Podcasts about yelping

Happy Halloween! Even David “Wooooo” Waldman and Greg “Disquieting” Dworkin can't scare us any more than we already are. For Halloween, Donald Trump appeared in Wisconsin sporting his unwiped butthole face accessorized by a reflective vest and came so tantalizingly close to falling on his head before taking a ride in a garbage truck… in the front this time. Garbage-Man, Garbage-Man! Toss him into that garbage can. Blocking peen, any size, MAGA eats it up, just like flies! Look out! Here comes the Garbage-Man! But wait… what do the polls say? They say it's a close one, and about 10 people's votes will count. Ah, but which 10 is now the question, eh? It's time for some 19th Amendment solutions for our problems. More than half of us will vote before election day, with some surprising niches backing Kamala Harris, like Arnold Schwarzenegger! Who knows who will pop up tomorrow, but they probably won't be for Donald Trump. KITM Senior Amenities Correspondent Darwin Darko is not positively Yelping the Kamala Harris Eclipse overflow space experience but figures it could be a sign of her campaign's overperformance. Kamala is getting a few Halloween treats, so Gops are working on some Mike Johnson tricks to even things out. Yet, they keep forgetting to leave the bag on the step when they light it on fire to run away. The Trump Supreme Court is fine tuning their voter disenfranchisement with 1600 voters tossed to them from Glenn Youngkin. Want to see something scary? Check out this North Carolina superintendent race.

The start of today's podcast gets a little serious as Terry seeks help and approval from Shari as he's about to embark on a big life change. They also discuss their very different thoughts on haters and a super sexy Dear Dumbs email.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Dave reports from Mexico and is joined (remotely) by Chris, where the duo discuss going to the doctor's office, Korean BBQ, and Yelping Yelpers. Hosts: Dave Chang and Chris Ying Producers: Victoria Valencia and Euno Lee Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

It's all gravy with Pat and Mags this week when Aunt Mo joins to talk mall jail, being joepiscopalian, borons, Yelping across Bethlehem, widdle babies, the Jacksonville Junkpile, short serfs, Tom Celica, tenured kids on the block, gazebos, leather legal guardians, and the ox and lamb. TW: further antagonizing flight attendants --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/the-babymakers/support

Dogs don't always say what they're feeling, so it's understandable why we want to know the reason why dogs yelp. Each sound our dog makes is crucial; it can signify hunger, distress, and pain. So it's no surprise our dogs' sudden yelping sounds can make us spring into protective, worrying mode. Yes, a yelping dog can be a dog in pain. But a dog letting out a high-pitched, petrifying sound isn't always a pained dog… and it's an essential truth owners should understand. Key Takeaways: Dogs yelp for various reasons, not always due to pain. It's important to discern the context of their yelping, which can indicate hunger, distress, or leadership struggles. Yelping during interactions with other dogs can be a way of establishing or conceding leadership, not necessarily a sign of pain. The concept of The Dog Calming Code emphasizes the importance of human leadership in a dog's life. By establishing themselves as the leader, owners can reduce dog fights and power struggles. BE THE LEADER YOUR DOG NEEDS WITH THE DOG CALMING CODE™️ Table of Contents: The Other Reason Why Dogs Yelp: For Dogs, It's All About Leadership Why Do Dogs Yelp During an Intense Interaction With Other Dogs Why Dogs Yelp Reason #1: Yelping is a Sound of Conceding Why Dogs Yelp Reason #2: Yelping is a Shock Factor to Make the Other Dog Stop Charging Why You Should Not Immediately Intervene Between Two Dogs in a Rumble Dealing with Dog Rumbles: When Do I Step In? The Doggy Dan Dog Calming Code: Becoming the Leader In Your Dog's Eyes… The Gentle Way The Other Reason Why Dogs Yelp: For Dogs, It's All About Leadership Here's a truth I truly embrace: dogs are all about the hierarchy. Knowing who leads and who follows is business #1.   When dogs meet, they first sort out leadership because dogs are BIG on leadership. (Thus, the reason for the creation of my popular course, The Dog Calming Code™️ , which you can learn more about below.) If you can observe two dogs that just met at the park, there's a high chance you'll catch them growling and seemingly testing the other. Eventually, they will engage in a brawl, a classic way of challenging one another. After a few minutes of commotion, everything gets back to normal. The two dogs fighting earlier will start to interact without any aggression. When two dogs stop fighting or challenging each other, they have already settled who the leader is and who the follower is. THE DOG CALMING CODE: THE #1 PROGRAM YOU NEED FOR CALMER, WELL-BEHAVED DOGS Why Do Dogs Yelp During an Intense Interaction With Other Dogs Where does yelping come in? Somewhere during the brawl, one of the dogs might let out a sharp cry. (Think: loud, human shriek). It's a sound that can make any dog owner spring to their feet. But here's what I want dog owners to know: a yelp isn't always an indication of pain. Of course, keep an eye on the dog fight and intervene when physical harm is involved. However, I encourage you to also assess the situation BEFORE immediately getting between two dogs. KNOW WHY THE DOG CALMING CODE IS TRUSTED BY OVER 88,000 DOG OWNERS Why? Because yelping can also mean two things: a.) It's a sound of conceding. b.) it's a shock factor to tell other dogs, “Stop chasing me. You win.” Why Dogs Yelp Reason #1: Yelping is a Sound of Conceding Dogs understand the value of leadership more than they show. Because of this reason, a dog will not back down until they've established themselves as the leader. However, the screaming will start when a dog sees they're at a disadvantage. The scream that they let out isn't always a scream of pain. When another dog pins them down, their scream can mean, “Okay, enough. You win. You're the leader!” It's like tapping out in a wrestling match, a sure way to communicate surrender. THE DOG CALMING CODE: THE ONLINE DOG TRAINING PROGRAM THAT CAN CHANGE DOG BEHAVIOR Why Dogs Yelp Reason #2: Yelping is a Shock Factor to Make the Other Dog Stop Charging To explain this part, I'm sharing the story of my two kids, Stanley and Sage. Like what children normally do, Stan and Sage would have really intense playtime that could end up in shrieks and cries. There was this one time where Sage, out of nowhere, let out a blood-curdling shriek. Of course, I was very worried. I dropped what I was doing and charged inside the house. “Sage, what did he do to you?” I asked my daughter. She simply said “Oh, nothing. I just didn't want him to catch me.” And it made sense to me! Screaming so loud can make another person think “Yep, that's it. They're over this. They're done. They won't be fighting anymore.” It's the same with dogs! A dog uses loud sounds to ward the other dogs off or to stop fights. An intense sound from your dog is not always an indication of pain, but a way to communicate defense against their strong opponent. CHANGE YOUR DOG'S BEHAVIOR THE RIGHT WAY WITH THE DOG CALMING CODE Why You Should Not Immediately Intervene Between Two Dogs in a Rumble Your dog let out a scream of pain… checking in on them and stopping the fight is the most sensible thing to do. I totally recommend intervening in a dog fight when signs of harm are evident (for example: blood and scratches). HOWEVER, YOU DON'T ALWAYS NEED TO GET IN THE WAY OF A DOG FIGHT. “But why, Doggy Dan?” It's because dogs ALWAYS want to sort out who leads the pack and who follows. When we intervene, we could also get in the way of dogs sorting the leadership issue out. PUPPY COACH: START TRAINING YOUR PUPPIES WITH THE PROGRAM THAT HAS HELPED THOUSANDS In a more dominant dog's mind, the other dog is still not conceding. The power struggle will still continue. There will be more chasing, fighting, screaming. Dealing with Dog Rumbles: When Do I Step In? If you're dealing with more frequent dog rumbles, I recommend being quick in observing the severity of the dog fight. We don't always need to get involved in the middle of the fight, BUT we still have to keep an eye on when the rumble becomes serious. When there are increased levels of aggression (forceful biting, blood, deep scratches), quickly stop the fight and place dogs on timeout if necessary to help them regulate their emotions. LEARN THE SECRETS OF CALMING DOGS DOWN WITH THE DOG CALMING CODE The Doggy Dan Dog Calming Code: Becoming the Leader In Your Dog's Eyes… The Gentle Way Knowing the other reason for a dog's yelp can help you not panic whenever you hear them make that sound. But here's the thing: if we can do away with that sound, it's so much better, right? If dogs stop fighting for dominance, you can rest your mind from dealing with constant fights! That's where The Dog Calming Code comes in. In your household, one leader should be in your dogs' eyes: YOU. When they see you wearing the hat of leadership, any aggression towards other dogs to establish dominance will be minimized. Power struggles between dogs will be lesser because every dog in the house know it's YOU who is in charge of the pack. I know that because I have seen tens of thousands of dog owners get over the problems involving dog fights and dogs hurting each other. THE DOG CALMING CODE: THE ONLINE DOG TRAINING PROGRAM THAT CAN CHANGE DOG BEHAVIOR All because the owners truly showed they are capable, strong, confident leaders their dogs can trust. Your dogs will no longer have to vie for leadership; with The Dog Calming Code, you already got it covered. If you want to learn more about The Dog Calming Code, click here. ~ Doggy Dan 

Welcome to a brand new episode of Shark's Pond: A South Park Podcast. Join Bill as this week he reviews the season nineteen episode "You're Not Yelping". Topics discussed include how many times Bill actually used Yelp, who really is the best Yelper in South Park and how to decide, what cartoon beat this episode for an Emmy and much more.Theme song courtesy of Joseph McDade https://josephmcdade.com/ Follow the show on Twitter https://twitter.com/sharkspond97 Join the shows Facebook group https://www.facebook.com/groups/sharkspond/

