#Charlie Rusk

[thebutcher-5]

Tremors 3 - Ritorno a Perfection

Benvenuti o bentornati sul nostro blog. Nello scorso articolo siamo passati all’animazione, cercando di fare alternanza, e per cambiare abbiamo deciso di prendere in esame la Sony Animation Pictures con una delle loro commedie che trovo interessante, Hotel Transylvania. Il Conte Dracula, per proteggere sua figlia Mavis dagli umani, decide di costruire un hotel dedicato ai soli mostri e che possa…

[nerdestiwrites]

call to the devil and the devil will come

The rest of the hotel had gone to sleep hours prior, the last to return to their rooms having been Charlie and Vaggie, strictly because Vaggie had practically forced the Princess to bed. Charlie had tried to argue, to say that she wasn’t tired, that she could stay up, that if her father was staying up then so could she. Vaggie had none of it, picking up the blonde and carrying her up to the bed as the exhausted princess half struggled against her girlfriend. All the while Lucifer watched from the bar, shouting a goodnight to his little girl and her girlfriend.

The bartender, Rusk, Busk, Nusk, something of that sort, had gone to bed just twenty minutes earlier after the King had assured the demon that his assistance was no longer needed. The cat seemed hesitant about leaving the bar unattended, about leaving his job when clearly Lucifer had no intentions of going to bed, but didn’t argue much past a few grunts and small mutters about how it wasn’t his problem now he was off the clock.

He sat at the bar, two fingers holding onto a thin straw as they stirred around the contents of the nearly empty drink. He hadn’t meant to drink, he was a sloppy drunk and knew that much, but Charlie wanted to celebrate now that the hotel had been rebuilt. She wanted everyone to celebrate, and so he agreed because now that he was back with his daughter, he wouldn’t do anything to disappoint her again. He couldn’t let himself drift back into the haze of never knowing what day it was, letting information just pass by him rather than taking it in and understanding it, of letting himself drift away from her again. He wouldn’t let that happen.

The look on Charlie's face when she realized that Alastor wouldn’t be joining the celebrations, was an excuse, Lucifer knew it was an excuse, about needing to prepare for one of his radio shows, or maybe he had said something about a meeting with someone, or something, it didn’t matter in the end. What had mattered was the disappointment on Charlie's face. Lucifer would absolutely not let that disappointment last on his daughter's face.

So he immediately did what he did best. Distraction. He kicked Husk out from behind the bar, having told him that even the bartender deserved a drink sometimes, and began making everyone a specialized drink. A cotton candy martini for Angel Dust, a muddled blackberry old fashioned for Husk, a cherry flavored Vegas bomb for Cherri, a simple spiked strawberry lemonade for Vaggie, and a rubber duckie-themed drink for Charlie. 

A handful of drinks later, and soon Charlie begged for him to drink with them. He tried to argue, even tried to make a mocktail for himself, but that damned cat bartender saw right through it. And so he had a few cocktails as well, and his mixing became less structured, no longer measured, and more of a free pour, which led to way too strong of drinks. The rest was a blurry mess he struggled to keep straight in his head, and now he sat alone, an empty glass with ice melting and a straw stirring it around.

As he stared into the empty glass, the devil let his head rest in his free hand, eyes closing momentarily as he took in a deep breath. Sleep wasn’t something that found him often, and he’d rather do anything besides lay in bed and stare at the wall or ceiling while his mind spun in the fuzzy state it was in currently. That would definitely be a one-way street to spiraling and he had been doing so well at staying focused and keeping his head on straight. If he spiraled now he might leave the hotel, and if he left, he knew he wouldn’t have the energy to return again. 

So Lucifer stood, stumbled, grabbed onto the edge of the bar, and groaned for a moment as the room spun around him. Sitting on the floor sounded like a good idea but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get up and what a state to find the King of Hell. No, he couldn’t do that either. It would be at least somewhat respectable if he passed out on the couch inside the parlor of the hotel rather than the floor. 

He forced himself to stand straight, focused his eyes on the couch in the near distance, and moved his legs. He kicked his apple cane, sending it to the floor and rolling away but he couldn’t have cared less about the item. No, he had a goal in mind. Couch. Make it to the couch. His hand moved, his angelic power working without his mind helping, and a small plain rubber duck appeared clutched in his hand. 

He squeaked the duck once, then twice, focus. It helped him focus as much as he hated to admit it, even in the drunken state, and he made it to the couch. Lucifer allowed himself to practically fall face-first into the couch, his entire body fitting along the length of it and he groaned. Perhaps he should’ve eaten before drinking so much, perhaps he should’ve been a bit more firm in his no.

The king really should’ve been better. Better than this, better for his daughter. He shouldn’t have just locked himself away, isolating himself from everyone. That did nothing but hurt Charlie, even if he had thought it was the best thing to do. Now there was a strain between him and her and he wasn’t sure he could ever fix it. He needed to fix it. He needed to. Needed to. 

He needed to have something in the background. Music, a show, a podcast, something to keep his mind focused and not spiraling. A squeak of his duck and he sat up on the couch, eyes searching for a remote or a TV or something. Instead, they found an old radio, one of Alastors radios, and a low grumble escaped his lips. Spiraling might be better than using that demon's radio for anything. 

A squeak of his duck told him otherwise and he sighed. Damn, his mind. Damnit it.

