or absurdist satire. 01:20:00 - Harvard Body Part Trafficking Network Ongoing story of stolen human remains from Harvard Medical School's morgue. Deep dive into how parts were sold and how widespread the black market really is. Compilation of previous similar stories from 2019 to present. 01:30:00 - DIY Crosswalk Hero Arrested A man in Virginia paints his own crosswalk for pedestrian safety but is arrested. Discussed alongside other vigilante efforts like pothole filling and guerrilla street art. Commentary on local government inefficiency and citizen action. 01:40:00 - Japan Cracks Down on Baby Names Japan enacts new laws banning eccentric names like Pikachu and Caesar. Aimed at protecting children's well-being and social integration. Also covered: passenger attempts to open plane door mid-flight, prompting emergency landing. 01:50:00 - Kansas City: Global Capital of Dog Semen Kansas City is revealed to be the number one global hub for the storage and transportation of dog semen. The region is part of the Animal Health Corridor, which stretches from Manhattan, Kansas to Columbia, Missouri, home to 56% of the U.S. animal health diagnostics and pet food sales. Companies in the corridor conduct R&D and manage massive semen storage for horses, pigs, cattle, dogs, and more.   Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research ▀▄▀▄▀ CONTACT LINKS ▀▄▀▄▀ ► Phone: 614-388-9109 ► Skype: ourbigdumbmouth ► Website: http://obdmpod.com ► Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/obdmpod ► Full Videos at Odysee: https://odysee.com/@obdm:0 ► Twitter: https://twitter.com/obdmpod ► Instagram: obdmpod ► Email: ourbigdumbmouth at gmail ► RSS: http://ourbigdumbmouth.libsyn.com/rss ► iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/our-big-dumb-mouth/id261189509?mt=2  

We're doing a quick allergy q&a today! Because even though there's been some personal travel lately, I still wanted to say hello! It's a shorty but a goodie. Let's get into it.What You'll Learn in This Episode:✔️ Why dry, itchy eyes get worse in allergy season—and 2 ways to support them from the inside out✔️ The Vaseline-in-your-nose trick—is it helpful or hype?✔️ My most underrated tip for allergy relief (hint: it's not a supplement)✔️ A natural option for eye drops that I keep in my own kit✔️ Today's feel-good thing✔️ The one thing your body needs more of when pollen is in the airSee you soon!

This week, host Jane Marie talks to licensed esthetician, writer, and co-founder of the skincare brand Dieux Skin, Charlotte Palermino. Together, they try and suss out the topsy turvy world of beauty and skincare. Anyone know what skincare ingredients are actually good for your skin? Are all the parabins and petrolatums and chemical sunscreens really bad for us, or is it all just marketing? I'll give you a hint, It's all just marketing. Oh, and Charlotte gives Dann a free skin consult, soooooooo......To find more from Charlotte and Dieux Skin:Instagram: @charlotteparlerTikTok: @charlotteparlerDieux Skin: dieuxskin.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Oh boy! Where do we begin? Show got away from us QUICKLY! Brrr-Brrr! // GAS remote at News & Brews at Bravery Brewery! Combating mosquitoes with mosquitoes! Sterilizing male mosquitoes #mosquitoes #AnkleBiters // I'll be at the Queen Mary June 4th at 12 go to EventBrite.com to buy tickets. FAA more outages. Pilot passes out while the co-pilot was in the bathroom.//  A new study suggests 75% of sunscreens are not safe or effective. Did you sun with baby oil & Vaseline when you were younger? #Sunscreen #BabyOil  

Greg Warren called to talk about his special The Champ which is out today on Nate Bargatze's NateLand free on Youtube. The significance of May 16. National Barbecue Day arrives just as the country begins to ease into summer.TikToker claims this hack on meat will slash your grocery bill.Krispy Kreme pauses nationwide doughnut rollout with McDonald's.KFC And McDonald's Are Going To War Over Chicken Strips.83-year-old crashes into Nanuet bank, twice. What are NY rules for elderly drivers?Man gets 20th impaired driving arrest while allegedly driving drunk in Ohio.Bizarre moment woman in BMW ignores cop and tries to drive through street festival to get to work.Nebraska man facing two felonies for allegedly attacking neighbor, 7-year-old with lightsaber.Police find naked man in Lowe's display shed with Vaseline and phone.Woman busted with 43 pounds of marijuana at St. Louis airport.Igloo Recalls More Than One Million 90 Quart Rolling Coolers Due to Fingertip Amputation and Crushing Hazards.Follow us @RizzShow @MoonValjeanHere @KingScottRules @LernVsRadio @IamRafeWilliams - Check out King Scott's Linktr.ee/kingscottrules + band @FreeThe2SG and Check out Moon's bands GREEK FIRE @GreekFire GOLDFINGER @GoldfingerMusic THE TEENAGE DIRTBAGS @TheTeenageDbags and Lern's band @LaneNarrows ⁠http://www.1057thepoint.com/RizzSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Don't forget the Vaseline!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Police find naked man in Lowe's display shed with Vaseline and phone. Airline accidentally serves wine to toddler traveling in business class.Woman divorces husband after ChatGPT reads his coffee grounds and predicts affair. // SUPPORT by joining the Weird AF News Patreon http://patreon.com/weirdafnews - OR buy Jonesy a coffee at http://buymeacoffee.com/funnyjones Buy MERCH: https://weirdafnews.merchmake.com/ - Check out the official website https://WeirdAFnews.com and FOLLOW host Jonesy at http://instagram.com/funnyjones

