#Also having your family member free your old tech is something weird

[iddybittysnail]

She's in here too, too much things over her can't free her.

[floraltypes]

Ohshc Headcannon

OHSHC - Y/n in a uncomfortable situation head-cannons

saw someone else do something similar and wanted to put my own spin on it :))

TW: creepy males making y/n uncomfy

gender neutral x host club members

Haruhi 💗

You’ve decided to go visit the girl while she’s working.

She’s busy talking to one of her guests so you decided to wait and sit at one of the couches

One of the men quickly walked over, he was here to drop off some shipments but thinks that now you’re a new host/hostess

He sits across from you, just staring for a moment before striking a conversation

“So, you seem like a cutie, are you new here?”

Your eyes widen a bit, taken aback by his presence and how blunt he was

“I’m not apart of this club,” You awkwardly chuckle, hoping that Haruhi is almost finished because now you are starting to feel uncomfortable

“Good, good, that just means I don’t have to share you with anyone,” They wink, standing up and now sitting besides you

Haruhi, stops her conversation with the girls, hearing that awkward chuckle of yours her head turns

At first, she just thinks your talking with one of the boys, one telling a inappropriate joke and you just trying to be kind

But soon realizes that’s not the case, and excuses herself

Haruhi doesn’t exactly feel jealous, just a bit confused, and frankly worried

She can tell by your apparent facial expressions that you’re also worried yourself

Finding a empty tea tray, she grabs it, and rushes over with it, then taking a seat besides you

“Y/n!” She smiles, handing you a tea cup, not even filled. “I’m glad you waited for me, sorry to waist your time,”

You’re overjoyed she’s here, the man sending you some interesting glares and you didn’t want to cause a scene

“I’ll do better at watching the time. Um, i’m sorry you don’t look familiar,” She looks at the man while taking one of your hands and intertwining it with hers

“Oh, you were waiting for someone?” He asks you. “You should have told me, it was like you were leading me on,” he scoffs, standing up and leaving

Haruhi looks at you with a small smile

“What a jerk, would you like me to make some actual tea now?”

The both of you laugh, you feeling much more comfortable with her being by your side

Tamaki 💞

He was so excited to spend today with you!

You didn’t feel like doing much, just wanting to maybe go to a cafe with the man

He had tons of things planned, zoos, cafes, shopping, musicals, etc

If there was something fun, he had it planned for you two to do soon

After spending half a day planning the dates you’d have when you both had off, today the both of you would go to a pet shop

Tamaki always expressed how much he loved animals, ever since he was able to go to one, and it’s something he still enjoys indulging in

The both of you were outside the shop, he had some money almost spilling out of his wallet, prepared to buy some animals

Leaving you to make sure he doesn’t, or at least doesn’t go overboard...

Once inside the worker set up a room for you two to play with the puppy

Unfortunately, today was a busy day and many people were also coming, so you were paired up with another group of guys

They had a harsher look, not being so friendly, and smelled kind of gross

You weren’t one to judge, sometimes, but something about them gave off a weird feeling

“Gosh, aren’t these puppies adorable!” Tamaki beamed, picking up the little dog into his arms, then bringing it up to his face

“Tamaki, you have to share with the rest of us,” You reminded him, taking the puppy from him and placing it on the ground

The man sat on your other side, quickly went to grab the dog, his hand touching yours a bit

“But Y/n, I didn’t get enough time with him,” He whined, shaking your shoulders a bit while the other men stifled chuckles

“Y/n, that’s a nice name,” The man on your side commented, sending a smile

“Um, thanks,” You just messed with your fingers, not looking at him

“So,” The one man tried to start up a conversation with Tamaki, giving his friend the chance to talk to you

Tamaki knew they were trying to do something, so he made sure to keep a eye on you, making sure you felt okay

“You know, we don’t have plans after this, what if you came and hung out with us?” The man asked you, moving closer

“Sweetie! Don’t forget that you promised to go get ice cream with me after. It’s the perfect end to our date,” Tamaki smiled widely, grabbing your arm and standing up “Ah, I think i’ve seen enough puppies for today,” He put a hand on your cheek and kissed your lips. “Bye now!”

Kyoya 🤍

His father was hosting a dinner party tonight

The Ootori group just opened a new high tech hospital, with the helps of your families business

It was great to see both families interacting well, and felt good to have his father like you, even if you didn’t really like him

Kyoya was thankful that his father was okay with you, worried it would affect his opportunity in being the heir eventually

You were all dressed up for the night, told to keep a smile and kind words the whole time

But you were mostly planning on spending it by Kyoya’s side..

Eventually he was moved away because his father wanted to introduce all his children to a potential business partner

Your family did the same, to a different man, one who kind of seemed to take a particular interest in you

“I love your hair,” The older, 40 year old man complimented you, your father just smiling lightly and soon walking away

“I should go find, uh, Kyoya!” You smiled oddly at the older man, about to walk away

“Wait up handsome/beautiful,” The man wrapped his chubby fingers around your wrist, tugging on it, and pulling you to stand right in front of him

You frantically looked around, your father talking to someone else, and the mans smile was fretting away from friendly

Kyoya had just finished talking to some painting company CEO, someone he could care less about

He wanted to use this time to do things with you, talk more, hear about your day maybe, just see your smile and hear your laughter

Luckily he turned around at the right moment, seeing the man yank you back and his facial feature turning to a wicked expression

He quickly, but respectfully, whisked over, titling his glasses down a bit and reaching a hand across your lower back to wrap around your waist, pulling you into his side

“Darling, who is this?” Kyoya asked, seeing your expression change to a grateful one

“Um, I never caught his name....?”

“It’s Toling, from America,” He smiled at you, his ‘smile’ changing when looking at Kyoya. “You have a boyfriend?”

“And your from America?” Kyoya questioned back, not letting you answer his. “What exactly is your position, my father, Ootori, he also told me no one from out of country would be here. Why are you here? I don’t think you were invited, this seems like a appropriate moment to call security, do you agree, dear?” He looked at you

“Yeah, I think so,” You grinned at him, pecking his cheek while the older man ran off towards the front door.

Hikaru 💓

The two of you heard about this new performance group in the area

They weren’t anything professional but still interested you both, maybe being so bad you could make a couple jokes about it

It started off... well interesting to say the least...

You both couldn’t figure out where it was going, what the overall theme of it was, I mean someone spilt their ‘prop’ on the stage floor

It was a disaster in the beginning, the both of you already having jokes in mind, but being respectful to wait till the end to say them

During the performance a hand intertwined with yours, that being Hikaru’s of course

When it was finished, the both of you had no words, just tears?

You didn’t know when they got there, or how the performance all of a sudden changed sad, but it was there

You got up to walk by a concession area, hoping to purchase a pack of tissues

Someone was behind you in line, and you could just feel their gaze on your behind

“Do you have a pack of tissues on hand?” You asked, pulling out some money and the women handing it to you

“Tissues, I could have given you those for free,” The man behind you smiled. “Now, what’s a attractive kid like you doing here?”

“Watching a show, like everyone else,” You motioned with your hand, taking a tissue and wiping your eyes

“You’re a funny one, sparky. How about I treat you to a meal?”

“No, thanks,” You scratched the back of your head, trying to step away, but him just blocking you

“Come on now,” He chuckled, reaching for your arm before you pulled back.

“Y/n, hey, you got them,” Hikaru pushed past him, planting a longer kiss on your lips and swinging his arm to rest over your shoulders. “Do you mind? We’re on a date,” He told the older man, guiding you away from him. “You okay, that man sure was a idiot trying to take you away from me,”

Kaoru 💝

He was honestly super pumped about getting to spend time with just you

He saw how much his stubborn twin could fall in love with Haruhi and become a better person, to mature, he wanted that with someone and that was you

To say he was nervous, was a understatement, this was your guys’s first date and he wanted it to be great

Sure you had been dating for a while, but still

You both decided on just going to a carnival thing in town

Sounded fun and would let you both get loose a bit, chat about life, truly have a break from everything and everyone

(not everyone, the club was secretly there making sure it went great)

After a long day, and many rides, Kaoru went to go order some food for the both of you while you waited on the bench

“Is this seat taken?” A man around your age questioned, you nodded you head no, and moved over on the bench to give him some space

“Go ahead,”

“Thanks, wow, uh your eyes are really pretty,” He complimented, taking a sip of his drink

“Oh, thanks?” You shyly smiled, tapping you finger on the bench to a beat, waiting for Kaoru to come back

The man kept asking random questions about yourself though, like ‘how old are you’ ‘what do you think of the weather today’ ‘did you like that ride over there?’ it was awkward for you to answer

Kaoru had just bought the food, starting to walk over, but quickly noticing you chatting with the man

He felt, jealous?

This perfect day he was having, and you’re talking to another guy?!

But wait, he remembered his brother talking about really looking at someone’s actions to truly understand, things they say, really paying attention

He soon realized that you weren’t really liking the conversation, your eyes widening after he spoke, slowly returning the comment to him

He whisked over there, honestly just plopping himself in between the two of you, in the (little) empty space

“I, uh, got the food,” He waved it in the air a bit, not spilling it. “You still hungry, babe?”

“Thank you Kaoru, you’re so kind,” You grinned, kissing him on the lips, his cheeks beating up.

“Mhm, let’s go eat somewhere else, just the two of us!”

Mori 💜

Mori and you weren’t big on doing a bunch of stuff for dates

You both mostly ended up at one another’s house, lounging there, maybe a cafe, who knew

But today he kind of wanted you to watch his practice, he was a bit awkward which you noticed quickly

“Takashi, you okay?” You asked him, tapping his shoulder. “What do you want to do today?”

He wanted to straight out say ‘come watch me practice’ but also didn’t want to be inconsiderate of what you wanted to do

He shrugged his shoulders, cracking his knuckles a bit, hoping you got the sign...?

“You know, I haven’t seen you practiced yet, that could be fun!”

He was beaming inside

So it was set, the two of you planning to meet up at the place he practiced at

It was something nice to do, he worked on his moves for a while, you starting some homework but still watching

One of his partners he worked on some of the skills with sat near you

“Hey, what are you working on?” You two chatted a little, trying to be kind, but you knew he was just trying to speed up the small talk into something more fun, for him

“Anyways, I need to focus,” You told him, standing up and getting prepared to move to a different space

“I think you should take a break, what do you say?”

“I can’t, I have a test tomorrow, need to get this done,”

“Don’t be like that, i’ll help you study after our break,” He was slowly/quickly closing the distance between you two

Mori just finished throwing a man, going to have a drink of water and see how you’re doing, but seeing that ‘opponent’ of his flirting with you?

“Y/n,” He walked up, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I’m done here, let’s go,”

You nodded, the man across from you shaken up a bit at the stare Mori sent afterwards

Honey 💛

Honey was babbling about a new cafe that popped up, very VERY excited about it

Apparently it was cute, had a nice seating area, and the BEST cake in town

So, of course, he had to decide that himself

(I think he secretly has a blog online dedicated to trying and critiquing cakes)

He thought this would be a perfect time to catch up and share the lovely moment with

You agreed, wanting to spend time with the boy you liked so much, always enjoying sharing treats with him

After school you both headed right there

The place was nice, and a little packed, since it did just open

You both found a little booth in the back, away from the crowd a bit

Honey ordered, almost, one of every cake they sold

“I’ll just try one of his,” You told the waitress, who looked like her eyes were going to pop out of her head due to Honey’s order

“If you want Y/n-chan!” He smiled at you, soon going into a ramble about one place he bought a bad cake at

Usa-chan also wasn’t pleased with the taste of it

Once a few of the pieces came, he gave you Usa-chan to hold, to make sure he didn’t get dirty

You spent the time, watching him eat cake, feeding him cake, eating some yourself, and chatting about the Host Club

He eventually had to go to the bathroom, telling you he would be right back and to watch Usa-chan

While he left another man came up, figuring you were by yourself

“Aren’t these a lot of treats for you?” He asked, secretly judging you

“I’m sure it’s not your place to decide what’s enough for me,” You scoffed, looking the other way

“And you have a stuffed bear? So cute. Let me buy you something else, for a little kid like you,” He placed some money on the table, trying to reach for Usa-chan

major pedo vibes ....

You moved away from him, not letting his dirty hands touch your boyfriends precious bunny

“Aw come on now,”

“Y/n-chan, let’s go now!” Honey walked over, you climbing out the empty way of the booth, standing near Honey

“Aw you’re here with your brother,” The man cooed, standing up himself.

You grabbed Honey’s hand, not wanting to interact any longer with the man, and leaving the cafe

“Sorry Honey, I- I just really don’t-”

There the man was, he followed the both of you out

He was moving to touch/grab you from behind, Honey quickly noticing and pushing you out of the way a bit

Pulling a classic move, the older man was on the ground

The surrounding crowds were in awe, you were still a bit surprised from his strength sometimes

“That’s not nice, please don’t touch Y/n-chan or I’ll have to call the cops!” He smiled at him, soon grabbing your hand and the two of you walking away like nothing happened

[oblame]

*YEETS IN REGRET*, hello glorious people of gloryhqs. it’s me your chaotic admin, back at it. i promised myself to make this intro like five simple bullet points to present the story then this happened. much regrets. please feel free to proceed to read about freyja & you know where to find me if you want sum plots ( & lovin’ ) !!

just another city in sapphire state, of course, not as glorious as crystalline is. well, not every city has a tech diva to support your area’s economic growth after all.

glass city is where freyja is coming from, wish she could know that too. but knowing that would also mean knowing who she was. a predator.

margot robbie + cisfemale + she/her + emotion manipulation.┊ ❛ ━ hey, is it just me or do you hear picture frames by sophie meiers playing in the distance ? oh, that’s just freyja holtz , a twenty-nine year old manufacturer. according to my sources, i heard she can be a true neutral and is diligent, but also eccentric. that’s probably why they remind everyone of the habit of rumination, hints of sleepless nights, lightweight linen dresses so much ! anyway, whether or not they’re neutral towards the supers, crystalline city is keeping a close eye on them !

WARNINGS:  MENTAL HEALTH TW, DEATH TW, VIOLENCE TW.

known as freyja holtz in crystalline city, a manufacturer working for rohan’s bzzy beez. always has a fragile smile on her face and you can tell she couldn’t sleep well last night from the purple that contours under her eyes. just another human being. -- who could ever imagine ?? that she was the notorious villain of glass city where heroes and villains are more of legends and myths. her real name was diane rodgers, alias lyssa. her alias was picked by the others, her madness made the name daimona of mad rage, fury, crazed frenzy had suitable for her.

( tw : death, violence ) diane was not older than eight when she had to watch all her family members die before her eyes. their death was supposed to be painful, the kind of experience that would make you suffer before your soul separates from your body. but they were salvaged from the pain because diane was there and she made it peaceful for them. out of control and without realization, she has always been a lightning rod of emotions. she sucked all their pain and torment in her own little body without wanting that, what they were supposed to feel as they were tasting death, she had it all flowing within her. it was just too much to handle for a little girl.

( tw : mental health ) the overload using her powers that moment caused changed diane’s life entirely, this major pain, she couldn’t keep it inside. her behaviors and mentality changed from that day and the next thing she knew was how she became a subject for every psychiatrist in glass city. her pain was contagious because of her powers, everyone that tried to treat her had to give up on this little girl as there was simply something unusual about her, hard to cope with. something their literature couldn’t explain. yet it wasn’t possible to tell it was her powers behind the scenes.

( tw : mental health ) as she grew up with a list of mental illnesses she got diagnosed with, everything seemed to get more complicated. her powers were ever so unstable, medication couldn’t really figure it out. her constant hysteria ruled her life.

then she realized, she could only get rid of all that she was trying to tame and hold inside by sharing it with the other people. she almost caused somebody’s death when she managed to transfer her feelings for the very first time. and she didn’t mind. when it happened, all she could feel was the refreshing relief, the elephant sitting on her chest moving a little for once, something none of her several meds managed before. then she started to look for ways, more ways to transfer her emotions to the others. and she became an addict to the feeling of ease that came with the process that was able to save diane from her sadness paradox.

it only went worse when she figured out how to consciously manipulate other's emotions. for her, it was the way to cure herself. she would share the endless sadness in her, the fault her powers caused when she used them to give her family members a peaceful death, and it would make her feel better until the sadness was easily triggered by something again. degradingly, her ways changed. it changed and changed until she reached the point where she started to use people by manipulating their emotions. that was when she became glass city’s notorious villain, lyssa. the mutant who controlled the others until she left them mad or dead. 

she became an urban myth in the smaller city and a figure almost everyone feared. it only stopped when another mutant became a part of her story. a mutant who can manipulate memories. to stop her, they manipulated all diane’s memories, they gave her new ones. where she had the simplest life ever in another place. the memories of her realizing her powers, they were also completely manipulated. they made her a human, made her freyja holtz. they gave her a fresh start because there wasn’t another way to stop her when memories of her family’s death were always alive inside her head like a parasite made of sadness. 

she was left to crystalline city after her memories were altered. what she knows is she always lived a basic happy life in some other city, her parents died a couple of years ago. that she graduated from high school and changed a lot of jobs before coming to crystalline. became just another crystallite, trying to make it in the big city.

the start of her villain story is taken from her with everything else she had as a memory, and without it, she is completely harmless at present. this is definitely some type of twisted butterfly effect, this is the what if story of a villain. ‘what if she had never suffered ??’

sometimes objects, scents, voices, places trigger the feelings of her old memories and another thing she can’t explain when it happens. around other people, she is able to sense their feelings but she is not aware it is something she does. to her, those are just weird tides of feelings washing her over.

her old memories are coming back to her as indistinct nightmares, she is just too frightened by those nightmares, even talking about them makes her feel weird. because who would have nightmares of killing people this frequently ?? she is seeing a therapist regularly and taking meds, again, they don’t really help because of the extraordinary situation she has.     

she is content with her ultimately simple life, happy that rohan is not kicking her out for always being a little bit late to work because nightmares are hard to shake off after waking up. she is totally neutral about the city’s struggles. she might seem like she is daydreaming constantly because she is an avid thinker. looks like she is disconnected from the real world but when you communicate with her, she’s easy to love and get along. some sort of a mirror of what the person before her is feeling. if you approach her nervously, she’ll start feeling that way too. if you approach her with positive feelings, she’ll suddenly feel like her mood is lifted. 

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

why doesn’t the current employment system work?

easy, it’s a half-assed one-solution-fits-all approach made by rich people who have NEVER used the employment search system.

-

How does it work?

You want centrelink? You get assigned a job-search centre, there’s always 4-5 in even small towns now. It’s a lucrative business.

You’re told ‘search for 20-40 jobs per month’ based on your area. They have to be jobs you could reasonably do (one or two assholes made sure the whole system was tightened bc they’d apply for things they had no qualifications for). 

These are entered online, on a special governmental site. Failure to locate the right amount gets you a strike, or more than one.

Which is hard because there are only so many jobs in smaller towns, right?

So let’s say you have no luck, you hand in the 20 for that fortnight, and ‘report’ online to centrelink that you are following the rules.

They also make you do mandatory courses such as the 2-day ‘Resume Writing Course’ that you can do up to twice in 6 months. It’s as stupid as it sounds, and you learn nothing but that you hate the place.

Also, 3-day mandatory ‘Communication with People’. How to talk to people. Literally. 3 days of your life gone. Gee, wish I’d done some sort of degree around literally talking to people and using analysis... hmmm... 

They do not Recognise Prior Learning, at all. Because each person they make attend gets them more and more money.

-

New rules allow for them to identify a job you HAVE to apply for -even if you must write a new resume and cover letter. Which, in some cases, is a little fair.  Maybe you’re using one from years ago.

New rules can make them demand you call the HR of a certain place in front of them, to prove your resume went in, and to ask about the position. Of course, this will slap you on the Hell No list, but at least they’re satisfied.

New rules allow them to make you change your existing resume -e.g. they can demand you remove your degree/qualifications to make you more attractive to retail employers (always wary of taking on someone who might move on quickly).

That only works for 6 months these days.

- - - 

After 6 months, they send you on a Work-for-the-Dole assignment to a local charity.

They’re supposed to do risk assessments, and follow up on allegations of groping weirdoes and pedophilia (looking at you, Salvation Army*). But they don’t. [ *that person who did it was literally the Community Member of the Year until the truth of what the local SA was covering up came to light. Fucking creep of a man, so many flags that Jesus absolved him of.]

That nonsense injured two members of my family directly, as well as others; at the same place, at different times, and both were deemed ‘our fault’. Despite that the first incident involved an unqualified asshole making a teenage boy hold a fridge, then deliberately dropping the truck tray fast so it yanked the ligaments in the kid’s shoulder so badly it took 6-12 months to heal with physiotherapy.

And the second time, a bookshelf held up with STICKY-tape was broken by a customer, and fell off slamming into my knees and feet, causing untold agony... resulting in a fractured patella in one knee and severe bruising/clicking/weird shit that persists even a year and a half later... but that was my fault.

-----------------------

In short, each person is assigned up to 55 hours per fortnight that they have to undertake with a charity of some formation. OR ROADWORK - they can also make you do roadwork. Like they tried to do to the just-healed teenage boy the minute his medical exemption period was up, even though he couldn’t raise his arm all the way yet. It’s Making Money, not Helping People Find Jobs.

They also made an app, that the person attending MUST download (even if you have to delete just about every single other thing on the cheap phone to make room for it).

It’s called Jobapp or some shit. Basically, when you get there the manager or head volunteer (often tech illiterate) HAS to print a QR code for you, and only you.

You sign into the app, this takes a while bc it’s not well designed and cuts out often. Finally, you find the hard-to-locate-and-ambiguously-named part where you can ‘sign in’ as being at your ‘activity’.

If you’re there all day, and you will be, there are Two Codes.

You scan them to separate locations in the app. And boom, you’re registered as there. It only takes one missed QR code or app failure to land you in shit, though.

And then you spend all day cleaning, on the till, arguing with people over op shop items bc they feel certain prices are too high even if it’s less than a third the real price. And you’re not allowed to sit or chill or anything... unless you’re a volunteer. They can get away with murder.

So that goes on for six months, slowly draining the will to live from your bones.

All the while, you still have to do the 20-40 jobs things and find time for their Training Modules that you already did but hey, you’re a moneymaker. Sometimes they will NOT count the training days towards your Total 55hours per fortnight, so you lose the one free day a week you had...

---------------

It sucks... but I think the other thing we should mention is that this doesn’t really exclude any jobseekers.

