#it was a labor of hate getting my game to cooperate with me today and then to make the set around her that isnt even visible afasfdhkla

[citrlet]

fleur, the world's tiniest lute player for @buttertrait's simblr adventuring guild~

she probably made her lute out of an acorn or something

#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #simblr adventuring guild #idek what to tag things as anymore #for once i made an edit post im happy about #it was a labor of hate getting my game to cooperate with me today and then to make the set around her that isnt even visible afasfdhkla #i wanted her to be waaayy tinier so pretend shes like 5 inches tall #now that this is done i feel like i can actually play now ;u;

[ranposlittle]

darling,I don’t want to be kinda annoying,but I just love him👉🏻👈🏻could you please do a nsfw scenario with mori where he punishes his gf for misbehaving (please include spanking omg)love you!!

!! NSFW !!

Warnings: Spanking, Orgasm denial

A/N: No no~ you’re never annoying! (⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝) keep sending in any requests you have, it keeps me busy in this quarantine. Also, I hope you don’t mind that this is a Fem!Reader. It’s just for convenience. This one is based on this song and I hope you enjoy this! Thank youuu! ♥️ ((Sorry again for the delayyy))

***

You’ve figured it out. No matter how funny it may sound, Mori likes brats. He has expressed many times how much he loves you as his partner, however, you cannot swallow down your bitter jealousy anymore when he’s clearly spending every day paying more attention to his personified ability, Elise, than to you. He would coax her and please her, making her try all the dresses he just bought for her, and only calling you when he needs a warm bed. You cannot tolerate it anymore.

You wanted to be as good as possible to him but apparently, that’s not his type. So you thought, you’ll play the game he wants and he’ll bend over backwards for you too in no time. It’ll be fine, you thought, you’ll just misbehave a little, tell bits of lies here and there, you’ll just be bad enough that Mori will chase after you, like he does with Elise.

However, it’s been a week of your antics now and you’re thoroughly enjoying yourself. You’ve spent your days jumping up and down the bed with the radio on full blast while you sing along at the top of your lungs even if you’re well aware that Mori has company, leaving your bed messy and your clothes all over the floor, getting out of the bathroom while soaking wet despite the new luxurious carpet he just ordered; you behaved with no inhibitions, even telling Mori to get lost when he tells you off. Frankly, you didn’t thought that you’d actually like this, thinking to yourself that maybe you’ll just be like this every day from now on.

Tonight, Mori and his executives are meeting some important people for lunch in a high-end restaurant and he wanted you to come along. He insisted to dress you up, for the first time in a long time, because he bought a new dress for you. You let him, smirking to yourself as you enjoy the fruits of your labor.

“Princess,” Mori called and you rolled your eyes with that weird nickname he gave you, “I want you to behave properly today, okay?”

You puffed your cheeks, mumbling to yourself how he didn’t have to tell you what to do. You feigned obedience, telling him that you won’t do anything ridiculous before sticking your tongue out at him once he turned his back. And here you are now, in the middle of lunch, bored out of your mind as you play with the indistinguishable mush on your plate.

“Please don’t play with your food, princess,” Mori asked humbly.

“But it looks so disgusting! Do you really expect me to eat this trash?” Your fork clanged as you threw it on your plate and the people around the table started to whisper. Mori looked around and gave them an apologetic smile.

“C'mon, princess. This is not the time for your games,” Mori leaned closer and held one of your shoulders.

“This is boring! I want to go home, now!” You gave Mori a deadly glare and your stare didn’t falter even if his eyes narrowed and his jaws clenched.

“You’re making a fool out of me. Behave,” he lowered his voice into almost a whisper, “or I’ll punish you.”

Your venomous stares lingered on for a few seconds as Mori waits for an answer from you, his sharp eyes silently demanding immediate obedience.

“No,” you retorted in his face, “I won’t.”

Mori studied you for a few seconds before standing up. He addressed the people on the table, saying that he’ll have to delegate down the authority for all of today’s businesses to one of his executives as his partner is ill and must be taken home promptly. He bid them a formal goodbye and practically dragged you out of the restaurant by your arm before you can even fight back. He pushed you inside the car waiting outside before getting in himself, ordering the chauffeur to drive back home as fast as he can.

Once back home, he hauled you inside the bedroom, ignoring your protests, and threw you on the bed. He slumped on the chair across the room and drew a heavy sigh. You can clearly see how worked up he is as he pushed back a chunk of hair that fell on his face from the commotion.

“You’ve been acting like a total brat lately, haven’t you?” Mori exhaled, his dark eyes being illuminated by the noon sun. You reciprocated with a proud look on your face to show that you’re not intimidated, not in the slightest.

“Come here,” he commanded. You didn’t move an inch from where you are and continue to have a staring contest with Mori. His eyes grew even darker as he deliver a threat, “I won’t ask you again.”

You flinched for some reason, but you deny that it’s because of fear. You slowly stood up from the bed and made your way to him. You stopped a foot away from him and he pulled you by the wrists, spun you around and swiftly sliding off his crimson scarf from his neck to tie your hands together behind you.

“W-what are you doing? Have you gone crazy?” You struggle from the fabric but it’s already been tightly secured.

“No, but you clearly have,” Mori then grabbed you by your restraints and bend you over his lap, your belly pressing hard against his thighs.

“You were crazy enough to disrespect me and think I’ll just keep letting it slide just because I was busy these past few days,” he flicked your dress upwards, exposing your bum and nearly ripped your panties off. “No, you deserve to be punished.”

He held you firmly in place by the knot on your wrists and just watched you as you flail on your position, screaming curses at him. Anger swell up inside of you until it bursted out of your mouth without a thought.

“I hate you! I HATE YOU!”

Mori raised his hand and—SMACK!—your screamed echoed throughout the whole room accompanied by the ringing of the slap that landed harshly on your rear. The sting danced around your skin as tears prickled at the corner of your eyes. You shot an aggressive look back at Mori who’s gazing at you as well with a devilish smile on his face.

“Aw, did that hurt, brat?” Mori teased as he smoothed his palm on your reddened ass, tickling the sensitive skin.

Before you can even talk back, he landed another powerful spank and your body rocked forward with the impact. You pressed your lips together to muffle another cry but when Mori delivered another smack that landed a little lower, the vibrations reaching your pussy, you mewled loudly and whined at the unwanted twitching of your pussy. You can’t possibly be aroused with this.

“You’re secretly enjoying this, aren’t you?” Mori stated, rubbing his palm on your ass once again, groping them at times. “You want me to remind you who you belong to and who’s in charge here. You challenged me until I had no choice but to punish you, is that right?”

Your mind raced. This isn’t exactly what you expected to happen but you did want to have his attention and now you got it, does that make him right?

“You know I’m right,” he said as if reading your mind. “But don’t worry. It’ll be my absolute pleasure to remind you. I think I already gave you three spanks now but we both know that’s not enough. Why don’t you be a doll and count the next spanks I’ll give you, hmm?”

Before you can think of any snark comeback, you shrieked as a sharp slap hit you once more and you’re not quite sure if it was a sweat or a tear that ran down your face just now.

“I didn’t hear a count, let’s try that again,” Mori gave you another in a flash and your whole body quaked from the shock. You didn’t thought that Mori’s spanks can be anymore powerful but it just did.

“AH! F-our…” You cried out. Your mind seemingly came up with the quick decision that the best course of action right now is just to cooperate.

“There you go,” Mori praised in a singsong voice. “Now count louder this time.”

“Five!” You shouted as soon as you felt the whack on your butt, the growing neediness in your core making itself more present and your legs rubbed together unconsciously.

“Looks like a brat is getting excited,” Mori remarked before getting into position for the next blow.

“Six!” You strained out after a whimper. The hit landed once again near your pussy, sending shivers up your spine.

“Seven– ha– ah– eight! Ahn! N-ni-ne!” You stuttered as Mori spanked you in a quick succession, the burning sting in your ass topping over the other.

“G-God! Ten!” You groaned. Mori’s palm slammed into your ass one last time, your whole body vibrated from his bruising force. His hits almost sounded like a whip and you can still hear its ringing in your ears.

You hanged your head limply as you feel the throbbing ache in your muscles. Whimpering every now and then whenever the prickling sensation crawling on your skin get stronger.

“You took them all like a champion. That’s impressive,” Mori said with a pleased smile. “But that’s just half of your punishment. We both know that a good little brat like you deserves so much more.”

Mori manhandled you like a sack of potatoes to have you sit on his lap. Your sore ass pressed on his leg and you yelped from the pain. Mori grabbed the sides of your face, making you look directly at his eyes. His gaze locked in yours, and you can’t look away as his other hand slithered in between your legs and a finger ran down your slit.

“No,” you moaned, not wanting Mori to see how your overly sensitive and wet pussy quiver with the slightest touch. “Not there.”

“Not here? But I own this, remember? I can use it however I want,” Mori growled in your ear.

The fabric around your wrists tightened as you ball your fists, trying not to crumble completely as Mori started to slowly draw circles on your clit. Your legs immediately shaking from the pleasure.

“Tell me, brat, who do you belong to?” Mori purred in your ear. “Look me in the eyes and tell me.”

You gasped as the motion of his fingers raced, your nerves seemingly being shook awake. You threw your head back and fixed your begging eyes on his hungry ones. He closely observed your flustered face, your lidded eyes, your sweaty cheeks, down to your parted lips as they move to whisper the answer he craved to hear.

“You, Mori-san,” you breathed out. “I belong to you.”

Mori’s lips pulled into a menacingly satisfied smile, plunging a slender finger inside your hole. You gasped and tensed on his lap, his finger quickly wriggling around your walls.

“That’s it,” Mori said in a quiet voice, his breath tickling your ears. “Say it again. Say it louder. Who owns this pretty little brat, hmm?”

“Mori-san!” You cried as another finger joined to wriggle inside you, stretching your opening. “I belong to Mori-san. This brat belongs to Mori-san.”

With tears in the rim of your eyes, you kept your focus on him, afraid that he’ll stop if you look somewhere else. Your whole body, seemingly being shot with pulses of electricity when Mori curl his fingers upwards, stiffened and you were made aware again of the ache in your ass every time you squirm. You cried out Mori’s name louder as pain and pleasure mixed in harmony, futher upping your bliss. You feel it coming. Your eyes rolling back as you render speechless, being able to only moan and cry Mori’s name as he finger-fucks you into ecstasy. He’s whispering soft assurances in your ear, letting you know how pleased he is with your submission to him, your stubbornness dissipating the moment he spanked you and how amazed he is that no matter how bratty you act, you’ll immediately surrender once he touch your pussy because all you really want is for him to fuck you. After all, you’re his dirty girl. Mori’s vulgar coaxing pushed you further into the edge and you plead for him to let you come.

“Aww, my brat wants to come, huh? Well,” his fingers halted, to your horror. “That’s just too bad.”

