#CountryMusic
CMT 4-1-23
So today I will be bringing you the Hottest 20 Country Music Videos for the week of 4/1/23 from CMT (Country Music Television). So let's get started right now.
Number 20 belongs to Kelsea Ballerini who is new to the list this week - IF YOU GO DOWN (I'M GOIN' DOWN TOO).
Number 19 belongs to Lainey Wilson who is dropping 3 spots this week - Heart like a truck.
Number 18 belongs to Randy Houser who is moving up 1 spot this week - Note to self.
Number 17 belongs to Parmalee who are moving up 1 spot this week - Girl in mine.
Number 16 belongs to Shane Profitt who is dropping 4 spots this week - How it oughta be.
Number 15 belongs to Megan Moroney who is moving up 2 spots this week - Tennessee orange.
Number 14 belongs to Tyler Hubbard who is moving up 1 spot this week - Dancin' in the Country.
Number 13 belongs to Scotty McCreery who is moving up 1 spot this week - It matters to her.
Number 12 belongs to Dan + Shay who are moving up 1 spot this week - You.
Number 11 belongs to Keith Urban who is staying in the same spot as last week - Brown eyes baby.
Number 10 belongs to Parker McCollum who is staying in the same spot as last week - Handle on you.
Number 9 belongs to Carrie Underwood who is staying in the same spot as last week - Hate my heart.
Number 8 belongs to Corey Kent who is dropping 1 spot this week - Wild as her.
Number 7 belongs to Cody Johnson who is moving up 1 spot this week - Human.
Number 6 belongs to Sam Hunt who is dropping 1 spot this week - Water under the bridge.
Number 5 belongs to Blake Shelton who is moving up 1 spot this week - No body.
Number 4 belongs to Dierks Bentley who is staying in the same spot as last week - Gold.
Number 3 belongs to Hardy featuring Lainey Wilson who are dropping 2 spots this week - wait in the truck.
Number 2 belongs to Carly Pearce who is moving up 1 spot this week - What he didn't do.
Number 1 belongs to Bailey Zimmerman who is moving up 1 spot this week to take the top - Rock and a hard place.
And that's a wrap for the Hottest 20 Country Music Videos for the week of 4/1/23 from CMT (Country Music Television). Thanks as always goes out to CMT for doing their weekly Country Music Video Countdowns. And thanks as well goes out to you for taking the time to read this weekly list. See ya all next time.
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Note To Self, A Truck Only Goes So Far On Half A Tank
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader One-Shot
Word Count: 1.8K
Warnings: Explicit Language, Blood and Wounds
Author's Note: Oh my God and they were patient and doctor! (All parts to this story will have lyrics of Randy Houser's "Note To Self") -Thorne
**********************************************************************
It was a seemingly quiet day in the clinic, how she liked it. Quiet meant no bleeding soldiers, no wounds, no worries. She could focus on maintenance, making sure her supplies were in order, and caring for her facility. Being recruited into the 141 wasn’t what she’d expected. She’d expected a tent in the middle of the desert, tools that reminded her of the American Civil War, and comforting soldiers who knew they weren’t making it home.
Instead, she was nestled in a tiny, fifteen by thirty room, black-gray walls made of metal and reinforced with concrete, LED lights overhead in a single row that lit up the room and shadowed the rest that didn’t catch, they even had a bulb that flickered every so often. A little too cold for her taste, only two windows on either side that let in what little sunshine England offered, but it did the job. It wasn’t great, but there were worse places to heal in. From her desk in the back left corner, she saw all who entered before they came in. It was, of decent surprise, when Sergeant MacTavish entered with Lieutenant Riley in tow.
She glanced over the rim of her laptop at the two soldiers, one trying to shake off the other, while the one is trying to hold him. “Doc,” he called. “A little help?”
“Might I suggest asking politely, Sergeant MacTavish?” she offered, not bothering to rise from her seat.
He frowned. “Doc, Ghost is bleeding.”
“I can see that. That being said, I’m no one to be ordered around. Ask me again. Politely.”
His jaw clenched. “Doctor. Would you please assist us by not letting one of our best soldiers bleed out?”
“I’d be happy to. It’d be a shame for such a soldier to go to waste,” she chirped, rising from her chair. “Bring him to the bed.”
“I’m fine standing,” Ghost muttered.
“Lieutenant Riley, are you a medical officer or professional?” she awaited his answer. “Lieutenant, I asked you a question. Answer me.”
“No,” he spat out.
“Then you will not be making the decisions on how I treat you. On the bed. Now.” As he sat down, he peeled off his jacket and lifted his shirt, letting her look at it. “Looks like you were stabbed. Needs stitches from what I can see.”
