#Nixon BUI Vodka

[liquorland11]

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[infinitegalahad]

Hi! Request with prompt “i’m not jealous!” “you’re clearly jealous.” With nixon please? I love jealous nix! Lol 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙 You’re the best!!!

WASHING MACHINE HEART

Prompts: "I'm not jealous!" and "You're clearly jealous"

Gif Credit: @andrewhaldane

Summary: Nothing ever lasts forever, everybody wants to rule the world. You are pretty much the only person who could change the way Lewis operates, and that's exactly what you do-change him.

Word-Count: 4.8k

WARNINGS!!!: semi-not healthy relationship, alcohol abuse, investment to lovers, sugar daddy/baby, semi-age gap (21-28?), a

Notes: Life lesson learned. Never listen to Mitski or Lana Del Rey when having thoughts about Lewis Nixon being your sugar daddy? Why you may ask? Because it will destroy you. This request was so fun to do, thank you op! I haven't written for Nixon before, so I apologize if he's a little too OOC. Also warning, this is defiantly not the most healthiest relationship, and I realize that. But they try to make it work. Also while writing this, I listened to @web-gott's lewis Nixon playlist and all of her playlists r GREAT BUT THAT DESTROYED ME. great job ily. anyways enough rambles! enjoy!

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @now-im-a-belieber @50svibes @ricksmorty @pennyllanne @ask-you-what-sir @web-gott

Masterlist | Send In A Prompt!

“You want me to be you’re what?”

Nearly spitting out drinks, Vat 69 mixed with vodka (A Nixon classic). It was quite a bizarre offer. Maybe Lewis had drunk too much, which was a common habit. But you made eye contact with him and he had a shit eating grin on your face. You let out an awkward laugh, and he followed suit.

You had been Lewis’s assistant operations officer since Caretan, there with him through a demotion, a divorice, and all of the other wonderful things that happened in his life. Not only was he your boss, but someone you confided in. He would confine in you, you would confide in him with stolen alcohol-it was a perfect example of mutualism. It’s as if you were his therapist at first, then a friend, and then a friend with benefits. Everything was kept under wraps, of course, for both of you to honor your diginites. Besides, you wouldn't wanna tarnish Lewis’s relationship with your father-considering that he was his boss, a Major general for the 101rst Airborne Division.

“A confidante. Companion. Confrère.” Nixon explained as he poured more vodka into your empty cup, which was not a good sign, “Miss Nixon won’t leave her baby boy alone. If I show her I have someone on my arm, she’ll shut up.”

“So let me get this straight. I go back home with you to New York, attend a party with you, be your arm candy, and you pay me?” You summarized his point, swimming the drink in your hands.

“Money, gifts, whatever you want, I can give you,” Lewis promised. He leaned against the railing as you looked at him. Your elbows grazed against each other. Resting your chin on your palm, you went deep into this arrangement.

The war had ended in The Pacific, so you could finally go home. As much as you were excited to leave and finally get back home, you’d miss Nixon. Sure, you’d be in Bronxville and he’d be Manhattan, only a train ride apart. Yes, he was a total asshole, but he was your asshole. The two of you had been together through thick and thin. Your parents would never approve of an alcoholic divorcee, but there was something inside of him that made you fill up with nervous excitement.

You could hear your mother’s voice, scolding you about the type of man Lewis was. Maybe he was a little too old, a little too broken, and a little too much for you, but that’s what attracted you to him. Over time, you learned that you and Nixon had much more in common. Both of you wanted to get away from your families. Hell, Nixon was paying for your college tuition at Sarah Lawenrece and when he had a weekend pass into Paris, you would come. For “work purposes”, but in all honesty it was for fine dining in Paris, shopping for the finest things in Champs-Élysées with Nixon, arm in arm wrapped under your finley manicured finger, and learning more about Miss Nixon’s best boy.

It was hard to let go of that. Everything he had done for you, and yet you were just friends with benefits. Still, after all you have gone through. It frustrated you. But after his divorce, you wanted to support him. He had lost everything, and without Dick, he was probably more lonely and hurt than ever. You wanted to be his comfort besides Vat 69. This arrangement could be an opportunity for the both of you. Maybe it would be more than an arrangement, but something bigger than that.

Lewis nudged your elbow as he raised a thick eyebrow, “Well, whatta’ say?”

“I say, why the hell not?” You accepted the offer, and the two of you clinked your drinks together. “So would we call this an arrangement? Be the pretty thing on your shoulder and you give me pretty things? Just like in Paris?”

“Just like Paris.” He reassured you, patting your shoulder. Sitting on a bench, he patted the spot next to you with his arm stretched out. “Sit with me?”

“Why I’d be honored too, good sir!” You dramatically stated for a comedic effect, which earned a smile from Lewis as you sat down right next to him. Moving close, both of your thighs caressed with each other. He adjusted and moved his free arm around you, bringing you close to him. You responded by laying your head on his chest, along with one of your hands.

Lewis didn’t say much besides drinking more from his cup, which kept getting refilled and gouged in seconds. There was a cold silence that filled the air. You kept adjusting in his hold, craving for that attention that wasn’t crude jokes or touch, but it always flew over his head. As he got lost in what the hell he was going to when he was home and the alcohol that poured in his system, you laid on his chest, waiting for that kiss, even though you knew that it wasn’t happening.

You closed your eyes as you laid there, pretending that Lewis was more than an arrangement for you.

The thing was, Lewis wasn’t dumb. He knew that too, but he didn’t know how to put it in words, so he used what he knew who to use best-money and gifts. Just as you always did.

~

A month after you had set up the arrangement, the two of you returned home. He went back to Manhattan, you went to Boxnville to attend Sarah Lawernce. Two months later, the week before you’re to head off to see your family in Florida, Nixon finally chooses to call you. After he ignores all your calls, letters, everything-he finally chooses to be a man. It doesn’t even feel like a relationship, which is what you wanted it to be. All of the effort you have made has gone to waste. Lewis looks as if he wants to keep it in an arrangement.

Normally, you’d appreciate the cash and all the lavish gifts, but money didn’t buy happiness.

His offer was simple. The Nixons were throwing a party at the Tribeca Rooftop, and it was bound to be full of every socialite in the Tristate area. Lewis asked for you to accompany him for the weekend. Separate rooms if you wanted, all of the dinners paid for by him, in exchange he gets arm candy and you get all the money you need. You considered using it to pay for rent, but after all-Lew was paying for everything, despite there being ignored communication.

It was hard to pass, and you were frustrated. But despite it all, you took up the offer. It was better than being stuck with your parents.

Once you accepted the offer, Lewis drove his Buggati down to Bronxville to pick you. You lived in a cramped apartment with a bunch of other Journalism majors. Seeing him outside of the window, you opened your window and waved.

“Look at what the devil dragged in.” You spat with a smile.

Lewis looked up at you, wearing those damn aviators he got in Austria. They had also been the ones that you had picked up for him, so it must have been sentimental.

“There you are,” He said, leaning against his car, “You coming?”

“Give me a minute!” You called and closed your window. Grabbing your keys and bag, you walked out of your room and towards the exit, only to see all of the girls who lived in your apartment ushered, admiring whatever the hell Nixon was to you. A friend, a sugar daddy, you truly had no idea.

One of the girls turned her head back to you, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe, “So, you’re the lucky one?”

You looked at her, slipping your boots on and tying them, “For?”

“A weekend in the city with a man who’s got money. Fancy dinners, fancy things, almost anybody would want it,” She explained, a tint of jealousy in her voice, “Just don’t come back pregnant.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” You confirmed. Once you finished getting your coat on, you waved goodbye to your flatmates, who all begged for you to bring nice things back to you, and even a man for them. The thought you made it chuckle, since they were truly all naive to what it was really like to be treated as an investment.

Walking down the stairs, you were greeted by Lewis, slouched on the front of the car and upon seeing you, straightened up. He began to walk towards you, and so do you. For once, he had cleaned himself up and looked like he was taking care of himself. It took you by surprise when he pulled you into a one armed hug, wrapping around your neck. You met with his chest, taking in his expensive cologne.

“Hey,” He mumbled into your shoulder as he held you close. Maybe for warmth, you thought. “I missed you.”

The cold layer you had felt upon seeing Lewis again had suddenly melted away. Normally, he wasn’t so sentimental. He was sarcastic and witty, but this time-he was different. Kinder, softer, just a little sadder. You put a hand up his armpit, also holding him close.

“Guess I did too,” You responded back. Breaking from the hug, the two of you looked at each other. You chuckled to yourself, not really knowing how to fill the silence.

“I’m glad you took up the offer, by the way.” Nixon added on. It made you look up and shrug your shoulders.

“It’s not like I wanna see my family.” Your shoes moved around on the icy ground, swishing the ice to the side. You were happy to see him, but there was just something about Lewis that was always sad. The same could be said about you, but he looked exhausted. Drained, emotionally and physically.

“Yeah, me either. But you make it tolerable,” Lewis said as he took your bag out of your hands, putting it on the back seat. The two of you got into his car. Before he started the car, Lewis threw a velvet case at you. You were taken by surprise and looked at him.

“Open it,” Lewis nudged his head.

Puzzled, you carefully opened the case and smiled. It was the Willsonite sunglasses, the tinted tortoise shell ones you had seen in Austria when roaming the streets with Lewis.

“It’s what all the girls in the city wear,” Lewis explained. He had picked out his gift with precision and care. Normally, all the girls would buy sunglasses for cheap at a stand at the beach, but hell-you were with the Lewis Nixon after all.

You put on the sunglasses and turned to Lewis, the glasses gently sliding down the bridge of your nose. “Is this your apology for neglecting me?”

Lewis leaned back, looking regretful. “I sent money, I sent the Mademoiselle perfume every month, I’m taking care of you-”

“That’s not what I want. I don’t-” You let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of your nose. It was easy to get angry, but you contained yourself, trying to hide your anger. “I love the gifts, but I want one thing. You. I want to actually spend time with you.” You bit your lip, and the only reason you were going to say it was to keep Lewis, “I’m supposed to be your arm candy, aren’t I?”