You panicked, just a little bit more and you’ll reach heaven, so you bucked your hips into his hand for more friction but without much success and to make things even worse, Mori just started to pull his fingers out and you can hear the squelch from your juices.

“Sorry, princess. That’s part of your punishment,” Mori said innocently. You whimper as your neediness for release became painful to bear. You wanted to cry right then and there, beg Mori to let you come even just once and you’ll be the bestest girl for him. Mori kissed your forehead and started to undo his scarf on your wrists.

“Mori-san, please,” you pleaded as your core continues to throb. Mori can see the pain in your eyes and he knows you’ll be willing to do almost anything right now for him to finish the job.

“Alright then, tell me,” he smiled at you warmly, a noticeable difference from his demeanor earlier. “Did you really mean it?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I belong to you, Mori-san. I’m your brat, okay? I surrender,” You said playfully putting your hands up in the air.

“No,” Mori chuckled and hugged your back, your eyes widened with his sudden affection. “I mean when you said that you hate me, do you mean it?”

Your eyes lowered, immediately feeling the guilt from the way you were treating him all this time. Maybe you’ve gone way out of line with that one. You love him, after all, and that still hasn’t changed.

“No,” you muttered. “I was just angry. I don’t really hate you.”

“And what did I do to anger my princess now, hmm?” Mori mused, feeling slightly better. You’re the last person he would ever want to hate him and he doesn’t want that day to ever come.

You debated with yourself whether to tell him but feeling Mori’s sincerity, you’ve decided it’ll be just fair, “I was jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what?”

You pouted, now feeling slightly embarrass with your reasons, “Elise.”

“Elise?” Mori adjusted you to face him, genuinely curious about your sentiment. “Why are you jealous of her? We’ve already talked about this, right? You’re different from her.”

“I know. I know. It’s just,” you retorted and averted your eyes. “You spend all your time with her every day and I thought that maybe, if I’ll just be like her then you’ll spend more time with me, too.”

Mori took a few seconds to fully grasp what you just said before laughing heartily. Your frown deepened. You just pour your heart out and here he is, laughing his ass off. You were about to tell him off when he suddenly cupped your face and kiss you. Your lips melted on each other as you wrap your arms around him.

“I’m sorry,” Mori expressed when he pulled back from your lips, “I should’ve known that you felt that way and I shouldn’t have allowed it. I should’ve made you feel special, because you are. And I shouldn’t make you forget it. I’m sorry, my princess.”

Your heart skipped. All of your anger and frustration evaporated from your chest with Mori’s sweet honesty. You cannot keep acting like you’re heartless when he’s this vulnerable. You buried your face on his chest, hiding the drop of tears running down your face. Mori stroked your hair and held you closely by his chest for a few minutes.

“Although, I kinda liked punishing you. You look so cute being bratty,” Mori cooed, squeezing you tighter.

He really knows how to ruin a mood. You pouted and pushed him back, “Well, you’re in luck because I’m not done messing with you just yet.”

Mori’s eyes glimmered in excitement, a smirk formed on his lips once again. “Then, I guess I have no choice but to fuck you into submission, huh?”

You both know this is just the beginning of your newfound game. As a matter of fact, you already have something planned. You’ve always wondered how Mori would feel if you scatter Legos all over the office for him to step on and you’re just thrilled to find out.

“I’d like to see you try,” You smirked back as Mori carried you to bed.

#ougai mori #mori ougai #bsd mori #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs scenarios #bungou stray dogs imagine #bungou stray dogs imagines #bsd scenarios #bsd headcanons #bsd hcs #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #mori ougai x reader #ougai mori x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #morimw

[james-stark-the-writer-wips]

A Year At The Opera - Excerpt

Chapter 12, Part 4: Joe

Word Count: 1700 words.

Sorry it's late, but the next ones are coming soon. I'm just editing some stuff. Hope you don't mind.

*

Joe turned into Rosewood Lane late afternoon. Saturday night had been rough and he may have had a little (about an entire bottle more than he should have been) too much to drink and he had spent all Sunday sleeping it off. But, it was a new week today. He’d sobered up and he couldn’t wait to get back to work and forget all about saturday night.

He stopped before the iron gate. Two guards stood on either side, armed with guns, looking at Joe in his car.

Rosewood Lane: the suburbia away from the suburbia, a paradise for the uber rich with around the clock security and state of the art surveillance. Every resident was guaranteed their privacy and safety. Joe could barely stomach the thought of having to live here. He wasn’t even inside yet and he could already see their smug faces in front of his eyes, looking at him as the outsider, someone who didn’t deserve to be among them, someone less than. It made Joe’s blood boil just thinking about it.

He lowered his window and tapped the button labelled ‘1205: Justice, C’ on the stand next to the door.

Static returned from the speaker before a woman spoke in a cheery voice. “Who is it?”

“This is Detective Joe Vega from the Ellesburg PD and I had some questions for Mrs. Justice.”

“This is she. Questions about what, detective?” She asked.

“It’s about your husband.” Joe responded. The static cut out and the gears of the gate began to move.

Rosewood Lane stood on the opposite end of Athea, away from the river Daine, high above the rest of the city, like a literal pedestal for the uber rich, overlooking the people beneath them. Joe had never been inside before.

From the inside, the place looked even more like it was built on the backs of exploited laborers or in other words, rich. As Joe made his way to the Justice house, he couldn’t help but notice all the non-white people tending to — most likely not their own — gardens, cutting the trees, cleaning up the area. A few women sat outside, self tanning in the sun while a few children moved along the streets, playing their games, enjoying their tiny, sheltered worlds.

Joe wondered if these people knew what happened outside their little paradise up here or if they were just blissfully ignorant.

Joe found his way to the Justice house fairly easily. The big mansion stood intimidatingly, distinguishable even in the fake utopia that was Rosewood Lane. Just from the outside, Joe could see eight windows on the top floor and six long ones on the bottom, the door sandwiched between the three long windows on each side. It rose high up, higher than most other houses around it. It somewhat reminded him of the front of the white house.

Pulling into the Justice house’s driveway, the door to the house opened and a woman, presumably Mrs. Justice from the look of her clothes, stood in the doorway, as if she couldn’t wait for Joe to ring the doorbell.

He stepped out of his car and locked the car behind him as he walked up the stairs onto the front porch of the house.

“Mrs. Justice?” Joe asked. 

She nodded. “Please, come inside.” She moved aside to let him in.

He walked in and she followed him, quickly closing the door behind her.

“You said you had some questions?” She asked nervously.

“Yeah.”

“Please, let’s sit in the living room.”

“Alright.” Joe said, following her deeper into what seemed like an endless stream of doors. The ivory walls of the house rose high, the large dome shaped skylight at the top blasted sunlight in, making them seem even more white. The walls were decorated with a variety of objects, most of what Joe assumed to be antiques of some sort and some family photos. Every frame was golden, perfectly machined and manufactured, just like the pictures in those frames. Flawless. A disgusting image. A facade to show the world how perfect their family was. Joe suspected that was anywhere near the case.

The whole house was smattered with objects that brought some contrast to the stark white. If he wasn’t human, some onlooker would probably say he was the most contrasting thing there.

All the white around him was almost intimidating. Unblemished, untouched, pure. But he couldn’t let himself get distracted. He had a job to do.

“Right in here.” She said, opening a set of two large doors into a large open living room that screamed minimalist. No decorations, no frills. The only furniture was the sofas and some lamps beside them on tiny coffee tables. Two extremely comfortable looking alcoves separated by the TV on the wall decorated the rest of the room aside from the table in front on the sofa. In the bottom right corner of the room stood a tiny bookcase, all on its own, almost a distraction from the rest of the room’s minimalism. Sunbeams flooded the room from the alcove windows as Joe and Mrs. Justice sat down on the sofa. It was so quiet that the rubbing of Joe’s jeans against the white leather as he adjusted in his seat was the loudest sound in the room.

“So, Mrs. Justice—” Joe began.

“Please, Jessica is fine.”

“Alright, Jessica.” Joe took out his recorder and placed it on the glass table in front of him, turning it on.

“Please state your name for the record.” Joe said.

“Uh, this is Jessica Justice.” She said hesitantly. “What is this about, Detective?”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but I’m afraid I have some bad news. It’s about your husband.”

“Oh god.” She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand and looking away. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“I’m afraid so.” Joe said quietly, nodding.

“When did it happen?” She asked, choking up.

“A few days ago, we just got the full autopsy this morning confirming it’s him.” 

Really, by protocol, Joe should’ve informed her two days ago when he actually got Carson’s address and confirmation from Jeanie that it was actually Carson but he doubted Jessica would know that and other things had actually held him up.

“How…” Her voice was shaky. “How did he die?”

“Someone hit him with something really hard.” He took a breath. “And then buried him in Shadow Woods, near the border of Tenebris and Ellesburg.”

“Oh god.” She stood up.

“I know this might be a lot to take in…” Joe said calmly. He had always hated this part. Not because it was hard but because it was messy. Even after all this time, he’d never figured out exactly how to console the people. And he loved his job but god he hated being the messenger of news like this and being put in this position.

“What are your questions, detective?” She turns, wiping tears from her face.

“Well, I was just wondering when you last saw Carson.”

“I think it was August the 30th?” She sat down again. “He had a habit of disappearing for days without contact.”

“Is that why you didn’t report him missing?”

“Yes.” She sniffled, nodding and wiping another tear.

“And do you know of any enemies he might have had or anyone who hated him?”

“Detective, my husband was a rich man, practically everyone hated him or was jealous of him for some reason. But I can’t think of anyone in particular.”

“Alright. Just a few more questions and I’ll be out of your hair. Where were you on the night of September the third?”

“Was the night when he—”

“Yes, that’s what we’re assuming so far.” Joe said softly.

“I think I was here all day.”

“You didn’t leave the house all day?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Anyone that can corroborate the alibi?”

“Our maid, Kelly. And the security cameras in the house. Carson had them installed when we first moved in.”

“All right, then. Just get me the info for Kelly and that footage and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Of course.” She sniffled. 

“Actually, could I get the whole footage from when you last saw him?”

“Of course. I think the entire last month is backed up on his computer in his study.”

“Fantastic. And that’s it, Jessica. If I have any more questions, I’ll let you know.”

Joe turned off the recorder and stood up.

“Detective,” She stopped him, “When can I see him?”

“I can arrange for a visit tomorrow morning, if that works.”

“Thank you.” She whispered, turning away. “Come on, I’ll show you to the study.”

Joe followed her out of the room and through more hallways before they arrived at the study.

The study was the entire opposite of the house. Wood everywhere. Real wood, as far as Joe could tell. The walls were decorated with the same frames as the rest of the house and a desk stood in front of the only window in the room.

“Is this hardwood?” Joe asked, looking at the floor.

“Yes.” Jessica replied, walking over to the desk. “Here. Here’s the computer.” She pointed at a small metallic enclosure sitting on the desk next to a monitor.

