#i remember he had a small food truck close to my job in 2018 and i always went there on fridays

[criminalhhaze]

i am sitting at my favorite sharwa place right, the people are super sweet, the owner just left the kitchen and asked to change the channel because he didn't want to hear about the devil claiming his throne back

they're talking about the queen funeral

i'm obssesed with him

#idk what england did to iran but im guessing not very good things #and i want to point out how much i love how this men grew in a town like this #i remember he had a small food truck close to my job in 2018 and i always went there on fridays #it was just him and his wife #now he has a super fancy restaurant and the best kebab and shawarma in town #its hard for me to eat from him now because the prices got high but the quality of his work woth every cent #and he's super sweet #good for him #not everyone can become something in this town without a 'famous' last name #but my guy came all the way to iran with a dream and a food truck like go off amid

[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

I was in a toxic friendship

I want to preface this by saying I am so much happier right now and I am no longer friends with this person. Haven’t seen or heard from her in over a year. I also want to be clear this was a friendship I had in real life, not tumblr. I think however this story’s lessons can be applicable across the board to online friendships and even relationships with family members. Please, if you ever feel belittled by your “friends,” and you bring it up to them and they brush it aside and think you’re overreacting, it’s not a friendship. 

I was friends with this person, let’s call her Stacy, for about ten years before I realized I no longer wanted to speak to her or be her friend. I met her in the ninth grade and we bonded over Disney World and other things and I could talk to her about anything, including this huge crush I had on a twelfth grade boy. She came over to my house sometimes, though not a lot, and as high school wore on we started going to the mall together, stuff like that. I went to college in a different city and she came to visit me sometimes, and we even worked at the same theme park, though different departments. For all intents and purposes this was my best friend, though Stacey got upset when I also called my cousin my best friend, even though she spoke of her sister as her best friend.

She got a boyfriend when we were both around 21/22 or so, I think we were both juniors in college, though she took a semester off because she hated school and thought it was weird I was a double major. She told me her boyfriend was thirty and she met him at work. I thought the age gap was a little big, but I wasn’t one to judge. Later on I found out he was 36 and she told me she lied because she was worried how I would react. I met him and I thought he was nice, but when she got engaged when we were both around 23, I had only met him that one time for a birthday dinner she had, and my mom and dad told me they thought it was kind of strange. They also said it was weird to them whenever I hung out with Stacey it was only for like an hour, two at most, especially since my cousin and I could spend days and day together at sleepovers, chilling and being ourselves, interpretative dancing, lol. Privately I also found it odd I could talk to Stacey about anything, but when I asked questions about her life and her thoughts she’d barely talk. Her grandma passed away, she loved visiting my grandma because she could have one through me. One day I broke down and admitted my grandmother is a narcissist, and she is different behind closed doors. she berates me, used to call me fat, berated me. Stacey didn’t believe me. I can’t say when she started not being such a good presence in my life, but these were some seeds, and it got worse--slow at once and then all at once as they say.

Anyway, I was a bridesmaid of hers and her sister was the maid of honor--a mutual friend was another bridesmaid and there was one more (super sweet girl and I don’t even think Stacy talks with her much anymore either LMAO) and at this point in my life I was really into my first fanfic IWD. I was consumed with it, to put it bluntly. This is another story entirely but I spent so much of my college career as an English major writing for academia, and when I was finally writing something for me, I bloomed. I talked to her about it and she kind of laughed about this Cullen person but she liked to read fanfic herself so was whatever about me doing it. I shared with her my first piece of commissioned art and she laughed at Lydia thinking Lydia was just me, and I told her, no, she wasn’t, she’s based off of several old hollywood ladies and I actually made her avatar in game, but she wouldn’t believe it. I actually ended up saying “would you think this if I were white and she were white as well” and she laughed and didn’t understand. Needless to say the whole incident rubbed me the wrong way. I ignored it. Her wedding happened, her sister made a good speech, then when all the groomsmen did a speech for the groom the other Bridesmaids and I thought we had to do something, so we got up there and made an impromptu speech. I called her my sister and I told her I loved her. I didn’t know it then, but I didn’t believe her when she said “love you too.”

I wanted to go back to school, and I ended up in a Masters program after the wedding. My summer semester, my first, went well, starting in June and ending in July. I finished IWD and went to another fic, Stacey making fun of Sophie, my OC for that fic too, because I just straight up made her part Hawaiian like I am. When I told her I had little representation growing up other than like Lilo and Stitch and now Moana, (which I don’t like TBH but another story lol.) she asked me what the big deal was about that. Why did it matter that no main character ever looked as I looked? I couldn’t explain to her how much writing a character who was like me in a fanfic mattered. We planned on going to Disney World, me, her, her sister, and the other bridesmaid, but don’t post anything on facebook because she didn’t want to invite the other other bridesmaid. I wanted to go to a nightclub with her for my birthday but she didn’t want to go because her sister couldn’t enter, so after my whole family, plus her and her husband ate at my favorite restaurant, she went home even after I begged her to come with my and my cousin. She said it was stupid. Also, her husband was a huge ass to wait staff. Alarm bells went off for all of us.

But I was looking forward to Disney in December that year. (2018) I didn’t have a job at the time but was actively looking. Well, I got a job after interview after interview at restaurants that wouldn’t hire me, my dream job researching Shakespeare. It fell through. (I was promised to actively help the professor research, it fell through.) She paid for the trip without me knowing and I had to pay her back 800 dollars on writing commissions which I severely underpriced. because I was worried no one would pay otherwise. School wasn’t going well. Put it simply I felt really dumb and stupid and like I didn’t belong, (we were reading Ulysses!!!) which I later learned was a common sentiment with my classmates who began the same time as I. I will admit my relationship with academia is rocky at the moment, but I genuinely do love to write, love to research, love to make discoveries about new texts. Stacey saw how stressed I was and sad and got angry I was so sad, and asked why was I in school anyway Am I going to be on my deathbed and wished I studied harder? I didn’t have the energy to tell her it wasn’t about “studying harder,” it was that I loved writing and reading and wanted to be a part of academia. Learning makes me happy, expanding my mind. She belittled me anyway, thinking getting a Masters was dumb and I wouldn’t get a good job.

At Disney World I was so happy. I hadn’t been there since I was a child. She made fun of me for wanting to meet Ariel, for wanting to ride Soaring and being afraid to check grades when a classmate said they were up. I got so stressed I cried at the Japan pavilion at Epcot and stress ate sauerbraten at the Germany pavilion (Amazing by the way, I love German food.) She basically dictated the entire trip--we went to Universal for Harry Potter World at her request and refused to ride the spider man ride with me (it was fucking fun too-girl missed out.) All she wanted to do was stand around in Harry Potter world all day, (LOL now right?) I wasn’t that big of a Potter fan anymore, even at that point, and she told me I was going to stay there anyway and like it. She dictated the entire trip and when I questioned her about it she said I wasn’t listening to to her--we were following the agenda. Our last day there we went to a “Hawaiian” restaurant and made a comment about my “Hawaiian privileges.” I just didn’t have the heart to tell her that the crap we ate didn’t hold a candle to real Hawaiian luau food.

When we got back I was mentally drained and melancholic because I wondered why Stacey was so cruel to me. She always had a biting wit, but before it seemed playful. Now it was cruel, mocking. She made me feel so incredibly stupid. At this point my cousin got engaged and I cried because I wanted so badly to be in love with someone and get married. I was angry and I lashed out at people I shouldn’t have. I was later diagnosed as depressed. I felt like my life was at a standstill and matters with Stacey didn’t help. I also had a huge writing crisis--I told Stacey something I will always remember and always regret because she doesn’t deserve to know: I write the romances I want because no man wants me.  At this point, Stacy turned me into her project. She didn’t like how sad I was at Disney World, it put a bummer on her trip, and when I told her she seemed off she brushed it off. Her plan was to get me on dating apps and basically settle for anyone, even though I had used apps before and don’t like them, but when I got back on Bumble she basically patronized me and told me she was proud of me and “small steps.” On bumble, I wanted to vomit. (for the record, I am not against dating apps, I know success stories, but at that time I was not emotionally ready to date.) Also, she would teach me to drive so I could go on dates, but only in my Dad’s truck. 

I wish I could say I broke it off, that I told her not to talk to me again, but Stacey stopped talking to me first. However. the day she stopped was when I told her she was wrong and I wouldn’t listen to this anymore. What happened? I mentioned I was demisexual.  She said it wasn’t real. I said it was real to me--I don’t experience sexual attraction unless I have bonded with someone. Sure there are people I like to look at, but it’s not a sexual attraction. She asked about my crush on Tom Hiddleston, Cullen, “that robot guy” and was like yeah you’re sure demi, and lol it’s not real. It wasn’t just her words, it was the mocking indifference. 

I went off. I told her she didn’t have the right to tell me what was in my brain or how I felt. I knew who I was and who I am. I should have also told her I wasn’t her project, but I left her that day and it was the last time I saw her.

I talked to my dad that night and mentioned it to him, being demi, and you know what he told me? I think I’m the same way. I think I almost cried. 

I tried to talk to her again but she didn’t want to see me. She had “personal issues and was busy” I pissed her off. Good, I say now. But after this happened in March of 2019 I thought I had no friends. She was my only friend, and I lost another mutual friend (one we went to Disney with) because she knew Stacey longer than she knew me. But you know what happened in April? My cousin asked me to be her maid of honor and I fucking wept, because there was my best friend--my sister all along. Just because she lives in another city and we are growing up and it took me longer to figure out my career than her doesn’t change the fact that we have a bond that can’t be broken. My cousin is one of my favorite people and if you know her you love her--it is impossible not to. And when I told her about my fanfic and about being demi she wanted to know, wanted to listen. School got better too--I started chatting in class more and come to find out, one of my classmates also broke up with a toxic friend. God I love her and I miss her--wish I could see her. (thanks COVID) 

There was more, but this was a lot, and I spent more time writing this than I thought I would. I wanted to write it because seeing a few posts float around made me remember, and I want ya’ll to know, leaving a friendship is scary. Sometimes it can be worse than leaving a lover. But it is a brave thing to do. Part of me that knew I should have left at the first racist comment (oh yeah, she called me a pineapple one day before the Disney trip, did I mention it’s a slur for Hawaiian people? If my grandma were there she would have clobbed her.) but I stayed because I didn’t think I had any other friends. Well, I did and I do, and I know now friends lift each other up, not belittle or talk behind your back. They listen to me when I talk about how important my writing and my characters are to me. 

Sometimes I still miss her--but mostly the high school her that I knew before she met her husband. I don’t know if he changed her or this was her all along, perhaps both. I got fired from a job in November 2019 (which now I’d like to thank them because I got a better and more fulfilling job with a boss that respects me.) and when I cried outside the place, humiliated, I wanted to call her and vent like I used to. I didn’t. Now I don’t want to call her anymore or talk to her. I’d rather spend time with people who care, people who don’t kick me when I’m down. Since then I am so much stronger, in so many ways. The worst times in my life yielded the greatest lessons I have ever learned. 

If you made it this far, thank you. I did tear up a little writing this, but please know: it can be hard to walk a new path, but it is brave. You are brave. You don’t deserve to be belittled *hugs*

#personal #toxic friend #ok to reblog #tw: depression #tw: racism #yep she was that bad and I was blind for a long time

[atths--twice]

The next few chapters are longer and this just feels like it needs to be posted today. It’s a happy bit of fluff and love and something I wish we had seen. Hell, I wish we had seen ALL of this, but hey.. that’s what fic is for, right? 

Chapter Forty 

Coming Home 

Mulder and Scully have some things to tend to, and things to tell one another, before they begin their journey back home together. 

March 2018

Mulder drove the car with Scully beside him, unable to keep the grin off his face. He had been indescribably happy for the past two days, and he did not see that changing anytime soon.

“You could at least attempt to stop grinning like a fool,” Scully said, looking at him with a smile of her own.

“No can do there, Scully,” he said with a shake of his head. “Not a chance I could rein this in.” She laughed and shook her head, while he grinned wider.

“You know that feeling you got the first time you kissed someone? And you thought about it for days after, as if nothing could top it?” he asked and she nodded, raising her eyebrows. “And then you do it again and it’s even better, and you think nothing could top that. But then you have sex for the first time and … whoa.” He shook his head, spreading his hands for emphasis, and she laughed. “But then, you have sex again, and it’s even better? You know that feeling?” He glanced at her and she nodded, a huge smile on her face. “Well, all of that doesn’t even begin to measure how I feel right now. So, no, I cannot attempt to stop my smile.”

She laughed and shook her head again. “Wow. You’re really working at trying to get laid, aren't you?” she teased, and he waved a dismissive hand at her.

“Psssh, that’s in the bag. I’m not concerned about that, it’s a done deal,” he shrugged and grinned.

“Oh, really? You know that for a fact, huh?” she asked, grinning at him.

“Oh yeah. No worries there. I mean, have you seen this?” He pulled at the dark grey t-shirt he wore and wiggled his eyebrows at her. Her eyes roamed over him, and she raised her eyebrows at him.

“Mm-hmm, I’ve definitely seen it,” she said with a wink.

“Then you know, and I know. So, yeah, it’s in the bag.” He let go of the shirt, winked, and took her hand in his, once more grinning like a fool.

“Well played, Agent Mulder.”

“Why, thank you, Agent Scully.” He nodded, and she laughed, squeezing his hand.

They were on their way to Alan’s house. The work had finished while they were recently in New York and now they had to inspect it and Scully needed to sign all the remaining paperwork. A delivery truck was scheduled to meet them there, bringing the items Scully needed to replace, and then they were packing up any of her remaining items. After the house, they were headed to the hotel to pick up her things, before heading home.

Home. Finally.

Mulder looked over at her again and shook his head, happy and feeling incredibly lucky to have her in his life. To have this second, God no, more like his millionth chance to be with her. This time was going to be better.

When they pulled up to the house, he let go of her hand and turned off the car. They both got out and walked to the front door, finding Gary just inside the house, on the phone. He waved to them and motioned for them to head down the hall. Mulder followed her down to the bedroom where she stood and sighed as she looked around. The room looked great, everything was repaired and ready for the items that would soon be delivered.

“Hey there. Good afternoon,” Gary said as he walked into the room. “Looks better than the last time you saw it, eh?” Scully turned to him and nodded with a smile. “We had to rewire the room and repair the alarm system. The carpets, walls, window. It’s been a big job, but it looks good.”

“You did a great job,” Scully agreed and looked around again. “Hard to tell there was any damage at all.” She sighed and looked back at Gary. “Okay, let’s go see what this damage will cost me.”

“Us,” Mulder said, and Scully turned to look at him. “What it will cost us.” She stared at him and sighed as Gary wisely gave them some space. “This was mostly my fault, so I should be the one paying.”

She shook her head and turned toward the door. “Really seeing just how much that t-shirt will get you, huh?” She raised her eyebrows at him, and he grinned as she walked out of the room. As she did, through the new bedroom window, he saw the delivery truck pull up and he went outside to meet them.

The next few hours were spent unloading and arranging furniture, cleaning out closets, packing and loading up their car, and cleaning the house. The delivery guys and Gary left sometime before Scully was ready to leave. She wanted to be sure everything was in perfect condition.Alan was coming home in two days, and she was nervous over the appearance of the house. 

“Scully, it looks nearly identical to how it was before, stop worrying,” Mulder said as she walked the house once more, tweaking the position of a chair or moving a bowl on the coffee table. “Besides, considering how angry he could have been, Alan was incredibly understanding.”

“I know, Mulder,” she sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Of all the responses he could have given, hearing his gleeful laughter was not one I was expecting.” She shook her head, and Mulder smiled, remembering her look of astonishment when Alan had called back and she explained what happened. He could hear Alan laughing through the phone, and Scully looked at Mulder with wide eyes.

“I’m looking forward to meeting him soon.” Mulder laughed as she began to shut off the lights, seemingly satisfied with everything, finally.

“Yeah, that will be an interesting day,” she said with a grin and then paused, an odd look crossing her face.

“You okay?” he asked, frowning at her, as he stepped closer. She closed her eyes and put her hand to her mouth, shaking her head and taking a deep breath.

“Ohhh … yeah I’m okay. Probably just doing too much, and I haven’t really eaten today. Think I’ll grab some of those rosemary crackers from the box in the car when we leave, then we could grab some food on the way to the hotel?” she asked with a small smile as he searched her face for any other signs of discomfort. “I’m okay. I just need to eat.” He nodded slowly, and they looked around once more before she set the alarm and closed the door.

“One down, one to go,” she said quietly as she reached for his hand. He squeezed it and grinned at her.

They grabbed a bite to eat from a taco place she liked, before heading to the hotel, Scully seeming to feel better after she had eaten. Packing up the hotel room was much faster, the majority of her things repacked into suitcases and travel bags. The items she brought from her mother’s house, were put back in a box and set by the door. Once everything was ready, they loaded up a luggage trolley and Mulder pushed it down the hall.

Scully sighed beside him and he glanced over at her, asking her questions with his eyes. She smiled softly and touched his back. “Two down. Now we go home.” He pulled her to him as they waited for the elevator to do just that; begin their journey home.  

The drive to the house was quiet, but her hand on his knee and head on his shoulder was not. Her fingers circled slowly around and around his knee, not overtly sexual, but it was definitely arousing him.

“Are you happy, Mulder?” she asked softly when they were almost home.

“Am I happy?” he echoed back in surprise. “After all I said this morning? First kiss, first sexual experience, all that?” She exhaled a small laugh and then sighed. “Are … are you happy, Scully?” His worries suddenly sky high.

“Mmm,” she hummed, her hand holding his thigh, her thumb rubbing softly. “Christmas morning, first and last day of school, first time having good sex, and first time really falling in love. Real love that can’t be stopped or denied. Does that answer your question?” He smiled and covered her hand, holding her fingers tight.

“Show off,” he said, bringing her fingers to his lips and kissing them as she chuckled.

They pulled up the driveway a few minutes later, and he stopped the car, turning off the engine. She lifted her head from his shoulder and turned to look at him. Staring at each other, they both took a deep breath. She squeezed his hand, and he kissed her lightly on the lips.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I am very much aware,” she answered and he pulled back to look at her. She moved her hands to hold his face and smiled. “I love you, Mulder. Your stubbornness and relentlessness makes you who you are, and it’s why I fell in love with you-”

“Scully …” he said softly, wanting to apologize and fix the things that happened as a result of those specific traits.

