#Ashleigh Gray

[paradise-bi-the-dashboard-lightt]

Musical Theatre meme 2023

↳ [6/9] Characters → Derek "Del Boy" Trotter

[fixicabo]

MEEEEE!!!! :333

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

I'd love to know how the cover date with A-Town actress Ash Lewis and Tom went down. What did they talk about? Were they friends by the end, do they stay in contact? Did they and their partners meet up before or after? What does Ash think about her role and meeting the inspiration for it?

[For those of you just tuning in: A-Town is the shitty postwar sitcom inspired by the life of Jake Berenson, to the eternal annoyance of Jake Berenson. Ash Lewis plays the main character's older sister Daisy, a dumb blond lacrosse player controlled by a yeerk named Zeptron 420.]

This whole thing felt like going to senior prom.

Not that I’d ever actually been to senior prom.  There'd been a show of sending me, Essa 412 giving Mom and Dad the runaround even to the point of getting the yeerk inside Vi Alden to show up in a dress.  30 seconds out the door, the formalwear had been swapped out for jeans and dracon rifles; our bodies had spent the night clearing wildlife out of a build site in the hopes of giving the “andalite bandits” nowhere to hide before the new community center opened up.

But I’d seen enough movies to know that this was how prom was supposed to work: A limo out front, a flower in my hand, a terrifyingly beautiful woman standing at the end of my parents' driveway.

Ashleigh Lewandowska wore a shimmering strapless gown in a color somewhere between gold and silver and lilac and rose, depending on how it caught the light. The silky fabric could only have been custom-sewn for her body, from the perfect way it hugged her curves and cut high enough in front to show one knee before trailing down in the back to an inch above the ground.  Jessica Rabbit come to life, and then melded with Jessica Alba.

"Hi," I said, smiling awkwardly. “You look amazing." I handed her my sprig of lilies, feeling like I was putting a Pokemon sticker on a bottle of champagne.

“You clean up pretty nicely yourself,” she said.

I glanced down at my own attire.  We’d gone for a deep purple button-down and a charcoal gray suit, but skipped the tie and cuff links.  Allegedly this was the fashion right now.  “Thanks,” I said.  “I should hope so, since my cousin spent the last week using me as her personal Ken doll.”

She laughed.  “Welcome to Hollywood.”  She stuck out a hand, silvery bracelets jangling.  “Call me Ash.”

I shook gently.  “Tom.  Nice to finally meet in person.”

There was a blinding flash; I flinched in surprise, but Ash turned automatically toward the light.

“Wow,” I said loudly.  “After all your whining about paparazzi, you go and join them.”

Jake stepped up next to me, stuffing the disposable camera into his hoodie pocket.  “It’s not paparazzi-ing if I don’t publish the photos,” he said.  He stuck out his own hand.  “I’m Jake.  Big fan.”

Ash laughed, taking his hand.  “Ash.  And I’m a big fan of yours.  Besides...” She looked over at me.  “Aren’t photos the whole point of the evening?”

“Yeah.”  I smoothed down my jacket, even though I had Rachel’s assurances it hung perfectly.  “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Shall we, then?”  Ash gestured to the limo.

“Uh.”  I lunged to open the door for her, although I could tell from her laugh that that wasn’t what she’d meant.

Ash slid into the limo, scooting down the seat so I could perch next to her.

“Have him home before nine,” Jake called after us, “and don’t drink the jungle juice!”

I flipped him off before pulling the door closed behind me.

In cool interior of the limo’s passenger compartment, Ash’s presence was even more overwhelming.  She was stunningly beautiful with her delicate updo of blond curls, her full figure accentuated by the dress’s curves, her flawlessly smooth skin.  But there was an untouchability, a faint unnaturalness, about her beauty.  It was less like being on a hot date, more like being in the presence of an alien goddess.

Maybe it was just that I knew for a fact she had no interest in men.  Lack of attraction was always going to be a turn-off.

“So.”  She shifted to sit across from me, leaning forward to brace both hands on her knees.  “Some ground rules.”

“Yeah.  I’m listening.”

She shook her head.  “I mean we both set ground rules.  This is improv, but improv never means anything-goes.”

“Improv?”

“An improvisational performance.  We have the outlines of what we’re doing, and we’re making it up as we go.”

“Ah.”  The car lurched as the driver pulled away, causing me to slide sideways on the seat when I didn’t catch myself in time.  Ash put out a hand as if to steady me, but pulled back when she saw I was good.

“Sorry.”  She shrugged.  “No seatbelts in limos.”

“All right, I’ll start there.”  I shifted in my seat.  “My reaction time is complete crap.  I assume you’ve done a fair bit of reading about zombies for the role?”

She twitched a little at zombies.  “I’m not claiming to be an expert.”

“Sure.  What you should know is that that much of the stereotype is true, at least for me.  I’m slow to respond to pretty much anything sudden, and one way that shows up is I’m terrible with facial expressions.”  I gave her an apologetic smile.  “I’m going to do my best to sell this, but you’re going to be carrying most of the weight.”

“Ah, so you’re a bad actor.”  Ash nodded with mock solemnity.  “That, I can work with.”

“Cool.  Just think of me as your extremely well-dressed cardboard cutout,” I said.

She laughed again.  “Okay.  And I’ll keep in mind that I shouldn’t necessarily check on your face to see if you’re interested in something.”

“Yeah.”  I made an open-palm gesture to her.  “‘preciate it.”

“For me...”  She held up a perfectly manicured finger.  “No touching of boobs, hips, or butts—”

“God no!” I blurted.  “Uh, no offense, but...”

“Goes both ways, good, got it.”  She held up a second finger.  “Closed-mouth kissing on the cheek or maybe the neck is okay with me, if and only if it’s okay with you.”

I thought about it.  “Let me ask Bonnie?”

“Totally.  And for the record, I already ran all this by Sierra.”

“Cool.”

I tapped out a text as Ash rummaged in the giant handbag that sat next to her minuscule purse on the seat, finding her own phone.

“Bonnie’s fine with that,” I said when I got a reply.  “But I’ve been told not to fall in love with you, and also called a ‘narcissist’ three times in four texts.”

Ash gave a tinkling little laugh, one hand coming up to cover her mouth.  “I’ll have to meet this Bonnie.”

I glanced up at her.  “Totally incognito double date, next weekend at Shake Shack?”

“Let me text Sierra,” she said.

Sierra was in, it transpired.  And we hammered out most of the rest of the rules: arms around the shoulder or waist were okay, sitting in laps a no-no.  Splitting a dessert was fine, putting two straws in one drink a little too far.  Holding hands was encouraged.  We’d tell anyone who asked that we were friends, and if pressed to elaborate would say we were friends getting dinner together.  We’d tell the truth about our names, and the fact that we’d met through Ash’s research for A-Town.