“It didn’t hit any major organs,” he said. “Just give me a shot and I can stitch myself up.”
She shot him a look. “Did I not just explain that you will not tell me how to do my job?” He fell silent, glaring at her and she started gathering her supplies, and putting on gloves.
“Sorry about that, LT,” Soap winced, scratching the back of his head. “Didn’t mean to.”
“I’m not bothered,” he replied. “Good strike.” He didn’t even wince as she wiped the area down with alcohol.
“Thanks. I remembered how yo—”
“Sergeant MacTavish, are you bleeding?”
He blinked in shock. “I—uh, no.”
“Are you in immediate danger of perishing?”
“I…don’t think so?”
“Are you awaiting a prescription from me?”
“No ma’am.”
“Then why are you still standing in the middle of my clinic?” she inquired. “The door’s there. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.”
Soap rolled his eyes and gave Ghost a look before turning on his heel. “Christ, what a fuckin’ nag,” he griped, loud enough under his breath for her to hear.
She wasn’t bothered in the slightest. She’d heard worse from her own mother.
As he left, she pulled the curtain around Ghost’s bed, blocking them from view. “This is a shot of lidocaine,” she explained, sticking into his side. “It’s going to block the pain while I check the deepness of the wound and stitch you up. If you feel it beginning to fade, let me know and I’ll prepare another round.”
He grunted in return and she took it as a go ahead; she took a cotton swab and stuck it down into the wound before pulling it out. “Five deep. Given the location, it just cut through tissue and muscle beneath. No major organs.”
She set to stitching. “You’re quite lucky, Lieutenant. This could’ve been a lot worse had it been closer to your intestines.”
Another grunt.
As she pulled the thread taut, she tied it and cut the remaining length. “That should do it. Let me—where do you think you’re going?”
Ghost started to rise from the bed. “Back to my quarters. I hate hospitals.”
“Firstly, this isn’t a hospital, secondly, no, you’re not,” she retorted, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You will sit in this bed until I give you discharge to leave.”
“I don’t take orders from you. You’re USN not SAS.”
“True, we’re different militaries and no, you don’t take orders from me, but I am higher rank than you. Lay down.”
Ghost stared at her, daring her. “Gonna pull that rank, Doc?” It felt threatening.
She leaned down, getting right in his face and growled, “Lieutenant Simon Riley, hardly ever do I have to pull rank with the men and women I treat day to day. The respect I command in this clinic is the same respect given. Do not make me pull rank on you because I will take you to see the Skipper, and let me tell you, he’ll be unhappy to see me, but more so to see you in tow.” Her eyes narrowed. “Lay down. I won’t tell you again.”
They stared on another down and then he huffed through his nose, laying back on the bed. “Whatever you say, Doc.”
As she started to clean, she pulled over a BP machine and thermometer. “Remove your mask.” He lifted it above his lips. “Open.” He let her stick the metal under his tongue as she slipped the cuff around his arm and put the pulse oximeter on his ring finger. She watched the monitor for a few moments, then it beeped, and her expression pinched. “Temp’s two over a hundred. Hmm…little high for my taste.” As she pulled the cuff off, she added, “BP’s ninety-five over sixty-two. Pulse is forty-one. These sound about average?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” She removed all the wires and such, leaning over him with a flashlight. “Follow my finger,” she said, holding up a finger. “Pupils are reactive. Any pain? Headache? Discomfort?”
“No.”
She frowned. “I’d like to give you an IV of fluid to rehydrate you and dose you with some extra strength ibuprofen for now.”
“I’m fine, Doc, it’s just a stab wound. I’m not dying.” He started to rise, and she put her hand on his shoulder.
“Be that as it may, I am your acting doctor. At least until your fever breaks.”
“If I leave are you going to chase me back to my quarters?”
“Bold of you to assume you’ll even get off the bed.”
Seeing as he was stuck either way, Ghost let out a heavy sigh and lay back down, holding out his arm. “Just don’t stick me a shit-ton of times, yeah?”
“I’m good at my job, thank you very much,” she retorted and readied him.
He watched her. “You don’t cuss.”
“No, I don’t,” she said. “It’s for those who have a lack of vocabulary. Besides, I’m also a lady. It’s unladylike to use foul language.”
“How are you such a high toff in the military?”
“I’m assuming ‘toff’ isn’t a compliment.” She stuck the needle in. “I went to college and got my doctorate. I decided to use it to make a difference.”
“Do you feel like you’re doing it? You’re stuck with a bunch of SAS taking the piss on each other.”
“I’m patching you up, aren’t I?” she replied. “One of the best SAS soldiers this world has apparently.”