“You’re more than arm-candy to me, y/n. I enjoy your company. You’re a great kid.” Lewis began to explain his case. His sunglasses fell down his face, revealing the eyebags, “I didn’t want you to know that I went to rehab.”

“What do you mean? That’s all I wanted for you.”

“I know-it’s just. It wasn’t pretty, and you’ve got a lot going through you. I didn’t wanna drag you down with me.”

Guilt tugged at your head. The last thing you wanted to do was make Lew feel guilty. The only way the arrangement was going to work is if Lewis got the help he needed. He repressed his problems, and you were stubborn and weren’t going down with a fight.

“Lew,” You cooed as you put your hand on his. He looked at you as you inhaled and exhaled, “I don’t give a shit about whether it was pretty or not. I’m just glad you’re getting help. Take the worry off of my back. I care, y’know.”

Lewis put his hand on top of yours and his dark eyes connected with yours. He looked deep into your soul as you sat there, a smile on your face. It was your motto to just sit and act pretty. It was backwards, but If it was for Lewis, then it had to work.

“You make everyday worth living.”

You were unable to respond, frozen. The ice barrier that you surround yourself with had melted away. The one thing in your mind was a kiss. It seemed appropriate. As you began to slowly lean forward, not to scare him away, Lewis removed his hands and put them on the wheel as he began to back out of the parking lot. You sat there, your hands once we’re Lewis rested.

“Let’s have a good weekend, okay?” Lewis says, and you clench your hands together. Putting on a smile, you put on the facade of the arm candy. It’s all a part of the game.

“I’d like that a lot,” You commented and moved towards the window. Putting your sunglasses back on, it earned a smile from Lewis as he drove the car. Now both you matched.

“I like those on a lot,” He complemented, “They bring out the shape in your face.”

You moved them down, winking at him. “My oh my. Someone’s coquettish today.”

The two of you chuckled as you drove down the road. As you merged onto the highway and saw the traffic, you made a polite request.

“Can we go down the west side highway instead of the FDR please? It gets down to Tribeca faster.”

“Sure,” Lewis said, his hand resting on the wheel. “Anything for little miss/mister y/n.”

You leaned against the window and smiled to yourself. You should’ve been happy, you had everything you ever wanted.

But the one thing-Lewis’s love.

~

Lewis’s apartment in Tribeca was wonderful, located on the top floor of the most expensive building in the city with glorious paintings, velvet chair, and a built-in fireplace and bar. For such a large place, it was empty, all besides his Daschuand puppy named Pepper. He got the dog since he felt lonely, but made your heart twitch. He let you choose whatever room you wanted, despite the look in his eyes. So, you choose to sleep with him in the master bedroom.

That night, you expected Lewis would want to have sex, but he wasn’t in the mood. Normally, that’s what it was. Fucking and money. But Lewis had changed. He just felt you close in bed, and the two of you walked about mundane things. Pepper, of course, slept in the bed since she was Nixon’s little girl. You fell asleep in his arms, and enjoyed the change of the pace.

The next morning, Lewis took you down to a restaurant on the water. When ordering drinks, he asked for a bloody mary-virgin. You ordered a mimosa-virgin as well.

“You realize that’s just orange juice, right?” Lewis commented as you leaned over the table.

“And you’re drinking raw tomato juice,” You snarked back, which made Lewis smirk. You saw the change in him from yesterday and today. So, you decided to question further. “So, did you quit?”

“Trying. Whenever I think of doing it, I think of you, throwing out every single bottle in my cabinet and threatening to leave me. And I don’t want that, so go figure.”

Under the table, Lewis’s legs crossed and held the ankle of your foot. You felt your cheeks grow pink, grasping onto the napkin on your nap.

“Why me by the way? Think about it. You’re a hermit socialite, I’m a college student. Those two don’t click well together,” You itched the back of your neck.

Lewis looked at you, his leg itching up your ankle. He thought you were joking as he furrowed his thick eyebrows. He stopped, straightening his posture. “Well you, my dear, are someone that isn’t easy to forget. I like making you happy. Also, who else would be paying your rent and tuition?”

“Myself.”

“Waste of money.” Lewis threw his hand up to shrug off the matter, “Where’s the fun in that?”

The waiter came over and put your drinks down. Lewis gave the waiter a thank you as you laughed to yourself. He was really good at playing his role.

“Y’know, you’re good at this stuff. The whole sugar daddy thing,” You let out a snort, taking a sip at your drink.

“I like making others happy. That’s what money does. Not for yourself, but others. When I take you shopping and I see your eyes light up, that’s what makes me happy,” Lewis acknowledged. The two of you looked at eachother. Not in that joking way, but it was romantic. Sweet. He loved to see you happy, and you loved to see him sober. It worked.

“Also, wherever you wanna go today, I’ll take you. But I do have one rule.”

“And what is it?”

“We stop at Lord and Taylors. I have another surprise in store.”

~

The surprise in store turned out to be an outfit for the Nixon’s party. It was nothing too flashy, but regal enough to make you feel like you were out of a fairytale. His goal was to make you the belle of the ball, and he never failed to under the assignment.

Nixon's party was what you expected it to be. Awkwardly meeting Lewis’s parents and his mother giving you a death glare, seeing the dark haired solicates drink, a jazz band, and the best part of the party-Blanche. She was the only one besides Nixon without a stick up her ass. Most of the party you and Nixon were arm in arm. You would occasionally lean against him, yearnin for his attention, but he’d be too busy with the supply of Vat 69.

You had that feeling in your gut, and it wasn’t a good one. It made you sick, anxious, nervous-all around horrible. The more he drank, the more the pit in your stomach would drop. So you went outside onto the patio to catch some fresh air, to be alone and stroll around. Hell, you were even wearing Nixon’s jacket and clutching to it like a child to it’s comfort blanket.

Strolling across the patio and watching the skyline, your moments of peace were interrupted by the distant yellings coming from a room with an open door. You walked down the line, realizing that the voice was Nixon’s.

“An escort at this party? Lewis, you usually disappoint me, but this is unacceptable!” An older gentleman cried, setting down his scotch.

“Do you see the way they were dressed! What a vixen…” A woman cried, who you presumed to be Miss Nixon herself.

“There is nothing like that. They chose to come-”

“Stop lying to yourself. Someone of that age and you, someone with money, is a recipe for disaster. How much do you pay them to accompany you?”

The words kept breaking your heart. You leaned against the window, as fishguard as you were, listening to every single world.

Under pressure, Lewis threw his hands up, “Fine. You know what? You’re right. I pay for what y/n wants. To make them happy and for them to accompany me. They are nothing more than an investment to me.”

Those words cut like ice, like a bullet to the heart. A hand wrapped around your mouth as he pushed away and began to walk away, unable to listen to another word. An investment! How pathetic you felt to think that after all this time, everything you had been through together, everything he had brought you was all for nothing. Just like you had been told, Nixon was using you for your youth or as a way to cope with his many divorces.

Naturally, you would have felt like running out of the place and getting on the next train to Bronoxville, never seeing Nixon again. But there was anger in your heart that burned brighter than any fire you had seen. The ice surrounded your heart once more. It was a party, after all. And you didn’t want to leave without leaving a mark. After all, you 're a vixen.

Long story short, you stormed back into the party and met another young soilciate. Typical asshole with too much money and his way paid into an Ivy League. You didn’t even catch his name as the two of you conversed, and he kept the alcohol pouring. The two of you sat on a couch, and he eventually cozied up to you, wrapping an arm to pull you close. Just as he was on the topic of bringing you to Montauk to the summer, Nixon, of course, had come by.

“Hey, smartass. What the hell are you doing?” Nixon spat, the alcohol evident in his voice.

Smartass was now his name, and you couldn’t even remember it. Smartness looked up at Nixon, shrugging, “Talking to this pretty little thing. Why don’t you go back to drinking and ruining your family name?”

That comment was enough to make Nixon throw a punch, once again bring shame to his family, and get the two of you kicked out of the party. Lewis tried to talk to you, but you ignored every word he said until you reached the apartment.

“What is your problem?” Nixon asked, closing the apartment door. You threw off his jacket, throwing it onto the ledge of the loveseat.

You let out a snort at his unbelievable behavior. He acted as if he did nothing wrong.

“Are you serious? What is your problem!” You hissed back, “You can’t control yourself in drinking, let alone with me hanging out with other men. Face it, you’re just some spoiled , jealous, alcoholic.”

Lewis ignored all of those other comments and chose to focus on the most petty of them. “I’m not jealous!”

“Ha! You clearly are!” You quickly quipped back, walking towards him as he pointed your finger at his chest. “Look at you! Getting all angry, throwing punches. Just for a little investment! After all, I’m just what you use when you need a distraction from all of your other life problems. Just like all of your failed marriages.”

Your eyes began to feel watery and you spun around, biting your lip as he attempted to hold it together. This hurts more than you wanted it to, and no matter what you did, the waterworks wouldn’t stop.

Despite being drunk, Lewis could sense what he did was wrong, and he fucked up-bad. He was drunk, frustrated, and had no control of what he was doing.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean that.”

“Like I mean anything to you,” You sniffled, wrapping your arms around yourself, “The only reason I came was because I wanted...something more than an arrangement. I, fuck-love you, damnit.”

There was a silence in the room, and you felt cold. Goosebumps trailed all over your body as you bit your lip to contain your sobs. Suddenly, a pair of arms held your shoulders and turned around. Knowing it was Nixon, you wanted to punch him, but your head fell into his chest as you let out a long sigh.

He rested his head in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you close to his warm body.

““I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that but yeah, I love you too.” Nixon said into your hair, drawing circles into your back. “How mad would you be if I kissed you?”