I was allowed to make jokes about dating my double, but strongly discouraged from expressing an opinion about A-Town or about Ash’s character Daisy.  If all else failed, I should claim I had never seen the show but I’d heard a lot about it and was planning to check it out in the future.  If anyone planted the suggestion that we were at dinner because I was helping Ash with her research, I was to encourage the idea without confirming it.

Also, whenever possible, I’d be letting Ash do all the talking.

“You ready?” Ash asked.

I glanced out the window, surprised to discover the limo had pulled up at the curb.  She was easy to talk to, for a superhero princess in an outfit that cost more than my car.

“Will there be photographers right away?” I asked.

She nodded.  “Probably.  This place publishes its guest lists, which is part of why I made the reservation here, but it also keeps in business through requiring a level of respect from the hangers-on.”

“Cool.”  I smoothed my hands over my pants.  I was so glad we’d cut off my hair down to its usual buzz; trying to mess around with the loose poof of curls I wore it in at college would’ve given me too many opportunities to fidget. Same reason I'd left the glasses at home.

“Hey.”  Ash put her hand gently on mine.  “Thanks for doing this.”

I smiled up at her.  “What, pretending that I’m in any way desirable enough to attract a Hollywood A-lister?  Yeah, the impact on my reputation is gonna be a real hardship.”

“‘A-lister’ is definitely overstating it.  And you know what I mean.”

I did, of course.  Ash was aspiring for fame, anyway, and she’d attracted a good few offers for small film parts through her work playing fake-me on A-Town.  But if she had any hope of a film career, no one could know about her quiet long-term relationship with another woman.  There couldn’t even be rumors.  Not in that direction, anyway.

There were rumors already, as it stood.  Which is why Marco had texted us both to set up this little pantomime.

We were here to make a new batch of gossip.  Through manufacturing a story too odd, too delicious, too ridiculous for the press to pass up: the actor who played a fake version of Jake Berenson’s sibling on TV, entering into a fling with Jake Berenson’s real-life actual sibling.  In reality Ash’s character was only loosely inspired by yours truly, there having been no actual research involved in the construction of Daisy A or Zeptron 420.  But the fact that Ash played me on television was going to be too delightfully ironic for most tabloids to pass up.

“Good to go?” Ash asked.

I nodded.  “Just like we practiced.”

“Something like that.”

She leaned to the far side of the car and swung the door open.  I expected her to get out right away, but she made a whole production of swinging one leg out the door and planting her foot on the ground.  She left it there for a few seconds before she curled a hand around the door frame and slowly pulled herself out of the car, posture careful and head high.

“It’s Ash Lewis!” Someone called from outside.  And then there was an explosion of overlapping sound.

Ash turned, making eye contact where I still sat.  She winked.

Swallowing, I scooted over.  She put out her hand, and I took it.

My own exit from the car wasn’t nearly as graceful, but Ash made sure we were gazing at each other the entire time.  The lightning-strikes of flashes were already going off around us, people with everything from cell phones to full news cameras crowding forward at a barely-respectful distance.  Now I understood why she’d taken her time — it gave the bush-lurkers time to realize just who was climbing out of the latest stretch limo amidst an entire fleet of them.

“Ash, any comment on the rumors of a film contract?” someone shouted.

“Hey Ash, who’s—”

“Ash, smile for us!”

“Ash, who are you wearing?”

“Over here, Ash—”

“—your new beau?”

“I love you, Daisy!”

I suppressed a wince at that one.  Hopefully she didn’t mind no one being able to tell the difference between her and her character.  Hopefully it wasn’t like when people —

“Visser Seventeen?” a voice broke through.

Now I did wince.  I’d stopped dead on the edge of the sidewalk, expression frozen.  I didn’t know if I could...

“Tom Berenson,” Ash said loudly, and the crowd fell silent for the sound bite.  “We’re going for dinner, it’s a Balenciaga, can’t say about the film, and I love you all too!”

With that, she slid an arm around my waist and started steering me toward the door.

I smiled.  I waved.  I tried not to look like too much of a fool.

Several people yelled questions to me. A few yelled questions about me to Ash. A few, apparently, addressed their questions to the dearly departed spirit of Essa 412. Ash fielded the entire gauntlet, half-shielding me with her body as needed.

“Thanks,” I muttered, as we approached the host stand.

Ash nodded.  “Think it’ll rain?”

That was another one we’d done in the car — either of us could drop the phrase blue skies at any time to mean get me the hell out of here.

“It just might, yeah,” I said.  Giving the all-clear.

“Ash Lewis and Tom Berenson.”  This time Ash spoke much louder, probably so the mics could pick it up.

The host ran his finger down the list, nodding.  “Here we are.  Right this way, ma’am.  Sir.”

We followed him out of the hard-bright spotlight outside, stepping into a velvet-muffled interior like sliding underwater.

“Oh,” I whispered.  There were dozens of little round tables, each tucked away into semi-enclosed nooks around the edge of the room.  “This isn’t bad at all.”

Ash tapped the side of her nose.  “Don’t worry, plenty of eyes and ears in here too.”

Ah.  So a fair percent of the other diners would be reporters or hangers-on.  Made sense.

But it was still far less overstimulating than the cacophony outside.  Our table was draped in a white linen cloth, the enclosing walls in burgundy velvet.  No one was going to hear us unless we raised our voices, and the only photographs possible would be low-lit and far away. 

“So,” I said to Ash, after pulling out her chair and helping her sit.  “Come here often?”

She laughed, head tossed so that her curls cascaded attractively.  Exaggerated, but warm.  “This is my first time with a date, anyway.”

“I’m honored.”

I was running a mental check: elbows off table, legs uncrossed, posture straight.  Eyes on my date, even when I heard a click of a muffled shutter somewhere off to my right.  

“Ms. Lewis.”  A different guy in a tuxedo had materialized where the host had been a second ago.  “What a pleasure to have you back.”

“Good to be back,” Ash said, smiling up at him.

“Will you be starting with some wine tonight?” he asked.

“The usual.  And we’ll take a few of those menus as well.”  Apparently, she had to request menus.

“Naturally.”  He held them out on top of a freaking tray.  Ash took one without comment.

“Uh, thanks,” I said, lifting the leather portfolio.  Feeling like a kid getting sticky fingerprints on my mom’s paperwork.  Wondering why I hadn’t done the math before now that generating trashy gossip would be so highfalutin.

The waiter bowed — I’m not kidding, he actually bowed — and glided away.