“Mulder, I know. Things will be different, they already are. It is who you are and those traits can, have, and will continue to be used for good. It’s how I like my Mulder,” she whispered with a smile. He stared at her and sighed as her thumbs stroked his lips, and he closed his eyes.

“This is the beginning, Mulder,” she whispered. “When we cross that threshold, it’s a new beginning, and I welcome it. It’s the reparation we need and deserve. Four years to get back here … we’ve figured it out and come out on the other side, better than we were before.” He took a deep shaky breath and nodded, opening his eyes to look into hers. She smiled, and he kissed her softly, her thumbs stroking his face.

He pulled back and smiled at her, kissing her once more before taking the keys from the ignition and getting out of the car. Scully started to walk to the back of the car and begin unloading it, but he stopped her, taking her hand and leading her up the stairs.

“Mulder, the car-”

“It’ll keep,” he said, locking their fingers together and stopping at the door. He looked at her and sighed, reaching for her other hand. She smiled and gripped tightly to him.

“This spot, right here,” he said quietly, looking down and she followed his eyes, before looking up again. “I fell to my knees as I watched you leave. I don’t know how long I stayed here, but … when I stood up, it felt like my heart was gone and prepared to stay here, waiting for yours to return. I swear to God, I could hear it mocking me constantly. Some fucked up version of Poe that I both hated and welcomed. I needed it, needed the reminder any time I left the house, that something was missing and yet remained.” He let go of her hands to wipe her eyes and hold her face in his hands. “Today, Scully, today I welcome it back, as we take this step forward together.” She took a deep breath and nodded, holding his wrists.

Moving his hands and pulling her to him, he held her before they opened the door  and entered their home together. It was almost as though he could feel his heart coming back to him as they stood close together. A spot that was once a source of sadness, now would bring happiness. She pulled him closer, her arms tight around his waist, and he held her tightly.

Everything in the car could wait, the only thing he needed was right there in his arms. The contents of the car could, in fact, disappear for all it mattered to him. So long as she was there, their hearts healing together and finding their way home at last, nothing else was of importance.

______________________________________________________

Thinking of them packing up, going home, and reconnecting the past to the present makes me incredibly happy. I love them finally in the place they need to be.

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #X Files Novel #Post Nothing Lasts Forever #See the symbolism? #The breakup was not forever #Just like youth #These two finally figured it out #FINALLY #Maggie would be so proud

[mwcowan]

Mark & Georgia’s 2018 Philippines Trip

Here we go again, another trip, another blog. For those of you familiar with our recent Road Trip blog this will be of a different sort because it’s going to be a different sort of trip, a mix of business and pleasure. We’ll be based at Georgia’s mom’s house in Manila, making a series of short trips here and there over the next month. Hopefully it will result in some interesting thoughts and photos.

Day 1:  Graeagle to Sunnyvale to San Jose to SFO

Seems like I was driving all day, although it was a pleasant drive until I got close to the Bay Area into all the traffic. I’ve really gotten used to the “traffic” in Graeagle, where it’s unusual to see more than 3 cars in town. At Georgia’s suggestion I drove straight to EBR for a visit with my old colleagues and to check up on how things are going there. Quite well it seems, with a number of development projects underway, what we engineers like. But everyone seems to be really stressed with all the clinical and regulatory related tasks on their plates now. That’s what I knew would be coming with the US clinical trial, and I’m even more certain I picked the right time to retire.

Took an hour in that lovely traffic to drive from EBR to Georgia’s sister Dinah’s house (all of 12-13 miles) and another hour to drive to SJC and back for Georgia to return her rental car (she had flown there last week). An hour to pack Georgia’s stuff and back on the road to SFO. In our Road Trip blog it was noted that Georgia has trouble packing light and this trip is no exception.

The box weights 69.5 pounds (carefully titrated as the airline limit is 70), the black suitcase is about 55 pounds, the red carry-on is acceptably light. Not shown is a backpack. Yes she has problems packing light. OK, to give her a break, since we’ll be in Manila on Thanksgiving, the box contains a frozen turkey, ham, and all the fixings for a proper Thanksgiving dinner, things that you can’t get in the Philippines. Plus a LOT of other goodies for her mom, our snorkel gear, etc..  She got her standby cleared quickly, got her ‘luggage’ checked with a few stares from the baggage handlers, and was soon off to her flight to Hong Kong.

With my flight to Tokyo in the morning, I overnighted at an inexpensive motel near SFO,  one that turned out to be unexpectedly nice. At least I wasn’t itching in the morning.

In case you don’t know, in the interest of national security we don’t fly together. That’s not really it… Georgia flies Cathay Pacific since she gets family privileges from her sister Vinee, a CP flight attendant. Georgia pays a ridiculously low fare for business class. I fly United since I spent so much time with my butt in their seats for business travel I can buy the cheapest economy fare and use my miles to upgrade.

Day 2: SFO to Hong Kong (Georgia) and Tokyo (Mark)

Both of us had very bumpy flights, on mine the seat belt sign was on most of the time, and the flight attendants were told to buckle up multiple times. Didn’t stop me from eating and drinking my way across the Pacific though; I arrived in Tokyo fully stuffed. Georgia reports the same on arrival to HK.

Flying in the front of the plane is the only way to go; I fear the day when my miles run out. Georgia may have to take a job with an airline so I can get family privileges. Anyway, she’s continuing on to Manila this afternoon while I’m overnighting in Tokyo at another airport hotel and flying on to Manila tomorrow morning. The flight with a 19-hour layover is a lot cheaper than one with a short connection, saving much more than the cost of a hotel. That’s a good enough reason but I admit to being a travel wuss, I like having this break to get cleaned up and rested. No reason to hurry!

Day 3: Tokyo to Manila

Easy travel day to Manila for Mark; couldn’t sleep so got up early and went to the airport (a 2 min walk from my hotel) and had breakfast at the nice ANA lounge. Smooth flight to Manila but with the usual holding pattern on arrival. I’ve never flown into that airport without doing at least a few circles. I think the airport planners are the same people who planned the traffic control in Manila.

Speaking of Manila traffic, shortly after I arrived we needed to drive Georgia’s mom to meet with the family attorney to have some documents notarized. Off we went to Alabang, one of Manila’s districts, with Mark driving and only a vague idea of where we were going… after many calls to the attorney we finally decided we’d never find the meeting spot and just parked and told him where we were. He knew the area well and was able to find us. By the time we headed back home it was dark, which makes driving in Manila even more terrifying. People all over the place, motorcycles, trikes, and jeepneys pulling in and out and stopping wherever and whenever. Feels like you’re inside a video game. Luckily we got home before we ran out of lives; Mark quickly headed to the fridge to grab a much-needed San Mig.

Sorry for not having more pictures, but there havn’t been many photo opportunities up to this point. Things will pick up in a day or two.

Day 4: Manila to Tacloban

A couple errands this morning then back to the house to pack our bags for a 3-night trip (nice light luggage this time!) then to the airport for a quick flight to Tacloban on Leyte island. A couple days of business to conduct here and in Catbalogan on the nearby island of Samar. You probably remember Tacloban from the 2013 super-typhoon Haiyan (Yolanda in the Philippines). Tacloban was the center of devastation from this storm. The city was all but destroyed; nearly 6000 perished in this city alone. Flying in we could see one of the reasons the storm wreaked such havoc – the city and territory surrounding it are very level and low-lying, stretching flat many miles until the mountains are reached. Besides the winds which removed nearly every roof in the city, storm surges of up to 20 feet did the most damage, including completely leveling the airport we flew into. We didn’t know what to expect, but were pleased to see a strongly recovering city and meet a few people whose strength, determination, and pride are readily apparent. There are still a few reminders of the storm, we saw 4 or 5 abandoned, gutted, roofless buildings, but almost all traces are gone and the city has been rebuilt, at least on the roads we passed.

In a striking contrast to Manila, traffic here is very civilized. Our taxi driver actually stopped and let another car enter a roundabout before him! To regress a bit and explain Manila traffic, in the US we drive (most of us at least) by the lines on the road and by rules where for every situation the right of way is defined. Right of way in Manila is determined by which car can squeeze a millimeter in front of the other. Georgia has remarked that it’s a great waste by the government painting lines on the roads as no attention whatsoever is paid to the lines, the number of lanes being defined by the number of cars, trucks, and motorcycles that can possibly squeeze side to side within, and often beyond, the edges of the roadway. It can seem like total chaos, but carnage and catastrophic accidents are minimal as traffic speeds using these principles are generally reduced to a crawl.  Vendors in flipflops can walk in between and around cars without fear of being run over as they can move faster than the cars can.  It surprisingly works as long as you’re in no hurry to get somewhere.

A side note... if you like a glass of wine or two, finding it can be challenging as the Philippines is not at all a wine-drinking nation. Interestingly enough, grape cultivation and winemaking were brought to California by the Spanish Catholic priests and followed the path of the missions. Yet with 300 years of Philippine colonization by the Spanish, grape growing appears to have been unsuccessful here and wine can be difficult to find.

Normally we don’t worry about it and settle for a cold San Miguel. This evening Georgia was craving a glass before dinner so we asked at the hotel desk where we could find a bar or restaurant that could help us get a fix, and we were pointed to a place across the street.  Georgia was excited when the menu had a small wine list, including two Cabernets and a Merlot. She asked for one of the Cabernets; the waitress said she had to go check if they had it. She came back shortly and apologized, saying they were out of that wine. Georgia asked for the other Cabernet. Sorry we’re out of that one too. OK, what about the Merlot? Sorry ma’am, we’re out of the Merlot too. Do you have any wines? No ma’am, we’re out of all wines. Amusing to us at least as this is a recurring story – we’ve even seen nice restaurants in large hotels in Manila, with impressive wine lists, unable to produce anything but a Barefoot Bynum red. Maybe Georgia goes to work for an airline, and Mark starts a wine import business. We finally got a lead for a nice Italian restaurant, which had a good selection of Italian wines. An excellent dinner and Georgia finally got her wine! Another thing you wouldn’t expect here is great Italian food – we both feel that we’ve found some of the best outside of Italy, in restaurants started by Italian ex-pats who have been captured by Filipina wives (or vice-versa)! I can understand that. 😊

Day 5:  Tacloban to Catbalogan

This morning’s business was a meeting with the local head of the Philippines Land Bank. This is a government-chartered organization obtaining land and re-selling to farmers. The income from the farmer’s loans funds the acquisition of property. The subject transactions here are about 165 hectares (400+ acres) of family-owned property in Catbalogan, much of which has been settled on by squatters/farmers. This is the type of land the Land Bank is trying to get, to officially distribute to the squatters and make them legal taxpayers. The family has been trying for many years to deed the property over and receive payment. Many frustrating years, always being told that this document or the other is needed; when that’s produced there’s always another. And then the next time they go back, the official they were working with isn’t there any more and no one has any recollection of previous actions.

The meeting went well, it seems that the government is making an effort to centralize and simplify these things, for example going forward this can be handled through the office in Manila rather than having to travel to Tacloban. According to the official very little is left to do before this can be completed. Georgia warns that we shouldn’t count on this assurance yet.

Now we’re tourists for the afternoon – our driver picks us up from the Land Bank and we head towards Catbalogan. We’d hired a driver and car for the day to take us around on our errands and then deliver us to Catbalogan, about 110 km from Tacloban. On the way he drove us through one of the areas hardest hit by the typhoon, a low-lying seaside area of shanty homes. You may remember seeing post-typhoon pictures of a large freighter sitting on land quite a way from the water – rather than removing the whole thing they left it in place, some 300 meters from the water, built some structure around it and turned it into a memorial for the Typhoon victims. Strange to see a freighter in the neighborhood but a fitting tribute.

The disturbing part of it though is the neighborhood. The whole area was completely swept bare, but it’s been rebuilt as it was, with poorly constructed shacks of wood and tin. That’s how the people lived before, and what they know, but it’s a shame that the government didn’t help relocate them or at least build more substantial homes.

We drive over the San Juanico bridge which links Leyte and Samar islands, the longest bridge in the Philippines, built during the Marcos regime. Current president Duterte plans to build a longer one (mine’s longer than yours!) linking Luzon to Visayas but it hasn’t been built yet. Following the bridge is a winding 2-hour drive up the mountains and back down into Catbalogan.

Catbalogan is a city “in the provinces”. I’d heard that term before but wasn’t sure what Filipinos were referring to – the meaning is similar but more polite sounding than our euphemism “out in the boonies”. It’s a busy city, but very remote and without many of the amenities you find in the larger cities. We’re booked at the most expensive hotel in town: a “deluxe triple room” with private bath is $34/night. The room is cozy with a double and a single bed and not much space to move around, but the hotel is spotlessly clean, due we think to the army of OJT (on-job-training) helpers from a local high school. At least 20 of these always-smiling faces are constantly cleaning and re-cleaning, each one stopping to give us a warm greeting whenever we appear, coming or going.

To me, Catbalogan is the “city of trikes”. Manila has a lot of trikes, but this city is totally clogged with them, and they’re all in (slow) motion all the time. Both motor- and human-powered, passenger trikes and delivery, they’re everywhere. Colorful, each has been customized by its owner, with the owner’s name and often a favorite bible verse or a personal testament to the glory of God emblazoned on front or back. Some busses and delivery trucks are also on the streets, but few private cars. Why would you need one? A noisy and bumpy ride on a motor trike costs 8 pesos (about 15 cents) to take you anywhere in the city. The pedal trikes are the economy ride, only 7 pesos. We go first class!

You can play a quick video of a trike ride in Catbalogan here:

https://photos.app.goo.gl/3SMSh43GFNhmnvf79

Day 6:  Catbalogan

Business day #2 with visits to the Registry of Deeds (task is to get the deed to the property annotated with the names of the new settlers), then to the Department of Agrarian Reform (task unknown). Conference with Georgia’s sister in the US and back to the DAR to ask for a map of the new property division. Both the ROD and DAR have promised to have the documents ready tomorrow morning so back we’ll go.

While here in Catbalogan we’ve been “taken care of” by a family that is linked to Georgia’s by a long friendship. Third-generation daughter Bayan has been helpful getting us to the various appointments; today we met Lola (grandmother) Noling, the family matriarch, at her electronics and appliance store she’s been running for 65 years. She’s 87 and going strong, no hurry to retire. We were chatting in the store and asked if they knew a place that had good Tomalos – a Filipino take on the tamale with rice “masa” around a pork filling, coated with peanut butter, then wrapped in banana leaf and steamed. With typical Filipino hospitality, it seemed only minutes before table and chairs were pulled out and Tamalos and Lumpia appeared for us to try. Different, delicious, and RICH! Georgia and I couldn’t quite finish a whole one. And also in true Filipino fashion just as we were putting our forks down we were asked what we’d like for lunch. Oh jeez, didn’t we just finish lunch? Lola Noling definitely wanted to take us out so we agreed to dinner, we’ll meet her at the store around closing time.

Dinner was at a nice restaurant right on the harbor, with Lola Noling, daughter Collette (Bayan’s mom), two of her sons Bong and Jun, Bayan, and a few more family members. A feast of delicious food, more than enough beer, hilarious conversation with her sons trying to speak English and me trying to understand Taglish – it was one of those amazing times that leaves you with a smile, a warm heart, and a new family.

Day 7:  Catbalogan to Tacloban to Manila

Georgia thinks I’m writing too much. Maybe I’m trying to find things to write about in the absence of any real interesting travel. I’ll keep it short today.

Two more appointments this morning. First back at the DAR to pick up maps of the property. This visit was successful. Then an appointment at the Registry of Deeds to meet with the registrar whom Georgia had an appointment with yesterday but she wasn’t in the office. She was most helpful (not) explaining the number of documents that still needed to be completed and 2 new cities we would have to visit to get this done. One step forward, 2 back.

We took a shared ride van back to Tacloban, through rain most of the way. The highlight of the day was a 30 minute trike ride from the van terminal to the airport, in the rain. Remember, these things don’t have doors – Mark held an umbrella out as a door/windshield and managed to stay pretty dry. His luggage tied to the back of the trike didn’t fare quite as well.

Day 8:  Manila to Nasugbu

Finally! Today we made the 2 ½ hour drive from Manila to Nasugbu, the location of Kawayan Cove and our house-to-be. This is the third time we’ve made this drive ourselves (no driver) and it’s starting to seem familiar, at least when we get out of Manila and onto the Cavite Expressway heading south. Today I got very much the same feeling as when I drive from the Bay Area to Graeagle, with lots of traffic and the associated stress until we reach Auburn, about halfway there. After that it’s an enjoyable drive through the mountains and pine forests the rest of the way. This was very similar – through Manila, Cavite, all the way to Naic it’s a lot of traffic and those ever-annoying trikes. Past Naic you enter the mountains, tropical jungle rather than pine trees, and all the traffic, trikes, and stress disappear. Finally we get our first view of the Batangas coast, and get that peaceful feeling that we’re getting close to home.

We’re staying for three nights at Punta Fuego, a members-only golf and residential club just up the coast from Kawayan Cove. Luckily one of Georgia’s brother-in-law’s parents are members here and can make reservations for us at one of the club’s guest “casitas”.

Lovely place with a lot of different beaches and nice amenities – we looked at properties here but as this is one of the older developments along this coast all of the better lots are already taken, and we had our hearts set on an ocean view. Not to mention the prices, and the monthly dues, and all that…

Tomorrow we get to see our house for the first time!

[dangerousdanii-blog1]

trying new things || dam

WHO: dani harper & sam evans @sevanshq

WHEN: 6/20/2018

WHERE: dani’s penthouse

WHAT: dani and sam shoot a POV scene, gets hot and heavy, slight tension at the end bc angst is always fun.