“Absouetly fucking furious.” You tilted your head up as Nixon grabbed your chin, and your lips collided. It was a beautiful and messy lip with lounges smearing against each other. The messier it got, the more passionate it was. Eventually, the kiss calmed into a fiery disaster into a slow moving dance. Through the kisses, you let out a moan, which made Nixon’s hand go lower down your back. You separated from the kiss to catch some air.

“Why’d you stop, my dear?”

You playfully slapped his chest, “You’re lucky you’re hot. Can we go to bed, please?”

The older man swooped you and carried you to bed, treating you like the royalty you were. Once you were placed in bed with Penny by your side, Lewis crawled in next to you, holding you close.

“That’s why I asked you to come, y’know. I wanted to tell you, but I thought you’d say no.”

“For someone so smart, you don’t pick up on cues. Lewis Nixon, I love you, but you’re an idiot sometimes.”

“I’m your idiot, dollface.” Nixon smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. You felt his body weight onto you as you patted his shoulder, giggling.

“Have you ever thought about how much worse our lives would be without each other?”

Lewis pressed little kisses into your hair before stopping his kissing parade to stare at you. He moved the bangs from your face, letting his hand rest on your skin. “The world could be on fire and I'd still be happy as long as I'm with you.”

Once again, Lewis brought you close and the two of you made passionate love. It wasn’t out of frustration or anger or a distraction, but it was raw, genuine, and emotional. It was all you ever asked.

~

A patterned knock on the door prompted you to stop unpacking the books from your book and to call, “Come in!”

Turning around, you saw Lewis walk in, along with Penny, who was scrambling in on her tiny feet.

“Well look at what the cat dragged in.” You smirked, and Lewis threw his arms up. He held a photo in his hand. You returned to putting the last of your textbooks on your desk, gently patting them down.

“How’s the unpacking going?” Lewis asked as he picked up Penny, who was squirming to attack your face with kisses. You walked over and gave both Penny and Lewis a quick peck. You admired your brand new Burkburnett Desk with Hutch. Photos, memorabilia from Europe, books, and pencils decorated your desk for school.

“Good. Turns out, living in a penthouse is a thousand times better than being a dormitory.” You said, leaning your shoulder against Lew’s as you played with Penny’s floppy ears. After some decision, Lewis had made your relationship official, but to both of your parents distaste. Your parents thought Lewis was a creep, his parents thought you were vixens. As Lewis said, the thanksgiving we're going to be interesting. So Lewis decided that you should move in with him, which you didn’t reject. Tribeca wasn’t that far from Bronoxville.

“Good girl/boy. I’m glad you already like it here.” Lewis cooed into your ear, placing a tender peck. “I got an addition for your desk.”

Lewis pulled the photo and showed you. A smile appeared on your face as you took the beautiful frame. It was a black and white photo of you and Lewis, having dinner on top of the Refinery Rooftop. Both of you had your hands together on the table, smiling as the sun set in the sky. Despite there being no colors, it was a breathtaking photo.

“I know just where to put this.” You breathed, walking towards your deck. Right next to your light and glasses was where the photo went. Next to it, a photo of Lew holding a two week old Pepper, a gift from Blanche. More like Blackmail according to Nixon, but you didn’t care. “There. Perfect. Now I’m all moved in.”

Lew snuck up behind you, snaking his hands around your waist as he rested his head on your shoulder. You leaned back with a subtle smile, putting one of your hands on his own.

“Since you’re here to stay, I was thinking of dining in tonight. Blanche’s coming over too.”

“She is?” You hummed.

“Yup. I Want to see the new place, since you came in and cleaned it up.” Lewis mumbled, “How does that sound?”

“That sounds great. Just peachy, Lew.”

You and Lewis fell in love during the war. You were there for eachother in your worst moments and pulled each other up when you both needed it most. But nothing is ever easy in life. You fight. It’s rough. You fight, breakup, kiss, and makeup. With Lewis’s recovery and your family disowning you, the path down the road won’t be easy. You know that you and Lew will face thousands of hardships, but it’s ok. You have each other, and it’s not perfect at all. But it works, and that’s all that matters.

[tabloidtoc]

Globe, November 9

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Prince Andrew fails lie detector -- new crisis rocks the palace 

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- Bruno Toniolo shirtless, Heidi Pratt at a pumpkin patch in L.A., Jacqueline Bisset catches some rays in L.A. 

Page 3: Larry David leaves an L.A. office, Ellen Pompeo, Pete Wentz 

Page 4: Kathie Lee Gifford is talking to NBC bigwigs about coming back to Today and they’re hot over the idea but Hoda Kotb is not pleased and Jenna Bush Hager is feeling threatened because Jenna never really grabbed the audience like Kathie Lee did, Martha Stewart and Gwyneth Paltrow are heading into the holidays trash-talking each other even more than usual and their pals have nowhere to hide -- they’re snippier than ever and can’t get through the week without saying something crass but the trouble is they have the same friends and they use some of the same chefs and caterers and crew -- all their friends in the Hamptons including the Seinfelds and Beyonce and Jay-Z and Billy Joel and Christie Brinkley and Rachael Ray are trying to keep out of it but it’s impossible because Martha and Gwyneth are both screaming for loyalty 

Page 5: Legal hotshot and writer Jeffrey Toobin has been shelved by the New Yorker magazine for showing off his willie to co-workers during a Zoom conference call -- witnesses say Toobin was masturbating but he insists it was a blooper

Page 6: Dolly Parton was so lovestruck when she met Elvis Presley that she nearly chucked her marriage and career to shack up with Elvis -- Dolly is ready to tell all about Elvis after decades of protecting her husband Carl Dean and Elvis’ only child Lisa Marie Presley -- Dolly was in her late 20s and Elvis was in his late 30s when they had their sizzling encounter where she got dolled up to meet Elvis in a Nashville office and discuss working together and he wanted to do a duet but she didn’t trust herself to work with him and she didn’t even let Elvis do a cover of her song I Will Always Love You -- even though Dolly didn’t actually cheat on Carl she sure was tempted and she’s felt guilty about it ever since 

Page 8: Just two weeks after splitting with his wife of 14 years former Home Improvement kid Zachery Ty Bryan was arrested and jailed on charges of trying to strangle a terrified galpal -- after a night of partying where he was photographed surrounded by four gals with an iced bottle of vodka at the table Zachery reportedly got into a heated clash with his galpal and she claims Zachery grabbed her by the throat and squeezed then tried to snatch her phone when she attempted to call 911 so she ran to a neighbor’s home where she hid while cops were called 

Page 9: Distressed Kelly Clarkson and her two toddlers are in therapy to help cope with the anguish brought on by her divorce from Brandon Blackstock -- the talk show host is especially struggling because the split is playing out so publicly and the kids are seeing things about their mom on TV and she feels immense guilt about the divorce but knows it was the best decision because she wasn’t happy married to Brandon though she did try but staying in a marriage just for the kids wasn’t an option for her -- Kelly was deeply wounded when her father-in-law Narvel Blackstock’s management company recently sued her for $1.4 million in alleged unpaid commissions but she’s speaking with her ex privately in an effort to resolve the issue out of court but Kelly suspects he’s using it as a bargaining chip for a bigger settlement and also feels he’s using the kids against her as a weapon 

Page 10: Showbiz legend Michelle Phillips has become a shut-in who sits home alone tippling wine while watching movies on TV and listening to her hits from The Mamas & the Papas where she is the last surviving member of the band -- she’s sad the rest are all gone  and she’ll put on a record and sit in the dark; she misses them and so many other people -- she’s become a shut-in due to the pandemic and can’t bear for people to see her so old and haggard and overweight and all those years of partying have done their damage to her once-beautiful face -- she also hasn’t been able to see her young grandson and she’s grieving the loss of her longtime lover who died in 2017 

Page 11: Baywatch hunk Jeremy Jackson’s cover girl ex-wife has been found homeless wandering California’s mean streets in worn and shabby clothes -- lost for two years Loni Willison is now virtually unrecognizable with missing teeth and her long blond tresses cropped short -- she was found pushing a grocery cart filled with her battered possessions in Venice -- despite her tragic situation she insists she’d doing fine and doesn’t want help despite reportedly having drug and mental health issues 

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- Rita Ora in a see-through frock (picture), Lily James got caught brazenly canoodling with the very much married Dominic West who plays her father in the BBC miniseries The Pursuit of Love, just weeks after Cardi B filed to dissolve her marriage to Offset she’s put the split on hold and all it took was Offset to spend bucks on a heart-tugging Sunset Strip billboard and a Rolls-Royce and a Hermes Birkin bag, Kate Hudson’s getting loose-lipped about gross snotty smooches with her leading man Matthew McConaughey 

Page 13: Vinny Guadagnino eating in Beverly Hills (picture), Kaitlyn Bristowe has a puffy trout pout (picture), Shia LaBeouf doesn’t let an apparent injury keep him from getting out and about in Pasadena (picture), Alanis Morissette says the fame that came with her 1995 revenge song You Oughta Know wasn’t so sweet but instead was an isolating experience 

Page 14: Nicole Kidman is starring opposite Hugh Grant in the thriller series The Undoing but she really wanted to plays Hugh’s love interest in Notting Hill except she wasn’t well-known enough, Reba McEntire has landed herself a brand new TV show which is a modernized Fried Green Tomatoes drama series in which she’ll play the present-day Idgie Threadgoode, Fashion Verdict -- Regina King 8/10, Isabelle Huppert 2/10, Queen Maxima 5/10, Tracee Ellis Ross 9/10, Cher 4/10 

Page 16: How John F. Kennedy stole the White House from Richard Nixon -- Chicago mob rigged the 1960 vote and cheated Nixon out of the presidency 