Joe walked up next to her. “Is it on right now?”

“I think so. It should be.”

“Alright, well I can’t take it with me but I’ll send some people over to collect the evidence. Would that be alright?”

“I suppose so. Well, here’s Kelly’s info then.” She grabbed the stack of post-it’s on the desk and a pen and scribbled down Kelly’s phone number and address. “That’s where you can reach her.”

“Thank you, Jessica. I appreciate the help and the cooperation.”

“Of course, detective. Well, you know your way out.” She said, putting on a happy face.

“That I do.” Joe said, walking away, leaving the woman alone. He had other places to be.

*

#writing #writeblr #writblr #creative writing #original writing #excerpts from my writing #excerpt #wip #a year at the opera #ayato

[vladiiibasarab]

Answering a question about what would happen if Vlad came back in this era. What about America?

Scenario 1:

He was a diehard patriot… to his own country, Wallachia. He wouldn't care about America.

Scenario 2:

He decides to take power but because he is a straight, white, Christian, male, he is everything the leftwing despises and since they seem to be a majority here in America, he would not get the popular vote. However, if the leftwing is successful with their move to get rid of or at least severely restrict gun ownership, the people's right to bear arms is impeded and they cannot form militias. If he turns our military to his side, and I have no doubt he could (I'll explain after this), the people's only hope is to form a militia and fight back. But if we can't, we are easy pickings.

So...could Vlad gain military support to overthrow the government? Yes, I believe he could. First. He was a fairly skilled crowd motivator. Second, the military is starting to get quite fed up with the political games and corruption. Feeling like the country they've sacrificed so much for doesn't care about or even appreciate them would make them easier to persuade. Especially if they forget that they aren't only defending the citizens but also the flag and what it stands for, freedom. My own personal side note, I suggest we show a little respect and appreciation for our soldiers.

Anyway, he was a very clever and resourceful man. He would plan out an attack and I have no doubt it would be devastating. With the military's help, he would overthrow out current government and take power forcefully. He would probably execute most of them to make an example. He detested lying and disloyalty.

After that, he'd go after internal threats, crime, differing religions, the jobless and poor. Vlad's idea of a welfare plan probably would consist of being fed your last meal, locked in a room, and being burned alive. He had no qualms about killing women and children. My guess is, if anyone was caught badmouthing him or his rules they'd me made a public example like the liars, thieves, murderers… any crime really… he might impale them, he might not. I doesn't really matter, there would be some sort of public demonstration though. It would be on every TV, every phone, every Newspaper.

Next he would go after religious groups and alternative culture. Though I believe he would seek to eradicate everything but orthodox Christianity, I have a feeling it would mostly be the Muslims and LGBT community he would go after the hardest. Let me explain. First of all, he became a member of The Order of the Dragon, at the age of 5. This group was founded to defend Christianity and uphold Christianity, especially against Islam. Of course he would go after the Muslims, not only because they were the religious group he swore to fight against, but also because the Ottomans were Muslim and tried to convert him. When he didn't convert or cooperate he was physically and sexually abused. He hated them with a burning passion. I think the LGBT community would be his next biggest target because he was raped and because according to the Bible, homosexuality is a sin. It was a sin that was forced on him by his captors so of course he would try to eradicate it in an effort to right that wrong that was done to him. Not only that, but his little brother was pretty much turned into the Sultan's sex slave and even converted to Islam (the latter is debatable but it seems as though this was the case). He had a personal vendetta against both groups.

After he took care of these, he would set about making his new land just like his homeland. He would enforce strict law and order, enforce gender roles, bring back slavery (but it would be the law offenders that he didn't have killed), and declare orthodox Christianity to be the only religion. In his own mind he would be creating the perfect Christian country even though he clearly forgot that God wants people to choose him because they want to… not because a dictator is threatening to murder or enslave them if they don't. But he also impaled liars and murderers alike sooo… he had a very skewed view of things.

After that, he would set about securing the land. He would build the military and secure borders. He might build a wall but I have q feeling it would be more along the lines of impaled or piled bodies of those that tried to enter illegally. But I doubt illegal immigration would be such a problem after a little while since, under his rein, America would no longer be the appealing country it is today. If anyone did want in, he would probably only accept those that he thought would help further the country. The doctors, engineers… people like that… not an unskilled laborer.

He isn't at all the leader America needs. We are a country that strives for freedom or speech and religion and political views. If we allow anything other than that, we are not America.

On the upside, American would be the most lawful country in the world!

Scenario 3:

He decides to take control of America but only succeeds in winning over part of the military. What's left of the military joins forces with the civilians who own firearms and they are able to put up a good fight. Vlad and his loyal mercenaries lose but America won at a heavy cost. The current internal dissension only drives us further apart. Instead of both political sides listening and working together like they should in a time like that, they fight amongst themselves and the people suffer. The country, on the verge of another civil war, inevitably falls.

Not to be all doom and gloom but if someone were to try and take over, whether they were a dictator or some sort of socialist or communist leader, I think it would be the end of America. Neither side is working together. In our so called effort for "equality" we are really trying for equity. As nice as that would be, that can never work. People who work harder to better themselves should have more, they worked for it. If someone is a deadbeat and doesn't do anything for themselves or isn't actively trying to better themselves, they don't deserve to be a millionaire. It's that simple. Forget politics, forget race and gender or whatever people want to make a big deal about and open your eyes to the truth. We are all human beings. Some have more than others, it's true, but we all need to work hard and seek to be the best we can be. Stop blaming others for why you can't and do what it takes (lawfully) so that you can.

I'm just going to use one of my personal heros... do you think Dr. Ben Carson got where he was because people handed him things? No, he worked his butt off! He came from nothing. His family was poor and his mother had no education but she told him that he was not a victim, that he could be anything he wanted if he would just work for it! AND HE DID! He did it! He accomplished his dreams and beat all the odds. All those people that told him he couldn't because... he told them "I will", and he did.

But we need to set aside our differences and pull together as a nation or we will surely fall.

#vlad answers questions #the impaler answers questions #dracula answers questions

[hangonimevolving]

Attempting some gratitude, for once.

I need to post this, before the thought and the mood from which it’s sprung both dissipate into thin air.

I suck at gratitude, on the whole. Seriously, I do, and I know I need to work on that. I’ll spare everyone my sob stories, explanations, justifications, etc. for why I have had a hard time with gratitude in recent years, but suffice to say - I am aware that I suck at it, and I heard somewhere that the first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one.... so fine. I admit it. I’m ungrateful and unappreciative in my life most days.

But today, I’ve had multiple - MULTIPLE - moments of just feeling this weird, inexplicable, warm and fuzzy, happy, sigh-inducing THING just bubble up in me. And I was like WTF is this feeling?! Why is my tummy all glittery and light? Why am I sitting here on the sofa smiling for no damn reason?! OHHHHH! Wait! Is this.....gratitude?! HOLY SHIT, I think it is! So I’m gonna write it down and note it for all posterity. I, Evolver, have felt gratitude on this 7th day of September, 2018.

It all started last Saturday night, where, right in the middle of Labor Day weekend and my sister Rithers’ visit to our hike in Miami along with her hubby, Uncle K, and her kids H20 and NiNi, our 5.5-year old Vevvy fell ill. We thought that perhaps he was just overly exhausted from a long and happy day in the pool when he felt warm to the touch on Saturday night, but mid-day Sunday, during a beach excursion - Vev’s FAVORITE thing in the world, he completely fell apart, acting listless, fatigued, and not having fun at all. One look at him, standing statuesque on the beach, staring out to sea longingly while tears rolled down his cheeks, said it all: “what is going on?! I’m so confused, mommy! I’m in my favorite place in the world, and yet I feel so miserable! What is happening to me?!” A hand on his forehead revealed that he was burning up. Without a moment’s hesitation, Dr. Spouse loaded him up in the car and headed for home, while I remained at the beach with Dey to host Rithers and co. a while longer. Poor Vev needed a shower, some kiddie Tylenol, and bed rest, stat.

the “I am siiiiick” face :(

Over the next seven - SEVEN! - days, Vev would continue to have relentless fevers or 101-103F even with continuous children’s Tylenol and Motrin. He also developed monster congestion in his sinuses and nose, headaches, body ache, and general fatigue. I was sincerely shocked and more than a little intimidated by his congestion snot (keeping it real), which was so thick and oppressive, it would choke his throat and inhibit his from breathing if he dared to rest in even a semi-reclining position. 

The poor kid had no choice but to be completely upright if he didn’t want to gag on his own phlegm, which meant that he (and by transitive property, I) could really sleep no more than 90 minutes at a stretch for four nights straight. He was miserable, and I was doing everything I could to help him, staying with him each night either on an air mattress in my bedroom, or just holding him against my shoulder/chest in my bed while he desperately tried to sleep and breathe at the same time. I felt awful for him, and mused for a moment about parents whose children have respiratory disorders like CF who live their lives this way.... good health is such a blessing that we all take for granted.

As much as I hated every minute of Vev’s suffering, there was something a bit nostalgic in holding him sleeping in my arms for several consecutive nights. Wasn’t there a time in the not-so-distant past where this was the ONLY way he’d sleep?! I bitch and moan all the time about how clingy, dependent, and non-self reliant my kids are — but it has been years since Vev needed me at night this way. My Vevvy has grown up a lot.

And to his credit, despite all this sicky misery, he was really a trooper while ill. Against his traditional character, when sick or not, he really didn’t complain much - just went quiet and kept to himself for days, forming a little nest on the sofa each day with a warm blankie, big box of Kleenex, and his iPad, not really asking for much at all except quiet and rest. He never really complained when I had to give him medication, and he did his best to heed my urges to drink clear fluids even when I could tell he really didn’t want to. And - forgive the TMI here - but you know your kid is really growing up when they begin to have some way of forewarning you and/or running to the bathroom on their own steam and hitting the preferred target of the toilet when they’ve gotta vomit. Fortunately, Vev only puked twice this week, and I suspect that too was only bc he gagged on his own copious snot — but both times, he announced “throwwww uuuup!” to me before sprinting to the loo and handling affairs with no mess and accurate aim. HALLELUJAH! This should be considered a major developmental milestone!!! (And yes - poor, poor kid! I really am glad it was only the twice, because that must have sucked a lot for him!)

Yeah, so.  He’s growing up.  Way to go, buddy!!!... and, sniff.

(supposedly this says “Mommy I love you ”...  but he always starts writing at the bottom of a page and works his way up.  He may also be of the mind that “Mommy” is spelled “mom-E.”  Yes, we’re gonna work on it)

It was only yesterday, Thursday, that we got an official pediatrician diagnosis of his illness: the flu, as in the legit flu virus, or Influenza A. The word came too late for antiviral medications to be of any great use to him, unfortunately, but I was grateful anyway that we got a halfway-decent pediatrician BRILLIANT nurse practitioner who needed my assertive request demand for a prophylactic prescription or Tamiflu for Dey. We’ve had shitty luck in South Florida with pediatricians who appear to be reactionary and unnecessarily nonsensical in their responses to my requests for help - but this time, our pedi NP was A+. She treated our family like competent, educated people and did things that made sense as far as ensuring this highly-contagious virus wouldn’t spread to another healthy child living in the same household. I wish she could be our regular PCP (but of course, I bet she can’t be, bc she’s not a doctor. Grr, fucking managed care. Oops, hold it - I’m supposed to be channeling gratitude here, not my customary bitchiness. My bad.)