Description: Monica talks about taking risks, the rewards it can lead to and the importance of speaking truth to power. She shares her thoughts about why it is just as important to follow as lead and encourages listeners to “lead from their chair.” A little more about Monica: Monica Jasso is the Director of Engagement for Girl Scouts of the Desert Southwest encompassing West Texas and Southern New Mexico, for over 10 years. A proud Fronteriza, born in El Paso, Texas, she attended Texas A&M University, and finds purpose in advancing the mission of volunteerism to positively impact individuals and communities. Passionate about the art and science that create genuine volunteer experiences she is committed to viewing her personal and professional life through a lens of diversity, equity, inclusion and racial justice. A single mother of two bi-racial children, in her down time, she enjoys nature, hiking, reading, photography, traveling and Yelping about new foodie spots.She has earned a Certification in Volunteer Administration, which serves as evidence of experience and leadership in the field of volunteer management and is a 2022 recipient of the Association of Leaders in Volunteer Engagement (AL!VE) award that recognizes excellence in the profession of volunteer engagement.   Connect with Monica:Linkedin: linkedin.com/in/monicajasso915 Resources:The book referred to in the podcast: “See No Stranger, A Memoir and Manifesto of Revolutionary Love” by Valarie Kaur. Fabulous read.Learn more about how Nicole can help your volunteer program grow and flourish when you visitwww.nicolersmith.com

Hello listeners, and welcome to The City Report, Episode 010! On this week's episode the lads look back on a pulsating 2-2 draw against Liverpool, put the rivalry itself under the microscope, and more! If you enjoy the show, please consider following/subscribing on the platform of your choice! Follow us on Twitter! https://twitter.com/cityreport_ https://twitter.com/abooker17 https://twitter.com/AmosMurphy_

In the first Happy Hour of the New Year, Anna, Anthony and Michael decide to yelp-review our government and--spoiler alert--it did not receive a Michelin Star. The trio unpack the latest ups and downs of DC disfunction and riff on the state of the filibuster, what Congressional leaders are saying, or not saying, about Jan 6, and they also manage to unpack why Anna wasn't allowed to have McDonald's as a kid.

Today I had the pleasure of talking with Tim Campbell, owner of Cappy's Café in New Port Beach, CA. In this episode, Tim discusses restaurant acquisitions, technology, Yelping, food influencers and so much more! Join us for this awesome new episode! Check their website out -- https://www.cappyscafe.com/ Don't forget to subscribe if you enjoyed the show! Connect on Instagram – https://www.instagram.com/localleaderspodcastnc/ Connect on FaceBook -- https://www.facebook.com/LocalLeadersPodcast12

As 2021 lays gasping for breath we serve up a double helping of musical reviews! Santa Sleighs (2005) and Mercy Christmas (2018) get crammed in and we see if we're in for a Mr Creosote moment. Then, we hear about some terrifying toys

On this episode, Jose and Aerial are recovering from being social, or maybe just sick? (it's not Covid!) and the two have a series of weird dreams. Aerial is back […]

THIS EOISODE RAMOS TALKS ABOUT HIS BAD EXPERIENCES THAT MADE HIM HAVE TO WRITE 1 STAR REVIEWS ON YELP. HE ALSO READS OTHERS BY DIFFERENT CUSTOMERS WHO REVIEWED LOCAL ESTABLISHMENTS.

Movies…some are better than others, huh? But a summer movie is always at least a little fun. So we tell the stories of Muscle Beach Party and Summer Rental in a review style. Yelping with margarita. Google review with gluten-free beer. John Candy stepping on beachgoers. Frankie and Annette smoking cigarettes and jiggle dancing. Here's to summer! At low-effort content—where okay is okay—family and friends hang out, make stuff, and share it with you to celebrate curiosity and creativity in all kinds of ways. We'd love to hear from you. And you can hit our merch page to get things and support us.  Here are some of the shows you can listen to from low-effort content. Make Mine a Double Feature, where we have a few drinks and tell each other movie stories in all kinds of ways—like backwards or in the form of letters or from the POV of a side character. Kid. Dad. Songs. Yeah!, where my son and I talk about music, often by picking winners in a bracket. Trivial Television, where we recap TV episodes while sprinkling in facts, fictions, and trivia questions. Booyah 90s Now, where we break down what it's been like to live under the influence of 90s media. Trading Up!, where Rob loses a bunch of money trying to become a good stock trader. Thanks for hanging out. Thanks for listening to this. Take care.

On today's pod-snack, Myq talks about why there wasn't a pod-meal this weekend, because he was out of town for the first time since pre-pandemic. He recommends the used bookstore "Company of Books" in Virginia where he was. He also recommends the Arlington Cinema and Drafthouse where he performed. Thanks to all who are making comedy shows happen again as safely and healthily as possible!

Camping and meant to share this at the end of episode two. Epic fail!

Rob Law talks to people about the craziest tables they have ever had, talks with Jojo and name drops with Shawn. New Segment you're not Yelping and as always Ask Law.. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

Trigger Warning: Torture and child abuse. Kerry tells arguably one of the darkest stories we’ve covered, the abuse and murder of Sylvia Likens. If you can stick it out we will reward you with ghostly tales from the Stanley Hotel. https://www.patreon.com/trulydarklycreeply

THE PHENOMENON doc! We chat with Director JAMES FOX about his film which is now #1 in the world on ALL digital download platforms! F@ck it!! It’s HALLOWEEN time. Buckle up knuckle down & turn that frown upside backwards! We’re jumping face first through the rabbit hole! Till I say otherwise it’s ALL TALES FROM BEYOND THE VEIL ALL THE TIME! 

Yelp, the crowdsourcing business review website, wants to label businesses as “racists”. But, it’s who is teaming up with them to do this that is the real issue. Also, Mike Pompeo is releasing the Hillary Clinton “deleted” emails? Oh yes! Follow online : Twitter - @rantsoutloud and @ Also, follow on PARLER, GAB, CloutHub, and MEWE Check out the Podcast on iTunes, Soundcloud, Stitcher, Spreaker, Google Play Music, Tune-In App, iHeart Radio Get the Free Adrian Slade Show ROKU Channel.. Call to be on the show: 1-929-GO-GO-USA or at anchor.fm/adrianslade Please Donate to support the show- Anchor.fm/Adriansladeshow Sponsorships: on for this episode --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/adrianslade/support

Yelp, the crowdsourcing business review website, wants to label businesses as “racists”. But, it's who is teaming up with them to do this that is the real issue. Also, Mike Pompeo is releasing the Hillary Clinton “deleted” emails? Oh yes! Follow online : Twitter - @rantsoutloud and @ Also, follow on PARLER, GAB, CloutHub, and MEWE Check out the Podcast on iTunes, Soundcloud, Stitcher, Spreaker, Google Play Music, Tune-In App, iHeart Radio Get the Free Adrian Slade Show ROKU Channel.. Call to be on the show: 1-929-GO-GO-USA or at anchor.fm/adrianslade Please Donate to support the show- Anchor.fm/Adriansladeshow Sponsorships: on for this episode --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/adrianslade/support

F@ck it!! It’s HALLOWEEN time. Buckle up knuckle down & turn that frown upside backwards! We’re jumping face first through the rabbit hole! Till I say otherwise, it’s ALL TALES FROM BEYOND THE VEIL ALL THE TIME! With CHAMP 5D  (part 3)!

The message of Pastor Jim Crecelius for Sunday, August 16, 2020.Scripture read by Justine Williams. Matthew 15: 10-28.

Hear from three guests about how they've been dealing with the coronavirus shutdown. First, John Falco, the co-founder and president of Fire Pit Hospitality, which is the company behind Miami's Lincoln's Beard Brewery and Strange Beast, a brewpub and pizzeria. Next, you'll hear from Jason Schoendorfer. Jason and his wife Melanie own and operate Babe's Meat & Counter, a specialty meat retailer and sandwich shop in Miami. Finally, Diandra Lamas, Yelp's senior community manager for Miami, discusses the changes she's seen in both Miami businesses and consumer behavior on the street and on the Yelp platform during the coronavirus outbreak. Listen to John Falco's previous interview with Nick Jiménez on The DADE Podcast: http://www.dademag.com/features/2018/12/17/podcast-john-falco-lincolns-beard-brewing-miami-beer Become a patron: https://www.patreon.com/DADEmag Follow Pan Con Podcast everywhere: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/panconpodcast Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/panconpodcast Follow us on Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/panconpodcast Follow Mike Beltran: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/piginc Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/piginc Follow DADE: Support DADE on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/DADEmag Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DADEMAG Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dadeig Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/dadetweets Follow Nick Jiménez: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/nicolasajimenez/ Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/nicolasajimenez Follow Carlos "Carluba" Rodríguez: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/carluba Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/carluba Send any feedback to panconpodcast@dademag.com.