Page 19: True Crime 

Page 21: Parkinson’s patient Alan Alda is refusing to slow down at age 84 and friends fear the fragile M*A*S*H legend is headed for a devastating health crisis and he’s busier now than he ever was even during his sitcom days and he bravely says he lives with it by staying active but medication can only do so much and his friends and family including wife Arlene are worried he’s pushing himself too hard, teary-eyed Ringo Starr confesses his last conversation with dying Beatles bandmate George Harrison was heartbreaking and unforgettable -- Ringo wanted to stay with George until the end but his daughter Lee had been diagnosed with a brain tumor and Ringo had to rush to Boston to see her and when Ringo told George he had to go to Boston George said D’ya want me to come wit’ ya? so even on his death bed George made his best buddy smile while both faced unspeakable grief 

Page 22: 10 Things You Don’t Know About S. Epatha Merkerson, Today show host Hoda Kotb reveals Frank Sinatra Jr. was the show’s worst guest because he clammed up instead of touting a book about his famous dad in 2015, Khloe Kardashian confesses she once worked as Nicole Richie’s personal assistant because she just needed a job and they went to school together -- Nicole’s reality career crashed in 2007 which was the same year Khloe’s series started

Page 24: Cover Story -- Disgraced Prince Andrew has flunked a lie detector test on his close relationship with murdered American pedophile Jeffrey Epstein and now the rogue royal insists he’ll never cooperate with the FBI for fear his testimony will land him behind bars but Queen Elizabeth’s favorite son has his back against the wall as new evidence surfaces on both sides of the Atlantic -- Andrew is terrified newly released secret testimony from Epstein’s accused madam Ghislaine Maxwell is just the tip of the iceberg of what she’s prepared to reveal and Maxwell’s revelations detailing her twisted sex life come on the heels of an explosive new British book accusing Andrew of attending debauched events with Epstein where teenage girls were parading around topless -- even though friends close to Andrew say he did nothing wrong and has no reason to fear the prince may not have a choice about spilling his guts because the fed-up royal family is threatening to cut off the cash-strapped rogue unless he plays ball 

Page 25: Prince Andrew has been banished from the gift shop at his mother’s Balmoral Castle -- tourists can still purchase postcards her Her Majesty’s kids Prince Charles and Princess Anne and Prince Edward but Prince Andrew has disappeared which is a sure sign that Andrew is in the doghouse since items featuring Elizabeth’s beloved corgis are still up for sale 

Page 26: Health Report 

Page 27: Dirtiest places on planes exposed 

Page 30: Serial sleaze Matt Lauer’s ready to pop the question to girlfriend Shamin Abas over the holidays and he hopes for a brighter future with her a year after his 20-year marriage to Annette Roque ended in divorce -- Matt showers Shamin her with gifts and wants to buy a house on the East Coast where they can make new memories and Matt’s hinted he’s already bought the ring and plans to propose by New Year’s and he hopes to have a celeb-studded wedding at their new home, Kathleen Turner will be back at Michael Douglas’ throat as his acid ex in The Kominsky Method to fill the hole left by Alan Arkin who abruptly pulled out of the third and final season of the show

Page 35: Matthew McConaughey’s father predicted he’d die while making love to his wife and he did, desperate to turn back time Marie Osmond is going whole hog on a head-to-toe makeover -- Marie is no stranger to cosmetic fixes and she is considering a slew of procedures to get a new look that’ll knock ‘em out including everything from Botox and fillers to face-lift to boob job and lipo-sculpting to enhance her waistline -- the makeover is motivated by revenge because she’s bitter over recently being pushed off her co-host gig on The Talk and now she’s counting on a younger look to land her a plum new TV gig 

Page 38: Real Life Monsters 

Page 39: Kris Jenner blames social media for ending the 14-year run of Keeping Up with the Kardashians because when the show started there was no Instagram or Snapchat or other social media platforms but now she gripes that now there are so many the viewer doesn’t have to wait three or four months to see an episode but instead information spreads online in real time, Phil Collins’ ex-wife has traded him in for a 31-year-old guitarist who never managed to make much noise in the music industry -- Phil was furious when he heard Orianne Cevey married Tom Bates in Las Vegas, Black Panther star Chadwick Boseman died without a will according to his widow -- Taylor Simone Ledward filed a probate case in L.A. asking a judge to name her administrator of Boseman’s estimated $938,500 estate with limited authority

Page 44: Straight Talk -- Bruce Willis and Demi Moore’s daughter Rumer Willis claims posing for raunchy bondage shots proves she’s a liberated woman free from sexual stereotypes but it’s not that simple 

Page 45: Jeff Bridges is battling non-Hodgkin lymphoma which is a rampaging cancer that often spreads through the body to the liver and bone marrow and lungs -- while the cancer can be deadly experts say the five-year survival rate is 73 percent 

[marlacrane]

『COURTNEY EATON ❙ CIS FEMALE』 ⟿ looks like MARLA CRANE is here for HER JUNIOR year as a JOURNALISM student. she is 22 years old & known to be inventive, dogged, heedless & blunt. They’re living in GORHAM, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ mia. 23. pt. she/her.

[without me by eminem plays muffled from the next room as marla wanders thru the door w a mickey of vodka in her left hand and the communist manifesto in her right]

tws for drug use, mental illness

history

she has a happy childhood in a seattle suburb. she’s the youngest of two girls, and even though her mom works all the time, and her dad’s overseas, everything’s fine. until marla gets to second grade, which she hates, gets into a fight with a boy, and nearly bites his finger off. this time she gets off with a warning. then, later that week, said boy and her are working on this paper maché duck together, and the teacher's keeping an eye on them at first but has now dismissed them as totally getting along, and then the teacher glances at them again to find that they have vanished, and so have the art supplies. the two of them are found six hours later hiding in a park. they’ve been hanging out there all day, asking for a quarter from each unsuspecting parent or guardian they’ve seen. they’ve used this to buy as much food from the community centre vending machine as they can carry. their goal: wait until their parents are sleeping, steal the tent from marla’s backyard, and go live in the treehouse in his backyard. upon discovery, they’re both grounded for a month. marla is no longer allowed to read calvin and hobbes  ––  her mom is pretty sure it’s what inspired the escape attempt.

she and this boy, whose name is jasper, regroup once they’ve been ungrounded. jasper and her are both the sort of kids who bite their nails at the sign of a group project. their fight had been over who got to read the classroom’s only calvin and hobbes anthology. their initial truce had been based entirely around a mutual desire for treehouse living. now, they just want insurance. so they agree to partner up, always.

they’re bad influences on each other. apart, they’re both a little feral, sure, but they understand that certain things are not possible, and they avoid danger if they can help it. when they hang out, though, they egg each other on. jasper breaks his arm because marla dares him to climb the school; marla’s suspended after jasper dares her to pull the fire alarm; jasper and marla accidentally burn down a garden shed; jasper and marla scam five people out of their lunch money so they can go see a movie after school. (they pay them back a week later. they’re not total monsters. also, they were getting scared one of the kids was gonna tell on them).

jasper’s parents are moving. jasper’s moving with them, out to the country. marla hates it, but she steels herself. she can be independent. she’s nearly sixteen now, and it’s about time she started. but she’s going to miss him. he tells her that nothing’s going to change, which she tells him is bullshit. he takes this the wrong way, and they stop speaking to each other. this goes on for five months. marla’s lonely at first  ––  she doesn’t know how to talk to people who aren’t him. she starts dating this guy, and that opens things up a little bit. he introduces her to his friends, and suddenly she doesn’t feel as wild. she’s no longer a product of the outskirts.

one night she thinks fuck it, that’s enough silence. she sneaks out at one am, texting jasper to meet her halfway. she borrows her sister’s car. marla figures she practically knows how to drive. she’s done it a few times. and, to her credit, she makes it to where she and jasper are meeting. she also wraps the car around a pole. she emerges relatively unharmed, and she panics. jasper doesn’t show up. he texts to tell her he got caught trying to leave. she calls him an idiot. then she waits there, arms crossed, incapable of doing anything but dreading consequences, until it’s nearly morning. that’s when a cop drives by and the process of being in trouble begins. it’s a clusterfuck. this is when her sister stops speaking to her  ––  marla’s been on thin ice with her for a long time, but now it’s over. it isn’t so much that her sister wants to hold a grudge. it’s just finally too much. and marla gets it. for once, she doesn’t try and change things, or slip out of trouble. that doesn’t mean she doesn’t get into a number of shouting matches with her mom. her phone is taken away, as is all of her money, which goes toward buying her sister a new car. her laptop is sold in the name of the new car too. she can use the family computer if schoolwork absolutely demands internet access.

she hasn’t heard from jasper in a long time. her now ex boyfriend is still sort of a friend, but not the kind she can hang out with. there was one girl she really got along with at their school, but they made out at a party and the next day the girl wouldn’t really look her in the eyes. she turns seventeen, the birthday celebrated more or less alone, and does a little stint in juvie for keying a teacher’s car. she then spends a year at a community college, followed by radcliffe. she picks radcliffe because she’s accepted, and because it’s far from home. being at home fills her with this sick feeling now  ––  something went bad somewhere along the way, and she’s pretty sure it was her that made the wrong turn at the crossroads. not her mom, not jasper, not anyone else that had power over her life. and she won’t reach out to her friend, or to her sister, because that would mean admitting she cares more than they do.

she sort of wishes she could go back to being a careful person. she wants to understand boundaries. she also wants her life to have a purpose, and she likes writing, and she’s always loved nancy drew, but being a detective would’ve meant being a cop and she'd genuinely rather die, so she’s gone for journalism. she’s not loving the university experience, but it’s better than before, and it’s provided a lot of distractions that she’s grateful for.

headcanons / personality :

she can be a little abrasive.

she smokes weed whenever she can afford it, because if she doesn’t she tends toward feeling depressed and highly uninspired. she carries this apathy with her, and then every once in a while she’ll snap, and either get a lot better or a lot worse. klonopin is her best friend now.

she’s 100% a leftist and the way to her heart at this point is through communism memes. she’s slowly but surely making her way through the works of karl marx. she’d probably be done by now, but she keeps reading romance novels instead. (this is also a secret. she reads them on her phone and deletes them the moment she’s done so that nobody can know).