A wave of his hand and the radio turned on. Static filled the room and Lucifer the empty hand over his face before reaching over to fiddle with the knobs on the damned ancient relic, not like he had a lot of room to actually say those words out loud. He wasn’t one to usually want to watch TV, it scrambled the brain, and he was much older than the old radio was.

Turning the dial a few times to the left, and then to the right, the devil settled on a frequency that had been playing soft jazz. The music filled the air and he allowed his head to fall back against the couch as he listened, focusing on the different instruments that he could pick out and recognize. Perhaps if he could sit here long enough, he could get past the drunkenness and skip right past the hangover. Wishful thinking, drunk wishful thinking, but still. The king might not have many hopes left, let this be one that he knew was silly.

The radio started to glitch, or rather, it sounded like someone had turned the dial, interrupting the jazz and filling the room with static. An annoyed look crossed Lucifer's face and he looked up at the small radio. The dial was still pointed at the direction he had left it, but the static continued to get louder and more intense. He frowned, eyebrows furrowed, and he reached forward, turned the dial, and nothing. It remained the same. He groaned audibly now and sat up once more, the duck dropping from his hand and rolling underneath the couch. The radio suddenly shut off.

“Hahaha! What a sight to see! Truly!” The voice with the radio filter over it filled the silence and Lucifer's head snapped in its direction.

There stood Alastor, hands clasped behind his back as he leaned forward over the couch, staring down at the King. The fallen angel growled and went to grab onto the demon, however in his drunken state he had been too slow, or perhaps he overestimated how far he needed to grab, or maybe it was a mixture of both, and he ended up tumbling over the back of the couch onto the floor. A laugh track filled the air and Lucifer could feel the anger and embarrassment flowing through him more. The alcohol inside his system fueled his emotions. 

“You-” The King started as he pulled himself up off the floor, using the couch for support before whipping to face the demon once more. “You are so fucking lucky that Charlie cares for you. I would-would fuck you so hard.” His words slurred and he stumbled to find the words he wanted to say, and even when he wasn’t drunk he had a difficult time saying what he actually meant.

The Radio demon, who now stood a few feet away from the devil, raised an eyebrow, his smile tightening slightly as his head turned to the side slightly, mockingly. He stood there staring at Lucifer with that stupid face, mocking him. Oh, how he would love to wipe that smile off of the other's face.

Alastor stepped to the side as Lucifer rushed at him and watched the smaller man nearly trip and fall once more to the floor. He hummed, and laughed again, loud with the laugh track behind his voice. He was clearly entertained by the devil's inebriated state, which pissed Lucifer off even more. “Do you need help, sire?” He asked.

“Fuck you!” Lucifer snapped as he held his head, feeling a wave of nausea start to wash over him. 

“I would rather not.” Alastor mused, a taunt, and he snickered quietly. “Be careful with saying those words too loud, you might wake a certain resident who wouldn’t be so averse to spending a night with royalty.” 

That hadn’t been what he meant, the Radio demon knew that, he just wanted to get underneath the fallen angels' skin it seemed, and it was working. Lucifer's jaw clenched and he balled his hands into fists, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands before he took in a deep breath. Then he snapped his fingers, causing Alastors feet to become literally attached to the floor he was standing on.

Lucifer stalked toward him now that the other couldn’t move away and he saw Alastors eyes narrow as his smile tightened, the radio frequencies filling the air erratically. He moved the couch slightly with a wave of his hand so it was right behind the demon and then looked up at his face. The way Alastor stared down at him caused the anger to boil inside his chest more and it gave him the strength he needed. 

The apple cane suddenly appeared inside his hand and the king used it to shove Alastor, shoving him hard with the cane right in his torso, causing the other to fall over the side of the couch onto the cushions as the power holding his feet disappeared completely. 

Lucifer saw a flash of pain across the demon's face, the smile remaining couldn’t hide the pain inside the others' eyes, and for a moment he felt guilty. Then, as Lucifer stood there, stared at the demon as he laid on the couch, catching his breath, a hand over his torso, he could feel it. The fallen angel could feel the angelic energy radiating off of Alastors chest, he could feel it pulsating with every heartbeat and could feel it seeping further into the demon.

He sighed. A deep and long sigh as he realized what he had to do. The image of the disappointed face of Charlie flashing in his mind turned to one of grief and sadness. No, he wouldn’t let that happen to his little girl, he wouldn’t let that look ever cross her face again if there was anything he could do about it. 

And so, even in his drunken state, the anger had completely dissipated and had been replaced. He leaned over the side of the couch, fighting off the next wave of nausea that came rushing forth, and he stared at the demon who glared up at him. Alastor went to get off the couch, wanting to get out from under the King and get away from feeling like he was cornered, however, when he went to move, Lucifer's hand came down and touched his chest. 

A sharp radio noise came from Alastor at the touch, and Lucifer grunted. He undid the buttons on the demon's shirt and pulled away the soaked bandages, staring at the wound intently. “That looks like it-it hurts.” He commented offhandedly as he shook his head. Again, the cane was disregarded, no longer needing it and drunkenly not caring where it ended up at the moment. The fallen angel then hovered his hand over the wound, he knew in his current state he wouldn’t be able to heal it completely, he wouldn’t be able to get rid of the angelic radiation inside the wound that would continue to fester, but he could fight it off some and provide some pain relief. 

