#and in DC that’s really fucking expensive real estate

[angeletombee]

i hope you don't find this weird.

you and your writing were one of the factors that led to me finally completely abandoning religion, and i want to thank you for that. i feel free and even though i don't actually know you, i wanted to say that i'm grateful you exist.

First of all, this comment/statement came in a very long time ago, and it has lived with me ever since. I’ve been sitting on this for months, contemplating. Pleasantly haunted, perhaps? I don’t even know if I’ve arrived at a conclusion yet, and I just didn’t know if it needed replying to or not. I’ve gone back and forth multiple times — so many times, really. I finally decided, YES. I want to validate these words and express my gratitude.

Thank you, Beautiful Human.

Thank you for sharing this journey with me. It’s fucking hard, I know, and *I am here with you*. This is one of the singularly most difficult things to bear, but we’re all here with you.

YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

I never — not ever, not ONCE — thought that when I poked my silly fanfiction onto the internet that I would make anyone happy, let alone help them (even in a teeny way) out of what I feel to be a repressive worldview, but here we are. This is the power of words, cats, and THIS is why the Right Reich is all about banning books. About censoring words. BECAUSE WORDS CAN CHANGE LIVES. And you never know which words in which orders in which cases in which tenses — or even which LANGUAGE — will do the trick. So best to ban as many as possible! Keep the people in line. Ignorance is tantamount to compliance.

Well, fuck that.

I was taught that the pen is mightier than the sword, and goddamn it, my slick-ass fountain pen is a THOUSAND times hotter than your stupid gun. And, yes, I only write with fountain pens. I know this is spilling out everywhere, but that’s because I want you all to read this and know it’s heartfelt and have an ultimate takeaway — even if you, yourself, are religious (I have no problem…pro-religious expression!), even if you read three words of what I write and hate me, THAT IS GREAT! That’s your prerogative! THAT, my cat, is freedom.

Anyway.

Words can help. Words can heal. Words can change whole fucking *lives*. Words - even dumb ones - can help people arrive at the truth. Even words in gay Good Omens fanfic written on the internet.

Remember that.

I don’t know who this human is, but I am so, SO happy they exist. Thank you again, Intrepid Person. Stay strong.

I believe in you.

#words mean things #words matter #writers #thank you beautiful human #I hope this doesn’t chase you away #but you have been living rent free in my head #and in DC that’s really fucking expensive real estate #good omens #ineffable husbands #fanfic writer #ao3 writer #atheists #deconversion #atheism #do NOT underestimate yourself

[grantairezee]

i was browsing apartment listings and my old apartment becomes available again in july.

I just did the math and it's legitimately cheaper to move back in there and commute to work (an hour away) than to rent anywhere between here and there.

I'm deeply tempted to move right back in, provided I can get my Business Shit sorted out/The Situation At Hand Is Resolved.

#its wild bc my apt. was in the state capital #which is a bigger city than here #but here is a dc bedroom community so our real estate market is fucking whack. #like you drive through this tiny quaint little town with all its george washington landmarks and suburban sprawl #and then you look up the rent and its like 1500/mo for a studio apt. and you're like??really?? here??? #dont get me wrong its a cute town but it's deceptively expensive. #also i say move right back in but ive been in my parents' basement for 2 years now and ive been losing my mind the whole time probably

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #292

“dear god, let’s make this fucking clear: dear god, there’s nothing that i fear”

What internet browser do you use? Chrome. What brand water do you drink? (Smart Water, Dasani, etc) Mom just grabs the Great Value jugs. Do you have a job? No. Are you full-time or part-time? N/A Are you watching TV right now? No. Or are you listening to music? Yeah, "Mr. Crowley" by Ozzy. Such a great song. Would you go to jail for 3 years for $1,000,000? No. I would NOT survive in jail. When's your birthday? February 5th. I cannot fucking believe I'm almost 25. Thoughts on kids? Too impressionable for me. Even with my niece and nephew, I feel like every single word I say just like... stamps into their brains, and what if I say something that negatively affects them? I feel like it's my responsibility as an aunt to be a fountain of wisdom when I'm definitely not. I just get nervous around kids. Worst punishment you've ever received by your parents? I wouldn't call it a "punishment," but when I skinned the everliving fuck out of my knees and Mom was patching me up while I was just sobbing away, my dad literally roared "SHUT UP!" from my parents' bedroom, and it's stuck with me forever. Honestly, I think it may be a root in my extreme fear of men yelling. Worst punishment from Mom, probably this time where she smacked the shit outta my arm as a kid and left a clear handprint for a while. Are you the type who is completely against abortion? Why? No, I am firmly pro-choice, despite being pro-life most of my life. I don't feel like writing a moral essay, but basically, I absolutely cannot agree with forcing a woman to carry a human they don't want for whatever reason for nine fucking months, endure one of the most traumatically painful things known to man, and then properly and adequately care for that child. That is such a huge fucking responsibility that should be forced upon *nobody*. "But adoption!" Yeah, go tell that to the thousands of children waiting on you. This is leaning on exactly what I said I wouldn't do, so moving along. Have you ever read a book that actually changed your outlook on life? "I’ve read some books that were phenomenal, but I wouldn’t necessarily go so far as to say that they 'changed my outlook on life'." <<<< This was Johnny Got His Gun for me. Does your favorite flower hold any meaning to you? No. What would you do if your favorite animal became endangered? I would fucking freak. Have you ever owned an expensive eyeshadow palette? No, but I honestly do want at least one, primarily with a deep black and then some nice grays and neutral colors. Do you own a tripod for your camera? Yes. Are your nails always painted? Quite the opposite. What's one thing you've had a toxic reaction to? A breakup. Which holiday is your favorite to decorate for? I honestly don't really decorate because I just don't have the motivation, but Halloween is the best. Were you popular in school? Nope. Are there any foods that often give you heartburn or indigestion? BANANAS, dark sodas (like Coke or Dr. Pepper), peanut butter can... It's hard for me to tell much now because I have chronic heartburn and am medicated for it. Works great, so I don't experience this much. Is there something you intend to buy in the near future? Yes. Once my tattoo is done (I'm setting the appointment the next time we leave the house, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH), what I have left is going towards Venus' new terrarium. She really needs a 40 gallon. Is anyone in your family artistically talented? What about musically? I was the art kid, and family still insist I should be an artist. What cute behaviors or characteristics does/do your pet(s) have? Omg, Roman has so many. He nuzzles me all the time, will collapse into my hand to pet him, he insists on being the little spoon at bedtime (no, really), he literally tries to groom me with his teeth, licks my face... He is just a doll. My little buddy for sure. Now onto Venus. She loves to chill next to me in bed or find a cozy place under the covers, and omgggg does she love to slither around the bed doing the periscope thing. So curious. What's the screensaver on your computer? I don't have one. What’s the sexiest thing about a guy? I am WEAK for nice shoulderblades/muscular shoulders ok. What’s the sexiest thing about a girl? I am an ass bitch and I will not hesitate to admit it ayyyyyeeeee. Who were you with at midnight on January 1, 2021? Nobody. Who was the last person to send you a message on social media? My sister Misty. She's planning to surprise Mom (her stepmom, anyway) by showing up in a few weeks with her fiance and all her kids she's never met but desperately wants to. My mom is the only "real mom" she's ever had, and she just feels so bad that she has a by now teenage daughter (among three other younger ones) that has never met her "grandmother." It's just an expensive and long trip, but Misty's finally called it enough and is just driving down here with everyone. Mom is going to fucking sob. ^ What qualities does this person have, that you appreciate? Nice timing for this, since her fiercely anti-mask bullshit is all I can focus on about her lately... but there are good things about her. She truly is a very loving, passionate woman that, just like me, feels deeply and expresses it. What was the last thing that caused you to scowl, or frown? Does grimacing count from a sudden bodily pain? Have you smiled at any point during the last hour? Yeah. I'm watching the VOD of Arin Hanson playing Kingdom Hearts 2 for charity, and he went on a total fucking laughing fit. His laugh is so precious, so I just couldn't stop grinning. What was the last thing you consulted Google for? Ensuring "grimace" was the right word for my former expression, even though I was pretty positive it was correct... I don't know if anyone's noticed, but my English skills are degrading, particularly in spelling. It's concerning me. I was an English whiz my whole life up to now. My only guess is it's related to how godawful my memory is also declining. So, did anyone send you a "Happy New Year" message when midnight hit? No. When was the last time you were on a carousel? Probably not since I was a teenager being goofy with Jason or somebody. What is the closest you have ever been to an elephant? I have a picture on my dA of a beautiful elephant walking RIGHT by its fence at the zoo. It was pretty amazing, considering just how incredibly immense their enclosure is. Have you ever played Halo? No, it's not my kinda game. Have you ever read a National Geographic magazine? Oh, I'm positive I've read sections while in waiting rooms of various places. When was the last time you had a pillow fight? I have no idea. Realistically it was probably w/ Jason since that sounds like some cute playfighting thing we'd do, but I don't remember a particular instance. Name somebody who you think deserves more respect: "Retail works. The horror stories my mom has on the daily is absolutely ridiculous. People can be so incredibly rude." <<<< I absolutely agree with this; what friends and strangers alike rant about is just depressing. Nobody, especially those working through a goddamn pandemic that's killing thousands, deserves the disrespect that comes their way. Have some goddamn decency and know half the issues you bring up to retail workers isn't even their damn fault. Ohhhh, I could rant about this. In your own words, define what the word sexy means. So you mean like, what I think is considered sexy, not just the general definition? If that's the case, uhhh. Self-confidence (but absolutely not arrogance) is very attractive to me as a bitch who lacks it entirely, as well as good manners, being outgoing, and just... charm. I don't quite know how to describe that "charm" other than I'm really drawn to people who are unique and happy with it and just seem to have an aura about them that feels good to be in. What is the most popular tourist attraction where you live? I'm going to look at this question as if you're asking about my state and not general location because 1.) there ain't shit here and 2.) I'd prefer to keep relatively where I live quiet on the Internet. Looked it up and apparently NC's biggest tourist bait is the Biltmore Estate. Never been there myself, but it'd be pretty dope. Without looking - do you know what brand your underwear is? I'm in my own home and pjs, who the fuck wears underwear with that criteria lmao. Are you any good at volleyball? NOOOOOOOOO. I went to a volleyball camp thing once when I was younger and that shit hurts the hell outta your hands. I didn't stay long. Have you ever had a water balloon fight? Why of course. Do you think some babies are ugly? Quite honestly, probably most, especially newborns. Don’t you miss Chuck E. Cheese? I do; going there was one of the most exciting possible things to me as a kiddo. Do you think Fall Out Boy is gonna be a classic band, like Queen or AC/DC? Possibly. I mean they sure are pretty successful and well-known. Do you love stuff-crusted pizza? Eh, it's not my preference, but I'll eat it. Do you apply lotion after you bathe? No, but I really should, given how dry my skin is. What’s your favorite color? Pastel pink. Who did you have your most amazing kiss with? I'd like to not think about this. Has a YouTube video of yours ever gotten over 10,000 views? Lol definitely not. I think at least one on my older channel hit 1k somehow???? It was a birthday gift I made for someone. Would you ever get a tattoo on your collar bone? lol I already have one there. At some point I'm getting it covered, though. Do you like Robert Frost poems? I do! Do you go to church every Sunday? I never do. Have you ever been in a relationship on-and-off for more than a year? No, I don't play that game. You want me or you don't, so I'm not wasting my time on your uncertainty or just our lack of stability for whatever reason. If you had to get famous for one of the following, which would you choose: music, acting, writing, modeling? Absolutely writing. What do you think of girls with huge boobs that don’t wear bras in public? ?????????????????? i don't?????????????? care???????????????? they're not my tits??????????????? What is the last thing you tried on in a store? I don't know. I avoid trying shit on like the plague. And then it ends up being too big/small. I wonder why. Is sleeping naked more comfortable than in clothes? I've only ever fallen asleep naked once, and accidentally at that, so I really don't remember how I felt about it? Consciously though, I would feel very, very vulnerable so don't have plans to when I have my own place. Have you ever had a dream in which you were making out, or more, with someone? HAHAHA Y'AAAAAALLLLLLL THIS WAS DEADASS THE ONLY LUCID DREAM I'VE EVER HAD LMAOOOOO Do you feel as though you have a good memory, or are you forgetful at times? Do you feel that your short-term memory or long-term memory is better? My short-term memory is absolutely atrocious, like to the point it seriously affects my ability to get shit done. You can give me something that needs to be done and I will forget in a heartbeat. Now, my long-term memory is astonishing. I can remember many things from my childhood in incredible detail. Have you ever had a concussion or some other sort of brain injury before? Did you need to have surgery for it? I've had a concussion or two. I can't remember which. I didn't need surgery. Do you have any sort of mental illnesses or disorders? What do they involve? Yeah: chronic depression, crippling social anxiety, generalized anxiety, avoidant personality disorder (AvPD), obsessive compulsive disorder, PTSD, bipolar II, and I think that's it. My head's a mess and a half. What’s the longest that your hair has ever been? How about the shortest? When is the last time that you got it cut? About to the small of my back; how it is now, which is pretty much shaved on the left and fades to near my chin on the right. I actually got it cut last month; we've gone to a family friend for years whose shop is just an extra building by her house and very rarely has more than two clients in it. We had masks on, of course. At what age did you start getting gray hairs, if you happen to have any? I don't have any. Somehow, given my stress level at all times, haha. What are some ways that you style your hair? Do you use any sorts of products in it? It's too short to style. I don't use any products in it but obviously shampoo. Who was the last person to truly get on your nerves? What do you think caused you to feel that way? Probably my mom. I think she was in a rotten mood for one reason or another and just being snappy and generally rude. Do you recycle? Is this through choice or do you live somewhere where it’s compulsory? We do; it's by choice, and it'd be immensely ignorant not to where we live considering it literally gets picked up with the other garbage. Do you prefer plain, carbonated, or flavored water? Do you think you drink enough water throughout the day? I've never tried carbonated water, and flavored water rarely works for me due to artificial sweeteners giving me beastly headaches. So I'll just take really cold, filtered water. Have you ever needed to call the police, ambulance, or fire department? I had to call the ambulance for my mom right before her cancer was discovered because she was literally immobile and in ungodly pain. When was the last time you visited the library? What was the purpose of your visit? At my old college, as the newspaper photographer, I took some artsy pics up there. I will probably forever worry that leaving school resulted in the biggest career opportunity slipping through my fingers through that newspaper. Do you see a lot of wild animals where you live? Are any of them dangerous? I guess about the normal amount you'd see in the country. Some dangerous animals live here, sure, that's probably everywhere, but you very rarely see any. Aside from when you were born, have you ever had to stay the night in the hospital? For suicidal thoughts and one attempt, yes. Have you ever experienced a panic attack? Ahhhh, do I know those well. Thankfully, it's been a long time since I had an all-out panic attack. Would you ever want to go into the medical profession? Was your answer different pre-COVID? Nope. Well, besides being a vet, which I haven't wanted to be since I was a kid. Where you live, are people paying attention to whatever restrictions are in place to help control COVID? Many? No. Because it's apparently a fuckin hoax or not as bad as the government wants us to think. Fucking cretins. Do you get a real or artificial Christmas tree? Artificial. Real ones aren't worth the money nor mess. What’s your favourite type/flavor of popcorn? Caramel corn. Do you drink oat milk? No, but I'm interested in at least trying it. The dairy industry is absolutely repulsive if you look into it, and I'd love to do what I can to take as little part in it as possible... even though I am a dairy fiend. I seriously wish I could go vegan, I am just WAY too picky for it. Do you love thrifting? Oh fuck yes. I've been very few times in my life, but I'mm all about it. Do you consider using only lowercase letters your aesthetic? I do find it visually appealing; I like the flow of similar letter height. I never do it for "serious" things, but on places where it's "for the aesthetic," it's likely that's how I'll write something. Do you say “mood?” Way too much lmao. Do you own fairy lights? No, though I would like them if it wouldn't look stupid in my room. Do you own glass straws because the metal ones kind of gross you out because you can’t tell if they are clean or not? ... I didn't know glass straws were a thing. I have a handful of metal ones though, but I always forget I have one in my purse when I go out... Have you made a TikTok? No. Do you own airpods? No. Are you afraid of Mercury in retrograde? I don't believe in a planet's position or whatever having any effect on people. Do you make life choices based on astrology? Definitely not, considering I don't believe in it to begin with. How many pairs of converse shoes do you own? Maybe like, five? Number of jeans in your closet: Zero. What accent do you have? Not really any, but sometimes I sound kinda southern with specific words. Do you have a big butt? Yo I got a Hank Hill ass, so no. Do you count how long you and your gf/bf have been together? In my past relationships, yes, I assigned our anniversary to memory. I don't really... know why, like it doesn't really matter how long you've been together, I just do. Have you graduated? From HS, yes. I dropped out of college three times lmao. Rihanna or Lady GaGa? Ohhh, not sure. Maybe GaGa, but both ladies have songs I love. "Disturbia" doess beat all of her songs, tho. The fuckin BEAT. Do you use fake eyelashes? Never tried 'em. Which was the last book that really captivated you? The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. What makeup brands do you use? I'm not loyal to any, really. I would be if I could afford expensive shit, but yeah, that ain't my life.