Anyway, speaking of Dey, I’ve got to brag about him a bit here too. At 3.5 years old, Dey’s baseline is definitely chill, go-with-the-flow, glass-half-full, and a pleasant, happy and easygoing “whatever you want, dude!”-ness that Vev NEVER was at that age. It’s been really awesome to see. But this week, his general outlook on life, combined with impressive moments of being a team player, cooperating, helping out, and exhibiting formidable empathy really made me sooo proud.

It’s certainly understandable that he’d be potentially jealous that his older brother got to skip an entire week of school while he still had to go. It would be even more understandable since they are actual CLASSMATES at school this year (yes, our Montessori school groups ages 4-6/preschool, pre-K and kindergarten in one classroom, so they’ve been together at school and at home since the start of the academic year). So I was very impressed when Dey accepted his brother’s illness and his need to stay home from school, while he was forced to go. Without one word of complaint, he’d get up each morning, eat his breakfast, get washed up and dressed out in uniform, gather his things, then visit Vev quickly and dispense a goodbye hug and a “hope you feel better, Vev!” before loading up in the car for school drop-off. What a trooper. At afternoon pick-up, when I’d ask about his day at school, he’d say with a little frown, “oh, school was okay...but Vev wasn’t on the playground.” It was kinda weird feeling my heart simultaneously break a little, but also burst with pride at how much he loves his brother. Sweet kiddo. 

At home, each afternoon he’d run excitedly to Vev to see how he was doing, his face full of hopeful anticipation that perhaps today, Vev was feeling better and could play with him... but when he’d find Vev too miserable and tired to play, his face would momentarily fall in disappointment, but then he would muster some compassion and understanding, silently shuffle away, and find a quiet game to do in the vicinity, just so he could be nearby without disturbing Vev. Or, cuter still, he’d snuggle down on the opposite side of the couch as Vev, and tune his iPad into the same YouTube video Vev would be watching, so they could give each other silly smiles and glances during the funny parts. The boy would periodically race off in the house to find his toy doctor kit, and would affix his little plastic stethoscope to his ears so he could “give Vev a checkup” and “make him feel better.” 

(Dr. Cutie Pie is in)

It was adorable, man. His whole world spins because of his brother. It’s so touching. I don’t know how it is that I managed to have two kids who love each other so much, because karmically I’ve done NOTHING to earn this. My sister and I were rotten to each other as kids, and only really turned a corner on it in our... what, our late 30′s?!  Haha :)  But I’m so grateful for these two dudes. These two little people are the best of friends, and they can’t live without each other. The feels.

One more funny brag about Dey. Dr. Spouse and I often jokingly refer to him as Dory, i.e. the lovable blue fish, voiced by Ellen DeGeneres from the Disney movie “Finding Nemo.” Dory’s schtick is that she’s easily distracted and has short-term memory. 

Fittingly, Dory is one of Dey’s favorite cartoon characters, and he’s not shy to let the world know....

Anyway. Remember that whole prophylactic script for Tamiflu? Mind you, I was so grateful to get it. But. Ummmm, pediatric Tamiflu tastes FOUL. It is seriously the most bitter, disgusting, viscous goo I’ve ever gingerly licked to mentally prepare myself for my kid’s reaction to. I began fearing Dey’s reaction, and the ensuing tantrums to come over the five-day course of the drug. But I spoke matter-of-fairly to Dey about how this was a medicine he’d need to take to keep himself healthy, and that it would be a little bit yucky, but that I’d give him a HUGE spoonful of sugar right after to make it taste better (and THANK YOU, blessed Mary Poppins, for your genius). 

 Luckily, little Dory just took my words at face value without any further thought, opened his mouth, and downed the nasty shot of devil’s semen Tamiflu that I dispensed into his mouth. Immediately his face went every shade of red, purple, and white, with a coordinating expression like “what the hell is this shit?!” — but I swooped in there prepared, like a crack-smoking Mother of Batman, giving him a swig of water then heaping a MASSIVE spoon of white sugar directly onto his tongue. The result was nothing short of magical - the kid instantaneously closed his eyes in pleasure, turned up his cute little round cheeks to the ceiling with a huge smile on his face, and loudly cooed “Mmmm!” as if it was the best damn thing he’d ever eaten in his life. Moments later, the sugar fully dissolved, Dey matter-of-fairly reminisced with a RainMan-esque tone, “hey mommy, that medicine was kind of yucky for me. Kind of salty. Kind of spicy. But the SUGAR WAS YUUUUUUMMMMMY!” I worried that at the next dosing (and man, the kid’s gotta take it morning and night, poor little dude) he’d run screaming from the salty spicy medicine, and wouldn’t fall for the sugar trick — but amazingly, when I announced “medicine and sugar time,” the child came RUNNING to me with a huge grin on his face like he’d just won the lottery. He gulped down the medicine like a champ, swigged the water himself, then began changing “Su-gar! Su-gar! Su-gar!” till I ladled a bit into his mouth.  Naturally, my mind spun forward a bit, concerned that his ease of overcoming the Yucky Taste Barrier and downing this stuff for a cheap reward might translate into some unsavory teenage and young adult behaviors (err, tequila shot champion in the making?!  Please god, help us).  But, for now - eternally grateful for my little Dory’s easy distractability and forgiving memory!!! Vev, at that age and even now, would have NEVER gone along with this!

(is it just me, or do they even kinda sorta look alike, Dory and Dey?  No one else sees it?!  No one?!!!  Hmm...)

Anyway. In conclusion, it’s not normal for me to have something kind of bad happen, like the flu hitting one of my kids, but finding some good in the mess. But here I am, in spite of myself, awash in all the warm fuzzies.

1. I’ve got two healthy, happy kids, when many people have children with serious health issues and have to live their lives watching their kids sick and miserable all the time

2. my kids are growing up, becoming wonderfully independent, self-reliant, empathetic and helpful. But they still sometimes need me, and that’s nice too.

3. They both have such fun, distinct personalities.

4. I admit that it’s pretty awesome that my second kid is so chill. Love them both to bits, but if kid #2 has been more ornery and neurotic, I think that would have sucked. Having a chill kid #2 is a godsend.

5.  They frigging LOVE EACH OTHER.  It’s a goddamn brotherly love fest up in here.  

6.  Last but not least - the flu sucks, but it isn’t forever, and life will go on.  Soon, in fact.  And we’ll be onto the next adventure together.  Look forward to seeing what it’ll be!

#Vev #Dey #parenthood #influenza #flu #brotherlylove

[negression]

Tiffany Gholar (image courtesy of the artist)

This is Part 2 with Tiffany Gholar (Part 1 here). I was personally blown away by Gholar’s fourth publication, The Sum of Its Parts: Artwork, 2014-2018. Immediately upon completion of it, I recalled Carrie Mae Weems in a video commemorating her 2014 MacArthur “Genius Grant” win. At the time, Ms. Weems was featured in solo exhibit at the Guggenheim, a show I visited several times. Yet, her relief and decompression was palpable as she described what the notably large grant meant most to her upon first word of it: “I won’t have to fight so hard for every, single thing.”

As an outside fan, my impression was Weems was writing her own ticket. As long as I had followed her career, I never imagined she had to fight for anything. And while I have the privilege of friendship with Gholar to come inside, I still had the same impression of her career from my outside look. The Sum of Its Parts was a wake-up call I needed and could have written myself. I suspect Weems and more could as well. Why don’t we?

Gholar has provided missive for a new way to write about the creative life, art-making and (most specifically) Black women navigating those historically troubled waters for all talents. Usually, we receive saccharine look-back chronicles of celebrities’ “early days” as starving artists and couch surfers, after the most iconic artists blossomed into household names. Rarely do we hear from those of us who remain somewhere in the middle, as budget artistry and near volunteer work for our works are not the most sexy and glamorous revelations for a public who needs its stars to help them escape or fantasize.

Daily, in real life and online, we walk on a lonely balance beam between the blessed opportunities we have to show dreams come true and our necessity to be paid or sell. The Sum of Its Parts suggests the world must see both in equal measure and respect if writers, artists and creatives at large are to persevere. It is my honor to join Gholar in enlightening others on the unseen fight for every success.

Gholar is a multi-facted visual artist whose many offerings include personalized interior design for commercial and residential spaces, custom made artwork tailored to clients and participation in women-centered art exhibitions. She is an expert in a variety of space models, building types and art materials as well as current trends in art, design and color. She is also a prolific writer who has documented four bodies of work with companion books to explain the theoretical, process and societal depths behind each body. Her contributions to fiction include the novel A Bitter Pill to Swallow, a Chicago Writer’s Association 2016 Book of the Year; School Library Journal praised it for inserting an uncommon element of multi-generational concerns into modern YA fiction.

Her vibrant, uplifting collections of smaller retail products, apparel and displays are available through Zazzle’s Mixed Media Art Design store– including offerings based on one of my favorites of hers: “Flower Power.” This juicy, complex collage work is but one example of Gholar’s radical efforts to bring fine art to the mass public, with printing options available on products such as journals and totes. It is artwork I passed on to inspire for my latest novel’s cover and I was happy to see it influenced the final result. Please enjoy the rest of our discussion on what it is to be Black women creating today.

“Flower Power” by Tiffany Gholar (image courtesy of the artist). Click image to purchase office products such as journals featuring this art and more.

Kalisha Buckhanon: I remember coming to last year’s The Other Art Fair and seeing “Violet Verve.” That’s a real painting. It spoke to me, called out. Thank you for documenting its creation in the book. I regret I could not buy it, mainly because of these self-funding creative issues you document in The Sum of Its Parts. Ironically, my friends who aren’t creators splurge on art, film, theater more than I do- and I’m the one who needs that creativity on a regular basis, to power my own creative motor. So if creative professionals can not splurge on each other or feel guilty when we do, and the masses are just on the internet, how can we adapt: artist cooperatives, individual subscription services, social media boycotting?

Tiffany Gholar: Thank you for remembering “Violet Verve.” That really means a lot to me. To answer your question about how we can adapt, yes, I think artist cooperatives and individual subscription services are a great idea. I have seen other artists do well with them. I’m not sure if boycotting social media is the answer. But I am trying to network more in-person because I haven’t reaped the benefits from being online that I had expected to. That’s why I am also feeling a lot more skeptical about the social media for artists “experts.” I am wary of wasting my time with their webinars and articles, or buying services I don’t need.