“We’re getting wine?” I asked in an undertone.

Ash lifted her head.  “You are over twenty-one, right?”

I nodded.  “Are you?”

She smirked, tapping a finger against her lips.  Got it, never ask a Hollywood dame her age — lies were a survival tactic.  And she did play the sixteen-year-old version of me on TV.  Wouldn’t do to imply she might be a day over nineteen.

Opening the menu, I skimmed down the column of French- and Italian-labeled food things.  And then I stopped, my eyes skipping to the right, and read that column instead.

“Are these...” I leaned in closer, squinting at the tiny font.  No sign of any decimal points, but I could see a few commas.  “Are these prices in dollars?” I hissed.

Ash brought her hand up to her mouth, not quickly enough to hide her smile.

I flushed.

“It’s already paid for, Tom.”  She reached across the table to put two fingers on my wrist.

“No, I...”

We’d agreed she’d be picking up the tab, but still.  What the fuck could they have possibly done to that pigeon to make it worth twelve hundred fucking dollars?  It was a pigeon.  They were free for anyone with sharp eyes and fast talons, all over the friggin city.

“I didn’t realize the schmoozing and boozing part of this could be so pricey,” I said at last.

“You said no major food allergies?”  She raised her eyebrows.

“Just pineapple.”

She folded her menu so that she could look across the table, making eye contact.  “Do you trust me?”

I considered, rather than giving her a knee-jerk answer.  Trust her with my life?  Not exactly.  Trust her with this?

“Sure.”  I smiled.  “Go wild.”

She did, in fluent French, when the waiter returned.  My life was really in her hands now.

“All right,” she said, turning back to me.  “It’s going to be a while, so go ahead and give me something.”

“Something...?”

“You’re coaching me on my acting, remember?”  She grinned.  “So, lay it all out.”

I laughed, glancing away across the restaurant.  “Oh, you don’t want that.  I’m not an actor.  Or anything close.”

“No high school plays?”  She was smirking now.  “Middle school pageants?  Elementary school musicals?”

“Not a one.”

“Look, just...”  She tossed her hair again.  It was sort of terrifying to watch.  “Tell me one thing the show gets wrong.”

I raised my eyebrows.  “What, just one?”

She laughed.  “Artistic license aside.  What about the performances would you change if you could?”

“Seriously, all that comes to mind is hiring a better lion-actor,” I said.  “Which I assume is off the table.”

“Oh god, that friggin lion.”  She groaned, just exaggerated enough you could still believe in it.

“Wait.”  I leaned across the table, looking hard at her.  “They put you guys on set with a live lion?”

Ash shook her head so hard her earrings rattled.  “No, no!”

“Good, because I was about to have to call, I don’t know, OSHA or—”

“You’re sweet, but there's no need.”

“I mean, after Siegfried and Roy, that would’ve just been..."  I gave an exaggerated wince.

“Yes, exactly.”

I leaned back in my seat, heart rate slowing.  Seriously.  As a guy who’d been mauled by a tiger before — and that’d been a tiger who was motivated to keep me alive — I really would’ve gone to the SPCA with a complaint if some off-prime show had been letting its actors in the same room as giant cats for attention.

“The lion's on the same set as the humans, but never at the same time.”  Ash sipped her drink, using the motion to glance around and then lean in closer to me.  “The trainers bring him in, toss a few of his toys on the floor, and let him do whatever he feels like until he inevitably gets bored and drops down for a nap.  Then they send him away, and the producers write the scene around the footage they managed to get.”

There was another click from somewhere to our left, but thankfully no flash.  For good measure I reached across the table, and let Ash put her hand overtop mine.

"Anyway, tell me something else," she said.  "What do you think of Daisy?  Or Zeptron, for that matter?"

I turned my head half-away from the room, speaking in an undertone.  "I thought I wasn't supposed to know too much about A-Town?"

Ash shook her head.  "Just don't answer any reporters' questions about it.  Otherwise we should be fine."

"Okay."  I blew out a breath.  "I mean, I love your work.  Zeptron is, I'm sure I don't have to tell you, the best part of the show.  I assume you've seen the fan sites and know that already."

"According to the fan sites," Ash said, "Trina's the best part of the show.  Followed by Gina, followed by Zeptron.  Not that anyone's counting."

"And Bonnie says I'm a narcissist," I said.

"Maybe she's right.  We all need friends to keep us humble."

Just a hair of emphasis, on the word friends.  Got it.  No talking about Bonnie where the microphones could hear, or at least no acknowledging who she was to me.  "Okay, you want feedback?" I said.  "On how to more realistically be fake-me onscreen?"

"I do," Ash said.  "That's why we're here."

I considered the question.  Obviously if I'd been casting myself I wouldn't have gone for a pouty-lipped blond chick, but that was beside the point.  "Okay, fine," I said.

"Uh-huh?"

"The..."  I raised a hand to my ear, poking at it with the end of my finger.  "What's with the going like this all the time?"

Ash laughed, definitely a real laugh this time.  I was imitating a gesture that she made three, five, sometimes ten times an episode.

"What," I said, laughing myself, "is Zeptron worried she's about to fall out?  Is that what it's supposed to be?  Like a..."  I mimed catching an object that was about to fall out of my own ear.

"Yes."  Ash giggled.  "Yes, I'm adding that to the show notes.  Zeptron is constantly on the verge of falling out, and that's why the..."  She did a much better job than me, of course, of getting across the subtly ominous way that we constantly saw Zeptron patting at Daisy's ear.

"Seriously, though.  Why?"

"Pizza effect, as we say in the biz."  She raised both hands, pressing them to her ears like worried they were about to fall off.  "If someone's pizza delivery arrives midway through the episode, you have to be able to answer the door, pay the driver, sit back on the couch, and pick up the episode without having missed anything important.  And that's not even taking into effect the people who stop channel-surfing and start watching midway through an episode."

"So..."

"So we have to get across the idea that 'Daisy'" — she made air quotes around the name, and I kind of loved her for it — "isn't just the world's meanest teenager for some reason.  We need the audience to catch onto the fact that Daisy isn't Daisy.  And we need to remind them of that fact as often as possible, in case they ordered a pizza before starting the episode."

"Huh.  So you..."  Again I did the ear-poking gesture.  "Okay, fine, that makes sense."  And I did approve of the goal of distinguishing Daisy from Zeptron.  Otherwise you ended up known as Visser Seventeen for the rest of your fucking life.

"Yeah.  Like I said.  We don't want the audience assuming Brandon's sister hates him for no reason."

"Fine, fine, I'll let you guys have the ear-poking thing."

"What else?" she asked.