Kanye has topped himself again, but not in a good way Some crazy and weird details have emerged from the Diddy trial Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr. raised eyebrows after he posted photos of himself swimming in a creek contaminated with sewage and high levels of bacteria on Sunday. Suspect caught naked with Vaseline inside a shed at Slidell Lowe's store, police report Alleged 'Delco Pooper' Cops Say She Told Them Her Poop Was Clean ...'I Didn't Even Have to Wipe' Jessica Simpson revealed that she drinks a concoction containing snake sperm, at the recommendation of her vocal coach, to help her singing voice Rick Tocchet hired as Philadelphia Flyers head coach MLB removes Pete Rose, other deceased players from the permanently ineligible list Former West Deptford fire chief accused of possessing over 125,000 child sex abuse images New Jersey couple accused of abusing, confining child in dog crate and bathroom for years Kathy Romano Out At WMMR

This week on Two Queens, Two Crowns, we're talking about two of the most iconic models in fashion history: Tyra Banks and Naomi Campbell. From their parallel rise as trailblazing supermodels to that unforgettable showdown on The Tyra Banks Show, we're unpacking how the industry pitted these women against each other, the way race and representation shaped their careers, and why Tyra's Vaseline giveaways and Naomi's disinfecting wipes will always live rent-free in our minds.Subscribe for monthly bonus episodes:https://patreon.com/2Queens2CrownsJoin the conversation:TikTok -⁠@2queens2crowns⁠,⁠@iam_kjmiller⁠, @leta_bitchknow⁠YouTube -⁠2 Queens 2 Crowns⁠IG:⁠@kjmiller, ⁠⁠@letabknow References:From The Cut - I Made a Whopping $27.75 Selling Tyra Banks Beauty Products:https://www.thecut.com/2016/06/tyra-banks-beautytainer.htmlThe Original Supermodels:https://www.the-independent.com/life-style/fashion/super-models-vogue-cover-naomi-cindy-b2392006.htmlNaomi keeping her airplane seat clean:https://www.tiktok.com/@trippin/video/7370827628829297953The Episode of The Tyra Show with Naomi:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=516JwxaFVy4

Celeb makeup artist extraordinaire Ash K. Holm joins us this week! The Los Angeles-based pro's ability to create glam looks and glowing skin have endeared her to famous clients like Ariana Grande, Lindsay Lohan and Khloe Kardashian – and she's often spotted behind the scenes on The Kardashians on Hulu. Frequently tapped by brands like Vaseline, Morphe and Kiss Lashes, Ash is sharing all of her tips on how-to create a face lift effect using only the magic of makeup in today's can't miss episode.Tune in to hear about:How Ash uses under eye skin care patches as a “cheat” to achieve a lifted eye makeup lookThe drugstore hair product that she loves to use to get even the straightest eyebrow hairs to stay-in-placeHow-to pinpoint conceal for a lifted lip look Ash's absolute fave finishing powder to nix shine while keeping the “snatch” going all day Bookmark these! The makeup artist's no-fail contour tones, the surprising bronzer-in-a-box shade that she's giving a second life to and the affordable brush brand that she stocks up on Psssst: Watch (and subscribe!) to this episode on our YouTube so you can see everything Ash is talking about! Get social with us and let us know what you think of the episode! Find us on Instagram, Tiktok, Twitter. Join our private Facebook group, or give us a call and leave us a voicemail at 1-844-227-0302. Subscribe to our Substack here To shop products or links mentioned in this episode, check out our website: https://breakingbeautypodcast.com/episode-recaps/ Related episodes like this: WATCH: Makeup By Mario on The Soft Glam Era, Game-Changing Makeup Hacks and Is He Writing a Book?!WATCH: Trendless, Ageless Everyday Makeup Secrets Revealed with Look Good, Feel Good Makeup Artist Katey DennoWATCH: Meghan Markle's Makeup Artist: Spring Makeup Tutorial & Trends from Daniel Martin!

Mastitis is not Metritis is not PyometraDr. Marty Greer joins host Laura Reeves to walk through the differentials in diagnosing possible infections in the breeding bitch, including mastitis, metritis and pyometra.“There's a lot of reasons that postpartum bitches can run a fever. So I think it's a really good topic because when you go to the vet or if you know if you're calling for a vet appointment or you're getting to the vet, it can be a little more muddy than you think it should be.“Before you call your vet with a sick postpartum bitch, take her temperature. Please take her temperature because the second thing the receptionist is going to ask you is what's her temperature? And you'll be like, I don't know, I can't find my thermometer. So have a thermometer dedicated to the dog, have a jar of Vaseline, and be sure that you've taken it and written it down. Because by the time your postpartum bitch is sick, you are stressed, you are tired, and you can barely remember your own name. So write down the stuff.“How are the puppies doing? Are they gaining weight? Losing weight? Are they sick? Because there is a big difference. Both metritis and mastitis can cause the puppies to be sick as well. Because the bitch is sick. So mastitis is inflammation and infection of the mammary glands, and metritis is inflammation and infection of the uterus to be differentiated from pyometra.“The top two differentials are always going to be metritis: infection of the uterus, inflammation of the uterus, and mastitis: infection, inflammation of the mammary glands. Now, just because the mammary glands are firm does not mean the bitch has mastitis. And just because the mammary glands are firm does not mean you automatically slam her on antibiotics.”Marty continues with a complete discussion of metritis (within 24-48 hours of whelping), mastitis (not exclusively, but commonly 3-4 weeks post whelping) and pyometra which generally occurs when a bitch is not in whelp and normally is not accompanied by a fever.Remember, if you enjoy our conversations, check out our new show! Recorded for you, your puppy buyers, your non-doggy friends and your cousin's uncle's girlfriend, the show is designed to reach the general pet owning public with reliable accurate information in an accessible format.

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