The Radio demon had his concerns, that much was evident as his entire body tensed at the light emanating from the king's hand, and he gripped the edge of the couch as he felt the warmth on his torso, but his body relaxed on its own as the intense pain he had been feeling subsided to almost nothing. Alastor blinked twice as he looked down at the wound, watching bright light, and Lucifer smiled confidently, smugly, as he pulled his hand back. That would be all he could feasibly do for the night unless he wanted to pass out and fall on top of the demon. Which would be worse than the floor. 

“I’m going… I’m going to… Fuck.” Lucifer moved away from the demon and shook his head a few times, grunting at his own slurring of his words. He needed to get to bed, even if he wasn’t going to sleep. If he was in his room at least then he wouldn’t embarrass himself so much. 

Alastor, always one to keep a smile on his face, to keep the show going, smirked at the perfect opportunity to spin the scenario back around. “You’re not going to do that with me, sire.”

Lucifer growled and glared at Alastor, immediately regretting what he had done for the demon. “That wasn’t what-what I was fucking saying and-nd you know it.” He snapped. “Going to bed.” Short and to the point, no chance of messing it up that time. 

Normally he would teleport himself to his room, it was easier and he wouldn’t have to walk as he wasn’t sure he could walk, but the risk of teleporting somewhere besides his room was a big enough fear that he decided he’d risk walking and falling on his face. So Lucifer turned away from the Radio demon and made his way carefully up the steps. He walked down the hallway, using the wall for support, and stopping every few feet to make sure he wasn’t going to be sick. Then he’d continue. And once he made it to his room, he congratulated himself before falling face first on the bed, burying his face into the pillows with a loud groan. He’d be regretting every single one of his life choices tomorrow, he knew that. He could already feel the regret with every passing wave of nausea threatening to win and take over. He’d have to tell Charlie, no more drinking nights for this old man, he couldn’t do it anymore.

[thealmightyemprex]

Hitchcock villains catergorized

I might do this weith other filmmakers .ALso if you want me to elaborate on certain villains ,comment and reblog

The lamest

EDward Drayton fom Man Who Knew Too Much 1956

Most underrated

Uncle Charlie from Shadow of a Doubt

Most enjoyably evil

Phillip and Brandon from Rope

Most devious

Mrs Danvers from Rebecca

Most vile

Bob Rusk from Frenzy

The Scariest

 Lars Thorwald from Rear Window

The most tragic

Norman Bates from Psycho

The most Realistic

Bruno from Strangers on a Train

The Coolest

Abbott from The Man Who Knew Too Much 1934

My Favorite

Tony Wendice from Dial M for Murder

@ariel-seagull-wings @the-blue-fairie @greektragedydaddy @amalthea9 @theancientvaleofsoulmaking @princesssarisa @angelixgutz @themousefromfantasyland @filmcityworld1 @marquisedemasque

[softantigone]

My little sister's teacher tells her

the most fascinating story

in science class today:

not everyone is going to like you.

Think of how the cosmos was created.

Some things were as opposite

as opposite could be,

like matter and antimatter

destroying each other the minute

they touched for no particular reason

and then there was the rest of the crowd

unsure, never quite making up their minds,

dark matter-like people.

Everything you've ever known

was designed to have its own taste,

but that's okay, she says.

You don't have to be universally accepted,

you just need a handful that's got your back

and I promise you, you will find your tribe.

Whether it's a pack of laughing hyenas

in threes or Dorothy's Oz syndicate of

the Scarecrow, the Tin Man

and the lion, you will find them.

They'll like you a lot,

even on the days you don't.

They'll like you during your mohawk era

and your mermaid hair phase,

your drinking-instead-of-facing-yourself

years and your 'I-quit-my-job-I'm-broke' stage.

They'll like you despite

the fifty people out there who don't,

and they'll like you enough to tell you

that you don't need to win anyone over.

Hold onto them.

The ones who'll cheer you on when

you're running the rat race you signed up for

and yet bring you chai and

a plate of Britannia rusk

when you decide to take a break

and start gardening remotely instead.

The ones who make you their cup of tea,

regardless of the world thinking

you're not warm enough.

Sweet enough.

Strong enough. Light enough.

Good enough.

Because the truth is,

you could be

the best version of yourself,

and still come last

in someone else's judging sheet.

And rumour has it

that once Charlie Chaplin entered

a Chaplin look-alike contest

and came twentieth in place.

Somewhere, someone loves him

twenty times more

just to make up for this.

[fakesurprise]

One Jaysome Day: 2 am

Two am: Officer Deltoro

(1 am is here)

‘Witches aren’t scary,’ had been all the advice Maureen had given me when I’d been assigned to the night crew. Anyone else might have called that useless advice from dispatch. But the staff sergeant actually liked me, and had given me a pack of battered and classified stuff to read six hours ago. Some of it was hearsay. Some wasn’t. A lot of it was stapled together and rewritten. It had taken time to read; I’d made the time.

There are Things in the world that no one has names for. Entities, forces. Some wear human skin. A few are probably the sources of those crap novels my brother always reads. Not that I can tell him about any of it. Not that he’d want me to: the point of fantasy is that it isn’t real.

To serve and protect means we serve Them as well, if creatures ask for it. And to protect means we protect people from Them. If we have to. I’m not about to pretend I understand how, if some of the reports are true.

Not that we’re alone. A lot of entities abide by laws of one kind or another. Sometimes they might even help us. Sometimes that even helps.