Disabled? Elderly? Medical Issues? Can’t speak english very well? Other issue?

Get in there. We get paid to supervise your activity!

Like, there are a lot of people doing job seeking activities who are unfit for the position they are forced into. For many reasons.

-----------------

The thing I found laughable was that they could apply for you, without your knowledge, and if that resulted in an interview you HAD to go. If they feel you tanked the interview, they can penalise you...

There are ways to tank an interview, though. Trust me.  Especially for telemarketer interviews, just have an awkward phone manner, like you’re trying but it’s Weird. And boom, no. [Not that there’s anything wrong with that job, but they signed me up for it without my permission and some dangerous clients worked there, I would not have been safe, they didn’t care tho].

Also, you can’t apply for certain positions for someone with a degree. Our ability is measured in the way we respond to the questions and assessment requests... you can force us to apply to them, but trying to write in for us is just ridiculous. 

They might also call and call and call anyone on your applied-for list that they directed you to apply for... which of course, can tank your chances. Very annoying.

And if you get a job, on your own merit, they take credit for it immediately. I assume there’s a bonus or something.

- - - - - 

The agency I was sent to, MaxEmployment, was actually THROWN OUT OF ANOTHER STATE FOR COMMITTING FRAUD AGAINST THE GOVERNMENT.

So naturally, QLD said ‘yeah, let’s have that one’.

M.E. allegedly used to claim they had held mass training events with 80+ people every few weeks, doing those awful little courses listed above.  Except, on inspection by confused governmental officials..,. they discovered the room would barely hold 5-6 people including a trainer. Therefore, fraud.

Also, M.E. has failed to catch fake-ads (resulting in free 2-hour work ‘trials’ for a certain cafe that went over a year, fraud) and even sent an unaccompanied 15 year old girl to a fucking BROTHEL after identifying a clearly-not-for-an-admin ad for ‘an admin’ at that location.

IT’s always MONEY.

--------------------

If you are in charge of the poor, the ill, the desperate... then it should not be for money incentives. You should get a flat wage and that’s it.

Why? Because then people who are actually able to do the job, and willing to help people, will do it. Not just people who see dollar signs when they look at the tired, the unemployed and the ill.

And they need to actually fire bad people.

Let me tell you about this woman I had to deal with in a 6 month break from my fucking uni degree due to illness. Automatically, they threw me into job seeking.  I didn’t have a voice for like 2 months, but that didn’t matter.

This huge, hulking, rotund potato of a woman, balding ranga and a face as mean as a bulldog’s arsehole... was my caseworker person. She was a nightmare.

I would find 20 jobs, and hand in the sheet, she would yell at me, that I was being smart and she wouldn’t accept that. I once applied for nearly 65 jobs in one fortnight out of desperation, because she kept having my centrelink cut off without warning if I refused to complete another sheet.

The other caseworkers never stopped her. The manager would not hear my complaints or concerns. She could do what she wanted.

And she knew I could not stop her. The one thing about the situation that kept me apart form others there was that, if I absolutely couldn’t take it, my parental unit said we would ‘manage’ until I went back to uni the next year. Others were unable to do that, and so, this absolute cunt of a woman... held sway.

She had no class, no charm and no people skills. She screamed at the top of her lungs at a tiny asian lady who a) didn’t have a great grasp on english at the time, and b) did not understand all the big words this self-important ranga was using just to sound intelligent.

Apparently the solution to ‘I do not understand’ is raise your voice, to screaming, and get angry. NONE of her colleagues even looked up at her.  Jesus, if one of my colleagues was yelling like that I’d have dragged them out of the room by their fucking hair, like what the HELL was that about.

Was she stopped or fired? No. Was she transferred to some unsuspecting town? Yeah.

I don’t trust organisations who will not admit they hired the wrong person, and fire them. It means they’re hiding shit.

--------------

TL;DR - The whole system is a disaster.

They claim more people are employed, but they also count people on those mandatory work-for-the-dole things, which skews the unemployment number to less than it is.

It is exhausting to deal with and its no wonder so many fucking people are so depressed death seems like the only solution.

And it was all thanks to a handful of people rorting the system; the idiots up top went into red-alert levels of panic and upended the system to punish people.

AND THAT’S NOT EVEN FUCKING TALKING ABOUT THE NEW BASICS CARD SYSTEM

which is nonsense

sure, limit what people can get to groceries and certain stores, including op shops or whatevs. can’t get smokes or alcohol on the cards...

have to have ID for the cards...

but like, you think people won’t find ways to get the smokes, drugs and alcohol they want? you’ve just ensured that they either pawn their things, or do degrading acts to get those things...

so give yourselves a moralistic high-five, people who decided this system was a great idea (primarily bc they and their family/social circle will never need to use it), because you’ve cause d so many more problems than you solved...

[xiucas]

                                       “媽咪, 我哋要去哪裡?”                                   mama, where are we going?

a - “i’m american, actually.”

it’s quite often that people mistake joshua for being foreign by good ol’ fashion assumptions of race. while he was originally born in hong kong, joshua was adopted by an american family when he was four years old. 

b - brave

while he would never consider himself to be as such, joshua is the first person to jump in defense of those he cares for. and on top of that, he goes into haunted buildings for a hobby/living so he isn’t exactly easy to spook.

c - “our last name is clark.”

he was adopted at four years old, raised within a large family of other adopted siblings. it was strange, having to learn a new language and take on a whole new life. and that new life began with a new name. huang li jie became joshua clark.

d - dishi

dishi, a beloved stuffed rabbit he brought to boston with him after the adoption was finalized. it is the only keepsake he possesses that was given to him by this birth mother. it has been repaired so often, joshua has lost count how many times his mom stitched him back together. now that he’s on his own, the young man has taken up the repairs on his own. he plans to die with that rabbit by his side.

e - eight

it was around eight years old that the nightmares finally started to fade, a relief to his family as it had been difficult to endear. years of this tiny soul crawling into beds that he could find, seeking comfort from whomever would give it to him. perhaps not every night, but consistent. the wet streets disappeared, the incoherent rabble of cantonese shouting ebbed away. and the tears evaporated upon a face he had begun to forget.

f - “you are my best friend.”

he had always felt on the outs growing up, always being the weird kid that talked too much and made people question if he was normal or not. it took him ages, but in school he found someone to trust, someone who didn’t treat him like a freak. elliot kelly was there for him through his awkward stages up through his present as he embarks on adulthood with a college degree under his belt and a dream of youtube stardom. if there is one person on earth that he would call his most trusted and best friend, it’s him.

g. “ghosts, man! ghosts!”

it had started as a joke, a passing conversation of what it would be like to have it. and then it became a reality when joshua came home one day with a new expensive camera and a passion to take a chance. who cares if it didn’t pan out, it would be fun just to mess around with the idea and maybe have a good time doing it. besides i mean, ghosts, man! ghosts!

h - “hauntings aren’t always about apparitions and cold spots. sometimes it’s just a feeling.”

during his internship at a tech company, the channel began to pick up traction and with the addition of their mutual friend, percy, they had a full-fledge channel. subscribers were pouring in and suddenly they were making money off of their channel and not just messing around with a camera. soon, people were inviting them to their alleged haunted buildings, and suddenly it wasn’t a hobby anymore. he abandoned his internship to put his focus purely in the channel. and they’ve recently hit their first million subscribers.

i - “i love you.”

romance was fleeting, something that joshua had never put too much effort into. especially considering he never thought he was particularly interesting. attractive, sure, but that was only skin deep. martha parker was the first girl that joshua ever said i love you to. and while it may not have lasted, it never faded but simply evolved into an unbreakable bond. sometimes your first love is meant for more than just a memory.

j - “i actually like jogging.”

by the time high schoo hit, joshua had grown into himself somewhat and the overwhelming awkwardness gave way to a more charming awkward. however, instead of throwing himself into multiple relationships in his teenage years, he spent most of it in the gym with his peers working out. he enjoys fitness and is more often in motion than not. he is the type to suggest going on a hike before going to the movies.

k - kin

family? friends? his entire family is based on you make your family; it isn’t always blood. and it’s with this example that joshua has lived his entire life as making his own family. his friendships are an extension of that body, of that ever evolving nervous system. it is why he only keeps positive influences in his life.

l - last minute snack run

there is no shortage of junk in the kelly/clark household. so much so in fact that he will drop everything if he has a craving something unhealthy for him. he may be a fitness nerd, but you better believe he needs his cheetos or else there will be hell to pay.

m - maya

a twitch goddess, a crush, a friendship. this girl is someone that joshua would likely drop everything for if she ever asked it of him. he may not know it yet but she has ‘love of my life’ radiating off her in waves, in the way she smiles and the way she moves. he may be a fool, but he is determined to not screw it up. maya is a once in a lifetime type of person. even an idiot can see that. 

n - “you’re damn right i’m into that nerd shit!”

growing up joshua often struggled to bond with his peers as he tended to not enjoy the same things as the other kids his age. up until middle school, joshua tended to avoid sports (until he realized he was good at them), and often preferred the company of books and film. that extended to comic books as well, and sometimes got mocked for it while growing up. and even now, as he would consider himself confident in who he is, he will be the first to defend this so called ‘nerd shit’.

o - “ooooooooooh!”

it’s not to say that he’s an idiot, but he can sometimes come off like one because he struggles to pay attention to things. especially on the first time around. often, you might have to repeat yourself before he truly comprehends what you said. he’ll get there, give him a minute.

p - “which parents do you want me to talk about cuz--it’s not that easy.”

joshua is adopted, a member of the extensive clark clan. while he appreciates his family more than he can say; he had a very stable childhood. however, his biological family is something that has been a bit of a mystery for him. his memories are hazy if not filled with faceless people speaking in unintelligible mumbles. he was too young to remember. but joshua is tenacious, and he isn’t willing to let it fade with time.

q - “oh do you remember this quote from--”

this kid is constantly quoting things from books, tv shows, and movies. in fact, it could be argued that the majority of his personality was formed from the media. odds are, he is the one in the group who is snapping his fingers and flailing quite ostentatiously trying to remember the quote from something he watched the other day that is relevant to the conversation. or so he thinks.

r - reason to smile

his happy place is the editing room, listening to music while they attempt to get the best content out of their footage as possible. this is usually all three of them collaborating together so everyone has equal say in what they put out there for everyone to watch. they are a team, and it’s one of the best things in the world for joshua to be a part of it. it’s his favorite thing in the entire world.

s - shelter

never one to waste free time, with what little he has joshua gives it to the local no-kill animal shelter where he spents a few hours a week taking care of the animals and helping them get adopted to good homes. he often begs his roommate if he can bring animals home often met with a negative response. even so, he is the one who is out in the yard playing with the dogs to make sure they get socialized.

t - trust

he may come off fun-loving and without a care in the world, but trust is something that isn’t easily won with him considering his circumstances. if you cross him or someone who he cares for deeply, it is likely you will never possess his earnest trust. it’s just the luck of the draw.

u - "what are you doing with my underwear?”

please, if you think this kid is basic, you haven’t been paying attention to him at all. he may have basics in his drawers, but this kid is the type to go into a store and see spongebob boxer briefs and immediately buy them because its god damn spongebob, guys! he is whimsical with his clothes most of the time, so his underwear can’t be boring either.

v - “we’re on vacay!”

joshua is planning a trip to hong kong to take over the holidays as he continues on his journey to find his birth mother. he’s unaware of the journey is going to take him right to his backyard, but for the time being, he is enjoying the planning portion of the trip. after all, he is learning about where he came from and also going away on location. what could go wrong...

w - “you are the fuckin’ worst!”

he is no saint, and he has his fair share of bad habits. like leaving his dirty clothes all over the place, leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor, and leaving empty energy drink cans all over the place. he is a god damn mess and i feel terrible for people who have to live with him. sorry, elliot.

x - “i still think xena is hot!”

strong women are kind of a thing for joshua, as he has a tendency to crave structure, a thing he has been severely lacking since moving out on his own. women who know what they want and aren’t afraid to admit it are his kink. if you boss him around he will listen like the dutiful young man he is.

y - “youtube is paying us, bro!”

it seems new subscribers come in waves as each day passes and because of this, joshua is spending a lot of his time collaborating with other content providers, local historians, and anyone who will listen to him ramble in order to provide the best content to their audience. he is hardworking to the end, especially considering they are making that youtube cash!

z - “zombies terrify the shit out of me, please don’t--”

that’s it. zombies freak him out. please don’t dress up as one and spook him, he will literally squeal like a girl and throw something at your face. proceed with caution.

! - “oh shit!”

nothing elaborate to put here, the boy just has a terrible mouth and tends to curse more often than not. someone get soap for this child’s mouth, it’s dirty.

, - “listen,”

he often has to explain how much of a trash can he is. trust me, he is well aware of his own shortcomings. 

? - “huh?”

sorry, you are going to have to repeat yourself a lot, but that’s okay, because you never know if he’s playing a prank on you or if he genuinely wasn’t paying attention. can he be trusted? that’s a fair question.

: - “you ARE the father 2: electric boogaloo”

joshua will be meeting his birth father, a rather cataclysmic ending to his birth mother journey that will require a lot of explanations, shouting matches, and trying to come to terms with the fact that sometimes, young people just make mistakes and there is no real rhyme or reason as to why anything happens. parents are people too, kids. don’t forget that.

[jedifighterpilot2727]

I have this straight up head cannon about Lexi being a little cuddle bug with Lena, this is completely self indulgent but could you write a wee drabble about Lena getting hurt and Kara of course freaks but Lexi won’t let go of her mama and it’s like a thing™️

Lena Gets Hurt

It’s happened before, a handful of times.

Assassins come and Kara isn’t there in time to stop them.

Or rather, she isn’t there in time to stop Lena from taking care of them herself.

She’s been training with Alex for years, and she’s pretty decent in the martial arts department; she can hold her own at least.

But she isn’t indestructible, like her wife, and she inevitably comes away with some bumps and bruises.

Kara always acts a little weird after it happens.

A little more doting.

A little more protective.

A little more clingy.

Lena doesn’t mind, knows it’s just Kara’s way of coping with Lena’s mortality.

It hasn’t happened in a long time though; probably because the number of attempts on her life have decreased significantly since they adopted Lexi - Lex declaring some sort of odd truce.

But it happened today, a disgruntled investor deciding that Lena needed to be threatened and roughed up a little bit.

Fortunately, the two guys he sent for the job weren’t expecting Lena Luthor to fight back; and it wasn’t hard to keep them at bay until security made it to her office.

Unfortunately, one of them was a south paw and managed a solid left hook to Lena’s cheek - leaving her with a nasty purple bruise.

Alex had insisted on taking her back to the DEO to get checked out, eventually determining that it wasn’t that bad and nothing was broken at least.

Alex words don’t do anything to assuage Lena’s nerves though; because she knows that as soon as Kara’s through with the alien threat across town -

“Lena!” The quick shout is the only warning Lena gets before the superhero is super speeding across the med bay to wrap her in a gentle hug.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t get there in time there was a - what is that?”

Tender hands tug her face to the side, Kara gasping when she catches full sight of the bruise blossoming along Lena’s cheekbone.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry, I should have -”

“Kara.” Lena interrupts gently. “I’m fine, I promise. It’s just a bruise, ask Alex.”

Kara looks to her sister who nods in agreement before sinking down onto the stretcher next to Lena and wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close.

“I hate it when this happens.” She breathes out before placing a kiss on Lena’s hair.

“I know, but I’m fine, I promise.” Lena stiffens as a thought comes to mind. “Where’s Lexi?”

“Winn is picking her up from school today. He said he’s going to bring her here in a few.”

A sense of panic rises in Lena’s chest, because she can’t let Lexi see her like this.

There aren’t many people that Lexi’s warmed up to.

Even fewer that she actively likes.

Lena.

Kara.

Alex.

James.

Winn.

Maggie.

J’onn.

Eliza.

Pretty much in that order.

Not that Lena is trying to keep score and say that their daughter likes her more than Kara.

But, okay, EVERYONE likes Kara.

Everyone.

And people ADORE Supergirl.

But no one particularly likes Lena all that much.

Well, she has no doubt of Kara’s love for her. And she and Alex started off a little rocky, but they’re best friends now. And sure, she and James didn’t get along great in the beginning, but they’re better now! And Winn, Winn is her tech buddy. Eliza, hell, she’d treated Lena better than her own adoptive mother, so she really has no complaints there.

But Lexi, Lexi trusts her completely.

Lexi had no knowledge of the Luthor name, had no qualms about Lena’s name, or her money, or her history - but she loves Lena, completely and unconditionally. She trusts Lena to take care of her.

And it’s a responsibility that Lena takes seriously.

Only a part of protecting Lexi is protecting her from seeing the people she loves hurt.

Now Lena has failed, miserably so; because one of the people Lexi loves the most is sitting in the DEO medbay with a black eye and a limp.

When it’s Kara hurt … Kara is easy. Kara is Supergirl, and sometimes Supergirl gets hurt while she’s out fighting bad guys, and even when she does get hurt, the signs of battle rarely last for more than a few hours, most of them gone within a few minutes.

But Lena, Lena has no reason to be hurt; other than homicidal family members, and you can’t exactly explain that to a six year old.

She can’t let Lexi see her like this.

But she also can’t just hide away, because Lexi would ask questions, and that would probably be worse.

“Mama! Yeyu!”

And it doesn’t matter anyway, because Lexi is here.

Kara meets her eyes for a moment before stepping aside, giving Lena a direct view to the little girl standing in the doorway, one hand grasped firmly by Uncle Winn. She looks adorable, as always, hair falling out of her braids and her school uniform slightly askew. Lena’s heart clenches as bright blue eyes fill with worry behind little glasses, Lexi tearing away from Winn to run towards Lena.

“Mama? Are you ok? What’s wrong with your face?”

Kara swoops Lexi up in a bear hug, peppering kisses to her cheek and giving Lena a moment to think.

“Hello, Little One, how was school?”

“What’s wrong with Mama’s face?” Lexi asks again, ignoring Kara’s attempt at distraction.

Kara looks to Lena and she holds her arms out for Kara to pass Lexi over. Once, Lexi is settled in her lap, she speaks.

“Well, you know how you fell off the monkey bars last week and you bruised your arm?”

Lexi nods.

“It’s kind of like that.”

“You fell on your face?”

Alex snorts from the corner and Lena shoots her a look.

“Not … exactly. There were some bad men that were trying to steal something, and one of them hit me in the face.”

“Oh.”

“But your Aunt Maggie came, and put them in jail. So they can’t hurt anyone ever again.”

“Is it like when we got kidnapped?”

And Lena doesn’t want to attach the two events in Lexi’s mind and reopen old wounds, but the child therapist always says that Lexi can tell when she’s lying so …

“Sort of like that, yeah. But they didn’t take me anywhere, I’m right here. And Yeyu is here now, so nothing bad is going to happen.” Even as Lena says it, she knows it’s as much for her own benefit as it is for Lexi’s.

“Oh.” Lexi is silent for a moment. “Does your face hurt?”

“A little, but you know what would make it feel better?”

Lexi shakes her head.

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream?!”

“Does that sound good to you?”

“Can I get two scoops?”

“You can even get sprinkles!” Lena promises with a smile; and Kara reaches to pull Lexi out of her lap so she can stand up, only for tiny arms to loop around Lena’s neck.

“I wanna stay with Mama.”

“You don’t want to ride on my shoulders?” Kara sounds almost offended, and Lena laughs.

“I wanna stay with Mama.” Lexi repeats, burying her face in Lena’s neck.

“Ok, chickadee. You can stay with me.”

And Lexi is heavy and Lena doesn’t have Kara’s super strength, but she manages, because she really doesn’t want to let Lexi go either.

* - - - - - - - -It three days of constant snuggles - if Lexi is awake, she’s glued to Lena. School is the one exception, and Lexi doesn’t pitch too big of a fit about it.

Day four, and the bruise is mostly healed, reduced to a slightly yellow tinge around Lena’s eye. She’s prodding at it in the mirror when Lexi walks into the bathroom.

“Does it hurt?” Lexi asks before climbing up onto the counter.

“Not anymore, it just looks a little funny.”

“Well don’t worry, Mama, it won’t happen again.”

Touched, but a little suspicious, Lena feels the need to question it.

“It won’t?”

“Nope. I talked to Uncle Lex. He told me to tell him if I ever needed anything, so I told him to make sure no one hurts you.”

Lena feels the panic rise in her chest, and she’s glad to meet Kara’s eyes in the mirror.

“You talked to Uncle Lex?”

“I sent him a letter! Ms. Ramona lets us write letters during free time.”

“And you wrote Uncle Lex a letter?”

“Mhmm, so don’t worry, he’ll take care of it.”

* - - - -

Kara, Alex, and Maggie use all of their resources, but it appears that nothing untoward has been put into effect.

Just a little girl sending a letter to a maximum security inmate.

Lexi gets a formal reply - a letter promising that her request will be followed and a giant teddy bear; how Lex managed to arrange the delivery of a giant teddy bear from prison, Lena has no idea. But it’s safe, both Kara and the bomb squad declaring it so, and Lexi is happy.

Lena’s response comes the next day, in the form of a nondescript letter waiting on her desk.

 Lena, Your munchkin is concerned for your safety. I can’t protect you from the dangers your alien wife attracts, but I can assure you that no one paid by a Luthor will ever harm you again. Not even one of mother’s goons. Consider it a truce in honor of the younger generation.  Lex.

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Sailor Proof by Annabeth Albert

Shore Leave #1

 What fun this book proved to be! I fell in love with Derrick and Arthur but also with Arthur’s family and the look into what it must be like to be involved with someone in the Navy. I knew that the men on the LST that evacuated us from Lebanon were missing their families, appreciated the effort they made to keep us safe, and thought of them again today while reading this book and realized even more the sacrifices they and their families make every day to do the jobs they do.

 What I liked:

* Derrick Fox: Petty Naval Chief working with sonar in a submarine, orphaned as a youth, raised by his grandmother, the Navy is his career, and he is focused, sweet, kind, gentle, confident, and perfect for Arthur.

* Arthur Euler: musician, different from other family members, fun loving, lives for himself, kind, generous, interesting, perfect for Derrick.

* The Euler family: large, loving, boisterous, competitive, do-gooders, there for on another.

* The look into part of what it might be like to be in the Navy and/or to fall for someone in the Navy.

* The growth of the relationship between Arthur and Derrick

* That the obstacles to overcome were dealt with honestly

* The communication between the couple

* The support of Arthur’s mother

* That the relationship between Derrick and Arthur was healthy and normal and believable

* The family reunion and the activities and situations that occurred there

* All of it really!