  “Violet Verve” by Tiffany Gholar (image courtesy of the artist). Click the image to find out about Gholar’s latest show and explore pieces.

K.B.: I never noticed “Violet Verve” had a flaw, the number “7” you said the paintbrush accidentally dried into it. I also did not notice you had a want of buyers, were responsible for the booth fee, did not get a grant to pay the exhibition fee, had no help hauling your work to set up and dismantle it, and- though I should have known this one- weren’t paid for two-days time you spent there. Reading your side in the book, which I participated in the unpaid labor of, made me realize how much I speak and put on shows for free. All writers do. But I go to writers’ public readings, and museums, just assuming grants pay big speaker fees and wealthy patrons buy larger artworks. I never consider the sum of my part adding to a whole, and I am an artist. Besides buying books and small art pieces here or there, what can I do? Am I wrong for sharing many things and artists I love online, giving glimpses and snippets with awareness people may not be buying?

T.G.: No, I think it’s great that you share the work of the artists you love online because you never know who might see it, or if what you’ve shared will be passed on by someone who could make it go viral. If even ten percent of the accounts that follow me on social media would share my work as much as you have, I would be so much better off.

K.B.: That’s good to hear. I do think you are exemplary to others for offering so many options to the public, from your quite informative social media channels to your many smaller products many fine artists are not considering or providing enough of.

T.G.: Yes, I love it when people buy small art pieces from me. That’s why I make them. I know that not everyone can afford to spend a few hundred dollars on a larger painting, but plenty of people have $25 for a miniature piece that can decorate their cubicle or bookshelf. That‘s also why I use print-on-demand sites like Zazzle and Society6, so that I can also sell my work at lower price points to customers who want something practical, like a throw pillow or a phone case.

Gholar’s “The Doll Project”, created out of concern for thin body images forced on women and girls, features a variety of charming and affordable gifts or products at Society6.

T.G. (continued): As for the art fair, my brother actually helped me bring the paintings from my studio to the venue. He helped me hang them as well, so at least I did have help in that area. But you’re right about the time that I was not paid for. I spent four days total and never sold a single painting. I had to borrow money to even get my booth! You’re right about the unpaid labor of creative work, though sometimes the venues that will pay may be surprising. A few years ago, I did a show at a university gallery. They sent a messenger service to pick up the artwork and return it when the show ended, in addition to paying me a fee for participating. I would love it if all my shows were like that.

K.B.: You wrote about leaping into Instagram with high hopes and finding out it was just another area to compete in the “Best Life” show. But you pointed out great connections you made from Twitter and Facebook. So, it is a two-sided coin. I am curious how you stay so prolific on social media, but still manage to create as much art as you do. Any tips or ideas about best practices for those who are overwhelmed in this area?

T.G.: I try to schedule my social media in advance so I don’t spend as much time online, although sometimes it’s easy to get distracted because so much is going on I want to keep up with. Scheduling allows me to continuously share my work while I am actually not on my computer or phone. Half of the “content” I share is finished work or occasional photos of work in progress. The other half is work that inspires me by other creatives. I only follow accounts that I enjoy hearing from, at least when it comes to individual people. I don’t believe in “hate-following” people.

There are some local organizations I don’t necessarily agree with, but follow to see what they’re up to. I don’t debate people on social media, either. I’m not afraid to stop following accounts that annoy me, turn off retweets from accounts that share things I don’t want to see, mute accounts that are tedious, and block people who are downright hateful. It’s not perfect, but it has helped make my experience tolerable, and even enjoyable sometimes. Although my work has never gone viral on social media and I have only gotten a handful of art sales and projects because of it, it has benefited me in other ways. It’s made me aware of grants, galleries, art shows, and other opportunities I wouldn’t have known about otherwise.

K.B.: I have a personal mission to avoid mentioning “Trump,” not even in a card game. My horror is so deep. But I can not avoid applauding you for being so clear about his contamination of our souls, and our souls root all creatives. I, too, stopped creating from it. This unqualified leader has scattered our thinking, given us forms of mental and emotional illness. In the book, you vowed you are “Reclaiming My Time.” What do you hope will be the sum of all you are and have learned in your next body of work, 2019-2023?

T.G.: I can definitely understand that! I didn’t want his name to defile my book, so I never used it once. “Horror” is a great way to describe how I felt about everything that has transpired since the 2016 election. I was also furious, disgusted, and depressed. I disapprove of him on so many levels. But as a Black woman, I feel a deep resentment for the power he and the unqualified people around him have been given when I am under so much pressure to be ten times as good to get paid half as much and get half as far as a mediocre white man. And I despise being governed by fools.

For the sake of my own sanity, I spend less time watching the news as I did when he first came into power. I think that obsessively watching the news on TV and online was what drained my creative drive in 2017. Now I try very hard to maintain some semblance of balance, between staying informed and being overloaded with information that enrages me because there is so little that I can do to change things. I still support resistance movements, but I allow myself the creative freedom to make whatever kind of art I feel like in the moment, even if it means some people might dismiss it as escapist if it’s not a vessel for all my negative feelings or if it’s not protest art.

K.B.: There is so much pressure, especially on artists of color, to make protest art. Sometimes we just want to tell stories and make magic like we’ve done all our lives. But given this has been our lives for so long now, I’m coming to a loss on how not to infect my work with it. It’s going to be interesting to see how both our work evolves within this.

T.G.: I’ve actually started working on my next art book, though at the moment it doesn’t have a title. My goal for now is to build my interior design practice so I feel less pressure to sell my artwork. Of course, I still want to sell artwork. However, worrying about sales can make painting less enjoyable for me. I am really interested in continuing to work in the same style I’ve been working in. I feel like I still have a lot more textures and shapes that I want to explore, and still feel excited about the prospect of making new work.

(Tiffany Gholar will read from The Sum of Its Parts tonight at Tuesday Funk, Chicago’s longstanding reading series, at 5148 N. Clark Street, 7:30 p.m.)

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“I allow myself creative freedom to make whatever kind of art I feel like in the moment…” More with #TiffanyGholar on her new book #TheSumOfItsParts, a must-read for women artists dealing with doubt. #Arts #Women #Culture #Justice

This is Part 2 with Tiffany Gholar (Part 1 here). I was personally blown away by Gholar’s fourth publication, …

"I allow myself creative freedom to make whatever kind of art I feel like in the moment..." More with #TiffanyGholar on her new book #TheSumOfItsParts, a must-read for women artists dealing with doubt. #Arts #Women #Culture #Justice This is Part 2 with Tiffany Gholar (Part 1 here). I was personally blown away by Gholar's fourth publication, …

#NegressionSuggestsArt #The Sum of Its Parts #Tiffany Gholar

[kalishaonline]

Tiffany Gholar (image courtesy of the artist)

This is Part 2 with Tiffany Gholar (Part 1 here). I was personally blown away by Gholar’s fourth publication, The Sum of Its Parts: Artwork, 2014-2018. Immediately upon completion of it, I recalled Carrie Mae Weems in a video commemorating her 2014 MacArthur “Genius Grant” win. At the time, Ms. Weems was featured in solo exhibit at the Guggenheim, a show I visited several times. Yet, her relief and decompression was palpable as she described what the notably large grant meant most to her upon first word of it: “I won’t have to fight so hard for every, single thing.”

As an outside fan, my impression was Weems was writing her own ticket. As long as I had followed her career, I never imagined she had to fight for anything. And while I have the privilege of friendship with Gholar to come inside, I still had the same impression of her career from my outside look. The Sum of Its Parts was a wake-up call I needed and could have written myself. I suspect Weems and more could as well. Why don’t we?

Gholar has provided missive for a new way to write about the creative life, art-making and (most specifically) Black women navigating those historically troubled waters for all talents. Usually, we receive saccharine look-back chronicles of celebrities’ “early days” as starving artists and couch surfers, after the most iconic artists blossomed into household names. Rarely do we hear from those of us who remain somewhere in the middle, as budget artistry and near volunteer work for our works are not the most sexy and glamorous revelations for a public who needs its stars to help them escape or fantasize.

Daily, in real life and online, we walk on a lonely balance beam between the blessed opportunities we have to show dreams come true and our necessity to be paid or sell. The Sum of Its Parts suggests the world must see both in equal measure and respect if writers, artists and creatives at large are to persevere. It is my honor to join Gholar in enlightening others on the unseen fight for every success.

Gholar is a multi-facted visual artist whose many offerings include personalized interior design for commercial and residential spaces, custom made artwork tailored to clients and participation in women-centered art exhibitions. She is an expert in a variety of space models, building types and art materials as well as current trends in art, design and color. She is also a prolific writer who has documented four bodies of work with companion books to explain the theoretical, process and societal depths behind each body. Her contributions to fiction include the novel A Bitter Pill to Swallow, a Chicago Writer’s Association 2016 Book of the Year; School Library Journal praised it for inserting an uncommon element of multi-generational concerns into modern YA fiction.

Her vibrant, uplifting collections of smaller retail products, apparel and displays are available through Zazzle’s Mixed Media Art Design store– including offerings based on one of my favorites of hers: “Flower Power.” This juicy, complex collage work is but one example of Gholar’s radical efforts to bring fine art to the mass public, with printing options available on products such as journals and totes. It is artwork I passed on to inspire for my latest novel’s cover and I was happy to see it influenced the final result. Please enjoy the rest of our discussion on what it is to be Black women creating today.

“Flower Power” by Tiffany Gholar (image courtesy of the artist). Click image to purchase office products such as journals featuring this art and more.

Kalisha Buckhanon: I remember coming to last year’s The Other Art Fair and seeing “Violet Verve.” That’s a real painting. It spoke to me, called out. Thank you for documenting its creation in the book. I regret I could not buy it, mainly because of these self-funding creative issues you document in The Sum of Its Parts. Ironically, my friends who aren’t creators splurge on art, film, theater more than I do- and I’m the one who needs that creativity on a regular basis, to power my own creative motor. So if creative professionals can not splurge on each other or feel guilty when we do, and the masses are just on the internet, how can we adapt: artist cooperatives, individual subscription services, social media boycotting?

Tiffany Gholar: Thank you for remembering “Violet Verve.” That really means a lot to me. To answer your question about how we can adapt, yes, I think artist cooperatives and individual subscription services are a great idea. I have seen other artists do well with them. I’m not sure if boycotting social media is the answer. But I am trying to network more in-person because I haven’t reaped the benefits from being online that I had expected to. That’s why I am also feeling a lot more skeptical about the social media for artists “experts.” I am wary of wasting my time with their webinars and articles, or buying services I don’t need.

  “Violet Verve” by Tiffany Gholar (image courtesy of the artist). Click the image to find out about Gholar’s latest show and explore pieces.