#survey #surveys #questions #questionnaire #lyrics: ''battle cry'' by blood on the dance floor

[thegeneralreturns]

Thoughts on Birds of Prey

I don’t think it’s very good.  In fact, I think that beyond the genuinely good performances by the actors, there isn’t a single level upon which this movie works.

Birds of Prey’s story is told in a disjointed style that fractures the film’s chronology like early Tarantino or Nolan.  Which is fine in a bubble and looks good on paper, but the advantages that Tarantino and Nolan had were runtime (in the former) and just focusing on a single character (in the latter).  Birds of Prey has neither.  This kind of complicated, doubling-back storytelling means shots and lines of dialogue are replayed two or three times.  This is a one-hundred minute movie with an ensemble cast.  Real estate is both scarce and valuable, which means the movie wastes precious time being fancy at the expense of its characters.  I thought Jurnee Smollett-Bell and Mary Elizabeth Winstead were great as Black Canary and Huntress, but with what little time we spent with them at the expense of Harley, I wish the movie thought so, too.  With the approach this film took, it should have either been longer, or it should have focused more.  Birds of Prey is the closest cinematic equivalent I can think of to the ten-pounds-of-shit-in-a-five-pound-bag analogy.  And it ain’t a girl gang movie if the girls are only a gang for the last twenty minutes.

The action scenes are par for the course, but for the love of God, can we cool it with the John Wick comparisons, please?  This movie has none of those films’ immersion in their sequences.  Save for a couple of scenes near the end, director Cathy Yan is content to just sit back and watch, letting the choreography do all the work.  Which is, y’know, fine, but the praise of critics and the movie’s fans kinda got carried away.

These are my grown-up problems.  I still have one rather large comic book nerd problem with Birds of Prey.

And if I told you my favorite superhero is Cassandra Cain, you know where this is going.  Before we proceed any further, however, I should make a point to mention that I am not, nor shall I ever be, mad enough at a movie to pick on a little kid on the internet.  Ella Jay Basco did a great job with what she’s been given, and I hope the future treats her well.

But the alterations made to Cassandra Cain’s character in this movie are just baffling.  A disabled master martial artist with a more staunch no-kill rule than Superman is now a chatterbox wuss who has no problems waving guns around and blasting people to smithereens.  Everything cool, interesting, or sympathetic about her is just gone.

There are two things that make this perplexing.  The first is her inclusion in the first place.  I have a hard time believing that they put a character named Cassandra Cain in this movie in hopes of luring comic readers when DC has been trying their best to bury her since 2007.  You had Holly Robinson that could have been used, who would have provided connective tissue for the inevitable Gotham City Sirens movie when Margot Robbie’s Harley met Zoe Kravitz’s Selina Kyle.  If you need a tie into the upcoming Batgirl movie, just use Stephanie Brown.  That way, when the Batgirl movie gets here, you can use Cluemaster as a built-in villain.  Hell, you can eve keep the actress.  It’s not like Basco did a bad job, and there ain’t no rule that says Holly or Steph can’t be Asian.  Why Cass?  Why, God?

The second is how did they get her so wrong when they got everyone else so right?  All of the other central characters closely correspond with their comic book counterparts.  Hell, Black Canary is such a mess of interpretations and backstories in the comics that hammering any two of them together into something coherent is a genuine feat of good writing.  Birds of Prey namedrops places like the East End, Amusement Mile, and Robinson Park.  It’s not like these motherfuckers have never picked up a comic book before!  So how did they do everyone else so well and Cass so poorly?

You know, I really don’t give a shit about the behind-the-scenes nonsense with The Rise of Skywalker.  I really don’t.  JJ Abrams made a bad movie.  Case closed, and mystery solved.  Any Star Trek fan will tell you it happens with regularity, and it was your turn.

But The Cassandra Cain Cinematic Shitshow?  I definitely want to know what’s going on there.  I want to sit and listen as this person or these persons explain themselves.  I want to know how they thought irredeemably scorching my favorite superhero in her first big screen outing was a good idea that would sell a single ticket.  If they wrote a book, I’d buy the damned thing.

To quote a great man, whoever made these decisions was either dumb as fuck... or they did it on purpose.

#birds of prey #harley quinn

[eerythingisshaka]

Mr. and Mrs. Stevens

This is my submission for @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots Black Panther Anniversary/Valentines Fic Fest!  Not sure if this fic goes with the theme of the fest and if its a bit....I don’t know, however I did a thing and that’s that on that!

Warnings:  Violence, Language, Sexual Situations

Word Count: 4k

Erik Killmonger x Black!OC

Prompt: “Try not to get blood on your clothes. We have dinner reservations in half an hour.”

Her phone trills in her bra as she checks herself out in the mirror.  The shift she picked up for a friend starts in 15 minutes and she hates when he calls beforehand.

Picking up the call she answers.  “Hey Erik.”

“Wassup baby girl?  You at work?”  His voice carries extra loud in her ear and kind of scratchy.

“Yeah actually.  So why are you calling?”  She asks in annoyance while applying her lippie.

“Aww, now don’t be like that.  You -- money tonight e--?  So don’t trip!”  His voice crackles in her ear.

She takes a step back to look over herself in the mirror, pushing her braids back and turning around to check her behind.  “The only thing I’m tripping over is why you obviously aren’t using the new AirPods I got you last month?  I can hear the 10.99 drugstore quality in my ear, it’s bringing down my mood.”  A loud sniff interrupts her train of thought as she sees a brunette leaning over the rim of a sink with a rolled up dollar bill.

Erik tuts at her.  “Come on, you know I’m a traditionalist when it comes to the audio experience!  I gotta, I gotta have, you know, an immersive, like, surround sound type of thing and like, the cords help-”

She leans on the sink in front of her.  “You lost one at the gym today huh?  When I called you and you said ‘shit shit shit!’ that was you dropping my money down the drain, huh?”

“Your money?  Since when is it your money only?”  Erik asks out the side of his mouth.

A girl taps her on the arm, wiping her nostrils as she holds out the dollar bill with a line left on the sink.  She shakes her head with a polite smile.  “Since I been doing all the work here.  These long nights, planning my own appointments, working these guys for tips with only my own damn wit, when they obviously want more!”

“Pssh, aight aight, calm down.  You know I appreciate this.  It’s OUR thing though, so don’t get your butt on your back with me.  I know you nervous cuz a high roller comin in today.”  Erik says calmly.

She picks up her bag and stuffs it in a locker, slamming it closed.  “Yeah, it’s basically now or never, Erik.  If I’m not what he’s looking for, he’s moving on and then we ain’t got shit!”

Erik shushes her softly.  “Chill, trust me.  You what he’s lookin for.  Guys like him love bitches like-”

“You better be kind and rewind that for me!”  She demands.  Erik always slipping his tongue at the wrong times, ignorant self.

Erik laughs.  “I don’t mean you!  He likes ‘females’ like you.  He studies them the most, you know?  That better?”

She sighs, choosing to ignore the still derogatory term.  “Fine.  You just be here when it’s all said and done.  I need you in times like this.”

“You do, huh?  I need you too, if you wearin whatever was in that bag you packed.  Shit looked tiny, so you ain’t covering much.”

She cackles out loud, her laugh bouncing off the walls of the room.  “Shut UP!  Don’t be silly right now!”

“Ain’t nuthin silly!  WE ain’t playing, you feel me?”  Erik says authoritatively.

She kicks her heel at the ground, biting her lip.  “I might be in a mood to see my friend backstage tonight.”

“Oh, so you claiming this dick right now?  Cuz, I thought this was MY dick!  Since I put in all the work around here, getting hard, staying hard, breaking your fucking back so all you gotta do is take it and you can barely handle that-”

“Oh Erik, fuck on with that.  Buh-bye!”

“You get it now?  Be good, DeDe.”

---

Johnny Rocket’s Adult Entertainment Club has a reputation for high profile clientele and catering to every kink imaginable.  Politicians, celebrities, CEOs, and anyone with a 7 figure or more annual salary has the possibility of getting in any night, however the waiting list was 6 months back, minimum.  If your name is powerful enough, you may receive a bump for the inconvenience, but there’s no way that list would move, as people kept looking for a chance to have an extravagant night inside.

One did not have to be looking for a touch from a stranger in order to enjoy themselves there, the club scene is just as hopping with exquisite seating, expensive liquors and miscellaneous party favors for the bold.  Tonight, Johnny Rocket’s is packed wall to wall for a birthday party of the man who runs the Upper West Side of Las Papeleras, of that’s what he would call it.  Mark Foley is the embodiment of greed; a shark tank businessman with a lust for power.  His monopoly of the financial district kept his pockets running over and the local law enforcement’s lined to keep his shady dealings going at an accelerated rate.  

His dealings started off with drug trades across the southern border of the United States, renting out the time of immigrants on the promise of Visa documents and safe keeping of their families on the road to citizenship.  This was a messy business however, as many of his vulnerable employees would be caught shortly after a drop or killed for being intercepted to ensure the details of his operation remained unknown.  It wouldn’t take much to cover his trail with his buddies in DC anyway.  Even with a successful run, Foley would instruct his subordinates to drop off the grid, leaving his pushers high and dry until ICE came for them eventually.  

But he was out of that game, now it is all about real estate.  Foley knew exactly where to upstart businesses for friends and confidants that would make him the richest man in America.  

“The rundown, dangerous, and poverty stricken  neighborhoods are nestled so conveniently between downtown and the burbs.  We just need to get those low lifes sucking off the teat of our taxpayer dollars to get off some extra dough, or get the fuck outta there.”  Foley slurs his words, picking up his tumbler of 12 year old whiskey.  

One of his associates respond, shaking his head.  “Ahh, come on, Foley.  Those people have been living there for so many fucking generations!  How could you uproot them like that, changing there way of life at the drop of a hat like that?  Where’s your heart?”

Foley blinks his eyes a couple of times, staring at his acquaintance from across the room for what seemed like hours.  The flashing, multi-colored lights of the club blur his vision as the bass of A$AP Rocky pounds at their temples.  

“Really?”  Foley asks loudly over the music, frozen with his drink in his hand.

The man laughs out loud, banging the back of the couch as he leans his head back in blissful humor.  “Fuck no!  I’m just fucking with you Foley, come on!”  He boasts, picking up a bottle of whiskey, clanging it against Foley’s glass.

Foley shakes as his hoarse laugh builds in his gut.  “Ohh, man, you had me going there for a second!  You can’t joke like that with me man, you’re still on probation with me.”

The associate combs his hair out of his face, adjusting his tailored, chocolate suede jacket.  “Let me have some fun, huh?  Anyway, you know what to do.  Call up Johnson to get in touch with Hesson about his eminent domain clause on the block, and kick those sons of bitches out on the concrete.  They’ll find a way, roaches never die, you know?  They just skedaddle on to a new nest to infest.”