Tonight has been quiet. Drunks at one bar, a couple of tickets for speeding, more for distracted driving. I had almost forgot the files in the way you learn to set things aside when a voice spoke up behind me.

“Hi!”

I turn. No boy should be out of their own at two am. He has on bright yellow rain boots, black and white skirt and a rather normal grey t-shirt. And he is eleven, which I simply know.

Then he grins, and the grin is pure joy and innocence and a dozen things I have no words for. I feel tears welling up at the sheer poetry of it, but don’t dare let them spill. I don’t think he would understand.

Because he was in the packet the sergeant gave me. The newest section, which I thought had to be a joke.

“My name is Officer Deltoro. How can I be of assistance?” I say by rote.

“Well! I totally found an adventure that doesn’t want to happen and – oh! I’m Jay! I almost forgot to say that, but I think that’s because you know since lots of people have heard of jaysome!”

“I – yes?” I say. SCP is how you were to deal with Jay. Sensitive Critical Policing.

“Well, an adventure not wanting to happen is totally not jaysome you know!”

And I do, the same way I know he’s eleven and jaysome. A small part of me notices this is the same instinct that notices something off about a person, the kind that leads to a more probing investigation and commendations when it goes right.

I shove the thought aside. I have no idea if Jay can read minds. I suspect he doesn’t need to.

He grabs my hand, and we are halfway across the city outside a junkyard the city had closed down two years ago.

Jay points inside. “The rust people want to not have an adventure.”

I walk toward the door, with Jay bouncing along beside me. It opens. The place is condemned, closed down and shuttered three years ago but the gate opens and a path forms between piles of garbage as I play my flashlight about.

“....”

I think my silence says things, because Jay says: “Oh, that’s totally you since being police is important and people make room for police lights.”

I don’t say that my flashlight isn’t a siren. I just walk, and watch all the ruins and crumpled bits of vehicles move almost soundlessly away from me. There are rats in the junkyard, and probably other things as well. I don’t see any of them. No stray cats, no stray dogs. Just the light, ruined vehicles and then the small shed that used to be the office.  The shed at least doesn’t move away, but it gives me pause.

I turn around, my hand over the light so nothing would move from it and study a few vehicles. There is no rust on any of them at all.

I take a deep breath and turn back, rap on the door to the shed with my flashlight. “Police. Open up.”

The door opens, despite a cacophony of squealing hinges like rusty Tin Men trying to do the tango at a costume ball.

Inside there aren’t people. There are are vehicle parts, and some are shaped like people. Some thing made solely of alternators, another of windshield wipers. All somehow come together to form creatures. What used to be a work table remains, and it has faint traces of rust on it. As I watch, a thin junk-critter made from tire tubes and windshield wipers snorts up an entire line of rust.

This explains the lack of rusk in the junk yard. I actually think that, almost rationally, then realize I have no idea how they are snorting it. Or why. Or to what end.  

“Did the other cars give you permission to take their rust?” I ask.

The entities stare at each other, then at Jay.

“I think so?” Jay says. “It’s pretty complexicated though. They claim to be high but they’re only on the ground so I am pretty confusled!”

Sensitive. I consider several options. “I think their adventure is removing rust, so they’re rather busy at that.”

“I could bring them a lot more rust,” Jay offers.

Critical. “I think they’re fine getting it themselves.” I lower my voice. I have no idea what these junk-creatures are. I don’t even know if they have ears, let along know human languages. “Otherwise they might have too much and sometimes too much of some things is a bad thing.”

“Oh! Like pet snuffaluffazillas! Charlie said even one of those was too much.”

Policing. “I think they’ll just stay in here and bother no one,” I say, and the door to the shed is closed tight against us. We leave the junk yard, and it looks like we were never there at all.

“So, I guess that was an adventure even if it wasn’t?” Jay says.

“I believe so.” “Okay! Bye, Jada!”

And he vanishes. Leaving me half a city away from my patrol car. Or did, until it is simply there beside me in the street. Only it wasn’t pink before.

I make it back to the station after an attempt to get the pink removed at a body shop we’ve been meaning to close down. Nothing works, but the beam from  my flashlight does get vehicles to move out of my way. I keep it turned off, go into the station and report to Staff.

He listens, nods a few times. “You did well, Jada. And got off easier than most. Try not to, ah, use the flashlight too often. We can’t do much about the patrol car, especially not with budgets being as they are.”

“How am I going to explain this.”

“Put jaysome on the report. Anyone who needs to know will understand.”

“That – seems like a worrying precedent?”

He smiles. “Try claiming something was jaysome when it wasn’t, Officer Deltoro.”

“It’s happened before?”

“Out east. Once. Hard to explain to the family how someone got eaten alive by angry paperwork.”

I nod, thank him and head to my desk and do up the report.

There is no feedback at all, but I do get a pay bump.

On the condition I never try and find out what kind of siren my flashlight likely has inside it.

[tinknevertalks]

How have Charlie's teachers ever got her to listen to them?! In the little while she's sat and done stuff (#thehungrycaterpillar for the actual win - I like this week's theme) she drew a bunch of fruit and wrote the days of the week, and I asked which day came after one I picked (and sometimes which day came before), and she got it, but she also fiddled with ten zillion things, had a banana, gave Thea a banana and a rusk, ran to the loo, complained that she didn't want to go outside (it means changing out of pjs - it's a very relaxed homeschool today?) and yeah. I take my metaphorical hat off to all #teachers. ... Am I just expecting too much of her? I probably am. #FamilyLife #Lockdown #ImHavingFunAnyways https://www.instagram.com/p/B_zmGIdh7ch/?igshid=1jswmt340pdku

[charlymurg]

Hey Charly, what’s it like house hunting when you’re both from different cultures.