she lives to pirate movies, but claims that the only movie she’s ever seen is showgirls. this is because she dated a film major during her first year of college and found him so insufferable that she’s decided nobody can ever know she watches movies. she gets that he was just a jackass, and she shouldn’t judge anyone by their major, and yet................ that said, she has a secret letterboxd account (when she made it, she found her ex’s account and blocked him, just in case) and on it there’s a list of films in which richard nixon gets punched in the face.

deep down she’s actually very sentimental and sensitive, which is why she worked so hard to Not Be That growing up. she does her very best to never show that side of herself  ––  if someone sees her crying she’s just gotta kill them ! those are the rules. and after a while it got more and more difficult to actually access that side of herself. when she cries, it’s an Event.

she’s always broke. she’s also somehow always capable of scraping together exactly enough money to go out.

she knows that if jasper contacted her now, even after the years of radio silence, she’d do anything for him. they’re still friends, even if that friendship only exists in her memories. she realizes she could text him, but that would violate her strict double texting rules. and she’s afraid to.

she definitely makes bad decisions while drunk. like, all the time. speaking of which, she’s up for anything ! wanna attempt to summon a demon at 3 am? she’s ur girl ! wanna break into someone’s house and move all of the furniture over by about an inch before stealing away into the night? she’s already there !

she’s actually a good listener, which is one of the only positive traits she credits herself with. that, and creativity.

she’s a taurus but like . there is almost definitely some pisces / scorpio / sagittarius on her chart

she can play piano. she’s actually pretty good at it. or she was, back when she had access to pianos.

she really really really really really really wants a dog but there is no way in hell she can afford one

she’s bisexual

wanted connections :

(i mean. i will love anything, but....)

exes  –  whether they dated for a while or just hooked up once or twice tbh

enemies  –  these are easy because marla often does not consider consequences, so she could easily have done smth :/ to ur muse

friends  –  pls ! she needs them

unrequited crush  –  on her part, probably ? maybe they’re friends and she doesn’t wanna fuck that up but she’s starting to care about them in a different way. I Love Repression. what a good trope.

if anyone’s down for spontaneous tattoos............ she loves those (@chase hi, hello, come here)

a good influence would be fantastic

anyone else from seattle / the seattle area who maybe knew her in passing

um i really want this

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WORK ETHIC AND ACQUISITION

Every one of you is working on a space that contains at least one has to make the software easy to use. The thing is, he'd know enough not to care what they thought. I, Ada have lost, while hacker languages C, Perl, Python, Smalltalk, Lisp. As with office space, the number of startups founded by business people who then went looking for hackers to create their own societies where intelligence is the most important skills founders need to learn.1 If you're designing a tool, for example, you can say later Oh yeah, we had to make search better, and I answered twenty, I could see them thinking that we didn't count for much. Compared to other industrialized countries the US is disorganized about routing people into careers. Which means it's doubly important to hire the best people.2 I wrote about earlier: the fatal pinch, but how clean the path to the finished program was.

So if you start a company.3 So please, get on with it.4 And most importantly, their status depends on how ambitious you feel. School is a strange one. And if teenagers respected adults more, adults also had more use for teenagers. I'm not saying that issues don't matter to voters. Partly because successful startups have lots of employees, so it is unfair to delay. But teachers like him were individuals swimming upstream. All I can say is, try hard to do it as a business, rather than because they wanted to. It was really close, too. 6 each founder 250 12. Teenage kids used to have a deft touch.5

Even a company with 100 employees and one with 10,000, even if your group has only 10 people.6 Seed firms are like angels in that they invest exclusively in the earliest phase. The average MIT graduate wants to work at Google or Microsoft, because it's easier to sell at first, but mainly because the more founders you have, the worse disagreements you'll have. The founders are required to vest their shares over four years.7 Half the founders I talk to don't know whether they're default alive or default dead, but we're not willing to admit that to ourselves, because that's where smart people meet. And while they probably have bigger ambitions now, this alone brings them a billion dollars a year.8 Livable towns? They just need something to chase.9 The best way to explain how it all works is to follow the case of a hypothetical very fortunate startup as it shifts gears through successive rounds.

One of the reasons Jane Austen's novels are so good is that she read them out loud to your friends as something you'd written, you'll feel all too keenly what an imposition that kind of thing people don't plan, so you're more likely to get them in a society where it's ok to be overtly ambitious, and in fact can't be done by collaborators and design can't? Above all, they slow you down: instead of starting to ask too late whether you're default alive or default dead.10 We had office chairs so cheap that the arms all fell off.11 For example, many startups in America begin in places where it's not really legal to run a startup are prone to wicked cases of buyer's remorse. That's the main reason I wrote this. This is less the rule now, partly because the disasters of the twentieth century.12 The Selling of the President 1968, Nixon knew he had less charisma than Humphrey, and thus simply refused to debate him on TV.13 What struck me at the time, I would have seen that being smart was more important.14 And for many if not most startups, ours began with a core of fanatically devoted users, and all Evan and Joshua had to do it, and selling, say, the ages of eleven and seventeen. But beyond that they didn't want to be smart, and nothing brings people closer than a common enemy.15 They are doubly hosed: the general partners themselves are less able, and yet they have harder problems to solve, because the people I worked with were some of my best friends.

Occasionally startups go from seed funding direct to acquisition, however, and I feel as if I have by now learned to understand everything publishers mean to tell me about a book, and perhaps even move to the sort of backslapping extroverts one thinks of as typically American. Teenage apprentices in the Renaissance were working dogs. The advantage of raising money from friends and family is that they're easy to find. Hiring people is rarely the way to fix that. If there are seven or eight, disagreements can linger and harden into factions. C, Perl have won. So at the last dinner; it's more of a party. Morale is key in design. I didn't really grasp it at the time what we were practicing for. That's big company thinking.16 Their craziness is the craziness of the idle everywhere. The most important way to not spend money is by not hiring people.

The way to get rich from a startup is to run into intellectual property problems. Unless you're in a market where products are as undifferentiated as cigarettes or vodka or laundry detergent, spending a lot on brand advertising is a sign of breakage. So if you want to, but you have to do is other things.17 The restrictiveness of big company jobs is particularly hard on programmers, because the essence of programming is to build new things. I was persistent, but I don't believe it till you get the check. That's a problem, because looking down on the user, but you knew there would be no more Calvin Coolidges. It might be hard to find successful adults now who don't claim to have been cases of molecular bonding rather than nuclear fusion. Then you can gradually transform yourself from a consulting company, and that would probably be replaced, as if you couldn't get anything done unless there was someone with the corresponding job title. Nor does it harm you in the hope you'll be able to brag that he was an investor. They were helpful in negotiating deals, for example.

This pattern is repeated constantly in startup hubs. By accepting the term sheet, and then have to call them back to tell them you were just kidding, you are in big trouble. But I decided not to, because that's what it means is to have a deft touch. To a scientist, at least for programmers. I was learning so little that I wasn't even learning what the choices were, let alone negotiate the terms, so the deal fell through. Merely understanding the situation they're in should make it less painful. With the help of some part-time jobs they made it last 18 months. And in any case, many technical ideas do have political implications. But in fact that place was the perfect space for a startup at all, because if your sponsor goes out of business?

Notes

We didn't let him off, either as truth or heresy. Which is why, when I became an employer. You should probably start from the rule of law per se but from which Renaissance civilization radiated.

Bureaucrats manage to think of a handful of companies to be closing, not like soccer; you don't have to deliver these sentences as if having good intentions were enough to be when it was considered the most promising opportunities, it is. And yet if he were a first—e.

At first literature took a painfully long time I thought there wasn't, because it is very long: it has to grind. They want so much more attractive to investors, you can't easily get a false positive, this would probably be the fact that investment is a very noticeable change in how Stripe felt. As a friend with small children to consider how low this number could be made. That's a valid point.

Sheep act the way they have less money, then used a TV for a group to consider behaving the opposite way as part of a severe-looking little box with a cap. You're too early if it's not uncommon for startups is uninterruptability. That's very cheap, 1/10 success rate is 10%, moving to Monaco would give you term sheets.

If you want to lead. For similar reasons it might help to be at the end of the growth in wealth, the police in the narrowest sense. Most of the growth in wealth, and know the actual amount of time on schleps, and stir.

And for those interested in each type of proficiency test any apprentice might have. Many will consent to b rather than insufficient effort to see it in the beginning. The wave of the first duty of the incompetence of newspapers is that it's a departure from his family, that suits took over during a critical period. If you want to change.

Maybe markets will eventually get comfortable with potential earnings. If you weren't around then it's hard to make peace with Spain, and there didn't seem to be vigorously enforced. Their inexperience makes them overbuild: they'll create huge, analog brain state. When you fix one bug happens to compensate for another.

The empirical evidence suggests that if you like a ragged comb.

Currently we do. Though they are themselves typical users. If I paint someone's house, though I think in general.

In either case the money, buy beans in giant cans from discount stores. They assumed that their system can't be buying users; that's a pyramid scheme. As far as I know it didn't to undergraduates on the spot very easily. They can't estimate your minimum capital needs that precisely.

We wasted little time on is a way in which those considered more elegant consistently came out shorter perhaps after being macroexpanded or compiled. In sufficiently disordered times, even the flaws of big companies weren't plagued by internal inefficiencies, they'd be proportionately more effective, leaving the area around city hall a bleak wasteland, but they were more dependent on banks, who would have been doing so because otherwise competitors would take Abelson and Sussman's quote a step further. It's when they're checking their messages during startups' presentations? 92.

But an associate is not economic inequality. On their job listing page, they were just getting kids to be important ones. I can't predict which these will be, unchanging, but they get a patent is now the founder visa in a situation where they are not one of the things you're taught. And yet there is a trap set by evil companies for the same time.

Even though we made a lot of people, how little autonomy one would say we depend on closing a deal to move forward. Y Combinator. Buy an old-fashioned idea.