Foley lights up a cigar, pointing it his way.  “Exactly.  I consider this motivation to do better for themselves.  Hell, once I clean up the pigsty, they can bring their credit score and occupation info, if they have one, and make a deposit with 6 months rent to settle in to the swanky new digs I transform those rat traps from!”

A waitress comes over in a leather miniskirt and thigh high boots with a fringed crop top that rests off her shoulder.  Half of her braids are bound on top of her head, with the rest cascading down her back.  Even in the dark room and the intensity of the strobing lights, her melanin shown beautifully rich, bringing the table to her full attention.

“Can I get you gentlemen another round?”  Her voice said with a sultry timbre, leaning forward to pick up bottle and adjoining glasses.    Some of her braids fall in the face of a hypnotized Foley who reached his thick hands through them, sniffing.

“Mmm, if you mean the juice, that’s not what I need another round of, sugar.”  Foley says wagging his eyebrows.

She looks over at him, pulling her braids back and out of his hands.  “You are Mark Foley, correct?”

He nods slowly, mouth half hanging open.  “I like the way you say my name, doll.”

“My name is Sade.  Your friend here made arrangements for us to...get to know each other a little better…”  Sade bites her lip, using her almond shaped eyes to invite Foley into the possibility.

He didn’t need too much convincing as he clapped his hands looking over at his associate.  “You sly dog!  You planned this for me?”

He shrugs. “Nothing but the best, for the man who holds my old hood in his hands.”  Raising the bottle up again in solidarity, Foley springs up out of the booth, grabbing Sade by the waist.

“This EXACTLY what I need!  Let’s not delay, drop those glasses at the bar and let’s boogie!”  Foley exclaims, leading Sade along and leaving his associate with the bill.

Foley’s hands were lit up over Sade’s body, feeling her soft and firm portions of her body with no shame as she led him to the quieter, private rooms in the bottom level of the club.  A black door marked with the number 8 in gold is where Sade took them before pausing to turn around and face him, snapping her fingers to regain his sober attention.

“Once we cross this threshold, you will need to behave yourself.  I won’t ask you again, otherwise consequences will be set.”  She says calmly.

Foley looks around the hallway, rubbing his hands together before whispering.  “Whatever you say, mistress.  I am at your command.”  His Dad-bod practically vibrated with excitement as she opened the door.  As it closed with a clang, Foley peers around to inspect the various chains, harnesses, chairs with binding mechanisms that decorated the room.

“Whew, this is-”

“SHUT UP!”  Sade yelled with a crack of a whip.  Foley turned around quickly in shock.

“Sade, I wasn’t-”

“Are you speaking out of turn after an order?”  Sade snarls.  In the midst of Foley looking around the room, she has put on a black lace mask covering her face and a nine tailed whip in one hand with ropes in the other.  

Foley shakes his head excitedly.  “My apologies!”

“Turn around and get on your knees.”  Sade says walking around the perimeter of the room like a lioness tracking her prey.  Foley does as he is told, fitting the profile of sub perfectly as he avoids eye contact.

“You are a stupid, worm-grubbing quim aren’t you?”  Sade says matter of factly, playing with the nine-tails in front of him.

Foley nods aggressively.

“ANSWER ME!  Don’t you have a tongue?!” Sade demands, this time cracking the whip across Foley’s arm.  

He shrieks.  “Agh!  Yes! Yes mistress, I am!  I do!”

“Hm, we’ll see about that later...Do you have a problem with authority?”  Foley stammers, not sure how to answer.  “A man of such wealth and status must know a thing or two about breaking rules….Are you going to break mine?”

“No mistress.  I’ll listen to every word!”  

Sade puts her heel into his chest, leaning against him on her knee as she speaks in his face.  “Have you ever let a Black person tell you what to do?”

Once again, Foley is at a loss for words as Sade runs a gloved hand through his thin, short strands of hair, before bringing the palm of her hand square across his cheek with a hard SLAP.

“That ends today.  Tell me Black Lives Matter.”  Sade commands with a dig of her heel that makes him wince.

“Ahh, Bl-Black Lives Matter.”  Foley says hesitantly.

Sade takes her foot off of him before cracking the whip on him again.  “LOUDER!”

“Black Lives Matter!  Thank God, they matter!”  Foley says more enthusiastically.

Sade looks him over with disgust.  “Take off your clothes as you recite every Black person you know that has contributed to the fabric of our nation.  Go!”

Foley starts with the buttons on his jacket and an ode to Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr.  (Sade had to whip him for leaving off the Jr.)  getting down to his briefs before stuttering on names, giving up before after he said Bill Cosby, holding his hands in front of his manhood.

“It’s not cold, put your hands down!”  Sade demanded.

He does do quickly, looking embarrassed at the small protrusion he can’t seem to control.

Sade shakes her hand tutting him.  “I’m glad you’re having fun.  It’s a shame though, how little you know.  The American private school system really failed you.  However I am in a generous mood and have every  intention on catching you up to speed.  With a little help from a friend.”

On cue, the door opens and in walks his associate.  

Foley protests.  “Whoa, hey, this may have been incorrect info you got.  I’m not into THAT.”  

Sade grips his hair at the root.  “Have my boot as a snack while the adults talk.”  Stomping her foot in front of him, Foley bends down on the concrete floor to kiss and lick her shoe.

Sade sighs, wiping her brow.  “Babysitting is so hard.  What took you so long Erik?”

He unbuttons his jacket sighing.  “His fucking card wouldn’t go through upstairs.  So this muthafucka owe me his life and some change now.”  

Erik picks up Foley’s pants, ruffling through his pockets for his wallet.

“Whoa, bro, what are you doing?  You aren’t a part of this!”  Foley says.  

Sade was not pleased with this interruption, bringing her boot around to land it squarely with his chin.  The crack of the impact echoed in the room as Foley flopped on his back, writhing in pain.

“What...the….FUCK!”  He yells out, blood starting to coat his fingers.

“Damn, Sade!”  Erik exclaimed, staring at his girl.

Sade inspects her boot.  “Shit, he got a damn scuff in it, now I’m really pissed.  Tie his ass up so we can move on.”  

Erik handles Foley like a ragdoll, turning him over and using Sade’s ropes to tie his hands behind his back.

“You fucking niggers don’t know who you’re dealing with!”  Foley says through clenched teeth.  

Erik pulls him up by his arms over to a part of the wall with a collar and chain attached to it.  Turning Foley around, he hooks his neck up to the contraption.

“You really want them to be your last words, bitch ass cunt?”   Erik says, tightening the collar on the last possible notch.   “Gotta use they language to get to em sometimes.”  Erik says to Sade.

Foley laughs nervously as tears fill his eyes.  “I could make you rich, man.  Get your mom out the ghetto.  You got any siblings?  You could take them anywhere!  I’ll turn your life around in ways you never seen, just let me out of here with this bitch!”

Sade sits on a stool trying to buff out the mark on her shoe.  “Erik, his voice is annoying me…”  She says in a sing-songy manner.  

Erik pulls out Foley’s phone from his pants pocket, holding it up to his face to unlock it.  

“Fuck!  I shoulda known that facial unlock would bite me in the ass.”

Erik opens his camera to take some pictures.  “Aww, shit!  You finna be the Belle of the Ball once these circulate through your contacts.  No way your bros at the Capitol can clean this mess up.”  Erik laughs, showing the gallery to Foley, who is whining for mercy.

“Come on!  Don’t do this!  Let’s talk this over!  You need some money?  Let me give you something something, and we can work this out.  No harm no foul!”

“Give him your bank login, we’ll handle the rest.”  Sade instructs from across the room.”

Foley shifts, blinking the sweat out of his eyes.  “I-I mean, you don’t wanna give me a figure first-”

Erik sends a strong blow to Foley’s gut, knocking the wind and dignity out of him.

“O...k…” Foley rasps as he coughs through his username and password for Erik to set up a transfer.

“Thanks for the paycheck, bro.”  Erik, takes some leather gloves off of a table, sliding them, flexing his fingers.  “No way in hell you can help me while you still got breath in your body.  And ain’t shit you can do for me.  That neighborhood you wanna run over so fuckin bad ain’t yours to take.  White folks can’t never miss out on a land deal, fuckin colonizers.”

Foley struggled against his bindings, becoming agitated.  “I am providing a service!  Something that will make their world better!”

Erik punches the wall next to his head, cracking the concrete.  “A world you ain’t got no plan to let them in?  They already got a place to stay, and you want them outta there cuz the living is too cheap and they barely affording that.  So instead of working for them, you’re just gonna build shit that they can’t afford, segregating them even more until they gotta leave.  Turning half the shit into fucking parking lots any damn way.”

Foley breathes heavily, swallowing hard.  “It’s so disappointing to hear you settling for less, bro.  It really is…”

Sade comes up behind Erik, handing him a club and brass knuckles.  

“I don’t need that shit, I got this.”  Erik insists with a wink.

Sade rolls her eyes.  “Try not to get blood on your clothes.  We have dinner reservations in an hour.”

As Erik takes off his jacket and dress shirt. Foley says, “Aye, what was it you said before?  Roaches always surviving?  What’s it to you when they’ll find another hole to crawl into?  Making babies and killing themselves, it’s the circle of life.  I'm just tired of seeing your Black asses fucking with my city.”

Erik reaches behind his back near his waistband to swiftly take take out his military issue knife, grabbing Foley by his neck, slamming his head into the wall.  As Foley neck folds sheath his hand, Erik brings the knife slowly to his eye socket as Foley closes his eyelids tightly.  That only makes the process more messy as he screams in excruciating pain while Erik skillfully gouges him.

“There.  Now you aint gotta see shit. That better?”  Sade says, walking away at this point when all she heard was the pounding of Erik’s fist in bone.  Foley’s feebled cries in pain didn’t last long when Erik socked him in his mouth, making him swallow his own teeth.  Sounded as if he even indulged in the knuckles and the club after all, as he dared Foley to say something again, until it was impossible to do so Sade sat in her seat, reviewing her manicure as the cacophony of pounds into Foley’s body turned soft.

Erik’s breathing was the only thing left as he made his way back over to Sade with a wild nature in his eyes, and blood coating his knuckles and face.

“Ohhh, look at you!  You’re never careful when I ask you to!”  Sade scolds him as she pulls out a handkerchief and water, wiping down his hands.

“You know how I get carried away in the moment.”  Erik says, voice gravelly as he stares at Sade.

Sade finishes off his hands, reaching for his face to clean.  “Mhm, I know.  Lucky for you, I brought a spare undershirt to change.  What about your pants…”  Sade brushed some dust near his crotch, feeling his dick twitch under her touch.  “That is enough!  I’m not cancelling this dinner.  It's been weeks in the making!”

Erik bites his lip, leaning over Sade as she digs through her bag.  “You blaming me when you out here dressed like that, kicking white folks in the face and not expecting me to wanna fuck you for that?”

Sade reaches for the collar of his shirt, tearing it halfway off his him with a blade between her teeth.  She takes it and aims it over his chest.  “You know how we celebrate…”

Applying pressure, she drags it slowly across his skin, red liquid bubbling along the length of the cut as Erik seethed.  The satisfying release of his skin allowing the penetration of her blade made her breath hitch in her chest. “We got another one, we mark the occasion.  Without him contacting his people in DC, no way they can settle a vote to gentrify now.”  

Sade runs her thumb along the blood trickling out, wiping it clean before bring her face in his chest to lick his wound.  The soft, muskiness of his skin is too tempting for her to let go as she caresses his chest.

Erik sighs deeply, taking one hand to grab her ass and the other wraps her braids around its knuckles pulling her face back as he devours her mouth hungrily.  Erik lifts her up and onto a nearby table with a thud, pulling her skirt up to her waist as she reaches to free him from his trousers.

“Ooh, dont make me scar your back up now.  This is lucky number 57?”  Sade chuckles as Erik brings ankles to his shoulders, leaning over her.

The way Erik looks at her, one might think she was his sworn enemy.  But this is Erik’s favorite time with Sade.  Not just fucking, but taking out white folks that aren’t doing shit for anyone but themselves, leaving a trail of dead brown and black bodies behind them.  Doing this vigilante justice together never got old.

“Try me. And a lot more to come.”  Erik promises as Sade kisses his keloid riddled arm, biting down once he entered her.

Sade peppered Erik with affection as they fucked.  Their roles easily switched from business to pleasure.  Sade being the brains behind most of the operations, and Erik being the muscle, all he needed was to be told where to go and he had the rest.  But as lovers, Erik took control of her, and she needed that change of pace.  

As Erik reaches for her throat, he put his weight on her, lapping at her neck as he digs her out desperately.  Sade gasped with each stroke he dropped inside of her, seeing stars as her breath quickened.  Her head fell to one side as she got a full view of the damage Erik did to Foley’s body.  The bruising, the bone jutting from his skin, blood pooling near his collapsed skull was all too much for Sade.   She came so hard, Erik nearly slipped in her wetness flooding between them, tightening up on Erik until he contributed his own fluids to their celebration.

Erik lays still on top of her panting.  “How much time left we got on the room?”

Sade rubs his back, still smooth but hopefully not for long once they continue their mission.  “45 minutes.”  She smacks his shoulders, willing him to roll off of her.  “You’re cleaning up by yourself this time.  Your dick is making me miss dinner, I’ve suffered enough.”

Erik laughs slow and deeply as he rubs his face, satisfied all the same.  “You need a mop-iana?”

RagTag  (it’s been so long since I wrote, I’m forgetting who likes to be tagged)

@chaneajoyyy @bidibidibombaclaat @wakanda-inspired

#erik killmonger fanfic #black panther fanfic #withlovefromwakanda #shakafic #fanfic

[illtalktoyoureyes-blog]

PODCAST BROS. AU

I. Bros being bros and podcasting about nerd shit.

II. The podcast has approximately four listeners, the most dedicated among them being Mike's mom. (Mike has repeatedly told his mother not to listen because it "makes him nervous.") This number fluctuates depending on the time of day, the weather, and the amount of disparaging remarks  Dustin makes about the DC cinematic universe.

III. There is much discussion of comic books, superheroes, table top games, film adaptations, sci-fi and fantasy authors, ethics in journalism, cosplay, the Nintendo switch, what the hell is taking George R. R. Martin so long does he understand his readership will probably be dead before he publishes another book? and other topics salient to college-age nerds under the impression their dedication to their hobbies could someday pay their bills.