So, for background I’m working class from Leeds. Andre is the equivalent of middle class from South Africa but has lived here for about 14 years.

It’s not often that I realise how different the worlds are that me and Andre are from are. Usually it’s the odd word that doesn’t translate properly (when we met I was so confused when he bought me a blanket when I asked for a quilt... all quilts are blankets but not all blankets are quilts to me) or disgusting food differences (rusks can get in the bin and please stop putting banana on pizza) but house hunting has really bought it out for me.

House hunting is a big deal, I’m not on the mortgage but I’ll be living there (and paying rent) so it’s important that we’re both happy with the house we find. In the beginning we had a lot of the same requirements... we want some outside space, we need to be able to get to commute easily, we need to be able to fit our bed in the room (South African beds are HUGE like super kings). We don’t mind a bit of work but we stop at things like having to replace windows or the roof.

One thing is becoming very obvious though...the space in South Africa allows for a very different experience. Now, obviously I’m not ignorant...it’s absolutely not like that for everyone in South Africa, the unequality between rich and poor is vast and the only place we can really make that comparison truly in the UK is London. I grew up in a terraced house on a rough inner city estate on street parking and small gardens are not a big deal for me. In comparison, Andre grew up in houses I could never dream of affording in the uk but with the compromise of security. One of the reasons that you have so much house and land in SA is that you just can’t leave often because if you do you’re open to muggings, car-jackings, kidnap, murder etc and that’s one of the few things that is universal across races there. It’s fair to say our expectations are VERY different. For example, tonight’s argument was “yeah but if you have on street parking you have to walk down the road with your shopping bags sometimes”. In the UK that’s laziness, in SA that’s dangerous. I’m really struggling to be logical about these things.

The judgement of houses like terraces hits hard for me, I’ve grown up in one, privacy to me isn’t the slightest issue but “OMG PEOPLE CAN SEE IN OUR GARDEN” for me the only privacy question I’ve had in this hunt is floor to ceiling windows (for obvious reasons). There’s also a question of the economy... I don’t want to talk too in depth about it because obviously it’s a sensitive subject but for me a profit is a profit. I want to make a profit but be able to live comfortably at the same time. The South African economy (as we have touched on) is VERY different to the UK you get a lot of bang for your buck essentially. In the UK if you want to live in a good area you’re just going to have to compromise on space...it’s a brick wall I feel like I’m hitting eternally.

Add into this that the market right now is INSANE! We live in a part of the country where house prices are crazy...the average house price here is £222,000 in Leeds it’s about £204,000 with terraced properties going for about £150,000. To give you an idea of what we’re up against...last week we rang to book viewings on houses in one street. There were 3 up for sale...2 went that first morning before we even got a chance. The third weren’t having viewings until yesterday. We arrived at 5pm, the 5th viewers of the property...by that time there were already 4 full price offers on the table and it was going to best and finals. The property itself was barely big enough to swing a cat, on-street parking, a tiny back garden. It is INSANE. As you can see we need to move fast but we’re working around Andre’s work hours too as well as a fast paced market. It is virtually impossible. Tonight we viewed a house I loved...Andre is taking his time on it (obviously, it’s a lot of money to spend) but we have now viewed about 10 vastly different houses (they’re the only ones we could get bookings on or that aren’t in a shithole) it’s time we don’t have. In the last week they’ve started putting us on waiting lists for houses because the viewings are so out of hand. The estate agent said it’s the same for a £60k bedsit in Birkenhead or a £650k house in the countryside. I’m at a loss. I’m terrified we’re going to miss out on our perfect house just by taking too much time to think. It sounds like such a first world problem but frankly, after spending lockdown in a top floor flat with no garden in an area that isn’t particularly nice (but at least we get free entertainment when the police show up) it’s fair to say I REFUSE to spend another lockdown where we are now...

[washdayradionetwork]

If I could find the version of this that Charlie Louvin recorded with Charles Whitstein, my life would be complete. There's something about old men singing these lyrics that's almost unbearably risky.

Until then, here are The Louvin Brothers, singing it at an age when you expect men to rusk everything for love. This is, "Don't Laugh".

[rebelleecharly]

• spot the Charly pt. 2 • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • #modernsalon #babylisspro #aquagehaircare #backintheday #hairbrained #estetica #babylisspro #babyliss4barbers #rusk #aquage #cosmoprof #photostudio #pba #americasbeautyshow #deepshinegloss #saloncentric #licensetocreate #americasbeautyshow #ruskpro #naha #redhair #haircolor # haircolor #haircolorist #nyc #javitscenter #hairshow #avantgardehair #naha #hairbrained (at Javits Center) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bu73mBMhxY2/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=8hllesw93r02

[kidsviral-blog]

Is It Pet Food Or Baby Food?

New Post has been published on https://kidsviral.info/is-it-pet-food-or-baby-food/

Is It Pet Food Or Baby Food?

Can you tell the difference?