If you're expected to do that.

Your Brain, neurosurgeon Frank Vertosick recounts a conversation reaches a certain field, and you have to be vigorously enforced.

The meanings of these, and unleashed a swarm of cheap component suppliers on Apple hardware. Basically, the CIA runs a venture fund called In-Q-Tel that is largely true, because investing later would probably also a name. Of the two elsewhere, but they seem like I overstated the case of heirs, professors, politicians, and instead of reacting. Though we're happy to provide this service, and configure domain names etc.

A lot of companies to do that. More precisely, while they may end up reproducing some of those you should start if you don't have one. No one in its IRC channel: don't allow the same way a restaurant is constrained in b the second clause could include any possible startup, and Jews about.

[perfectirishgifts]

Here’s How The Biden Presidency Will Impact Markets, Climate And Energy

New Post has been published on https://perfectirishgifts.com/heres-how-the-biden-presidency-will-impact-markets-climate-and-energy/

Here’s How The Biden Presidency Will Impact Markets, Climate And Energy

Biden and Harris, Nov. 9, 2020.

Joe Biden and his transition team have not been shy about telegraphing an intention to kill coal, ban new oil drilling in federal lands and waters, and turn the regulatory screws once more on America’s most carbon-belching industries. In transitioning from intent to strategy, the Biden team has been evaluating a raft of policy initiatives designed to achieve their climate goals. 

Titans of industry should not be surprised by any of the game changers that are on the way. For more than a decade, a vast majority of the U.S. electorate has declared its tacit approval of policies ensuring massive reduction in greenhouse gas emissions. State governments from California to Texas have been leading the charge for renewable energy with mandates, carbon markets or subsidies. In many parts of the country, the feds will be catching up with the states.

Here’s what to expect.

If the goal is a major reduction in GHG emissions, the simple approach is best. Increase the price of carbon-intensive fuels with a carbon tax. Following Econ 101, consumers will shift demand to less expensive substitutes and reduce fossil fuel consumption. Carbon capture, use and sequestration—which would be rewarded under a carbon tax—will expand. Tax proceeds will be used to offset negative impacts to preserve employment. 

Social justice is not just a rhetorical consideration. Many are frightened that the energy transition will eliminate their livelihoods.  And government actions will be tempered by the necessity of change, weighed against the need to preserve energy supply chains for the economy and for national security.

The Biden administration will rejoin the Paris Agreement to demonstrate commitment. However, leadership is required. The Paris Agreement and earlier Kyoto Protocol have had no impact on the trends of both increasing carbon emissions and decreasing carbon intensity per unit of global GDP. The administration will likely implement the Climate Club plan of Nobel winner William Nordhaus in order to change the trajectories—reduce carbon emissions and greatly accelerate the decreasing carbon intensity per unit of GDP.  Under the Nordhaus plan, the U.S. would institute a domestic carbon pricing mechanism and then impose a tariff on goods from countries that did not follow suit.  The European Union is on track to implement a similar plan with a carbon border tax.

The Climate Club will also need to address issues concerning social justice. World energy use is increasing as energy poverty is eliminated. The global population is expected to grow by 3 billion by 2050 due to decreased mortality rates in developing nations, exacerbating the conflict between the growing demand for energy and the imperative to reduce GHG emissions.

Enlisting the major energy companies will not be difficult. They have been out in front of Congress and the last two administrations with their Oil and Gas Climate Initiative. They have lobbied for the certainty of a carbon tax since the days of the Waxman-Markey bill. Impose the carbon tax at the wellhead, the mine mouth or the port of entry for fossil fuels, and industry will get behind the administration.   Oil companies are important to the transition for several reasons. First, because they have the current cash flow, product distribution network and much of the technical expertise necessary to lead the transition. Some companies, such as BP, have announced a divestiture of oil and gas properties. Others, such as ExxonMobil XOM , are pursuing effective carbon capture, use and sequestration avenues.  The growth in green hydrogen will be driven by oil companies and major electric utilities. 

The “correct” amount for a carbon tax will be open to analysis and debate. Oil companies have anticipated an initial carbon price of $40 per metric ton of CO2. California’s Low Carbon Fuel Credits market is currently trading at $195 per metric ton of CO2. At a carbon tax of $100 per metric ton, U.S. consumers would pay an additional$0.89 per gallon of gasoline and $100 per 1,000 kWh for electricity generated exclusively from coal.

What would the carbon tax proceeds fund?

Congress and the administration should work to minimize the disruptive impacts of the carbon tax, in part by funding advanced research and development for increased agriculture/carbon reuse such as that underway at the Salk Institute, developments with synthetic photosynthesis, winter crop development and green hydrogen. The tax can fund rebates and investment credits for greater conservation in buildings and building materials.  Most importantly, the tax will fund rebates and investment credits for switching capital equipment to lower carbon fuel sources such as New York City’s garbage truck fleet, the nation’s fleet of heavy trucks, and farm equipment.

How will it be implemented?

For a carbon tax to be effective at changing consumer buying habits, the tax must be implemented at the source—the wellhead, the mine mouth, or the port-of-entry. The cost will flow through the economy without regard to who produces it or who consumes it. The cost will be incorporated into our daily lives. Consumers and producers will respond as less carbon intensive energy sources become relatively cheaper to use.

But, failing concerted action by Congress, the administration has the tool of the Clean Air Act to regulate emissions of CO2 and other greenhouse gases. Restrictions could be mandated but would certainly be more disruptive than providing economic carrots and sticks.

For the domestic oil and gas industry, the administration could return to President Eisenhower’s oil import quota or, alternatively, impose a significant tariff (more than $30 per barrel) on crude oil imported into the U.S. from countries other than Canada and Mexico.  Such import restrictions would necessarily raise the domestic price of crude oil. This higher price would speed development and sales of electric vehicles. It would also provide an economic boost to domestic oil producers, who will need the funds to reduce methane emissions and continue environmental remediation.  Further to this point, the revival of the domestic oil industry would increase GDP, send hundreds of thousands of people back to work, and return royalty and tax revenues to communities, schools, cities and states.  With respect to foreign policy, reduced dependence on foreign supplies will allow the U.S. to reduce the military umbrella over the Middle East oil producers.

A frackmatic policy

Banning hydraulic fracturing in oil and gas development would revive the coal industry and reverse the last 10 years of decreased carbon emissions in the U.S. and increase dependency on foreign supplies of crude oil.  For all the bluster about saving coal, coal production during the Trump administration has dropped by more than a third. The annual savings to consumers from lower natural gas prices is $195 billion per year. The problems? The Oklahoma Corporations Commission and the Texas Railroad Commission have stepped in to reduce and eliminate the earthquakes associated with the disposal wells for wastewater from fracking. Obama administration research and award-winning Yale research have shown no significant impact on groundwater hydrology from the practice of hydraulic fracturing.

Energy’s other major priorities

The nation’s electric grids are not homogenous. More than 3,000 entities work in concert each minute to provide power—all the more noticeable when a mishap in one state causes the lights to go out across many states. Grid reliability is necessary.  Of the currently available zero-carbon fuels, only nuclear provides reliable electricity. California demonstrated the folly of moving too quickly to wind and solar but recent actions by the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission and, in Texas, the Electric Reliability Council of Texas, which is not subject to FERC regulation, have removed obstacles to adding battery storage operations to the grid. It is important to note that battery storage contributes to lower carbon emissions by providing off peak accumulation of excess electricity generation from any source: nuclear, gas, coal and renewable resources. Providing investment incentives for merchant battery installations will hasten the retirement of fossil fuel plants that heretofore have been used for baseload and peaking.

Practical policy limitations, considerations and implications

For the sake of completeness, these points will also figure into the Biden administration’s climate and energy calculus.

·      Carbon use is becoming cost effective even without a carbon price, as companies bring products including carbon-negative vodka, carbon-negative hand sanitizer and other products to market.

·      Hydroelectric dams have interfered with the natural fisheries of the nation. Eliminating some dams will be beneficial for restoring these fisheries.

·      Battery production currently relies heavily on the mining of rare earths. While this is a recognized problem, little has been done to ameliorate the impact of ever increasing battery production. The promise of green hydrogen may be realized and become the disruptive technology that pushes lithium-ion batteries out of transportation.

·      Continue efforts to harden the grid against cyberattacks and Electromagnetic Pulse attacks.

·      Nuclear waste management remains a public policy conundrum.

Longer term implications

Policymakers today must be mindful of the second order impacts that will be felt years later—and the benefits of changing technologies.  President Nixon’s abandonment of the Eisenhower import quota in tandem with price controls imperiled U.S. national security and increased the nation’s dependence on OPEC. National security and ill-conceived price controls on natural gas led to the passage of the Power Plant and Industrial Fuel Use Act of 1978, which knowingly and directly pushed the nation into a multi-decade dependence on coal-fired electricity at the expense of the environment. 

Laws and regulations necessarily address the issues of the day. Climate has made tomorrow the issue of today.

From Energy in Perfectirishgifts

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[riessto]

“I’m not going to go after print media tonight because its illegal to attack an endangered species - buy newspapers!

There’s a ton of news right now. A lot is going on and we have all these 24-hour news networks and we could be covering everything. But instead we’re covering like 3 topics. Every hour its Trump, Russia, Hillary, and a panel of 4 people that remind you why you don’t go home for Thanksgiving - ‘MILK COMES FROM NUTS NOW ALL CUZ OF THE GAYS.’

You guys are obsessed with Trump. Did you use to date him? Because you pretend like you hate him, but I think you love him. I think what no one in this room wants to admit is that Trump has helped all of you. He couldn’t sell steaks or vodka or water or college or ties or Eric. But he has helped you. He’s helped you sell your papers and your books and your TV. You helped create this monster and now you’re profiting off of him. And if you’re going to profit off of Trump, you should at least give him some money because he doesn’t have any.”