IV. Following in the illustrious footsteps of Matt Bessar, they live-stream their Saturday night D&D games. (Dustin: Hey guys, just wanted to give you a quick update. Mike's basement is still disgusting.") The results range from palatable mediocrity to hitherto unseen levels of chaos. The comments page would be a mess...you know, if people left comments.

V. Their first guest is an amazing, unbelievable get. El Ives has written four volumes of the Wizards of Gale series- a staggering, gorgeous epic chronicling the coming of age of a young psychically gifted warrior traversing a galactic wasteland in search of her true purpose-in the last three years. She's gone on national tours, topped sci-fi best-seller lists, and was proposed to roughly thirty-seven times at New York comic-con. Naturally, the dudes freak out, but Mike's is the most memorable melt down. He talks to himself in the mirror in a pre-interview hype session, he drops his note cards, stares for inappropriate lengths of time, and generally makes everyone ridiculously uncomfortable.

VI. After the stress of her tour, the casual atmosphere of the podcast (with the exception of the host who makes tense, terrifying eye contact with her before avoiding her gaze for the rest of the day) is a novelty El is reluctant to relinquish. This explains hanging around Hawkins ("You're welcome to stay at our place." Dustin volunteers before Mike can open his large, endlessly stupid mouth.) despite having deadlines, and interviews and a whole life in Manhattan. They take her to all their lame hang-outs and Mike dies several deaths due to sheer embarrassment (Humiliate Wheeler To Death Tour 2017!)

VII. This is the thing. The thing is this: despite the fact that they've been doing this for like, four months, and no one is even really listening Mike is still absurdly nervous on air? Lucas and Dustin are naturals and Will chimes in when he really wants to make a point (he's often drowned out by the intensity of Dustin\Lucas debates but whenever he manages to incline his chin toward the mic and deliver his statements in the softest, least antagonistic voice ever created, his points are salient and logical and even occasionally border on poignant) but it take s Mike at least fifteen minutes to get comfortable uttering opinions he has no trouble voicing off air. It's disconcerting and weird, and he's envious of the casual way his friends interact on air. They're natural, as if there aren't any disparities between their on air personalities and their real life ones. They're completely comfortable, Mike has to calm down, close his eyes, remember his pre-air inspirational speech, really center himself before he can engage in way that's even close to natural. (Even then, his voice is a touch too high, his sentences come out blunt and semi-intelligible, and his jokes feel more like passive aggressive indictments of other people's moral characters than "ha ha" funnies. These delightful and attractive flaws are only exacerbated by the prolonged presence of one of his literary heroes who, in addition to being funny, clever, sincere, brutally honest, and genuinely down for anything re: appearing on a D&D role-playing channel with four losers, has the audacity to love Ray Bradbury and Farscape as much as he does. It's the fucking rudest.)

VIII. To make matters worse, she loves his friends. Lucas is the most charming mother fucker alive (dude has a certificate!) and Mike hates him for the ease with which he makes El laugh so hard she cries. He then hates himself for hating Lucas, up until the asshole does it again and El looks happier than a ten year old who was just informed she gets to live at Disney Land. Witnessing the vast depths of El's joy is probably the purest experience Mike ever has. Said joy is a product of Lucas recounting any number of stories starring himself as the witty, amazing, bad ass of their high school tenure. So, dilemma. She and Will exchange book recommendations, karaoke Fridays at Lester's is forever altered the moment she and Dustin duet on a gentle, soul-melting rendition of Head Over Heels (they're terrible singers, but the power man, the subtle emotive, power) and Lucas, Lucas is everywhere, buying her drinks, and talking about how there are certain paragraphs in book three he wants to live in, and complimenting her buzz cut, and constantly and at all times making her laugh so long, and hard and with her entire body and it's so fucking unfair Mike can't actually-

IX. In local news, Lucas and Dustin are living in a shoebox across the river from Mike's house. Will is over so often he is repeatedly mistaken for a piece of furniture. He has his own shelf in the fridge (the middle), his own snacks in the cabinet (fig newtons are more than fruit and cake) and coconut shampoo he's neglected to take home and which is become the official property of the estate. Dustin likes to think of his abode as a sovereign nation, wants desperately to draw up a constitution and design a flag. Lucas likes to think of his casa as a Dustin-free zone, and is disappointed upon opening his door and finding reality has very much crushed his hopes and dreams. There is very little sleep, the occupants are lucky to claim several consecutive hours of unconsciousness. Instead, there are twitch marathons, Netflix binges, LOTR re-watches, and intense, lengthy debates over the merits of Zack Snyder being shot into space verses the efficiency of simply setting him ablaze.

X. Will is fond of lying on the couch, or on the window seat or on the floor next to Lucas' mattress and telling him all the ideas that his ridiculous brain ushers forth when he can't sleep. Lucas gently reminds him of the graphic novel he's kind of, sort of, a little bit working on-the thing he starts last year and politely but stubbornly refuses to show him any more pages once Lucas becomes a living, breathing reminder that Will could maybe think about possibly publishing it because It's Good. To be fair, saying the words aloud, letting them take shape in the air is almost like working on it. It's very, very close.

XI. Eventually, Mike realizes that contrary to initial reports, he's actually jealous of two people. Yes Lucas making El laugh is fairly fucking infuriating, but so is the knowledge that Lucas is trying so hard to make someone laugh, and that that someone (for reasons he is painfully, intimately familiar with) is NOT him. Pre-graduation, post-two a.m.  silent, sexuality-specific  realization that takes place in an Arby's parking lot, Mike and Lucas are the most accurate visual representation for best friendship that has ever, or will ever live. Their bond is unshakable, the stuff of Census Bearu legend, the canniest, most argumentative, absurdly affectionate, gleefully contrary pairing so robust and unrelenting it caused even the most patient members of their tight-knit Indiana State study circle to routinely throw up their hands and avert their eyes, yelling, "That's enough! Put it away!" One sunny, late-fall afternoon, they're picking up the thread of an ongoing Alien vs. Aliens debate (Lucas: I'm so glad your mom's not here to listen to her son humiliate himself like this. It would break her heart.") which has ascended to the intensity level that warrants standing very close and screaming as though they are not standing very close, when quite suddenly, they are no longer arguing. The discovery of another item in a long list of things they are hopelessly good at when they combine their talents, takes up the entire afternoon and most of the evening. The surprised, but strong, and ultimately righteous sense of joy\awe is conflated by the subdued, giddy knowledge that what has been in the past for Mike a rare and somewhat lackluster experience, and for Lucas, a little less rare but equally mediocre 'event' currently feels like the wide expanse of potentiality specific to scientific exploration. So there's that.

XII. It doesn't last too long, when he allows himself to think about it Mike abjectly refuses to liken the duration of the event to anything stupid, like a metaphor about supernovas. That would be dumb. And crass. And in poor taste. Plus, he hardly ever thinks about it ever, so there's that. Anyway, Mike dropping out of Indiana state and returning to the cocoon of his mother's basement is a completely unrelated event that never ever needs to be recounted, not even for posterity, except to say that it's unrelated to anything going on in his life at the moment. And it's okay, because he and Lucas are still ridiculously close friends and it's never even awkward except for the few occasions wherein Mike succumbs to jealously, before becoming confused about exactly whom he's jealous off. After he figures it out, he's moody and distant and the podcast gets Weird in only the way Mike can make it. El is confused, 'cause once the dude stops staring and actually says a few words to her, he's kind of cool in this completely doofy way. Lucas eventually plops on the end of Mike's bed, allows Mike to put his dirty, uncivilized sneakers all over his fairly expensive pants and makes a fumbling preamble that might as well be called Intro to Awk Con. It goes okay. Mike's just tired and Lucas co-signs with  a sigh, and a story about his sister, and they talk around it because it's still-they-can't-There's grumbling about the complete absence of something that could even be mistaken for a fan base, and Dustin's rants, and a general consensus on the awesomeness of El and they both feel better after that.

XIII. Lucas might have a supremely underdeveloped thing for Will? It's like, super embryonic, not even worth thinking about much less trying to explain out loud to Will's face while he stands there looking cute and curious and hesitant about the stupid notebook he's been doodling in for like a year, even though what little bits Lucas has seen of the novel that Will's mortified about having written  is so good he'd buy it tomorrow if Will would only deign to finish the damn thing. Yeah. So El hangs around Hawkins, after slaving away in his emotional garden wearing a wide-brim hat and too much sunscreen, Mike manages to grow the courage necessary to ask her to dine at his mom's house (yes, his mom has had El over for dinner roughly a thousand times, and yes her laugsana  with the signature sauce has become one of El's favorite dishes, but owing to the fact that Mike has spent ninety-five percent of those roughly thousands of evenings in his room melting down and wishing he was a person who could handle this shit, they don't actually count.), Will finishes his summer drawing course at the learning annex, because his phone storage is unable to contend with the sheer volume of photos he takes of and with El in the last couple of weeks\months (?) Dustin gets Instagram and instantly gains a thousand followers, and Lucas comes to the conclusion that's actually amazing at this podcast thing? Like honestly, he's very talented. And he's never taken one communication course!

XIV. El heads back to New York, promising to visit when she can. Mike admirably hides his heartbreak, and gallantly takes his frustration out on a pacman machine during their afternoon at the arcade. (Mike Wheeler: Frustrated Bisexual) A couple months later, they all receive signed copies of the next Wizards of Gale book with special messages scribbled on the inside covers. A couple of weeks before that, they post their El interview, and the site it takes Dustin two, painful, sleepless weeks to build experiences a significant amount of traffic for the first time in its uneventful little life. Everyone freaks out and facetimes El who's mid interview on the Teresa Watkins show, and that's how they attain their first television interview. (El: I'm sorry, this is so unprofessional. Do you mind?)

XV. Bros being bros, podcasting about nerd shit. (Dustin: How were you received by the dudebro cheeto dust contingent? I assume they're treating you well? They're super classy individuals.)

XVI. Oh, and Hopper is El's manager\literary agent? Okay? Okay.

#weird occurrences #I'm fairly certain this will be story number iii.

[quowreadspact]

Collateral 4.1

“A living manifestation of conquest?” I asked.

“I would hesitate to say ‘alive’.”

“He’s the horseman?  One of the four riders of the apocalypse?”

“Yes and no.  There are other Conquests, who take different forms based on their history and the eras and events they drew power from.  For all intents and purposes, you can consider incarnations to be powerful spirits, often ones with human hosts or an attachment to an object of particular design, an implement without an owner.  Some agencies contrive to bring these incarnations into being to suit their devices.  Is there an agency invested in the apocalypse and Conquest’s part in that?  Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking.”

“What way, then?”

“The apocalypse is an idea with some traction, as are the four horsemen.  Some want to use that traction.”

“Ah,” I said.  “I think I get what you mean.”

“Such agencies want a narrative, and an Incarnation of Conquest arising from Toronto is a weak narrative at best.  If such things come to pass, speculation suggests that another, greater Conquest would find, best, and absorb all its lesser kin for strength before taking action.”

That’s just what I was saying... Anyways. So there are a bunch of Conquests milling about. Thats a bit scary. I wonder where other ones are.

I bet theres a really strong one in Washington DC. 

“And nobody’s about to remove the local Conquest from the picture, to keep that from happening?”

“There are bigger things at play, and an Incarnation isn’t a monster you defeat with a sword or gun.  It is an idea given life.  You support it and feed it through certain ideas, and you defeat it by taking the strength from that idea.  Most often, you accommodate them.  But anything powerful enough to become sentient and sapient isn’t something that’s going away anytime soon.”

“But if there’s no war-”

“He isn’t War, but Conquest.  Massed forces, takeovers, forced change.  He continues to find power in other ways. Yes, he prefers warfare and bloodshed, but he can draw power from the steady expansion of civilization into nature, from real estate, from business takeovers, government, law, and other small forms of tyranny.  As an Incarnation, he can invest his power.  Where Death might bring death to things by touching them, or Love might strike a couple through their hearts with a metaphorical arrow given form, Conquest can do the same.”

“So he’s like a god.”

“He is like a god,” my driver said.  “And we could go into a deep discussion of the common elements between gods and incarnations, the abstract versus the straightforward, but that’s outside of the bounds of your agreement with the firm, and I believe we’re on your street.”

Yup, definitely a strong one in Washington DC. Anyways this conquest will probably prove to play a big role in the end of this story. Obvious prediction, but I am making it anyway. 

And I was just wondering how much Blake was allowed to ask... 

I turned to look.  Sure enough, I was home.

Well the Lord of Toronto let you return here so technically I suppose he fulfilled that part of his promise... Though now I wonder if the LoT is bound by that ‘no lying’ rule. 

Hopefully Joel hadn’t evicted me.

“In terms of safety, after I’m in my apartment…”

“I’ve got that handled,” Rose piped up.  “I think.”

I turned to look to my right, stupidly, then looked at the mirror.  Sure enough, she was situated in the back seat, next to where I’d be if I had a reflection.

There was a stack of books beside her, I noted.

“I’ll take you upstairs,” my driver said.

I was correct, she has been doing some light reading. 

I gathered up the bags, while Rose grabbed her books in the mirror, and the driver opened the door for the both of us.

He had a book tucked under one arm.  I felt a moment’s trepidation.

This favor the lawyers were doing me wasn’t free.

“After you,” my lawyer told me, opening the front door of the building.

“Do I open the door to something ugly if implicitly invite you into the building?” I asked.

“No,” my driver said.  “Even if you did, it would be too late to do anything about it, as you implicitly invited us into the building when you asked for an escort to your apartment.”

I nodded.

“This is a stable area, Toronto is,” my escort said.  “I wouldn’t worry too much about trouble.  You know who your enemies in Jacob’s Bell are, and you should focus your efforts on those fronts.  You wouldn’t go amiss with a border around the apartment.”

That would be nice but I doubt it is going to be easy. 

“A border?”

“Something geometric.  There are two schools of thought in binding.  There is like binding like, and then there’s binding with the antithesis.  The former requires more raw power, but you generally won’t upset them so much.  I say generally, but some beings like conflict, and there are any number of other rules.”