View this image ›

Jenny Chang/BuzzFeed

1.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet Food

Baby Food

It’s Beech-Nut Classics’ Chicken & Chicken Broth

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

2.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet food

Baby food

It’s Gerber Graduates Lil’ Meat Sticks

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

3.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet food

Baby food

It’s Natural Balance’s Pawpaya Pilaf

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

4.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet food

Baby food

It’s Gerber Graduates’ Yellow Rice & Chicken with Vegetables

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

5.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet food

Baby food

It’s Old Mother Hubbard’s Fruit-Ins Dog Snacks

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

6.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet food

Baby food

It’s Hills’ Savory Chicken Entrée

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

7.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet food

Baby food

It’s Earth’s Best’s Vegetable Beef Pilaf

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

8.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet food

Baby food

It’s Gerber Graduates’ Puffs Cereal Snack

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

9.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet food

Baby food

It’s Purina’s Beef & Cheese Entrée

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

10.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet food

Baby food

It’s Gerber Graduates’ Pasta Stars in Meat Sauce

11.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet food

Baby food

It’s Charlie Bear’s Dog Treats

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

12.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet food

Baby food

It’s Nature’s Recipe’s Lamb, Rice & Barley Stew

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

13.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet food

Baby food

It’s Baby Mum-Mum’s Rice Rusks

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

14.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet food

Baby food

It’s Iams Woof Delights’ Hearty Party of Chicken & Beef Stew

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

15.

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Pet food

Baby food

It’s Gerber Graduates’ Creamy Chicken Stew with Vegetables

Macey Foronda/BuzzFeed

Is It Pet Food Or Baby Food?

SHARE YOUR RESULTS

3. Bon Appétit!

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[jonahjdz90415775-blog]

Plus Years, Santa clam Monica Area Legal representative To Resign

Santa clam Monica is a beachfront city in western side L.a Region, California, United States. Besides comments by Mayor Winterer, Mayor Cole, Assistant Cisneros (themselves a past Chamber of Business Chair in San Antonio, TX) as well as Enclosure from Trade management, the event will definitely showcase an upgrade on the extremely successful Hack the Seaside series the Enclosure launched last year in alliance along with the Area to urge the modern technology community's participation in metropolitan life. Given that the renowned Hollywood indication, that neglects the community of Sundown Blvd along with its tv centers and also film along with ultra-chic boutiques from Rodeo Ride, Los Angeles is an area that entices all those who dream of ending up being a star, people which roam along Hollywood Blvd on the promenade or even seaside in Santa clam Monica. Santa clam Monica has actually additionally set up an eco-friendly building-code whereby just building to code immediately provides a property equivalent to the US Green Building Council's LEED Silver standards. General Parking: Public parking is actually readily available alongside the Santa clam Monica Civic Reception hall, which is southern of the court house. Ana Jara, a Santa clam Monica-born area innovator, worked on Wellspring to Profession, a data-driven project concentrated on youth health and wellbeing, which may be thought about the Health and wellbeing Job's precursor. Santa Monica was just one of the 1st areas in the nation to build a windows registry of the most vulnerable people experiencing persistent being homeless. House to the Santa Monica Museum of Craft, site visitors to Mid-City can scan the biggest collection of art showrooms on the West Shoreline. New non commercial neighborhoods sprang up as well as the city of Ocean Playground became part of Santa clam Monica. The 1st city center was actually a reasonable 1873 block building, later on a draft beer venue, and right now aspect of the Santa clam Monica Hotel It is Santa Monica's earliest extant structure. Graduates are demanded to join annual graduates events and also quarterly coach meetings up until their university graduation to sustain their active condition. Robert St. Genis, executive supervisor from the Los Angeles Short-term Rental Alliance, which exemplifies short-term leasing managers, acknowledged a downtrend in lists in Santa Monica however said the regulation has actually don't done anything to lower rental rates. EXACTLY WHERE: Port del Rey is about 14 miles southwest of L.a city center, as well as under a kilometer from Los Angeles International Flight terminal. All non-service related expenses gathered through an organisation, such as a health and wellness advantage" additional charge charged through some Santa Monica companies, need to be actually made use of to spend for employees' advantages, and any kind of excess totals have to additionally be given word for spending on employee benefits. Annually the Metropolitan area of Santa clam Monica likewise hosts to the United States Movie Market & Conferences. The common council all permitted the limitations in 2015 after homeowners whined that Airbnb rentals were actually spreading out throughout the metropolitan area, leaving behind far fewer standard apartments on call for residents to lease, which subsequently raised rental prices in an actually costly market. I believe their settlements are comparable to their responsibilities from their tasks," Mayor Rick Cole claimed. In between overtime, other types of wages and also advantages, overall compensation often tripled and multiplied for Santa Monica Metropolitan area workers and also their versions throughout Los Angeles County, baseding on the questionnaire by Transparent The golden state, a solution delivered by Nevada Policy Study Institute. Avon vehicle rental companies are actually favored for lengthy hours from utilization both inside Los Angeles metropolitan area and outstation trips including Beverly Hillsides and also Santa Monica. Charlie Stream has a laborious, however Santa clam Monica is a daunting place, and also our experts target to be the best," Cole claimed. As Santa Monica's brand-new CIO, Cevetello will lead the metropolitan area's Information Equipment Department, which handles internal innovation, sites and also electronic tactic, as well as the area's broadband system, City Net. Santa Monica Condition Coastline: If you receive exhausted from sunbathing or even playing in the ocean, Santa clam Monica State Seaside is actually fantastic considering that you have Pacific Park at Santa clam Monica Boat dock with video games, flights and dining establishments. Our team at the Santa Monica Enclosure from Business makes it a concern to serve as a beneficial resource to your service. Santa clam Monica is a community that, left to market pressures, would be entirely expensive," states Julie Rusk, who leads the city's Wellbeing Project. The Metropolitan area is delighted to be introducing this impressive innovation that features on-board computers that lock, open and also track the bikes using DIRECTION FINDER. As city lawyer, she was accountable for recommending the metropolitan area region, various other city policemans as well as represent the area as well as its own staff members in civil cases. Our Vote Local area Campaign encourages young adults in Santa Monica to enroll with their neighborhood address, acquire notified on local problems, and elect down the election. Having said that, in the fall months of September through November, the Santa clam Ana winds will often blow off the east, taking smoggy as well as warm inland air to the seasides. Discussion forum: Wednesday, Oct 26, 6:30 p.m. at Ken Edwards Facility, 1527 4th Street, Santa clam Monica, 90401. I joined reflection centres in Redwood City and also Mountain View, and took a bookbinding course. Roughly one-fifth from the Wellness Task's survey participants revealed fret about spending their lease or home mortgage, however they, by definition, are actually the blessed ones, those that manage to live in Santa clam Monica whatsoever. Much like condition regulation, under the Regulation, staff members will certainly build up one hour from spent unwell time for every 30 hrs operated (featuring overtime hours) in Santa Monica, unless the employer attends to a quicker accrual cost. That is winter months, nonetheless, when the warm, dry winds from the Santa Anas are very most popular. In a lot of circumstances falling in these categories will certainly mean that a a great deal of vagrants will certainly try to support income and also will certainly have to locate areas to rest within the area. Police Chief Jacqueline Seabrooks is actually the highest-paid metropolitan area staff member along with a fringe benefit totting nearly $480,000. The success from the Boardwalk has actually brought in downtown Santa Monica a model for cities almost everywhere. One typical accusation versus the City Council by those in support of always keeping the airport terminal was actually that, due to this being actually an election year, the continued tries to shut the airport terminal was actually nothing at all much more than political grandstanding. And you can't see Santa clam Monica without visiting Santa clam Monica Pier, which is loaded along with amusement park tourist attractions, stores, and dining establishments. . This is only very luxurious hotels and resort from the city located at 101 Wilshire Blvd in the Beach Cities. The Union has performed lots of points including a Health and wellness Perks Contract with built-in cost of residing increases, Set up a Medical Insurance coverage Count on for Retired life, established a Cooperation with the City to stay away from discharges, Revised assessment types, Improved PERS Death Advantages, Revised assessment types and also so much more. If you have any questions regarding where and ways to utilize mountains in wales over 3000 feet - see this -, you could call us at the site. There is the little bit of Eastern community of Hill View with its astonishing collection of bistros; the area of San Jose with its own aged fine art deco accommodations as well as Spanish-style buildings; Los Gatos with its own enchanting heirloom and also developer retail stores; Saratoga, a lovely outdated town at the feet from the Santa Cruz mountains.