WARNINGS: nsfw of course

WEDNESDAY 6/20

The idea of doing something more laid back and low key with Sam had her feeling pretty excited, even if she loved the cheesy and rough scenes that they had usually shot, she really did enjoy these type of filming styles. It gave her an excuse to take her time a bit, to admire every inch of his unbelievably and unfair body, and she took any opportunity to do so. Setting up her place, she had a pretty simple set on her tanned frame, two piece maroon satin laying nicely on her curves as she hummed after lighting a candle or two in her large room. For a minute she glanced out of the windows, admiring the view with an almost dreamy sigh as she adjusted the loose high ponytail on top of her head. Checking the time, she heard a knock and put her slippers on and a simple black robe, and made her way to the door, swinging it open, “Good afternoon.” She said with a grin, moving out of the way to let him inside, closing the door behind them as she made her way to the fridge to grab a water, “Want anything to drink?”

Laidback suited Sam, so when Dani suggested a switch up, he was happy to oblige. Creative-wise, it was an interesting concept and he was never opposed to trying something new if it had the right aesthetic. His clothes were casual, dark fitted denim and a simple navy henley, figuring neither would be staying on long anyway. Freshly showered with his hair still a little warm from the blow dryer's attentions, he headed out and towards Dani's penthouse. His grin matched Dani's once she opened the door, his eye as usual drifting to the pretty lingerie she'd picked out, the color vibrant against soft curves and soft tanned skin. "Hey. You look beautiful as always." He followed her inside, and shook his head when Dani offered refreshments. "I'm good."

The compliments from him always made the back of her ears burn with a blush, and she tucked her hair behind them as she shot him a small smile, "Thanks handsome, you look particularly yummy yourself." She said with a smirk as she pulled a water bottle out of the fridge and twisted the top off, shutting the door behind her as she took a swig and skipped down to him, shooting up a grin to the tall blonde as she reached him, "Soooooo, you excited to visit home this weekend?"

"I'm excited to get my truck," Sam replied, easily and with a shrug once she'd returned. "Outside of that, it'll be good to see my friends, and getting to drive back. About as much as you can expect from a short trip home." Long fingers reached out, fiddling with the sash of her silk robe as he asked, "What about you? You've got that wedding, right? Ready to eat terrible food and take advantage of the open bar? Maybe hit on a groomsman, make some lucky bridesmaid blush? Lots of opportunities there, sugar."

"I can't wait to see you in it, it'll totally complete that country boy aesthetic you got going for you." She said happily, nodding as she looked up at the male, "Well, I hope it goes good for you, going back home is always a nice way to remember where you came from." Dani noted as she pursed her lips together as she hummed, leaning forward a bit as she ran her hands up his chest mostly from habit, "Yep, me and Jas go on.....Saturday, should be fun. I've known her for a good handful of years, we met at Hooters. Weddings always make me a big sap, but I can't say no to an open bar. As for my conquests for that night, I'm sure there will be plenty of good options."

Sam shook his head, letting the sash slip from his fingers in favor of wrapping his arms around her waist. "I'd like to think it's more than an aesthetic, but you're right, it does suit me." He was good with shifting focus from his plans to Dani's weekend and her friend's wedding. "Can't say I'm surprised to hear you're a sap. But 'plenty of good options'? That's downplayin' it. Gonna be lookin' so good, it's damn near unfair to the bride. I'm sure you ladies'll have fun though." Sam gave her hip a small squeeze as he stepped back. "So how are we doing this tonight?"

There's a small smile as his arms easily snaked around her waist, and her let her hands rest on his shoulders before running down his bicep with a slow motion, "I know, you're a southern boy through and through, I just can't wait until you bring that truck for a finishing touch of authenticity." Dani explained, tilting her head to the side as she let her eyes scan his face as he spoke, his compliments never failing to make her smile soften and her cheeks warm as she shook her head, "Oh hush, I'm just happy for her. And I will be looking amazing, any excuse to dress up and I gotta go all out. But, it's her day....I'll try not to be too much.." She said playfully, letting him move back before grinning at his question, "Okay, so, since you've never really done a POV.....have you watched any? It's pretty easy, we can leave a camera in the corner for a simple shot and then.....you can pull another out for any angles you think might be hot as hell up close and personal.

"Throw in a cowboy hat too, apparently" Sam added with a grin. "It'll be a real good look." He caught the flush of her cheeks and the playful way she hushed him made him laugh, though he meant every damn word. "I'm sure you will." Sam nodded along as Dani gave him the rundown; he was usually up for trying something new, and this particular concept intrigued him. "Gonna be honest, I never got into watching POVs. Mostly cause I didn't get the appeal or they were usually shitty cam work. But it's you and me workin' together so automatic hotness and also quality camera and editing, so I'm down."

"Ugh, stop, it's all too good now. Do you own a pair of overalls too?" She was only teasing as she shot him a grin, and that familiar sound of his laugh filled her ears. "If I don't, well, at least I still have Jasmine to hold me at the end of the night." Dani said with a simple shrug before walking towards the kitchen, taking another sip of her water before turning around to face him, leaning back against the kitchen counter. "Some of it's, bleh. But when you get it right, god, it can seriously be hot as hell. I'm gonna keep it real though, I've never actually done one before so....looks like we'll be popping each others cherries here. But I don't doubt we can handle it, or I guess mostly you since you'll be doing most of the camera work." She said with a smirk, motioning towards her room, "You can either follow or carry me, up to you."

Sam narrowed his eyes at the teasing, though the glare was offset by a poorly conceived smile. "No, I don't own overalls 'cause I'm not from Kentucky." He was sure that Dani and Jasmine together would cause some kind of trouble or at the very least a distraction, and he laughed at the thought. "I know you'll enjoy that." At least he wasn't the only one in new territory here, chuckling a little at Dani's choice of words. "I'm experiencing so many 'first times' with this job," he joked. "But sure, we got this." He did, however, shake his head at the options she laid out. "You just want me to carry you, I see right through this plan." Nevertheless, he managed to scoop her up, tossing her over his shoulder with grace and ease and headed towards her room. "You got the extra handheld ready," he asked, setting her down carefully.

"I'm only joking, besides, you're like a giant and I don't know if they even make overalls in your size you big boy." She said with a smirk, nodding in response as he said she'd enjoy her time, because she would. It'd been a little while but being reunited with her old friends, alongside Jasmine and an open bar with a gorgeous wedding party full of options? Sign her up, even if a part deep down wished she could bring along Sam and show him off....a girls night was probably for the best. "Well, I'm honored to help share this first with you." There's a playful tone as she placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head to the side with a fake look of shock, "I can't believe you would assume that." She said but her voice was unconvincing as she giggled when he scooped her up, letting him carry her into her room and then sitting on the edge of the bed. "Yeah.....and I already have the one set up right there." Dani explained before rolling over onto her knees and crawling up the bed, smirking as she glanced over her shoulder, "Extra handheld is right here on the bedside table for you."

"I am just big boned," he countered with a scoff. Even if he hadn't bought any bit of her innocent act of hustling him into carrying her, he was still happy to oblige. Once they got to her room, he did a once over on the setup, noting the camera in the corner and the handheld on the side table, as Dani pointed out. "Cool." Sam shed his shirt, tugging it off along with his jeans, leaving on the fitted navy boxer briefs. He folded his clothes and set them aside, putting the condoms he'd brought on the side table and picking up the camera instead. "So, do I ask you questions while filming," he mused, raking a hand through his hair while the other powered on the camera and fiddled with the settings. "Or is like, super cheesy 'come on show me your underwear' dialogue?"

"Big boned.....right, right." She said sarcastically with a nod of her head, but that smirk showed she was teasing per usual, and she settled into the middle of her bed and sat on her knees as she watched him undress. It was always a nice view, so she admired it shamelessly as she hummed. Even if it was a little professional, she didn't mind if she got to see him now stripped down in his boxer briefs. "I mean, it's whatever you wanna do. We don't have to have the hand held out the whole time even, since we got the one in the corner too." Dani explained, leaning back on her hands as she pushed her hair off her shoulders, tanned legs stretching out on the large bed she was seated on. "Mostly if you see something hot, pull the hand held to get a closer few, you can say whatever you want....I know you have a dirty mind when you get worked up enough." She said with a smirk, voice smooth as she tilted her head to the side with a knowing look.

His attention shifted from messing with the camera to Dani and her suggestive tone, and Sam gave a small laugh. "Yeah, I guess that part comes pretty easy to me." The handheld was set up for whenever he decided to work with it, placing it back on the side table for now, while he moved towards the bed, pressing a palm to the mattress as he leaned in to drop a kiss to her shoulder while he asked "How do you wanna start?"

Nodding as he agreed, she knew he would, dirty talk was always best when it tumbled from his plush set of lips and he did it so well every time so she didn't don't he could handle it. "I guess I have to give you control this time, at least I'll try to." Dani said with a slight pout before it melted away into a soft smirk, fingers grazing up the side of his arm that was pressed to the bed, "I know you like a good build up so we can just hit record and we can just slowly start going at it, since it's supposed to be one of those authentic looking videos." She murmured, head tilting to the side as his lips grazed her skin, making her hum under her breath as she ran her hand back down his chest. "Sound good?"

Sam gave her a look that was not at all sympathetic, full lips already tugging into a crooked grin. "I know it's a struggle for you, to not be so damn bossy. But thanks for at least trying." A nice slow build up worked for him, finding it easy to get lost in the moment and he pushed up and picked up the remote for the camera, hit record and put it aside. Sam shifted on the bed, settling beside Dani. Propped up on an elbow, his free hand reached for her, curling at her hip and bringing her close, hooking one thigh around his waist just as he dipped his head and captured her lips in a kiss, heady and unhurried. It wasn't a chore to do whatever came naturally, and Sam always enjoyed a chance to film a good makeout. His fingers skimmed the smooth skin of her thigh to rest at the curve of her back, keeping her close while they continued to kiss.

There's a fake gasp that left her when he called her bossy, "Oh shut up, you love when I'm bossy." She said with a smirk, watching him move to hit record, making her shoulders roll back a bit, getting in the head space for the video. Although it wasn't really hard when it came to Sam, and the premise of this little couple home made video would be a peace of cake considering how well they knew each other's bodies by now. Easily letting him pull her closer with his free hand, leg hooked over his waist as she allowed his lips to catch hers with a second to waste. Her hand rested on his chest, sliding up the smooth surface to end up at the side of his neck, pulling him closer as her lips moved slowly against his, tongue swiping along his plump lower lip, her skin already growing hotter by the minute.

Sam did enjoy it, but he was content to keep that to himself as they both prepped for the scene. Though, considering the laidback vibe, there wasn't much to prep for. Far as filming experiences went, it was pretty lowkey. And there was never much work involved when it came to kissing Dani. A small groan slipped out at the feel of her tongue, teeth catching on her bottom lip in a gentle nibble while his hand trailed up her spine to settle at the back of her neck, thumb stroking the spot below her ear as he deepened the kiss with a low hum.

The girl couldn't help the way her skin crawled in the need to touch on him more, probably because she knew what was coming, and her body was itching for that already. But she kept calm, opted to smirk a little against his lips when he nipped at her bottom teeth through a muffled groan. Slowly, she slid on top of him, knees on either side of his waist as the raven haired girl sighed through her nose deeply at his thumb massaging the spot below her ear, a small hum muffled against his mouth as she let her tongue venture smoothly against his in their kiss. It was slow, but man she felt her heart thumping in her ears from it, and she let her hands rest on his chest with her nails raking along the surface of his skin.

Sam could practically taste her eagerness, and he couldn't help but grin, smiling at Dani's soft sigh and the sounds that followed once she shifted positions to straddle him. That, he really enjoyed, the warmth of her center pressed against his crotch. The hand at her back dipped a little lower, just as the grip on her neck tightened a hair. Her skin was smooth and feeling like silk under wandering fingers that slipped lower to grip a generous handful of her ass, kneading the soft flesh and palming her with gentle smacks. "Put your hands in my hair," he murmured, after another firm swat, thoroughly enjoying the scrape of her nails to his chest but knew it'd feel even better against his scalp.

Dani allowed herself to melt into the kiss for a moment, embracing the warmth that radiated through her body as her stomach was in the smallest of knots, luckily when it came to filming it helped ease the nerves in a way. But behind the act, Dani enjoyed this way more than she knew she should, and probably would ever admit to him. Comfortable straddling his waist, she shifted her weight back for only a moment to give him that pressure against his lap, a small moan of approval when his grip along the side of her neck tightened. His hands really did drive her up the wall, especially when they wandered like they did now. Back arching slightly as he grabbed at the curve of her ass and landed a few nice slaps to it, she nodded as she ran her fingers up and under into his hair. Smirking slightly, she sat up a bit and pulled him along with her to sit upright, "Like this?" She said softly, loud enough for the camera, but still in this teasing innocence as she wrapped her legs around him to keep her silky cover body flush against his.

Sam followed that tug to his hair, letting Dani pull him along into a sitting position with a small smile, thoroughly enjoying the show of her, working and to get her way. His hands continued to grip her up, though the one at her neck traveled a little lower, grazing the swell of her breast pushed up by her bra and he chuckled. "Just like that."

That damn smile, she felt it against her lips, and she couldn't help but do the same. Thank God this was a couple based scene, or else it'd be painfully obvious how much she enjoyed this. Humming as his hands continued to explore her body, she rocked her hips ever so slightly against him, fingers still running through his hair, "Yeah?" She said back through a small laugh, almost breathless as she tilted her head to the side and rolled against him again in a slow grind.

"Mhm." Breaking the kiss, he let his lips wander, skimming her jawline and dipping lower to the curve of her neck, leaving a trail of gentle presses in the smooth skin until he reached her collarbone. Sam was content to focus his attention there, nudging the line of her throat with his nose and back up to nibble the underside of her jaw, all the while savoring the feel of Dani grinding in his lap.  He pushed at her bra strap, letting it slip down her shoulder while he busied himself with tugging at the satiny cup of the pretty maroon bra. Gently, he palmed her breast, his thumb swiping at her pierced nipple in time with the rock of her hips against his, letting out a low moan in the space below her ear when he felt himself twitch against her warmth. He rewarded her with a sharp tug to her piercing and a blunt nip to her earlobe, his hips giving a slow roll to meet hers as he continued to kiss and tease and nibble at her neck.

Head falling back, she let his lips explore along the expanse of her neck, each press like fire along her skin. Her fingers remained combing through his silky blonde locks, eyes fluttering closed as his fingers tugged down the strap of her bra, falling along her arm and welcoming the cool air against her piercings. A soft moan left her parted lips, breathy toned and a small smile tugged on the corner of her lips, earning a slight pull to his hair as his thumb teased the sensitive bud on her chest. But that moan, low and muffled near her ear, with that feeling of him getting harder under the movements of her body, that earned an even harsher grind against him. A small gasp escaped her at the tug though, mixed with a nip to her ear, and she ran her hands down his chest to push him back flat onto his back. Smirking, she pushed her hair back off her shoulders, leaning forward to ghost her lips against his in a teasing manner. Sure, she promised control to him, but that didn't mean she couldn't steal it for a moment. Pressing warm kisses along his jaw, down his neck, and all along his broad chest while pushing the curve of her ass harder against his ever hardening cock.

Sam savored the feel of Dani, soft and pliant against him as her hips continued their hard grind where he wanted her most. The shift in position caught him off guard, though he fell bad to the bed easily, with a low grunt, the sound giving way to a hum of appreciation when Dani's lips zeroed in on his neck. But it was nothing compared to the teasing with her ass, rocking into him and he met the movement with short thrusts, the friction from it all pulling more of those low sounds from his throat though he managed to grip her hips and flipped their position easily, pinning her under his muscled frame and he pressed a brief kiss to her lips before pushing up  and reaching over for the handheld camera. He straddled her thighs, knees pressed into the mattress and he turned on the camera, angling the lens right at the top of her panties, though his gaze met Dani's dark eyes and he offered her a slow, crooked smile before saying,  "Be a good girl and touch yourself for me."

There's a smirk when she saw she caught him off guard, because that was one of her favorites, throwing him off the game he always seemed to have around her that left her at his mercy most days. Now, on top of him, she had a few seconds of control, savoring the way his skin felt under each press of her lips. Hands now resting on either side of his neck as she slid her lips along his broad chest with a slow grind of her hips. The feeling of those small thrusts made her hum, but her breath was taken away when he flipped them and was hovering over her. Smirking up as she ran her hands up her body, she nibbled on her bottom lip as he grabbed the camera, already giddy with excitement to see what he had in his brain. Eyes flickering up to find him, she tilted her head to the side as she put her fingers in her mouth, sucking on two digits before sliding her hand down the path of her body before dipping past the waistband of her panties. "Yes sir...." She hummed, eyes unmoving from his as she slid her fingers through her wetness, a soft gasp leaving her lips for good measure.

"You're so damn beautiful." The compliment slipped out easily, random but genuine, and Sam followed the path of her wandering hand, keeping the camera steady while Dani followed the firm demand with nothing more than that raspy 'sir',  fingers pushing into her panties and though Sam couldn't see, the look on her face and the faint gasp told him just how good it felt. He watched her fingers moving beneath the dark satin of her panties, knowing she was already wet, but it was just a tease. He wanted more. "You like the way it feels?" he asked, keeping the camera trained on Dani's fingers. "'Cause damn, it looks good. I like watchin' you touch yourself. You get so worked up...I can slip right inside afterwards, no problem. Bet it's nice and wet already for me, too. C'mon, angel. Show me how you do when I'm not around."

The compliment almost made her blush, if it wasn't for her trying to stay in that Dani Danger state of mind, because it sounded sincere and it only made her want to put on even more of a show to earn more praise. Fingers swiping up and down under her panties, she hummed as her tongue swiped along her bottom lip when he asked if it felt good, "Mmmmhm, so good." She murmured breathlessly, nibbling at her bottom lip as she let out another smooth hum and listened to him talk, "Yeah? I'm getting all nice and wet for you right now, gonna feel so good wrapped all around you." Dani said in her usual raspy toned voice, head tilting back as she licked her lips again, dipping her middle finger into her heat with a small moan, slowly pumping the digit in and out of herself. The way he was talking, the scene in general, already had her starting to gain that wetness to allow the slick motions. Her other hand ran up her body, cupping her breast as she let out a soft whine at her efforts, eyes finally fluttering closed, "This look good for you baby? Watching me get all worked up like this, touching myself for you....?"