It was kind of eerie, to see that the driver had personality.  Even to the point of geeking out about something.  I said, “I think I saw something about that in the Barber’s entry, in my grandmother’s books.”

“I read that.  Yes.  Good memory.  It’s easier to bind them with something that naturally opposes them.  In this case, you’d want something geometric and man-wrought to oppose beings that are more disordered and natural by their intrinsic natures.  Which is most things out there.  The more powerful they are, the more you’ll want and need in terms of protections.”

“Okay,” I said.

“That takes care of one of the local threats.  I might suggest a protective sign on the ceiling, for another.  And a ritual sprinkling of water at the perimeter of your apartment, on a regular schedule.  Doesn’t really matter how often, but it should be at a set time or set times every day, and you can’t miss a day or it won’t have an effect.”

My eye fell on the door to Joel’s apartment.  I really had to let him know I was okay.

But I focused on the man who was guiding me to safety.  “Is there an explanation for any of this?  Who or what it might be that I’m protecting myself against?”

“I’m already bending the rules by saying this.”

What’s this guy’s story? But yeah Blake please use defensive magic and make a FUCKING implement or SOMETHING. Please. Please. Please. 

“Why?” I asked.  When he didn’t give me a response, I asked,  “Why tell me this?  You don’t have to help like that.”

“I’m new to this.  I’ve only been at it for- for a little while.  I’m bound to make mistakes.”

“Why did you pause there?” I asked.  “How long have you been at it?”

“I don’t know.  I’ve lost track of the years.  Smart phones weren’t a thing when I started, though, if that’s any clue?”

I nodded.  “More than five years, then.”

“Five years,” he said, nodding slowly.  He looked up at me, “You wanted to know why I’m sharing details?  I like you, Mr. Thorburn.  I feel bad for you, we haven’t exactly talked much, but I think you’re one of the good ones.  Me taking you for a one-and-a-half hour drive into Toronto, getting stuck in traffic?  It’s a nice break.  It puts me in good spirits.  I think they know it puts me in good spirits, and they divvy up jobs like this to keep the newbies sane.”

“During your centuries or thousands of years of enslavement to the firm,” I said.

“Yeah.  From the clients who aren’t so fun.  Clients who hoard and have places packed from floor to ceiling with knick-knacks and body parts, clients who deal in pain and suffering like a banker deals in cash, or who do things that would have turned my stomach, back when I had compunctions.”

“I see,” I said.

“You really don’t.  But you might,” he said.

So basically Blake might end up like him and it’s not a great fate. Nice enough guy. I know we shouldn’t trust people but due to his origin I am inclined to trust and like him. 

“You’re assuming I’ll take the offer your firm is making?” I asked.

“I honestly don’t know if you will.  That wasn’t what I was saying.  There are a good few people out there who try dealing in the real powers, the scary ones your grandmother trafficked in.  Maybe a third survive, like your grandmother did.  Another third, they meet bad ends and they probably take people with them.  The last third, they get offered a way out, and they take that offer.”

“Like you did,” I said.

“I dabbled, I got in just deep enough to get into trouble, and get into debt,” he said.  “It doesn’t matter.  What does matter is the firm would like me to tell you the bill for the next deal you make with them.”

“The next deal?  They’re looking into the future?”

“Nothing so complicated.  This,” he said, handing me the book he held, “Is your payment for the supplies, the ride, the guarantee of safety and the arrangements we’ve made with the local Lord.  This is how you’ll pay us, the next time you make a deal.”

He handed me a piece of yellow paper.  Carbon paper.  I read it over.  A duration, a name, a two day duration, as well as notes made for any expenses being covered…

“An errand,” I said.

This is very ominous. This is either a messed up errand or a very difficult one. 

“Call it an internship,” he said.  “Carrying out the sort of job you would be doing if you accepted a deal with the firm.”

“Like you did, driving me,” I said.

“Very possible,” he said, smiling a bit.

“Or like one of the jobs you regularly do for the messed up ones, the real diabolists you and Ms. Lewis seem so damn relieved to get away from.”

“That is also very possible,” he said.

“So you don’t even know what the favor I’d be asking is, and you’re telling me how I’ll pay you back, in exchange?”

“They are, yes.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I stayed silent, folded up the paper, and stuck it in my back pocket.  I stopped walking.

No smile with the second one. 

Interesting that they already have the payment figured out though. Now whats this book? 

“This is your apartment?” he asked.

“It is.”

“There’s no particular rush to finish the book.  I believe the threat of a deal ignored and the impact to your karmic balance is enough incentive to follow through.”

I looked down at the book he’d given me.  Black Lamb’s Blood.

From the goat’s skull on the cover, the black leather and the script in shiny gold lettering, I knew it was a book on diabolism.  This was my payment for the services the firm had rendered me.  I had to read it, nothing more, nothing less.

“No traps?  No deceptions or situations where reading the wrong word will harm me or cause demons to leap out of the page?”  I already knew the answer, but I had to ask again.  The situation worried me too much.

“It is plain text, nothing more,” he assured me.  “You may or may not like what that text says, but I don’t think you’ll suffer.”

“It’s propaganda,” I said.

“Perhaps a little bit.  Your grandmother knew the author and was quite fond of her.  Had she been alive as the book was released, your grandmother would have paid for a copy to be delivered to her, and it would have a place on her bookshelf.  She would have no cause to warn you about anything inside.  It’s even one of the tamer books.”

I nodded, frowning.

A gateway book?  The thought made me think of some dumbassed campaign like ‘don’t do drugs, read!’.  Except books were more dangerous than drugs, in this world.

That doesn’t sound so bad. He has Rose to help ground him. His grandma probably wanted her inheritee to have this book.  I know its probably gonna cause something bad though... maybe it reveals a bunch of collateral damage that him and maybe his grandma caused? Or reveals more information about Rose that is bad??? 

“Once you’re inside, I’ll be on my way,” he said.

I let myself into the apartment, feeling a secret relief when the key turned successfully in the lock, and I turned to face my escort.

“Goodbye, Mr. Thorburn.  Best of luck.  Remember what I recommended, protection-wise.”

“You seemed decent enough,” I said.  “Thank you for the tips on self-protection.  I hope you get more easy jobs.”

“So do I, thank you.  Five hundred and seventy three years, four months, and four days to go, if I don’t make partner at some point.  I’m bound to get some of the easier jobs.”

His smile made it look like he might chuckle at his own joke.  Caught off guard by the sheer volume of years he’d presented, I couldn’t bring myself to match him smile for smile.

He gestured, tipping his nonexistent hat, and then turned to go.

Leaving me alone and relatively unprotected.

I thought he lost track of the years??? Or maybe he just keeps track of how much he has left but not how much he has done. Jesus. This poor dude. I wonder what making partner means. He does more of what the actual lawyers do? 

I’d get a move on Blake. You have much to do. 

Move, I thought.

I headed for the dining room, which I rarely used for dining.  Set beside the kitchen, it served as storage for all the boxes and kits I had no space for elsewhere.

I found my toolbox.  A loaner-turned-gift when a friend’s boyfriend had gone overseas and decided never to return.  Actually two toolboxes stacked on one another, with two rugged wheels for all terrain at one side, like luggage, it held all of the bits and pieces I’d collected while working.

Top toolbox was tools.  Hammers, saws, awls, hole-punches and far too many screwdrivers.  Not what I needed.

The lower toolbox was knick-knacks and materials.

Three rolls of painter’s tape and… there, a drywall t-square which had been abused and coated with plaster to the point that I could barely make out numbers.

I ripped a section free, then went to work.

I set to drawing out a border around the edge of the apartment.  Turning the apartment into a magic circle, or a magic rectangle, whatever.

I wasn’t sure how far my tape would go, so I went the simple route.  The t-square let me quickly define triangles, which I taped out.  Triangles were a sturdy shape, right?  Architecturally sound?  Three points, three sides.

I was winging this.  Doing what I could.

Don’t you have like, a laptop or something to google with? I guess he is trying to be quick. I do think triangles are strong though. 

Rose, you got any input??? 

Who were the other threats?  Laird?  I wasn’t sure what he’d throw at me.  Sandra?  That meant Faerie.

Or an ex-husband. 

#Collateral 4.1 #4.1 #text

[fenton-bus]

PODCAST BROS. AU

I. Bros being bros and podcasting about nerd stuff.

II. The podcast has approximately four listeners, the most dedicated among them being Mike's mom. (Mike has repeatedly told his mother not to listen because it "makes him nervous.") This number fluctuates depending on the time of day, the weather, and the amount of disparaging remarks  Dustin makes about the DC cinematic universe.

III. There is much discussion of comic books, superheroes, table top games, film adaptations, sci-fi and fantasy authors, ethics in journalism, cosplay, the Nintendo switch, what the hell is taking George R. R. Martin so long does he understand his readership will probably be dead before he publishes another book? and other topics salient to college-age nerds under the impression their dedication to their hobbies could someday pay their bills.

IV. Following in the illustrious footsteps of Matt Bessar, they live-stream their Saturday night D&D games. (Dustin: Hey guys, just wanted to give you a quick update. Mike's basement is still disgusting.") The results range from palatable mediocrity to hitherto unseen levels of chaos. The comments page would be a mess...you know, if people left comments.

V. Their first guest is an amazing, unbelievable get. El Ives has written four volumes of the Wizards of Gale series- a staggering, gorgeous epic chronicling the coming of age of a young psychically gifted warrior traversing a galactic wasteland in search of her true purpose-in the last three years. She's gone on national tours, topped sci-fi best-seller lists, and was proposed to roughly thirty-seven times at New York comic-con. Naturally, the dudes freak out, but Mike's is the most memorable melt down. He talks to himself in the mirror in a pre-interview hype session, he drops his note cards, stares for inappropriate lengths of time, and generally makes everyone ridiculously uncomfortable.

VI. After the stress of her tour, the casual atmosphere of the podcast (with the exception of the host who makes tense, terrifying eye contact with her before avoiding her gaze for the rest of the day) is a novelty El is reluctant to relinquish. This explains hanging around Hawkins ("You're welcome to stay at our place." Dustin volunteers before Mike can open his large, endlessly stupid mouth.) despite having deadlines, and interviews and a whole life in Manhattan. They take her to all their lame hang-outs and Mike dies several deaths due to sheer embarrassment (Humiliate Wheeler To Death Tour 2017!)

VII. This is the thing. The thing is this: despite the fact that they've been doing this for like, four months, and no one is even really listening Mike is still absurdly nervous on air? Lucas and Dustin are naturals and Will chimes in when he really wants to make a point (he's often drowned out by the intensity of Dustin\Lucas debates but whenever he manages to incline his chin toward the mic and deliver his statements in the softest, least antagonistic voice ever created, his points are salient and logical and even occasionally border on poignant) but it take s Mike at least fifteen minutes to get comfortable uttering opinions he has no trouble voicing off air. It's disconcerting and weird, and he's envious of the casual way his friends interact on air. They're natural, as if there aren't any disparities between their on air personalities and their real life ones. They're completely comfortable, Mike has to calm down, close his eyes, remember his pre-air inspirational speech, really center himself before he can engage in way that's even close to natural. (Even then, his voice is a touch too high, his sentences come out blunt and semi-intelligible, and his jokes feel more like passive aggressive indictments of other people's moral characters than "ha ha" funnies. These delightful and attractive flaws are only exacerbated by the prolonged presence of one of his literary heroes who, in addition to being funny, clever, sincere, brutally honest, and genuinely down for anything re: appearing on a D&D role-playing channel with four losers, has the audacity to love Ray Bradbury and Farscape as much as he does. It's the fucking rudest.)

VIII. To make matters worse, she loves his friends. Lucas is the most charming mother fucker alive (dude has a certificate!) and Mike hates him for the ease with which he makes El laugh so hard she cries. He then hates himself for hating Lucas, up until the asshole does it again and El looks happier than a ten year old who was just informed she gets to live at Disney Land. Witnessing the vast depths of El's joy is probably the purest experience Mike ever has. Said joy is a product of Lucas recounting any number of stories starring himself as the witty, amazing, bad ass of their high school tenure. So, dilemma. She and Will exchange book recommendations, karaoke Fridays at Lester's is forever altered the moment she and Dustin duet on a gentle, soul-melting rendition of Head Over Heels (they're terrible singers, but the power man, the subtle emotive, power) and Lucas, Lucas is everywhere, buying her drinks, and talking about how there are certain paragraphs in book three he wants to live in, and complimenting her buzz cut, and constantly and at all times making her laugh so long, and hard and with her entire body and it's so fucking unfair Mike can't actually-

IX. In local news, Lucas and Dustin are living in a shoebox across the river from Mike's house. Will is over so often he is repeatedly mistaken for a piece of furniture. He has his own shelf in the fridge (the middle), his own snacks in the cabinet (fig newtons are more than fruit and cake) and coconut shampoo he's neglected to take home and which is become the official property of the estate. Dustin likes to think of his abode as a sovereign nation, wants desperately to draw up a constitution and design a flag. Lucas likes to think of his casa as a Dustin-free zone, and is disappointed upon opening his door and finding reality has very much crushed his hopes and dreams. There is very little sleep, the occupants are lucky to claim several consecutive hours of unconsciousness. Instead, there are twitch marathons, Netflix binges, LOTR re-watches, and intense, lengthy debates over the merits of Zack Snyder being shot into space verses the efficiency of simply setting him ablaze.

X. Will is fond of lying on the couch, or on the window seat or on the floor next to Lucas' mattress and telling him all the ideas that his ridiculous brain ushers forth when he can't sleep. Lucas gently reminds him of the graphic novel he's kind of, sort of, a little bit working on-the thing he starts last year and politely but stubbornly refuses to show him any more pages once Lucas becomes a living, breathing reminder that Will could maybe think about possibly publishing it because It's Good. To be fair, saying the words aloud, letting them take shape in the air is almost like working on it. It's very, very close.