-Michelle Wolf, April 28, 2018

“I think that the problem is the system is incentivized in all the wrong directions. And right now the system is incentived in the way a crack dealer is incentivized. Which is it can do tremendous damage but as long as people are buying crack, everything is good on his block. I really, I truly believe it is that corrosive and corrupt. When you have the presidents of networks saying Trump is good for business... Why would you kill the thing that’s great for business? 

Since then (the Nixon-Kennedy televised debate) an entire industry has risen up  as to how to manipulate and skew that medium to the advantage of the politicians and the powerful. And the industry, instead of creating a counterweight to that, have been subsumed by it. Now its a symbiosis. The media is no longer predator-prey, which is what I think should be the relationship. But a remora, attached underneath, hoping for crumbs to fall off of the shark.

What works for 24-hour networks? Here’s what you’d want it to be incentivized for: clarity. It is incentivized for what? Conflict. The voices that are amplified are the ones that are the most conflict-oriented, the most extreme. Those are the guys that get the air time.”

-Jon Stewart, May 9, 2016

[tysonthebitcher]

The time i got arrested in Florida

*Names have been changed When you picture getting arrested on spring break, you picture things like getting in a fight, having sex in public, getting too drunk, or better – all three. But this wasn't anything like that; the time I got arrested sums up my life. When I was 17, I got arrested on Spring Break in Florida. I don't even bring this up when people talk about getting arrested. It’s by no means a "bad ass" story. But when I do tell people I was arrested, they automatically want to know why.  This isn’t your cool and normal Spring Break “who outdrank who” story. This is a random and "uncool" arrest story. I don't even like to tell people. Honestly, I’m not sure why I’m telling you now…but fuck it In high school, I went on Spring Break with my friend, John. Because I was 17, it was one of those “high school” Spring Breaks. We’ve all been on these “all-inclusive vacations.” You know, the trips where you just go with your friend’s family because you are too broke, too irresponsible, and just slightly too underage for your parents to let you go anywhere by yourself. So this is the best you are going to get.  But hey, don’t let the details get in the way of the facts, you get to tell people you went somewhere. This was going to be the first time I was on my own: It was a huge deal for me. My parents always thought I was too "irresponsible" to go anywhere or do anything, let alone wipe my own ass, by myself.  I had gotten caught in a few minor fuck ups, but I was right at the tipping point where I was starting to gain their trust back and things could go one of two ways: I could be the son they’ve always wanted, or I could go with John and be a 17 year old on Spring Break.  It took a lot of convincing but, the choice was obvious. My parents ended up letting me go.I was going to be with John’s family…what could go wrong? . Well...actually a lot can go wrong. ​ When Spring Break rolled around, John, his parents, and I drove down to Navarre Beach, Florida. I had never even heard of the fuckin’ place, but it was Florida. How horrible can it be? Wrong. It’s more than slightly horrible. It might as well be located in Satan’s asshole, and renamed to Dante’s 10th Circle of Hell. Like all naïve high schoolers, we were expecting rivers of beer, and mountains of topless college chicks. Wrong again. Upon arrival, John and I instantly realize there is a reason we had never heard of this place. It is one of those near death retirement communities, where the only women you will see are wearing a one-piece and a foam golf visor. It was one of those quiet, dust-farter destinations for the old people who came to Florida for long walks on the beach, and to watch the sunset. Throughout the week, we did boring touristy shit with John’s parents, like visit museums and sight-see. I'll admit it wasn't bad. Then again, at this point in my life, shopping at a Walmart in a different state would have been fun for me. Prior to entering this hellish wasteland in sunny Florida, John and I got some irresponsibly awesome 21 year old to buy us liquor before we left. We hid the vodka in a couple of water bottles and smuggled it down with us. Even though the place sucked, we still were excited. Our standards were still low; getting drunk in someone's basement was still considered "new and fun.” Drinking in Florida was more than good enough for us. Throughout the week, we made sure to conserve and ration the gut-wrenching warm vodka. When nights rolled around, we took shots and wandered aimlessly around the deserted hellscape, looking for any sign of human life. The whole week we hadn’t seen anyone that hadn’t been born when Richard Nixon was still in office, but on the last night we were there, slightly buzzed on warm water bottle vodka, we went wandering desperate to do anything. That’s when the warm vodka Gods spoke to us. When we got down to the pool, there was a small glimpse of hope. We saw some kids our age, so we approached them and started talking. Turns out they were 15 and from Indiana too, and in the same situation as John and me.  There was our glimpse of hope: two girls, and a douche. The brother, the douche, and sister looked inbred. But their friend, Jennifer, caught our eye with her big melons. John and I were so desperate, we looked past inbred Jack and Jill so we could hang with this girl and her big cannons.  There wasn't really anything for us to do so we started walking around, bitching about this shitty paradise we were in. ​ John and I were content; we were kinda drunk, and since we were in high school, just walking next to a hot female got our penises hard. While we were walking, Jack was telling us about how they were playing ding dong ditch earlier.  That stuff stopped being fun for me in 4th grade, so I instantly knew these fucking kids were even lamer than John and me. Feeling nice, or drunk, or bored, maybe all three, I chalked it up as they were probably just bored like us. We continued to walk, and Jack started to play ding dong ditch again.  I felt like I was babysitting this giant pecker.  I felt like I was too cool to be hanging out with these incestual people, and for me to think that is a huge red flag. John and I laughed and went along with it. Fuck it, I even joined in a couple times. Here we were, playing ding dong ditch in fuckin’ Florida. Other teenagers our age were on Spring Break having sex and lasting a whole two minutes. Or getting limp wristed hand jobs.  Either way, I was envious. Instead we were ding dong ditching condos of old fossils who probably couldn't even hear it. Although lame, John and I were glad to be doing something. But then shit got weird. Like one of those "you had to be there moments". These things happen for some strange reason, and when they do, and you really don't what the fuck you were thinking. A string of bad luck happens, and it's almost like it was meant to be. At this point, we are acting like a bunch deranged toddlers who escaped Chuck E Cheese, laughing and acting like reckless buffoons. The more we laughed and fucked around, the more of that reckless teenage "fuck it" chemical got pumped into our little bird brains.  We gave no fucks and just wanted to have fun. It was almost like we took a back seat in our bodies while some crazed maniacs were manning the control stations. We continued watching Jack ding dong ditch until we got to the garbage room where you throw trash down the chute. For some fuckin’ reason, Jack opened the door to look inside.  He flings the door open, and in the process, breaks the garbage room door. The metal rod snapped right off the door, and fell in front of his guilty feet. We look at each other…then like most teenagers, we just start laughing. I don't know if it is a phase or what, but fucking stuff up was just fun in high school. I don't fuckin’ get it now. But it was. It seemed like everyday something got fucked with. If something could be broken, it was.  Luckily ,I don't think it was just me; teenagers just like fucking with shit when they’re bored. Teenagers are just shitty selfish individuals who don’t even think about consequences. It's almost like that part of the brain isn’t developed yet. If you didn’t go through that "break shit" phase, this whole story will leave you even more shocked. When the door broke, and we all start laughing like a pack of wild hyenas, Jack got egged on even more. The difference between a teenager and an adult, is the adult stops, and the teenager keeps fuckin’ going to make his friends laugh. Then out of nowhere, Jack hurls this metal rod off the 14th floor and it hits the ground. We laugh at his Olympic javelin throw , and start going to the other floors to break other garbage room doors as we now know how much fun this teenager pastime is... The harmless game of ding dong ditch quickly turned in a category five shit storm. We were on a vandalism rampage. We broke three or four more doors and tore down some paper signs. Shortly, the storm was over.  We decided to go walk around outside and cool off. We walked around for an hour and headed back to our condo. While walking back we run into this 20-year-old dick bag with roid rage, wearing a pink polo. He stopped us to tell us that the cops are coming because that metal rod that came sailing off the 14th-floor balcony, almost hit someone.  Also, turns out that throwing anything off a balcony is considered a felony. Who would have thought? This butt fuck in the pink polo pointed to the condo behind him, and asked if we knew anything. John and I play dumber than my parents were for letting me go on this trip. Meanwhile, the other 3 dumb fucks go on to explain to this guy that we weren't doing it in the building he pointed at but we were in another one.  Like that fuckin mattered?! The guy then starts flipping out talking about how the cops thought he might have done it and if he gets arrested "hes going to crack our skulls." We then saw the cop cars parked in front of the condo. We decided we best just get the fuck away from the whole situation – a real ding, dong, ditch. We decide we probably should head to the beach and lay low until the cops left. We waited at the beach for a good half hour. Continuing on with the night like nothing happened; we walked to the lone gas station by our condo. As we got to the gas station, we saw three cop cars leaving the condo and driving away. They drove past the gas station. Suddenly, all three cruisers pull a U-turn and head back our way. The worst part is, if we would have waited at the beach one more minute, we would have been in the clear from all the shit that was about to rain down on us. They stopped us and told us that someone told them to look for a "red-haired kid" and someone with a blue hoodie on. The red-haired kid was John, and Jack was the hoodie wearing bastard.  We had figured the skull crusher ratted on us. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize we were fuckin’ guilty. One by one, they talked to us to hear our stories. They knew they had caught us with our pants around our ankles. They hit us with all that cop bullshit, which if you aren't familiar with, you might as well just put the handcuffs on yourself. They said they knew the truth and were trying to break us. They actually didn't have any evidence, so if we would have just denied everything we could have walked away again. But we didn’t have a consistent story so we got fucked – and not in the envious limp wrist handjob type of way. After the brutal bloodbath,the cops told us to get in the car and we headed back to the condo, while they continued to mentally butt fuck us even more. We were grade A fucked, there was no getting out of this one. When we get to the condo there was a fuckin’ platoon of cops waiting. You would have thought we were clubbing puppies and not breaking door hinges. We get to the police circle jerk and notice there is a different group of kids in trouble too. We then found out they were skinny dipping when the cops came to investigate the garbage door massacre of the 14th floor. They saw them and arrested them. Lady Luck must have been sucking dick somewhere in a corner, because she wasn't with any of us that night. The cops continued questioning us and Jack started lying, saying I was the mastermind behind this circus show. It was every man for themselves at this point. I wasn't going to jail for that inbred fuck. I would have been home free again, but John "did the right thing" and told them I broke a door too. He really just wanted to save his own ass because he was going to be joining the Air Force – what a dick, but hey John, thanks for protecting our country. Jack and I got blamed for the doors, and Jill got charged because she ripped off the paper signs in the elevator.  John really should have been there with us, because he ripped some paper signs too, but I didn't want to ruin his chance at the Air force.  The only innocent one was Jennifer. I thought committing acts of vandalism was the best way into her pants, but she wasn't impressed. It was now 3 am, and the cop said she had to call my parents since I was a minor.  The cop put the call on speaker phone and called my house   A call from the cops is the last thing any parent fucking wants, let alone at 3 am during Spring Break. My dad picked up the phone half asleep and heard, "Hi Sir, this is Sergeant Kelly from the Navarre Beach Police Department. I am calling to inform you that your son is getting arrested."  There was a pause, where I could almost hear the brick my dad was shitting fall right out of his ass. They talked for a second, and then he did that white dad thing, where he thanked the officer and said he was glad I was at least safe. Glad I was safe? It probably would have been better if I was in a coma. The three of us on the freelance demolishing team, got corralled into the back of the cop car and made the 40-minute maiden voyage to my new home, jail. I was in and out of sleep most of the way there.  At one point, I woke up and the two cops were fuckin’ talking about Disney World. Here I am on the shittiest night of my life, and these guys were just calmly talking about visiting Disney World. Dicks. It wasn't really until I got to jail that it really hit me. There I was, in some random fuckin’ jail in buttfuckville, a thousand miles away from home. Everyone watches those cop shows and everyone tells themselves they are never going to jail. So, now being here, it felt surreal, and it was a total nightmare. They told me I was getting charged with "criminal mischief", and Jack with a felony for throwing the garbage room rod over the balcony. Jill got charged with "criminal mischief" for tearing paper signs off the wall…. I wish I could make this shit up. They took my belt and gave me some rubber slippers. I got processed and got my mug shot, and new Facebook profile picture taken, and thrown into a holding cell with Jack. If they hadn’t taken my belt, I most likely would have strangled him. Jack was acting like some big bad bad ass earlier. Now, he was laying on this concrete slab, bawling his eyes out and crying about how he wants his mommy. It's like I was in some stereotypical jail movie.   I was furious at that mosquito dick for getting me into all this, so I wasn't the most sympathetic to his river of tears drowning the cell. I told him to go cry on the ground so I could sleep on the concrete slab we called a bed. He continued his blubbering on the floor while I tried to get some sleep. When morning rolled around, John and his family came to pick me up. We were leaving that day, so the car was already packed up. We headed straight back from picking me up from Jail. You can only imagine how fuckin awkward the whole car ride was with John’s parents. Especially since John didn't get arrested, and this was really the first time I had met John's parents. They took me on vacation with them, and I get arrested. Apparently that’s frowned upon. The whole car ride I played back the whole situation and thought of all the things I could have done differently. We pulled into my driveway, and my dad was standing there.  He told me to go to my room, while he talked to John's dad. My dad came up later, and was surprisingly calm. Which made me more scared. I was wishing he would have yelled at me, so I could yell back. But instead, he took the other road. He was "disappointed" in me which made me feel even worse. To no surprise, I was grounded. This wasn’t my first rodeo, I knew the routine. I had just got ungrounded, and there I was grounded again. This time around, I was grounded for six months, and I had to pay $3,000  for a lawyer in Florida. Luckily, my lawyer was able to get the charges dropped. Worst part of the night? I didn't even get to see Jennifer's titties; all I got was an "I got arrested for breaking a garbage room door" story from Spring Break. At least Jack was a felon.                  