You’re not Yelping --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

In the next two episodes of Special Sauce, we take a deep dive into the challenges and triumphs of building a career in food media. I invited former Serious Eats editor/current contributor Max Falkowitz, and founding TASTE editor Matt Rodbard to share their perspectives. As two people who have co-written cookbooks with chefs, been on staff as editors and writers at food publications, and freelanced extensively, I thought they’d offer unique insights into what it takes to become food writer. And sure enough, they had no shortage of thoughts to share. Max started us off with a hilarious tale about life at the Falkowitz family table: "So my dream story is to write one of those really tender, loving, emotional pieces about my dad's pasta sauce, which he spends all day making. He has these giant cauldrons that his aunt used to only used to boil gefilte fish in and they're probably 30 gallon cauldrons. He chops up all of his olives and he browns his ground beef and he gets special types of tomatoes and he spends all day making the sauce. He invites his old college buddies to have the sauce. It's a whole thing, and the sauce is terrible...It's so bad. It tastes like canned olive juice...which is effectively what it is. Both of my parents are wonderful cooks, and they were for the most part raising me as independent single parents and did a fantastic job and gave me a life long love of food, but they have their missteps and one of them is the sauce."
 Matt's advice for aspiring food writers is quite simple: "Write all the time. It's like a muscle. It's like riding a bike. I mean, it's cliché, but it's true. You have to stay in shape. I think that's why I said the Yelp review was such a good thing to start with, because I was Yelping literally every meal I had and I think often with Twitter and with Social, people assume that's writing, but it's not writing. That isn't writing. That's something else." Max added this bit of pointed counsel: “Give a fuck. There's so much writing that feels totally dispassionate and procedural. If you're not doing this because you love it, you're not going to get paid doing this." Anyone who has contemplated pursuing this fulfilling but challenging career path should give these next two episodes a listen. --- The full transcript for this episode can be found over here at Serious Eats: https://www.seriouseats.com/2019/08/special-sauce-matt-rodbard-and-max-falkowitz-on-becoming-food-writers.html 

On this week's episode, John Sheeran and Anthony Cosenza discuss the possibilities of why the Cincinnati Bengals are having trouble cementing the rest of their defensive coaching staff, as well as if it's time for Zac Taylor to send a message to a Bengals player with recent legal issues. The duo also plays a fun game in where they rank the team's impending internal free agents, in terms of prioritizing a re-signing.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode, David & Carolyn talk CHER, "ottomans", not Yelping unnecessarily, and learn that if your psychic is Camryn Manheim, you should take her VERY seriously.Thank you to all of our Patrons so far, especially Patrick & Emily J. and Natalie G.! Please visit Patreon to become a supporter of Will & Grace & Vodka and get some cool merch!Follow our fabulous Spotify Playlist, featuring every song sung or played on Will & Grace.Follow us on Twitter, Instagram, & Facebook!Click here to give us a rating and a review! We'll love you forever for it, and maybe shout you out on the podcast!Theme Song by the magnificent PJ Hanke. And a huge thanks to Executive Producer, Sasha Gerritson!

#What made the internet angry this week? It's our fiftieth episode extravaganza! Also, in honoUr of Canada Day, we look at Canada's greatest and most-not-great contributions to the world, discuss our now-official trade war with the U.S., and talk about why Yelp is now the political weapon of choice for people with holes in their brains. Talking points: Things Canadians did Buy Canadian! The Red Hen gets egged This is a perfectly normal response from perfectly normal people Vancouver has a Red Hen of its own Don't you people have fucking JOBS

We found out that if you are having an invasive procedure done, the best thing to do is go to Yelp to find the most qualified candidate. but be careful, because you might get sued. Also, Satanism has a bad rep, we just don't know cuz they can't get verified on Twitter.

**Yelping 'wow' at the TV and glad that Bahrain wasn't on its own. It's been pretty good since Australia, hasn't it?** The 2018 Chinese Grand Prix lit up another weekend in Formula 1, and the crew are on their best form to review and discuss the action. So here is edition 218 of The NR F1 Podcast, looking back at Shanghai and taking a quick glance forward to Baku. From the safety car fall-out to Brendon Hartley's contribution - and Nico Rosberg's lingering smell - it's all here as Michael Bailey is joined by Callum Springall and Richard Baxter for the usual F1 silliness. The crew dish out their grand prix weekend awards and begin to predict the outcomes in Azerbaijan. And if you want to hear more from where this came from, just scoot over to http://www.patreon.com/nrf1 for all the details. * * * **The British county of Norfolk is where the iconic success of Team Lotus was cultivated, where Ayrton Senna, Graham Hill, Martin Brundle, Mark Webber and more honed their race craft - and home to The NR F1 Podcast.** Find all you need to know about The NR F1 Podcast and how to join in with the fun by visiting our website: http://nrf1.uk JOIN THE CLUB | Become an NR F1 Podcast patron to enjoy a host of exclusive content: http://patreon.com/nrf1 YOUTUBE | Take in The NR F1 Podcast's lovely new YouTube channel - including the video of Michael channeling Seb at Ellough Park and highlights of the inaugural NR F1 Grand Prix (they're on their way): http://nrf1.uk/nrf1tube PREDICT | Be part of our superb F1 prediction league for the 2018 season - all the details: http://nrf1.uk/predictf1 SUBSCRIBE | Find your podcast player link: http://nrf1.uk/podsubscribe ITUNES | Subscribe, rate and review us: http://nrf1.uk/isonitunes GOOGLE PLAY | Likewise: http://nrf1.uk/isongoogleplay RSS | For android and other devices via audioBoom: https://audioboom.com/channels/4785441.rss GET IN TOUCH | Follow our social media feeds and join the fun: TWITTER | http://twitter.com/thenrf1 FACEBOOK | http://fb.me/thenrf1 INSTAGRAM | http://instagram.com/thenrf1 EMAIL | nrf1podcast@gmail.com * * * **As for our most popular podcasts in the last 12 months, try these:** * **e213 Reviewing the 2017 season over dessert** - https://audioboom.com/posts/6538053 * **e200 Our big anniversary!** - https://audioboom.com/posts/6336063 * **e146 Jake Humphrey sorts F1 by shouting from his kitchen** - https://audioboom.com/posts/5736293 * **e169 I still think I've got something special; the Stuart Webber interview** - https://audioboom.com/posts/5971694 * **e184 Our British GP review recorded live on the Silverstone grid** - https://audioboom.com/posts/6098909 * **e155 McLaren the disgrace and Max the idiot** - https://audioboom.com/posts/5833341 * **e199 Vettel fails and that's probably that** - https://audioboom.com/posts/6315458 @F1 #F1 #Formula1 #2018 #Formula12018 #f12018 #GrandPrix #GP #ChineseGP #F1Baku #AzerbaijanGP #Motorsport #F1isBack #FIA #Norfolk #RedBull #RedBullRacing #RBR #Ferrari #Verstappen #Ricciardo #Kimi #Raikkkonen #Fernando #Alonso #Williams #Mercedes #Hamilton #Vettel #Bottas #ToroRosso #STR #Hartley #Sainz #Renault #McLaren #Sauber #Haas #Gasly #Rosberg