K.B.: I never noticed “Violet Verve” had a flaw, the number “7” you said the paintbrush accidentally dried into it. I also did not notice you had a want of buyers, were responsible for the booth fee, did not get a grant to pay the exhibition fee, had no help hauling your work to set up and dismantle it, and- though I should have known this one- weren’t paid for two-days time you spent there. Reading your side in the book, which I participated in the unpaid labor of, made me realize how much I speak and put on shows for free. All writers do. But I go to writers’ public readings, and museums, just assuming grants pay big speaker fees and wealthy patrons buy larger artworks. I never consider the sum of my part adding to a whole, and I am an artist. Besides buying books and small art pieces here or there, what can I do? Am I wrong for sharing many things and artists I love online, giving glimpses and snippets with awareness people may not be buying?

T.G.: No, I think it’s great that you share the work of the artists you love online because you never know who might see it, or if what you’ve shared will be passed on by someone who could make it go viral. If even ten percent of the accounts that follow me on social media would share my work as much as you have, I would be so much better off.

K.B.: That’s good to hear. I do think you are exemplary to others for offering so many options to the public, from your quite informative social media channels to your many smaller products many fine artists are not considering or providing enough of.

T.G.: Yes, I love it when people buy small art pieces from me. That’s why I make them. I know that not everyone can afford to spend a few hundred dollars on a larger painting, but plenty of people have $25 for a miniature piece that can decorate their cubicle or bookshelf. That‘s also why I use print-on-demand sites like Zazzle and Society6, so that I can also sell my work at lower price points to customers who want something practical, like a throw pillow or a phone case.

Gholar’s “The Doll Project”, created out of concern for thin body images forced on women and girls, features a variety of charming and affordable gifts or products at Society6.

T.G. (continued): As for the art fair, my brother actually helped me bring the paintings from my studio to the venue. He helped me hang them as well, so at least I did have help in that area. But you’re right about the time that I was not paid for. I spent four days total and never sold a single painting. I had to borrow money to even get my booth! You’re right about the unpaid labor of creative work, though sometimes the venues that will pay may be surprising. A few years ago, I did a show at a university gallery. They sent a messenger service to pick up the artwork and return it when the show ended, in addition to paying me a fee for participating. I would love it if all my shows were like that.

K.B.: You wrote about leaping into Instagram with high hopes and finding out it was just another area to compete in the “Best Life” show. But you pointed out great connections you made from Twitter and Facebook. So, it is a two-sided coin. I am curious how you stay so prolific on social media, but still manage to create as much art as you do. Any tips or ideas about best practices for those who are overwhelmed in this area?

T.G.: I try to schedule my social media in advance so I don’t spend as much time online, although sometimes it’s easy to get distracted because so much is going on I want to keep up with. Scheduling allows me to continuously share my work while I am actually not on my computer or phone. Half of the “content” I share is finished work or occasional photos of work in progress. The other half is work that inspires me by other creatives. I only follow accounts that I enjoy hearing from, at least when it comes to individual people. I don’t believe in “hate-following” people.

There are some local organizations I don’t necessarily agree with, but follow to see what they’re up to. I don’t debate people on social media, either. I’m not afraid to stop following accounts that annoy me, turn off retweets from accounts that share things I don’t want to see, mute accounts that are tedious, and block people who are downright hateful. It’s not perfect, but it has helped make my experience tolerable, and even enjoyable sometimes. Although my work has never gone viral on social media and I have only gotten a handful of art sales and projects because of it, it has benefited me in other ways. It’s made me aware of grants, galleries, art shows, and other opportunities I wouldn’t have known about otherwise.

K.B.: I have a personal mission to avoid mentioning “Trump,” not even in a card game. My horror is so deep. But I can not avoid applauding you for being so clear about his contamination of our souls, and our souls root all creatives. I, too, stopped creating from it. This unqualified leader has scattered our thinking, given us forms of mental and emotional illness. In the book, you vowed you are “Reclaiming My Time.” What do you hope will be the sum of all you are and have learned in your next body of work, 2019-2023?

T.G.: I can definitely understand that! I didn’t want his name to defile my book, so I never used it once. “Horror” is a great way to describe how I felt about everything that has transpired since the 2016 election. I was also furious, disgusted, and depressed. I disapprove of him on so many levels. But as a Black woman, I feel a deep resentment for the power he and the unqualified people around him have been given when I am under so much pressure to be ten times as good to get paid half as much and get half as far as a mediocre white man. And I despise being governed by fools.

For the sake of my own sanity, I spend less time watching the news as I did when he first came into power. I think that obsessively watching the news on TV and online was what drained my creative drive in 2017. Now I try very hard to maintain some semblance of balance, between staying informed and being overloaded with information that enrages me because there is so little that I can do to change things. I still support resistance movements, but I allow myself the creative freedom to make whatever kind of art I feel like in the moment, even if it means some people might dismiss it as escapist if it’s not a vessel for all my negative feelings or if it’s not protest art.

K.B.: There is so much pressure, especially on artists of color, to make protest art. Sometimes we just want to tell stories and make magic like we’ve done all our lives. But given this has been our lives for so long now, I’m coming to a loss on how not to infect my work with it. It’s going to be interesting to see how both our work evolves within this.

T.G.: I’ve actually started working on my next art book, though at the moment it doesn’t have a title. My goal for now is to build my interior design practice so I feel less pressure to sell my artwork. Of course, I still want to sell artwork. However, worrying about sales can make painting less enjoyable for me. I am really interested in continuing to work in the same style I’ve been working in. I feel like I still have a lot more textures and shapes that I want to explore, and still feel excited about the prospect of making new work.

(Tiffany Gholar will read from The Sum of Its Parts tonight at Tuesday Funk, Chicago’s longstanding reading series, at 5148 N. Clark Street, 7:30 p.m.)

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"I allow myself creative freedom to make whatever kind of art I feel like in the moment..." More with #TiffanyGholar on her new book #TheSumOfItsParts, a must-read for women artists dealing with doubt. #Arts #Women #Culture #Justice This is Part 2 with Tiffany Gholar (Part 1 here). I was personally blown away by Gholar's fourth publication, …

#NegressionSuggestsArt #The Sum of Its Parts #Tiffany Gholar

[onthemazewall]

We Can All Win

I recently for read Frederick Douglas’ first autobiography. It was the most disturbing book I have read in a decade. I thought I knew slavery, but reading it I realized it contained horrors beyond even my imagination and he wasn’t even the worst kind of slave. The book taught me why we use the term ‘people of color’, which I initially thought sounded really stupid, but I now understand is a good catch all, especially since ‘colored’ was specifically for people who were of mixed European-African descent, and why ‘mulato’ is a dirty word, the only time I saw it used in the book was at a slur when a slaveholder screams at Frederick “You yellow bastard! You mulato!”, and confirmed what I knew that n-r has always been a filthy word connoting the the contempt of the speaker for the person upon whom this appellation is being used. The book also got me used to very long sentences again. Reading passages of it, I felt the need to compulsively go and consume food, thankful that I have enough to eat or walk around my house being thankful that I have enough clothes to wear and proper shelter. What struck me most was how relevant it still is today. The passages about him being a city slave in Baltimore, how his lot in life was little different than the poor white boys struck a cord. He talked about how at least for them, when they reached their majority they were free to choose their own paths in life, but as poor children, they differed little. The hostility of the white workers towards Frederick was an obvious manifestation of a zero sum mentality, that they in no way could let him succeed for fear that it would be to their detriment. When at the end of the book Frederick escapes to Rhode Island, he talks with wonder of how he had assumed the price of abolition would be everyone would have less and be poorer, but instead everyone white, black and colored made their own prosperity. In fact, New Bedford had more wealth than Baltimore, but was built on the backs of everyone’s labor, not simply a class of people profiting off the backs of the enslaved. This morning my father sent me a Ted Talk by a geneticist about the grayness of morality. The man is clearly an expert in his field, but this was not it and to me the lecture amounted to a defense of the Confederate states and slavery. Essentially his argument was that people did not know it was wrong. That religion, institutions and family indoctrinated them in the acceptability of slavery. They knew. When you’re starving, freezing, torturing people, you know it’s wrong. At one point Frederick says "...that the religion of the south is a mere covering for the most horrid crimes-a justifier of the most appalling barbarity-a sanctifier of the most hateful frauds- and a dark shelter under, which the darkest, foulest, grossest, and most infernal deeds of slaveholders find the strongest protection.” Furthermore their argument that Africans were destined to be slaves doesn’t really hold water, when you consider how many of these people had European blood: mulato, quadroon, octactaroon, they kept people in bondage when they were only up to 116th African. The one drop rule shows what flimsy facade that argument was. Especially when you had freed Africans living in the same areas as the plantations. One of the most pivotal points in the book was when Frederick first moves to Baltimore and his then sweet mistress teachers him to read. Her husband is horrified and rightly says that if you teach a slave to read, he will educate himself and become unsatisfied with his station in life. This is exactly what happens. The admittance that knowledge will create unrest is proof enough that they knew the bondage they were keeping these people in was wrong. Frederick notes that slave holders on the farms and plantations encouraged their “chattel” to be debauched and unproductive on what little holiday time they had, because they wanted to use it as proof that Negros were lazy people. They provided excessive amounts of alcohol in hopes of getting them all extremely drunk and claiming that their enforced labor was protecting them from their own dangerous proclivities. It was a disturbing book, it was not a fun read, but it also showed that the same mentality that created and entrenched slavery still exists in the United States today. The zero sum mentality that there must be losers to create winers is a cancer of society. Don’t let anyone use slavery as an example of moral relativism anymore than you would the holocaust. It was wrong and they knew it. Moreover, next time someone is saying that universal healthcare and education are impossible, that a progressive tax on the rich to even the playing field is a bad idea, that people have to lose for others to win, that that’s slaveholder talk. I have moved to a country where there are rich and there are poor, but the poor people all have somewhere to take a shower and get cancer treatment and royalty are down to earth enough that their kids still have playdates with the children of blue collar workers. It’s like board games: there’s a genre called cooperative board games where everyone works together for the desired outcome; we can all win.

[maewestside]

DIPSOS AND THE GIMMIES: PRESIDENT TROLL’S CLASS OF 2017…WHERE ARE THEY NOW? by heidi siegmund cuda, aka @maewestside

I remember when I had my first beer.

I also remember when I had my last. With nearly two decades sans alcohol, maybe that’s why I have clarity to recognize the maladies of the dipsomaniacs, zapoys and gimmies surrounding President Troll. Upon closer scrutiny, there’s no shortage of DWIs, drug allegations, assault charges, money-love and drinking games linked to affiliates of this current White House. Clearly, being loaded probably helps lackeys justify their lackings. Truth, being the most lacking. Me, I’m just lactose intolerant. Truly, I love everyone. 

But with the avalanche of lies spewed forth this weekend by President Troll and on Vichy MSM (which just can’t seem to get over its addiction of giving facetime to stooge$), I feel it’s helpful to stay rooted in reality and offer up sobering facts to calm one’s noives. Thus, reducing the need for the general public to imbibe, toke, sniff or pop to battle the sour ennui of witnessing a president* battle PDS (Putin Derangement Syndrome, an ailment first diagnosed by Simon Tisdall of the Guardian).