As he watched the fluid seep down the line, he started to feel drowsy after a while, lids beginning to droop, and the last thing he remembered was her pulling the curtain behind her as she left.
***
He was awakened by a damp towel being placed on his forehead and he reached up, grabbing the wrist of whoever was touching him in an iron-clad grasp; a gasp escaped them. “Lieutenant, it’s me!”
“Where’s my mask.”
“Right here,” she calmly said, and he looked, squinting in the dark to see it there on the table. “Your fever rose in the night, so I removed it. Now let go, or I’ll break your hand in three different places.” He let her go and sat back, watching her like a hawk.
“How long have I been out?”
“A few hours.”
“How long?”
“Since thirteen-hundred. It’s twenty-one-hundred now.”
“I’ve missed meetings.”
She shoved him back. “Do you ever stop being so headstrong? Captain Price knows you’re here. He told me to take care of you. Relax.”
“I could’ve handled myself,” he retorted. “It was a fever.”
“I’m beginning to learn you don’t like being told what to do.”
“No shit.”
“Watch your language, Lieutenant. This isn’t a bar, it’s a clinic for healing the wounded. You will treat it with respect.”
“That horse ever get too high?”
“Only when soldier like you think they’re indestructible,” she replied and wiped the sweat on his brow. “I don’t understand what it is about men like you. Think you’re beyond basic medical care. It’s like inhaling fumes from paint and wasting already rare brain cells.”
“That’s the most exhaustingly long way I’ve been called an idiot.”
Her lips curled up in a smile and Ghost felt something funny in his gut as she laughed quietly. “I never said that, Lieutenant.”
“Mhm.”
She looked at him. “How’s the wound?”
“Fine.”
“Lieutenant.”
“It stings.”
“I’ll prepare another lidocaine injection.”
He grabbed her coat, watching as she cocked a brow and looked between his hand and eyes. “I’m fine, Doc. Really. It’s not bothering me.”
“I’ll make you a deal. You sleep here until zero-five-hundred, and I’ll quit doctoring you, okay?”
Ghost let go of her white coat and held out his hand. “Shake on it.”
“Alright, soldier,” she said, shaking his hand firmly. “Now get some more rest.”
***
When she woke, the lights were off in the clinic, rays of light coming in from the small windows in the room. She looked over to where Ghost should’ve been, the curtain pulled back, the bed empty and made with fresh sheets.
“Can’t ever get them to stay still,” she muttered, starting to rise when she saw a note on the bedside table there; she picked it up and read it.
Sorry for the bruise. Hope this helps. -G
She turned her wrist, sure enough seeing a purplish-black bruise in the form of a hand-print on her skin; her eyes found the tube of menthol pain cream. She smiled. I guess he’s not so cold after all.
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I know this blog is for Demri's career, but I'd like to know something about her personal life. What was her relatioship with the other AIC members? And their girlfriends? Do you know? Thank you very much, you have a lovely blog here, very underrated, I hope more people find it and share it, as sadly today Demri is more remembered bc her Layne/AIC connexion or drugs than for her own careers.
I actually don't know, there's very few photos of Demri with AIC members or their girlfriends.
This is the only photo of her with the band (plus girlfriends that no one seems to recognize, from the 1991 MTV Awards). They look all in friendly terms:
She was touring with the band when they were opening for Van Halen. She stopped doing that when it became "an issue" (so I've read, I suppose it means drugs).
There's some photos of Demri with Sean Kinney (aka the funny drummer), from 1990 and 1991:
And one with Mike Starr, from 1991 as well... shared by fan Mike Anderchek @anderchekmike:
She was also close to his sister Melinda (in 1988 by Randy Houser):
No photos with Jerry, aka "The Riff Lord" (who was the closest to Layne, like matching tattoos, lived together before AIC signed in, etc), but with one of his girlfriends at a time (he dated multiple women, saying he doesn't believe in monogamy), Krisha Augerot. They actually worked together, so maybe Krisha met Jerry through Demri?
Krisha (and Jerry, but not in this photo) would join Demri and Layne with Fabiola and other friends for drumming circles at Magnuson Park. This is from 1989 (all the info here...):
Demri also joined AIC in 1992 when took regufee at theJoshua Tree park flying over the LA riots after the murder of Rodney King by the police. I've just seen pics of Demri and Layne,no other band members or their couples.
I don't know anything about Mike Inez, he replaced Mike Starr in 1993, but I don't think she was close to him...
It would be interesting to know more about her friendship with the band and the other girlfriends. I'm pretty sure when they were touring together the women had so fun visiting all these cool places and cheering backstage or, in Demri's case, front row!
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