I blew out a breath.  This was not my wheelhouse, at all, and to be honest I had never watched an entire episode of A-Town from start to finish.  Mostly I absorbed factoids about it from Jake's ranting.  "Uh, my cousin Jordan says that Trina should stop going back and forth between Liam and J.J., and just date them both.  But that doesn't apply to Zeptron."

Ash gave another real laugh.  "Oh, I wish," she said.  "But yeah, that'd be a note for the writing room.  I'm just a humble actor."

The food arrived then, on six different plates.  Which was fortunate, because each one had just a tiny spray of food amidst vast empty space barely broken by sauce.  I hoped we were allowed to eat the garnish as well.  Ash served us, thankfully, using tiny metal tongs to set portions of everything onto two dessert-sized plates.

"Sorry," I said, after I'd swallowed my first bite of... I don't know, maybe a grape leaf and some kind of soft meat?  It was pretty good, to be honest, but not $700 good.  "I'm not much use."

Ash smiled softly, patting her lips with her napkin.  How she was managing to get food into her mouth without smearing her lipstick was one of life's great mysteries.  "That's not true," she said.

Again, she got her meaning across with just a hint of extra emphasis on certain sounds, a tiny tilt of one eyebrow: I was being useful by being here, no actual insider information necessary.  Couldn't have told you how she'd conveyed it, only that she did.  Actors, man.

"Thanks."  I took a drink, and tried not to feel like a galumphing idiot because there was no graceful way for a normie like me to eat on camera.  "Is there anything else specific you want to know about— about Daisy?"  I'd almost said about me, but well.  Eyes and ears everywhere.

"Let's be honest," Ash said.  "I don't play Daisy, at least not 99% of the time.  I play Zeptron 420 pretending to be Daisy."

And if she kept saying shit like that, I really was going to fall in love with her.  "You know what?"  I pulled my napkin off my lap and dropped it on the table, pushing back my chair as if to indicate I was leaving.  "We're done, I can't add anything, you already understand the role better than anyone else on the planet, I cannot possibly hope to gild this lily."

"You're too kind."  Ash smiled, but she also nudged my napkin back toward me with a fingertip.

Got it.  Couldn't make any gestures that could be misinterpreted by the camera.  Whoops.  Dropping the napkin back in my lap, I scooted my chair closer to her and leaned in close to look her in the eye.  "Seriously, though," I said, in a low whisper.  "It gives me a lot of confidence in the show to hear you say that."

"Okay, here's a question."  Ash took another bite of... I don't know, some kind of tiny fresh fruit cubes and some kind of fish?  I hadn't dared try that one yet.  "If you were Daisy, living Daisy's life.  How would you feel about having Brandon as a little brother?"

What immediately came to mind is what it'd feel like to have D-cups as soft and round as hers, right there on my chest, and a push-up bra to put them in.  Almost certainly not what she'd actually been wondering about.

"Brandon," I said, trying to refocus.  "Okay, so.  I'm not Daisy, but.  From my point of view, he's... really annoying, to be honest."

Ash sighed.  "Everyone says that.  Poor Jared."

Jared Kincaid was the actor who played Brandon.  And yeah, if I was him then reading those fan sites would be rough.  I could only imagine.

Not that I had fan sites.  But there were very good reasons I never searched for myself online.  Or read my Wikipedia article.  Or dived too deep into Animorphs forums.  Now if I could only get Jake to follow my example...

"What I mean."  I held up a hand in a hear me out gesture.  "I can't comment on his acting or writing, but Brandon's... really lackadaisical about the war, you know?  And I get that the fictional empire-that-shall-not-be-named isn't nearly as much of a threat as the yeerks were.  But he keeps blowing off missions to play lacrosse games, or go on dates.  And he claims he's in charge of the team any time he's bossing JJ or Trina around, but he never seems to do anything with that power.  It's usually Gina and Liam, or Trina and Crystal, getting back from missions.  Brandon just hangs around his house all the time getting grounded by his parents and bickering with Zeptron."

"Bickering with Zeptron is advancing the war effort, if you think about it," Ash said, but she was smirking.

"In that case, he works harder than the rest of the fauximorphs combined.  I stand corrected."

"Foe-uh-morphs?"

"Oh, uh."  I winced.  Hopefully that wasn't actually insider information.  "What Jake calls the A-Town team.  Originally a Marcoism, I think."

Ash laughed, nodding to herself.  "Fauximorphs.  Works better than 'teen shapeshifter team we can't name onscreen for copyright reasons,' I'd say."

"Is that the only reason?" I asked.

She tilted her head in a question, earrings sliding against her cheek.  She had an ultra-intense way of listening, conveying with everything from the tilt of her eyebrows to her position of her hands that she was hanging on your every word.  Like I said, bright future ahead.

"You never say 'yeerk,' or 'Animorph,'" I said.  "Characters refer to 'those jerks' a bunch, which I assume is meant to imply something, and obviously you've got alien invaders played by eels, but... it's down to copyright?  You know Marco owns the copyright for 'Animorph,' right?  And he works for you."

"Mm."  Ash made a small gesture, raising the first two fingers of her right hand, a let me think, as she chewed another bite of food.  Finally she said, "It's down to taste, I suppose.  Because it is ultimately a fictional show."

"Ha!"

That'd come out too loud — I pressed a hand over my mouth — but it got another genuine laugh from Ash.  And oh, that untouchable goddess veneer was wearing off faster than I wanted it to.  She was acting all too approachable.

She's gay, I reminded myself firmly.  And taken.  And you have a hot girlfriend at home.

"I just..."  I looked down at my plate.  "That's what I keep saying.  It's not a show about the war, not really.  It's a show about a ridiculous version of the war that's not supposed to be realistic, and everyone knows that.  Jake keeps taking it too seriously, you know?"

"I would hope not," Ash said.  "And we aren't trying to depict real yeerks.  That'd be pretty disrespectful, don't you think?"

The whole show was disrespectful as fuck — Jake and I agreed on that much — but even without the cameras, I wouldn't have said that to Ash.  Disrespectful wasn't the worst thing in the world.  It beat valorizing the Animorphs for the purpose of holding them up in contrast to everything allegedly wrong with the current generation, which was the most common alternative I'd encountered.

"What about you?" I offered instead.  "What do you think Daisy thinks of Brandon?"

"Oh, man."  She blew out a breath.  "I think she's sad, mostly.  She probably misses hanging out with him, and it has to upset her how much Zeptron bullies him.  I also think she's proud of him being such a good lacrosse player, like maybe she used to look forward to them being on high school lacrosse teams together before—"

"Okay, okay!"  My hand was clenched around my fork; I forced my fingers open.  "Okay."