XI. Eventually, Mike realizes that contrary to initial reports, he's actually jealous of two people. Yes Lucas making El laugh is fairly fucking infuriating, but so is the knowledge that Lucas is trying so hard to make someone laugh, and that that someone (for reasons he is painfully, intimately familiar with) is NOT him. Pre-graduation, post-two a.m.  silent, sexuality-specific  realization that takes place in an Arby's parking lot, Mike and Lucas are the most accurate visual representation for best friendship that has ever, or will ever live. Their bond is unshakable, the stuff of Census Bearu legend, the canniest, most argumentative, absurdly affectionate, gleefully contrary pairing so robust and unrelenting it caused even the most patient members of their tight-knit Indiana State study circle to routinely throw up their hands and avert their eyes, yelling, "That's enough! Put it away!" One sunny, late-fall afternoon, they're picking up the thread of an ongoing Alien vs. Aliens debate (Lucas: I'm so glad your mom's not here to listen to her son humiliate himself like this. It would break her heart.") which has ascended to the intensity level that warrants standing very close and screaming as though they are not standing very close, when quite suddenly, they are no longer arguing. The discovery of another item in a long list of things they are hopelessly good at when they combine their talents, takes up the entire afternoon and most of the evening. The surprised, but strong, and ultimately righteous sense of joy\awe is conflated by the subdued, giddy knowledge that what has been in the past for Mike a rare and somewhat lackluster experience, and for Lucas, a little less rare but equally mediocre 'event' currently feels like the wide expanse of potentiality specific to scientific exploration. So there's that.

XII. It doesn't last too long, when he allows himself to think about it Mike abjectly refuses to liken the duration of the event to anything stupid, like a metaphor about supernovas. That would be dumb. And crass. And in poor taste. Plus, he hardly ever thinks about it ever, so there's that. Anyway, Mike dropping out of Indiana state and returning to the cocoon of his mother's basement is a completely unrelated event that never ever needs to be recounted, not even for posterity, except to say that it's unrelated to anything going on in his life at the moment. And it's okay, because he and Lucas are still ridiculously close friends and it's never even awkward except for the few occasions wherein Mike succumbs to jealously, before becoming confused about exactly whom he's jealous off. After he figures it out, he's moody and distant and the podcast gets Weird in only the way Mike can make it. El is confused, 'cause once the dude stops staring and actually says a few words to her, he's kind of cool in this completely doofy way. Lucas eventually plops on the end of Mike's bed, allows Mike to put his dirty, uncivilized sneakers all over his fairly expensive pants and makes a fumbling preamble that might as well be called Intro to Awk Con. It goes okay. Mike's just tired and Lucas co-signs with  a sigh, and a story about his sister, and they talk around it because it's still-they-can't-There's grumbling about the complete absence of something that could even be mistaken for a fan base, and Dustin's rants, and a general consensus on the awesomeness of El and they both feel better after that.

XIII. Lucas might have a supremely underdeveloped thing for Will? It's like, super embryonic, not even worth thinking about much less trying to explain out loud to Will's face while he stands there looking cute and curious and hesitant about the stupid notebook he's been doodling in for like a year, even though what little bits Lucas has seen of the novel that Will's mortified about having written  is so good he'd buy it tomorrow if Will would only deign to finish the damn thing. Yeah. So El hangs around Hawkins, after slaving away in his emotional garden wearing a wide-brim hat and too much sunscreen, Mike manages to grow the courage necessary to ask her to dine at his mom's house (yes, his mom has had El over for dinner roughly a thousand times, and yes her laugsana with the signature sauce has become one of El's favorite dishes, but owing to the fact that Mike has spent ninety-five percent of those roughly thousands of evenings in his room melting down and wishing he was a person who could handle this shit, they don't actually count.), Will finishes his summer drawing course at the learning annex, because his phone storage is unable to contend with the sheer volume of photos he takes of and with El in the last couple of weeks\months (?) Dustin gets Instagram and instantly gains a thousand followers, and Lucas comes to the conclusion that's actually amazing at this podcast thing? Like honestly, he's very talented. And he's never taken one communication course!

XIV. El heads back to New York, promising to visit when she can. Mike admirably hides his heartbreak, and gallantly takes his frustration out on a pacman machine during their afternoon at the arcade. (Mike Wheeler: Frustrated Bisexual) A couple months later, they all receive signed copies of the next Wizards of Gale book with special messages scribbled on the inside covers. A couple of weeks before that, they post their El interview, and the site it takes Dustin two, painful, sleepless weeks to build experiences a significant amount of traffic for the first time in its uneventful little life. Everyone freaks out and facetimes El who's mid interview on the Teresa Watkins show, and that's how they attain their first television interview. (El: I'm sorry, this is so unprofessional. Do you mind?)

XV. Bros being bros, podcasting about nerd stuff. (Dustin: How were you received by the dudebro cheeto dust contingent? I assume they're treating you well? They're super classy individuals.)

XVI. Oh, and Hopper is El's manager\literary agent? Okay? Okay.

#modern woe aus #outlines and outliers #stand by goonies: the extraterrestrial #Hellscapes for Kids! #in media res #junior mystery inc

[magnaturbaestinurbe-blog]

PODCAST BROS. AU

I. Bros being bros and podcasting about nerd stuff.

II. The podcast has approximately four listeners, the most dedicated among them being Mike's mom. (Mike has repeatedly told his mother not to listen because it "makes him nervous.") This number fluctuates depending on the time of day, the weather, and the amount of disparaging remarks  Dustin makes about the DC cinematic universe.

III. There is much discussion of comic books, superheroes, table top games, film adaptations, sci-fi and fantasy authors, ethics in journalism, cosplay, the Nintendo switch, what the hell is taking George R. R. Martin so long does he understand his readership will probably be dead before he publishes another book? and other topics salient to college-age nerds under the impression their dedication to their hobbies could someday pay their bills.

IV. Following in the illustrious footsteps of Matt Bessar, they live-stream their Saturday night D&D games. (Dustin: Hey guys, just wanted to give you a quick update. Mike's basement is still disgusting.") The results range from palatable mediocrity to hitherto unseen levels of chaos. The comments page would be a mess...you know, if people left comments.

V. Their first guest is an amazing, unbelievable get. El Ives has written four volumes of the Wizards of Gale series- a staggering, gorgeous epic chronicling the coming of age of a young psychically gifted warrior traversing a galactic wasteland in search of her true purpose-in the last three years. She's gone on national tours, topped sci-fi best-seller lists, and was proposed to roughly thirty-seven times at New York comic-con. Naturally, the dudes freak out, but Mike's is the most memorable melt down. He talks to himself in the mirror in a pre-interview hype session, he drops his note cards, stares for inappropriate lengths of time, and generally makes everyone ridiculously uncomfortable.

VI. After the stress of her tour, the casual atmosphere of the podcast (with the exception of the host who makes tense, terrifying eye contact with her before avoiding her gaze for the rest of the day) is a novelty El is reluctant to relinquish. This explains hanging around Hawkins ("You're welcome to stay at our place." Dustin volunteers before Mike can open his large, endlessly stupid mouth.) despite having deadlines, and interviews and a whole life in Manhattan. They take her to all their lame hang-outs and Mike dies several deaths due to sheer embarrassment (Humiliate Wheeler To Death Tour 2017!)

VII. This is the thing. The thing is this: despite the fact that they've been doing this for like, four months, and no one is even really listening Mike is still absurdly nervous on air? Lucas and Dustin are naturals and Will chimes in when he really wants to make a point (he's often drowned out by the intensity of Dustin\Lucas debates but whenever he manages to incline his chin toward the mic and deliver his statements in the softest, least antagonistic voice ever created, his points are salient and logical and even occasionally border on poignant) but it take s Mike at least fifteen minutes to get comfortable uttering opinions he has no trouble voicing off air. It's disconcerting and weird, and he's envious of the casual way his friends interact on air. They're natural, as if there aren't any disparities between their on air personalities and their real life ones. They're completely comfortable, Mike has to calm down, close his eyes, remember his pre-air inspirational speech, really center himself before he can engage in way that's even close to natural. (Even then, his voice is a touch too high, his sentences come out blunt and semi-intelligible, and his jokes feel more like passive aggressive indictments of other people's moral characters than "ha ha" funnies. These delightful and attractive flaws are only exacerbated by the prolonged presence of one of his literary heroes who, in addition to being funny, clever, sincere, brutally honest, and genuinely down for anything re: appearing on a D&D role-playing channel with four losers, has the audacity to love Ray Bradbury and Farscape as much as he does. It's the fucking rudest.)

VIII. To make matters worse, she loves his friends. Lucas is the most charming mother fucker alive (dude has a certificate!) and Mike hates him for the ease with which he makes El laugh so hard she cries. He then hates himself for hating Lucas, up until the asshole does it again and El looks happier than a ten year old who was just informed she gets to live at Disney Land. Witnessing the vast depths of El's joy is probably the purest experience Mike ever has. Said joy is a product of Lucas recounting any number of stories starring himself as the witty, amazing, bad ass of their high school tenure. So, dilemma. She and Will exchange book recommendations, karaoke Fridays at Lester's is forever altered the moment she and Dustin duet on a gentle, soul-melting rendition of Head Over Heels (they're terrible singers, but the power man, the subtle emotive, power) and Lucas, Lucas is everywhere, buying her drinks, and talking about how there are certain paragraphs in book three he wants to live in, and complimenting her buzz cut, and constantly and at all times making her laugh so long, and hard and with her entire body and it's so fucking unfair Mike can't actually-

IX. In local news, Lucas and Dustin are living in a shoebox across the river from Mike's house. Will is over so often he is repeatedly mistaken for a piece of furniture. He has his own shelf in the fridge (the middle), his own snacks in the cabinet (fig newtons are more than fruit and cake) and coconut shampoo he's neglected to take home and which is become the official property of the estate. Dustin likes to think of his abode as a sovereign nation, wants desperately to draw up a constitution and design a flag. Lucas likes to think of his casa as a Dustin-free zone, and is disappointed upon opening his door and finding reality has very much crushed his hopes and dreams. There is very little sleep, the occupants are lucky to claim several consecutive hours of unconsciousness. Instead, there are twitch marathons, Netflix binges, LOTR re-watches, and intense, lengthy debates over the merits of Zack Snyder being shot into space verses the efficiency of simply setting him ablaze.

X. Will is fond of lying on the couch, or on the window seat or on the floor next to Lucas' mattress and telling him all the ideas that his ridiculous brain ushers forth when he can't sleep. Lucas gently reminds him of the graphic novel he's kind of, sort of, a little bit working on-the thing he starts last year and politely but stubbornly refuses to show him any more pages once Lucas becomes a living, breathing reminder that Will could maybe think about possibly publishing it because It's Good. To be fair, saying the words aloud, letting them take shape in the air is almost like working on it. It's very, very close.

XI. Eventually, Mike realizes that contrary to initial reports, he's actually jealous of two people. Yes Lucas making El laugh is fairly fucking infuriating, but so is the knowledge that Lucas is trying so hard to make someone laugh, and that that someone (for reasons he is painfully, intimately familiar with) is NOT him. Pre-graduation, post-two a.m.  silent, sexuality-specific  realization that takes place in an Arby's parking lot, Mike and Lucas are the most accurate visual representation for best friendship that has ever, or will ever live. Their bond is unshakable, the stuff of Census Bearu legend, the canniest, most argumentative, absurdly affectionate, gleefully contrary pairing so robust and unrelenting it caused even the most patient members of their tight-knit Indiana State study circle to routinely throw up their hands and avert their eyes, yelling, "That's enough! Put it away!" One sunny, late-fall afternoon, they're picking up the thread of an ongoing Alien vs. Aliens debate (Lucas: I'm so glad your mom's not here to listen to her son humiliate himself like this. It would break her heart.") which has ascended to the intensity level that warrants standing very close and screaming as though they are not standing very close, when quite suddenly, they are no longer arguing. The discovery of another item in a long list of things they are hopelessly good at when they combine their talents, takes up the entire afternoon and most of the evening. The surprised, but strong, and ultimately righteous sense of joy\awe is conflated by the subdued, giddy knowledge that what has been in the past for Mike a rare and somewhat lackluster experience, and for Lucas, a little less rare but equally mediocre 'event' currently feels like the wide expanse of potentiality specific to scientific exploration. So there's that.

XII. It doesn't last too long, when he allows himself to think about it Mike abjectly refuses to liken the duration of the event to anything stupid, like a metaphor about supernovas. That would be dumb. And crass. And in poor taste. Plus, he hardly ever thinks about it ever, so there's that. Anyway, Mike dropping out of Indiana state and returning to the cocoon of his mother's basement is a completely unrelated event that never ever needs to be recounted, not even for posterity, except to say that it's unrelated to anything going on in his life at the moment. And it's okay, because he and Lucas are still ridiculously close friends and it's never even awkward except for the few occasions wherein Mike succumbs to jealously, before becoming confused about exactly whom he's jealous off. After he figures it out, he's moody and distant and the podcast gets Weird in only the way Mike can make it. El is confused, 'cause once the dude stops staring and actually says a few words to her, he's kind of cool in this completely doofy way. Lucas eventually plops on the end of Mike's bed, allows Mike to put his dirty, uncivilized sneakers all over his fairly expensive pants and makes a fumbling preamble that might as well be called Intro to Awk Con. It goes okay. Mike's just tired and Lucas co-signs with  a sigh, and a story about his sister, and they talk around it because it's still-they-can't-There's grumbling about the complete absence of something that could even be mistaken for a fan base, and Dustin's rants, and a general consensus on the awesomeness of El and they both feel better after that.

XIII. Lucas might have a supremely underdeveloped thing for Will? It's like, super embryonic, not even worth thinking about much less trying to explain out loud to Will's face while he stands there looking cute and curious and hesitant about the stupid notebook he's been doodling in for like a year, even though what little bits Lucas has seen of the novel that Will's mortified about having written  is so good he'd buy it tomorrow if Will would only deign to finish the damn thing. Yeah. So El hangs around Hawkins, after slaving away in his emotional garden wearing a wide-brim hat and too much sunscreen, Mike manages to grow the courage necessary to ask her to dine at his mom's house (yes, his mom has had El over for dinner roughly a thousand times, and yes her laugsana  with the signature sauce has become one of El's favorite dishes, but owing to the fact that Mike has spent ninety-five percent of those roughly thousands of evenings in his room melting down and wishing he was a person who could handle this shit, they don't actually count.), Will finishes his summer drawing course at the learning annex, because his phone storage is unable to contend with the sheer volume of photos he takes of and with El in the last couple of weeks\months (?) Dustin gets Instagram and instantly gains a thousand followers, and Lucas comes to the conclusion that's actually amazing at this podcast thing? Like honestly, he's very talented. And he's never taken one communication course!