 What I didn’t like:

* Can’t think of anything except maybe the undervaluing of Arthur by some of his family.

 Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more in this series? Yes

 Thank you to NetGalley and Carina Adores for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 5 Stars

   Sailor Proof by Annabeth Albert is available in trade paperback, eBook and audiobook on September 28th!

 The sexy Navy chief and his best friend’s adorkable little brother…

 It’s petty, but Naval Chief Derrick Fox wishes he could exact a little revenge on his ex by showing off a rebound fling. His submarine is due to return to its Bremerton, Washington, home base soon and Derrick knows all too well there won't be anyone waiting with a big, showy welcome.

 Enter one ill-advised plan…

 Arthur Euler is the guy you go to in a pinch—he's excellent at out-of-the-box solutions. It's what the genius music-slash-computer nerd is known for. So when he finds out Derrick needs a favor, he’s happy to help. He can muster the sort of welcome a Naval Chief deserves, no problem at all.

 Except it is a problem. A very big problem.

 When Arthur’s homecoming welcome is a little too convincing, when a video of their gangplank smooch goes enormously viral, they're caught between a dock and a hard place. Neither of them ever expected a temporary fake relationship to look—or feel—so real. And Arthur certainly never considered he'd be fighting for a very much not-fake forever with a military man.

 Add Sailor Proof to your Goodreads!

 Carina Adores is home to highly romantic contemporary love stories featuring beloved romance tropes, where LGBTQ+ characters find their happily-ever-afters. 

 Discover a new Carina Adores book every month!

Meet Me in Madrid by     Verity Lowell (coming October 26)

The Life Revamp by     Kris Ripper (coming November 30)

If You Love Something by     Jayce Ellis (coming December 28)

D’Vaughn and Kris Plan a Wedding     by Chencia C. Higgins (coming January 25)

Sink or Swim     by Annabeth Albert (coming February 22)

 Buy Sailor Proof by Annabeth albert

https://www.harlequin.com/shop/books/9781335984920_sailor-proof.html 

  EXCERPT

Derrick

Arthur turned out hot. That was my first thought when I spotted him after I heard my name called. Derrick. My actual name, not Fox, not Chief, and outside of Calder a couple of times, I hadn’t heard that name in months. And definitely not like that, all eager and excited and happy. On the sub, hearing my name inevitably meant that someone needed something right that minute, but the way Arthur said it didn’t inspire dread at all.

I’d already been caught up in the energy of the day. Homecoming day was always exciting, even if I didn’t usually have someone waiting. The whole crew was jostling about, getting into our dress whites, making sure everything from our cover to the chest candy of ribbons and medals to the gig line was perfectly straight. Getting chosen to be on deck as we came into port was an honor, one that I usually let others, especially those with kids, fight over, since there was still plenty to do belowdecks in preparation and support. As the chief sonar tech, I was responsible for working with the A-gangers from engineering and the operations department to help navigate us in. Adrenaline was contagious, and by the time my department was cleared to disembark, I had enough energy to rival the reactor that powered the sub.

And then I heard my name.

I recognized Arthur’s red hair right away. But the rest…

Wow. Arthur had grown hot. Still shorter than me and skinnier, but wiry now, each lean muscle defined under a thin white shirt and tight jeans. No signs of his ever-present too-big nerd-humor tees. Same startling green eyes as before, though, and a new, more chiseled jaw sporting the perfect amount of fuzz. He’d grown into his long regal nose, and the hair that had seemed to have a life of its own when he’d been a teen was sculpted now, this perfectly styled wave that made me want to mess it up. His hands, which had always seemed too big for the rest of him, were clutching a giant sign.

For me.

And for a second—a literal instant when our eyes met and time stopped—I forgot it wasn’t real. And in that moment, I wanted it to be. Someone smiling that broadly for me. Had Steve ever been so happy to see me? Hell, I wasn’t even sure the poodle my grandmother had let me keep had been that happy. Arthur just radiated pure joy. The kid was one hell of an actor.

“Welcome home.” Even his voice was different. Deeper. Sexier.

“Hey,” I said because I was simply that brilliant at conver­sation. I reached an arm out, instinctively going for a hand­shake, but Arthur shifted his sign and met me partway, coming in for a hug.

A really tight hug.

Damn, he felt good. Amazing really. Solid muscle against me, hair tickling my nose, exactly as silky as it looked, strong arms able to haul me in and hold me tight. He smelled like mint and green tea, two things in short supply on a boat that tended to smell like old socks on a good day. Sweet. I inhaled deeply as his lips brushed my ear.

“Calder said to kiss you,” he whispered. “And I want to. But you gotta tell me you’re good with that first.”

Was I good with that? Hot guy who smelled like a concoction I wanted to drink every day for a month wanted to kiss me. And ordinarily, the friendship code would put Arthur far, far off-limits, but here was Calder telling us to kiss. It was a free pass, the sort I’d be a fool to turn down.

I wasn’t a fool.

And what harm could a peck do?

“Yeah.” My voice was a rough whisper, and I didn’t have a chance to brace myself before Arthur was sliding his mouth over from my ear to mouth. A double shot of tequila would have had less punch than the first brush of contact.

And okay, not a peck.

We were kissing. Arthur and I, which should have been weird but somehow wasn’t. At all. Someone whooped behind us, but almost all of my attention was riveted on Arthur, like I was on watch and every sense was heightened lest I miss something vital.

Like how soft his lips were. Full too. Or the bristle of his scruff against my cheek. I’d done a submarine shave that morn­ing, not my best job, but close enough that the rasp of beard felt electric. Our chests were pressed so tightly that I could feel his heart pounding. Or maybe that was mine, blood zooming to places that had been in deep freeze for months.

“Wow.” Arthur pulled back, leaving me dazed and still clinging to him.

“Damn.” The statuesque purple-haired woman he’d been standing with laughed loudly and thumped Arthur’s shoul­der. “Is that the best you can do? Your man has been at sea how many months?”

Your man. If only. If he were actually mine, we’d be racing across base, a mad dash to find a room with a door. But he wasn’t and all we’d ever have was this moment. A potent mix of want and resolve raced through me as suddenly I was determined to make this count.

I pulled him back to me, and this time when our mouths collided, I was ready. Ready to taste. Ready to absorb every single detail. Ready to seize control and kiss like the world might be ending.

And it could have. Not sure I would have noticed. Everything faded away. The crowd. The docks. The balloons Arthur had been clutching and his sign both as his strong hands clung to my shoulders as we kissed in earnest. He tasted like he smelled, sweet and minty, and his tongue against mine was like floodlights coming on.

“Welcome home,” Arthur breathed against my mouth as the sound of applause gradually pulled me back into awareness of our surroundings. Applause. Whoops of laughter. Clicking cameras. But still I couldn’t seem to look away from him.

About Annabeth Albert

Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open—no flashlights required! When she’s not adding to her keeper shelf, she’s a Pacific Northwest romance writer of many critically acclaimed and fan-favorite LGBTQ romance series.  To find out more, check out: www.annabethalbert.com. The fan group, Annabeth’s Angels, on Facebook is also a great place for bonus content.

 Connect with Annabeth Albert

Website: https://www.annabethalbert.com/ 

Facebook Fan Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/annabethsangels 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AnnabethAlbert 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/annabeth_albert/ 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6477494.Annabeth_Albert 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Annabeth-Albert/e/B00LYFFAZK 

[orbemnews]

Not Your Pre-Pandemic Las Vegas A decade ago, after a rained-out Thanksgiving desert camping trip with our five kids, my wife, Kristin, and I headed to the nearest available lodging, the now-shuttered Hard Rock Casino in Las Vegas. Watching our brood eat their Thanksgiving meal as cigarette smoke and slot-machine clamor wafted over their cheeseburgers, Kristin and I locked eyes with an unspoken message: We ar­­e the world’s worst parents. We have avoided Las Vegas with the kids since then, but an aborted drive to slushy Aspen this April with three of our heirs caused us to pause in Vegas. At the time, the city was just awakening from its Covid slumber, with mandatory masks and limited capacity in most indoor spaces, traffic so light that cars were drag-racing down the normally packed Strip, and a lingering, troubling question over the whole place: Will this reopening really be safe? But extraordinary things have been happening during this slumber, and while we were only going to spend one night there, we had so much fun that we ended up staying four. At first we spent most of our time in the relative safety of the outdoors, but then we started to relax along with the rest of the city, drowning our hands beneath the ubiquitous liquid sanitizer dispensers, masking up and heading indoors. I knew things had shifted in Sin City when, while maneuvering the minivan through some seemingly dicey neighborhood between Downtown and the Strip, I noted on the back alley wall of a hair salon a striking mural depicting the cult outsider artist Henry Darger’s seven Vivian Girl warriors in their trademark yellow dresses. What were the Vivian Girls doing here? Farther along, Vegas’s ghost-town adult stores, shuttered warehouses and other buildings were also sporting increasingly elaborate murals: a blood-squirting horned lizard spanning half a city block; a dog with an impressively slobbering tongue piloting an open cockpit plane; a colorful phoenix and dragon rising like fireworks from an empty parking lot — all producing collective surprised “Wows!” from inside our minivan. Las Vegas, it seems, is emerging from the Covid crisis as a place of spectacle and creativity, especially outside the air-conditioned gambling ghettos of the Strip. Over the next four days we did a lot of walking, crawling, flying and even railroading, all of it away from the casinos. We explored the Arts District, an area that has gone into hyper drive — so much so that we waited 30 minutes to get into my once “secret” Colombian breakfast joint, Makers & Finders — and wandered along Spring Mountain Road, the hub of the city’s Chinatown, rapidly expanding westward. In the midcentury mecca of East Fremont Street, a $350 million investment by the tech titan Tony Hsieh, who died last year, has produced a boulevard of fantastical art installations, restored buildings and a sculptural playground surrounded by stacked shipping containers converted to boutiques and cafes, all guarded by a giant, fire-spewing, steel praying mantis. “Vegas is going through a cultural renaissance,” a former member of the city’s Arts Commission, Brian “Paco” Alvarez, told me in a recent telephone interview. “A lot of the local culture that comes out of a city with two million unusually creative people didn’t stop during the pandemic.” A mysterious, windowless building The most striking newcomer is Area15, which opened in February in a mysterious, airport-hanger-size, windowless building two miles west of the Strip. Imagine an urban Burning Man mall (indeed, many of the sculptures and installations came from the annual arts festival held in northern Nevada), with some dozen tenants providing everything from virtual reality trips to nonvirtual ax throwing, accompanied by Day-Glo color schemes, electronic music, giant interactive art installations and guests flying overhead on seats attached to ceiling rails. Face masks are currently only mandatory in Area15 for self-identified unvaccinated people, though some of the attractions within still require face masks for everyone. Everywhere, we encountered the constant presence of cleaning attendants spraying and wiping surfaces. On the second floor of Area15’s art riot I met an old acquaintance from New York, Chris Wink, one of the co-founders of the joyously weird Blue Man Group, who was bringing his creative magic to Area15 in the form of a “Psychedelic Art House Meets Carnival Funhouse” called Wink World (adult tickets start at $18). Wink World is centered around six rooms with infinity mirror boxes reflecting Slinkys, plasma balls, fan spinners, Hoberman Spheres and ribbons dancing to an ethereal soundtrack of electronic music, rhythmic chanting and heavy breathing. “I worked on these installations for six years in my living room in New York,” Mr. Wink told me. “I was trying to evoke psychedelic experiences without medicine.” My unmedicated children were transfixed, as if these familiar toys frolicking into eternity were totems to their own personal nirvanas. I’ve never seen them stand so still in front of an art exhibit. Lava-filled caves and artificial lawns Omega Mart (adult admissions start at $45, face mask and temperature check mandatory), the biggest attraction in the complex, lines one side of the complex’s atrium and seemed — at first — to provide a banal respite from Area15’s sensory overload. Along the sale aisles I found Nut Free Salted Peanuts, Gut Monkey Ginger Ale and cans of Camels Implied Chicken Sop. My kids, good campers, immediately ducked into a small demonstration tent erected in the back of the store. They never came out again. A hidden entry brought them through the wall and into a world of artificial lawns, lava-filled caves, drab offices, a desert canyon, locker rooms, a secret bar and other divergent spaces often linked by hidden entrances. “Pull every knob and open every closet you see, Dad,” my daughter, Vivian, breathlessly advised as she whizzed by me for the fourth time in this 52,000-square-foot maze. Created by the renowned Santa Fe artist collective Meow Wolf (the name derived from pulling two random words from a hat during their first meeting), Omega Mart is an amalgamation of some 325 artists’ creations tied together by disparate overlapping story lines which one can follow — or not. For a short time, I tracked the story of the takeover of Omega Mart’s corporate headquarters by a hilariously manipulative New Agey daughter, and then got sidelined into the tale of a teen herbalist leading a rebellion to something else. I have no idea what I experienced other than that Brian Eno composed the music to one of the installations. None of my kids could explain what they experienced either, other than something mind-expanding. If it wasn’t for dinner, we might still be in there. Feasting in Chinatown Dinner! The choices are dizzying and there are now 10 Michelin-starred restaurants in the city. We weren’t going to any of them. Leaving Area15, even the distant lights of the Strip seemed relatively calming. But we were driving the opposite direction, to Chinatown. A decade ago, Chinatown was mainly a small enclave of restaurants and shops behind an ornate red gate overlooking a strip mall called Chinatown Plaza, catering to Vegas’s growing wave of Asian immigrants. Chinatown has now expanded to the far reaches of Spring Mountain Road, a desert Hong Kong of neon signs in Mandarin, Japanese, Vietnamese and Korean, advertising restaurants, coffee houses, foot-massage salons and lots of stuff I couldn’t read. Our goal was an unlikely corner of a strip mall, where hides, in the Jones family’s collective opinion, the best Japanese restaurant in North America, Raku. Step behind an understated white backlit sign and you enter an aged wood interior of an intimate restaurant that you might find off a Kyoto alley. We slid into the family-style tables behind the main dining room and commenced to feast. There’s a $100 tasting menu if you are feeling adult, but my tribe ordered cream-like tofu with dried fish, foie gras skewers and a dozen other items. Chinatown became our go-to-spot for snacks and boba tea between adventures. A favorite spot became Pho 90, a low-key Vietnamese cafe with outstanding noodle dishes and exquisitely layered banh mi sandwiches for picnics in the wild. Beyond the city Las Vegas’s expanding grid abruptly surrenders to the desert, which might be the most overlooked part of Vegas family vacations. Red Rock Canyon, 17 miles west of the Strip, is like walking into a Road Runner cartoon with a Technicolor ballet of clashing tectonic formations. We grabbed our admittedly reluctant brood on a 2.4-mile, round-trip hike on the Keystone Thrust Trail through a series of gullies until we emerged above epic white limestone cliffs jutting through the ocher-colored mountains. Here we had our Vietnamese picnic overlooking the monolithic casinos in the distance. Our last night’s excursion into nature didn’t take any persuasion: Half an hour’s drive south to Boulder City, a company called Rail Explorers has set up rail bike tours on the abandoned tracks leading to the Hoover Dam construction site. We booked a sunset tour (from $85 to $150 for a tandem quad bike). After some quick instruction, we, along with three dozen other visitors, climbed into an 800-pound, four-person Korean-made bike rig and, giving the group ahead of us a three-minute head start for some space, started peddling. Our route was along four miles of desert track gently sloping into a narrowing canyon pass. As we effortlessly peddled at 10 miles per hour, we noticed that the spikes holding down the railroad ties were often crooked or missing. “I bet these were all driven in by hand,” my teenage son, Cody, a history buff, noted. In the enveloping dusk, we glimpsed shadows moving along the sagebrush: bighorn sheep, goats and other critters emerging for their nocturnal wanderings. But the most surreal sight was at the end of the ride, where a giant backlit sign for a truck stop casino appeared over a desert butte — Vegas was beckoning us back, but now we welcomed the summons. Here we were, peddling into the sunset, feeling more athletic, cool and (gasp!) enlightened than when we first rolled into Vegas four days ago. Oh what good parents we were! “The moniker of ‘Sin City’ is totally wrong,” Mr. Alvarez told me, “if you know where to look.” Source link Orbem News #Las #prepandemic #Vegas

[stone-man-warrior]

December 26, 2020: 1:32 pm:

Thunderbird’s Episode: 0000000-00000-000

INVALID SYNTAX ERROR

Operation Crash Dive

♦ “What’s the count Ump?”

♣ “I don’t know, they are playing Bad Minton“

♥ “What’s the score Ump?”

♣ “Looks like two down, bases loaded, they brought in a pinch hitter”

♠ “What a racket, it’s only the bottom of the second, and they already cleared the net”

♥ “oohh.... I love cello music!”

♦ “They are serving funnel cakes at the concession stand, free with a $5 beer”

There is a glitch in the Secret Decoder Ring Roster of Decode on Decoder Ring RADAR.

==============================================

Ok, I watched the episode, Operation Crash Dive, I think DB Cooper was watching too, through the back door slider... sneaky bastard.

Today’s presentation was presented in “Subordi-nato-Scope”, in “DownRangOvision”, with “Enhanced High Fidelity Stereo-Sonic Theater” audio.

Produced by: “Pan-Jam-Air-Waves-Broadcasting” and featuring: “Red”

===================================

It looks like the Capitol Records Executives are still held captive in that echo chamber basement beneath the Capitol Records Building, and are revealing a lot of Hollywood secrets to Tommy-Two-Toe’s & Three-Finger’s-Louie, while Guido man‘s the control room in the recording booths at the 12th floor.

Red... lot’s of red... all kinds of red. It turns out that the red comes in all shapes and sizes, and can be applied to other, non-red items, quickly, and easily, over time.

International Rescue is heading for the Los Angeles Times. It appears that they see oportunity there, for harnessing that “Above The Fold Front Page Headline Real-Estate” that exists on newspapers. That’s handy for controlling people with scary headlines.

Meanwhile, in reality, I suspect the take over of LA Times happened shortly prior to the introductory issue of USA Today newspaper, to my recollection, that happened in around 1972-ish. There was a local newspaper in Southern California at that time, when some changes with the paper sparked outrage and scorn from long time loyal subscribers. “The Green Sheet” was a local newspaper, was not a small newspaper, was the Go-To newspaper for knowing what’s going down in the neighborhood. “The Green Sheet” was actually printed on Green Paper for the Front Page, Back Page, and Center Fold. About the time when USA Today showed up on news stands, “The Green Sheet” turned white... no more Green Paper in the Green Sheet happened, the paper was printed with the same title, “The Green Sheet”, but there was no green to be found anywhere in The Green Sheet newspaper after that. The San Fernando Valley, was outraged!

===== 7:38 pm: Extra:

For reasons that have no support other than having been at a hot-spot at a hot-time, I feel there is a direct connection with “Gone Postal” 1970′s Post Office attack news stories presented at time, and, the introduction of USA Today newspaper. I remember, as a 9 year old. that the USA Today was something special for some reason, I recall there was much talk about the USA Today newspaper’s premier issue, I should not have noticed, I was 9 or so, but I did notice, and remember some connection to “Gone Postal”, and that was terror news media saying that they had taken over the US Postal Service at various offices, one at a time, working their way up to USPS Central Federal Office of Operations, at state levels, then the master unit, where ever that is. USA Today played some kind of role with “Gone Postal” news stories.

=====

The Operation Crash Dive episode is showing a ton of Green Jello Terror Cell Easter Eggs within the episode. My first knowledge of Green Jello being some kind of mysterious import thing was in around 1970, in Canoga Park California.

=== 7:47 pm: Green Jello leadership is at 560 Jackpine, Myers family terror cell. They played a big leadership part for the collapse of World Trade Center, when Ron Howard was the man who was in the helicopter that took the only live shot of the so called airplane crash. I was the person who made what was called a “Key Mask Filter” for that, while held captive at my home, forced into making a lot of graphic materials, photo manipulations, designs of guitars and parts of guitars, instrument panel artwork that is currently used on Boeing airplanes, and other airplane signage for Boeing after they were hijacked in Seattle. Myers at 560 worked in close contact with people such as Ron Howard, David Letterman, Jay Leno, others, at the time. The guitar makers were Zakk Wylde, Paul Reed Smith (I designed all of the “Dragons” special “One of a Kind” Dragon art that went on the guitars, my daughter designed one of those, was there for help with the Dragons), Dean Zelinsky Guitars, while Eastwood Guitars were the people in charge of all of the guitar designs I was forced to do, and, Dean Zelinsky was there in the 1970′s at my house, with all of those musicians I was controlled by back then, so Dean Zelinsky must be associated to Harold & Joan Phillips at 507 Jackpine, as those people also have somehow wound up following me, then moving as a neighbor, after encountering them as a child in 1970′s.  The Dean ML is my design from back then, it’s a letter K, flying V. Dean was involved with Eddie Van Halen, and Bill Gates, who are old friends of one another. I did guitar work as a young kid, forced by Dean Zelinsky. Myers is a big part of Green Jello, and the oldest connection I have to Green Jello is from Dean Zelinsky 1970′s, actually in direct association to the British throne. There is Much to say, the information goes in so many directions, with Royalty at my house in the 1970′s who showed up with Tony Iommi, and the members of Pink Floyd before the Dark Side of the Moon was recorded, and took me to a European castle dungeon. Then again with meeting the Queen in Reseda California 10 years later, at about the same time I met Barack Obama, who went by the name “Black Steve” at the time. Much to know if there were only some people interested in doing national security work other than me. ===

I suspect there is some indications of a plan to take over the General Motors Manufacturing Facility that I think was on Van Nuys Blvd at Roscoe, where at the time, the Corvette’s were being built there, see old news stories about a Auto Workers Union Strike at that facility, some time after the take over, as the so-called strike was used to lure “Scab” labor, for “Kill & Replace”, to that facility, people guided there by Los Angeles Media. There is also something similar about a manufacturing facility of some kind that was on Canoga Ave. between Roscoe and Saticoy, along the Freight Rail Road there, that leads to Anheuser Busch in Chatsworth, where I am certain was hijacked along with the Cerwin Vega High Fidelity Audio Manufacturer nearby Anheuser Busch, in the 1970′s, but I don‘t see that in this episode, other than the Corvette Factory, which is subtly presented in the episode.

I noticed that these guys have Hydroplane technology in 1965... that is some whiz-bang high tech... should make a “What can be said about Hydroplane?” list.