"It's nice filming in California, where the weather usually cooperates," she said.  Checking in again.

"It does rain here sometimes," I said.  And then, "You're very good.  You know that?  Whatever they're paying you, it isn't enough."

"Mmmm, can I quote you on that next time I'm talking to my agent?"  She smiled with her lips, but her gaze was searching mine.

"Oh, please do."  I did my best to smile reassuringly.  And then, because I sucked at nonverbal communication.  "I asked the question, dude.  You answered.  But go ahead, hit me with another one."

There was a click to our right, another camera shutter going off.  Knowing my luck, I'd managed to get food in my teeth or bunch up my pants at a weird angle.

"How do you feel about Zeptron and JJ's romance?"  Ash lobbed a lowball at me.

"She should've stuck with her banana slug boyfriend," I said.  "Would Daisy want to date JJ, in your opinion?"

Ash tilted her head, then shook it.  "He's too young for her.  And she's secretly all punk and alternative, if you've seen any of the episodes with her cameos.  JJ's kind of a poser, you know?"

"Plus, he cheats on all his girlfriends."

"Exactly."

"How's Marco feel about JJ, anyway?" I asked.  There were obvious differences, from the Italian actor and buzz cut to the inexplicable decision to have him use duck as his battle morph, but he was Brandon's best friend, the team's comic relief, the only one with an immigrant mom, and the one with the most girlfriends.  That, and his mom was either a homicidal sadist or else being controlled by a yeerk that bore a suspicious resemblance to Visser One.

"Have you ever," Ash said, "and I mean ever, gotten a straight answer out of Marco about anything?"

"Oh, hell no," I said immediately.  "I think Jake can — that's his superpower.  But me?  No way, Jose."

"Yes, he's very good at this kind of thing." She didn't mean acting, of course. Or at least, not the kind that one did on TV.

"Scarily good, some would say," I muttered.

"Oh?"

"Okay, you—" I lowered my voice. "You remember Tennantgate, right?"

Ash nodded, of course, even though she was frowning in confusion. William Roger Tennant, America's most beloved hippie, caught on camera trying to strangle a dog. The most-played news clip of the year, at least in California.

"What if I told you," I said quietly, "that Tennant was...?" I made that yeerk-falling-out-of-ear gesture again, to get her to laugh. "And that it just so happens Marco Alvarez's stepmom owns a white toy poodle?"

Ash choked on a sip of water, putting a hand to her chest in surprise. I exerted heroic effort not to follow the direction of that hand too closely. "But how?" she whispered, when she'd recovered. "How would you even engineer something like that? They'd have to know exactly where he'd be when, how he'd react, that it'd happen exactly as the cameras turned on..."

I held up both hands in an open-palm shrug. "You've got me. Like you said, he's very good."

"It's funny."  Ash glanced around to see if anyone was within earshot.  I leaned in close to her, and she leaned across the table to meet me.  With her lips an inch from my cheek — she didn't touch my ear, we'd covered that — she whispered, "I asked Marco on this date first.  He said no.  Said that actually, he's thinking of... you know.  Telling people."

I sat back, looking at her.  Hopefully that little moment had looked plenty intimate for the cameras.  She'd even managed a blush, how I had no idea.  The red wine, maybe.

And then it hit me.  Coming out.  Marco was thinking of coming out.  "I..."  I took a breath.  "I hope... Whatever happens, it works for him."

Because he wasn't untouchable, not really, but he was about as close as you could get.  Elton John famous.  Anderson Cooper, Ellen Degeneres, Rachel Maddow famous.  Famous enough that losing all sponsorships and acting gigs, getting dragged through the mud and spat on by former fans, wouldn't be enough to ruin his life or his legacy.  Famous enough to pave the way for other boys who dated boys, for people like Ash to maybe someday not have to lie.

It was the difference between Arnold Schwarzenegger taking a four-by-four to the face, and Carrie Fisher taking that same four-by-four.  The blow was coming no matter what, and it'd hurt like hell when it did.  The only question was if it'd leave you enough marbles to straighten up and keep swinging.

Ash smiled weakly, and this time it looked genuine.  "And you know what I hope."

Yeah.  Because if the four-by-four hit Marco, maybe it'd only be a two-by-four by the time it got to her.

"Ash, I..."

You know why I agreed to come on this date? I lied earlier, about not reading my Wikipedia entry. I did, just once, not that long after it was posted. The first two sentences were about Jake. The rest was about Essa 412.

For more information, Wikipedia suggested, I'd want to read the entry for Visser Seventeen.

Seemed kind of pathetic, when you thought about it. I'd agreed to this little farce to be slightly more famous, for something I'd done for once. Ash...

She was lying, right now, because she had to. Because there was no choice. Not if she wanted to live in peace, wanted Sierra to live in peace. She couldn't come here on a date, not a real one, not to any restaurant anywhere someone might have a camera. Her hand was resting on mine, and she couldn't do that with the person she actually wanted. Sure, a century ago Bonnie and I would've been illegal in California, if her parents had been allowed in at all, but a hell of a lot had changed since then. There was no comparison.

It made me feel small and shabby, to have it all laid out like that.

"I..."  There was nothing I could say.  Not in public, and not when this wasn't my fight. "I hope you go on more dates here," I said at last.

"And I..."  Now Ash's smile was definitely fake again, even to the point of being a little sarcastic.  "Hope you're with me when I do."

I winked at her.  That was unlikely, since we'd agreed we would be at most photographed walking around together one more time before slow-fading into tabloid mystery.  But for now... "Dessert?" I said.

"Dessert," she agreed.

[man-in-jumpsuit]

Hey, it's a casting announcement!

But first, a synopsis:

Coming in 2025, Heartglass is a modern urban fantasy that centers loss, grief, and corruption in a package that feels like a fairytale. The story is divided between two main throughlines. The three living relatives of the victims of a tragic accident on a viewing platform over the Heartglass desert are attending a memorial service when a violent storm hits the city of Robeson, a storm that shouldn't be possible. In its wake, it drags a whole host of impossible things - including people turning into trees, invisible monsters, and a mysterious cowboy shaman. They are forced to navigate a world that they rapidly realize they do not truly understand.

Meanwhile, the three departed relatives of our protagonists are stuck living in an ice cream shop in Hell. They remember almost nothing about their lives, but they do know they're all bound together by some means that prevents them from separating. When the concept of a communistic scare drives them from their makeshift home, they set off to journey to Hell's only visible landmark - a spire set seemingly forever on the horizon, above which a singular white light radiates the otherwise formless gray expanse. Heartglass is a bizarre and poetic look at the relationship between life, death, and the surreal spaces in between.

Without further ado, our cast!