Graveyard Girls on Paper Phoenix Wings  by Andrea Tang     The flyboy crash-landed into Magdalisa’s life on a Wednesday, just before mid-afternoon prayers. More specifically, he crash-landed into the spindly stone watchtower over Dalaga Cemetery, and really, that amounted to the same thing. Magdalisa, for her part, probably wouldn’t have noticed if the flyboy’s spectacular nose-dive hadn’t so thoroughly disturbed the ghosts.     Hello! Welcome to GlitterShip Episode 51 for March 3, 2018. This is your host, Keffy, and I’m super excited to be sharing this story with you. Our story today is "Graveyard Girls on Paper Phoenix Wings" by Andrea Tang. Andrea Tang is a DC-based speculative fiction writer and international affairs wonk who earns her keep scribbling stuff about power politicking that slides on a scale from very real to very fictional, depending on who's asking. When not hunched over a notebook misusing her imagination, she's known to enjoy theater, music, and martial arts. Catch her on Twitter @atangwrites, or drop by for a hello and a virtual cup of tea at http://andreatangwrites.com.   Graveyard Girls on Paper Phoenix Wings  by Andrea Tang       The flyboy crash-landed into Magdalisa’s life on a Wednesday, just before mid-afternoon prayers. More specifically, he crash-landed into the spindly stone watchtower over Dalaga Cemetery, and really, that amounted to the same thing. Magdalisa, for her part, probably wouldn’t have noticed if the flyboy’s spectacular nose-dive hadn’t so thoroughly disturbed the ghosts. Tita Shulin, naturally, was the ghost tasked with telling Magdalisa, who’d been dozing off over a half-swept catacomb beneath the graveyard proper. The blast of icy air across Magdalisa’s ears put an abrupt end to the nap. Yelping, the girl scrambled awake. “Tita Shulin! I’m sorry, I’m on my way to prayers, I promise—” “Sod the prayers,” said Magdalisa’s tita. Those three words, more than anything, alerted Magdalisa to the fact that something serious indeed had happened. Sleep-fog fled her mind. Twisting her hands together, Magdalisa leaned forward, until she was practically nose-to-nose with Tita Shulin. “Tita,” said Magdalisa, more quietly now, but a good deal more urgently. Her words bounced off the catacomb walls. Tita, tita, tita. “What’s the matter?” Tita Shulin’s mouth pursed. Ghosts were funny creatures. Tita Shulin didn’t glow, or go dramatically translucent, or otherwise give much indication that she was dead. She looked nearly the same as she had in life: square-shouldered and square-jawed, with golden-brown skin, her hair—dyed stubbornly black well into her seventies—close-cropped in a fashion that had supposedly scandalized the family when Tita Shulin was still a young woman, and not yet a tita at all. Tita Shulin, as a ghost, turned the air around her cold, and when particularly exasperated with Magdalisa, sometimes floated a few inches off the ground and telekinetically bandied objects about. Still, given that Tita Shulin, when living, had been a veteran of the Corrazon Witches’ Corps, death had done little to change her. Now, invisible forces tugged Magdalisa upright from the catacomb surface, and smoothed down her collar with perfunctory sensibility. “A sky-sailor has crashed his paper phoenix into the tower.” “What?” shrieked Magdalisa, scurrying after Tita Shulin. The ghost floated up the grimy stone stairway with alarming speed. “Is he all right?” “No. Come on, kid, pick up those human legs of yours. You may live with ghosts, but that doesn’t mean you have to move like the dead.” Magdalisa, legs burning protest by the time she panted her way to the top of Dalaga’s watchtower, caught sight of the wings before anything else. Painted sleekly red and black, even their collapsed length spanned the tower’s highest turret, brightly-colored paper still fluttering weakly against the wind. Fierce, hand-painted phoenix eyes stared blankly at Magdalisa from the smoking wreckage, devoid of life. Magdalisa swallowed an odd lump at the sight. Then she heard the faint, low-pitched keening beneath. Magdalisa hurried forward and crouched low. Grimacing as her knees hit a sticky little puddle of blood, she pried up one of the singed, broken wings. When Magdalisa caught sight of the sky-sailor—or what remained of him—her entire body flinched. “He’s dead.” Murmurs of dismay greeted this answer. When Magdalisa turned, she found herself facing the entire lineup of Dalaga ghosts, their faces wide-eyed and curious. Tita Shulin, standing at the front like the self-proclaimed matriarch she was, snorted at Magdalisa’s proclamation. “Please. We’re dead, kid. Flyboy’s just on the brink of it, that’s all. You of all people should know the difference, hmm? He’s probably a goner, either way.” One inky, ghostly eyebrow lifted. “Unless, of course...” Magdalisa recoiled without quite meaning to. “I can’t. High Priest Stefan won’t like it.” One of the other ghosts, a stout scowling woman called Nia, clicked her tongue irritably at the High Priest’s name. “Sod old Stefan. Petty little man.” Her sister, Luchia, gasped and shoved at Nia. “Quiet, foolish girl! He’s the High Priest!” Nia’s mouth set mulishly. “High Priest or not, I don’t see him around right now, do you?” “Ah,” said Tita Shulin, tapping her chin. “What an interesting point Nia’s raised.” “I could get in trouble,” said Magdalisa, but staring at the broken red wings, and listening to their sky-sailor’s terrible, broken animal sounds beneath, she could already feel the magic bubbling mutinously in her veins. Tita Shulin shrugged. “No one here’s gonna tell. Right, girls?” Fervent, nervous agreement chorused between the other ghosts. Magdalisa swallowed, and turned back to the phoenix’s smoking wreckage. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She didn’t know if she was apologizing to herself, or the three-quarters-dead flyboy, or the sun god Dal above, whose High Priest’s commandments she was almost certainly violating with the spark of unnatural, death-kissed power between her hands. Now, kneeling in the drying puddle of the flyboy’s blood, she lay her hands against his limp, broken-angled body. The flyboy had stopped keening, and lay unresponsive, his light brown skin now waxy and grey-tinged. His flank, terribly cold, barely rose and fell under her touch, but what little air he had left was enough. Magdalisa had more to give. A sigh shuddered through her. She let the power go. At first, nothing happened. Then a second sigh tore through the body beneath hers, violent in its exhalation. The flyboy bucked against her palms, muscles tightening under his skin. His eyes, flying open, rolled back in his skull, as his mouth widened in a soundless cry. Bones snapped back into place. New blood rushed to his previously pallid cheeks. Shudders wracked him over and over, as his body knit itself arduously back together. Still, Magdalisa’s hands held steady, her fingers twining through the fleeting threads of the flyboy’s soul, feeding its life back into his convulsing body. A final bone snapped into place. He whimpered once, then went slack in Magdalisa’s arms. She pressed her ear to his chest, and blew out a sigh of satisfaction at the drumming heart inside. When she leaned back on to her heels, the flyboy was blinking dark, slightly unfocused eyes at her. “I’m alive,” he croaked. “Yes,” agreed Magdalisa, a bit crossly, “no thanks to your sky-sailing skills. Welcome to Dalaga.” His smile at the name ‘Dalaga’ was weak, but strangely giddy. “Sanctuary,” he rasped. “What?” “Sanctuary,” he repeated, more sluggishly now. “Dalaga. I claim...” He trailed off, eyes drifting shut. Nia patted Magdalisa fondly on the shoulder. “Let him rest. Dying and coming back in the same day is hard work. You know how it is.” “I do,” said Magdalisa, frowning as she tried to arrange the flyboy’s arms more comfortably, “but I—” She hissed, as her fingers brushed cold metal at his fingers. “What?” Luchia asked, anxiously poking her head over her sister’s. “What’s the matter?” Arranged across the flyboy’s fingers were a series of gold and silver rings carved with interlocked triangles. That meant one thing. Magdalisa’s heart thudded with alarm inside her chest. “He’s a Wanderer.” “Lots of sky-sailors are,” said Tita Shulin, taking a seat beside Magdalisa. The blood-stained ground seemed to bother ghosts a good deal less than living humans. “I expect they have more need of paper phoenixes than most.” Her eyes fixed on Magdalisa’s. “Are you really going to judge him for it?” Magdalisa had the good grace to feel a stab of guilt. “They’re heretics,” she said defensively. “Ah,” said her tita, “and so are all residents of Dalaga, technically speaking. Even if he’s not a woman, a Wanderer flyboy ought to fit in just fine.”   “Remember what brought you to Dalaga.” Every so often, between chores, Magdalisa considers the epithet carved across the entrance to the cemetery. Dalaga’s name in full is Dalaga Cemetery for Misguided Ladies, the sun god Dal’s final refuge for women who strayed from the holy path of righteousness in life. The ghosts of Dalaga have been prostitutes and adulterers, god-deniers and conspirators, each new addition finding more creatively myriad ways to spend lives of merrymaking sin, before succumbing to death. The High Priest declares that the beautiful towers and ancient catacombs of Dalaga Cemetery are a tribute to Dal’s grace, a refuge for sinful females to repent in their afterlife and bask in the god’s glorious forgiveness for all eternity. Magdalisa’s not sure the High Priest has this bit quite right—in her experience, Dalaga’s ghosts aren’t especially interested in penance or forgiveness. Mostly, they seem interested in bad jokes, the latest Witches’ Corps gossip, complaining about the dust on their graves, and generally busybodying their way through Magdalisa’s life. But then, Magdalisa’s just a graveyard keeper, who earns her living cleaning the catacombs and weeding the gardens. What does she know, anyway? “I know what brought me to Dalaga. A job, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.”   Magdalisa had been tending the latest, strangest newcomer to Dalaga, when a blast of winter-worthy cold announced the ghosts’ presence in the tower’s spare room. “You have a visitor,” announced Tita Shulin. “It’s the High Priest,” blurted out Luchia, bobbing over the elder ghost’s shoulder, eyes very wide, as she wrung her hands. “He’s here for one of his dratted surprise inspections. Oh, Magdalisa, Magdalisa, what shall we do?” “Quiet, girl,” snapped Tita Shulin. “You’re not helping.” “What a curse it is to be a woman,” moaned Luchia, ignoring her. “What a curse, to spend a woman’s life at the whims of men, only to spend death at Dalaga and discover yourself at the whims of the High Priest, of all possible men. The High Priest!” Magdalisa sighed. Sometimes, there really was no help for Luchia. In life, she’d been a minor priestess of Dal, the third daughter of an impoverished man using his offspring to vie for respectability, which Luchia had promptly dashed when she’d run off with a young man from one of Corrazon’s neighboring cities. The rebellious lovers had lived a happy enough life together, before illness took Luchia, and sent her home to be buried at Dalaga Cemetery for Misguided Ladies. Now, Luchia began to wail. “A curse to be a woman, and no respite from it, even here! I don’t know why you would ever choose such a life, Magdalisa!” “I didn’t,” said Magdalisa, a little dryly. “I’m afraid it rather chose me.” “Magdalisa,” said Tita Shulin. Her voice was a knife, cleaving straight through Luchia’s histrionics. “How’s the flyboy?” Magdalisa glanced down at the guest bed’s occupant. For the past several days, the young Wanderer had lain unconscious more often than not, and when he woke, he barely kept his eyes open long enough to string two words together. She didn’t even know his name. Still, his color improved daily, he swallowed the congee she spooned into his mouth, and his once-thready pulse seemed to grow stronger each time Magdalisa checked it. “Alive,” said Magdalisa. Often, the barest truth was also best. Tita Shulin clicked her tongue. “It shall have to do.” “He’s coming!” hissed Nia from around the corner. “Magdalisa, you’d best have a story ready!” Helplessly, Magdalisa looked to her tita, who looked back with the same, unperturbed calm she’d carried everywhere in life. “Eh,” said Tita Shulin. “Let him come. This is Dalaga Cemetery, and you are still its keeper, for the moment. That position leaves you some sway over the goings-on of this refuge, and don’t you let old Stefan tell you otherwise.” It was good advice to go out on. The High Priest of Corrazon burst into the spare room in the same instant the ghosts vanished. “Graveyard keeper,” he barked. His beady blue eyes swept toward the bed where the flyboy slept. “Explain yourself.” Magdalisa folded her hands primly over her apron, and bowed her head to the High Priest. “I have been performing my holy duties as the keeper of Dalaga Cemetery, Your Grace.” “Holy duties!” “Indeed, Your Grace.” “Do you know what the city watch told me this afternoon?” asked the High Priest, in the low, dangerous voice of someone who does not actually expect you to answer the question. “One of those wretched sky-sailors on their ridiculous paper birds was shot down by a sentry on suspicion of espionage. But when runners were sent to find the body, none was recovered. Instead, we hear word of a paper wreckage on the very watchtower of Dalaga Cemetery, and...” He trailed off meaningfully. Magdalisa, even with her head bent, could practically feel those beady eyes boring into her skull. “You, sheltering an unexpected guest.” “Yes, Your Grace.” Magdalisa kept her voice even. “It’s as I said. Being a cemetery, Dalaga is a sacred space, holy to our sun god Dal. You have reminded me yourself, Your Grace, on many occasions.” “I don’t see why—” “As Dalaga’s graveyard keeper, is it not then my holy duty to take in the wounded who arrive seeking care and refuge?” “Yes, yes,” snapped the High Priest, flapping an irritable hand, “but if you are harboring a spy, an enemy to the city and the god himself—” “I’m not a spy,” said a new voice. Magdalisa’s head jerked up, deference forgotten, as she and the High Priest rounded as one on the bed in the corner. The flyboy was awake, and sitting upright, black curls mussed, thick-lashed eyes narrowed at the High Priest. He looked a little wan, beneath the usual dusky complexion common to the Wandering folk, but the expression behind those pitch-dark eyes gave every impression of alertness. And anger. “I’m not a spy,” he repeated. “I was delivering routine messages to the sky-sailors’ charities within the city.” “Then why, pray tell, did the sentry shoot you down?” demanded the High Priest. The sky-sailor’s lip curled. “Corrazon’s city sentries have never been overly fond of sky-sailors.” The High Priest’s face grew mottled. “Keep in mind, boy, your position.” Mouth pursed, his gaze raked the young man up and down. “The sentries are protectors and servants of Dal. And no one believes the words of Wanderers. Be careful where you choose to fling your accusations.” “I’m not accusing anyone of anything,” said the sky-sailor in even tones. He smiled unpleasantly. “I’m sure it was a mistake.” “Then you will not mind being tried for espionage at the city courts.” “On what grounds?” “You are a Wanderer,” began the High Priest, eyeing the rings at the flyboy’s fingers with a grimace, “and a sky-sailor, besides. It is well within the authority of the High Priest of Corrazon to detain individuals of suspicious background—” “Not in a sanctuary,” interrupted Magdalisa. A memory clicked into place at the back of her mind. Both men’s gazes whipped toward her, one cold, one bemused. “What are you talking about?” demanded the High Priest. “Sanctuary,” repeated Magdalisa. “Cemeteries are sacred to our sun god. In a refuge holy to Dal, no blood can be spilt, and no hands lain on another against their will. As such, so long as we stand on Dalaga’s grounds, Your Grace, I’m afraid you’ll be quite unable to detain...” “Rigo,” the flyboy supplied, looking rather amused now. “I’m called Rigo.” “Rigo,” agreed Magdalisa, head bowed to the now crimson-faced High Priest. “There you have it. I’m terribly sorry, Your Grace. I’m but a humble graveyard keeper, who answers only to Dal’s will, which commands us all.” At the invocation of the sun god’s name, the expression on High Priest Stefan’s face shifted just a little, as he glanced skyward, toward Dal’s domain. But it was enough. His mouth worked. “Stay here then, heretic,” he snarled at last. “And may you rot within these walls, by the eternal mercy of the god whose name you disgrace.” With that particularly dramatic proclamation, the High Priest slammed out of the room. Slowly, Magdalisa lifted her eyes to Rigo, the flyboy. “Well,” she said awkwardly. “It seems you may have returned to the land of the living just in time for me to trap you in a cemetery for eternity. I’m dreadfully sorry.” Rigo blinked at her. “You just saved me.” “I don’t know about that,” said Magdalisa. “When you first smashed yourself to bits against the watchtower turret, certainly, I’ll take credit for that save. I’m not sure this one counts, though. Caging you in a graveyard might not be much better than letting you stand city trial.” “Anything is better than standing city trial for a Wanderer,” said Rigo, very wryly. He blinked slowly and shook his head, his grin full of uncertain wonder. “You don’t even know me. Why help me?” “Ah, well.” Magdalisa rolled her shoulders. “You can blame my tita for that one.”   “Remember what brought you to Dalaga.” Tita Shulin—in her life before Dalaga—proudly serves the city government as a member of the Corrazon Witches’ Corps. She’s Magdalisa’s very favorite tita. Magdalisa, at this point, isn’t yet called Magdalisa; that part won’t happen until later, but the name she bears right now isn’t important. The child who will one day become Magdalisa laughs when Tita Shulin makes Mama’s cookware dance around the family kitchen, and exclaims over the silky uniform pinafore that Tita Shulin carefully airs out on the balcony every Sunday. “Hey, tita!” Magdalisa calls, dangling heels thumping together between the balcony bars. “Tita, when I’m big, I’m going to join the Witches’ Corps too, and wear pinafores just like yours!” Tita Shulin laughs, and nudges her sister, Magdalisa’s mama, crowing, “This kid’s going to be a handful.” “I know what brought me to Dalaga. My tita’s pinafore, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.”   “Wanderers aren’t technically heretics.” Magdalisa squinted up at the figure silhouetted against the afternoon sun. “Excuse me?” Rigo, the flyboy, dimpled down at her. He still walked gingerly, and bore a particular pallor that suggested his body hadn’t quite caught up with Magdalisa’s magic, but he left the guest bed from time to time to wander the cemetery grounds, picking up books from the tower library and offering Magdalisa assistance with minor chores around Dalaga. Now, he’d caught her in the garden, tending one of the jade plants. Apparently, he was in a mood to debate theology. Magdalisa patted at the dirt. “Anyone who refuses to recognize Dal the sun god is a heretic by definition.” “But there’s the thing,” mused Rigo in that habitually cheery, soft-spoken tone of his. “We do recognize Dal. We think he’s a rather fine fellow, in fact. Who wouldn’t?” Squatting beside Magdalisa, he caressed the little jade plant’s leaves, brow furrowed in thought. “The sun brings us all life. Where your High Priest and his ilk seem to take exception is that we also recognize Meera the earth mother, and Hiseo the god of sea and stars, and Shara the holy queen of the eastern skies.” Magdalisa said, carefully, “The traditional scriptures of Dal do not recognize other gods.” “True,” granted Rigo, dimples still out in full force. “Still, the sun god doesn’t strike me as a petty deity. I can’t imagine he begrudges those less fortunate, homeless gods a place in somebody else’s pantheon. We Wanderers can’t help but feel for the poor aimless creatures.” The corners of Magdalisa’s mouth, traitorous, twitched upward. “The High Priest and his followers would have you burned in the city square for speaking of Dal in such friendly terms.” “But does Dal not proclaim for the virtues of companionship and charity? He must feel for his fellow deities. Why, consider Shu of the western wind, for instance—such a blustery fellow, blowing this way and that, uncertain of his welcome anywhere. We cannot all be so graciously secure in our spot in the sky as the sun god.” Magdalisa glanced sidelong and the sky-sailor. “I’m not at all sure we’re still speaking of Dal.” Curiosity warred with polite wariness, and won. “How does a Wanderer come to fly paper phoenixes for the sky-sailors’ brigade, anyhow?” Rigo winked. “Well, to start, I’m quite good at flying.” “I wouldn’t have guessed, from the great bloody mess you left on the watchtower turret,” said Magdalisa dryly. “An injustice!” Rigo pulled a face at her. “It was hardly my fault the city sentries decided to have a go at me!” “They did think you were a spy.” Rigo sighed, still grinning, but his dark gaze went oddly somber. “All sky-sailors are spies in the eyes of the sentries. The city government—the sentries, the Witches’ Corps, even the High Priest, bless his soul—they all wish to protect the people of Corrazon. It’s a noble task, but one where they do not always succeed. Precious little protection exists for the poor, or for so-called misguided women”—here, he winked again at Magdalisa—“or indeed, for Wandering folk. We of the sky-sailors’ brigade merely wish to assist by filling the neglected gap. The sentries seem to find this an unwelcome interference. Can’t think why.” Magdalisa’s brow furrowed. “You think the city government dislikes the sky-sailors because they defend Corrazon’s outcasts?” “I didn’t say that at all!” cried Rigo, injured. “Perhaps the good servants of the government are merely jealous that we remember what they’ve forgotten. How frightfully embarrassing for them, poor fellows.” Helpless, startled laughter bubbled out of Magdalisa. “You know,” she admitted, “I wanted more than anything to join the Corrazon Witches’ Corps once. I thought I’d help the government protect people too, just like my tita.” Rigo’s smile was slow, genuine, and sun-bright. “You would have made an excellent addition, if my still-beating heart is any indication,” he pointed out. “Why didn’t you?” Magdalisa shrugged, eyes averted. “I grew up, and discovered that being magical is rather more trouble than it’s worth.” She touched the jade plant’s leaves. “Besides, the graveyard needed a new keeper.”   “Remember what brought you to Dalaga.” Magdalisa’s mama spends most of Magdalisa’s childhood hoping Magdalisa will grow out of Witches’ Corps ambitions. When Magdalisa doesn’t, Mama blames Tita Shulin. “This is all your influence!” An angry voice floats up from the balcony late one night, when Magdalisa is supposed to be in bed. “How am I supposed to raise a child properly by myself, when you cavort about, telling lewd stories about women you’ve bedded in the Corps and teaching witchcraft behind my back?” “You don’t have to like it,” chides Tita Shulin, sounding tired. “But your kid has a real gift for magic—” “Gift!” “The Witches’ Corps should be so lucky to recruit such a talented magic-worker into Corrazon’s service. Be proud, sister.” “I would,” says Mama, in a low, tight voice. “I know how much the child wants to be a witch. But it’s not what boys are supposed to want.” Mama’s words thud inside Magdalisa’s chest like a misplaced heartbeat. The next morning, after prayers, Magdalisa finds Tita Shulin. “Tita,” she asks, “must I be a boy?” Tita Shulin sighs. “Your Mama, and most of the family, seem to think so.” A pause. “That does not mean you are a boy, or under any particular obligation to pretend you are.” She smiles. “Eh. Boy, girl, both, neither. You’re young. You don’t have to know everything about yourself right now, hmm?” “Did you always know you were a girl?” “Sure,” says Tita Shulin. “But I didn’t know I was the sort of girl who fancies other girls until I was past twenty, and in my second year with the Witches’ Corps.” She shrugs. “Your grandpapa—my papa, and your mama’s—didn’t like that so much either.” Tita Shulin offers a wink. “But that did not stop it from being true.” “I know what brought me to Dalaga. The truth, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.”   “That sky-sailor’s sweet on you,” said Nia, without so much as a word of preamble, or a blast of cold to announce her presence. Magdalisa shrieked into the nightgown she’d half-pulled over her head. “Dal’s sun! Don’t you ghosts understand a human need for privacy? I was indecent!” Nia rolled her luminous eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Little one, all women who reside at Dalaga, living or dead, have been indecent at some point. We’ve practically made indecency an art form.” “Still!” “Nia has a point,” added Luchia, following her sister. “Granted, she didn’t have one true love, as I did, but rather, a great collection of them—” “Luchia!” “– but the two of us do share an understanding when it comes to men who fancy women,” continued Luchia. “And the flyboy fancies you.” “Codswallop,” said Magdalisa, fire-cheeked. “You’ve all been dead too long to know the first thing about fancying anybody.” Luchia’s eyes narrowed. “Why, it’s true. You do like him back!” “Told you,” crowed Nia. “You owe me the next three rice wine offerings on your grave.” “You said two!” “I said three, little sister.” Magdalisa stomped out of her bedroom. Living with ghosts was all very well, but a human girl could only stomach so much gossip and bickering at her expense. Struck by a chord of determination, she went to find Rigo. The source of all ghostly speculation himself was propped up in the guest bed, reading an old volume of Corrazon history. Upon seeing Magdalisa, he smiled. “You’re still awake! I was the only night owl in my family. It’s nice to know someone else who doesn’t drop like a snoring rock as soon as Dal’s sun sets.” “Do you fancy me?” demanded Magdalisa. Rigo blinked over the book cover. “I’m feeling rather attacked by this line of questioning.” “It’s all right if you don’t,” Magdalisa added quickly. “I don’t expect—” “Yes.” “– any obligations from you. What?” “Yes,” Rigo repeated. He marked his place in the book, set it aside, and said, “I fancy you.” “Is it because I stuck the life back in your body after you essentially died?” demanded Magdalisa, whose heart had begun to rattle unpleasantly beneath her bones. Rigo’s mouth twitched. “That was a very nice point in your favor, but not the only reason.” Eyes averted, she flopped down on the foot of the guest bed. “Is it because I’m the only living woman at Dalaga?” “Shara of the Sky bear me witness, I’d like to think I have higher standards for women than a mere beating heart!” Rigo raked a hand through his curls, looking genuinely nervous for the first time since she’d brought him back from the dead. Then he took a deep breath, and said softly, “I like debating theology with you. I like how clever and funny you are. I like that you treat the graveyard plants so tenderly. I like how your hair curls at the ends when it rains, and how your skin goes dark with Dal’s summer sun. I like—” Magdalisa leaned over and kissed him.   “Remember what brought you to Dalaga.” Magdalisa’s sixteen. She’s been going with Tomo, the butcher’s boy, for all of three months, when they get into a tremendous row right after Wednesday’s midday prayer service. “My papa says the magic inside you is a Wanderers’ curse against Dal,” claims Tomo, who at seventeen, at least has the self-awareness to look shame-faced. Magdalisa, though, is having none of it. “What complete codswallop,” she snaps, hands on her hips. Embarrassed indignation burns like a furnace inside her belly, heating her cheeks. “I have never spoken to a Wanderer in my entire life!” Tomo shakes his head, clearly miserable. “I know, but it won’t make a difference to Papa. He says I’m not to see you anymore, and that I’m to find a proper, beautiful woman who will give him proper grandchildren.” The furnace inside Magdalisa might as well be a full-fledged bonfire. “Well!” she exclaims. “My mama says your papa is a miserable pig, and going with you is beneath our family’s dignity, anyhow. You’re just jealous that I have sufficient magical talent to sit the Witches’ Corps exams, while you must spend all your days in your miserable papa’s butcher shop. I’m well rid of you, Tomo!” She starts to stalk off, but can’t quite resist shouting over her shoulder, “And another thing! I am a beautiful woman, so good luck finding another foolish enough to have you!” Magdalisa waits until she’s safely home, ensconced on Tita Shulin’s balcony, before she finally allows the tears to flow, ugly and unchecked. A few minutes later, Tita Shulin herself stomps out to scold Magdalisa for skipping the post-prayer luncheon, but stops short at the blotchy, sorry sight of Magdalisa’s face. “Dal’s sun above, kid. What on earth is the matter?” Magdalisa opens her mouth to say, “Nothing.” Instead, the whole mortifying story blubbers out: about how much she liked Tomo, who liked her back, but not enough, in the end. How Tomo’s papa wanted Tomo to marry a normal, pretty girl who could produce normal, pretty children, instead of some shrewish witch-girl who’d spent practically her entire childhood being mistaken for a boy. “Ah, kid,” says Tita Shulin, very quietly, when Magdalisa’s done. “That’s a rough break.” Magdalisa hiccups. “Are you mad at me?” “Nah.” The old witch’s arm slings rough and tight around the young witch’s shoulders, as Magdalisa’s tears silently soak Tita Shulin’s pinafore collar. “Everyone misses a prayer luncheon or two. You got nothing to be ashamed of, you hear? Nothing at all.” “I know what brought me to Dalaga. My own silly, broken heart, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.”   Rigo’s mouth, soft and full-lipped, tasted like fruit from the garden. His hands, rings cool on her skin, cradled the back of her skull like it was something precious, thumbs rubbing gentle circles just under her jawline. Magdalisa broke the kiss with some reluctance, her own fingers still curled in his hair, memories a lump in her throat. She didn’t owe the flyboy anything, not truly, but the lump needed to be spoken, for her own sake. She groaned, forehead thudding against his chest. “Rigo, listen, before we go any further. You might not—I have too much magic in me. People expected me to...” Rigo’s heart thrummed patiently against Magdalisa’s forehead. She didn’t dare look up, unable to stomach the thought of those expectant, liquid dark eyes. How to pull this off gracefully? Magdalisa leaned back, gaze fixed on the ceiling, and blurted out, “I think you’re assuming that I have all the particular physical bits people usually expect of women, and that I was born into this world knowing I was a woman, but I don’t, and I wasn’t, all right?” Oh no, she thought, mortified, that wasn’t graceful at all. Rigo blinked a few times, pupils still blown, inky brows furrowing. Almost absently, he traced a thumb over her cheekbone. “All right.” “All right?” she echoed, a little incredulous. He shrugged, looking amused. “If I had anything against unusually magical women, I probably shouldn’t have confessed my affection after your magic literally knit my soul back to my body.” “And the rest?” “Magdalisa,” said Rigo, “we’re currently necking in a cemetery dedicated to women who broke with Corrazon expectations. Your particular womanhood, however you came to it, clearly follows in the footsteps of a rich tradition.” “Oh,” said Magdalisa, flooded by a curious, insistent warmth, and reached for him. “Well,” she managed, as his mouth found her ear, “I suppose we’d best get back to that then.” No further interruptions occurred.   “Remember what brought you to Dalaga.” When the Witches’ Corps send Magdalisa a politely-worded rejection letter—she still wants them, but they don’t want her—Magdalisa’s not the one who breaks. It’s Mama. “I knew it,” Mama moans, over and over again, “I knew this encouragement of your magic would come to no good end. The Witches’ Corps was the only hope for a child like you, and now the Witches’ Corps have turned their backs on us too. What place is left for you now, hmm? What are we to do with you?” Magdalisa watches this all in silence, knowing better than to voice the words resting sharp on her tongue’s edge: The Witches’ Corps turned their backs on me, not you. Stop twisting my pain into your own, Mama. “We’ll fix this,” Mama decides at last. Her wet eyes are hard and narrow. “I know a man who can help. He’ll sort this all out, and our lives will be our own again.” Magdalisa, staring at the floor, wonders what Tita Shulin would say to Mama. The thought is a foolish indulgence. A bad heart killed Magdalisa’s tita more than a year ago. What worth can be found in a dead woman’s imaginary words? “I know what brought me to Dalaga. One unfortunate letter, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.   The Festival of Dal’s Sunrise would fall on a Friday. It was, Magdalisa realized, with an odd twist of her gut, the perfect day to plan an escape for Rigo. The High Priest and his most trusted men would be occupied all day at the city square with holy festivities. No one would bother to monitor arrivals and departures from Dalaga. “I agree,” said Tita Shulin, when Magdalisa told her this, one hot day in the graveyard gardens, “but I don’t see why you can’t go with him.” “Who, Rigo?” Magdalisa turned her face toward the garden wall. “Don’t be ridiculous, tita, I’m the graveyard keeper.” “Yes, and so you’ve been for years now. You’re too young to be stuck in a cemetery forever. You wanted to protect Corrazon’s living people, once. That young flyboy of yours, he shares the same dream. Why not make something of it together?” “In the sky-sailors’ brigade?” Magdalisa asked, incredulous. “What place could they have for a graveyard keeper, a forgotten little witch-girl that no one—” “Stop that this instant,” said Tita Shulin, suddenly ironlike. “I didn’t indulge that kind of talk from you when you were sixteen, and I certainly won’t indulge it now that you’re grown. You live with the dead, but you are not one of us. You were always going to have to move on, one day.” “We can argue about my career choices later,” snapped Magdalisa, stomping from the garden. “Right now, I’m going to find Rigo, and share my plan.” “He’s in love, you know.” Magdalisa blinked rapidly. “I know, tita. So am I. That’s why I have to set him free.” She found Rigo in the library, and stared at the ceiling the whole time she recited her plan. She’d considered everything: the little-known catacomb tunnels beneath the cemetery proper, the map to point the way, the back-door entrance hatch just outside the city gate. “Will the other sky-sailors find you?” she asked urgently, when she finished. “They need to be able to find you.” “Yes,” said Rigo, “and I need to find them. I’d always planned to escape, eventually, but I thought...” In the corner of her eye, hurt skittered across his features for a moment, before smoothing into habitual cheer. “I thought perhaps you’d come too. That’s all.” Magdalisa closed her eyes. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I’m still the graveyard keeper. I’m sorry.” She swallowed. “Please don’t fight with me about this. I—it may be your only chance, you understand?” The silence between them felt longer and heavier than any Magdalisa had ever borne. “I do,” said Rigo at last, soft-voiced. “Thank you. For everything.” Magdalisa heard his footsteps depart the library, but didn’t turn to watch. She didn’t seek him out for a final goodbye, either, when the fateful night fell. To what end? She’d given him his map to freedom. It wouldn’t do, to make salvation harder on either of them than it had to be.   “Remember what brought you to Dalaga.” Mama’s cure-all man works off the books, but he guarantees he can wrest unwanted magic from any human vessel, for the right price. What happens to Magdalisa in his secret shop, in the back alley, isn’t worth remembering. There’s darkness, and pain, and at the end of it all, Magdalisa’s magic, sure enough, bleeding out on to the floor, along with the rest of her. Magic, after all, is tied to the soul. Mama weeps over her. “I’m sorry, girl. Mama’s so, so sorry.” Magdalisa’s final, furious thought is that being sorry never fixed anything. Then darkness eats her world. “I know what brought me to Dalaga, but you have no right to it. You have no right at all.”   Luchia was the one who brought word of the ambush. “It was a trap!” she cried. The ghost burst into Magdalisa’s bedroom in a flurry of cold that sank into Magdalisa’s very bones. “A few of the High Priest’s men, they thought Rigo would take advantage of the festival day to run, so they waited for him at the gate.” “They’re going to burn him in the city square.” Nia’s voice was quieter than her sister’s. “I’m so sorry, little one.” Magdalisa sat there in the winter-deep chill of her bedroom, absorbing the ghosts’ words. “Don’t be,” she said at last. Despite the chill, she felt hot beneath the skin. “Magdalisa!” Tita Shulin appeared then, the only ghost whose face wasn’t a picture of distress. Her fingers found Magdalisa’s, and squeezed tight, just once. Then the touch was gone. “Go on then, kid,” she said. “You know what to do. You’ve always known.” Magdalisa stood. Her nails bit into her palms, as her heart thrummed with some savage feeling she couldn’t name. It shoved her to her feet, carrying her out the bedroom and up the stairs, to the watchtower’s highest turret, where the remains of Rigo’s paper phoenix still lay spattered with his bloodstains. Standing before the phoenix’s blank-eyed stare, Magdalisa glared up at Dal’s setting red sun. “I am well and truly sick of my magic being a burden,” she declared. “Witness, for once in my life, my magic is going to work for me.” Power jumped inside Magdalisa’s veins. Beneath her hands, the paper phoenix rustled and groaned, unfurling its great red wings. Its painted eyes widened, then narrowed at Magdalisa, whose magic curled plumes around them both. With painstaking care, Magdalisa curved her body along the phoenix’s spine, burying her face in the paper feathers. “Help me,” she whispered, fists full of feathers and furious magic. “Help us both.” The phoenix emitted a great, shrieking war cry. Then, Magdalisa astride its back, launched into the sky. Clinging to the bird with her knees, Magdalisa scanned the ground until she smelled smoke. “There,” she whispered. She felt the paper phoenix hesitate beneath her. She stroked its bright-painted plumage, power sparking between them. “Don’t worry. You won’t burn. Not under my watch.” The phoenix dove. The pyre wasn’t lit yet, but the torches were ready. A crowd had gathered. And someone was tying a familiar, dark-headed figure to the center. Not under my watch, thought Magdalisa, and dove again. She barely had time to register the shock on Rigo’s bloodless face, before she’d kicked aside his guard, and pulled the sky-sailor astride his own phoenix. “Miss me?” she shouted, over the crowd’s roar of surprise. “You have no idea,” he shouted back, and then his arms were wrapped tight around her ribs, as the three of them—the flyboy, the graveyard girl, and the paper phoenix—hurtled away into the star-streaked sky. “Goodness,” he said, some time later. His arms were still a vise around her bones. It occurred to Magdalisa, as they zigzagged through the air, that his reasons were probably practical, as well as affectionate. “Perhaps you’d best let me steer.” “Just don’t crash us into the watchtower again. Trouble enough saving your life the first time around.” Rigo laughed, nose buried against her neck. “Don’t worry. I can land us there nice and easy, now that everyone below is too shocked to shoot in the dark.” “No,” said Magdalisa. “We’re not going back to Dalaga.” His hands, subtly reining the phoenix around by its feathers, went briefly still. “Are you sure?” “Yes.” Magdalisa smiled against the wind, hot-eyed, but certain as the magic pulsing warm and alive beneath her bones. “I am.” “You’ll have to become a better sky-sailor. For all our sakes, really.” Without turning around, Magdalisa swatted at his thigh. “I think I’ll manage.” Rigo went quiet. When he spoke again, his tone was thoughtful. “You know, Wanderers never had permanent physical homes. I think that’s why we share a tradition of telling the stories of what brought us to the places we’ve lived. It’s a way to remember homes that mattered. Homes we carry in our hearts, even when we wander. Will you tell me what brought you to Dalaga?" Rigo’s arms around her were warm. Resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, Magdalisa told him.   After the end of everything, Magdalisa wakes up. At first, she’s certain she’s dead. For one thing, her entire body aches. For another, Tita Shulin, a year and a half past her funeral date, is staring down into Magdalisa’s eyes. Magdalisa’s lying in a bed she doesn’t recognize. Barren stone walls surround what look to be a modest, if tidy, room. “If this is the land of Dal’s glorious afterlife,” she croaks, “the High Priest is in for a surprise.” “I’m afraid not,” her tita says, sounding amused. “We’re merely at Dalaga Cemetery. I don’t blame you for not recognizing the place. The last time you came to the cemetery was for my funeral.” Magdalisa blinks, wiggling her toes. Something strange sparks between them. “My magic,” she murmurs, heart thudding. “It’s back.” “Of course it’s back,” says Tita Shulin, nonplussed. “You silly girl. Did you really think the ghosts of Dalaga Cemetery would restore your soul to your body, and neglect something so important?” Magdalisa glances up at her tita, alarmed. “Then I—” “You are very much alive, yes, I saw to that.” “Are you—” “Still dead, rather.” Tita Shulin shrugs, as if this matters very little. “Eh. It’s not so bad, really. Being a ghost quite suits me.” Unbidden, Magdalisa’s eyes fill. “I missed you. After you died, Mama was never the same.” “Ah, kid,” sighs Tita Shulin. An old sorrow colors her features. “Your grandpapa was a hard, small-minded man, and your mama always had more trouble ignoring his harshness than I did. She wanted so much to please him, but she should not have taken that out on you. You’re her child, magical or not.” “Magic’s what killed me in the first place!” “No, it is not,” says Tita Shulin. “What tried to kill you—and failed, I might add—is a world that didn’t know how to handle magic properly. The world is often foolish in that way, and cruel. But death isn’t ready for you, yet. Your magic still has work to do. I could tell, all the way here in Dalaga, as soon as I sensed my Magdalisa’s soul struggling to stay tethered to her body.” Tita Shulin taps her heart. “I’m a witch too, remember? Magic always knows. A tita’s heart always knows. So the ghosts of Dalaga did what had to be done.” Magdalisa swallows the lump in her throat. “But if I’m not dead, what happens now?” Her tita shrugs. “Eh. The cemetery’s been needing a new graveyard keeper for a while now. The poor gardens are terribly withered. You’ve always been quite good at restoring life, and protecting it. You take after me that way. Why not make some use of those talents, for the moment?” “All right,” says Magdalisa. “All right, I will. For the moment.” She takes her tita’s hand, and follows her to the gardens, where all the other misguided, defiant women of Corrazon wait, their souls eternal, the life growing green and bright around them beneath Dal’s sun. “I know what brought me to Dalaga. Somebody loved me. Nothing more, nothing less.”   END “Graveyard Girls on Paper Phoenix Wings" is copyright Andrea Tang 2018. This recording is a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license which means you can share it with anyone you’d like, but please don’t change or sell it. Our theme is “Aurora Borealis” by Bird Creek, available through the Google Audio Library. You can support GlitterShip by checking out our Patreon at patreon.com/keffy, subscribing to our feed, or by leaving reviews on iTunes. Thanks for listening, and we’ll be back soon with a selection of three short reprints.