Having to hold onto the camera and keep it steady proved to be a lesson in patience for Sam. The lens had to be positioned just right but his attention wanted to wander, greedy for every aspect of the show Dani put on, the teasing glide of her fingers at her center  and the husky moans that made him shift slightly above her, a slow exhale slipping through parted lips in an attempt to draw his attention from the deep twitch in his boxer briefs back to Dani. The camera panned out to capture the tease of skillful fingers at her breast and the sweet little noise that followed and Sam lifted his gaze to watch her intently, a heated look in olive eyes. "Mhm. I know you like puttin' on a show for me. Ridin' your fingers and moanin' just the way I like. Wanna hear you make some more noises, darlin'."

Teasing was one of her specialties, something she loved and excelled at, and the fact that she was able to do it to Sam? Well, she was going to milk it for all that it was worth, besides....she had to play it up for the camera, right? Sighing under her breath, she arched her back ever so slightly to shift her knee, rubbing her leg up between his legs as she licked her lips yet again. Her middle finger was slowly pumping in and out between her thighs, coating the digits in the wetness that was pooling there, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she fluttered her eyes open. Automatically locking onto those dark olive hues that were staring down at her, almost hungry in his gaze, and she rolled her hips against her hand once more, "Yeah? Wanna get me all worked up for you?" Dani breathed out, finger slowly joined by a second digit, letting her thumb swipe along her clit, a low but shaky moan falling from her lips as she tilted her head back, squeezing at her breasts again as small whines tumbled up her throat. If he wanted a show, she'd give him that.

Sam knew exactly what she was doing, from the graceful way her back arched and her hips rocked against the mattress to the not-at-all-subtle shift of her leg, pressing right against his cloth-covered bulge. And he indulged her efforts with a gentle push of his own, moving his hips ever so slightly but keeping his focus (and the camera) on her. Because while POV wasn't exactly his forte, he knew the draw was the authenticity. And it was pretty easy to play up for the cameras how much he was into watching Dani touch yourself. And from the sounds she made, he knew the feeling was mutual. Though, that was yet another layer of patience. The fact that he couldn't see beneath her panties, though the darker patch of maroon at the center told him enough, just how turned on she really was and he grinned at that. "That's exactly what I want”, he told her, steadying the cam with one hand while the other reached down, fingers fanning across her throat and squeezing gently before slipping to brush along her collarbone. "Get it nice and wet for me darlin'. I wanna taste you."

POV was fairly new territory to her, but she had been in the industry long enough to know how it went, she had just never found anyone that she was comfortable enough with to get that up close and personal. But Sam? She knew he was good with artistic freedom, and so far it was showing to be the truth. Teeth digging into her bottom lip, she fluttered her eyes open to look at him grinning, a small smile spreading across her lips as she slowly rubbed her leg between his, giving him that friction that he'd picked up on earlier. The fingers at her throat, however, made a small moan crawl up her throat and fall from her lips, fingers still toying with her wetness as she hummed. "Yeah? Wanna taste how sweet I am for you?" She breathed out, licking her lips as she let out a slow whine, her hand that was on her breast moving to take his hand on her collarbone, "You can touch me if you wanna see how wet I am, all worked up for you...." She murmured, eyes locking onto his as she guided his hand down her body, right above her panties as she tilted her head to the side, the offer hanging thick in the air as she waited.

With a slow smile, he let Dani guide his hand lower, trailing against soft skin and the flat plane of her stomach down to hover at the top of her panties. It was easy for the camera to follow then, but Sam knew it would be a little cumbersome to hold and touch her the way he wanted and still have everything look good. Still, he'd make the effort, tightening his grip against the handheld just as his other hand slipped between the maroon satin, greeted by the damp heat of her arousal. Indeed, as he gently moved her hand aside to trail a teasing swipe of two fingers down and back up, he could easily sink into her warmth. The tips of his fingers were already soaked and he pulled them from her center to taste the wet he'd managed to coax from her with very little effort. The taste of her was sweet and heady and Sam pushed out a low groan around his fingers before dipping them back into her heat, this time pushing in and sinking deep with a swift stroke. Gingerly, he paused the handheld and set it aside, letting the camera propped in the corner take over as he leaned, fingers thrusting and moving , curling skillfully while his lips captured Dani's in a deep kiss.

There's a raise of her brows as she watched him expectantly, tongue coming out to swipe across her lips as she let go of his wrist to allow him under the satin material of her panties, a soft sigh of approval when she felt familiar digits swipe through her wetness, watching him work with the camera still in his hand. He liked a build up,  she'd heard him say it time and time again, and she was trying to deliver on her end for him that much was obvious. Teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she watched him move his fingers away and plop them into his mouth between his plush set of lips, she almost whined at the sight because it had to be one of her favorite views, alongside the sound of his low groan at the taste of her. But soon enough, those damp fingers dipped back under her panties, a shaky moan leaving her lips when he pushed them deep into her without any hesitation. "Fuck..." She murmured, letting him put the camera away before grabbing the back of his neck, bringing him closer as they kissed, knees bending and thighs parting in an almost needy way to get more.

A deep chuckle was lost in the fervent meeting of their lips, Sam's amusement at Dani's needy whine shifting into a heated kind of want that urged his fingers to move faster, or as best as they could while confined by the soaked satin of her panties.  He gave a short thrust against her thigh, needing to lessen the pressure  from his bulge and focus his energy on Dani, on plush lips and indulging in more of those messy, frantic presses and the feel of his fingers slipping and out of her wet, letting her clench and pulse around the relentless stroke. His free hand stroked her check before moving lower, fingers relaxing at her throat,  giving her more of those gentle, pressured squeezes from earlier while full lips hovered above her own. "Can you come just like this," he asked, the question nothing more than a quiet rumble, and he nipped at her jawline just as his grip tightened at her throat. The hand in her panties teased her clit, thumb circling the sensitive button in time with the thrust of his fingers, the sound of it shameless in the quiet of the room. Olive eyes were hot with lust, because it was easy to have that reaction with Dani looking as she did, a flush under golden tanned skin and Sam enjoyed watching her pleasure play out across pretty features, knowing it looked even better on camera. "You gonna be a good girl, and come hard for me? Hmm? C'mon babe. Let me hear you."

As his skillful fingers began to move faster, she let out another soft whine against his lips, fingers gripping the back of his hair as she felt that sweet pleasure pumped through her body. The way he grinded down against her thigh was hotter than she expected, feeling just how hard he was growing from just watching her was a rush, and she hummed under her breath as she fluttered her eyes closed at the relentless thrusts his digits gave her. But it wasn't under his fingers lightly wrapped around her neck that her eyes opened, locking onto his and her jaw went slack because he'd never ventured there. Sure, they had some pretty rough sex but...he never did /that/. A louder moan left her lips as she nodded, "Yes, fuck.....please." She begged, eyes unmoving as she rolled her hips up against his thumb as his grip tightened, only turning her on more because having him grip her neck like that had her buzzing. Her hand came up to grip his bicep, nodding as he spoke, "Just like that, yes, fuck.....yes." Dani praised, eyes fluttered closed as she tightened her other hand in his hair, heart pounding in the best way in her chest as that pleasure began to coil hot deep down in her body, moans tumbling in that raspy tone under her breath.

Seeing Dani's reaction, feeling her hips lift and rock against his fingers as her center tightened around steady strokes, Sam couldn't help but smile. A slow lift of lips and a small hum slipped out when her grip tugged harder at his hair. "That's it, pretty girl" he praised, curving his fingers as best as he could while still confined by her underwear, letting them thrust a little deeper to reach the spot that always left her shaking for him, all the while flexing and tightening his hand at her throat.

To say she was overwhelmed would've been an understatement, nails digging into his bicep as her head fell back against the pillows under her. His words were almost muffled in her ear because that grip on her throat had her all over the place in her head, only pushing her harder and harder towards a release even if she knew he'd be smug about it. But she didn't care, hell, she couldn't care because the way his fingers hit deeper, tapping that spot that had her mouth falling open with a small squeak as the only sound she could make, she was easily falling apart in his hand. "Fuck!" She yelped, thighs shaking as she trapped his arm between them, back arching as she came all over his digits. For a moment she felt numb, a small smile twitching on the corner of her lips as she rode out that blissful feeling.

Sam pressed a kiss to her cheek, lips smoothing over soft skin until he reached her mouth, tasting the sounds she'd made with a low moan of his own. It was easier to distract himself that way, knowing he'd looked a little dazed watching her shudder into her release. His grip loosened only slightly on her throat just as his hand slipped from the mess between her panties, lifting up a little, letting his wet fingers brush her lips before capturing them in a deeper kiss this time, savoring the heady taste of her with a heavy groan. He weight moved atop her completely, hips dropping into hers and he moved them in a slow grind, letting the hard bulge of his arousal press tight to  her center, right where he wanted her most as he continued to squeeze her at her neck. "Tell me how you want me," came the gruff  demand between those fierce, heated  presses and he thrust hard, pushing upwards only to slowly drag the weight of his still-clothed cock against her heat, just to make her moan for him.

There was something about that low moan that always made her feel like jelly, on top of those small throbbing feelings of pleasure deep in her stomach. Lips moving slowly against his, she sighed through her nose, hands coming up to cup either side of his face as she fluttered her eyes open, legs loosening the grip on his arm as she found his gaze. Mouth still open as she began to catch her breath, she felt his wet fingers brush along her lips, tongue coming out slightly to run along the tips of them before her mouth was once more devoured by his. A soft hum left her as she felt his weight on top of her, broad frame pressing against her in a way that had her only wanting more, especially when she felt how hard her was when he grinded down onto her. Legs parted to allow the roll of his hips, his hard bulge pushed right against her clit, still sensitive and earning a soft mewl of approval. His hand was still on her neck, squeezing her just right, and she let her eyes flutter closed with a small smile. "On your back." Dani managed to breathe into his mouth, fingers raking down his back as she rolled her hips up against him, "Think you can do that for me?"

He nodded, though it was a little longer until he actually complied, with Dani's request, leaning into the caress of her fingers at his back,  slowly releasing his grip from her neck, only to cup her cheek and kiss her a little more, gentle, teasing pecks until finally he shifted from the warmth between tanned legs to settle beside her on his back. The dull throb of his arousal had him palming the front of his boxer briefs, needing to relieve some of the pressure but touching Dani, seeing her so into the scene had worked him up enough where the touch only stoked the heat that sat low in his belly, leaving him a little dazed and wanting more.

She couldn't help the playful smile that spread along her face as he nodded, fingers running along the back of his shoulders as his hand let up on her neck, a soft sigh leaving her lips at the gentle kiss, almost melting into it for a moment of the fact they were filming wasn't in the back of her mind. Dani had a habit, usually only with him, to lose herself in the moment when it came to work but easily snapped back into reality when he rolled off her. Easily, she shifted up onto her knees, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she crawled up the bed towards him. Making it a point to arch her back, eyeing the way he was palming at himself, and she grabbed at his hand to help as she laid warm kisses along his stomach. That dazed look on his face had to be one of her favorite expressions, and she smirked as she placed a couple more kisses along his chest and collarbone before traveling back down his strong frame.

Sam watched Dani inch closer, lips tugging into a crooked grin as he tried to gauge her next move. He let her hand guide his with a muted groan, stroking himself through his underwear, jolting only slightly at the feel of her lips on his skin. The soft presses did nothing to soothe the need coiled hotly in belly, feeling spreading all over with every teasing kiss. To his abs, and chest, up to his collarbone and Sam was tempted to wrap his arm around her curves and keep her there, right where eager hands were ready to rip at their underwear (why were they both not naked, dammit) but then she was on the move again, slipping further down and he followed along with her, sitting up to curl an arm around her middle while the other parted her legs, settling her in his lap in an easy straddle while claiming a few more kisses. "Take this off," he rumbled against her lips, his hand sliding up her back to undo her bra clasp in a single, practiced move. The lace slipped down her shoulders and arms and Sam dipped his head to follow, lips closing around a pierced nipple with a moan.

Her plan was to get him worked out, that much with obvious with every teasing kiss she laid along his skin, and even if she had promised him power, she was attempting to do what laid back and POV videos were good for and that was build tension. Plus she knew how he got when he was worked up and that alone was enough motivation to linger and tease. Fingers raking along the sides of his body on the hand that wasn't helping him palm himself over the material of those boxers she so badly wanted off. But as she began to kiss back down his body, on the move to get said underwear off, she felt his strong arm wrap around her and tug her into his lap with a soft gasp as she was now straddling him. Lips now busy kissing him back, she heard the demand and let out a soft sigh as she arched her back whilst he easily undid the clasp of her bra. Soon enough the material began to slip down her arms, and she tilted her head back with a small mewl of approval as his lips wrapped around the sensitive bud, making her toss her bra somewhere in the room without regard. Rolling her hips down against his lap, she threaded her slender fingers through the back of his hair, teeth running along her plump bottom lip as she arched her back to push her chest closer to him.

Sam was far too focused, needing the distraction from Dani grinding in his lap, riding the ridge of him in a way that edged painful but felt so damn good it sent a shiver through him. He moaned around her breast, lips tugging at her piercing while his free hand massaged the other, and he trailed kisses from the valley between her breasts to the line of her throat, nibbling at the skin and skimming her jawline before meeting her lips once more.

She was making it a point to rub that wet splotch of a mess that he'd made right against his arousal, grinding right on it and feeling the hardened length in full form, making her eyes flutter closed as she kept her head tilted back. The vibrations of his moan against her chest made her hum in approval, licking her lips as he tugged at her piercing and palmed the other mound with large and greedy hands. "Lay....lay back." She said breathlessly, palms pushing on his chest as she followed him down, kissing him in a needy way before kissing down his chest, "Don't move." Dani commanded, even if she'd promised him control, she still had a one track mind on what she wanted to do, and after feeling how hard he was when she was in his lap, she couldn't get her mind off it. Fingers hooking through the sides of his underwear, she tugged them down his hips and nibbled at her bottom lip as she sprung him free. "You're all hard for me baby...." She purred, licking the palm of her hand as she kept her eyes on him before taking him in her grasp, beginning to pump and stroke him as she ran the flat of her tongue along the tip which was already collecting that sweet taste that had her moaning under her breath.

He had to bite back on the instinct to protest, especially with Dani grinding and moving against him but Sam managed to comply, settling with his back propped against the pillows and allowing her to drift lower. She seemed so damn determined, and really, how could he deny her. Though 'don't move' seemed especially difficult to follow once his boxer briefs were off and soft fingers were curled around his thick length, stroking in a way that made him shudder. But he resisted the urge to rock into her touch, but he did sit up long enough to grab the handheld camera, powering it back on and hitting record, just in time for the wet swipe of Dani's tongue across the sensitive head to send a hot shiver racing down his spine. "Fuck!" The moan was a rough one, a little louder than the one she'd pressed to him but he felt the vibrations against his dick and damn, if it didn't feel fucking fantastic.  It was a wonder he kept the camera steady but he managed it, even pushing out a breathless chuckle for good measure. "You know, the more you tease me, darlin'...I'm gonna give it right back. I'll have you screamin' my name before we're through, you can count on it."

Hearing the rough moan that flew off his lips, she realized in the back of her head that they hadn't done this too often. Actually, as she mentally racked her brain, she'd only done this once, off camera, and the memories of his reaction had her only eager to push him more. Usually he was good at distracting her, pulling her up on him and touching in her a way that made her unable to think straight. But now, she had him in her hand, literally, and the ball with in her court. As her tongue slid along his tip, she hummed as he spoke, nodding her head, "Promise?" She cooed in her usual raspy tone, glancing up at him as she moved her hands lower down and took his head in between her plush lips, sucking for a moment before sinking more of his thickness into her mouth. The taste of him had her moaning around him, hair covering her face as she bobbed her head slowly, hands now resting on either side of his hips to steady herself. The flat of her tongue slid along the underside of his cock, and she breathed skillfully out of her nose as she glanced up through thick lashes. For a moment at him, then a moment at the camera, a devilish gleam in dark hues.

"It's a guarantee," he bit out, the words wrapped in a muted groan. The interesting thing about filming at this angle, it allowed him to see every damn thing. Normally, he'd drop his head back and let the general camera do its thing, while he focused on the pleasure Dani was giving so skillfully. But keeping the camera steady while watching her work and still feeling every bit of what her talented tongue could do was a real turn-on. Sam reached out, fingers drifting through her hair to push it away from her face, wanting nothing to get in the way of that view. Full lips stretched, the wet suck of her mouth taking him in with every slow glide, paired with a steady stroke of her hand that made his hips rock forward in every pass. And he was generous with his sounds, the rough moans spilling out unchecked and he didn't bother stifling them. "I like the way it feels, when you moan like that" he told her, flashing her a brief smile and he let his fingers slip through her soft dark hair, tugging gently at the strands. "Do it again."

There's a small flutter of her lashes as she glanced up at him, feeling his long fingers push her hair out of her face, head bobbing along the thick length that weighed heavy in her mouth. The sounds were heavenly, soaking in every rough groan to tumble from his lips, and her fingers raked along his skin as she felt his hips rock upwards to only push more into her mouth. Sucking in her cheeks, she slowly pulled her mouth off the end with a small pop, hand replacing her mouth as he tugged at her hair and told her to do it again. "Yeah? You like that?" She teased with a playful grin, nodding her head as she wrapped her full lips around him again, this time humming a low moan as she took as much of him as she could, eyes staying on him as she breathed through her nose and relaxed her gag reflex, throat clenching and fluttering around him as she pulled off him with a small gasp, repeating the motion once more for good measure.

Sam had to stop himself from pulling her hair too hard, though the tightened grip of his fingers in her hair was reflexive, instinctual once Dani deep-throated him with ease. The move caught him off guard, had him considering tossing the camera aside altogether in favor of fucking her mouth the way his body clearly wanted to, judging from the hard roll of his hips once he hit the back of her throat. Dani swallowed against him, best as she could, the sensation wringing out another rough moan from his own throat, as he moved against hers, rocking into every deep glide down and the bob of her head when she pulled back until they'd built up a rhythm that he could feel all over, warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach and lower, causing his breath to stutter. Though his movements never faltered, lifting his hips in hard, fluid thrusts to gently fucking into her mouth, already feeling that familiar pressure building steadily and he pushed out a low groan.