Start with: “Slide” and work from there, once you reach “Airplane” and “Hide”, then switch to “Where did all of those thousands of paratroopers come from when they landed in So. Cal.?”, in order to understand that there were a whole bunch of airplanes parked in weird places back then... Palmdale, Thousand Oaks, Sun Valley, Balboa Reservoir,  are places where dozens of airplanes were just parked in places where there was no airport, back then, in 1969-ish. Best guess is they were DC-9 US Postal Service aircraft. John Wayne Airport should show up in Thunderbird’s episodes coded in pretty soon as the viewing continues. Analyze that name... John Wayne. I met him once in a boat in Santa Monica Harbor, called “The Duke”, about a 80 foot sloop. Things did not work out for Mr. Wayne that day, or for the people who brought me there, a 1972 Ford Ranchero wound up in the harbor, under water, as a result of my visit.

The episodes are clearly showing symbolism that a elongated triangle shape is important, some indications are a computer read out on a paper receipt, and on elevators in previous episodes, they are showing up in many places. Generally speaking, this Operation Crash Dive is presenting a notion of what I am going to label as “Natural Progression”, is the gradual increase in small details in the backgrounds of the Thunderbird’s puppet show sound stage sets. I am going suggest that as the “Natural Progression” of small details increases, so does the details associated with over-all progress of take-over, or, with detail in the planning of making progress later. Small increases in what you might call Resolution of the back-ground artifacts within, such as knobs, screens, wall art, controlling surfaces, clothing, props and more, seem as increase knowledge or increase physical gain indicators, like triangles are used on classic car turn-signal indicator on the dash... see how the airplane dash-board catches fire in the episode as the window is being cut with a round hole for the pilots to escape into what looks like an elevator car, the dash fire, is a turn indicator, “turn” means “Turn-Coat”, “Treasonous”... see “Don’t Let it Bring You Down” by Neil Young for more about turning, newspapers, blind people, people who have answers, buses, castles, and not to worry about any of that because the Baby is on Fire, you can just throw her in the water.... and Mr. Young is a Canadian who says he invented a motor that runs on Hydrogen.

=================================

Maybe I’ll add some more later. It’s 3:20 pm.

==================================

3:26 pm:

One more thing before I forget, for you physicists out there, don‘t forget to simplify. Example: You have a three dimensional shape in your hand, one that can be described with an equation, such as a sphere, or cube, and those are Prisms, there are Triangular-Prisms to think about here, the Triangular Prism is the single most simple, and is the absolute strongest of all Three-Dimensional Prisms. Don’t be a Tetrahedronic-Prism in a wold controlled by Triangular Ones, you could wind up in a Trapezoidal-Prism.

====

3:58 pm:

More about Three-Dimensional Prisms:

They can be used to control social conditions.

Simple idea: You know that the very strongest of all shapes, in the universe, is a Triangular Prism, nothing comes even close to the strength of a Triangular Prism. You know that, because you are no fool, you did your home work, you are smart mother fucker, did the math, saw it work, made some models, and you know that the thing is as strong as strong can possibly be. Even a paper one is strong among other paper prisms. Indestructible is the Triangular Prism.

So, smart people who take over the media, have tools available to make sure that other people are not as smart as you and your gang, so, those guys, set out to build a whole bunch of Tetrahydronic Prisms to surround themselves with. Triangular Prisms all with Tetrahydronic ones all around, only select people are allowed to know about the secrets of the Pyramids.

They did it with media, over time.

The terror bastards stay smart, because they are not interested in the garbage that is presented on TV, newspapers, movies, etc. They like music, that is where the brains are at. So, millions of people, all wondering what Al Bundy is going to do next, makes all those people dumber than a box of rocks at a quarry. Add Luke & Laura’s wedding, stretch that out over, say, five months, and everyone is waiting to get fucked, as they show us Al Bundy go into the restroom every episode with his newspaper, just to make sure we all remember to wash our hands before the Tonight Show is over, because that, is when everyone gets laid.

Too Much Information is the thing that builds a society of Tetrahydronic Prisms all in a Trapezoidal Prism, with no way out, because the whole USA is built with walls made of Triangular Prisms.

Stay smart, keep it simple.

The mystery of the Pyramids makes that task daunting when trying to explain why everything is so complicated.

They made it so you have to be a Tetrahydronic Prism in order to explain or teach the secrets of the Pyramids, a Triangular Prism where Amp Guru lives.

=========

4:27 pm:

Make an experimental comparison, see reality in a power circuit:

You need: One, one-hundred watt guitar amplifier w/speaker, TUBE DRIVEN.

One digital powered amplifier, one-hundred watt. Such as a powered speaker.

They each consume one-hundred watts of electricity.

You can use other wattage. Use what you have. Base your experiment on the wattage of the Tube Amp.

Play something through the tube amp.

Play something through the digital amp.

Compare.

The power consumption is the same for each, but the Tube Driven amp will prove to you that it is far superior to the digital amp power.

The two are not even close.

You might need 50 digitally powered amps to match the output of one single Tube Driven amp.

Try it and see for yourself. There are a lot of questions about why are we using sub-efficient tech, when there is superior tech that has been available for nearly a century? Far superior.

This is important for learning about who Amp Guru is, and how they think, how they control people, and communicate with one-another.

Is the rate of power consumption equal between the two amps? I don‘t have the answer, I watched Married With Children too much, and.... Luke & Laura’s Wedding, so, it’s hopeless for me, maybe not too late for you though.

This URL... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6IxCMNx4znY

(But the Browser version of the same URL leads to what I want to see, hear, share with you:)

{12-27-2020: 1:10 pm: Yesterday, when I posted the link to the Pink Floyd, some other video showed up here, below, I should have taken a screen shot, but did not do that, and now I am made to look as the fool, because I watched Married with Children too many times, and apparently Luke & Laura finally went on that honeymoon... left the mess here on this page. So, now, I can’t show you that other place where the link, linked to. Ohh well..  the good news, is I can listen to the album now, could not do that yesterday. (you have to imagine that the remainder of the post was written while the link was wrong, presented some other video there below, otherwise you won‘t know what happened)}

Makes this video happen:

Could be a bug...

Certainty is part of the Syntax Error.

It’s not the Decoder Ring. That works good.

I’ll try again... after some scans, reset the signal amplification modulation unit, adjust the rabbit ears...

That’s the problem... that fucking RABBIT! He’s inside the Symantec norton 360 internet security software I pay a lot of money for every year. That dreaded norton Life Lock Pop Up Window happened as I was explaining about the 100 watt tube driven amplifier experiment, it says: “Your Wi-Fi May Be at Risk”.

I don‘t use Wi-Fi. It’s not at risk. There are other risks, and they may be Wi-Fi risks, but I don‘t use Wi-Fi, others are able to use the Wi-Fi for me, inside of my computer, without my knolledge or consent. The problem is at Centurylink ISP, Oregon.

I don’t even have a Wi-Fi modem, but that won‘t stop the Sheriff and State Police from saying that I Piggy Back Wi-Fi from somewhere else.

Restarting initialization sequence now...

==================

5:53 pm:

Local Update:

The computer URL Hijack was done to get me to go outside for a walk to the mailbox, where along the path starting from the moment I opened my front door a series of activity was roled out for attack from Chartrand’s at 376 Jackpine with much support at Strong’s SAG house at 3747 Russell Road, and other, hidden support to the south on Russell, and distant assist from farther east somewhere.

The attack plan is a Pacific Power Corp attack plan, has been done dozens of times. I know how to defend from the Pacific Power Corp w/Centurlink assist attack’s when they are roled out. Many involved, as many a perhaps 20 individuals necessary for this attack scenario, mostly staged at Chartrand and Strong’s terror cell physical locations, with digital location inside my computer.

First was the set-up, all day my eyes were not working, had very poor vision, they have a poison aerial gas that produces that symptom, and a airplane flyover at the very moments that I plugged in my coffee maker was used as a signal through the Smart Meter Power Meter to read and transmit my power consumption live, as I use electricity. The Smart Meter at my house is isolated at Pacific Power HQ as one to monitor 24/7 as I consume power, thereby alerting the Pacific Power Corp terror cell of some detail about what I may be doing, and where I may be physically located inside my home.

The coffee maker produces a signal to Pacific Power in the form of amperage consumed, about 7 amps draw is my guess. They learn my habits by the consumption of electricity, they learn what kinds of electric powered things I use, over time, make a data base, use that to assist in a physical attack at my home, today, the coffee maker signaled a airplane, the airplane was used to dump a load of poison gas over my home, the gas was sucked into the house by virtue of the return-air vent of the forced air heating system, that produces a negative air pressure condition inside the home, thereby drawing in air through small cracks, holes, under the front door where they intentional wrecked the door sweep insulating rubber years ago, and other places such as the chimney, where the poison gas from aerial delivery sparked into action by use of a coffee maker, is drawn into the house where I breath it, making my eyesight poor, and a feeling of false security and well being is washed over me that way.

I suspect other gas was introduced into various places around the home throughout the day, all in effort to set me up for he walk to the mailbox after a full day of breathing a variety of poison gasses.

--

The sound of loud screaming was heard from the distant east as I opened the door and began to walk to the road to get my mail. The scream sounds were female, and were compounded with a duplication of the exact same screams from the nearby southwest direction, and additional duplicated screaming was from the south, near 560 or 598 Jackpine backyard areas. The screams were what I would associate to someone mauled in a wild animal attack, lasted about one minute, was intense screaming.

At the same time, Strong’s terror cell deployed two vehicles, one went south on Russell road, the other unknown, but I suspect it was people I encountered at Chartrand’s a few moments later. The people were already in their cars, waiting for me to open my front door, they have access to a listening device that was put under my house by the front porch somewhere. Then, along the path to mailbox, things quieted down. I checked the mail, the box was slightly opened already, the mail was a bill, somewhat crumpled, and placed inside the box in a way that is not consistent with the way the mail carriers put the mail in there, each mail carrier, it turns out, has a signature way they put the mail into the mailboxes, it’s possible to determine if the mail carrier was the regular one, or the substitute one, simply by the way the mail is placed inside the box. Today’s mail was placed by some other person.

As I reached for the mail, that is when the physical part of the attack began as a car (from Strong’s) came down the road. The Strong terror cell consistently roles a car to Chartrand’s most of the time I go get mail. So that happened.

Today, I already had figured out the Centurylink/Pacific Power attack before I went out there, some of that is evident in the contents of the Tumblr entry today.

The way to deal with the biggest thugs, is meet them head on, and drop one, then leave.

So, I walked over there to Chartrand’s to drop some thugs as they had just driven from Strong’s and parked.

As I approached, I lit my Bic Lighter constantly with intermittent small uses of the lighter.

There were sounds of popping, some thud noises, bang, bop, baddaboom... a short delay, then that car left Chartrand’s, as the car left, i was standing by that front driveway at 376. The car was not able to maintain a straight path forward, was all along the shrubs at the soft shoulder, wheels off the road, and swerving. the car stated to drive into the Clyde Baum terror cell at 333, then turned straight down the road and out of view.

I walked home.

As I turned to walk home, either that same car, or another car, came down the road towards me, by back to the headlights. When I looked to see what car it was, the car was not there. There was no car there, I think it was two people with flashlights on foot mimicking a car as I turned to walk home, and were seemingly alerted into action by the other car that was swerving.

I suspect the attack team from Pac-Pow, had burst from nitrous gas ignition as I approached over their to drop some thugs. I also suspect that car was a remote control car, was operated by the two flashlight men on the road who mimicked a car headlights.

Another assessment is the typical one, after things went sideways at Chartrand’s, the back-up plan was quickly deployed, to say I hurt the people in that car so I could steal their car, that means the County Sheriff is at Clyde Baum’s at 333 orchestrating the Pac-Pow/Centurylink attack, along with Oregon State Police terror operatives there.

Big operation today, they must be Orthopedic Surgeons over there, plastered, from Quebec.

Fail.

It’s 6:54 pm.

=========

8:57 pm: “Keep it simple” approach to finding and apprehending hard core terror mass murderers:

Hope. Follow the hope. The people who promote hope, the people will sell hope to you... if they are telling that hope is a good thing, it’s likely that is a terror murderer, it’s simple as that.

The Rules:

Hope is what remains after everything else is gone. Those are the rules.

So, if it’s a Hopeless situation, in terror language, that is like having vast riches.

They played the turn-a-round on what we believe hope is about.

If you have a family, a home, some money, some valuables, vehicles.. if you have some stuff that you enjoy, do you really want of need the hope that they want to give to you, or worse, sell to you?

They will find a way, to make you want some hope. If you fail the Hope Test, you mark yourself to be taken out by those who understand the true meaning of what really is. So, find the Hope Dealers, make arrests. It’s like a drug the world does not need.

The same people who want to hand out all of that hope, will come to ask what you are proud of, when you mention how proud of your family you are, and say why, and tell stories about Pride, that is when they hunt down and kill everything you are proud of, then, that’s when they come back, not to give you hope, but to tell you that you can buy it.

The farm is sold, with stories of hope and pride.

====

9:23 pm: The terror come from Britain. At some point in the not so distant past, what USA used to think about as England, changed emphasis, to Britain.

If you grew up at some point before about the 1980′s, maybe you understand that England to Britain transitional condition that took place.

Why?

The reason is the language we use, the English language, it’s called English because it originated in England. The language was developed as a weapon to aid Christian Crusades, the double meanings, and round-a-bout nature of the word craft is by design, so, when the British began to go hard core with use of the weapon language over the broadcast airwaves when SAG came aboard their Pirate ship, the British do what they have always done, draw attention to some other place, while maintaining control, and illusion of superiority. The terror includes a campaign for switching thoughts away from England, in favor of United Kingdom, and Britain, for subject matter that leads over in that direction. We don‘t say England any more, we say The UK because of the campaign to draw attention away from the source of the English Weapon.

It’s take my whole life to learn that, I remain confidant that some other people will understand the enormity of it, because the enemy are the people who crafted the language we use to speak with.

The words themselves, are a variety of poison.

There is a dictionary, they gave us a dictionary, send us to school to learn English. We are scolded if we misuse the words, or spell them “wrong”, that happens while the enemy has a alternate use dictionary, one that allows more freedom of expression, more creativity, more legroom, more headroom, is very handy, can be used as a front with the dictionary version we are bound to, while others are saying completely different ideas in the background of the same conversation. It’s the same as “White Man Speak With Forked Tongue”, or, “Double Talk”. The enemy speaks English up front, and Mayan in the background at the same time, with dialect considerations, words are crafted on the fly, outside of the boundaries of a dictionary, for taking victims at the One Hour Martinizing. They used to speak Mandarin there, now, they speak English, and no one can understand what the heck they are talking about there.

I suspect that the presence of what I have been calling “Ancient Chinese Secret” contained in the Thunderbird’s episodes, could turn out to be the idea that the English language is a “Double Speak” language, so, they need to announce that within the episodes, at places in the episodes where double-talk is done, so that the terror operatives who need the command orders will know when to use the dictionary, and when to switch to “Ancient Chinese Secret” language, which is portrayed with the notion that the Chinese Laundry has all changed, and is now called “One Hour Martinizing”, and those guys at the Martinizer are best described as “SAG newsmedia personalities”, so, when it looks as if a Mobile news crew is on the scene, that is the same as “Ancient Chinese Secret”.

That’s my read about that.

===

10:09 pm: Although it may be best to describe the “One Hour Martinizing” as newsmedia personalities, I still believe it’s important to say that it’s also the entire visual media industry, a place where they do some front office work, in the back office.

Think about the older television programs, the ones that were on for One Hour, are different than those that were only on for a half hour. Shows like Laugh-In, the Carol Burnette Show, and Glen Cambel Music Hour are going to prove to be way up the command chain at the Martinizer, and those guys are subordinate to Amp Guru, Music Industry, originating at the Vatican, trickling down to British commercial music industry, leading to British Invasion, where we Meet the Beatles, and are slaughtered, with take over of US Music Industry, to start with.

=====

10:31 pm:

Gone Postal Terror:

Hijack of US Postal Service came with Russian Mother Hoax Fractal View.

Say you are a kid eating breakfast, have some time before school, see that if you send in 10 Box Tops from the cereal box, you can get Thunderbird’s Paper Hamburger Server Hat, they say it’s a Space Mission Leprechaun Hat, but you know what it really is, and, you already collected nine other box tops, so, you put those into the envelope along with the postage necessary to ship the Hamburger Hat to you (It’s like a mini Pope Hat) and off to school you go, while dropping that into the mailbox, red flag goes up, and onto the Bus you go.

Three days later, you are missing, and the newsmedia warns about the presence of a Cereal Killer, but unless you read the news paper, you won‘t ever know there is a typo in the paper, where they spelled it “Serial Killer”, the way “Amp Guru” spells it. Some other place says “Surreal Killer” (The Star, Mom reads that in the bathroom), while they are searching for you offshore. Reality is you in a dungeon at school, held captive. because the “Gone Postal” terror cell, is “The Stork”, and they put you in the dungeon with other kids who also sent something in the mail, like a note to Santa, with return address on there, so Santa knows where to find you.

Gone.... Postal.

Taken by the Stork, for delivery to the terror training center at a SDA nanny not far away.

There are a few ways the double speak is done for killing and replacing, kidnapping and taking, the English way, on TV, school, at the store where the cereal came from (Post Cereal for Fractal View), newspaper headline, and at home.

===

11:04 pm:

It’s been about six years since I began to write eye-witness terror experiences this go around, there have been other times when the information was all deleted by the county sheriff who said help was on the way before deleting the information. That other time, there must have been someone who had power to help, and read the information, sent the local authorities to my house. But those people did not understand the enormity, the complexity, the extreme nature of the Christian terror army. I wonder if those people survived the return rapture that is done when outsiders get involved in Oregon?

So, I started again writing about six years ago, after waiting what seemed an eternity for that help to arrive... no help came. I started again six years ago, on Google+, they deleted the whole Google+ as a result. Had to start over, carried all of that writing here to Tumblr, where I have absolutely no indication whatsoever that anyone has actually seen any of the information I put here.

There is no reason at all for me to believe that this account even exists, it’s like I am a ghost, surviving in a house, with no one to haunt, all alone, and no one will read the notes I leave behind.

There is no indication that anyone can see these writings other than the terror bastards who toss the information back at me in three dimensions while waging an attack. Happens almost every day, but no help has come to speak to me, write an email to me, send a letter to me, call on the telephone to me, send a text message, or even a carrier pidgin or smoke signal to say that they got the message, read it, are making a effort... nothing but silence and attack at my home ever happens.

The terror bastards take what I write... they actually not only read it, but they made a searchable data base out of the raw information I put here in paragraph form, with some links that don‘t always work the way they are supposed to, and other photos and visual aids that no one can see, other than the terror army. That data base is real, you may think I am joking, there are no jokes here, any humor you find is part of the terror, the Comedy mask of SAG built in to the terror, it goes along with the Tragedy mask, and all of that is part of Covfefe Presidential Grade SAG Terror. The data base serves the terror army, is cross referenced to another data base of lies told to federal officers, so that the terror army can better know what lies go with what parts of these entries, to maintain the trickery they do, and keep the federal officer entertained. I suspect there is at least one more data base of cross reference to a “alternate universe” sort of psuedo mirror backwards version of what I write here. There is much evidence to support such a mirrored bassackwards version written by other persons, for further fuckery to my cries for help.

The whole Google+ Social Media Platform of millions of accounts was deleted, not just mine, it was done to cover their asses, no one really knows the true reason why they deleted Google+ is all contained inside this Tumblr account that no one can see.

The terror bastards not only attack the ways I explain here, but they use poison gasses to foul me up, they have gas that makes you need a restroom, one that makes you itch like crazy, the nitrous makes you stupid enough that you will hand over your wallet, badge, gun, car keys, and photos of the wife & kids, right to them, when they say: “Hey, I collect those, can I have that one?“... “sure, here you go.” Then they say: “we have a ride, it’s like a roller coaster... let’s go ride the roller coaster” then they take you to a giant razor blade looks like a sllde, people all lined up to ride it, body halves on each side and the sound: “weeeeee” as another child is cut in two, SAG audience cheers.

So the gasses they use are also ones that make my vision not work, and that is pumped into the house after they toss a handfull of ground up glass dust into my eyes at the store, the cashiers do that part, it’s like saw dust made of glass, makes you blind for a month or more if it sets in real good.

The terror is layered like that, one thing means another similar Fractal iteration will be done, the same in some ways, different in other ways, and the difference is Fractal Iterated further after that... ditto, etc, and so on....

But there is absence of assistance in every way.

===

Seriously, the closest thing to getting some help to stop terror, happened at a time when I didn‘t know it was terror I needed the help for, in around 1970 when Elton John showed up with all of those other musicians in my youth, he saw what was going, was opposed to it, I asked for help, he said he would help.

He left, called later, said he can’t help, they killed Olivia, his wife.... no one knows or cares that they switched the Olivia’s.

I don’t ever defend entertainers, and the rainbow warriors really make me angry, but I set that aside because that is what happened, and is the only example of anyone even offering any help, and that was nearly 50 years ago.

It’s an example of extreme terror, and that was before they became powerful.

===

Maybe that was the help.

Saying that they killed the Olive, switched it out for an Onion, the SAG Union, could have been what he was saying to a 9 year old who had no idea what a Union was, other than some obscure math class lesson about exclusivity.

I understand now.

Let’s see if Elton joins the 27 Club in the coming weeks as a result of this post.

This particular lyric video hurts my ears to listen to, kinda tinny, good stereo separation though, and is pegged on the VU Meters, lots of clipping going on, it’s all fucked up, and is difficult to read... must be perfect.

The Queen will send him to Duordia before she sends him to 27 Club.

Happens all the time.

==========================

12-27-2020:2:06 pm:

There are turkeys outside somewhere nearby, that means Sparacino terror cell is trying to sneak up to put some kind of poison gas into the house, happens almost daily. Sparacino’s are part of: SAG; Oregon County Courts; County Sheriff; State Police; Li’l Pantry Market’s; Velero Gas Stations; Mikey’s Video; Video World, and that Taco restaurant nearby Merlin Li’l Pantry.

======

Triangular Prism. It’s as strong a shape as can be made.

But if you drop one, the pointy tips start to break off, a paper one will squish at the pointy tips. Keep dropping the Triangular Prism, over and over again, it will become smaller, and smaller, and increasingly smaller, less pointy, more round.

Eventually, the Triangular Prism will become spherical, loose it’s pointy vibe, then, the thing is more predictable in which direction it will go, when you smack it with a Louisville Slugger.