Dani Natcher has a fun job. She helps businesses throw parties to build awareness and introduce the team to the public. She does this as a community ambassador for Yelp, the publishers of crowd-sourced reviews on millions of businesses. When we learned that Dani has such a unique job, we had to have her on the show. Dani works diligently with businesses and her 'Elite Squad,' which is comprised of active Yelper's who write consistently on the site. They're invited to events, product demonstrations and given the opportunity to meet founders and owners of local businesses. This conversation with Mark and Patrick led to some interesting insights into Dani's personality, her work with Yelp and what it's like being a recent graduate of Antioch University. Dani describes herself this way, "I am a very self-driven individual with an entrepreneurial spirit and a passion for building, promoting, and creating small businesses." • Just received her Batcher's Degree in Marketing from Antioch, where she graduated with honors • She's a local from the 805 (Newberry Park) • Why does she wear a pendant of the state of California • What the Elite Squad is and how it works • Why Yelp has local ambassadors in communities • Her tips on local businesses that she sees doing a great job with their customers and the community: Good Cup on the Mesa, Educated Car Wash, and Pacific Press • How an event she produced at Brass Bear Brewing in Santa Barbara helped launch that brand locally. • She talks about her other projects, including XMO, Extreme Mobility Camps for the Blind • What does she look for when she walks into a business for the first time? The answer may surprise you. Dani is also volunteering for TEDxSantaBarbara 2017's event on November 11 at the New Vic Theater. She's the Food and Beverage Captain, helping to connect the local craft food scene to the event. We're looking forward to some innovation and fun as a result.