[fakesurprise]

A New Joy

The Xolt war machine isn’t a machine, as other civilizations understand it. The Warmaker is too vast, blotting out the sky like a dark sun come to roost on a planet. Alien energy weapons harvested from a thousand worlds carve into another conquest with their power. A hundred machines made to plunder dig deep into the crust of the world. It sings as it works, the song a grinding of metals and sundered dreams woven together. It is said that the Xolt tried to destroy it once, even to turn it off, and they failed.

Not that the Warmaker turned on them. It has simply moved on and forgot them. Left them to the mercies of their own victims, though it’s doubtful that was intended. The Warmaker needs energy to survive, and all it knows is hunger. I’ve gathered the last of the Fleet: everything we could beg, find, steal. It was on Hospitalia IV, last and most protected of all the hospital worlds. That meant nothing. We all knew people who had been saved that, and more who had peace in their final days.

“Captain. Ma’am.” I turn to Ensign Charlie. I have no idea if that’s their real name or not. “Camera system, ma’am.”

I walk over. Every camera has been trained onto one street. I want to ask about the misuse of resources, but the Warmaker has stopped. The entire thing. No weapons are firing, no energies burning or discharging. It looked smaller, held in place, but somehow more menacing. “Transit. Myself, Squad A. Now.”

The transit system is as unpleasant as ever, but we are on the world a moment later. The others have weapons, ready and primed for any foe. 12 people in the Squad, some of the deadliest fighters in the Fleet. I have no weapon save words.

I can’t find a single one.

A young man stands in front of the entire Warmaker. He is fifteen, a speck before it’s vastness, but somehow his voice carries. “I saw you pass through the Regi Nebula. Darkness and death and wild energies of life and chaos. And I thought: ‘I should tell Logan about this.’ That is what I thought. So I came here. Where I met him last. Where he died. And you came here, because the universe works like that sometimes. I’ve been away from this part of the universe for a while. I was a pirate, and then other things in different places far from here. Trying to see nothing familiar. To be away from faces I might know. It takes work sometimes to not be known, to hide from a universe that knows too many stories about you

“Hiding never took work when I was younger. It was what I was, but every story, every legend, every time I act chipped away at that talent over time. And often all I can do is act. I should have been aware of you sooner. But I’ve been – moping, you might call it, if a Warmaker can mope. Kept waiting for one of Logan’s jokes, for a smile, a shared – and he is gone, and there are none.”