Something to think about.

====

12-27-2020: 2:28 pm:

I explained about how the forced air unit for your heater makes a negative pressured condition inside the house and will draw in air from outdoors through many tiny cracks, holes, and vents that houses have built into them, or are purposefully made, happen from seasonal moisture conditions as materials swell and contract, or are simply from wear over time. There is other considerations that investigative people need to know when dealing with terror soldiers who use airborne gasses to over power their victims. You need to understand that the terror bastards don‘t need to be right there at the front door, vent, or window to get the gas into your house, all they need is a breeze, and to release he gas such the the breeze does the work of carrying it to the house. All they need to know is when the heater or air conditioner is running, and that will go on, and turn off intermittently. The Smart Meter, when manned by Pacific Power representatives at their Smart Meter Receiver HQ to alert the terror soldiers, is handy for use a means to advise gas wielding terror soldiers about the timing of when to release the gas into the breeze. I have often heard the words: “We have the wind”, spoken from a neighboring yard as the breeze kicks in. That means the wind is in favor of the gas wielding terror soldiers, who play innocent as they poison you with gas released on the wind.

One more piece to this part of the puzzle is the electronics that make the heater work, the thermostat. They actually made thermostats with remote control functionality, even the ones the don‘t say they are remote operation capable, are indeed remotely operational to some extent, all they need is remote control to turn the  fan unit on when they need it to be on. The rest of the heating system does not need to function, but the fan does in order to create the negative air pressure condition necessary to draw in the poison gas, so, they have that capability at my house, because I had one of those digital thermostats installed at my home. Trust me, the old “Bi-Metal” thermostat is what you want to keep, don‘t let some asshole sell you a digital thermostat, the bi-metal is superior for safety.

I suspect the tech that works the remote for the hidden control in the thermostat is Infra-Red like the TV remote, except with addition of a digital enhancement of some kind. That could also possibly be the technology that works the implanted microphone transmitter in my jaw.... infra-red technology.

All of that stuff combined will get poison gas into anyone’s house, regular citizens. or FBI on stake out.... everyone is set up in advance, and is the presence of Bob Hope, all of the time.

2:55 pm: small airplane buzzed over top of my house as I write this.

========

3:06 pm: I write stuff here, then I read it to see what the bastards changed, then, I have to make the changes to put it back to the way I wrote it.

some consistency in the terror changes made are noteworthy, provided that the not stays the way I write it.

Tee-ache-eee spells the word “The”.

Often, if when I write “Tee-Ache-eee--en“ to say “Then“ or, “Tee-ache-aye-why” to say “Thay”, those are conditions that often get changed to: “Ache-eee”, “He”, and to “Tee-ache-eee”, “The”. I write “Then“ and it gets changed to “The”. I write “The”, and it gets changed to “He”.

There are hundreds of examples throughout these post entries where the words are changed out by some Christian Cult Zealot somewhere at Tumblr, Google, or Centurylink ISP.

The reason they do that is not known, the history of it’s significance is known, as follows:

The

The Ology

Theology

Study of God; The Bible

They are inserting some God into my reports of Terror.

People from places other than UK don‘t have the kind of background information about the language we use as dose the people who are from places closer to the source of the language.

I think I can demonstrate to you why the word “The” is the same as “God”.

Just start talking. Every time you need the word, “The”, pay close attention to what follows that word when you speak, or write.

Every last thing that follows “The”, is a thing that is said to have been “Created”. That means God created it, if you are a Christian Cult Zealot, so, when you point at the coffee in the store and say: “look, the coffee is on sale” you are saying “God Coffee is on sale”, he created it. That is the history of it. You can make it as simple or as complicated as you want to, but everything that follows the word “The” is said to have been a thing that was created, by God, by golly.

I don‘t follow the God crowd, so, to me, either the thing was made from evolution, circumstance, distance from the Sun, a person, or bug or animal, such as the dam made by the beaver.

We are getting closer and closer to the Sun as time passes. The gravity of the Sun draws Earth ever closer with each satellite revolution the Earth makes around the Sun. Changes will occur naturally. Eventually, we will be on the equivalent of Venus, no where to go, as things heat up. So, why not live peacefully and enjoy the ride, eventually, the ride will come to an end.

The only hope, is to develop powerful rockets that could push Earth a little farther away from the Sun... but.... what could go wrong?

Then, there is the Latin extension of the word “The”, it’s “El”.

The bastards like to simplify that word, “El”, it gets reduced simply to “L”.

So, sometimes, “L” is the same as “The”, in order for a Christian Cult Zealot to say the word “God”. But when they do that, it’s done in Vane, so, that means “Vain” also, for those language complications I tried to explain. It turns out, that a Christian terror soldier who says “L”, is also saying “Use wind, to make blood”.

The English language is weapon, so, listen carefully to those around you, especially in Oregon, where from Trinity County in California, to Salem where the state Capitol is, is all called “God’s County”, and is as close to a living hell as can be imagined, all while being so very beautiful to see.

After consideration of the “The” word, then, you need go towards the “Ology” part of “Theology”, and do some thinking. You can wind up back at “Olivia was killed, I can‘t help you”, and why there is an Olive at the bottom of the Queen‘s Martini. You could get to Oliver Twist from there, and Olive Oil, Popie’s girl friend who is forever sleeping with Brutus, or Bluto (they must be identical twins), but, Olive Oil comes in three varieties, Virgin < Extra-Virgin < and the beloved, Extra-Extra-Virgin (is very expensive). By the time the Olive Oil becomes Virgin, there is no more olive-oil left in the Olives to squeeze out, the olives are discarded after that.

It’s all part of the story of Theology and it’s evolution.

===

12-27-2020: 4:18 pm:

Someone paints a colorful scene on some terra cotta flower pots, collects some wild flowers from the woods, makes a bouquet, it goes in the pots... it’s more than gift when that person hands that to you, frightened.

It’s rocket science.

==========

12-27-2020: 6:42 pm:

This happened:

So I went over here, to see what’s going on... maybe Internet Explorer will work, but this happened:

So, I checked the “Find out why” button, and this happened:

For the federal officers, who are being jacked around by the local authorities, you need to know that the bastards stole about a thousand of my screenshots, similar to those above, yesterday when I accessed the Pose Photo Button. Some other asshole is going use some screenshots to fool you by saying they belong to Sean or Theresa, or Nicole Sparacino.

They are screenshots of advertised music gear, and Twitter news stories mostly.

Don‘t be a tetrahydronic Prism in a world controlled by Triangular Prisms, you will end up in the Trapezoidal Prism at Monroe’s terror cell.

They are spring loaded, made with stainless steel wire, and swords on garage door springs, are motion detector operated, they will tell you to “Go stand over there to get a look at the suspect”; that’s where the spring loaded snare is at, wherever the local authority tells you is best for a having a look. Victims are cut in two with just a piece of thin wire, on a spring, as they walk by, like a egg slicer.

The way the local fake authorities fool federal investigators and then kill them and their families includes that those screenshots that were stolen, (I watched the download happen, Centurylink accessed, and downloaded a lot of screenshots) can be switched out on the download, on the fly, live, from some other storage vault of kiddie porn that exists at Myers terror cell at 560 Jackpine (they have been kidnapping small girls from the nearby church for more than twenty years at 560 Jackpine and putting them into a outdoor garden shed over there) so that what actually winds up happening is the federal officers are shown those images, then later, when the federal officers are alone with some privacy, looking at porn, that is when the local fake authorities send the likes of Sean and nicole Sparacino over there, and those people are the Sneakiest Bastards On Earth, no other terror cell compares to those people for sneaky considerations.

So, literally, the Foolish Feds get caught with their pants down, and the Sparacino’s gas them. and attack, while dressed and disguised as a flock of wild turkeys.

That’s just one way. There are sooooo many ways to fool the feds when the State Police and County Sheriff are in charge of the foolery of the federal officers who are sent into traps, to come here, by their elected official leaders. The foolery comes from two ends. That is how the bastards “make ends meat” around here.

========

12-27-2020: 7:45 pm:

This for people sent to Oregon to see what the heck is going on around here:

First, you are in far more danger than you think you are.

I want to say about a phone call I received on Christmas day, from someone claiming to be family, I know there was at least one Stingray associated with the incoming call listening, I suspect there was more than one, but only one being operated by anyone who could help. Others in the hands of terror soldiers were also not only monitoring, but manipulating, participating in the call, with acting, scripted pre-arranged lines to say to fit whatever the local authority terror theme was. Also, on that call was the sounds of the terror soldiers who were hiding outside either my house, or some other house nearby, and their custom Blu-tooth style communication bleed over into the phone call I received.

I heard someone say: “I’m by the house”. That was buried with intrusive participation into the call with the so called “family member” saying that they bought a house to me on the call, introduced by the people who are fooling the federal officers who are obviously some where nearby and in contact with the local fake authorities, and is why I say you in greater danger than you know.

For those who can help, if you did not hear me saying that the terror army has taken control of all of the geographic area between the ends of the Interstate 5, from Mexico to British Columbia, then you were not listening to me, you heard someone else, you were fooled with electronics. I also talked about medical services are not available in Oregon, the doctors are fake, the police are fake, food is difficult to obtain, everyone is required to wear a face mask by State Government mandate, and other similar “I don‘t have any good news to say on this phone call” sort of subject matter. I explained about the sword fight at the end of the driveway and that fishing net that was being put there to put me into. I expressed extra distress specifying Josephine County beyond the conditions of the rest of the state being all terror controlled. If you did not hear that, you were not listening to me, you were listening to an act that was made possible by complicated electronics, actors from SAG, and terror soldiers who do whatever it takes to entertain federal officers.

It’s notable that when I get a call from that particular family member, the phone always goes blank with dead silence as I am speaking... eerie silence that is as if the call is not really happening, as if I am talking to the phone without a call connected. That silence condition has been present with that particular caller for about ten years.

I thought I heard someone say that the F-18 national Guard Fighter Jet Trainer that I bailed out of about fifteen years ago had been found in the Pacific where it fell, but that was brief and faint on the phone call, like hope, not really there.... but that airplane is in the Pacific unless someone retrieved it, and the instructions to find it are at an old Twitter account that was suspended awhile ago. There also might be instructions here on Tumblr, I have forgotten if I did put them here. Bruce Freeberg is the suspected airplane thief, I am not sure, I only know I had about less than five minutes to decide how to stop that airplane from being stolen, so, I got onto the airplane, so that I could get out of it. That way, the terror bastards don‘t get use that particular stolen airplane to kill US Citizens with.

So, you were fooled if that is different from what was heard on the incoming Christmas phone call.

===============

Let’s say that some federal investigate people were sent to Oregon from somewhere, say, Pittsburgh, and they got here to Oregon, checked in with Kate Brown representatives at State Police HQ in Salem, or, maybe at one of the five FBI Field Offices as they were instructed to do.

Where ever such persons checked in at, be it FBI Field Office or even if they just went into one of the convenience stores for some coffee, without checking in, tried to be stealth about it, either way, “they are not from around here”... it’s a Judge Thomas Hull style rule for terror soldiers to use.

The “You ain’t from around here, are ya boy?” method has a lot of sneaky parts to it. Everyone is a rank & file terror soldier here in Oregon, they look like old church people, they look like truck drivers, they look like tradesmen, and like kids on bicycles, but they are indeed all terror soldiers, most of the inhabitants of Josephine county knows the other inhabitants at least enough to identify that they are all “From around here” in a variety of ways.

There are scouts who go around in cars, and hang out in parked cars in the parking lots, the scouts use Smart Phones, everyone is supposed to have a Smart Phone, with proper setting information that will automatically make connection to the Smart Phone of the scouts. I don‘t have information about what will pass, and what gets marked. You are marked right away if you do not present a Blue-Tooth signal that is correct. Those who are marked, are followed and studied, prepared for take-out attack.

So, the federal people, simply by being here, and making a purchase, start to become the same as Red Marbles in a collection of All Green Marbles. The terror army begins right away to find out why there are Red Marbles in the collection, and from whence they came.

It would take them no more than two days to find the identity of who the outsiders are, even if they use cash to make purchase, cash is “forbidden“, so that is a Red Marble Flag. Anyone who comes to Oregon on commercial airline is marked and Identified before the airplane landed in Oregon, that is because the TSA is a agency under the parent agency Department of Homeland Security, and DHS is a major part of the terror take-over of USA. Air Traffic Controllers are also part of the DHS I think, not certain, but I do know for certain that Air Traffic Control is hijacked, part of the terror army nation wide.

There are no choices here in Oregon.

Such persons who come to Oregon would need to contact Pittsburgh at some point, but, the terror army is led by Broadcast Media, they have all of the communications locked up tighter than a bulls ass in fly season... you cannot make a phone call without it being heard by others. I doubt that even a personal satellite communication would get through unheard because the terror bastards are the people who put the satellites in orbit, and have access to the controls to them.

I am wanting to reach Pittsburgh here, on behalf of those who were sent here to Oregon. I know there are outsiders around by the way the terror cells around me are behaving, I don‘t know where they might be and would not say so if I did.

Let’s say those helpful people who were sent here are thought to have contacted Pittsburgh, and the people at Pittsburgh HQ are not concerned, all seems OK.

Don‘t do that, don’t feel like everything is OK, the terror can mimic, and they have horrible ways of making others do as they are told to do.

That scream I heard last night was different than other fake screaming that happens for “Save the Princess” where some screaming is part of the “Save the Princess”, everyone involved with those is a terror soldier, and the Princess is the one that does the kill most of the time. Anyone can “Princess”, could be a whole bus load of people who are stranded, and the bus is the “Princess”, is an attack against those who offer help. That scream was the most real terror scream I have heard in many years.

That scream is why I am going mention some detail, I don‘t want to, I need reach Pittsburgh though. If putsiders are captured, they are penned up somewhere, separated from their group. Typically, what I have seen is that the males are penned up, tortured, any females and children are forced to observe the torture. All who were captured are injected with heroin, even the ones who are tortured. they are exposed to nitrous/Versed gas mixture also. The ones who are tortured cannot feel much pain, that is part of the torture of the other people too, who observe their friends being subject to nails driven into their heads, everyone starts to say a lot of important information to the terror bastard by then. The ones subject to the nails are provided a mirror, so that they can see the nails that they cannot feel. It’s all fucked up like that. Happens at the house next to mine at 520 Jackpine, under direction of Myers terror cell next to that at 560 Jackpine. So, what made me share that is to advise those in Pittsburgh to listen very carefully to any contact that may occur. Other unseen things may be happening in the background.

There are other ways of torture to gain information. They have old world torture devices, if you can search and find it on Google search with “Torture Device” then the local terrorists made one, with a modernized twist. There was a “Rack” next door at 520 for many years, 9 feet stretch, not including arm length. I could hear when the knees pop loose, so, I get tortured too, to that extent of knowing it’s happening next door, and cannot do anything to stop it because I am outnumbered by 50,000 to 1.

I will be on the rack if I try to physically go there with my trusty fingernail clipper to fight with. You can‘t get a gun here, they are on the shelf in the case at the sporting goods stores, and are also part of the torture, because it’s right there, just out of reach, and you cannot get it, any attempt to purchase a gun, leads to:

“You ain‘t from around here, are ya boy?” and Honorable Thomas Hull will find a way to make sure you need his other service at Hull & Hull Mortuary Services, across the street from the courthouse on C Street.

Years ago, people came door to door, came into the homes, and took every thing that was sharp. Only a butter knife was allowed. Steak and chef knives all taken away. If you buy a knife sharpener, that will mark you for take-out.

Pittsburgh, don‘t rely on the communication, don‘t rely on local Oregon authorities. The good guys could be in a dire situation with no choices.

50,000 to one. Just in Josephine County, add Jackson, Douglass, and Klamath counties and it gets to 175,000 to one against me, and that is conservative estimate.

US Military is required.

Please send help.

Please send medical services.

Bring your own hospital.

====

9:39 pm:

national guard is not there anymore, they have not been there for about twenty years, any communication with Oregon national guard that suggests otherwise is a lie, is an act, to fool those who contact national guard. They can still procure new equipment and munitions as needed through the normal and customary means of getting equipment from national guard HQ command chain.

=====

12-27-2020: 9:55 pm:

Survival as a Red Marble in all Green Marbles advice:

Don’t go outside unless you need to.

For food, what I do, is difficult, but I’m not dead, so, I don‘t have other advice. Stay away from restaurants and fast food, canned food is probably safest. I choose the frozen chicken, Walmart brand, 5 lb bag, I stay mostly with that, the frozen Walmart brand vegetables are top grade, so I get that and stay alive doing it. Stay away from fresh bakery goods, packaged cookies seem OK, but they all seem to have some kind of way that is not exactly right, for me, all my teeth were shot out by the terror bastards, so, most of that is they are all too stiff, too crunchy, some seem like they make me sick in strange ways. But, I am going to have milk and cookies even if it kills me. The Walmart brand items mostly are OK, if not prepared in the store, and you have to check all of the packages for pin holes and safety seals before you buy the items.

The store is dangerous no matter where you go for food, but the Fred Meyer is more dangerous than Walmart, I have been hurt bad at Fred Meyer, seem to get out of Walmart without injury, but not without them trying to capture me. I suggest using a debit card over cash. The cash will mark you right away, the debit card has a delay to the ID of who used it, but there is that guy at the entrance with the tablet that scans for card chips in your pocket. I suggest a small metal case for carrying the debit cards. If no case, then stack as many cards as you can together to fool the scanning thing, even expired cards will help in a stack, I think. Be careful in every way.

Don’t buy fuel at AM/PM, your car won’t run, will stall, won‘t always start. Fred Meyer is best for fuel, but be prepared to physically fight, you need eyes in the back of your head, but the car will stay running if you are willing to fight for the fuel. There is no other way that I am aware of. I don‘t want to experiment at other stores, I have to learn each stores way of killing, so, learn, and defend is the best advice I have.

That is pretty much it. If you are in Oregon, and are an outsider, it’s only a matter of time before they hunt you down, so, know that too.

Personally, I don‘t go anywhere, ever, except to get some food, or go to a fake doctor, that is the scariest of all, the doctor is bad news, someone dies every time i go to the fake doctor. There are no more real doctors, all are somewhere held captive to treat terror soldiers, or worse.

Use a lighter, keep it in your hand while at the store. The terror army will come close, to gas you for a take-out at the register, so, when they get close, wave the lighter around briefly at waist high, that clears the whole aisle sometimes, nothing but abandoned shopping carts and falling ceiling tiles. The self checkout is scary, the other checkout with cashier is a place where the other terror soldiers (fake shoppers) get in line, to gas you in bulk, and the checkout lanes are lined with stuff, tall shelving that aides the gas to stay in that area in the line where you pay. If you can go to the store with a friend, that will greatly increase your survival chances, but they will try to separate you from your friend, don‘t allow that to happen. I choose the self checkout, but I did not like it at first, when they took away most of the cashiers, now, there are only about 4 cashiers aisles. sometimes only one is open.

Things are different now than they were this time last year at Walmart, so, older posts I made here may not reflect all of what I put here today.

The conditions have become gradually worse over time, this COVID situation is a nightmare, everyone mandated to wear masks as they try to kill you, and the entrance at the Walmart is reduced to just one door, one way in, one way out, and there are men who make sure you stay in the correct lane to get in or go out, they have special electronic tablet size thing, it scans debit and credit card chips while they are still in your pocket, all is cross referenced to ID data base and bank account info. There are at least 6 terror soldiers at the entrance to the Walmart, one tablet man, sometimes two of those guys, and at least one other vested person that is hanging around the entrance, and a number of Cart Jockeys who manage shopping carts there, those guys choose the cart for you, and park it right there for you, while saying “Welcome to Walmart”, there is someone there at the next entrance where actually go in to the shopping area. All of those people wear Walmart blue, some are yellow vests. That person at the actual store entrance past the shopping carts monitors, makes sure you have a mask over your face, if you have no mask, they give one to you to wear, you must wear a mask at Walmart, and everywhere, large or small stores, everywhere, by government mandate. There are signs everywhere that say so.

There is something extra special about the Walmart Pharmacy area, where over the counter remedies, shampoo, personal care items is at. The terror soldiers are like Velcro over there, they stick to you, if you go into one of those aisles, there will be instant other people that swarm there, and there seems to be always someone in each aisle, at least one, and, there is always a vested Walmart associate with a special kind of cart, has a ladder, has a place for a trash can on it, is a wheeled cart with ladder & trash can, has a shelf. The store associate is always on the ladder when I go in those aisles. There are no other places in the Walmart where I have seen those ladder/trash wheeled carts, only at the third aisle away from the actual pharmacy where prescriptions are faked. There are no real prescriptions filled at Walmart pharmacy, everyone in the line is for show. It’s all fake right there, and is higher concentration of terror soldier fake shoppers than other parts of the Walmart.

There is a cosmetics department, that area is a corral, it has four walls when you go in there. I suggest stay out of there. The hair dye and lip stick is not worth dying over.

You can still get a “Loaner Sword” if you are a special SAG terror operative at most or all of the checkout counters in the store. The cosmetics is where I see that most. They just go over to the cashier with some long narrow object, such as back scratchers that are hanging on display right near there, they take that, set it on the counter and say: “I need a loaner”, no more, and no less is spoken, perhaps a repeat of “I need a loaner”, then the cashier pulls a sword out from beneath the cabinet, lays it on the counter with the handle easy for the special SAG assassin to grab. The back scratcher is there only to fool the camera, as the sword is taken away from the check-stand, and the assassin goes to look through the store for the mark, with much assist from others in the store, and Oxcart service that follows. The people who do that tend to be very tall, well over six feet tall, male, over 50 years old, physically fit men, usually dressed with stylish comfortable leisure clothing such as cargo shorts mostly. If you look around the Grants Pass area, you can see these guys walking around on foot, older, tall men, casually dressed, in pairs. They are some kind of special mobile assassins on foot around the city, many of them scattered around, not hard to spot.

Those guys might be Vatican special assassins. They don‘t really fit the SAG vibe, and are Cookie Cutter Card Board Cut-Outs, they all look and dress the same basic way as the next one does. They are a lot like those weird women that accompany the Pope when he comes to Grants Pass, all the same, no personality, blank expression.

===========

12-28-2020: 12:48 am:

I put some Chip Bait in this entry, use it to catch big fish.

====

12:57: am:

Those “Loaner Swords” are not limited to Walmart!