Starring

Ashleigh Morgan as Maya Graves

Ashleigh has been in several productions both for VO and camera acting, including Simone on the Grand Crew (NBC), Paramedic/Ashleigh on The Rehearsal (HBO), and as Mina Nihrum in Star Wars: The Old Republic.

Shannon Hobby as Piper Stewart

Shannon has been in a number of VO productions for both web series and video games, such as Hannah Daigle's Satina as the titular character, MechWarrior 5: Mercenaries as "Samantha Cole" and as "A5 Strata" in Popup Dungeon.

Adam Pilver as Mark LeBeau

Mark is an accomplished screen actor making his break into VO work in this role. His previous roles include parts on I Love That For You as "Dr. Gilberg" (Showtime), "Keith" on Shrinking (Apple TV+), and "ICE Agent Jones" on S.W.A.T (CBS)

Henry Korba-Babcock as James Gently

Henry is a voice actor, appearing on audiobooks previously, as well as appearances on The Innkeeper and SCP Un[REDACTED].

Rae Lundberg as Allan Coleman

Rae is an accomplished audio drama actor, with appearances on their show The Night Post as "Val Torres" and "The Stranger," as well as "Ran Fishercliff" on Eeler's Choice and "Jamilla Gardner" on Woe.Begone

Jamie-Lyn Markos as Mother Seraphina

Jamie-Lyn has appeared on both audio dramas and screen as a talented VO artist, as well as being an accomplished stage actor. Her latest appearances include as "Sister Genevieve" on The Love Talker and as "Sally" in Close Your Eyes.

Also Starring

Aud Andrews as Venan Kamen

Aud is a phenomenally accomplished voice actor, with a nomination for best performance at the 2023 Ambies for his performance as the titular character in The Madness of Chartrulean. Aud also appears in the forthcoming The Dope Show as "Ben."

Rae Witte as Melanie Pappaspiradakos

Rae is another phenomenal actress who has appeared in our very own What's in The Rift as "Alana Rietzkopf" and in Observable Radio and The Dex Legacy. She is also involved in forthcoming projects for Packhowl Media.

Heartglass will release its pilot episode in February in conjunction with our Kickstarter.

Can't wait to see you then!

[operachristine]

Holiday Gifting Day 5

Day 5 of 5 features a few Wicked audios with Nessarose understudies!

Idina Menzel (Elphaba), Helen Dallimore (Glinda), Adam Garcia (Fiyero), Nigel Planer (The Wizard), Miriam Margolyes (Madame Morrible), Caroline Keiff (u/s Nessarose), James Gillan (Boq), Martin Ball (Doctor Dillamond) October 28, 2006; London Matinee

Link

Ashleigh Gray (s/b Elphaba), Dianne Pilkington (Glinda), Pharic Scott (u/s Fiyero), Sam Kelly (The Wizard), Harriet Thorpe (Madame Morrible), Emily Tierney (u/s Nessarose), Alex Jessop (Boq), David Stoller (Doctor Dillamond) February 6, 2010; London

Link

Idina Menzel (Elphaba), Kristin Chenoweth (Glinda), Kristoffer Cusick (u/s Fiyero), Joel Grey (The Wizard), Carole Shelley (Madame Morrible), Eden Espinosa (u/s Nessarose), Christopher Fitzgerald (Boq), William Youmans (Doctor Dillamond) December 21, 2003; Broadway || Notes: This is the only known recording of Eden as Nessarose! Missing No Good Deed and March of the Witch Hunters.

Link

Shoshana Bean (Elphaba), Megan Hilty (Glinda), David Ayers (Fiyero), Ben Vereen (The Wizard), Adinah Alexander (u/s Madame Morrible), Stacie Morgain Lewis (u/s Nessarose), Jeffrey Kuhn (Boq), Sean McCourt (Doctor Dillamond) September 24, 2005; Broadway

Link

Dee Roscioli (Elphaba), Erin Mackey (Glinda), Derrick Williams (Fiyero), Gene Weygandt (The Wizard), Rondi Reed (Madame Morrible), Kate Fahrner (u/s Nessarose), Adam Fleming (Boq), K. Todd Freeman (Doctor Dillamond) March 21, 2007; Chicago

Link

Jenna Leigh Green (u/s Elphaba), Kendra Kassebaum (Glinda), Derrick Williams (Fiyero), David Garrison (The Wizard), Carol Kane (Madame Morrible), Lori Holmes (u/s Nessarose), Logan Lipton (Boq), Timothy Britten Parker (Doctor Dillamond) April 9, 2005; First National Tour

Link

Willemijn Verkaik (Elphaba), Valerie Link (u/s Glinda), Jens Simon Petersen (u/s Fiyero), Carlo Lauber (The Wizard), Angelika Wedekind (Madame Morrible), Maike Switzer (u/s Nessarose), Stefan Stara (Boq), Michael Günther (Doctor Dillamond) December 22, 2007; Stuttgart Matinee || Notes: Valerie's first show as Glinda.

Link

Eden Espinosa (Elphaba), Kendra Kassebaum (Glinda), Nicolas Dromard (Fiyero), Tom McGowan (The Wizard), Jody Gelb (Madame Morrible), Neka Zang (u/s Nessarose), Etai BenShlomo (Boq), Paul Slade Smith (Doctor Dillamond), Gregory Haney (Chistery), Samantha Zack (u/s Witch's Mother), Tim Talman (Witch's Father / Ozian Official) April 6, 2010; San Francisco || Notes: Neka's first show as Nessarose.

Link

[hyprunivers]

The Adventures of Ashleigh the Living Skeleton

Chapter 1: I Woke Up.

When I woke up, I was staring at the sky.

When I woke up, I was fully awake immediately. I wasn't groggy, I wasn't unsure. I didn't blink the sleep out of my eyes. I was staring at he sky, fully conscious, fully aware.

I was lying on my back on the ground. There were trees all around me, their branches reaching high overhead. It must have been fall since the trees were mostly bare, although I didn't really feel cold.

Hm.

I didn't really feel cold or warm, I didn't really feel anything. I also didn't feel particularly bothered about not feeling. I could tell I was lying on my back, and I could sense the ground underneath me, holding me up. I could sense the dirt and the leaves, and some fabric and plastic beneath me as well. I could sense some little bugs moving around, going on about their bug business. I could sense a breeze. All of this was fine. The sky was pretty, even though it was mostly drab and gray. All in all, it felt very late afternoon-y.

I continued to not blink at the sky. That was interesting. I didn't feel like I needed to blink, and that seemed odd. I'm looking, that should mean eyes, and eyes should mean blinking?

Hm.