To counter the ever relentless and mutating phony narratives, here’s a roundup of the goings of some of President Troll’s erstwhile staffers and advisors. Whether they suffer from spiritual or physical maladies, may they get well soon.

SCOTT PRUITT: The former head of the Environmental Protection Agency spent the better part of the year defending the GOP’s “freedom to pollute,” (catchphrase, courtesy Paul Krugman), justifying his first class travels and cheap digs rented from a top energy lobbyist. Embroiled in myriad lawsuits, Pruitt submitted his resignation in July after multiple corruption investigations. EPA staff now have to figure out what to do with his $43k private phone booth. Washington Post reports Pruitt allegedly made only one outgoing call to the White House on his fancy phone. Score one for the “fiscal conservatives.” Alas, Pruitt will likely go down in history as the worst choice for one of the most important offices in America. 

REX TILLERSON: It seemed a good fit: an oil industry captain as Secretary of State (lol), until Tillerson went rogue by backing the British government’s findings that Russia was guilty in the nerve agent attack in the U.K. That’s when Putin’s Apprentice went full nutter and fired Tillerson…on Twitter, which is where the former Exxon CEO learned of his dismissal. Those who would like to congratulate Tillerson for calling the president* a “moron,” can find him hosting a charity ball next month, with events taking place at Billy Bob’s Texas in Fort Worth and the Fairmont Dallas.

MICHAEL FLYNN: President Obama warned Trump not to hire Flynn. The rest is tragic history. Flynn, who forever will be haunted for leading a chorus of “Lock Her Ups,” is awaiting sentencing after pleading guilty to the FBI. The shortest serving National Security Advisor, Flynn admitted he had discussed Russian sanctions with the country’s Ambassador during the transition, after it had been disclosed. Currently, the three-star lieutenant general is cooperating with Special Counsel Robert Mueller in his ongoing probe of Russia’s interference in the 2016 election.

MICHAEL COHEN: Trump’s former personal lawyer just surrendered to the FBI today and no matter how President Troll tries to spin it, it’s bleak news for Trump Inc. Cohen reached a plea agreement with prosecutors investigating payments he made to women on behalf of Trump: pleaded guilty to eight counts and said he made illegal campaign contributions "in coordination and at the direction of a candidate for federal office." Cohen's lawyer, Lanny Davis, said Cohen had "testified under oath that Donald Trump directed him to commit a crime." Wow. And a disturbing tweet from Cohen a few days before Christmas in 2015 did not age particularly well. He Tweeted: “@HillaryClinton when you go to prison for perjury, your room and board will be free!” 12/19/2015. And so, here we are. Another carny en route to the Big House.

PAUL MANAFORT: Trump’s former campaign manager is in jail for witness tampering, while awaiting a jury verdict in the first of two trials for conspiracy against the United States, making false statements, money laundering, failing to disclose lobbying efforts on behalf of foreign entities and tax fraud. To truly understand the tragedy that is the rise and fall of Paul Manafort, check out “Russia, Are You Listening” with Matt Bevan on ABC Australia: http://www.abc.net.au/radio/programs/russia-if-youre-listening/paul-manafort-the-dictators-fixer/9924894. Working with dictators of questionable integrity appears to be his sweet spot, and clearly, the money was never enough. THIS JUST IN: Jury found Manafort guilty on eight counts. Whispers of a pardon already fluttering in the air.

GARY COHN: In an effort to drain the swamp, Trump hired the president of Goldman Sachs to be his top economic advisor. Cohn, who stepped down after a year and is credited with helping to steer the massive tax cuts, reportedly resigned over Trump’s steel and aluminum tariffs, which Cohn opposed. Cohn, the former chief operating officer and president of Goldman Sachs, is currently unemployed. He was replaced by Larry Kudlow, whose well documented past with substance abuse resulted in his firing from Bear Stearns but didn’t get in the way of obtaining security clearance in the Trump administration.

STEVE BANNON: Referred to as a “parasite” in search of a host by a former Breitbart colleague in USA Today, Bannon has been on a global populist tour, acquiring facetime anywhere he can get it. The former Chief Strategist for the White House, the former executive chairman of Breitbart, the co-founder of the former Cambridge Analytica and the former husband of a third wife accused of smuggling drugs into a prison, Bannon is not exactly winning. You wouldn’t know that, however, if you tuned into MSNBC or ABC News or the New York Times or the Hill or NPR or CNBC or Newsweek etcetera over the last couple of days. Vichy MSM is falling all over itself to give the gasbag coverage. A petition is trying to ban him from stepping foot into the U.K., and billionaire Robert Mercer, who aided and abetted Bannon’s wingding aphorisms by funding the hacks of Cambridge Analytica and the spreading of hate rhetoric along the disinformation highway, is no longer bankrolling him. Although he’s been trying to find a new sponsor and continues his Leni Riefenstahl film career, he’s been publicly rejected by rightwing Euro-fascists.

ROGER STONE: The longtime friend and former advisor to the president* has indicated he is the unnamed source in Mueller’s latest indictment, and eight of his associates have now been interviewed by Robert Mueller’s team of prosecutors. Although he’s backpedaled on comments that he met with Julian Assange and had insider knowledge of the DNC hack, Stone acknowledged trading messages with Guccifer 2.0, which according to the Mueller indictment, is a front for Russian intelligence officers.

GEORGE PAPADOPOULOS: This sordid tale starts in a bar with Papadopoulos, a former foreign policy advisor to the Trump campaign. Whilst drinking in London, Papadopoulos told Alexander Downer, Australia's top diplomat to the UK, that Russia had dirt on Hillary Clinton. Papadopoulos soon thereafter struck a plea deal with Mueller's office, admitting to one count of lying to the FBI. He is now awaiting sentencing, with Mueller recommending six months.

OMAROSA MANIGAULT NEWMAN: As Sean Spicer, Anthony Scaramucci and Hope Hicks have learned, being a member of the Trump Admin isn’t exactly an enhancement on one’s resume. Manigault Newman one upped her former colleagues by going bigly. She didn’t just write a book and do the circuit, she kept receipts and is dropping them daily. I knew how much trouble America was in when moments after the 2016 Electoral College Victory Heist was announced, the Hollywood Reporter printed an “exclusive” feature on Manigault Newman’s elevator ride with Trump to accept the real fake presidency*. In the article, she threatened those who would not submit to Herr Trump, and I knew we were in for a long, ugly haul to regain the dignity of our country. Since no one who seeks redemption is beyond salvation, score one for reformed trolls everywhere.

HONORABLE MENTION:

ANDY PUZDER: I used to tell Andy I was his only friend in the media, so of course, he blocked me. Truly, I begged him not to hitch his star to the pageant guy, because I knew there was no way it would end well. He ultimately withdrew his nomination for Labor Secretary after allegations of abuse serviced, allegations he denies. A vocal supporter of Trump on the campaign trail, Puzder is now the former CEO of Carl’s Jr. and is currently promoting his latest book, “The Capitalist Comeback.” As someone who once produced and hosted a business series, the bottom line in the long run: it’s integrity that’s bankable.

***

There’s a theory that everything Trump touches turns to poo, unless Russia is picking up the tab (see Zembla docs on “The Dubious Friends of Donald Trump” for clarification). It’s understandable why a six-time bankrupt mob patsy would have allegiance to his providers de rubles, so calling former staffers ugly names and slandering our top intelligence agents is simply part of his job requirements as Putin’s Apprentice.

Yet as ugly as this divide in our country is, I am a firm believer that this too shall pass. We’ve weathered ugly before as a country, when that lame duck Buchanan was our president. Buchanan did nothing to prevent a country divided and handed over the keys to the White House to Abraham Lincoln with a shrug, leaving Lincoln to clean up his mess. It’s been awhile since the American people were tested and we were broadsided by Russia’s long game. It’s up to us now to save the republic, and I’m staying close to the truth and those who provide it.

To quote that great philosopher Winnie the Pooh from “Christopher Robin,” it appears I’ve come to the end of my thoughts.

Bottom’s up.

****

Author Heidi Siegmund Cuda is a veteran investigative reporter, screenwriter, activist and mother.

#trumprussia #whitehousestaff #whitehouse #trumpcabinet #wherearetheynow #election2016 #Russianelectioninterference #russiaifyourelistening #abcaustralia #maewestside #heidicuda #heidisiegmundcuda

[katherinemacgill-blog]