They are everywhere at a service counter in a store, pretty much all of the retail stores have at least one “Loaner Sword” for SAG or Vatican special roving assassins who need one where ever they are called to service.

To my knowledge, there is at least one “Loaner Sword” hidden inside specially designed concealment compartments at the service counter of each and every pharmacy from Mexico to British Columbia along the west coast of USA.

========================

12-28-2020: 3:24 am:

Still trying to reach Pittsburgh.

I can‘t sleep after telling about the torture I witnessed for long next door at 520 Jackpine.

So, there is more to know about that, some is  mystery that others may find helpful about the torture rack. I saw it, it’s physically described elsewhere on this account, and there was more than one kind of torture rack. I have details about the 9 foot stretch that are significant somehow, so, as follows:

To start with, there is “Jesus was a Carpenter” considerations that I learned were of importance about it’s construction characteristics.

Then. there is some old 1960′s terror math that also seems to fit into the thing, in one way or another.

I’ll start with that: Terror in 1960′s began to remove & replace police officers with actors, and Vatican/British operatives in Los Angeles. So of course the math includes multiples of twelve for terror speak about that, so, “They come by the dozen“ is “Winchell Mahoney Time”, “Winchell’s Doughnuts”, “Windsor Royalty”, and gets into “Winston Churchill” areas of the Russian Hoax, and beyond and onto the beach at Malibu with addition of “Churchill Swim Fins w/Morey (Doyle) Boogie Board” (it goes on forever like that, could go to “dorsal fin”. “shark”, and “$5 bill” just from Doyle). So the math is 12′s for police. Those are feet. They gum on their shoes. It could turn out that the TV show called 24 is all about taking pairs of police, or, roleing out pairs of impostor police, with instructions within the episodes as marching orders. (that show was over the top, same with SAMCRO the bikers who sell arms to the Irish (Ireland is “the land of the angry people”))

now the carpenter math that is built in to the rack:

They made sure I understood it was a 9 foot max, not counting arm length.

So, most tract houses are built with 92 1/4″ studs, plus two top plate, and one mud sill, for total of additional 4 1/2″ of plate material, that grosses out to 96 3/4″, for a net wall height of 8′ 1″ after “lumber crown” of 1/4′ per 3 plates is added.

That’s for a tract house, typically 2000 sq, ft. or less.

9 feet walls happen in larger, more custom, or upscale homes.

That same math, but with use of 104 1/4″ studs, renders a wall height of 9′ 1″.

An additional foot of headroom for upscale dwellings, over a tract house of 2000 sq ft or less, is for the 9 foot ceiling height, which is what you get after the ceiling is covered with sheet rock, 9 feet.

I can see a number of religious connections to the math, but I can‘t do anything about what it seems to be saying, which seems to also go in more than one direction. Is multi-directional communication in the rack. Maybe that is the point, it pulls from two ways, like that “make ends meat” terror plan I mentioned earlier that seems to work so well.

I don’t think I have much more to say about that, without taking a three page ride in the Russian Mother of all Hoaxes by following the dots to see where they go.

I’ll go a little ways in there: That “Lumber Crown“ is actually called a “Cup”. The “Crown” is along the length of a piece of dimensional lumber, a carpenter must “Crown” every piece of lumber so that all studs, or joists, are all crowned with the lumber’s high spot going in the same direction, but I’ll leave the math the way I wrote it. The British Crown, knows all about that, they have been carpenters for a long time over there, so, they cling to ideas like that Crown. or that Cup, to do terror take over seeming simply because they are able to do so. The bastards control the whole lumber industry in Oregon, probably the whole nation. Brings new meaning to “Lumber Crown”. The “Lumber Cup” can be associated with young girls, the Holy Grail, and a lot of other religious connections to “The Cup” of a piece of lumber can be made.

Each piece of dimensional lumber has:

A Cup

A Crown

A Twist

A Bow

And Grain.

There is also wane on each piece, oddly, even if there is none there, in which case, it has no wane. Wax, on the other hand, is only on the wood if the carpenter puts it there, to make it slide across the surfaces, and into place.

All are important reasons why it’s said that “Jesus was a Carpenter”, but the truth I am pretty sure, is that the only thing the man ever built, was the cross that he was nailed to, hence, carpenter.

I’ll close out with that old TV show called “The FBI”.

From Wikipedia:

“Produced by Quinn Martin and based in part on concepts from the 1959 Warner Bros. theatrical film The FBI Story, the series was based on actual FBI cases, with fictitious main characters carrying the stories. Efrem Zimbalist, Jr. played Inspector Lewis Erskine, a widower whose wife had been killed in an ambush meant for him. Philip Abbott played Arthur Ward, assistant director to FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover. Although Hoover served as series consultant until his death in 1972, he was never seen in the series.”

Basically, the show served in some way as a “Vacuum” Hoover brand, according to Wikipedia, unless you really think J. Edgar had something to do with actually consulting.

The way I remember it, the people in The Valley where I lived dropped everything so they could watch that show. When I think about the way the people who where questioned in the series behaved at the time the investigators came by, it’s easy to see a connection to the way some of the older terror soldiers around here behave when they get around other people, they behave like they jumped right out of a 1965 FBI TV show, as if the show served as a training tool, mostly to show how to dance a move called “The Brush Off” to get rid of people who ask too many questions simply by looking and behaving “Holier Than Thou” when the police show up to ask some questions.

Lot’s of stuff at this link to think about. I wonder what IMDB.com has to say about the show.

(suddenly the links I make are working, that’s new)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_F.B.I._(TV_series)

[snmaposts]

Medical student keeps up academics and diversity work in spite of his own cancer diagnosis

Published Wednesday, Mar. 7, 2018,  1:21 pm Third-year student Omar Salman outside of the Virginia Tech Carilion School of Medicine

As a medical student at the Virginia Tech Carilion School of Medicine, Omar Salman had learned a lot about cancer: from what goes wrong at the cellular level to cause it as well as patient risk factors and treatment options.

Through the school’s patient-centered curriculum, Salman had explored real patients’ cancer experiences through clinical, scientific, and emotional lenses.

But cancer became something new when Salman got his own diagnosis of bone marrow cancer near the end of his second year of study. “I didn’t know what to do next. The school administration is great, but what am I supposed to tell them? I might be dying? It was weird,” Salman said. “You are torn between feeling like you are asking for special treatment but then you realize, I have cancer. Why am I so worried about school?”

Despite the diagnosis, Salman completed his second year of study, even passing the first phase of his national board exams, while undergoing treatment. This year, Salman’s third year of study, the school administration worked with him to rearrange his clerkship rotations in various medical specialties to help with his recovery.

The treatments have been successful and Salman is cancer-free. But the experience has given the future physician a window into the complex realities of recovery for patients.

“The only way I can think of the experience is that it was very humbling,” Salman said. “You realize there is so much outside of ‘You’re better now.’ Because what is ‘better?’ I think we in medicine often define ‘better’ as you no longer have cancer or high blood pressure because you took a pill or did chemo or radiation. Shouldn’t we also consider better to mean that our patients are coping well emotionally with what happened to them? That was, in the long run, the harder piece for me.”

Salman has relied on his classmates to help with both his physical and emotional recovery. “A lot of my classmates really stepped up. They would help me figure out how to work my oxygen tank and other medications or equipment. A big part of it for me is continuing to check in with people and being able to tell them when I’m not okay and recognizing that it is fine to have some good days and some bad days.”

Despite the whirlwind year, Salman received two big honors for his efforts in medical school, both in and out of the classroom.

In June, Salman was selected as a Point Foundation Scholar, recognizing his work to support the LGBTQ community. “For me, being part of an organization that is made up of LGBTQ people for LGBTQ people is particularly special,” Salman said. “I have a community of people who are similar to me with similar aspirations and who provide a network of support.”

When Salman came out as gay while an undergraduate student at Vanderbilt University, he faced some challenges, including his family cutting off ties with him. Since then, he has advocated for the community, particularly in regards to health disparities.

While at the Virginia Tech Carilion School of Medicine, Salman became chair of LGBTQ+ Issues for the American Medical Association and founded the VTCSOM Student National Medical Association, which focuses on diversity issues in medicine.

“Studies show there are better patient outcomes when patients feel like a provider is someone who understands them culturally or ethnically or religiously. We all can benefit from being in a more understanding and accepting society. We can be part of that as future physicians.”

Salman also volunteers for the Roanoke Diversity Center and is associate director for the Medical Society of Virginia Foundation (MSV), a philanthropic organization dedicated to improving patient access.

In October, the MSV Foundation awarded Salman a 2017 Salute to Service Award for Service by a Medical Student or Resident, recognizing him for his community involvement and work to advocate for health care equality. (See video about Salman and the award.)

Beyond his experience as a gay man, Salman saw health disparities firsthand growing up. He immigrated to the United States, the son of two Palestinian refugees living in Kuwait and then Jordan, when he was 8 years old. “I’m interested in the intersection of culture and medicine,” Salman said. “Where can we find the connection to create good health, not just the absence of illness, but the active prevention of illness.”

When Salman graduates in May of 2019, he plans to pursue a career in pediatric hematology and oncology to treat patients with diagnoses like his own and to help their families cope with their treatment, all while continuing his work to help underserved populations.

Salman also spends a great deal of time completing an in-depth research project in pediatric neurology. He is working with Stephanie DeLuca, research assistant professor at the Virginia Tech Carilion Research Institute and assistant professor of pediatrics for VTCSOM, on medical device research for children with cerebral palsy, in collaboration with Alan Asbeck, assistant professor of mechanical engineering.

“It is interesting when the body is fine but the brain is what is making the problems happen. For me, unraveling that mystery is really exciting and interesting. Especially with child neurology, you get a lot of diversity of conditions that show improvement with a mix of medicine and lifestyle modifications.”

Salman is one of two students this year to receive the VTC School of Medicine Charter Class Scholarship, a fund started by the school’s first class that graduated in 2014. These are the first scholarships to be awarded from the fund.

“As a member of the charter class and VTC alumnus, it is so great to see that our scholarship fund is starting to provide some support for current students,” said Matthew Joy, plastic and reconstructive surgery resident for Carilion Clinic-Virginia Tech Carilion School of Medicine. “The entire charter class benefited from scholarship support during the formative years of the medical school, so I know we all appreciate how much it means to medical students who can potentially be facing a mountain of educational debt as a result of their desire to pursue a career in medicine. Since we were so fortunate to have that support from the institution, I think it’s fitting that our class has its own scholarship to give some back.”

For Salman, scholarships give him an opportunity to reflect on his journey. “Sharing stories is really powerful. It keeps us human and accountable to our patients and to each other and to ourselves as future doctors,” Salman said. “For me, even applying to a scholarship is me writing out my story and reminding myself of what I want to do. Maybe someone will read your story and they can relate and see themselves pursuing something similar.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: Interconnect (ao3 link) - Chapter 7 Fandom: Flash, DC Legends of Tomorrow Pairing: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart

Summary: Fate has decided that Leonard Snart and Mick Rory are soulmates.

Yeah, okay, they’re good with that.

(for @coldwaveweek2017)

A/N: Instead of doing different fics for coldwave week, I decided to do one with multiple chapters, each based on the various days.

Chapter 7: Free Day

—————————————————————————————–

“Mick!”

Mick barely looks up from the medbay bed he’s been on the last few days, ever since the Legends flew the Waverider to STAR Labs after killing Savage. He’d been on 24/7 Gideon watch ever since they’d realized exactly how badly he was taking Len’s death.

Hell, that was even why they were here, at STAR Labs, instead of travelling the timeline fixing things the way Rip had originally wanted to. The other Legends were worried sick about Mick and didn’t want to go without him, so they’d overruled Rip and demanded they stay until Team Flash gave them an answer about how to fix Mick.

Not that they could.

It wasn’t something that could be fixed.

A lifetime of Len’s voice in his ear – gone.

Finished.

Exploded.

Mick always thought they’d go together.

“Mick!”

He shudders a little. He can still hear him sometimes, the echo of him.

“Mick! Damnit, you know how I hate it when you ignore me!”

That –

That wasn’t an echo.

Mick looks from side to side, making sure no one is paying attention to him, not even Gideon, and leans over to the plate of food he’s been uncharacteristically ignoring. “…Lenny?” he whispers to the fork.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for ages.”

“What, really?” Mick asks, alarmed. The Time Masters had talked about time-lag – about people growing old without realizing it – stuck in a loop –

“Yeah. It’s been, like, hours now.”

No, just Len’s typical ridiculous drama.

“I thought you got blown up,” Mick says. He’s still a bit wary, but – this feels right.

“I did,” Len confirms.

“Okay…and?”

“And what?”

“If you got blown up, you’re dead,” Mick points, quite reasonably in his mind. “If you’re dead, we can’t talk.”

“Uh,” Len says. “Actually…”

“You’re dead?”

“No. I mean, not really. Sort of. Has Barry ever discussed ‘the Speed Force’ with you?”

“…no?”

“Have him do that. And tell Cisco he owes me a rescue. And – oh, shit, gotta go.”

“What?! No! I just got you back!”

“Yeah, well, unfortunately, in the Speed Force, everything is the Speed Force, and said Speed Force doesn’t exactly appreciate me getting around the whole ‘death’ thing by talking to you.”

“...are you talking to me using Death as an object?”

“No,” Len says. “I’m not dead, I told you. Also, animate things don't work, you know that, and I'm not willing to try with possibly-animates. That being said, she did let me borrow her necklace so I could talk to you.”

“She? The speed force?”

“No, Death. Keep up.”

“I’m confused.”

“Yeah, this shit’s a mess. I’ll explain later. Shh, warden’s coming.”

Mick obediently shuts up.

Then he gets up.

“Gideon!” he roars with an energy he hasn't felt since Len's nattering voice cut off. “I need Barry Allen and Cisco Ramon, now!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Lisa," Len says. "Mick and I have a major life announcement to make."

"You're already married, neither of you can get pregnant, and you've already come back from the dead once," Lisa says, not looking up from her magazine. "Hit me with your best shot."

"We've decided to take someone into our little family," Mick says.

"Oh, adoption. Uh-huh," Lisa says, eyes still firmly on the pages. She even turns a page. "Sure you are."

"Why so skeptical?" Len asks.

"You're too wrapped up in each other to raise a kid," she says dismissively. "And you know it. So what is it really?"

"It's not a kid," Len says. "It's a dragon."

"Dragons don't exist."

"Cheep," little Smaug says.

Lisa pauses and finally puts the magazine down.

Len beams at her.

"Is that a mechanical dragon?!"

"Smaug here's an AI," Mick says. "Bleeding edge future tech from the year 3000."

"3004," Len corrects.

"Right."

"You - that - it can think?"

"He was gonna be discontinued," Len says.

"We decided to step up," Mick agrees.

"Oh god it can breathe fire, can't it," Lisa says flatly. It's not even a question.

"And ice," Len says cheerfully, and reaches over to tickle Smaug's belly.

For all that he has exposed mechanical parts - fancy looking gears and cogs and circuits which are probably more decorative than functional - the majority of Smaug is covered in a very realistic synthoskin that replicates the feel of baby-soft scales.

Smaug gurgles happily.

"If it's a computer, why is it acting like that?"

"He's an AI," Len corrects her. "And, well, he's not full grown yet. Still building up that processor power."

"It's a baby. A baby dragon AI."

"Yep."

"Yeah, no, I'm out," Lisa declares, throwing her hands up in the air and walking out.

They wait until fifteen seconds have passed and Lisa's stomps have mostly faded away into the distance.

"How long do you think we can pull this off before she realizes we only have him on loan until the time aberration's fixed?" Mick asks.

"At least a week," Len says confidently. "C'mon, let's go scare Team Flash."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door flies open with a crash.

Everyone in the room spins around to glare, their eyes filling with anger, the larger members of the group starting to stand and crack their knuckles with anticipation of a beating.

"Hi, there," the man at the door says. He's wearing a blue parka, rather unseasonable for the weather outside, and he's smirking like he knows something they all don't. "Please, don't let me interrupt your fascinating discussion."

"Oh, you interrupted all right," one of the biggest guys replies. "Who the hell are you?"

The new man's smirk widens. "No, no," he says. "Please, keep going - I'm sorry, were you talking about the evil conspiracy where the Jews run the world, or was it the way witches manipulate the world using their own persecution and deaths to win minor rhetorical arguments? The arguments are so similar I can scarcely tell, sometimes."

"Oh, great," one of them sneers. "One of you people."

"We've got a right to be here," one of the other members of the group bleats. "We're exercising our right to assembly and free speech. In fact, you're oppressing us by interrupting, which is the exact opposite of what you claim to value."

And then he smirks, satisfied and smug that he's made his point.

"Oh, no, no," the new man at the door says. "You mistake me entirely. I've donated literal diamonds to the ACLU in support of the idea that there isn't anything legally wrong with non-violent free speech, even where I think the content of that speech is disgusting. But here's the thing you assholes overlooked -"

"What?" a member sneers.

The man at the door pulls out a gun that glows a cold blue light. "I don't much care about what's legal, personally, and since I'm not the goddamn government, your ‘rights’ don’t mean jack shit."

"Captain Cold," someone gasps, putting the pieces together at last.

"The supervillain?! But he's from Central."

"He," Len says, "is on vacation, and beating up neo-Salemists - or neo-Nazis, honestly we never really cleared up which ones you are - is really just a perk."

The room erupts in chaos, only to be silenced when Len fires off a blast to the ceiling.

"I know this isn't going to help your unwarranted sense of persecution," Len says, musing. "But I just wanted you to know that I'm a queer black Jew who's also cursed, so, you know - yeah. I'm 'one of them' as one of you so eloquently put it."

The room flees for the back entrance only for a gout of flame to emerge from the gun of the large man standing watch there.

"Having all the fun without me?" he asks the gun in his hands.

"Hardly," Len tells his own gun in return. It's a big room, and Mick's getting over a sore throat; there's no need to shout. "You know that what's yours is mine."

"Yeah," Mick says, grinning at his prey. He's probably regretting their promise to Barry that they wouldn't kill or permanently harm any of them, but hey, that's life. Beating them up will be nearly as satisfying, and then with luck the lesson (don’t be a bigoted shit or else) will be absorbed in a wider scale. "Yeah, I know."

And then they move.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Aren’t you supposed to be mad at me?” Mick asks muzzily. They’ve been weaning him off the good drugs, but he’s still not entirely with it all the time. Illegal clinics are good for strong drugs, though they do have a tendency to cut it off too fast.

The clock on his bedside table huffs in offense. “I am,” it says. “But you know what these places are like! They’ll cut you off the drugs the second they think they can get away with it, which they won’t if they think you’re hallucinating.”

“Why would I be hallucinating?”

“Because you’re talking to random objects?”

“No random,” Mick says. “They’re you.”

“Sweet, but irrelevant when your medical practitioners have a very cleaned-up version of your medical history.”

"...oh."

"Anyway, what does me being angry at you have to do with anything?"

"Well," Mick says, marshalling his thoughts. "First off, you weren't yelling."

"Of course not," the clock sniffs. "I'd wear out my voice for all the yelling. Besides, I'm more the cool, calm, slinky sort of bad guy..."

Len's imagining himself as a James Bond villain again, Mick knows it.

The term 'slinky' gives it away, really.

"Second," Mick says, and the clock pauses in its daydream - no, Mick's not sure how he can tell, but he can - to listen. "Second, there's what you were talking about."

"What about it?"

"You were talking about your secret Harry Potter fan theory," Mick points out.

"So?"

"That's not 'angry person' conversation."

"I could list hockey stats instead," the clock offers, mild tone not hiding the bite.

"Harry Potter is fine," Mick says quickly, because it is. It's just weird, that's all.

It's not until Len has gone off in a flounce to yell at his latest crew - he's hooked back up with Scudder and Dillon for some godforsaken reason, which is only going to end with somebody dead, Mick knows it - that Mick gets it.

Len isn't talking just for the sake of talking.

He's chatty, yes, and he loves the sound of his own voice, but he doesn't monologue. He's a dialogue sort of guy - quips and puns and stuff like that.

No, that monologue was for Mick's benefit.

So he wouldn't feel alone, trapped in a hospital bed.

Mick snorts, fond smile spreading over his face as he shifts around a bit to get comfortable.

Len was honestly ridiculous sometimes.

Mick's not alone.

After all, Len's always there, all around.

Always.

[hetmusic]

Interview | Weirdo | HumanHuman

When Going Solo first added the name WEIRDO to HumanHuman three months ago, with the teasing comment “we got a hint here… music coming soon”, it’s safe to say we were nothing short of intrigued. The anticipation paid off when the anonymous artist released debut track “Butter” - an upbeat euro-pop single built on imaginative instrumentation and seriously catchy lyrics. Within a few days of WEIRDO’s musical premiere, this faceless act was labelled as a Promising Artist by our community of tastemakers.

Over the past few months, a few choice pieces of information have come to light. WEIRDO is the solo project of a British artist who has relocated to the creative hub of Berlin from Brighton, and excitingly there’s an EP on the way. However, the rest of the mystery remains in tact… at least for now. With a new track on our hands, the delightfully honest and danceable “Armanio”, we want to find out more about the musician behind the moniker, what inspires his songs, and how we can all embrace life’s weirdness.

Let’s start with a rather obvious question, why the name WEIRDO?

Haha, this old chestnut. Well, I think I’ve began to embrace my craziness and stop trying to label my issues negatively. Weird people rock. I’d hate to be a conveyor belt child doing manufactured things… and trust me, there are plenty of them! I think after a while of fighting that I should be "normal and controlled", it’s now time for me to accept and understand myself a little more, both personally and musically. I am a flipping WEIRDO, there’s no doubt about it and the best thing is that accepting it excels my creativity.

“I am a flipping WEIRDO, there’s no doubt about it and the best thing is that accepting it excels my creativity.”

Your identity is currently hidden, much to the outcry of the blogosphere, but why do you think artists follow the anonymous route?

I think it depends maybe… the reason I am anonymous is because I’m a part of a reasonably popular “buzz band” and I don’t want people to draw lines between the two. There is nothing worst than that! The issue in this music industry is people don’t give second chances and people always relate someone to something. If Corey Taylor from Slipknot did a minimal tech album now, people would laugh, make fun, put down or insult his creativity - why? because he wore a mask for a few years in his most-popular venture. Then you get people like James Bay whose first shot at a career very luckily paid off and people will never judge him as it’s his debut project, and he most likely will never change his brand. It’s so superficial this industry, and so anonymity is simply so that people understand the musical vision I have, before they go ahead, judge and give me a 0.4 /10 on Pitchfork or something...