He closes one hand. The boy – creature – closes a hand, and the Warmaker shrinks down. Squeezes down, impossibly small, and crushed. There is an explosion. Many of them, somehow contained by the same gesture. He is not hurt. He does not even look tired, at least not of that. There is no sign of the Warmaker at all. As if it has been crushed below the subatomic with that simple gesture.

I walk forward. I manage the steps on my third try. He turns. He looks fifteen still, and sad, but his smile is real and wan. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” I get out.

“I should have sensed it years ago and dealt with it. I was – doing other things. Evading memories. Not being jaysome.”

I stare. There are stories, but they are only stories. “You’re Jay? That Jay?”

He looks almost bashful when he nods.

“What about the people?” That’s Rusk, behind me, demanding. “The Warmaker killed thousands here!”

“And will kill no more.”

“You have power!”

“I do. I do have power. Logan once accused me of evading responsibility, but it’s never that at all. I’m not a god, not like you want, not with everything you’d give that name, Rusk Orisha. Any god worthy of the name gives up that power or runs away, you understand? Because if they do not, the people they ‘help’ will only remain children and never grow. I lost a friend I cared about deeply. If I was the kind of Power you wish me to be, he would be here today. He is not. Logan died.”

His voice does not crack on that word. He is old beyond easy understanding, a Power beyond any reckoning. I move forward, almost beside him. “Can we help you?”

He blinks. He laughs: small, soft, delighted and surprised. “I think you just did. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be like that.”

“You should. Joy is important,” I say softly.

He draws back. Something about him closes off. Rusk tenses.

“Hiding from joy is – dangerous, for you and for others. A friend died. A close friend, I believe, but that does not mean you have to deny yourself joy. Or their memory. Or the places you once knew. It can’t mean that.”

“I could tell him everything I want to,” and there is nothing in Jay’s voice save truth. “Time doesn’t bind me like it does others. I could go back, see him before – but there are things I don’t dare to do.” He turns to Rusk. “It is not hard, you understand, to bring the dead to life. Technologies do it often: pressure here, movement there. Elecricity and drugs. But when I bring the dead back, I do it from deeper places. They are gone, you understand, and to bring them back I would have to make the dead forget they had died, and then to make everyone else forget that as well. To change bindings on such a scale is not something I should do.”

He does not say it is something he cannot do. Rusk blinks, then nods and steps back. It’s the first time I’ve seen Rusk back down from anything, and he once faced a Hingari in single combat. Everyone else in Squad A is silent. No hands are on weapons. Some things you can’t face with weapons. Not even with words.

“Thank you,” I say. “You stopped the Warmaker. I don’t think we could have, not without too many more dying.” I take a deep breath. A captain bears responsibilities. “I am not your friend. But if you need someone to speak with, as if they were your friend, I could do that. Listen. Talk. It would not be the same – nothing could! - but joy is better than pain. We have tears, and then laughter, and we can transform our pain. If we can, can’t you?”

“Sometimes I feel it is all I should do.” He smiles, gently, and is gone a moment later. But the smile lingers behind. No one from Squad A touches a weapon as we do a scan of the planet. I’m not sure anyone of them will again. All I can hope is that Jay finds someone else to tell stories to before they can consume him.

                                                                 *

It is four weeks before Rusk comes into my quarters. He looks dazed, eyes wide and scared. “Jay visited me last night. I thought he’d come to you.”

“He told you a story?”

“About an adventure.” And the last word has meanings I can’t parse. Rusk shares nothing.

“Thank you for letting me know.”

He nods. “Captain? Why me?”

“I have no idea. I’m not sure an entity like Jay is meant to be understood, Rusk.”

“Or we understand him far too well,” Rusk whispers, and I think I wasn’t meant to hear the words. He departs.

I have no idea if Jay will ever visit me. I don’t know what to make of that. I make a note of ‘jaysome’ in Rusk’s file, knowing Central will know what it means. I pour myself a drink.

I pretend I am not waiting for Jay.

[imagesbylemke]

Fireside Muskie.  That's the name of the lake by the way!  In Rusk County, WI.  Got this fish on a quickset sucker rig within5 minutes of being on the water.  Charlie who was fishing with me had not even gotten his sucker in the water, and my buddies in they boats though I was fooling around with them #muskie #lancelemke #grilling_tech #blastfromthepast #fishing #muskiefishing #quicksetsucker #tuffyboats #ruskcountywisconsin #firesidelake #muskie #muskies #freshwatertiger #fishofathousandcasts #fall #catchandrelease #loveit #tagsta_nature #nature #animalsofinstagram #natureporn #wild #instanature #wildlife #animale #lake #water #travelwisconsin (at Fireside Lake Resort)

[rebelleecharly]

• spot the Charly pt. 2 • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • #modernsalon #babylisspro #aquagehaircare #avantgardefashion #editorialhair #hairbrained #estetica #babylisspro #babyliss4barbers #rusk #aquage #cosmoprof #editorialhair #americasbeautyshow #americansalon #beautylaunchpad #fashionphotography #hairshow #editorialphotography #models #licensetocreate #nyc #internationalbeautyshow #hairshow (at Javits Center) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bu73S4QBtN0/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1u6ay67vrmnn6