XIV. El heads back to New York, promising to visit when she can. Mike admirably hides his heartbreak, and gallantly takes his frustration out on a pacman machine during their afternoon at the arcade. (Mike Wheeler: Frustrated Bisexual) A couple months later, they all receive signed copies of the next Wizards of Gale book with special messages scribbled on the inside covers. A couple of weeks before that, they post their El interview, and the site it takes Dustin two, painful, sleepless weeks to build experiences a significant amount of traffic for the first time in its uneventful little life. Everyone freaks out and facetimes El who's mid interview on the Teresa Watkins show, and that's how they attain their first television interview. (El: I'm sorry, this is so unprofessional. Do you mind?)

XV. Bros being bros, podcasting about nerd stuff. (Dustin: How were you received by the dudebro cheeto dust contingent? I assume they're treating you well? They're super classy individuals.)

XVI. Oh, and Hopper is El's manager\literary agent? Okay? Okay.

#featuring: Newberry Award-Winning New York Literary Darling El #Slowly Realizing He's Found His Vocation Lucas #Mike Wheeler: Frustrated Bisexual #Benevolent Taste-Making Nerd Lord Dustin #and Coming To Grips With The Fact That He Possesses Actual Talent Will #outlines and outliers #ordinary stuff #junior mystery inc. #Stand By Goonies: The Extraterrestrial #in media res #modern woe aus

[winewankers]

If ever there was a dream job, Andrew Roper from Wines to the Stars has got it.  If your idea of #wine nirvana is hanging out backstage with the world’s biggest musical artists while drinking the rarest and most expensive wines ever produced… Fuck it – you’re gonna hate this guy! 🙂

Drew, Wine Wanker: What does your job entail?  

Andrew Roper, Wines to the Stars: Taking care of touring artists and celebrities with their wines, spirits and special beverage requirements whilst on tour in Australia, NZ & through Asia, USA and Europe. My business looks after them with the design of their backstage ‘Green Rooms’ at venues they perform, as well as on their show-free days with private winery visitations and other wine and spirit related meals and events. We also take care of them with making sure they meet the wine people of Australia/NZ backstage to share their respective passions of wine and music/arts. We organise everything, from security, transport, private tastings and ongoing personal supply and wine cellar management to their home cellars. I like to call our services more a ‘Liquor Concierge’ rather than a Sommelier.

Drew: Who are some of the celebrities you’ve worked with

Andrew: Where do I start! Madonna & band, AC/DC, One Direction, The Eagles, The Rolling Stones, Katy Perry, Justin Timberlake, Billy Joel, Paul Stanley (KISS), Matthew Bellamy (Muse), Axl Rose and Frank Ferrer (GnR), The Beach Boys, Vivian Campbell & Rick Allen (Def Leppard), Jack White, Michael Schumacher, Marat Safin, Bryan Ferry, Robert Plant, Carlos Santana, Madness, Ben Harper, Disturbed, Culture Club, Florence and the Machine, Nana Mouskouri, Drake,…shall I keep going?

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Drew: Who has the most educated/enviable palate when it comes to wine – what kind of wines

Andrew: In my 20+ years of looking after artists, Paul Stanley has by far the best palate I’ve encountered and loves the big Aussie Shiraz as well as the finer Cabernets from Mount Mary and Yarra Yering. Birks Wendouree of Clare Cabernet Malbec from 1998 was also something he loved. When I sent some Giaconda Chardonnay in an order to try out, his comment was “simply the best Chardonnay I’ve had”. He also wanted the Parawa Ingalalla which he fell in love with.

The man with a fantastic wine nose also is Courtney Taylor-Taylor of the Dandy Warhol’,s who is super particular about what wines are backstage after show. The more Burgundian French in style the better for him. Although I blew him away with some 1990/94 & 2000  , which he had never tasted anything like before. There are long term wine friends like Michael Schumacher (who sadly had) an amazing understanding of wines and loved the Germanic named Henschke Wines I introduced him to every time he was in Australia. Matthew Bellamy of band MUSE knows his stuff and loved the wines from Samuel’s Gorge, Torbreck, the DeBortoli Noble One. Josh Homme, Troy Van Leeuwen and Dean Fertita of Queens of the Stone Age absolutely love coming down-under to drink with me, they loved this tour the wines from Villa Maria (Reserve Range) I organised for them backstage in Auckland, then we had a great expose of the Pewter and UNO range of Semillons, Shiraz and Shiraz Pinots from Tempus Two (Hunter Valley).

My fave however is a great mate and wine lover named Burton C Bell of industrial metal band Fear Factory, who I always take time between shows to tour the wine regions with and show our best to; he loves the wines from Yarra Yering mostly. The guys from rock band Disturbed are also right on the ball with wines they know and love, in fact David, Dan, John & Mike all really know and love their wines and loved the Australian showcase I provided on their last tour. They voted Rusden Sandscrub Shiraz as the wine of tour. Eric Burdon surprised me with his class and knowledge of wine selections, and also fell in love with some of the wines from Soumah (Yarra Valley) and Elderton Wines (Barossa Valley) we provided backstage on his last tour.

Canadian band The Tea Party are always up for a wine party after show and really love the reds from Devils Lair, as well as the Rusden Grenache on their last Australian tour with the MSO. They fell in love with the wines from Tellurian Estate (Heathcote) and Moore’s Hill Pinot Noir from Tasmania.

Alicia Moore (Pink) loves a wine we import just for her called La Crema Chardonnay from Russian River, CA, but we managed to get her into some Mollydooker wines thanks to their artistic labels. She still orders La Crema though when touring here.

Drew: When in Australia, do international celebrities want to experience the local wines and do they know what to ask for or do they rely on your recommendation

Andrew: When in Australia & NZ, most of the artists rely on my wine judgement and I always conduct a bit of wine & spirit investigations on each artist I have not looked after beforehand. I try my very best to ensure that all on tour get to taste the wines from the regions they are performing close to, for example; when in Perth we will bring them our discoveries from boutique producers from Western Australia, mainly those from Margaret River, Swan Valley, Pemberton or Mount Barker regions.

[For Andrew’s top Australian wine recommendations click here]

Drew: What are the most expensive requests you’ve fielded and who was requesting these wines

Andrew: I get the obvious request for the Iconic’s of Australia as Penfolds Grange, Henschke Hill of Grace and maybe a bit for the Torbreck Laird, but I also have had some amazing almost mystical wines to chase up like the Parawa Estate “Ingalalla” which is, I may add Australia’s top ranked wine by many of the top critics (who have been lucky and tasted it). It cant be brought just anywhere either, you have to know where to strike it! and at A$1300.00 plus for .750mls, it sure is a wine to be reckoned with!

I introduced the singer of metal band Tool to Penfolds as well as Henschke on a tour, and I wish I didn’t to be honest. I lost him as a client due to him going direct and them giving him free Grange & Hill of Grace instead of the other option of buying it through me, and with the now the Chief Winemaker becoming his ‘bestie’ makes life hard to compete with.. ha-ha.

I do however also get the particular wine superstar drinker who only wants their fave wine of the moment and this can be anything from Ch.Petrus, even d’Yquem from early 1900’s, Le Pin, Barolo from Gaja, Giuseppe Quintarelli (RIP), Giacomo Conterno or the great Napa Cabernets Stags Leap, Caymus, Harlan Estate, Hundred Acre, Bryant Family and JJ Cohn’s Scarecrow is something I treasure as special orders to date. I always order more so I can add the odd extra bottle to my cellar! As for Champagnes, well the normal bling bottles such as Cristal, Krug, and the Vintage Doms still shine as the most requested bubbles I am requested for. I love putting up a great Aussie Sparkling like Arras Grand Vintage or Rose as a comparison for them though, which gets a few interesting remarks, especially when they often taste better!

  Drew: How much of the wine is actually drunk – or is it left behind for the crew to drink after the band has left?

Andrew: Most of the wines I bring are drunk, I have learned over the years to always bring a boot full of back up’s and most times I do need to go to the car again. Their guests drink more though, as they feel like it’s a ‘free for all’, so why not. I get really involved with the feel of the aftershow and enjoy explaining the wines as I pour. Making wine fun is really what it is all about, long gone are the days where wine was treated as an old man’s drink. People are genuinely respectful just to learn something from what I pour them.

Drew: Any other unusual requests with wine service – special glasses, a sommelier to pour, wine fridges etc?

Andrew: Over the years of backstage service of wines, I learned early on that Riedels or Plumm and some other popular brands were just not right for the backstage party environment – too many breakages! I landed with Luigi Bormioli crystal and they seriously are the best you can get as far as shape, crystal quality and durability. Don’t think about getting anything else seriously.

I have many famous clients that will still demand “No Screw’d Wine please” (screw’d meaning screw capped). Paul Stanley has a point when he says, if i want a soda pop wine, I will go to my 7/11 mate, so don’t send me any please!

Drew: What’s the Champagne of choice for some of the world’s top celebrities when on tour?  What’s your favourite?

Andrew: Dom Perignon, Cristal and Moet are what I see on most rider lists

My fave Champagne has always been from the House of Krug, particular vintage of 1998 or 1980 which I still have a case or two of each. Their Clos du Mesnil from 1995 is absolutely superb. I’ve also a secret bottle of the Clos du Mesnil from 1982 I am saving for a great day! Also a Jeroboam of 1995 Dom sits proudly in my office in a temperature controlled display case that one day I may open if the right occasion arrives.

I do have a real passion however for our Sparkling Shiraz and always give the after party a special tasting of our most hidden wine. They all love it so much and as the British bands say, “Sparkling Alcoholic Ribena” WOW!!!

It is such a unique wine, that I have several projects on the go with producing Sparkling Shiraz for bands.. crazy but true!

Drew: What’s your fave go to shop/auction house to buy the best wines

Andrew: I buy only through my long term trusted sources, or wineries directly. I have had far too many wines from the popular auction sites turn awful on me and with no way to erase the disappointment of the great occasion turning sour.

It really has affected the way I buy wine, especially super premium wines. I was the winner of a so called great vintage Grange the last time I purchased unseen at an online auction and it was the worst $4,000 I ever spent in my life!

My favourite shop in Melbourne to wander around and lose myself in their selection of great wines and imported Rum is Nick’s Wine at Doncaster. Great guys, great wines and always back their sale with a quality return policy if needed. Maybe I’m old fashioned, but the big wine super market chains to me are more interested in the turning over cases rather than the quality of service and knowledge base.

If we all purchased on the basis of cheaper pricing we are doomed!

If you’re a celebrity and you need Andrew’s services, you can contact him at winestothestars.com

What wines do the world’s biggest celebrities drink? You’re about to get very very jealous! If ever there was a dream job, Andrew Roper from Wines to the Stars has got it.  

#celebrity #feature #wine

[newagesispage]

                                                                          MARCH 2017

 PAGE RIB

*****Beyonce and Amal are both pregnant with twins.

*****The Trump international hotel and tower opened in Vancouver B.C. with Tiffany and the sons amidst hundreds of protesters and a boycott from the mayor.

*****So, did anybody see Seth Mcfarlane in Real time with Bill Maher? He seemed to just sit and pout. He sat there sying nothing and suddenly blurted out “I’ve got water.” It seems that perhaps an earlier guest got his Jack D. and he got water. It just seemed to me that he wasn’t going to add much to the conversation if he did not have his drink. Such a diva!

*****Kevin Smith and comic book men are back and looking good!!

*****TLC is back with the fabulous ‘Who do you think you are?’ The season begins with Courtney Cox and her relatives who killed the King of England.

*****Leann Rimes seems to have added a few pounds and looking healthy and well too!!

*****Have John Stewart and Ricky Gervais lost it?

*****The number 1 item requested in homeless shelters is socks. Bombas (latin word for bees) socks is giving away 60 thousand pairs in one day.

*****American rehab: Detroit on DIY told a great story of a couple bringing an old house which had been part of the family back to life for a new era.

*****Nick Cannon is out at America’s got talent.

*****Louie Anderson is just knocking it out of the park on Baskets.

*****David Cassidy went public with dementia diagnosis.

*****Who knew that Hillary Farr, the’ love it or list it ‘chick was Betty Monroe on The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

*****Roger Waters is heading out on the Us and Them tour and will the poke the snake called Trump.

*****Dale Earnhardt Jr. was on Watch what happens live and seems to like Vanderpump rules. Too bad about the crash at Daytona Jr.  Hooray for Michael Waltrip and his 8th place. We do not want to see U go.

*****Stay away from the Remington 700. It shoots without pulling the trigger. Of course the company does not want to admit that.

*****Tried to watch the new sitcom Powerless. I want DC to succeed in their endeavor but hmmm..??

*****CBS Doubt looked like it had a great cast so gave it a try. The stories were of the same old kind but love the supporting cast and a nice twist. It had a little Spader/Shatner thing going on.

*****The Pats won that super bowl but it didn’t start out that way. Super bowl 51 was so up and so down. Their wide receiver, Malcolm Mitchell was asked by a woman at Barnes and Noble one day to join her book club. He joined, in part, because he couldn’t read very well. He is still with the club and it has inspired him to write a children’s book and begin a literary campaign.  For the halftime entertainment at 51, Lady Gaga gave us a statement of equality that said it all.

*****Days alert: Ok.. Is Days going to be cancelled for Megyn Kelly? Say it ain’t so.. Word is coming that there will be no Days in 2018!! Oh NBC, it is about the only thing you have left that I want to watch. Get the picket signs ready. We can’t lose Days. I am still hurting from losing One Life to Live.  Jen and Eric have seen each other again and he is saving a picture of her. Let’s fix his hair and get these two together. The last days of February and finally some progress on that front. We need that Tom and Alice couple that we can rely on and stick together no matter what. She already has the house and they have the good foundation and they have come back from the brink. **And.. is Drake feeling better yet? Bring back John Black!