In this episode of Mortgage Banker University, Brett exposes a blue-ocean marketing strategy that will put you in the drivers seat to locate hot prospects that need help with their mortgage every single day. If used properly, this strategy can be a business breakthrough and fill your pipeline with eager and grateful prospects that NEED your help. This is a game-changer and provides you with an opportunity to creatively open the flood gates to an untapped pool of prospects. "Yelping For Loans" was created and curated by Brett McDonell. Brett is the only lender doing this as this podcast is being released. In an effort to continually help you grow your business and dominate your market, Brett is graciously sharing this idea with you.  Please do not use this idea as simply mental entertainment, this strategy is being shared so that you can act on this idea, get in on the ground floor and grow your business. We hope you find this strategy has provoked your creativity and is now helping you think differently about all the ways you can generate loans. Please share your success stories or thoughts on this strategy with Brett @ Brett@mortgagebankeruniversity.com or on twitter @ mbubrett. For more business building ideas, strategies, resources and tools, please visit www.mortgagebankeruniversity.com. In episode 17 of MBU with Brett McDonell, Brett discusses a strategy he has had some success with lately which is targeting prospects with home equity loans to consolidate them into a new 1st mortgage. In this episode you will learn: Why clients with helocs are ideal prospects What are Helocs and What are the pros and concs How to identify prospects with helocs How to use blended rate to convey the true interest rate of the combined debt the client is carrying This episode is action packed and is filled with golden nuggets that will help you become an even better mortgage advisor and sales person. As always, cheers to your success! -Brett  #Mortgage #Mortgagebroker #mortgagebanker #loanofficer  Keywords:  In episode 17 of MBU with Brett McDonell, Brett discusses a strategy he has had some success with lately which is targeting prospects with home equity loans to consolidate them into a new 1st mortgage. In this episode you will learn: Why clients with helocs are ideal prospects What are Helocs and What are the pros and concs How to identify prospects with helocs How to use blended rate to convey the true interest rate of the combined debt the client is carrying This episode is action packed and is filled with golden nuggets that will help you become an even better mortgage advisor and sales person. As always, cheers to your success! -Brett  #Mortgage #Mortgagebroker #mortgagebanker #loanofficer Keywords: Mortgage, Mortgage Broker, Loan Officer, Mortgage Banker, Sales, Marketing, Mortgage Loans, Mortgage Banker, Mortgage Loan Officer, Blue Ocean Strategy, yelp