I guess the online world plays a huge part in the mystery, how else do you think digitalisation is affecting the music industry?

The online world plays a huge part for sure. I can use emoticons to talk to someone and imitate happiness, sadness, anger or confusion… and that’s just a small fucking yellow image I add within my text conversations I’m having on a daily basis with anyone, everyone. The psychology of modern vocabulary and the use of emoticons is proof that you can hide or butter up (see what I did there!) anything. So online, you can create a fantasy world that people might indulge in, or show interest in. That really scares and inspires me simultaneously, and I think the digitalisation is actually improving yet sometimes creating a false identity for the music industry and it’s ever-growing young creatives. I just hope in the future, behaviour specialists or psychologists don’t actually take over the industry because they are smart and know how to win over modern society by creating false illusions using manipulative strategies. That’s basically the way news and media in the 21st century is heading already!

“It’s an intelligent pop affair, made of multicolor shades ranging from sticky vocals to euphoric synths, passing through live drums and finely adorned by swirling kalimba scales.”— Going Solo on “Butter”

Moving on to your music and especially debut track “Butter”. It’s a super catchy single, throwing out a xylophone melody, a German vocal sample and (what I’m guessing is) a recorder riff. Was this level of playfulness your initial intention?

Haha a recorder riff?! Where’s that? I will actually make sure there’s a recorder in one of the next songs on the second EP - that’s a promise from me to you. I think there’s irony and sarcasm in some of my lyrics and productions. With Butter, which I initially wrote in 2010 after a horrific break-up, the original demo was quite dark and edgy. I think as I’ve moved on and my life has changed, it’s become more of an uplifting song; a tale of how I once loved but now don’t with said person. I think that’s where the playful elements come from - the joy of being free and confident in myself again.

“I think that’s where the playful elements come from - the joy of being free and confident in myself again.”

“Butter” also has a rather unique refrain - “like butter melting through my fingers all you do is dirty my clothes” - what inspired that lyric?

At the time, it was anger and disappointment. It’s a rather cool attempt at making a statement, and I like creating unusual metaphors within my work. I think everyone can relate to an ex, or a friend, or a family member who just seems to get in the way, stop you from growing, control you or upset you. I like to try and relate to people with lyrics.

I loved the original video based around a Snapchat story and text messages. Was that simply a fun concept or is there an additional commentary on mobile phone culture and modern relationships?

There is definitely a suggestion to the social media culture and modern relationships and the irony of them. I’m a hopeless old-fashion romantic; I want to go for dinner and talk about music and wine, dream of waking up in the Bahamas and imagine a day I would begin to go to dance classes or something very new to me. I want to see the world through my eyes, not society’s eyes, and definitely not through the lens of my mobile phone camera. I can’t really stand social media because it’s taken away my privacy in all honesty, and that’s something we lack in today’s world, but also it’s helped share and expand my music and audience, so who am I to complain? I do daydream of going off grid and never talking to anyone again unless in person - that’s a healthy and satisfying thought for me.

In a previous interview with BEAT Magazine, you mentioned that you once lived in Brighton, a place well-known for self-expression. Did your time there have an influence on your music?

My time there definitely taught me that not everything you think is perfect, is perfect. It’s a wonderful city but musically, holds restraints. Rock cultured (thanks to the mods and rockers thing in the 60/70s), a student town and very small. Being there at that time helped my musical journey for sure - it started it. I’m happy I had the chance to work with and meet who I met there, but I’m glad that I moved on. It’s the same as London for me, a lovely place but it had it’s place in my life and after growing out of it quickly, I had to move on.

If you could live and create music anywhere in the world, where would that be?

Man! I want to see the whole world. If I could do one album per continent, that would be amazing. I think I’d definitely find opposing ideas from living in different places with adverse social rules to what I know as a Westernised working class fella. Let’s go to Tokyo next and after that, lock myself on a small island in Indonesia. I’ll try the US at some point but worried I’ll get fat very easily (I love food!) Visiting Africa would be really rewarding for me too, I’m sure!

What else has been instrumental in your creative process?

The standard thing: seeing other people succeed when you feel you deserve it more, watching people fail you and hurt you, other people’s situations you can relate to because of prior experiences and emotions. Also, the coming of age thing. I’m now mid-twenties and the feeling of realising who you are in such a large, selfish world can help you repair yourself, focus in on yourself and the ones around you that you care about most, and really getting creative with those discoveries.

We were very recently treated to a second single “Armanio”, crammed with one-liners and a repeated suggestion that the addressee should ditch her boyfriend. Why do not-so-great relationships stand at the centre of your songs?

I’ve had plenty of them. I have Borderline Personality Disorder (adds to the weirdness!) and I have a self-destructive tendency and waves of recklessness from time to time. I’ve got a heart but I can be trouble too, although I’ve learnt to grow and be in control of the bad traits now! I’ve been in a pretty content place for a few years, I’m starting to analyse others more and writing about their coming of age, mistakes and things I can see I used to do myself. It’s a beautiful thing to see people that are going through the same things as you. It’s helps deflate your ego and come back down to earth.

As with the last release, “Armanio” is tagged as pop, although some would suggest there’s plenty of other elements in there. What are your thoughts on genre labels?

Pop stands for “popular music” and if you asked me what genre I believe my music is, I’d title it Pop, more so because I dream of it being popular - who doesn’t?! I want everyone to know my story. I’m a human after all! We all want to be successful on our pursuit for happiness. I think you could tag the music as homemade, as it pretty much is. Indie, for sure, I’m independent right now but again, that title I don’t really enjoy too much. If I get a life changing opportunity and the label in question isn’t an “indie” label, then I’ll be told that I’m a fraud or fake for not sticking with my preconceived idea of being an “indie” band. If I turn down something, I could miss my chance to actually travel the world! I’m just gonna go with my heart: can’t have the media singing my own song “Armanio” at me!

“Up-beat, joyful pop that aims for the fun instead of the glitter and glamour of glossy pop.”— Disco Naivete on “Armanio”

Does the multi-coloured artwork have any relation to your sound?

Not at all, but once I entered the music industry and realised how it actually works beyond your fabricated fantasies of champagne, cocaine and happiness, I began to wear dark colours. The colourful thing shows I’ve got a playful side and now that I’m older, I want to show it off, feel happy and seem happy, and do things differently around here. It’s easy to be sad, feel sorry for yourself and write a ballad - that’s secondhand nature to me - but writing upbeat songs is much more challenging to me. I bloody enjoy it right now!

Can we expect some more visuals in the future?

For sure. I’m collaborating with some directors in the US, and some other guys too and videos are on their way for future tracks.

How about new music? Can you give us a clue as to what the next WEIRDO song will sound like?

Once again, the sound will alter, change, grow and surprise. If it didn’t, it wouldn’t be weird enough to comprehend my creative process. Every song will tie together because it’s my vocals, or I’ll use the same “sound palette” as before, but it will grow. It’s all based around how I envision it live, which will be the strong point of this whole thing. The band, the live experience, the fun I can take in the tour bus with me. That’s all I’m looking forward to right now - my future holiday on the road, sleepless nights and so many different lights.

https://humanhuman.com/articles/interview-weirdo

[dent-de-leon]

voltron zombie apocalypse au headcanons? o:

SOrry this got kinda long,,, but: 

lmao ok but first off if its zombies then keith is definitely doing very glenn like things—fast enough to go on supply runs, reliable friend in the group, good at improvising and super resourceful. 

the outbreak happens while lance, pidge and hunk are still at the garrison, so keith rides out most of it in the shack by himself. its just him and he knows the layout of the land so its pretty easy for him to stay there or hide someplace else nearby for a short time. 

shiro’s still missing and keith finds him again months later, though he doesnt seem to know how fast the virus spread. they stay in the shack for a while, but then the garrison trio breaks in because—well, garrison has been compromised so its no longer the safest place and!! hey!! free little house stocked with lots of food and essentials!! 

it in fact is not free, and keith tries to run them out several times until shiro lets them stay. they try to make that work for a bit, but they end up leaving the shack and just drifting between towns. keith misses it

id say shiro probably got bitten at some point and thats why he loses the arm. 

he doesnt amputate it himself though, it happens in the facility that developed the virus and shiro was just the poor guy they were running tests on. 

you know what? lets just throw aliens in here too. they’re still a thing, but the virus is just something they create to get rid of all the humans before they colonize. 

keith’s galra genes also give him a natural immunity to the virus, but its a while before he realizes it.

pidge’s family is still missing in this au. Everyone always tries to get her to Stay with the Group but if she finds a new lead on her family she will just get up and go. sometimes it takes the team over a week or two to find her.

shiro and hunk are the best trackers usually, but sometimes lance or keith will accidentally run into her first

other times she’ll just like, show up again after three week and be like “hi guys, i went for a walk” 

lance is all for welcoming new team members, but hunk hates it. lance is very much “the more people you have the better” and hunk is very “hey, remember the last time you thought you made friends and they just stole your stuff and left?” 

new members basically become a temporary thing, and they always have to be run by hunk and shiro first (hunk because he’s been proven right way too many times).

lance is still a “sharpshooter” so he’s probably the one you want to have your back in a fight and he also makes really good use of a scarce amount of bullets. 

lance backs keith up on supply runs a lot 

pidge and hunk hoard any tech they can tinker with and fix old communicators and cars and stuff 

keith and shiro are unfortunately still only good at close combat, and keith is also a terrible shot. which is like, really bad when everyone else is using guns. they get creative and figure it out though. 

lance tries to teach keith how to shoot. it doesnt go very well. theyre working on it

lance also teaches pidge, although shiro wasnt happy about it. 

hunk is pretty good with aim but he always ends up using more bullets than he needs (he kinda panics). 

shiro still has the weaponized arm and keith uses a sword. pidge is one of those Everything is a Weapon if you Throw it types, so she usually just grabs something, sets traps, ect. really makes use of her surroundings.

shiro’s PTSD is still very much present 

keith has a lot of trust issues and he’s still pretty impulsive 

one day keith gets bitten saving shiro. its on his neck, so they can’t very well just cut it out like shiro’s arm. keith offers to just shoot himself right away, but the team won’t hear of it. 

shiro sends everyone else away (though they fight him about it) and finds a nice, quiet, safe place for keith to rest in until he turns. he falls asleep to the lull of shiro’s soothing voice, gentle fingers threaded through his hair. and shiro waits. and waits. annddd…”ok well,,, you’re not dead i guess?” “I’m not??? weird” 

so they realize he’s immune, which is pretty nice until other people find out and then they have a whole other problem

[sweetlifetownsville]

To End The Year, A Mini-Magpie With A Mini Mystery.

Has mega-fraudster Craig Gore skipped Australia? And if so, why hasnt this been reported in the media especially since he is supposed to have made a midnight flit the very day after a judge refused to allow him to leave? In other matters, one has to admit that the Townsville Bulletin is consistent it has ended the year as it started, continuing its weekly Olympic-standard shambles. And Mongrel the Barrister has left us lawyer Mark Donnelly, the man who inspired a much loved Magpie character has passed away. and our final visit to Trumpistan for 2018. But first Its hard to keep a good man down, and our fav toonist Bentley is nothing if not a good man. Even in the holiday season, he casts his jaundiced eye over the news, and brings us a different and rib-tickling perspective. This week, he was much taken as most of us were with the drone drama at Gatwick Airport in the UK. A professional drone was reported in the airports approach and departure air space, and thousands of travellers were stuck when the whole shebang was shut down for a couple of days while the wallopers tried to go hi-tech and trace the source of the bastardry. Its not fully sorted yet, but Bentley thinks the drone may have already met its fate.

Why Arent All The Gore-y Details Available?

Will ye no come back agin, laddie? Now to our mini-mystery. On December 19, this report appeared in the Courier Mail. Judge denies disgraced former rich-lister Craig Gore request to travel overseas Vanessa Marsh, The Courier-Mail December 20, 2018 2:21pm A DISGRACED former rich-lister accused of ripping off almost $800,000 from investors has broken down in court after a judge refused his request to leave the country to visit family. Lawyers for alleged fraudster Craig Gore today launched an application in the Queensland District Court, seeking for the former businessmans bail conditions to be altered to allow him to travel to Sweden to visit his wife and children. But Judge Paul Smith denied the request, saying Gore faced a long time in prison if convicted and there was a real risk he would not return to Australia to face trial. Gore is facing 12 charges of fraud over allegations he swindled about $800,000 from self-managed super fund investors in 2013-14. He also faces three charges of managing companies while disqualified. Now that seems pretty definitive and eminently sensible. But The Magpie was informed two days later, by a regular contact and mate who has always been on the money in the past, that Gore went back to court the next day on another application, and had his passport returned so he could be with his family in Sweden at Christmas. He was to return in three months to face trial and possibility of a lengthy striped suntan. The Pies contact says Gore was on a flight out of Brisbane that night at 11pm, accompanied by a lawyer (that was apparently part of the arrangement) who will return with certain paperwork. Gore will be expected to make his own way back to face his fate in March. Yeah, right. Now all that is as it may be, BUT THIS SPECTACULAR REVERSAL OF A JUDGES IMPLACABLE DECISION HAS BEEN NEITHER EXPLAINED OR APPEARED IN THE MEDIA. Well, not that The Magpie can find, after days of searching to verify. If it is true, there will be a hell of a lot of very pissed off people Gores victims and the tireless investigators who nailed him who know just how long are the odds that we will ever see this shyster again. Shades of Skase!! Perhaps we will never know how this came about if it did come about because there will be a lofty judicial silence of unaccountability if he is a no show but surely the second hearing was an open court? Hard to fathom why it wasnt reported. Mongrel The Barrister Is No More The Magpies good mate Mark Sludge Donnelly the man who partially inspired the popular Magpie character Mongrel the Barrister, died in his family home in Cairns last weekend. It is fair to say that Mark was my best mate in the halcyon days of Portraits Bar in the Exchange Hotel all through the Noughties, the years when I was reporting court matters for the Bulletin. We were part of a memorable and disparate group, the bar crowded with our marvellously mixed group every Thursday, Friday and sometimes Saturday nights. (The fondly remembered Portraits became Poseurs Bar in the newspaper column and then in this blog.) Mark was universally known as Sludge, which he happily answered to, but never fully explained, even to me, its origins apparently it had something to do with a memorable comment from a lecturer or senior teacher suggesting Marks behaviour at that time some comparable to something from the bottom of a pond. Sludge was one of the wittiest people Ive known, and his memory was nothing short of astounding, not just for quoting legal precedents but in all things, particularly pop music. He always commandeered the music machine at parties, and was a pretty good DJ. He also had an eye for a well turned ankle, and his way of getting ladies to talk about themselves endeared him to more than one. Like many a member of the Portraits push, Mark liked a drink, and some believed he was a bit too enthusiastic in this direction. But I would say that rather than having a battle with the bottle, he just had frequent skirmishes with it, as we all did and any excess rarely affected his work at the other more sedate bar, where he often shone. Mark left Townsville when his father died, to live with his mother in the family home in Cairns. He didnt practice in Cairns, and went into virtual retirement, which was plagued by ill health for some time. He returned to Townsville annually for his birthday, but I lost touch in the past few years, for which I feel a bit miserable now. Sludge is now undoubtedly arguing the finer points about the Laws of Entry with St Peter for that is certainly where this witty, soft-hearted old friend of mine now is because we all know God loves a larrikin. Mark was 62. They Really Dont Understand Language at The Astonisher, Do They? And they even get the wrong WORD for a headlines. Even when theyre trying to make a pun, which kinda depends on the right word, yes? But we got a headline quoting some bizoid saying Townsville is bracing for a great 2018. Bracing for? Ahem. Youve managed to say EXACTLY THE OPPOSITE of what you meant. Heres the dictionary definition of bracing. verb[withobject] prepare (someone or oneself) forsomethingdifficult or unpleasant:both stations arebracingthemselvesforjoblosses|policeare braced fora trafficnightmare. So although this paper goes through life like a bouncing Hari Krishna whos visited the medicine cabinet once too often, giving us totally unquestioning, unexamined glop about our economy (usually from someone with a vested interest), it seem to have inadvertently hit on the truth here. However, the most tedious aspect of the paper of late is the dreary attempts at humour in headlines, particularly about crime, a subject no one in Townsville with the exception of you folks in Flinders Street, finds the least bit funny. AND EVEN THEN, LANGUAGE FAILS YOU let alone a sharp sense of humour.Take this major front page fail on Thursday.

Swindler? My dear headline writer, stay with me on this and read slowly, feel free to move your lips as you must. Now lets see, a swindler is someone who fiddles some unsuspecting victim out of something. That person would be called a fiddler, and if hidden in a ceiling, could be described as ta da a Fiddler In The Roof. You see, this would then coincide with the hit musical of the same name oh, how we would have all fallen about, clutching our sides in mirth, and holding your superior wit in such esteem!!! But swindler? Now weve just got a headache from smacking our foreheads yet again. And this one in simply NOT TRUE. This online

The actual number of people who said (or may have said, who knows, its probably a fiddled fantasy anyway) was 55% of the 700 or so people who responded to a totally uncontrolled survey. If there area 220,000 potential readers (ha! you wish) in the circulation area, the percentage is not even .5 of one percent. But we all know that the on-line edition is sloppy, so the paper itself will temper the outlandish claims, wont it? Errr no.

This is simply lying, and treating people like morons. And still they wonder But barely have we swallowed our anger before we start scratching our heads over weird genuinely weird stories like this, which would suggest that English isnt TEL boss Patricia OCallaghans first language, or she was suffering mild sunstroke when she was penned the media release from which the story was transcribed.

This story is selective twaddle certainly straight off an unedited media release from the Dudley Do Nothings, meaningless twaddle in which Ms OCallaghan specialises. It has often been said of her that she has the gift of the gab, and aint that the truth, just about all of what she has to say, in The Pies experience, is just that meaningless gabble that sounds good until it is more thoughtfully examined. Like this: The Museum of Underwater Art, located within the heart of The Great Barrier Reef, is a proposal based on the works of international sculpture and underwater artist Jason deCaires Taylor. Whats that bit located in the heart of the Great Barrier Reef? Has there been a Krakatoa-like geographic shift we havent noticed? The Underwater Museum, one of several planned along the coast, will be, at last report, just of Maggy Island, the GBR is a at least an hour or more away by fast cat . But in it goes to the story, with a newbie cub reporter just churning out this PR bumf. But wait, theres more. We then get this prize piece of meaningless gabble from the top executive charged with attracting and promoting tourism to Townsville: Its a project that is going to enhance the Great Barrier Reef experience and also educate visitors on how we manage and live with the reef everyday Ms OCallaghan said. That is absolute poppycock that is totally meaningless. And We? Bloody WE? FFS, girl, get a bloody grip. Insulting, uppity tripe from Ms OCallaghan and lazy, presumably unsupervised reporting (read: select all, copy and paste) by a very uncurious junior reporter (read: stenographer). Really, a monkey using scrabble board wouldve made more sense. The clusterfuck continues no wonder were so deep in the shit. Other matters As if golf didnt already have enough hazards.

Words of Wisdom From Two Funny Men

Frankie Boyle The cleverest quote of the week comes from the Scottish comedian Frankie Boyle in the Guardian. But first, his preamble touched a chord for The Magpie, who can vouch for it when Mr Boyle writes: The plight of the satirist, such as it is, is a compulsion to look at the grimmest, most important thing they can think of, and then for reasons that probably wouldnt survive a really good therapist, try to make it funny. To try to address the iniquities of their society, the satirist must manufacture some hope that what theyre doing might make a difference, then type it all up and send it off somewhere before they remember that it never does. Looking back over the events of this year is a bit like holding a doll for a therapist and pointing to where the bad man hurt you. Mr Boyles point is a universal one, which can be shared by Townsvilleans looking back over the past shambolic year. But his prize quote is so subtle, that you may have to think about for a while The Pie roared after a few seconds. The murder ofJamal Khashoggiby Saudi Arabia is another very difficult subject to find the lighter side of, unless someone in the Ecuadorean embassy has clipped the story out and stuck it to the fridge. (Sigh) Dear Mystified of Mysterton, it means that the Ecuadoreans might be giving their Wikileaks guest Julian Assange a hint.

Dave Barry The other funnyman worth a quote is the inimitable Dave Barry , the American columnist who talks about Florida the way The Magpie talks about Townsville only he is far funnier, proof being that The Magpie pinches more of his lines (many) than he does of The Magpies (none). This was his challenge to a graduating class, but it can just as well apply to the year 2019. How are you, Class, going to respond when the Clock-Radio of Challenge emits the Irritating Buzz of Opportunity? Are you going to roll over and hit the Snooze Button of Complacency? Or are you going to wake up and, after performing the Bodily Functions of Preparedness, boldly grasp the Toothbrush of Tomorrow? And no matter what you do in the coming year, make sure youre always politically correct, so no snowflakes will melt before your harsh words.

And So To This Week In Trumpistan First, compare Trump as Commander In Chief of real US soldiers, on his surprise visit to Iraq

Guess whos wondering if she packed the shampoo? with this.

And now to our final gallery of the year about the man Frankie Boyle described as this troll-doll King Lear, who looks like something youd pick off a baking tray after cooking pizza above it.

And Finally How The Hell ? The Pie has been occasionally upbraided for the use of naughty words in this blog well, one word in particular. He is aware that it can be confronting, but it is the other F word Frustration that compels him to sometimes resort to other for emphasis. Anyway, so what, if its good enough for Sesame Street, its good enough for The Pie. .. So that was the year that was, and what a rip-snorter we have coming up. Turns out this edition wasnt so mini after all. Comments run throughout the holiday break 24/7, so you dont have to wait to have your say. And the New Year will look even rosier for the old bird if you think the Nest is worth a small donation to keep it neat and tidy. The how to donate button is below. HAPPY NEW YEAR, YALL. http://www.townsvillemagpie.com.au/to-end-the-year-a-mini-magpie-with-a-mini-mystery/

[sweetlifetownsville]

To End The Year, A Mini-Magpie With A Mini Mystery.