I can't blink. It doesn't feel like a problem. My eyes don't feel dry. In fact my eyes don't feel.

This. This should strike me as more strange, I think. Should I be getting upset? I'm not upset. I lift my head slightly to look down at the rest of me, the body that I know will be there. I sense a bit of fabric clinging to the top of my head and shoulders slide back and drop away.

Ah!

See, that makes this make more sense. It appears that I am a skeleton. I am looking at my body and my body is a skeleton.

I drop my head back down to the ground and look back up at the sky. I lift my head again to look down at my body that is not a body. Still a skeleton.

I twitch my foot. My bone foot that seems to be held together by nothing in particular. My left bone foot twitches.

I lay my head back down. Ok.

Ok. So.

Ok.

So.

I'm a living skeleton.

[asteria8silver]

Intro and Virtual Sketchbook

Hello, I'm Ashleigh. A little-known detail about me is that I draw and sketch manga and anime. I'm also interested in video games and graphic novels.

"The Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nations Millennium General Assembly" by James Hampton is the piece of art that was selected, and I am assigned to number 17.

While completing his handcrafted pieces at home, James Hampton worked as a janitor.

The picture represents both the Old and New Testaments.

This renowned piece of art is currently at the Smithsonian American Art Museum in Washington DC.

The artwork wasn't discovered until after Mr. Hampton's death in 1964 when the owner found Mr. Hampton's work in a garage where he had kept his project a secret from his family and friends.

James Hampton used tape and glue, old furniture, desk blotters, as well as gold and silver aluminum foil which he assembled to create the artwork.

Nothing affected my opinion of James Hampton's work once I viewed it for the first time. I see that the artist depicts religion and how, even in difficult times, an artist must find a way to busy himself with what he likes to do while never failing to create passionately and with great faith in oneself and one's vision. It also demonstrates the distinction between the Old and New Testaments. On top of the third throne, the words "Fear Not" conveys the idea that there is nothing to fear from the future.

2. The image I glanced at is the cover for my sketchbook. To draw the cover of my book, I use a pencil and some paper. I think the artwork I chose is stylish and engaging since it represents a character I created. My inspiration for a graphic novel's plot also comes from the drawing.

3. My personal struggles from the past and now have led me to this point where I am now attempting to finish my education. This is the "baggage" I bring with me. I am currently in my late twenties. I identify as a black woman. Two years ago, I was a member of a Geek Club, but I left. I have been in Florida for a decade. In addition to streaming on Twitch and Discord, I play video games. I worked as a customer service/security agent. Reading books from the Romantic Era, like Dracula, The Picture of Dorian Gray, and Great Expectations, is one of my strongest suit. This, in my opinion, makes me unique.

4.

[petnews2day]

Emily Ratajkowski bares her toned tummy in a white tube top as she strolls NYC with her dog Colombo

New Post has been published on https://petn.ws/zi808

Emily Ratajkowski bares her toned tummy in a white tube top as she strolls NYC with her dog Colombo

By Ashleigh Gray For Dailymail.Com Published: 23:46 BST, 14 April 2024 | Updated: 23:48 BST, 14 April 2024 Emily Ratajkowski was spotted out and about on Sunday as she stepped out with her dog Colombo in New York City. The 32-year-old supermodel — who was in Boston last week — wore a white tube top with […]

See full article at https://petn.ws/zi808 #DogNews

[andronetalks]

Kim Kardashian rocks an eerie raven wing headpiece while in costume for American Horror Story as she thanks her fans for their support

Daily Mail News – Showbiz By VALERIA GARCIA FOR DAILYMAIL.COM and ASHLEIGH GRAY FOR DAILYMAIL.COM PUBLISHED: 01:53 EDT, 7 April 2024 | UPDATED: 04:04 EDT, 7 April 202 Kim Kardashian took to Instagram rocking a raven wing headpiece while in costume for American Horror Story as she thanked her fans for their support on Saturday. The 43-year-old reality star posed in the eerie all black ensemble for…

[paradise-bi-the-dashboard-lightt]

Musical Theatre meme 2023

↳ [8/10] Shows → Only Fools and Horses The Musical

[hexmorehq]

RORY MORA (Alexandra Shipp) is requesting their PATERNAL COUSIN.

Suggested Face Claims: Aisha Dee, Laverne Cox, Ajya Naomi King, Ashleigh Murray, Ashley Moore, Bree Kish, Alexander Gray, Jordan Alexander, Charles Michael Davis, Kendrick Sampson, Jesse Williams, Tati Gabrielle.

Details are under the read more.

Character Name: Rory Mora (Alexandra Shipp) Connection Type: Paternal Cousin

Species: Witch Connection Name: UTP (surname Mora) Connection Age: 25-40 Suggested Face Claims: Aisha Dee, Laverne Cox, Ajya Naomi King, Ashleigh Murray, Ashley Moore, Bree Kish, Alexander Gray, Jordan Alexander, Charles Michael Davis, Kendrick Sampson, Jesse Williams. Any details or headcanons: This character is the child of Hazel Mora, the missing witch. They are Rory's cousin on her father's side. They are a witch. Rory is supporting this character in looking for their mother and also through the upcoming selection of the new supreme. Contact mun before applying?: Not required.

[airasilver]

PERSPECTIVE

When Fani Willis took the stand, her fury was precise and laser-focused

BY ROBIN GIVHAN

FEBRUARY 15 AT 9:06 PM

Fulton County District Attorney Fani T. Willis (D) walked into the Georgia courtroom Thursday afternoon where lawyers were arguing over whether she would have to take the stand. It was the back half of the long day’s hearing on whether Willis should be removed from the sprawling election tampering case her office has brought against former president Donald Trump and his associates. But the debate between the dueling teams of lawyers became moot when Willis announced that she wanted to testify. Willis settled into the high-backed witness chair. And then she loosed her fury.

She began by declaring that defense attorney Ashleigh Merchant had lied in court filings when she suggested that Willis had slept with special prosecutor Nathan Wade after their first meeting. She fumed that her privacy had been invaded. She reminded Merchant that, “You think I’m on trial. These people are on trial for trying to steal an election in 2020.” And she held up paperwork filed by defense lawyers in a display of disgust. For no small amount of time, it seemed that judge Scott McAfee was a mere bystander in his courtroom.

The hearing had been taken over by Willis and her outrage. Whether her anger was defensive or righteous, it was something to behold.

She sat with her body positioned at a slight angle and rested her fingers on her cheek. Sometimes, she’d lean forward into the microphone but mostly her posture was one of powerful repose. If there is a female equivalent to man-spreading, that tendency of men to sit with their legs akimbo as they take up more than their share of space on a bench or a bleacher, Willis’s stance may well be it. She filled the room with her presence.