A soft whine left her lips as his fingers tightened in her hair, feeling the small sting that was just right to send pleasure through her, and she slipped one of her hands between her own legs to try and touch herself because she was already getting all worked up. Going down on guys had always been one of her favorites, but with Sam, it was almost like heaven. Earning all those noises and grunts and that look on his face? It was perfect. The hard roll of his hips had the tip of him pushing against her throat and she breathed out heavily through her nose, controlling her gag to her best abilities. Soon enough he got in a rhythm, the feeling of him guiding her head down with every lift of his hips had she in bliss as she tried to keep her breathing paced out just right. Every bob back came with a harsh suck and her hand moved to cup at his balls, rolling them in the palm of her hand to get him to that break that always had him take her just the way she wanted.

Sam felt her whine more than heard it, the vibration meeting his sensitive tip and causing him to shudder a bit. The overstimulation of it all was a thrill, edging the line of pleasurable and far too much, especially once he felt Dani's touch shift lower, cupping the smooth sac and teasing him in a way that made him bite back the strangled sound threatening to spill out. Plump bottom lip caught between his teeth, Sam had to shut the handheld off and gently pushed it to the other side of the bed. He could feel himself hovering right along the edge of his release and knew it wouldn't take too many more of Dani's hands and mouth working him over like that before he'd come apart and that couldn't happen just yet, not when he wanted to feel her clenching around him. "Fuck," came another hoarse groan, followed by a shiver and his back arched, and Sam's hold in her hair tightened, tugging harder to get her attention and he shook his head and pushed out a 'not yet'. He shifted away, just enough to lean over and grab the condom from the end table. Full lips, slightly reddened from biting down on those muffled moans twitched into a ghost of a smirk, his head and body far too focused on getting what he wanted to do much more. "Get on your back," he told her, a little breathless but still firm, releasing his hold in her hair and his other hand gripped his dick, sliding down to the base and giving himself a brief squeeze to ease back from that edge. Steady fingers tore at the condom wrapper and quickly sheathed himself, giving a few errant strokes before he was pushing up onto his knees and moving towards Dani, a determined gleam in olive eyes.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, lust and adrenaline pumping through her with nothing but determination on her mind. Dani chased after those sounds, desperate moves of her hands and head as she fluttered her eyes closed to focus because the more she looked at Sam, the harder it was to concentrate on what she wanted. She hadn't even noticed the click off of the camera, not until he tightened that hold in her hair and arched his back, glancing up at him under her lashes to see that look on his face. There's a small smirk on her face as she felt him shift, sliding out of the warmth of her mouth as she licked her lips, and hearing say not yet, knowing she had him well worked up. Hand moving to give a few lazy strokes, she nodded slowly as she watched him with nothing but an intense lust filling her gaze. A small laugh slipping her lips, she crawled up the back and rolled over onto her back, glancing down at the panties still hanging on her wide hips, "You gonna fuck me, Samson? Make me fall apart screaming your name?" She murmured, loud enough for the camera as she beckoned him closer, knees bent as she spread her thighs and tilted her head to the side, propped up on her elbows.

It was always better to show; they were filming, after all. Still determined, still focused on what he wanted, what they both did, judging from Dani's teasing and Sam and his one track mind was ready to deliver on his guarantee and then some. He gripped her ankles and tugged, bringing her further down the bed and closer towards him, close enough to reach her panties. This pair, he was careful with, sliding them down her body,  letting his fingers span her hips and drift along thick thighs until the soaked satin was tossed aside and she was open to him. And then he gripped her legs again, leaning in just enough to capture her lips in a slow kiss, allowing his tongue and the unhurried glide to distract her while he settled those soft legs atop broad shoulders, widening his stance and sinking into her core with one fluid thrust. One palm pressed to the bed was all he needed, the leverage enough to allow him to pick up his rhythm to a steady pace of thrusts, relentless in pursuing more of those flutters and tapping at her spot with a hard bounce. The position of her legs left her open to him and Sam breathed out a short laugh and brushed his lips to hers just as his other hand closed around her throat again, in that tight hold he quickly realized was such a turn on for her. "This what you needed, Dani?" he asked, possibly unnecessarily, given the mad flutter of her walls and the greedy way they clenched around him. She was so wet, so soft, the stroke was effortless, driving into her over and over, eager to please her and bring them both to the edge, letting his grip on her neck go slack only to squeeze again, tightening on every down stroke and bouncing thrust just to feel that flutter.

When he grabbed her ankles and yanked her down closer to him, she let out an almost giddy laugh, which was sort of out of character for her except for the fact this was supposed to be a homemade type of video which was her saving grace there. Lifting her hips as he let his large hands grasp along her waist, tugging her panties down her legs with ease before tossing them somewhere in the room. The way he was gripping her legs, grabbing at her quickly and harshly, it made her skin burn in a way she didn't know it could, pleasure surging under every touch. Tilting her chin up, she met the kiss with a low hum, tongue tasting his own in a slow glide as her hands came up to cup both sides of his strong jaw while her thumb ran along the surface with ease. It wasn't until she felt the roll forward of his hips that she realized the angle she was at, a gasp leaving her lips as she felt him fill her up. "Fuck..." She breathed out, one hand falling from his face while the other gripped his arm that was pressed to the bed. That breathy, low laugh killed her as her eyes fluttered open to look at him, heart hammering in her chest as his large hand pressed to her throat. "Yes.....fuck, yes. Harder, please." She breathed out to the best of her ability, lips brushing against his as she spoke, small whimpers tumbling off her lips without any hesitation, feeling the way she clenched and fluttered around him while he kept those deep strokes and that grip on her neck, God that grip on her neck had her reeling as she let out another breathless moan.

Sam was happy to indulge that 'harder', backed so nicely with that needy 'please', fingers firming their grip tighter around her throat just as he switched up the rhythm of his hips, giving in to the grinding rhythm his body wanted. He'd lifted up only slightly to watch Dani's pleasure play out, her pretty face so responsive, even without the gasps and whimpers, though he savored every sound greedily, leaning in to nip at her chin. His hair fell between them and he flipped long blond locks and effortless to one side, wanting not to obstruct his (and the camera's) view of her. "Harder, babe? You're so damn greedy." Despite the taunt he obliged her, hitting his stride with those strong upward thrusts, bouncing her harder on his dick, enough to make him moan. That warm, tingling feeling was back, the sensation of it all causing a shudder to ripple through him and he knew he couldn't last much longer, not with the way she clenched around him. "That's my good girl. You gonna come for me? Hmm?"

Her mouth fell open as she felt the tightened grip on her throat, eyes squeezing shut as he complied to her request of harder, twisting in this pleasure that was unreal as he kept it up. She couldn't even think straight, but she able to flutter her eyes open to look at him through a hooded gaze, practically dazed as he leaned forward and nipped at her skin. "Oh my fucking god....." She breathed out, voice barely above a whisper, and she forgot the cameras were even there. Not that there was much of a difference with her and Dani Danger at this moment, both would be absolutely left breathless by his actions. Hand coming up to push his hair out of his face, fingers threading through the silky blonde locks and holding him there.  Moans were tumbling off her lips before she could even check them, mind hazy as she heard the sound of his practically driving into her harder and deeper than she could've anticipated, "Dios mío, fóllame tan bien, no pares." The words spilled from her mouth before she could even think straight, not that she realized it when she was clenching and fluttering around him with every thrust he provided, pleasure building up in the depths of her stomach as her hand gripped onto his shoulder, nails raking down his back as she nodded her head at his question. "So fucking close baby, fuck.....please."

He huffed out a soft laugh, a slow smile stretching full lips when he heard her speak again, the tumble of Spanish that he only managed to catch about every other word but still managed to be incredibly fucking sexy. And Sam didn't know if that was the Danger persona or Dani jumping out but he was far too gone to figure it out, it was all a turn on. "Please?" he repeated, pausing only to push up from the mattress, one hand still clutching throat while the other wrapped around her middle.  With his knees still pressed to the bed, he rested on his haunches, using the leverage to fuck up into her, taking advantage of the switch in angle, with Dani's legs still on his shoulders, stretching her body in a way that he knew could only work thanks to her extensive workouts, but knew the payoff would be sweet, judging from the frantic flutters of her walls around him. Every thrust upwards bounced her in his hold and the arm around her waist brought her back down, meeting every stroke until the sound of skin against skin was the only thing heard. And through it all, he managed to keep the firm grip at her throat, despite the burn in his thighs and hips, his body still craving the release they were both so damn close to. "Show me how much you love it, baby." The words were a low rumble between breathless moans, and he was overwhelmed in the best way, but managed not to falter, even if words were getting harder to form. "C'mon. Be a good girl and come for me."

Her whole body felt like it was on fire, and the struggle to be able to think straight was slowly slipping away from her, body now taking complete and total control. It was animalistic in a way, and she loved every second of it, the pleasure ripping her up from the inside out and she opened her eyes when he repeated her beg. Brows raising as he paused, looking over his face as her chest was rising and falling in an attempt to catch her breath. Her frame was tugged upwards, shoulders pressing into the bed as his strong arm wrapped around her middle, the stretch noticeable but soon overshadowed by the way he began to slam into her again. And that damn hand was still gripping at her throat, a loud gasp leaving her as she slammed her hand down onto the bed to grab at the sheets, back arching in his hold, "Fuck, Samson...." She almost slipped up on his name, but somehow had managed to let it leave her lips in a breathless tone, body shaking as he spoke and kept fucking up into her with the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room. That pleasure was a fire, ripping up through her core along her spine, and she couldn't help the loud cries and yeses that kept flying off her lips, "I'm...fuck, I'm cumming, please....baby, I can't." She was grabbing at the sheets with one hand, the other one grabbing at his leg to let her nails rake down the skin as she shook in his hold, head falling back as she clenched and pulled around her him, cumming hard around him as she let out a spew of noises.

Sam couldn't even find the focus to be smug, far too caught up in the feel of Dani's release and the sight of her, head tossed back in pleasure  and the way her whole body practically buzzed against his. He could feel that tremble in her thighs and with every deep push, chasing down that sensation while she shook and shuddered in his hold. Sam loosened his hand from her throat, both arms wrapping around her waist as he slammed into her heat with a hard thrust, and another, and once more, fucking her through her climax and right into his own with a rough growl, his heart thumping in time to the rhythm of his hips until he shuddered to a stop. "Jesus," he moaned, chest heaving as he struggled to keep them both upright, keep an arm locked around Dani while the other shifted her legs from his shoulders to wrap around his waist.

Her body felt almost like it was floating, loving every touch that he continued giving, even with the absence of his hand on her throat, the hold on her waist was tighter. A soft squeak and moan came with every slam up into her, each one hard and deep, and she knew she was going to feel it tomorrow if she dared to even work out. Not that she figured she needed one anyways, not after this session with Sam tonight. Soon, her shaky legs were slipped down to rest along the curve of his back, right along his waist as she licked her lips. "I know....fuck." Dani breathed out, hooded gaze looking down at him now that she was perched in his lap, pushing sweat damp strands out of his face with her manicured fingers. She could feel her legs shaking still, body buzzing as she rolled her hips down against him with a nibble on her bottom lip with a shaky breath before she leaned forward to press a slow kiss to his lips.

A small hiss slipped out between their kiss and Sam parted his lips when a groan followed, hands gripping Dani's hips to stop the movement he could feel all over, and where they were still connected, warmth still fluttering around him and his own hips jerking at the overstimulation of it all.  "Babe, pause." He pushed a palm up the smooth expanse of her back, moving higher as fingers cupped her cheek, and he offered her a small, shaky smile. "I gotta tap out, sugar. Any more, and I think you might take me out for a few days."

Hands still in his hair, she smiled only slightly because her body was still giving small shakes as she let him make that low groan against her mouth, large hands grabbing at her hips as she let out a small, breathless laugh, "It was an accident." She said innocently, smirking a bit as she let her eyes open to find his, looking into those olive color hues. Nodding as he spoke, she bit down on her bottom lip, leaning into the touch of his hand on her face. "I don't think I could go another round either..." Dani murmured, loud enough for the cameras before pressing another kiss to his lips before leaning over to grab the remote and click the camera off. Still in his lap, she breathed out a soft sigh before pressing a kiss to his forehead, "Well, fuck." She laughed out, running her fingers through his hair again, feeling the sweat beading down her back still.

"Wasn't no damn accident," Sam mumbled, attempting a scolding tone but his smile, small and tired gave him away.  He gave a sigh once the camera was shut off, his head dropping to Dani's shoulder, needing the minutes to collect himself before he'd have to move. "Editing this is gonna be fun," he said with a small snort. His nose brushed the curve of her neck, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin there. "I should probably get up, get myself together..."

She felt the weight of his head on her shoulder, fingers combing through the back of his hair as he was seemingly collecting himself, as was she, trying to make her breathing pattern back to normal. Raising her brows, she giggled a bit under her breath as she hummed, "Yeah, you probably got some pretty good angles of me." Dani said with a playful tone, smiling softly at the press of plush lips to her neck, but she pouted out her bottom lip as he spoke, "Ugh, do you really have to though....." She said, leaning back to look down at him and run the tips of her fingers along his jaw, "We could just, sit here for a few more minutes, and then collect our shit. Because I'm comfy, I'll even wash your hair for you as a trade."

"I did," he murmured into her skin. "You looked so damn good. I know the viewers'll love it." The offer was a tempting one, considering he was tired and Dani's fingers drifting and sifting through his hair already felt good but also made Sam...very aware of things. And he lifted his head, pressed a chaste kiss to Dani's cheek and covered up that moment with his signature crooked grin. "I'm a real diva about my hair, I won't put you through that. But it's sweet of you to bribe me so nicely, darlin'." He gave her bottom a gentle swat before lifting her soundly and setting her beside him. The loss of her heat against him pulled a low groan from his throat, and Sam shifted to the edge of the bed, taking a minute before pushing up. His legs weren't as shaky as he figured and it was easy to head to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and wash up, brushing a hand through his hair as he returned to Dani, scooping up his boxer briefs and tugging them on before sitting back on the bed. "See? Didn't take long."

There was a smile on her face as she listened to him talk, soft as she threaded her fingers through his hair, but suddenly he lifted his head and she leaned back with a raise of her brows when his lips quickly pecked her cheek. Shaking off the feeling, she managed to force a neutral expression as he spoke, "Yeah....no problem." She murmured with a nod of her head, soft laugh leaving her as he gave that little smack and lifted her off him. There was with feeling, a feeling of looking almost silly with her request, not that he owed her any sort of agreement. But still, she swallowed it down and watched him go, tucking a strand of hair behind her head as she sat there and stared at the ground. Scooting to the edge of the bed, she got to her feet as she padded across the room with weak legs, grabbing a pair of soft cotton shorts and a thin knit tank top, throwing them on in silence as she pushed all these thoughts out of her head. Hearing him enter the room again, she nodded, "Yeah, yeah, glad you and your diva hair are all sorted out." She joked, keeping her back to him as she closed her drawers and pulled her hair up into a bun.

His clothes were nearby and beyond reaching for his jeans, Sam made no actual move to get dressed. He did however watched Dani pull on clothes and fix her hair, noting the slight change in the room's mood. Standing up, he tugged on his jeans with a small hop before moving behind Dani, still turned away from him. Strong hands gripped her waist and he dipped his head to press a kiss behind her ear. "We good?"

It was almost a curse that she let her false thoughts overshadow logical thinking, and she closed her eyes to push it all out of her head. It was Sam, for crying out loud, he appreciated her for more than her body.....right? She knew he did, deep down she did, but her mind was alerting her to be more cautious with her vulnerability, something she noticed she let slip when he snapped his head up and got her off of him not too long ago. As she finishing tying her hair up, she felt his presence behind her, hands gripping her waist before pressing that kiss to her skin. Nodding, her tucked one of her shorter layers behind her ear and humming easily, letting her attitude shift as she nodded, "Yeah, I'm just tired, why?" It was half true, she was worn out and she spun around in his hold to look up at him with a raise of her brows, offering the warmest smile she could muster as she smoothed her hands over his bare shoulders. But she had noted the jeans, and she nibbled on her bottom lip as she tilted her head to the side.

Whether or not she was actually tired or just reacting from his earlier moment of confusion, Sam wasn't sure if he wanted to press it further. They were having a good moment, no need to do more overthinking. "Just askin'" he replied, mirroring her casual tone and offering Dani an easy smile once she turned to face him. "Figured you wanted  some alone time, since you got dressed and all. But, I can spend some time with you, if you want me to."

Furrowing her brows up at him when he spoke, a look of confusion crossed her face when he said it seemed like she wanted alone time. That was the last thing she wanted, of course, and there was just this constant miscommunication going on so she shook her head as she rested her hands on the sides of his neck, "I was just putting on something comfy, I couldn't exactly wear what I was wearing...." She explained, glancing over to the satin material on the ground before sighing and glancing back up to him, "I just, I don't know, didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything....you should know I pretty much always want your company, unless I say otherwise. So, if you want to....you can stay?"

Sam shook his head, feeling slightly sheepish at jumping to conclusions. Gauging her reactions sometimes was a little difficult, but this was on him. "I'm not uncomfortable, it's all good. Well, maybe a little in these clothes." He smiled briefly at his own joke and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Tell you what, I'm gonna head back to my place to change, and then I'll come back and hang out. Sound good?"

There was always that underlying feeling that maybe he was being nice because he felt sorry for her, but then again, Dani didn't really take him as the type to bullshit. In all honesty, she knew the problem deep down was her own jealousy and insecurity, so she took a deep breath and let out a small laugh at his response, "Okay, good, I was just checking because I know I can be a little....extra, sometimes." She mused with a hum as he kissed her forehead, "Yeah, not the comfiest choice. Go ahead, I'll just leave the door unlocked, okay?" She told him easily, pushing up on her toes to press a small kiss to his cheek with a soft smile, "I'll see you in a bit."

#discord: sam. #ft. sam. #discord: all. #week22. #ndhqcontent

[theliterateape]

Before You Go All-in on Antifa, Try Becoming Antifra First

by Don Hall

The laughter at my expense was not the kind of guffawing that accompanies a sense of genial ribbing but of Biff Tannen cracking up at the awkward geekiness of George McFly.

"What do you think queer means, Don?"

"I always thought queer meant gay."

Laughter. "No. Queer means refusing to accept the binary in sex."

"Isn't that bisexual?"