Ronn and Joe discuss the NFL draft, the World Masters Games, the NBA and NHL playoffs, one-eyed horses, sports karma, Yelping your college, baseball umpires, and school lunches. Ronn gets patriotic (radio edit and remix included) and eats a lot of quiche. Joe goes on a 30-second rant and has to guess obscure sports team names. Plus the boys play a game of “What’s the Word?” and Ronn gets us ready for the Kentucky Derby.

Think you know what it takes to write a review? Got some constructive criticism that needs to be heard? Can you write succinctly and avoid referencing popular media? If you answered yes to all these questions, congrats: you’re far too over-qualified to write an internet review! Yelp is a aggregate review site where people post their thoughts […]

This week, host Brandon Collins (@americancollins) welcomes Ruggy Joeston (@RuggyNYC) to discuss his role as Community Director for NYC at Yelp. They discuss the Yelp Elite, getting the most out of Yelping and some of Ruggy's favorite places to go in NYC. Give it a listen, follow Yelp NYC (@YelpNYC) for tips and rate this podcast five stars!

AFTERBUZZ TV – South Park edition, is a weekly “after show” for fans of Comedy Central’s South Park. In this episode hosts Christy Olson and Stephen Lemieux discuss episode 4. South Park is an American adult animated sitcom created by Trey Parker and Matt Stone for the Comedy Central television network. Intended for mature audiences, the show has become famous for its crude language and dark, surreal humor that satirizes a wide range of topics. The ongoing narrative revolves around four boys—Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Eric Cartman, and Kenny McCormick—and their bizarre adventures in and around the titular Colorado town. Parker and Stone developed the show from two animated shorts they created in 1992 and 1995. The latter became one of the first Internet viral videos, which ultimately led to its production as a series. South Park debuted in August 1997 with great success, consistently earning the highest ratings of any basic cable program. Subsequent ratings have varied b --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

Why must i cry, new name for 69th street? Omarion and Hoagie Day, Facebook charging, Starbucks tipping, forced Yelping, Zagat's, GPS tracking, American image, tipping abroad, the pointed kindness of strangers, bacon alarm clock, sometimes dogs are brown

Jim and Drew take to the mics to discuss the predictably crazy path of Cocaine, which began its popular existence as a medical cure-all and popular ingredient in over-the-counter products on its way to being the party favor and life-destroying booger sugar. They also chat about new phones, when to adopt new social media, how Yelp isn't the democratic entity many believe it to be and America's most favorite drink, coffee!

Extra! Extra! It's a bonus episode! Topics include: First world problems, one gallon smoothies, tipping for takeout, Yelping fairly, family planning for kids, iPhone 6, dressing for an interview, butt kegels and more.

#TChat Radio is all new on Tuesday, January 22, 2013, at 7:30 pm ET (4:30 pm PT).   Endorsements online can mean a lot. They can help an organization’s SEO, and research shows that a large majority percentage of social media users turn to their peers for recommendations on products and services, and not to the organizations themselves that provide these -- a sort of unofficial recommendation. Against the backdrop of social endorsements are the official and unofficial mechanisms for professional endorsements and recommendations that drive careers, too. For this week’s #TChat Radio and Twitter #TChat, we’re going to look into whether or not all online endorsements are created equal, and we’re going to do our best to extrapolate as many key takeaways as possible applicable to the world of work.   Join co-creators and hosts, Meghan M. Biro and Kevin W. Grossman and this week's expert guests: Dr. Marla Gottschalk, Practice Manager in Organizational Development at Rand Gottschalk & Associates, a management consultant focusing on organizational change and performance development. Mike Dwyer, Co-Founder and Managing Director of Market Development at QUEsocial, a social business technology platform that equips employees in recruiting, sales, customer service, product marketing and marketing with job-specific training, content and motivation to convert social media activities into desired outcomes. This is one show you don't want to miss. We'll see you here!

You might not know this, but Scott and I are fashionable. At least, that's what CityandDale.com founder and editor Kendall Barber told us. Fashion is one of those words that can be pretty loaded for some people, but Kendall took us through her idea of fashion, and what it means to be fashionable in Edmonton. It was a great chat. Kendall is going places, right here in Champion City. Here's the show breakdown: 0:00: Intro – “Fashion Sense” 0:54: City and Dale... and Fashion! 17:04: "May" is for "Masturbation" - Sex Talk with Lauren 20:53: Fashionable since age four 42:04: Adam rants... about demographics and Next Gen 45:48: Yelping at D'Lish 53:50: Adam's continuing weight-loss journey 1:00:30: Contributing to Edmonton's fashion 1:05:04: Fast Fifteen with Kendall Barber The Unknown Studio is a proud member of the League of Extraordinary Media. ===================================================== EDMONTON JOURNAL STILL SPONSORS THE UNKNOWN STUDIO ===================================================== We're helping EJ to promote their new iPad app. If you have any comments about the new app, let us know and we'll pass it along! =====================================================