She might be more accustomed to asking the questions in a courtroom than answering them, but Willis didn’t have the rigid posture that one so often sees from witnesses who might be fighting off nerves. She sat in the hot seat like it was her throne and she was ready to slice off some heads.

Willis’s testimony followed that of Wade, with whom she’s had a romantic relationship — a relationship that sparked these court proceedings. One of the issues at the heart of whether she should be removed from the case is whether she benefited financially from having appointed Wade to it. And so much of the day’s questioning focused on whether Wade footed the bill for plane tickets and cruises to places such as Belize, Aruba and Napa Valley. Wade explained that the two split costs, with Willis paying him back in cash — thousands of dollars in cash. At a time when many businesses only accept electronic payments and many people never carry cash, Wade made a mess of explaining why Willis was handing over wads of untraceable dollars. He began many sentences with, “Here’s the thing …” And by the time he reached the end of the sentence, well, there was no “thing” there.

Wade sat in the witness chair in his gray plaid three piece suit, with his white French-cuffed shirt, gold cuff links and powder blue pocket square. He grimaced and smiled and repeatedly referenced his wife’s affair as the cause of his filing for divorce in 2021 even though no one asked him why he split with his wife but rather when he started his relationship with Willis. The two have said their romance began after he became special prosecutor, but Merchant presented a witness, Robin Bryant-Yeartie, who contradicted that. Wade repeated his version of the timeline of his relationship with Willis. He drank lots of water, dabbed his face and sniffled ever more vigorously.

Bryant-Yeartie said she’s known Willis since college and that they were once good friends; she also worked in the District Attorney’s office until she was forced to resign. When presented with Bryant-Yeartie’s testimony, Willis made one thing clear immediately. The two might have known each other when they were college students; they might have gone to the same parties; but they did not attend the same college. Willis said she was a student at Howard University and Bryant-Yeartie went to Morgan State, and Morgan State is most definitely not Howard. Then she summed up Bryant-Yeartie as someone who was not her friend and didn’t know what she was talking about. And then Willis pursed her lips, blinked a few times and that was that. She was just getting started.

Willis lectured the gathered attorneys on the philosophy behind keeping cash on hand. Her father taught her that cash was king and a woman should always be financially self-reliant. And so, yes, she had a stash of cash accumulated over time and she used it to reimburse Wade. She dipped into it before a trip so she could pay taxi drivers or barter with vendors. Her description of her father’s advice was a compressed version of a complicated history and modern-day habit. She didn’t go into the discomfort that some Black people have with financial institutions or the ways in which banks have made it more difficult for Black people to do business with them. She didn’t mention that more older people believe in keeping ready cash and that a significant percentage of Black and Hispanic Americans use cash as their predominant payment method. She didn’t have to. She simply talked about what her father had told her to do as a matter of independence and power. “I don’t need any man to foot my bills,” Willis said.

Willis sat in the witness chair for hours. Or, more precisely, she reclined in the chair, woman-splaining how men define relationships and how they end them. She did so wearing a fuchsia dress with a single strand of beads around her neck. Her hair was styled in soft, shoulder-length curls and her eye makeup was precise and intentional. She was a singular bright spot surrounded by a black-robed judge and lawyers in mostly somber suits. Only Willis and her main inquisitor, Merchant, who wore a cobalt blue dress under a white blazer, stood out in the room’s sobriety.

During a November interview with The Washington Post, Willis was asked what advice she’d give to younger women who are trying to be heard. Willis said, in part, “You should be comfortable enough in your own skin to be authentically you, to be a woman. It’s okay to be pretty. It’s okay to, you know, think of things that are feminine things and still be a strong leader.”

Willis walked into court as a woman on the ropes. Some would say the hearing was a mess of her own making. Others might believe the whole mess is a distraction from more important matters. Either way, Willis fought back with gobsmacking fury — defiant in power pink.

Robin Givhan is senior critic-at-large writing about politics, race and the arts. A 2006 Pulitzer Prize winner for criticism, Givhan has also worked at Newsweek/Daily Beast, Vogue magazine and the Detroit Free Press.

[mint-moon25]

[Playlist] Joyful Christmas Jazz Carol 🎄

Samsung S10 - Now compatible

With - Larger Solar - connected

Both 2 this Solar - Amazon Prime

Checking - Can Opener

30 Min ago - Car near me

Blks - Hispanics - No word

Opened Tent Front - in her

Spanish words - other car

Will be Coming - LA Fitness

Treadmill - Leilah Isaac Belly

Dance - Exercise Workout at

YouTube - Treadmill Christa di

Paolo and Itzy - Aespa - Has

Changed my Body Temperature

Warmer Now - 'Rainy Day in New

York' - Ashleigh - Wool Sweater

and - Wool Skirt - New York

Upscale - College - from AZ

Tucson - Arizona - How possuble

Wool - Wool - Treadmill - Exercise

Body now warmer

Hispanic Catholics - Box of Food

Indian Soda - Old Male Hispanic

Used lighter 2 open - 2 pink

Blankets - Male - another small

Blanket - Others - Food - Drink

Full - Need weight 4 tent - Lots

of waters - Going 2 Park getting

Big Jug filled - then - LA Fitness

Facing SW North River Dr - L side

Tent lots of Sun - now Gray - again

Sun again - leaving after adding to

Walmart 4 Safelink Wireless - their

Tracphone - Flip Phone - Died fast

Strongest Winds - Leaving - Soon

Treadmill - above - Belly Dance

Cardio - Boxing - Dance - Aespa

Itzy - Body Warmer - 4 - Winters

Season's - Greetings - US - Korea

[grad604georgiamrickard]

Artists I love List:

Local

Cameron Tillotson

Bonnie Brown Studio bon 

Seachange 

Ruby red heart

Mika cotton

Shane cotton 

Tui Wright - Starlee Studios

Nigel brown

World wide 

Ben jomo

Jasmine Dowling

Kot bonkers

Jean Micheal Basquait

Tess Guiney

Bonnie gray

Ashleigh holmes 

Katie Buehrer

Brittany ferns 

Isabella Cortia

Margaret jane

Carley bourne

Hannah carrick

Marcos Navarro

christopher corr

Joao Incerti

Ben Crase

Jacob Pedrana

Gell bell

Studio of the sun

Brigitte G

Thane Kelland

Laurence Leenaert

Sidney teodoruk

Emma gale

Wolfgang Voegele

Jack kabangu

Olivier Rasir

Adebayo Bolaji

Henri Matisse

Danny Fox

Sadao Hanga

Tyler the creator

[carldgreene]

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