Cackles. "No. Bisexual is having a sexual attraction to both biological sexes."

"Who the fuck decided that? Was there a memo sent out?"

The evolution of language is, taken as a long tail concept, natural. When the Miriam Webster Dictionary enters finna (contraction. DIALECT•US, verb. finna: going to; intending to. "I'm finna make a scene") one has to grudgingly accept the fact. It is both the codifying of slang as standard and the pushing the envelope of common dialect. It can get confusing but it is as normal as language itself.

The term fragile is very popular in 2021 but I'm not certain the people who use it as a political label have an understanding of what it means. The redefinition seems to be a synonym for defensive but that isn't even close to the original so it doesn't play. Considering how loaded the term has become politically, I'd suggest we take a look at the pre-DiAngelo meaning and embrace it some before we continue forcing the evolution.

Back to that handy tome of mutual agreement of terms, the dictionary has a few definitions of fragile:"easily broken or damaged", "flimsy or insubstantial; easily destroyed.", and "not strong or sturdy; delicate and vulnerable".

A nine year old boy is enticed to have penetrative sex with his fourteen year old babysitter one afternoon while his little sister watches Joe Namath as "C.C. Ryder" on the television a room away. 

This is either molestation or an uncomfortably early rite of passage. The argument can be made that a nine year old cannot give consent but that's not how I remember it. A more fragile person might see this experience as traumatic. He might internalize shame and let the shame fester until he finally explodes like a liter of Diet Coke and a Mento tab. An anti fragile person might see it as no different than playing in the streets when the sewers back up the neighborhood becomes a river in the rain. No stigma, no shame, no harm.

The anti fragile adult is going to have a happier life if not the attention lauded upon a fragile victim of circumstances beyond his control.

I was a latchkey kid.

We lived in an apartment complex on the less than affluent side of town. Mom worked several jobs and the step-dad at the time was a preening, disco-dancing domestic abuser. As such, I found myself out and about without a lot of safety nets in place. I played in a septic ditch just on the outer parameter of the complex. On the other side was an abandoned housing development and I frequently went over there alone to practice my karate (which I thought I was learning from watching David Carradine in Kung Fu, a popular episodic featuring a white man posing as an Asian man who saved people with his peaceful but forceful side kicks). I’d kick holes in the drywall pretending it was comprised of bad guys.

On the north side was, in my mind, a forest but in reality was just a bunch of trees in several abandoned lots. Whenever I ran away from home (a feat that usually lasted until I was tired or hungry) I would go to my forest and “read” the tattered copies of Playboy and Penthouse I had stolen from the aforementioned step-parent.

To the south was a playground for the kids in the complex. A rickety swing set, a teeter-totter, and a broken merry-go-round surrounded by garbage dumpsters. A cursory examination of the dumpsters—a routine activity for a vagabond third grader—revealed a coterie of used hypodermic needles, marijuana roaches, empty liquor bottles and fast food trash.

It’s likely that parents reading this have already crossed themselves or knocked on wood in deference to the fact that their children would never be put in these positions. That their children are safe.

One day, as I had exhausted myself from kicking holes into drywall villains, I headed to the playground. There was no one else around and I decided that I wanted to swing but not on the actual rubber strap. I unhooked the strap from the hefty S-hook it hung from and grabbed it like Tarzan on a vine. I started to swing around in circles holding as tightly as I could to the chain.

Slowly, I began to slide down until the S-hook punctured my white jeans and then into my scrotum. I felt some discomfort and looked down and saw blood on my crotch but I couldn’t disengage. I was hooked, by my ballsack, to the chain. I panicked and did my best to scramble up the chain but the S-hook was firmly in there and the chain just followed me up.

I screamed for help. No help arrived. I struggled and the blood started running down my left pant leg, flowering out like a Rorschach. It seemed I was hanging there for hours but the reality was more likely a few minutes until the hook, now greased with blood, slid out of my nuts and I fell to the dirt. 

Leaping up, I dropped trou on the spot to inspect the damage but there was so much blood that I couldn’t see what was actually a small leaking hole. I cried. I squalled. With my pants around my knees, I ran home.

I smashed into the front door screaming bloody murder that my balls were bleeding. My mother, shocked by the sight of her 9-year-old kid, reddened pants around his knees, crotch covered in blood, and in high hysteria (I mean, who make among us wouldn’t be?), laughed out loud. A giggle turned into a laugh transforming to a barking guffaw.

The more dramatic I was about it, the harder she laughed. Out of shock, out of horror, out of knowing how melodramatic her son was prone to be. She giggled as she washed my junk off and saw the tiny hole. She giggled episodically as she put an ice pack on it and tossed me in the car to go to the emergency room. She stopped laughing by the time we reached the hospital and I received two stitches on the underside of my underside.

A more fragile person might grow up with this experience in desperate need to pay someone to listen to his trauma.

"My mother laughed at my bleeding scrotum!" he'd wail as the therapist did her best to stifle her own laughter. He might write a book much later after his antidepressants and struggle session with his mother commenced entitled "Men and The Mothers Who Giggled at Their Nuts" and an article in The Atlantic "Incels and Their Reasons."

An anti fragile person might see this as pretty fucking funny.

In 1992, I was mugged just outside the Granville Redline stop in Chicago. It was around 2:30 a.m. on a Saturday morning. I had just played a gig on the Southside with a big band known as The Outcasts and, still in my tuxedo, decided to walk the block to an all-night diner for some breakfast when three young black men hit me with a two-by-four and then proceeded to kick the shit out of me on the sidewalk.

They stole $14.00 in cash and a check for $200.00 from the gig.

Bruised but not broken, when I told the police that I was mugged by three young black guys and what were the chances I'd get my money back, they laughed. Not like Biff Tannen but more along the lines of Denzel in Training Day to a naive Ethan.

Later, when I met with Gil, the drummer and band leader, to have him cut me another check, Gil muttered as he canceled the first "N****rs are the fucking worst." It would have been cause for some sort of reckoning except that Gil was black.

A fragile mind might find himself going over and over the incident, blaming himself, blaming black men everywhere, blaming the cops. 

An anti fragile mind understands that shit happens and you can't dwell too much on it because that means you're spending a lot of time thinking about shit.

The more time one spends dwelling on shit, the worse the place smells. It's like living with five cats. At some point, you have no idea that your apartment stinks like cat asshole but your Tinder date sure does.

Commonsense Media has polled some info out and it seems that the kids are wallowing in catshit.

23% of 14- to 17-year-olds say they "often" came across racist comments on social media in 2020 — nearly double the number in 2018 (12%).

"Sadly, but not surprisingly, the teens and young adults who are most likely to be affected by such content are also most likely to encounter it — or recognize and remember it," says the study, which was done in partnership with Hopelab and the California Health Care Foundation.

Black young people are more likely than whites to see racist comments "often" (34% vs 23%). LGBTQ+ youth are more than twice as likely than non-LGBTQ+ youth to encounter homophobic comments (44% vs 18%). Females are more likely to encounter sexist and body shaming posts than males.

On top of all this feline fecal material, it turns out that both actual mental health issues as well as the frequently self-diagnosed PTSD cases are dramatically on the rise. Where, in my formative years, comparisons of how many push-ups one could do was common, today's kids compare anti-depressant cocktails.

Under almost any definition, this is the behavior of fragility. Fragile like a Fabergé Egg in the back of a pickup truck on a dirt road going 75 miles an hour.

Surrounded by catshit, constantly seeing the injury you're looking for and thus finding it everywhere, always feeling aggrieved and victimized. What the fuck can you do except feel like you need to be bathed in Bactine just to survive life's never-ending abrasions?

First, decide what's more important than your feels. 

Most people let their every waking moment be dictated by feelings—both theirs and everyone else's. This is a one-way path to thinner skin, gentler sacks, and a general inability to live in a world outside of an echo chamber that has been hermetically sealed.

Becoming anti fragile is the process of understanding that there are a lot of things more important than your feelings. Romulans are fragile; Vulcans are not. This isn’t to say you shouldn’t have the feels—just don’t let them make your decisions for you. It might feel great to scream at the obnoxious woman at the Walgreen’s counter but it’s smarter to mind your business and buy your condoms and Zagnut bar while shutting the fuck up.

Second, get better at feeling bad and keeping it to yourself.

Just like most people allow their lives to be led by the nose by their feelings, most people think they are somehow important. They aren’t. You aren’t. The way skin thickens up is by taking some hits and learning that there are far worse things than being insulted, micro-aggressed, or shamed publicly. Grow a sack and a sense of proportion.

Finally, as the Stoics go, assume you have something to learn in every interaction rather than you have something to teach. I mean, who the fuck are you? To most people, you aren’t anyone of note so suck on the bitter teat of humility and join the throng, kiddo.

As Jalāl ad-Dīn Mohammad Rūmī once wrote "Yesterday I was clever so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise so I am changing myself."

Be wise because clever people write for McSwenis and those assholes suck.

#fragility

[pleasegivemeanokaygrade]

Try This Assignment #3

Try This 3

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3.9

Write a poem about hating your body

Title: My name is Morty.

My nose is too big and my hairline is receding

I have the spinal structure of an 80-year-old man

Sitting in a breakfast nook with The Times, reading

I want to be young and jump and play but my back is kind of screwish

I’m tired of being mistaken for an elderly Jewish

Guy who also happens to not be very good at anything.

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3.6

Write about how you are stressed 2nd person

Title: Get Up.

Your sociology paper is coming up, but you haven't started yet.

Your back hurts so much you sometimes can’t get out of bed, but you haven’t booked an appointment with the doctor yet.

The Russian girl who lives in the building next to yours might have a crush on you, but you haven’t texted her yet.

Why can’t you get anything done?

You’re a depressed piece of shit, stop being lazy and get up and make something happen.

What do you want?

Do you know?

Yes. You know what you want.

You want to be a kick-ass student whose essays about social justice are so passionate they make the teacher cry.

You want to be able to pick up something heavier than your phone without falling because your back gave out.

You want to date the fuck out of that Russian girl because she is super cute and she likes you.

But you just won’t get up.

Do it, loser.

Get up.

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3.4

Write about someone you dislike, then write a monologue from that person explaining their childhood life.

Title: Michael.

My ex-roommate, Michael, was like if Joe Dirt from the movie Joe Dirt was an actual fucking person.

His life sucks because he makes astoundingly dumb choices on a day to day basis.

His bathroom was right next to my bedroom and he would go to poop at like 2 in the morning and he would be very loud about it. He would moan and make weird noises that I really think most people wouldn’t make.

He didn’t know how to put his things away or do the dishes. His unfinished, unstudied homework from two quarters ago was left on the coffee table until he moved out and I threw it away. He left food in the fridge for months. Rotting, unwrapped corn on the cob was found, an uncovered bowl of putrid lunchmeat. He was a Trump supporter who once said IN FRONT OF PEOPLE that he believed homeless people should be used as slaves during a discussion about Washington’s homelessness abundance.

He said things that didn’t make sense, he couldn’t explain what he meant, he cried when he was confronted.

He’s been harassing one of my female friends, he even proposed to her. She doesn’t even really know him.

He can’t hold a job for more than 7 straight days because he always leaves the house 10 minutes after he’s scheduled to start working.

He defaulted on his housing bills and was subsequently kicked out of our apartment by the landlord.

“When I was 9, my dad raped me on the back patio of our section .8 duplex. He beat my head into the concrete as his heavy fist gripped in my hair. He pushed me onto all fours and then pulled my hands out from under me. I couldn’t even see my own bloodstains on the ground because it was so dark outside. My glasses were shattered into my face, with every thrust he lifted up my head and slammed it down again. I was crying so hard no sound came out. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see, I can’t even remember it happening, but it did. I woke up naked the next morning on the kitchen floor. My older brother was sitting at the table eating cereal. He didn’t even take a second look at me when i began to crawl down the hall to the room we shared. I pulled myself into my bed and closed my eyes. My mother woke me up by yelling at me. The sheets were stained with shit and blood. I told her I’d clean it up but she slapped me and walked out. My family is Mexican. I hate Mexicans. White parents would never do this. White parents gave their kids toys and candy and good food. My parents never bought me anything. We can’t let another family like this in. We can’t enable the goodness of America, my country America to be tarnished by filth like this. If I could build a wall around my family to keep them out, I would do anything it takes to get that wall up.”

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3.2

You borrowed a car and got into a fender bender. Write the police report. Write an explanation to the person who you borrowed the car from. And write a letter telling the story to a different friend.

Title: 545 Horse Power

On June 15th, 2018, at 11:49AM I was involved in a motor vehicle accident while making a right turn on red at the intersection of Kent Kangley and 320th Street, Kent, Washington. The day was clear and the roads were dry.

The two drivers involved were Krishna Srini, whose driver's license number is 98097352, and Rebecca Chung whose driver’s license number is 9807254223.

I was driving my roommate’s car which was a burgundy 2015 Toyota Tundra SR5 Limited Double Cab with a modified engine block and a supercharger. The vehicle is registered under the name Haengil Kim. I had borrowed his car in order to transport large pieces of furniture. Ms. Chung’s car was a silver 2004 Land Rover Range Rover SE. Neither vehicle was carrying other passengers.

When the road was clear, I performed a right turn on red in the borrowed car as Ms. Chung simultaneously decided to perform a U-turn while she was in the turn lane. The two vehicles collided at low, decelerating speed as both drivers saw what was about to happen and hit their breaks abruptly.  Both vehicles had similar small dents in opposing sides of the front bumper with significant paint damage. Both drivers pulled into the closest parking lot to get out of the way of traffic and discuss the incident. No one was hurt.

Dude, this lady did a super zippy uturn today while I was in the middle of making a turn myself and she swung into the front bumper of your truck. I’m so sorry man, when I saw her I tried to slam the brakes but this thing is so heavy! I’m not used to driving a car this heavy, you know? I didn’t stop fast enough for her to get through and we tapped front bumpers pretty hard. I took down all her information and stuff though and I’ll pay you back for whatever the price of repair is.

Mate, I crashed Ichi’s car. I was doing a right turn on red and I didn’t check to see the uturn and I hit someone who was trying to uturn because the road was clear. I’m such an idiot. The thing is such a powerful monstrosity that I thought I would be able to make it fast enough to miss her but it accelerates slow because it’s so damn heavy and I didn’t make it. I told him I’d pay for whatever damages but he said it was fine and his insurance will cover it. The worst part is, he probably won’t be offering to let me borrow it anymore and I will miss that thing so much. Dude, I mean it’s a crate V8 with a supercharger. You know how much I love that stuff, my car before I moved here was a 2017 Toyota Fortuner TRD Pro with a supercharger. Ohhhhh my god that thing was such a beast. That thing was my life and soul and borrowing Ichi’s truck has been the closest thing I’ve had to getting that Horse Power high back.

[afroavocadowitch]

News reports & important tips on POS & POS Equipment.

Francisco Estrada and his wife, Lizzeth Martinez, had successful careers in Mexico City. Estrada was a lawyer, and Martinez was an interior designer and chef. But threats of kidnapping—possibly connected to Estrada’s work as a federal attorney—led them to relocate to San Antonio nearly four years ago. For Martinez, the professional transition was smooth. She was born in Laredo, went to college in San Antonio, and quickly found work at a design firm in San Antonio. It was difficult for Estrada. His years of legal experience didn’t mean much in Texas, and the couple’s savings didn’t go far in the United States. “When you convert all those pesos into dollars, you realize it’s like twenty dollars,” Martinez says. While waiting for his residency status to be secured, Estrada began renovating their home and attempting to line up work. “He was fixing the house, playing housewife, and all that,” Martinez laughs. The story of Naco Mexico Eatery, Estrada and Martinez’s taco trailer, is one of both struggle and levity. 

Estrada told his wife that he’d do whatever was necessary to help bring in financial support, even if it meant selling tacos on a corner. That’s what he set out to do. The couple bought a trailer at an auction and refurbished it with their “bare hands, fingernails, and boogers. Uñas y mocos!” Martinez says, laughing again. In 2018, they opened Naco Mexican Eatery. The trailer’s name refers to its location along the old Nacogdoches Road, which follows one of the routes of the old El Camino Real de los Tejas, established in the eighteenth century by the Spanish for trade. “Naco” is also slang for lowlife, low class, or lowly. “Mexicans immediately recognize the word and know the business is Mexican-owned, while it’s short and catchy for non-Spanish speakers,” Estrada explains. The food at Naco Mexican Eatery is anything but lowly. Even in the crowded taco mecca of San Antonio, this place stands out. Naco’s tacos are some of the best I’ve tasted so far this year.

A selection of Naco Mexican Eatery tacos.Photograph by José R. Ralat

I ordered four tacos. The huitlacoche taco was served on a yellow-flecked blue corn tortilla whose textures oscillated between creamy and chewy as it bore a thin splatter of a costra, or fried cheese. The funky, soft huitlacoche was almost completely concealed by a hearty shower of salty queso fresco. The salsa is a macha, but Martinez and Estrada call it chicharron de chiles, an oil-based line of salsa packed with serrano, silvers of garlic, and dried chiles that turn the mixture a mahogany hue. (Jars are available for sale at the trailer.) This rolling series of flavors and textures came together in an exciting bite. 

Full-sized costras, which swap the tortilla for a shell of griddled cheese, are also on offer. Invented in Mexico City’s nightclub scene in the early aughts, costras were originally intended to soak up booze-fueled street shenanigans after the discotheques let out. But at Naco and many contemporary taco operations, their popularity arose after customers requested tacos without the tortillas. “Keto is so big!” Martinez says. That’s why Naco lists its costras under a special keto taco section on the menu. They’re a customizable lot, and the best is the chicharron en salsa verde. The pork is crunchy, coated in a green salsa, and pepped up with narrow arcs of sliced red onions. Although the exterior of my costra looked charred, nothing tasted ashy or burned. Perhaps the char was offset by the interior’s gooeyness. Parts of the queso Chihuahua used for the costra adhered to the twists of chicharron, creating cheesy cables between filling and shell. Eating the costra (or keto taco) was exhilarating. Huitlacoche and squash blossoms, which are in season now, are popular fillings at Naco, whether you choose a costra or a traditional taco.