Has mega-fraudster Craig Gore skipped Australia? And if so, why hasnt this been reported in the media especially since he is supposed to have made a midnight flit the very day after a judge refused to allow him to leave? In other matters, one has to admit that the Townsville Bulletin is consistent it has ended the year as it started, continuing its weekly Olympic-standard shambles. And Mongrel the Barrister has left us lawyer Mark Donnelly, the man who inspired a much loved Magpie character has passed away. and our final visit to Trumpistan for 2018. But first Its hard to keep a good man down, and our fav toonist Bentley is nothing if not a good man. Even in the holiday season, he casts his jaundiced eye over the news, and brings us a different and rib-tickling perspective. This week, he was much taken as most of us were with the drone drama at Gatwick Airport in the UK. A professional drone was reported in the airports approach and departure air space, and thousands of travellers were stuck when the whole shebang was shut down for a couple of days while the wallopers tried to go hi-tech and trace the source of the bastardry. Its not fully sorted yet, but Bentley thinks the drone may have already met its fate.

Why Arent All The Gore-y Details Available?

Will ye no come back agin, laddie? Now to our mini-mystery. On December 19, this report appeared in the Courier Mail. Judge denies disgraced former rich-lister Craig Gore request to travel overseas Vanessa Marsh, The Courier-Mail December 20, 2018 2:21pm A DISGRACED former rich-lister accused of ripping off almost $800,000 from investors has broken down in court after a judge refused his request to leave the country to visit family. Lawyers for alleged fraudster Craig Gore today launched an application in the Queensland District Court, seeking for the former businessmans bail conditions to be altered to allow him to travel to Sweden to visit his wife and children. But Judge Paul Smith denied the request, saying Gore faced a long time in prison if convicted and there was a real risk he would not return to Australia to face trial. Gore is facing 12 charges of fraud over allegations he swindled about $800,000 from self-managed super fund investors in 2013-14. He also faces three charges of managing companies while disqualified. Now that seems pretty definitive and eminently sensible. But The Magpie was informed two days later, by a regular contact and mate who has always been on the money in the past, that Gore went back to court the next day on another application, and had his passport returned so he could be with his family in Sweden at Christmas. He was to return in three months to face trial and possibility of a lengthy striped suntan. The Pies contact says Gore was on a flight out of Brisbane that night at 11pm, accompanied by a lawyer (that was apparently part of the arrangement) who will return with certain paperwork. Gore will be expected to make his own way back to face his fate in March. Yeah, right. Now all that is as it may be, BUT THIS SPECTACULAR REVERSAL OF A JUDGES IMPLACABLE DECISION HAS BEEN NEITHER EXPLAINED OR APPEARED IN THE MEDIA. Well, not that The Magpie can find, after days of searching to verify. If it is true, there will be a hell of a lot of very pissed off people Gores victims and the tireless investigators who nailed him who know just how long are the odds that we will ever see this shyster again. Shades of Skase!! Perhaps we will never know how this came about if it did come about because there will be a lofty judicial silence of unaccountability if he is a no show but surely the second hearing was an open court? Hard to fathom why it wasnt reported. Mongrel The Barrister Is No More The Magpies good mate Mark Sludge Donnelly the man who partially inspired the popular Magpie character Mongrel the Barrister, died in his family home in Cairns last weekend. It is fair to say that Mark was my best mate in the halcyon days of Portraits Bar in the Exchange Hotel all through the Noughties, the years when I was reporting court matters for the Bulletin. We were part of a memorable and disparate group, the bar crowded with our marvellously mixed group every Thursday, Friday and sometimes Saturday nights. (The fondly remembered Portraits became Poseurs Bar in the newspaper column and then in this blog.) Mark was universally known as Sludge, which he happily answered to, but never fully explained, even to me, its origins apparently it had something to do with a memorable comment from a lecturer or senior teacher suggesting Marks behaviour at that time some comparable to something from the bottom of a pond. Sludge was one of the wittiest people Ive known, and his memory was nothing short of astounding, not just for quoting legal precedents but in all things, particularly pop music. He always commandeered the music machine at parties, and was a pretty good DJ. He also had an eye for a well turned ankle, and his way of getting ladies to talk about themselves endeared him to more than one. Like many a member of the Portraits push, Mark liked a drink, and some believed he was a bit too enthusiastic in this direction. But I would say that rather than having a battle with the bottle, he just had frequent skirmishes with it, as we all did and any excess rarely affected his work at the other more sedate bar, where he often shone. Mark left Townsville when his father died, to live with his mother in the family home in Cairns. He didnt practice in Cairns, and went into virtual retirement, which was plagued by ill health for some time. He returned to Townsville annually for his birthday, but I lost touch in the past few years, for which I feel a bit miserable now. Sludge is now undoubtedly arguing the finer points about the Laws of Entry with St Peter for that is certainly where this witty, soft-hearted old friend of mine now is because we all know God loves a larrikin. Mark was 62. They Really Dont Understand Language at The Astonisher, Do They? And they even get the wrong WORD for a headlines. Even when theyre trying to make a pun, which kinda depends on the right word, yes? But we got a headline quoting some bizoid saying Townsville is bracing for a great 2018. Bracing for? Ahem. Youve managed to say EXACTLY THE OPPOSITE of what you meant. Heres the dictionary definition of bracing. verb[withobject] prepare (someone or oneself) forsomethingdifficult or unpleasant:both stations arebracingthemselvesforjoblosses|policeare braced fora trafficnightmare. So although this paper goes through life like a bouncing Hari Krishna whos visited the medicine cabinet once too often, giving us totally unquestioning, unexamined glop about our economy (usually from someone with a vested interest), it seem to have inadvertently hit on the truth here. However, the most tedious aspect of the paper of late is the dreary attempts at humour in headlines, particularly about crime, a subject no one in Townsville with the exception of you folks in Flinders Street, finds the least bit funny. AND EVEN THEN, LANGUAGE FAILS YOU let alone a sharp sense of humour.Take this major front page fail on Thursday.

Swindler? My dear headline writer, stay with me on this and read slowly, feel free to move your lips as you must. Now lets see, a swindler is someone who fiddles some unsuspecting victim out of something. That person would be called a fiddler, and if hidden in a ceiling, could be described as ta da a Fiddler In The Roof. You see, this would then coincide with the hit musical of the same name oh, how we would have all fallen about, clutching our sides in mirth, and holding your superior wit in such esteem!!! But swindler? Now weve just got a headache from smacking our foreheads yet again. And this one in simply NOT TRUE. This online

The actual number of people who said (or may have said, who knows, its probably a fiddled fantasy anyway) was 55% of the 700 or so people who responded to a totally uncontrolled survey. If there area 220,000 potential readers (ha! you wish) in the circulation area, the percentage is not even .5 of one percent. But we all know that the on-line edition is sloppy, so the paper itself will temper the outlandish claims, wont it? Errr no.

This is simply lying, and treating people like morons. And still they wonder But barely have we swallowed our anger before we start scratching our heads over weird genuinely weird stories like this, which would suggest that English isnt TEL boss Patricia OCallaghans first language, or she was suffering mild sunstroke when she was penned the media release from which the story was transcribed.

This story is selective twaddle certainly straight off an unedited media release from the Dudley Do Nothings, meaningless twaddle in which Ms OCallaghan specialises. It has often been said of her that she has the gift of the gab, and aint that the truth, just about all of what she has to say, in The Pies experience, is just that meaningless gabble that sounds good until it is more thoughtfully examined. Like this: The Museum of Underwater Art, located within the heart of The Great Barrier Reef, is a proposal based on the works of international sculpture and underwater artist Jason deCaires Taylor. Whats that bit located in the heart of the Great Barrier Reef? Has there been a Krakatoa-like geographic shift we havent noticed? The Underwater Museum, one of several planned along the coast, will be, at last report, just of Maggy Island, the GBR is a at least an hour or more away by fast cat . But in it goes to the story, with a newbie cub reporter just churning out this PR bumf. But wait, theres more. We then get this prize piece of meaningless gabble from the top executive charged with attracting and promoting tourism to Townsville: Its a project that is going to enhance the Great Barrier Reef experience and also educate visitors on how we manage and live with the reef everyday Ms OCallaghan said. That is absolute poppycock that is totally meaningless. And We? Bloody WE? FFS, girl, get a bloody grip. Insulting, uppity tripe from Ms OCallaghan and lazy, presumably unsupervised reporting (read: select all, copy and paste) by a very uncurious junior reporter (read: stenographer). Really, a monkey using scrabble board wouldve made more sense. The clusterfuck continues no wonder were so deep in the shit. Other matters As if golf didnt already have enough hazards.

Words of Wisdom From Two Funny Men

Frankie Boyle The cleverest quote of the week comes from the Scottish comedian Frankie Boyle in the Guardian. But first, his preamble touched a chord for The Magpie, who can vouch for it when Mr Boyle writes: The plight of the satirist, such as it is, is a compulsion to look at the grimmest, most important thing they can think of, and then for reasons that probably wouldnt survive a really good therapist, try to make it funny. To try to address the iniquities of their society, the satirist must manufacture some hope that what theyre doing might make a difference, then type it all up and send it off somewhere before they remember that it never does. Looking back over the events of this year is a bit like holding a doll for a therapist and pointing to where the bad man hurt you. Mr Boyles point is a universal one, which can be shared by Townsvilleans looking back over the past shambolic year. But his prize quote is so subtle, that you may have to think about for a while The Pie roared after a few seconds. The murder ofJamal Khashoggiby Saudi Arabia is another very difficult subject to find the lighter side of, unless someone in the Ecuadorean embassy has clipped the story out and stuck it to the fridge. (Sigh) Dear Mystified of Mysterton, it means that the Ecuadoreans might be giving their Wikileaks guest Julian Assange a hint.

Dave Barry The other funnyman worth a quote is the inimitable Dave Barry , the American columnist who talks about Florida the way The Magpie talks about Townsville only he is far funnier, proof being that The Magpie pinches more of his lines (many) than he does of The Magpies (none). This was his challenge to a graduating class, but it can just as well apply to the year 2019. How are you, Class, going to respond when the Clock-Radio of Challenge emits the Irritating Buzz of Opportunity? Are you going to roll over and hit the Snooze Button of Complacency? Or are you going to wake up and, after performing the Bodily Functions of Preparedness, boldly grasp the Toothbrush of Tomorrow? And no matter what you do in the coming year, make sure youre always politically correct, so no snowflakes will melt before your harsh words.

And So To This Week In Trumpistan First, compare Trump as Commander In Chief of real US soldiers, on his surprise visit to Iraq

Guess whos wondering if she packed the shampoo? with this.

And now to our final gallery of the year about the man Frankie Boyle described as this troll-doll King Lear, who looks like something youd pick off a baking tray after cooking pizza above it.

And Finally How The Hell ? The Pie has been occasionally upbraided for the use of naughty words in this blog well, one word in particular. He is aware that it can be confronting, but it is the other F word Frustration that compels him to sometimes resort to other for emphasis. Anyway, so what, if its good enough for Sesame Street, its good enough for The Pie. .. So that was the year that was, and what a rip-snorter we have coming up. Turns out this edition wasnt so mini after all. Comments run throughout the holiday break 24/7, so you dont have to wait to have your say. And the New Year will look even rosier for the old bird if you think the Nest is worth a small donation to keep it neat and tidy. The how to donate button is below. HAPPY NEW YEAR, YALL. http://www.townsvillemagpie.com.au/to-end-the-year-a-mini-magpie-with-a-mini-mystery/

[sweetlifetownsville]

To End The Year, A Mini-Magpie With A Mini Mystery.

Has mega-fraudster Craig Gore skipped Australia? And if so, why hasnt this been reported in the media especially since he is supposed to have made a midnight flit the very day after a judge refused to allow him to leave? In other matters, one has to admit that the Townsville Bulletin is consistent it has ended the year as it started, continuing its weekly Olympic-standard shambles. And Mongrel the Barrister has left us lawyer Mark Donnelly, the man who inspired a much loved Magpie character has passed away. and our final visit to Trumpistan for 2018. But first Its hard to keep a good man down, and our fav toonist Bentley is nothing if not a good man. Even in the holiday season, he casts his jaundiced eye over the news, and brings us a different and rib-tickling perspective. This week, he was much taken as most of us were with the drone drama at Gatwick Airport in the UK. A professional drone was reported in the airports approach and departure air space, and thousands of travellers were stuck when the whole shebang was shut down for a couple of days while the wallopers tried to go hi-tech and trace the source of the bastardry. Its not fully sorted yet, but Bentley thinks the drone may have already met its fate.

Why Arent All The Gore-y Details Available?

Will ye no come back agin, laddie? Now to our mini-mystery. On December 19, this report appeared in the Courier Mail. Judge denies disgraced former rich-lister Craig Gore request to travel overseas Vanessa Marsh, The Courier-Mail December 20, 2018 2:21pm A DISGRACED former rich-lister accused of ripping off almost $800,000 from investors has broken down in court after a judge refused his request to leave the country to visit family. Lawyers for alleged fraudster Craig Gore today launched an application in the Queensland District Court, seeking for the former businessmans bail conditions to be altered to allow him to travel to Sweden to visit his wife and children. But Judge Paul Smith denied the request, saying Gore faced a long time in prison if convicted and there was a real risk he would not return to Australia to face trial. Gore is facing 12 charges of fraud over allegations he swindled about $800,000 from self-managed super fund investors in 2013-14. He also faces three charges of managing companies while disqualified. Now that seems pretty definitive and eminently sensible. But The Magpie was informed two days later, by a regular contact and mate who has always been on the money in the past, that Gore went back to court the next day on another application, and had his passport returned so he could be with his family in Sweden at Christmas. He was to return in three months to face trial and possibility of a lengthy striped suntan. The Pies contact says Gore was on a flight out of Brisbane that night at 11pm, accompanied by a lawyer (that was apparently part of the arrangement) who will return with certain paperwork. Gore will be expected to make his own way back to face his fate in March. Yeah, right. Now all that is as it may be, BUT THIS SPECTACULAR REVERSAL OF A JUDGES IMPLACABLE DECISION HAS BEEN NEITHER EXPLAINED OR APPEARED IN THE MEDIA. Well, not that The Magpie can find, after days of searching to verify. If it is true, there will be a hell of a lot of very pissed off people Gores victims and the tireless investigators who nailed him who know just how long are the odds that we will ever see this shyster again. Shades of Skase!! Perhaps we will never know how this came about if it did come about because there will be a lofty judicial silence of unaccountability if he is a no show but surely the second hearing was an open court? Hard to fathom why it wasnt reported. Mongrel The Barrister Is No More The Magpies good mate Mark Sludge Donnelly the man who partially inspired the popular Magpie character Mongrel the Barrister, died in his family home in Cairns last weekend. It is fair to say that Mark was my best mate in the halcyon days of Portraits Bar in the Exchange Hotel all through the Noughties, the years when I was reporting court matters for the Bulletin. We were part of a memorable and disparate group, the bar crowded with our marvellously mixed group every Thursday, Friday and sometimes Saturday nights. (The fondly remembered Portraits became Poseurs Bar in the newspaper column and then in this blog.) Mark was universally known as Sludge, which he happily answered to, but never fully explained, even to me, its origins apparently it had something to do with a memorable comment from a lecturer or senior teacher suggesting Marks behaviour at that time some comparable to something from the bottom of a pond. Sludge was one of the wittiest people Ive known, and his memory was nothing short of astounding, not just for quoting legal precedents but in all things, particularly pop music. He always commandeered the music machine at parties, and was a pretty good DJ. He also had an eye for a well turned ankle, and his way of getting ladies to talk about themselves endeared him to more than one. Like many a member of the Portraits push, Mark liked a drink, and some believed he was a bit too enthusiastic in this direction. But I would say that rather than having a battle with the bottle, he just had frequent skirmishes with it, as we all did and any excess rarely affected his work at the other more sedate bar, where he often shone. Mark left Townsville when his father died, to live with his mother in the family home in Cairns. He didnt practice in Cairns, and went into virtual retirement, which was plagued by ill health for some time. He returned to Townsville annually for his birthday, but I lost touch in the past few years, for which I feel a bit miserable now. Sludge is now undoubtedly arguing the finer points about the Laws of Entry with St Peter for that is certainly where this witty, soft-hearted old friend of mine now is because we all know God loves a larrikin. Mark was 62. They Really Dont Understand Language at The Astonisher, Do They? And they even get the wrong WORD for a headlines. Even when theyre trying to make a pun, which kinda depends on the right word, yes? But we got a headline quoting some bizoid saying Townsville is bracing for a great 2018. Bracing for? Ahem. Youve managed to say EXACTLY THE OPPOSITE of what you meant. Heres the dictionary definition of bracing. verb[withobject] prepare (someone or oneself) forsomethingdifficult or unpleasant:both stations arebracingthemselvesforjoblosses|policeare braced fora trafficnightmare. So although this paper goes through life like a bouncing Hari Krishna whos visited the medicine cabinet once too often, giving us totally unquestioning, unexamined glop about our economy (usually from someone with a vested interest), it seem to have inadvertently hit on the truth here. However, the most tedious aspect of the paper of late is the dreary attempts at humour in headlines, particularly about crime, a subject no one in Townsville with the exception of you folks in Flinders Street, finds the least bit funny. AND EVEN THEN, LANGUAGE FAILS YOU let alone a sharp sense of humour.Take this major front page fail on Thursday.

Swindler? My dear headline writer, stay with me on this and read slowly, feel free to move your lips as you must. Now lets see, a swindler is someone who fiddles some unsuspecting victim out of something. That person would be called a fiddler, and if hidden in a ceiling, could be described as ta da a Fiddler In The Roof. You see, this would then coincide with the hit musical of the same name oh, how we would have all fallen about, clutching our sides in mirth, and holding your superior wit in such esteem!!! But swindler? Now weve just got a headache from smacking our foreheads yet again. And this one in simply NOT TRUE. This online

The actual number of people who said (or may have said, who knows, its probably a fiddled fantasy anyway) was 55% of the 700 or so people who responded to a totally uncontrolled survey. If there area 220,000 potential readers (ha! you wish) in the circulation area, the percentage is not even .5 of one percent. But we all know that the on-line edition is sloppy, so the paper itself will temper the outlandish claims, wont it? Errr no.

This is simply lying, and treating people like morons. And still they wonder But barely have we swallowed our anger before we start scratching our heads over weird genuinely weird stories like this, which would suggest that English isnt TEL boss Patricia OCallaghans first language, or she was suffering mild sunstroke when she was penned the media release from which the story was transcribed.

This story is selective twaddle certainly straight off an unedited media release from the Dudley Do Nothings, meaningless twaddle in which Ms OCallaghan specialises. It has often been said of her that she has the gift of the gab, and aint that the truth, just about all of what she has to say, in The Pies experience, is just that meaningless gabble that sounds good until it is more thoughtfully examined. Like this: The Museum of Underwater Art, located within the heart of The Great Barrier Reef, is a proposal based on the works of international sculpture and underwater artist Jason deCaires Taylor. Whats that bit located in the heart of the Great Barrier Reef? Has there been a Krakatoa-like geographic shift we havent noticed? The Underwater Museum, one of several planned along the coast, will be, at last report, just of Maggy Island, the GBR is a at least an hour or more away by fast cat . But in it goes to the story, with a newbie cub reporter just churning out this PR bumf. But wait, theres more. We then get this prize piece of meaningless gabble from the top executive charged with attracting and promoting tourism to Townsville: Its a project that is going to enhance the Great Barrier Reef experience and also educate visitors on how we manage and live with the reef everyday Ms OCallaghan said. That is absolute poppycock that is totally meaningless. And We? Bloody WE? FFS, girl, get a bloody grip. Insulting, uppity tripe from Ms OCallaghan and lazy, presumably unsupervised reporting (read: select all, copy and paste) by a very uncurious junior reporter (read: stenographer). Really, a monkey using scrabble board wouldve made more sense. The clusterfuck continues no wonder were so deep in the shit. Other matters As if golf didnt already have enough hazards.

Words of Wisdom From Two Funny Men

Frankie Boyle The cleverest quote of the week comes from the Scottish comedian Frankie Boyle in the Guardian. But first, his preamble touched a chord for The Magpie, who can vouch for it when Mr Boyle writes: The plight of the satirist, such as it is, is a compulsion to look at the grimmest, most important thing they can think of, and then for reasons that probably wouldnt survive a really good therapist, try to make it funny. To try to address the iniquities of their society, the satirist must manufacture some hope that what theyre doing might make a difference, then type it all up and send it off somewhere before they remember that it never does. Looking back over the events of this year is a bit like holding a doll for a therapist and pointing to where the bad man hurt you. Mr Boyles point is a universal one, which can be shared by Townsvilleans looking back over the past shambolic year. But his prize quote is so subtle, that you may have to think about for a while The Pie roared after a few seconds. The murder ofJamal Khashoggiby Saudi Arabia is another very difficult subject to find the lighter side of, unless someone in the Ecuadorean embassy has clipped the story out and stuck it to the fridge. (Sigh) Dear Mystified of Mysterton, it means that the Ecuadoreans might be giving their Wikileaks guest Julian Assange a hint.

Dave Barry The other funnyman worth a quote is the inimitable Dave Barry , the American columnist who talks about Florida the way The Magpie talks about Townsville only he is far funnier, proof being that The Magpie pinches more of his lines (many) than he does of The Magpies (none). This was his challenge to a graduating class, but it can just as well apply to the year 2019. How are you, Class, going to respond when the Clock-Radio of Challenge emits the Irritating Buzz of Opportunity? Are you going to roll over and hit the Snooze Button of Complacency? Or are you going to wake up and, after performing the Bodily Functions of Preparedness, boldly grasp the Toothbrush of Tomorrow? And no matter what you do in the coming year, make sure youre always politically correct, so no snowflakes will melt before your harsh words.

And So To This Week In Trumpistan First, compare Trump as Commander In Chief of real US soldiers, on his surprise visit to Iraq

Guess whos wondering if she packed the shampoo? with this.

And now to our final gallery of the year about the man Frankie Boyle described as this troll-doll King Lear, who looks like something youd pick off a baking tray after cooking pizza above it.

And Finally How The Hell ? The Pie has been occasionally upbraided for the use of naughty words in this blog well, one word in particular. He is aware that it can be confronting, but it is the other F word Frustration that compels him to sometimes resort to other for emphasis. Anyway, so what, if its good enough for Sesame Street, its good enough for The Pie. .. So that was the year that was, and what a rip-snorter we have coming up. Turns out this edition wasnt so mini after all. Comments run throughout the holiday break 24/7, so you dont have to wait to have your say. And the New Year will look even rosier for the old bird if you think the Nest is worth a small donation to keep it neat and tidy. The how to donate button is below. HAPPY NEW YEAR, YALL. http://www.townsvillemagpie.com.au/to-end-the-year-a-mini-magpie-with-a-mini-mystery/