The Helen Keller Guide To Joy and happiness

You may possess all that, and also you can easily experience every one of that; and you could begin to possess this today, beginning today. Observing you deal with the breakup therefore well will make your ex-spouse understand he overlooks you like crazy. Below are some carry out's and carry out n'ts to maintain in thoughts if you prefer to follow their lead and find out how to create an individual loss in love with you. Those crazy emotional states that you believe due to your fears require not define you. I figured out through cooking games that to make an excellent sushi, make sure that the fish is actually quite fresh (as this is actually eaten raw). Nevertheless, he or she is the just one which knows which individuals must be there to make this affair especially significant. He'll chase you considering that you never ever make him feel smothered and he recognizes you're certainly not simply wrapped around his finger. When you do not possess even a little oz of freedom in your life, that is actually inconceivable to come to be genuinely satisfied. Seeing dad throughout our childhood our experts know ways to create our method the irritated race. Joy and happiness resembles a muscle - this obtains stronger the more you exercise it. Maintaining on your own satisfied is like remaining in shape. If there's anything else I can possibly do to earn this fic extra available whatsoever, satisfy don't hesitate to email me at iaminarage @ or notification me on tumblr (where I'm likewise iaminarage). The key listed below is to become knowledgeable about that void and then pick the feedback that will make certain you are in control from your emotions and actions. I might be pleased as a result of my position and also not concern my conditions. If you liked this article and you would like to be given more info concerning yellow pages online advertising (rulesfor2017new.info) please visit our web site. Ask your kids, Exactly what can I perform to make you feel loved?" You'll be amazed to hear what youngsters think. I meant a guy which is actually label is ASTROLOGER AHMED he is definitely strong and can assist designate spells to restore one's gone, shed, acting up fanatic and magic loan incantation or spell for a great work or luck spellI'm right now happy & a residing testimony cos the guy i had actually would like to wed nigh side me 3 weeks just before our wedding and my lifestyle was inverted given that our connection has actually goned on for 3years. The outcome is that you might not be capable to possess a happy life if you are actually certainly not able to have a penile erection. Giving him opportunity to gear up for the sexual activity by definition will definitely make the meet feel like greater than an obligation or even regular routine to carry out. I entirely agree with you Esther, this is no person else's project to create you happy but your own. This offers some sizzling recipes like Grilled Mahi, Shrimp Jumbo Shrimp Scampi, Spanish Paella, Pot Seared Atlantic Salmon, Cuban Braised Fish, and also Veal Piccata etc I thought that the secrets I do will definitely bring in folks ask yourself as well as that is not therefore important exactly what I point out. I regularly aim to instruct folks on my blog and also posts to become unbiased and certainly not to make any sort of limitation on their own. Chocolate peanut butter no bake cookies make fantastic grandparents presents, educator presents, birthday celebration presents, thanks presents and additional. After the celebration has been actually kept, customized fixed is actually perfect for thank-you notes. Whatever that our company are for ... love, leave, peace, kindness, happiness, inspires us, as well as every thing that our team are against ... hate, rage, doubt, concern, damages our team. Currently choose: HAPPY or even UNHAPPY. Over my life, 53, I complied with individuals which were quite wealthy, yet they were no therefore satisfied as my Associates, Engineers, Laborers and Business Partners, which created their excellence and also contentment continuously and improving slowly. You could make use of customized stationery as invites to a gathering such as this, or to a garage sale or even event. As a matter of fact, these tasks usually produce people miserable (unless your center is in just what you perform). For example, if you are expecting a lover to find in to your life to be happy then you are perhaps focused on just what the sensation will certainly feel like when you meet your soul mate and just how your life will be various after that that is right currently. This could appear a little weird, but think of this momentarily ... you really want additional money since you feel it will definitely make you pleased. Just what occurred to me is certainly not just what i can easily always keep only to on my own however to additionally say to the planet to make sure that those that were actually the moment like me will arrive love ones back and mored than happy once again. You will begin to view the planet in unfavorable phrases and also you are going to actually often draw in even more factors to earn you miserable. Before rumbling the algae as well as the rice, make certain that the algae is actually put on a wooden mat utilized to roll the sushi (All these could be carried at the closest Japanese convenience store). To get begun you must decide to make happiness a priority in your life. This does not indicate I dismiss exactly what is actually happening, however does indicate I can administer my electricity about it in a different way, from an extra religious perspective, while I produce my very own type of addition, which is actually writing just what I carry out, as well as just about anything else I receive ideas to accomplish, including being actually an instance whenever I can, specifically when I may removal on my own out of self-pride and also right into cooperation, empathy, and also love. Understanding how to keep a woman happy will certainly call for creating an initiative to present an interest in your woman's power base. If you want a stylish event, make certain that the backdrop is actually formal but exquisite. I truly believe that possessing a songs special day party theme for junior is actually an excellent concept that will definitely be a great time. Add these practical, simple Spanish phrases into your talked Spanish and also you'll illustrate you have the necessary high quality from educado and also you'll make a succeeding perception when talking Spanish with indigenous audio speakers without a doubt! You will certainly locate that it will be actually tough not to become pleased with your shower after you permit on your own to view as well as feel how fantastic your shower really is for you! Add new, totally free internet material to your website such as most up-to-date write-ups, web resources, as well as estimates along with a singular part of code! For additional friendship quotes, look into the prominent friendly relationship quotes segment of, an internet site that provides services for 'Best 10' checklists from estimates in lots of classifications. A poll finished by Gardeners Globe Journal mentioned that 80% from those that gardened thought delighted and happy along with their lifestyles as compared to 67% of those which did certainly not garden. Books along with spins, delighted endings, disasters and also in some cases without any finishing whatsoever. Comprise a trivia exam for your visitors, using unfamiliar realities or even events from the birthday party guy or even girl's lifestyle. That might be your concern, you are actually trying to make him go back rather than making him intend to come back. Chuckling really is the greatest medicine and also to become a delighted person you must laugh. There are actually still a lot of traits to stress over, as well as lots of selections to create as each decision will certainly identify how your CDs are going to offer. Send out invitations to a celebration; commemorate your nation and even more along with customized stationery created the celebration.

[flauntpage]

No, Gisele Didn't Reveal the Pats Are Cheaters This Week

Welcome to the NFL Underground Mailbag. Ask Chris Harris your question about the NFL, general sports or cultural minutiae at [email protected] . Follow him @HarrisFootball .

Zachary W.: Does Gisele outing Tom Brady's concussion(s) from last season confirm the Patriots are cheaters?

For the uninitiated, Brady's wife Gisele gave an interview to Charlie Rose in which she let slip that she thinks about her husband retiring because football is violent and because he suffered at least one concussion in 2016 and, she stammeringly implied, others throughout his career.

Is the potential "cheating" outrage here that the Patriots didn't list Brady on the injury report, and doing so might've changed defensive approaches against him ("For God's sake, hit him on the head with that anvil!")? Is the outrage that the Pats subverted the on-field concussion-evaluation rule, so his rightful place was on the sidelines rather than generating the greatest comeback in NFL history?

I get that some people equate Brady/Belichick/Kraft/Patriots with Trump, and view New England's fifth title as proof that there's no God. But at some point, aren't we doing the same the kind of insane dot-connecting and selective reasoning that sends us up a tree about Trump? In our hearts, we assume everybody in the NFL suffers concussions, everybody in the NFL plays whilst needle-prodded by Toradol, and everybody in the NFL does HGH. We know this. So why do some folks—not necessarily Zachary, but some folks—let this stuff make them crazy?

When the dots get connected. Photo by Greg M. Cooper-USA TODAY Sports

A quarterback who's been sacked 417 times in his career and played 9,167 career NFL snaps, like Brady has, has suffered tons of concussions. It's axiomatic. One reason Brady is the greatest of all time is he's such a maniac that he doesn't ever come off the field unless his ACLs snap.

I grew up in Boston and can't help my own Patriots fandom. I thoroughly acknowledge that if I'd had a choice in the matter, I would hate them and root against them, as we all root against dynasties and arrogant-seeming out-of-market teams and players. But the easiest way to appear an idiot is to say, "They're cheaters, everything they ever won is tainted!" rather than acknowledge they're great. I loathed the Yankee dynasty of the 1990s, but do I run around screaming about Jeffrey Maier and Chuck Knoblauch's phantom tag and Tino Martinez taking strike three? I don't, because it's obvious that Yankee team was the best of its era and one of the best ever, and I prefer not to appear a fool. The extent to which a person engages in conspiracy theories in sports is a pretty good IQ test.

Ted F.: Why is NFL in-game announcing so bad? Will it get better with high-profile former players moving into the broadcast booth?

It's not all bad. Many of the play-by-play guys are a delight. Off the top of my head, I enjoy Al Michaels, Ian Eagle, Kevin Harlan, and, lately, Kevin Burkhardt. Cris Collinsworth is an astonishing analyst. I guess some viewers just don't like smart people, but Collinsworth never ceases to amaze me: he'll see something in real time that's unique and insightful and hard to notice, and alert us to keep it in mind as we watch the replay, and damn if he isn't right a lot of the time.

But let's face it: Collinsworth is the exception, because ex-players and ex-coaches are almost universally a scourge on intelligent analysis.

When you're an exception to the rule. Photo by Tim Fuller-USA TODAY Sports

They fall back on clichés. They hammer predetermined narratives. Most importantly, they shy away from criticizing players. Jon Gruden blows so much sunshine up our national skirt on Monday nights, I'm surprised we all don't shit rainbows.

But I guess there's your answer: the average fan doesn't want insight. He or she wants comfort. How else do you explain the appeal of terminally edgeless Jim Nantz? In some quarters of our narcotized culture, appearing smart is a cardinal sin. (It was once relayed to me that, speaking about my TV career, one higher-up in production at ESPN said, "Nobody likes the smartest guy in the room.") And if the average viewer doesn't care about—or actively eschews!—learning, why not increase your broadcast's Q-rating with some lovable doofus saying, "Turnovers certainly derailed their opportunity to play at a high level on offense."

Will Tony Romo joining CBS change any of this? Of course not! Romo is universally known as a nice guy, he's friends with everyone in the league, and he and Nantz will almost certainly fall all over each other to say things like "They can measure how fast you run and how high you jump, but they can't measure your heart."

I guess I give Jay Cutler a slight chance to be better, because I'm pretty sure he has no friends in or out of the NFL.

Kyle P.: Weather-wise, what's your favorite season?

Most of the year, I live in the hellscape of western Massachusetts, where apparently we've decided we're way too hearty to need wimpy transitional trappings like "spring" or "fall." I spent the winter in Los Angeles (more on that in a moment) and returned April 29, whereupon it rained here for three weeks and never got above 50. Suddenly we got to Wednesday and it was 93. As far as I can tell, the world has menopause.

(Incidentally, those who would tell you that a native population's ability to withstand shitty weather is some indication of character and backbone are the same people who tell you The Fountainhead really kicks into high gear around page 600. Do not listen to these people.)

Fortunately, I work from home and am somewhat personally unlovable (therefore I have no wife or children), and thus I have nothing that forces me to endure what is no doubt objectively the shittiest season in northern climates: winter. Often, therefore, I go someplace warm for the winter and have a grand old time.

So, perversely, I'll say my favorite season is winter, because I can run and hide.

When you're in hiding. Photo by Timothy T. Ludwig-USA TODAY Sports

Lance A.: Why is the NFL really about to shorten the length of its overtime ? It's not actually about player safety, right?

Hm. I assume not?

After all, the entire league seems designed for the express purpose of destroying its labor force. These are the same owners who are barreling headlong toward an 18-game regular season. So this is probably evil.

Possible evil angles:

* More ties will trigger obscure stadium-finance clauses that require local municipalities to pay for chocolate fondue fountains in owners' luxury suites.

* More ties will allow Vegas wise guy with incriminating Mark Davis photos to collect on "There will be more ties this season than Pacman Jones arrests" wager.

* More ties will make Donovan McNabb cry.

Jon: LeGarrette Blount to the Eagles. Winning combo?

Hm. I assume not?

Aptly nicknamed "LB," the hefty Blount gained notoriety as a T.J. Duckett–esque fantasy football hero last season, serving as Tom Brady's goal-line caddie. Unfortunately, he's not actually very good at playing football. Heck, until his Patriots days, he hadn't even been very good at short-yardage rushing, even at 250-plus pounds:

Really, though, numbers don't do Blount's trash-baggery justice.

I've watched him with great rooting interest over portions of the past four seasons, and he's fairly certain he's Warrick Dunn. Too often, he turns his shoulders perpendicular to the play and starts lumbering toward the sideline, only to be tripped up by faster (read: every) defensive players. The dude is a frontrunner's frontrunner. If you're up by two touchdowns? Blount is your guy. But if you need him in a tight road game against Denver, he vanishes.

If I'm an Eagles fan, most worrisome is this:

There's a reason the Patriots signed Mike Gillislee, traded for Rex Burkhead, and renewed James White instead of keeping the man who just gave them 18 TDs. It's because they know Blount is 30 and not good. I don't begrudge the Eagles taking a shot. If Carson Wentz is ready to make a big leap behind a good offensive line, maybe Philly will need a close-in TD machine.

But it's likelier that Blount gets caught blazing in Wendell Smallwood's SUV.

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