The three other tacos I ate will be familiar to Texans. Shredded, moist brisket and scrambled eggs rested in a large blue corn tortilla that makes for a satisfying, hearty breakfast taco on the go. The spinach, egg, and avocado trio in a flaky, buttery flour tortilla was light, with crisp baby greens sprinkled atop fluffy scrambled eggs. The avocado wedges were whimsically and haphazardly plopped on top. Also served in a flour tortilla was the taco de chilaquiles with chorizo, with salsa roja–soaked chips covered by cascades of crumbled, red-stained pork sausage. The taco’s strength was its earthy flavors and textures. 

The one disappointment was the chilaquiles torta with chorizo. The roll wasn’t the typical bolillo or telera employed in the Mexican sandwich. Rather, the bread was ciabatta-like and overly chewy for my taste. But the chilaquiles with chorizo filling were as good as they were in the taco, the runny egg made for a bit of a pleasant mess, and the potato chips were a surprising side that made for a good palate reset. “People want chilaquiles on everything,” says Estrada. One supposedly keto customer went so far as to request a keto taco with chilaquiles. “That kills the whole keto thing,” Martinez notes.

The huitlacoche, costra, and salsa macha taco from Naco.Photograph by José R. Ralat

The Naco Mexican Eatery trailer shares a corner lot with Smoke Shack barbecue and Theory Coffee trailers, two San Antonio favorites. But for Estrada and Martinez, the spot seemed like the best location, even if they were nervous about the high bar set by the other vendors. “We were very afraid to start there because we knew there was a kind of quality that people were expecting here in the corner. But we were willing to give it a try,” Martinez says. At the beginning, for months straight, they were taking in about eight dollars a day. To pass the time, the couple would dance in front of the rig. Their fortunes began to change about nine months in, when the San Antonio Current named Naco a finalist in its 2019 list of the best food trucks in the city. (The alt-weekly newspaper later dubbed Naco the best food truck of 2020.) Customers soon started congratulating the owners, who were thrilled but confused: “I remember saying: ‘What magazine? What newspaper? What are you talking about?’” Martinez recalls.

Naco received third place in the contest, and the attendant boost in sales allowed the couple to hire someone to help. Martinez didn’t have to work two jobs anymore. Success was in sight, and aside from a four-week downturn early in the pandemic, business has been growing steadily. “We never closed, not even for one day,” Martinez says. What got them through the rough patch were the Hispanic laborers who paid in cash—Martinez credits these loyal fans with keeping the trailer afloat during the pandemic. Next came the food-curious. Now, Naco is a destination taco trailer, with a line of patrons from across the socioeconomic spectrum. “Tacos are democratic. It’s an amazing corner,” Estrada puts it plainly. During my visit, the line was long, but the wait—about twenty minutes—was worth it.

Sourcing, I was pleased to learn, is important to Naco’s owners. As much as Mexican food relies on the layering of subtle flavors and is deceptively simple, it’s difficult to hide subpar ingredients, large or small. “Even though it’s very simple and humble food, it should be done the best way, as close to perfection as possible,” Martinez says.

The corn for the tortillas comes from Tamoa, a Mexico-based purveyor of non-GMO, heirloom corn sourced from the excess harvest of family farmers. The corn is nixtamalized, ground, and formed into tortillas by Nancy Hernandez, who rents a space in Los Angeles Tortilleria on San Antonio’s West Side. The size and thickness of the tortillas are  customized according to Naco’s specifications. “We even brought her the templates for the tortilla sizes from Mexico,” says Martinez. At first, Estrada and Martinez could sell only twenty tortillas a week. Now Nancy’s provides up to five hundred yellow corn tortillas and four hundred blue corn tortillas per week.

It’s this emphasis on the details that makes the difference. “A great taco only needs a tortilla and salsa,” Estrada says. Despite this apparent simplicity, Martinez adds, “It’s very complicated to make it different when everyone also makes it. How can you make a bacon, egg, and cheese taco taste different? It’s in the small steps and the ingredients around us that make the difference. It’s only true love and quality of the products that can help. That’s the only thing we have.”

Naco Mexican Eatery 2347 Nacogdoches Road, San Antonio Phone: [phone] Hours: Monday–Friday 6:30 a.m. to 2 p.m., Saturday 8 a.m. to 12 p.m.

This post was published on this site.

I trust you found the article above of help or of interest. Similar content can be found on our main site here: easttxpointofsale.com Let me have your feedback in the comments section below. Let us know which subjects we should cover for you next.

#Point of Sale #harbortouch Lighthouse #harbortouch Pos #harbortouch Support #lightspeed Software #lightspeedhq #pos #toast Point Of Sale #toast Restaurant Pos #touchbistro Reviews #touchbistro Support

[afriendlypokealien]

News reports & important tips on POS & POS Equipment.

Francisco Estrada and his wife, Lizzeth Martinez, had successful careers in Mexico City. Estrada was a lawyer, and Martinez was an interior designer and chef. But threats of kidnapping—possibly connected to Estrada’s work as a federal attorney—led them to relocate to San Antonio nearly four years ago. For Martinez, the professional transition was smooth. She was born in Laredo, went to college in San Antonio, and quickly found work at a design firm in San Antonio. It was difficult for Estrada. His years of legal experience didn’t mean much in Texas, and the couple’s savings didn’t go far in the United States. “When you convert all those pesos into dollars, you realize it’s like twenty dollars,” Martinez says. While waiting for his residency status to be secured, Estrada began renovating their home and attempting to line up work. “He was fixing the house, playing housewife, and all that,” Martinez laughs. The story of Naco Mexico Eatery, Estrada and Martinez’s taco trailer, is one of both struggle and levity. 

Estrada told his wife that he’d do whatever was necessary to help bring in financial support, even if it meant selling tacos on a corner. That’s what he set out to do. The couple bought a trailer at an auction and refurbished it with their “bare hands, fingernails, and boogers. Uñas y mocos!” Martinez says, laughing again. In 2018, they opened Naco Mexican Eatery. The trailer’s name refers to its location along the old Nacogdoches Road, which follows one of the routes of the old El Camino Real de los Tejas, established in the eighteenth century by the Spanish for trade. “Naco” is also slang for lowlife, low class, or lowly. “Mexicans immediately recognize the word and know the business is Mexican-owned, while it’s short and catchy for non-Spanish speakers,” Estrada explains. The food at Naco Mexican Eatery is anything but lowly. Even in the crowded taco mecca of San Antonio, this place stands out. Naco’s tacos are some of the best I’ve tasted so far this year.

A selection of Naco Mexican Eatery tacos.Photograph by José R. Ralat

I ordered four tacos. The huitlacoche taco was served on a yellow-flecked blue corn tortilla whose textures oscillated between creamy and chewy as it bore a thin splatter of a costra, or fried cheese. The funky, soft huitlacoche was almost completely concealed by a hearty shower of salty queso fresco. The salsa is a macha, but Martinez and Estrada call it chicharron de chiles, an oil-based line of salsa packed with serrano, silvers of garlic, and dried chiles that turn the mixture a mahogany hue. (Jars are available for sale at the trailer.) This rolling series of flavors and textures came together in an exciting bite. 

Full-sized costras, which swap the tortilla for a shell of griddled cheese, are also on offer. Invented in Mexico City’s nightclub scene in the early aughts, costras were originally intended to soak up booze-fueled street shenanigans after the discotheques let out. But at Naco and many contemporary taco operations, their popularity arose after customers requested tacos without the tortillas. “Keto is so big!” Martinez says. That’s why Naco lists its costras under a special keto taco section on the menu. They’re a customizable lot, and the best is the chicharron en salsa verde. The pork is crunchy, coated in a green salsa, and pepped up with narrow arcs of sliced red onions. Although the exterior of my costra looked charred, nothing tasted ashy or burned. Perhaps the char was offset by the interior’s gooeyness. Parts of the queso Chihuahua used for the costra adhered to the twists of chicharron, creating cheesy cables between filling and shell. Eating the costra (or keto taco) was exhilarating. Huitlacoche and squash blossoms, which are in season now, are popular fillings at Naco, whether you choose a costra or a traditional taco.

The three other tacos I ate will be familiar to Texans. Shredded, moist brisket and scrambled eggs rested in a large blue corn tortilla that makes for a satisfying, hearty breakfast taco on the go. The spinach, egg, and avocado trio in a flaky, buttery flour tortilla was light, with crisp baby greens sprinkled atop fluffy scrambled eggs. The avocado wedges were whimsically and haphazardly plopped on top. Also served in a flour tortilla was the taco de chilaquiles with chorizo, with salsa roja–soaked chips covered by cascades of crumbled, red-stained pork sausage. The taco’s strength was its earthy flavors and textures. 

The one disappointment was the chilaquiles torta with chorizo. The roll wasn’t the typical bolillo or telera employed in the Mexican sandwich. Rather, the bread was ciabatta-like and overly chewy for my taste. But the chilaquiles with chorizo filling were as good as they were in the taco, the runny egg made for a bit of a pleasant mess, and the potato chips were a surprising side that made for a good palate reset. “People want chilaquiles on everything,” says Estrada. One supposedly keto customer went so far as to request a keto taco with chilaquiles. “That kills the whole keto thing,” Martinez notes.

The huitlacoche, costra, and salsa macha taco from Naco.Photograph by José R. Ralat

The Naco Mexican Eatery trailer shares a corner lot with Smoke Shack barbecue and Theory Coffee trailers, two San Antonio favorites. But for Estrada and Martinez, the spot seemed like the best location, even if they were nervous about the high bar set by the other vendors. “We were very afraid to start there because we knew there was a kind of quality that people were expecting here in the corner. But we were willing to give it a try,” Martinez says. At the beginning, for months straight, they were taking in about eight dollars a day. To pass the time, the couple would dance in front of the rig. Their fortunes began to change about nine months in, when the San Antonio Current named Naco a finalist in its 2019 list of the best food trucks in the city. (The alt-weekly newspaper later dubbed Naco the best food truck of 2020.) Customers soon started congratulating the owners, who were thrilled but confused: “I remember saying: ‘What magazine? What newspaper? What are you talking about?’” Martinez recalls.

Naco received third place in the contest, and the attendant boost in sales allowed the couple to hire someone to help. Martinez didn’t have to work two jobs anymore. Success was in sight, and aside from a four-week downturn early in the pandemic, business has been growing steadily. “We never closed, not even for one day,” Martinez says. What got them through the rough patch were the Hispanic laborers who paid in cash—Martinez credits these loyal fans with keeping the trailer afloat during the pandemic. Next came the food-curious. Now, Naco is a destination taco trailer, with a line of patrons from across the socioeconomic spectrum. “Tacos are democratic. It’s an amazing corner,” Estrada puts it plainly. During my visit, the line was long, but the wait—about twenty minutes—was worth it.

Sourcing, I was pleased to learn, is important to Naco’s owners. As much as Mexican food relies on the layering of subtle flavors and is deceptively simple, it’s difficult to hide subpar ingredients, large or small. “Even though it’s very simple and humble food, it should be done the best way, as close to perfection as possible,” Martinez says.

The corn for the tortillas comes from Tamoa, a Mexico-based purveyor of non-GMO, heirloom corn sourced from the excess harvest of family farmers. The corn is nixtamalized, ground, and formed into tortillas by Nancy Hernandez, who rents a space in Los Angeles Tortilleria on San Antonio’s West Side. The size and thickness of the tortillas are  customized according to Naco’s specifications. “We even brought her the templates for the tortilla sizes from Mexico,” says Martinez. At first, Estrada and Martinez could sell only twenty tortillas a week. Now Nancy’s provides up to five hundred yellow corn tortillas and four hundred blue corn tortillas per week.

It’s this emphasis on the details that makes the difference. “A great taco only needs a tortilla and salsa,” Estrada says. Despite this apparent simplicity, Martinez adds, “It’s very complicated to make it different when everyone also makes it. How can you make a bacon, egg, and cheese taco taste different? It’s in the small steps and the ingredients around us that make the difference. It’s only true love and quality of the products that can help. That’s the only thing we have.”

Naco Mexican Eatery 2347 Nacogdoches Road, San Antonio Phone: [phone] Hours: Monday–Friday 6:30 a.m. to 2 p.m., Saturday 8 a.m. to 12 p.m.

This post was published on this site.

I trust you found the article above of help or of interest. Similar content can be found on our main site here: easttxpointofsale.com Let me have your feedback in the comments section below. Let us know which subjects we should cover for you next.

#Point of Sale #harbortouch Lighthouse #harbortouch Pos #harbortouch Support #lightspeed Software #lightspeedhq #pos #toast Point Of Sale #toast Restaurant Pos #touchbistro Reviews #touchbistro Support

[anagamitofotografia]

News reports & important tips on POS & POS Equipment.

Francisco Estrada and his wife, Lizzeth Martinez, had successful careers in Mexico City. Estrada was a lawyer, and Martinez was an interior designer and chef. But threats of kidnapping—possibly connected to Estrada’s work as a federal attorney—led them to relocate to San Antonio nearly four years ago. For Martinez, the professional transition was smooth. She was born in Laredo, went to college in San Antonio, and quickly found work at a design firm in San Antonio. It was difficult for Estrada. His years of legal experience didn’t mean much in Texas, and the couple’s savings didn’t go far in the United States. “When you convert all those pesos into dollars, you realize it’s like twenty dollars,” Martinez says. While waiting for his residency status to be secured, Estrada began renovating their home and attempting to line up work. “He was fixing the house, playing housewife, and all that,” Martinez laughs. The story of Naco Mexico Eatery, Estrada and Martinez’s taco trailer, is one of both struggle and levity. 

Estrada told his wife that he’d do whatever was necessary to help bring in financial support, even if it meant selling tacos on a corner. That’s what he set out to do. The couple bought a trailer at an auction and refurbished it with their “bare hands, fingernails, and boogers. Uñas y mocos!” Martinez says, laughing again. In 2018, they opened Naco Mexican Eatery. The trailer’s name refers to its location along the old Nacogdoches Road, which follows one of the routes of the old El Camino Real de los Tejas, established in the eighteenth century by the Spanish for trade. “Naco” is also slang for lowlife, low class, or lowly. “Mexicans immediately recognize the word and know the business is Mexican-owned, while it’s short and catchy for non-Spanish speakers,” Estrada explains. The food at Naco Mexican Eatery is anything but lowly. Even in the crowded taco mecca of San Antonio, this place stands out. Naco’s tacos are some of the best I’ve tasted so far this year.

A selection of Naco Mexican Eatery tacos.Photograph by José R. Ralat

I ordered four tacos. The huitlacoche taco was served on a yellow-flecked blue corn tortilla whose textures oscillated between creamy and chewy as it bore a thin splatter of a costra, or fried cheese. The funky, soft huitlacoche was almost completely concealed by a hearty shower of salty queso fresco. The salsa is a macha, but Martinez and Estrada call it chicharron de chiles, an oil-based line of salsa packed with serrano, silvers of garlic, and dried chiles that turn the mixture a mahogany hue. (Jars are available for sale at the trailer.) This rolling series of flavors and textures came together in an exciting bite. 

Full-sized costras, which swap the tortilla for a shell of griddled cheese, are also on offer. Invented in Mexico City’s nightclub scene in the early aughts, costras were originally intended to soak up booze-fueled street shenanigans after the discotheques let out. But at Naco and many contemporary taco operations, their popularity arose after customers requested tacos without the tortillas. “Keto is so big!” Martinez says. That’s why Naco lists its costras under a special keto taco section on the menu. They’re a customizable lot, and the best is the chicharron en salsa verde. The pork is crunchy, coated in a green salsa, and pepped up with narrow arcs of sliced red onions. Although the exterior of my costra looked charred, nothing tasted ashy or burned. Perhaps the char was offset by the interior’s gooeyness. Parts of the queso Chihuahua used for the costra adhered to the twists of chicharron, creating cheesy cables between filling and shell. Eating the costra (or keto taco) was exhilarating. Huitlacoche and squash blossoms, which are in season now, are popular fillings at Naco, whether you choose a costra or a traditional taco.

The three other tacos I ate will be familiar to Texans. Shredded, moist brisket and scrambled eggs rested in a large blue corn tortilla that makes for a satisfying, hearty breakfast taco on the go. The spinach, egg, and avocado trio in a flaky, buttery flour tortilla was light, with crisp baby greens sprinkled atop fluffy scrambled eggs. The avocado wedges were whimsically and haphazardly plopped on top. Also served in a flour tortilla was the taco de chilaquiles with chorizo, with salsa roja–soaked chips covered by cascades of crumbled, red-stained pork sausage. The taco’s strength was its earthy flavors and textures. 

The one disappointment was the chilaquiles torta with chorizo. The roll wasn’t the typical bolillo or telera employed in the Mexican sandwich. Rather, the bread was ciabatta-like and overly chewy for my taste. But the chilaquiles with chorizo filling were as good as they were in the taco, the runny egg made for a bit of a pleasant mess, and the potato chips were a surprising side that made for a good palate reset. “People want chilaquiles on everything,” says Estrada. One supposedly keto customer went so far as to request a keto taco with chilaquiles. “That kills the whole keto thing,” Martinez notes.

The huitlacoche, costra, and salsa macha taco from Naco.Photograph by José R. Ralat

The Naco Mexican Eatery trailer shares a corner lot with Smoke Shack barbecue and Theory Coffee trailers, two San Antonio favorites. But for Estrada and Martinez, the spot seemed like the best location, even if they were nervous about the high bar set by the other vendors. “We were very afraid to start there because we knew there was a kind of quality that people were expecting here in the corner. But we were willing to give it a try,” Martinez says. At the beginning, for months straight, they were taking in about eight dollars a day. To pass the time, the couple would dance in front of the rig. Their fortunes began to change about nine months in, when the San Antonio Current named Naco a finalist in its 2019 list of the best food trucks in the city. (The alt-weekly newspaper later dubbed Naco the best food truck of 2020.) Customers soon started congratulating the owners, who were thrilled but confused: “I remember saying: ‘What magazine? What newspaper? What are you talking about?’” Martinez recalls.