*****Twitter donated a mil to the ACLU.

*****I want to be in the middle of those great scenes with Tim Omundson and Deidrich Bader on American Housewife.

*****The house votes to roll back the background checks for gun owners .This includes those mentally incapable of managing their own affairs.

*****Are we all really supposed to pray for Schwarzenegger? Weren’t the ratings of that awful show low anyway?

*****A friend told me that 80% of immigrants are on welfare. Depending on where you look, it is really 40-51%. Do your research people!

*****SNL is back with new shows starting with Octavia Spencer and Scarlett Johansson.

*****The continuing madness of King Trump includes him waiting a week into the Presidency before handing the reigns of biz to his son’s. It wasn’t until he was called out by reporters that he finally did it. His supporters do not even seem to care. The sons have secret service all over the world looking after them with our tax dollars as they go about the Trump business. *** Steve Bannon openly admitted that they put people in place to deconstruct the administration.

*****Some republicans are now asking for an independent prosecutor to investigate the Russian contact and interference. Jeff Sessions should recuse himself.

*****Our state reps are chickening out with tele town halls. They feel they don’t have to face the people who elected them and can therefor go full speed ahead with their own agendas. They use the excuse that too many people are turning up so they have to take questions by phone. Funny how the softball questions from people who mostly agree with them get through. Quit being cowards and do your jobs or get out of the way.

*****Tom Perez is now DNC chair, the moderates win. I don’t agree with scary clown 45 that it was rigged but a little shake up may have been in order. Personally I love Donna Brazile. Is it time for a new party ,the resistance party? Some will never trust the Dems. Some will never trust Republicans. A new hard left party may be in order. It will struggle but eventually take hold. We need to start with brains and artisans.

*****The President will not come to the White House correspondence dinner on April 29. He says he was elected to get work done and to focus on the country, like getting busy on that wall.  Pendejo! Oh please!

*****Pandering to Wall Street, the house is working on ridding us of Dodd Frank that was put in place to help the financial crisis. Do we really want to relax those rules? They are going for a 75% reduction in regulations for companies to add more pollution, to not look out for the customers best interest etc. Shouldn’t we be worrying more about production? Will they do the right thing as they see how the rest of us live or will they continue to ignore the problems?

*****Scary clown 45 claims he did not know what he was signing when he put Bannon on the National Security council. Huh?

*****Elizabeth Warren was stopped from reading pertinent information from Coretta Scott King on the senate floor.

*****Charlie Rose underwent heart surgery and will be back in March. He has been spotted and is doing fine.

*****Looks like a new show Trial and Error is coming. The ads look ok but they are advertising the hell out of it. Wasn’t there a movie with the same name?

*****Carol Merna, executive director for the center for prevention of abuse, wrote an open letter to Illinois governor Rauner. She asked him to put partisan politics aside and get a budget for the state. Some neglect cases have had to be dropped due to lack of funds.

*****CNN is doing the history of comedy.

*****Bill Nye saves the World is coming April 21 to Netflix.

*****Chris Kennedy, 8th child of Bobby and Ethel that was born July 4th 1963, is running for Governor of Illinois.

*****Blondie brings us the ne “FUN”. They are touring with Garbage this summer.

*****Zach Braff and Carol Burnett are both returning to tv.

*****Burger King is buying Popeye’s, lord help us.

*****Iran has cancelled visas for wrestlers that were to compete in a world competition. The Muslim ban has upset so many apple carts. Church missionaries and Doctors have to rethink leaving the country to help others because they may not get back in. We are not all as stupid as they think and should respect us enough to at least quit saying this is about our safety. Why are Christians prioritized? This new administration does not agree with Obama on much so why keep talking about the 7 countries he specified? He did no bans for these countries. Hundreds of companies have coordinated to file a lawsuit against this.

*****If we don’t live globally, things will be a lot more expensive.

*****Isis is on a drone buying frenzy. They are buying drones off the shelf and doing much damage. Our commander in chief needs to get in front of this.

*****New Power Rangers coming out this month.

*****Mar-a Lago, the former home of Emily Post and E.F. Hutton was donated to the government but Nixon did not really want it. After scary clown 45 bought the Palm Beach estate there was much ado about his flag pole. He also wanted the flight patterns changed so as not to disturb his guests. With the racist white house raging on, it is hard to believe that he was once more welcoming. The old guard of Palm Beach was not too crazy at who he was bringing to Mar-a-Lago. The resort would welcome anyone who could pay the fee. Initially it was 100 thou but as soon as he became President it was doubled, being President pays. Oh yea, and the flight pattern has now been changed. ** Scary clown 45 seems to think he is under some sort of cloak of invisibility when he is there. Hillary’s e mails were a problem but he can discuss anything classified on his own cell?? Are you fucking kidding me?**And speaking of Palm Beach, the President is spending a lot of time there. Before the election he claimed he would have no time for golf and relaxing. He has spent about as much of our money on secret service and his travels in a month as Obama spent in a year. This does not even include Melania and the NY digs and the sons who travel the world for the Trump business all the time. Of course, the business is benefitting from this.

*****Kevin Brady and Orrin Hatch can make The IRS show us the Presidents taxes.

*****Nordstrum’s dropped Ivanka’s line. Marshall’s, TJ Maxx, Sears and Kmart are in agreement.

*****If you give up freedom to get security, you get neither. –Ben Franklin

*****Why are the Sunday morning political shows just repeating the same mainstream stuff all the time? Let’s follow Bill Maher and John Oliver who at least talk more about our rights that keep getting stripped away. John Oliver is putting ads on the shows that scary clown 45 watches so he can at least get some real information. Marijuana laws, transgender rights, voting rights are all under attack. The pot industry is booming, why does this administration want to start taking away U.S. jobs? The department of agriculture has removed regs about the treatment of animals. The will no longer make lab inspection results and violations publicly available. Now, you must file a request to the freedom of information act if you want to know.** John Kasich is still making sense, why couldn’t the republicans have went with a sane person? He met with the President on health care. He feels the ACA needs reform but that you can’t just pull the rug out from 20 million people. Kasich tries to do things in a calm and reasonable manner much like the left. Is it worth trying? The administration says that the opposition is acting like 5th graders.  How many times do we reach out and try to do things reasonable only to be shut down?

*****Thank you J Lo for reminding us of Toni Morrison’s words about how important artists are in times like these.

*****Thank you A tribe called Quest for yelling “Resist” and telling us to break through the wall.

*****Seattle severed ties with Wells Fargo in protest of the DAPL. ** A federal judge denied the Sioux tribes request for a halt to the pipeline. And while the CPAC was in full bloom, the protesters were dragged away.  Some moved across the river and some moved on.

*****Good news for Kim Cade: Camping can help you to sleep better by shifting internal clocks to align with daylight hours.

*****Jimmy Carter put in enough solar panels to power half of Plains. Go Jimmy Go!!!!

*****North Korea launched a ballistic missile.

***** It was something to see when Paul Ryan was asked over and over again about Flynn and the Russian situation. He was annoyed right away. Really? How does it feel? And Hillary held up for 11 hours. Who can take it and wo can’t? Pussies!

*****FLEXIT: After many denials, Mike Flynn , the man who started the ‘lock her up’ chant, was finally ousted. When will they find proof that they all knew about this? They are not even good spin kings but how do they live with themselves? And Pence calls himself a good Christian? Did he know?** Did they make a good choice with H R Mcmaster? Of course, he is active duty so he could hardly say no. He is getting a lot of support because he wrote against Johnson and the handling of Vietnam and Bush with Iraq.

*****White house flunkie Steven Miller was getting invited everywhere after he told George Stephanopoulos he would go on any show, anywhere. Colbert and the View were waiting but he never showed. LIES,LIES,LIES: GET OUT!!!!

***** Streisand men ,past and present, seem to be showing up at CBS. James Brolin has been there for a couple of seasons and Elliot Gould is on the new Doubt.

*****Catch Trevor Noah on Afraid of the Dark.

*****Glad that Nightcap is back for season 2.

*****Scary Clown 45 gave his presidential address on the last day of February. He started the day by letting us all know that the protests and problems were Obamas fault. He started to adlib about 8 pages in. A lot of attention was paid to Karen Owens, the widow of navy seal Ryan who was killed in Yemen. The VP insists that the reports of nothing being gained from the raid are false. Trump pulled back on the immigration agenda that he earlier seemed to soften on. He did mention black history month which never happens. He is still talking about repeal and replace with the ACA. He did not shut it down first day like he said on the campaign trail. He said the same stuff in this address that he has been saying, just with a slightly different tone. He sure changed his tune about the Jewish hate crimes. Former Kentucky governor Steve Beshear gave the democratic response. What?? Why the fuck did they pick a FORMER Gov.? It was a pretty middle of the road response. He gave Trump polite hell for his lashing out at military, media and the intelligent agencies. He scolded that just because they disagree does not make them their enemies. Agreed but Yawn!! The best part of the night was afterward on MSNBC. Kathy Griffin, Michael Moore and Rob Reiner put a wonderful cap on the evening. Thank you for some sanity.

*****Better Call Saul is starting to run ads for their April 10th premiere. So fucking excited!!

*****Comedy Central is bringing ‘Colossal Clusterfest” to San Francisco on June 2nd. The fest will include stand up and sketch comedy, podcasts and music. The lineup includes Jerry Seinfeld, Kevin Hart, Sarah Silverman, Hannibal Buress, Bob Odenkirk, Fred Armisen, Tig Nataro, Ice Cube, Tegan and Sara, Reggie Watts and Princess and interactive offerings with South Park, Seinfeld and It’s always Sunny in Philadelphia.

*****Finn Whitrock, Sally Field and Joe Mantello appear in Broadway’s The Glass Menagerie.

*****The Grammy awards which I have never really understood came and went again. Some of the audience looked a bit perplexed when James Corden purposely flubbed the opening. They rarely honor anyone I really respect. But Adele’s George Michael tribute , once on track was amazing. Chance the Rapper won best new artist and claimed his victory in the name of the lord. Lady Gaga sounded great with Metallica. Again there were sound issues that you would think the Grammys of all places would have worked out but… Best dressed were Lady Gaga and Audra Day. The worst was Taraji P. Henson.

*****HBO is making a documentary about Andre the Giant.

*****The Independent spirit awards were on Feb. 25th and made some great choices. Molly Shannon won best supporting female for Other People. Moonlight won best picture, best director for Barry Jenkins and the Robert Altman award. Casey Affleck (best actor) and Jenkins took their best shots at Trump.

*****Bison have been reintroduced to Canada’s first national park after 140 years.

*****The Oscars were the next day, Feb. 26th and oh what a finale they had. Most everybody knows by now that the wrong film was announced, but that was not the entire show. It was only the second time an envelope mishap happened. Sammy Davis Jr. opened the wrong envelope last time. I always wished that they would show the honorary awards as well, they look like fun. Jimmy Kimmel seemed casual about his hosting gig and never stuck the knife in too deep. The Matt Damon stuff never really gets old. Tourists were brought in and Gary from Chicago is already getting offers from just being there. He had just gotten out of prison 3 days before after a 20 year sentence. Wal Mart is giving he and his fiancé wedding gifts. ** During rehearsal a big part of the set fell down.**The Salesman from Iran won and a statement was read about the Muslim ban. A lot of people were wearing ACLU ribbons to show solidarity. The best dressed were Emma Roberts, Haylee Steinfeld, Ava Duvernay, Laura Dern, Janelle Monae, Taraji P. Henson, Mahershala Ali, Naomie Harris, the dancer with Timberlake wearing the red and black dress, Luciana Barroso, Nicole Kidman, Ryan Gosling and Meryl Streep. Honorable mention goes to Halle Barry, Viola Davis, Michelle Williams, Karlie Klass and Emma Stone. Worst dressed were Leslie Mann, Dakota Johnson, Octavia spencer, Trudie Styler and Felicity Jones and some chick in the audience with a bold blue and white striped lace fiasco. There was a story about Karl Lagerfeld saying that Meryl Streep wanting to be paid to wear a dress but nobody believes it. In the fallout after the best picture controversy, Les Moonves said he’d fire his accountant if this happened. Matt Damon said he was not at all surprised and that is what you get when you let Jimmy host.

*****You can now get Dateline’s Keith Morrison on your GPS.

*****Michael Moore has put out a 10 point plan to get rid of Trump. Most of it is common sense but good o remember:

1.       Call your senators and reps: 202-225-3121 or 202-224-3121. A call a day keeps the Trump away

2.       Visit your members of congress and both senators once a month.

3.       Create your own personal rapid response team, form a group to be ready to leap into action.

4.       Join national groups like Planned Parenthood or the ACLU.

5.       Remember the women’s march. Join in.

6.       Join the democratic party.

7.       Form ‘regions of resistance’. Pass state laws.

8.       Run for office. Everyone can run for precinct delegate.

9.       Become the media. Report the truth.

10.   Join the army of comedy. Spread the words of great comedy about scary clown 45.

*****Elvis Costello and the Imposters are touring in June.

*****George W. Bush is making the rounds with his new book, Portraits of courage. He pays tribute to the wounded warriors and at the same time raises money for vets. He also probably feels that it is safe since he is small potatoes compared to the new Prez. We can’t forget the havoc that he and Cheney brought upon us today is today.

*****Lisa Marie Presley is in the middle of a nasty custody battel. Priscilla has her twin grandchildren living with her.

*****The Prez has already cut domestic spending so he can pour millions into the military budget. We spend as much on the military as the next 7 largest military spending countries combined.

*****Spain is going to appoint a sex czar.

*****Another Sandusky, the son Jeff was arrested for sex offenses against minors.

*****Scary Clown 45 made his

*****RIP William H. Busch, Richard Hatch, Al Jarreau, Erwin Corey, George the Animal Steele, Ward Chamberlin, Clyde Stubblefield, Bill Paxton, Judge Wopner and Neil Fingleton.

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