Naco received third place in the contest, and the attendant boost in sales allowed the couple to hire someone to help. Martinez didn’t have to work two jobs anymore. Success was in sight, and aside from a four-week downturn early in the pandemic, business has been growing steadily. “We never closed, not even for one day,” Martinez says. What got them through the rough patch were the Hispanic laborers who paid in cash—Martinez credits these loyal fans with keeping the trailer afloat during the pandemic. Next came the food-curious. Now, Naco is a destination taco trailer, with a line of patrons from across the socioeconomic spectrum. “Tacos are democratic. It’s an amazing corner,” Estrada puts it plainly. During my visit, the line was long, but the wait—about twenty minutes—was worth it.

Sourcing, I was pleased to learn, is important to Naco’s owners. As much as Mexican food relies on the layering of subtle flavors and is deceptively simple, it’s difficult to hide subpar ingredients, large or small. “Even though it’s very simple and humble food, it should be done the best way, as close to perfection as possible,” Martinez says.

The corn for the tortillas comes from Tamoa, a Mexico-based purveyor of non-GMO, heirloom corn sourced from the excess harvest of family farmers. The corn is nixtamalized, ground, and formed into tortillas by Nancy Hernandez, who rents a space in Los Angeles Tortilleria on San Antonio’s West Side. The size and thickness of the tortillas are  customized according to Naco’s specifications. “We even brought her the templates for the tortilla sizes from Mexico,” says Martinez. At first, Estrada and Martinez could sell only twenty tortillas a week. Now Nancy’s provides up to five hundred yellow corn tortillas and four hundred blue corn tortillas per week.

It’s this emphasis on the details that makes the difference. “A great taco only needs a tortilla and salsa,” Estrada says. Despite this apparent simplicity, Martinez adds, “It’s very complicated to make it different when everyone also makes it. How can you make a bacon, egg, and cheese taco taste different? It’s in the small steps and the ingredients around us that make the difference. It’s only true love and quality of the products that can help. That’s the only thing we have.”

Naco Mexican Eatery 2347 Nacogdoches Road, San Antonio Phone: [phone] Hours: Monday–Friday 6:30 a.m. to 2 p.m., Saturday 8 a.m. to 12 p.m.

This post was published on this site.

I trust you found the article above of help or of interest. Similar content can be found on our main site here: easttxpointofsale.com Let me have your feedback in the comments section below. Let us know which subjects we should cover for you next.

#Point of Sale #harbortouch Lighthouse #harbortouch Pos #harbortouch Support #lightspeed Software #lightspeedhq #pos #toast Point Of Sale #toast Restaurant Pos #touchbistro Reviews #touchbistro Support

[afrolatinxsunited]

News reports & important tips on POS & POS Equipment.

Francisco Estrada and his wife, Lizzeth Martinez, had successful careers in Mexico City. Estrada was a lawyer, and Martinez was an interior designer and chef. But threats of kidnapping—possibly connected to Estrada’s work as a federal attorney—led them to relocate to San Antonio nearly four years ago. For Martinez, the professional transition was smooth. She was born in Laredo, went to college in San Antonio, and quickly found work at a design firm in San Antonio. It was difficult for Estrada. His years of legal experience didn’t mean much in Texas, and the couple’s savings didn’t go far in the United States. “When you convert all those pesos into dollars, you realize it’s like twenty dollars,” Martinez says. While waiting for his residency status to be secured, Estrada began renovating their home and attempting to line up work. “He was fixing the house, playing housewife, and all that,” Martinez laughs. The story of Naco Mexico Eatery, Estrada and Martinez’s taco trailer, is one of both struggle and levity. 

Estrada told his wife that he’d do whatever was necessary to help bring in financial support, even if it meant selling tacos on a corner. That’s what he set out to do. The couple bought a trailer at an auction and refurbished it with their “bare hands, fingernails, and boogers. Uñas y mocos!” Martinez says, laughing again. In 2018, they opened Naco Mexican Eatery. The trailer’s name refers to its location along the old Nacogdoches Road, which follows one of the routes of the old El Camino Real de los Tejas, established in the eighteenth century by the Spanish for trade. “Naco” is also slang for lowlife, low class, or lowly. “Mexicans immediately recognize the word and know the business is Mexican-owned, while it’s short and catchy for non-Spanish speakers,” Estrada explains. The food at Naco Mexican Eatery is anything but lowly. Even in the crowded taco mecca of San Antonio, this place stands out. Naco’s tacos are some of the best I’ve tasted so far this year.

A selection of Naco Mexican Eatery tacos.Photograph by José R. Ralat

I ordered four tacos. The huitlacoche taco was served on a yellow-flecked blue corn tortilla whose textures oscillated between creamy and chewy as it bore a thin splatter of a costra, or fried cheese. The funky, soft huitlacoche was almost completely concealed by a hearty shower of salty queso fresco. The salsa is a macha, but Martinez and Estrada call it chicharron de chiles, an oil-based line of salsa packed with serrano, silvers of garlic, and dried chiles that turn the mixture a mahogany hue. (Jars are available for sale at the trailer.) This rolling series of flavors and textures came together in an exciting bite. 

Full-sized costras, which swap the tortilla for a shell of griddled cheese, are also on offer. Invented in Mexico City’s nightclub scene in the early aughts, costras were originally intended to soak up booze-fueled street shenanigans after the discotheques let out. But at Naco and many contemporary taco operations, their popularity arose after customers requested tacos without the tortillas. “Keto is so big!” Martinez says. That’s why Naco lists its costras under a special keto taco section on the menu. They’re a customizable lot, and the best is the chicharron en salsa verde. The pork is crunchy, coated in a green salsa, and pepped up with narrow arcs of sliced red onions. Although the exterior of my costra looked charred, nothing tasted ashy or burned. Perhaps the char was offset by the interior’s gooeyness. Parts of the queso Chihuahua used for the costra adhered to the twists of chicharron, creating cheesy cables between filling and shell. Eating the costra (or keto taco) was exhilarating. Huitlacoche and squash blossoms, which are in season now, are popular fillings at Naco, whether you choose a costra or a traditional taco.

The three other tacos I ate will be familiar to Texans. Shredded, moist brisket and scrambled eggs rested in a large blue corn tortilla that makes for a satisfying, hearty breakfast taco on the go. The spinach, egg, and avocado trio in a flaky, buttery flour tortilla was light, with crisp baby greens sprinkled atop fluffy scrambled eggs. The avocado wedges were whimsically and haphazardly plopped on top. Also served in a flour tortilla was the taco de chilaquiles with chorizo, with salsa roja–soaked chips covered by cascades of crumbled, red-stained pork sausage. The taco’s strength was its earthy flavors and textures. 

The one disappointment was the chilaquiles torta with chorizo. The roll wasn’t the typical bolillo or telera employed in the Mexican sandwich. Rather, the bread was ciabatta-like and overly chewy for my taste. But the chilaquiles with chorizo filling were as good as they were in the taco, the runny egg made for a bit of a pleasant mess, and the potato chips were a surprising side that made for a good palate reset. “People want chilaquiles on everything,” says Estrada. One supposedly keto customer went so far as to request a keto taco with chilaquiles. “That kills the whole keto thing,” Martinez notes.

The huitlacoche, costra, and salsa macha taco from Naco.Photograph by José R. Ralat

The Naco Mexican Eatery trailer shares a corner lot with Smoke Shack barbecue and Theory Coffee trailers, two San Antonio favorites. But for Estrada and Martinez, the spot seemed like the best location, even if they were nervous about the high bar set by the other vendors. “We were very afraid to start there because we knew there was a kind of quality that people were expecting here in the corner. But we were willing to give it a try,” Martinez says. At the beginning, for months straight, they were taking in about eight dollars a day. To pass the time, the couple would dance in front of the rig. Their fortunes began to change about nine months in, when the San Antonio Current named Naco a finalist in its 2019 list of the best food trucks in the city. (The alt-weekly newspaper later dubbed Naco the best food truck of 2020.) Customers soon started congratulating the owners, who were thrilled but confused: “I remember saying: ‘What magazine? What newspaper? What are you talking about?’” Martinez recalls.

Naco received third place in the contest, and the attendant boost in sales allowed the couple to hire someone to help. Martinez didn’t have to work two jobs anymore. Success was in sight, and aside from a four-week downturn early in the pandemic, business has been growing steadily. “We never closed, not even for one day,” Martinez says. What got them through the rough patch were the Hispanic laborers who paid in cash—Martinez credits these loyal fans with keeping the trailer afloat during the pandemic. Next came the food-curious. Now, Naco is a destination taco trailer, with a line of patrons from across the socioeconomic spectrum. “Tacos are democratic. It’s an amazing corner,” Estrada puts it plainly. During my visit, the line was long, but the wait—about twenty minutes—was worth it.

Sourcing, I was pleased to learn, is important to Naco’s owners. As much as Mexican food relies on the layering of subtle flavors and is deceptively simple, it’s difficult to hide subpar ingredients, large or small. “Even though it’s very simple and humble food, it should be done the best way, as close to perfection as possible,” Martinez says.

The corn for the tortillas comes from Tamoa, a Mexico-based purveyor of non-GMO, heirloom corn sourced from the excess harvest of family farmers. The corn is nixtamalized, ground, and formed into tortillas by Nancy Hernandez, who rents a space in Los Angeles Tortilleria on San Antonio’s West Side. The size and thickness of the tortillas are  customized according to Naco’s specifications. “We even brought her the templates for the tortilla sizes from Mexico,” says Martinez. At first, Estrada and Martinez could sell only twenty tortillas a week. Now Nancy’s provides up to five hundred yellow corn tortillas and four hundred blue corn tortillas per week.

It’s this emphasis on the details that makes the difference. “A great taco only needs a tortilla and salsa,” Estrada says. Despite this apparent simplicity, Martinez adds, “It’s very complicated to make it different when everyone also makes it. How can you make a bacon, egg, and cheese taco taste different? It’s in the small steps and the ingredients around us that make the difference. It’s only true love and quality of the products that can help. That’s the only thing we have.”

Naco Mexican Eatery 2347 Nacogdoches Road, San Antonio Phone: [phone] Hours: Monday–Friday 6:30 a.m. to 2 p.m., Saturday 8 a.m. to 12 p.m.

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[stone-man-warrior]

November 15, 2018: 5:35 pm:

November 15, 2018: 5:56 pm:<br><br>Dead Mother-Fuckers at the Grants Pass Wal... StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-11-15 18:35:58-0800 - Updated: 2018-11-15 18:35:58-0800

November 15, 2018: 5:56 pm: Dead Mother-Fuckers at the Grants Pass Wal-Mart just a half hour ago. Terrorist soldiers died at the Wal-Mart when their Nitrous Oxide/Versed airborne gas tanks were ignited. They launched in the suspended ceiling and disappeared in there at the checkout and came out by the Pharmacy area. One of the dead terrorists was a General who plays the role of store manager. All of the checkers that work the check-stands have the rank of Lieutenant, and all of the shoppers at the Wal-Mart in Dystopian Socio-terrific Grants Pass Oregon are soldiers, I don't know what there ranks are, but they are lower in rank than Lieutenant. I think the impostor shoppers use the rank of "Fogger", there primary job is to follow American shoppers around the store, communicate to other Foggers the location of American Citizens who came into the store to shop, and to "fog" the isles where the American Victims are shopping inside the store. There are also "Exterminators" who attack the vistins with a needle filled with euthanisation drug from the "Pet IQ" store that was put into the Wal-Mart this past summer. There are "Cart Drivers" and "Finishers". The cart drivers usually wear yellow Wal-Mart vests, and the "Finishers are dressed in regular street clothes for quick exit and blending into the crowd. I think that those titles are actually used as military rank among these unconventional army soldiers. The General who launched into the ceiling was a female, about sixty yers old, long grey hair, and very petite. She was also fogging at the check-stand to "ripen" me for the kill. Fight terrorism with a Bic Lighter! All you have to do is bring a lighter, and use it periodically as you shop in each isle of the store. When you encounter a group of people huddled closely together, light the lighter and go the opposite direction. The foggers group themselves up together in the isle where the American Victims are, they release Nitrous gas as a group, while pretending to be friends who happened to meet inside the store and engage in conversion among themselves while pretending to be friends with one another..It ids not difficult to know that the conversations are phony. If you listen to these kinds of conversations, it is not difficult to figure out that the people are actually talking about where inside the store that they are at, and that they "Got One!". "Got One" is an announcement made over the electronic communication that these terrorists use among themselves while killing American Citizens inside the store. LIGHT THEM UP! Other terrorists also launched inside the store, and the entire army of terrorists there are extremely mad at me personally. I have killed more terrorists there than I am willing to say, and if I did, no one would believe the number anyway. The number I use is 5. The Fifth amendment to the Constitution of the USA is designed as a means to protect Americans who have to protect against conditions of war, at a time when the nations leaders are not aware of the war yet, or, are not addressing the fact that warfare is happening. 5th! At the checkstand, number thirteen I think today, the checkout Lieutenant had been informed of some information and then questioned me about it. She asked me, or told me in a question form "You killed Lorena?". Someone else said "Chapman is dead, he ran her through". I lit my lighter repeatedly after that. and said "If Lorena Chapman is dead, than the people of the entire world are far safer now, you have no idea!". So, today before I went to the store for food, there was an intruder inside my home. The intruder was dressed in a disguise and the disguise was a ball. A terrorist wearing a bright blue costume that appeared as a ball, a big, giant size ball. I don't remember fighting the terrorist, I only remember seeing the giant ball. Also today, the terrorist at 445 "MyStreet" by the name of Steve Bell, assaciated with the US Postal Service and also with a cell at Arby's restaurant, clearly has been replaced with a look alike terrorist who was at the home of Steve Bell today with a small child, presumably a kidnapped child, with red hair. They specialize in kidnapped red headed girls between the age of five and eight years old at the Steve Bell Terrorist cell at 445. The replacement Steve is a man who works in the electronics department at the Fred Meyer Department store. All of this happened. These reports on this page going back four years or more are all true. There is no way to get help. These reports are here as a means to try to get some help. No one will help. Please call the US Department of Defense and direct them to this page. It's important.

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+1'd by: Gannon Mahaffay

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-11-15 20:14:37-0800

November 15, 2018: 7:55 pm: There is a realty that needs to be understood by those who would do National Security work. It's a realty that has been covered or otherwise hidden in such a way as to make fools out of those who do National Security work. It is not my intention to make any one feel foolish, however, those who do National Security work have been fooled on a scale that is so large, it cannot be seen. Like standing on a spec of dust in the Himalayas while looking for Mount Everest, the reality is too large to see. National Security people need to understand the enormity of what has happened while they were being fooled. The people responsible for making fools of National Security persons are easy to find. Almost everyone on Earth can see them everyday. Even if we do not want to see them, they are there, right in front of our faces, entertaining us as they take the entire USA, and in fact, the entire planet Earth and all of it;s people. Reality: It is that big. It is that blatant. It is standing, sitting, singing, laughing, telling jokes, doing News broadcasts, playing musical instruments and lulling everyone into a trance of entertained bliss as they torture the children of the world. My children. Your children. The Screen Actors Guild. That is the reality. The enormity is different. The enormity is the result of nearly fifty years of being fooled. The reality and enormity is such that the entire state of California, Oregon, Arizona, Montana, Wyoming, Nevada, New Mexico... and more... all of that, and I mean all of the people who once lived in those states... they have all been killed and replaced with impostors. Until National Security people are willing to arrive in reality, stay there, and stop being fooled, the USA is doomed to fail. The time is approaching quickly. We have until January 2020, after that, no more USA, and whats worse, no more Freedom. In the absence of Freedom, there will be captivity. The terrorists are the Screen Actor Guild in all of the ways teh Screen Actor Guild exists. From the actors, entertainers and musicians, all the way to the engineers who do the sound and video magic, to the set designers, make-up people, and the most dangerous of them all are the screen writers. Even the people who sweep the floor after the rock concert and those who go get the coffee for the cast and crew... everyone of them are Screen Actor Guild and they have been making fools of National Security people for five decades. The people can be all found in two locations. The Rolodex of Jay Leno, and the Rolodex of David Letterman. That is how you can find them, and you don't not need the physical Rolodex, you just have to think about it.

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-11-15 20:55:01-0800

November 15, 2018: 8:30 pm: True story: 1997. I received a phone call. A family member had died. I was told there was a service, and the location of the service was provided. I had to drive a long way, through three states to get there. I took my daughter along with me. Upon reaching the bottom of the Tehachapi mountains of Highway 58 near Edwards Air Force base in the California Desert, I stopped for fuel and to rest after a long driving session. It was dawn. The gas station attendant was terrified. He asked me from where I had come from. I told him. He told me a bunch if things that I did not comprehend. The man was truly terrified and trying to explain things to me. There is a railroad track there by that gas station at the bottom of highway 58, it runs along the base of those mountains there and includes the area of Valencia, Palmdale, and Saugas along it's path. A train was coming by while this man was trying desperately to get me to understand something that I could not understand. He was speaking English clearly, I could understand his words, not the idea he was conveying. The urgency was clear to me. The train approached. The man at that gas station told me ti go look at the train as it went by. It was right there across the street and within walking distance so I did what he asked of me. I went over there. The train went by, and it was a freight train with endless cars that can hold aggregate material. The freight train with endless aggregate cars was filled with people. They were screaming, moaning yelling... names, numbers, places, Valencia! I heard. Saugus! I heard. and names. Phone Numbers and cries for help were coming from that train. There were others in off road vehicles with spotlights. It was just getting daylight at the time. The ones with the vehicles were riding alongside of the train. There was another vehicle on the train tracks, a small utility railcar like a dump truck on the train track. That extra railcar was stopping along the way, the men were picking up the people that had fallen out of the train with the aggregate cars. I understood. I went back to my car at the gas station and my daughter was gone. I looked for her everywhere around there and heard her yell for me. She was inside of a big rig truck and the truck was leaving. I got my daughter back from that truck. We continued on our way to the funeral service for my deceased family member. On the way back, we had to go the same way we came. It was weird. I stopped at a rest stop at the bottom of highway 58 to stretch out and use a restroom. As i began to walk towards the restroom, two cars went near mine. My Daughter was sleeping in there. I went back car and those people left. I tried to walk towards the restroom again, and those people approached my car again. I did not use the restroom facilities and chose to just do things without the restroom. We got back onto the highway and those people were right behind us. They tried to make me crash. I made them crash instead. In 1997, it was very difficult to get from one state to another without being killed.