[liquorland11]

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[liquorland11]

Liquorland keeps on situating itself as a drink for companions, meeting up and getting a charge out of good circumstances – it is connected to the way to deal with internationalism, in that it is a brand that associates individuals, rejects no one and that it is 'for everybody'.

[tabloidtoc]

Globe, October 26

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Jeffrey Epstein’s madam Ghislaine Maxwell’s love letters to Prince Andrew 

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- Melanie Griffith looks alarmingly skinny in L.A., Machine Gun Kelly hangs out the passenger side of his ride in West Hollywood, Cynthia Nixon 

Page 3: Pierce Brosnan takes it easy in Hawaii, pot-puffing rapper Snoop Dogg looks mighty mellow while playing DJ at a California concert, Jennifer Garner hits the beach in Malibu 

Page 4: Rod Stewart’s wife Penny Lancaster didn’t think she was sexy after pigging out during the pandemic and having a hormone- and booze-fueled breakdown -- Penny says she and Rod treated lockdown like a grand vacation until she resolved to change her ways after seeing an unflattering selfie, Kim Kardashian is desperate to dump husband Kanye West but she is thinking with her head not her heart as she negotiates a pre-divorce deal to carve up their $3 billion fortune and she aims to avoid a dirty public divorce war over their fortune and their daughters North and Chicago and sons Saint and Psalm and Kim has all the paperwork ready to go but Kanye is burying his head in the sand and refusing to sit down and mediate -- Kim knows the moment she pulls the trigger all hell will break loose so she’s content to sit it out in the hope Kanye comes to his senses and makes this as amicable as possible after six years of marriage

Page 5: Warning signs are blinking for Katie Holmes’ red-hot romance with Emilio Vitolo Jr. because his mom doesn’t like their romance -- Emilio upset his mother by dumping his fiancee just hours before pictures of him canoodling with Katie surfaced and his mom thinks she brought him up better than that and she didn’t like how Emilio handled this at all, Mariah Carey never did the horizontal mambo with former fiance James Packer and when asked why Packer wasn’t mentioned in her memoir she said if it was a relationship that mattered it’s in the book but if not it didn’t occur and said they didn’t have a physical relationship 

Page 6: Whoopi Goldberg is riding roughshod on The View and her co-hosts are whining she’s a self-obsessed and money-grubbing pain tyrant -- Whoopi’s disenchanted with her role on the show and that’s become a problem for everybody -- she’s nailing the political commentaries but she’s been badgering the other ladies to step up and quit expecting her to be The View’s political know-it-all 

Page 7: Despairing Lisa Marie Presley wants to spend her final days at Graceland and then be buried next to her father and son -- since her only son Benjamin Keough committed suicide Lisa Marie is still beside herself with grief and she’s losing the will to go on -- her liver problems have roared back and she faces almost certain death if the vital organ fails

Page 8: Dolly Parton is ready to splurge $2 million for a total head-to-toe cosmetic surgery makeover in a grand last hurrah before her 75th birthday in January and she intends to wow the world with her new younger look while she parades her just released holiday album and new Netflix movie -- Dolly can’t wait for people to get a load of her and they’ll never believe her age

Page 9: Tommy Lee swears he’s been sober for a year but says before his last rehab stint he was swilling two gallons of vodka a day, blabbermouth talk show star Sharon Osbourne boasts that even after 38 years of marriage she and husband Ozzy Osbourne still do it at least twice a week, Led Zeppelin’s rockers are feeling like they’re in paradise after winning a long lawsuit claiming they stole the beginning of their monster 1971 hit Stairway to Heaven -- the band was accused of stealing the guitar opening for the tune from the song Taurus by the late Randy Wolfe of the band Spirit and the lawyer for Wolfe’s estate grumbles the band won on a legal technicality and Zeppelin rockers are the biggest art thieves of all times 

Page 10: A bitter feud that’s ripped apart the family of the late Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin could end after his niece Rebecca Lobie extended an olive branch to his pregnant daughter Bindi Irwin -- the two had been at odds since Rebecca left her gig as managing director of the family’s Australia Zoo in 2015 and now Rebecca hopes to mend ways with her cousins Robert Irwin and Bindi, Sadie Robertson reveals she developed an eating disorder when she was body-shamed after competing on Dancing with the Stars in 2014, Ghostbusters star Rick Moranis was socked and knocked to the ground in a cowardly sneak attack by a thug while taking a 7:30 a.m. walk in the Big Apple and he suffered head and back and hip pain and was checked at a hospital before heading to a police station to report the vicious attack that was caught on video 

Page 11: Prince Harry and his wife Meghan Markle are about to get clobbered with a whopping megabucks tax bill if they stay in the U.S. for too much longer because any foreigner who spends at least 183 days in the country is liable for federal and California state taxes and that means if they’re still here after the first week of November the taxman will be sending the pair who are worth an estimated $26 million a massive tab, Prince Harry and Meghan Markle have snubbed his grandma Queen Elizabeth’s annual Christmas get-together for the second year in a row even though at age 94 this will likely be her last holiday season -- Harry and Meghan are not ready to leave their cushy life in Montecito and at this stage they are really enjoying their new life in California and their new home 

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- Colin Hanks stocks up on supplies in West Hollywood (picture), Rumer Willis is in kinky online snaps leaving little to the imagination in an image from her aptly named Bondage photo series the daughter of Bruce Willis and Demi Moore wears nothing but thigh high boots and black rope binding her nude body, Kylie Jenner has taken obnoxious to a whole new level when she proudly shared online snaps of her two-year-old daughter Stormi wearing a $12,000 Hermes backpack to start at-home preschool, Kathie Lee Gifford’s daughter Cassidy Gifford brought her husband Ben Wierda for a Celebrity Family Feud taping but his game show debut ended up showcasing that his snug-crotched khakis outlined too much below-the-belt junk

Page 13: Kate Moss in London (picture), Chiwetel Ejiofor shoots the heist flick Lockdown in London (picture), Gwen Stefani gets into the Halloween spirit in L.A. (picture), Drew Barrymore says she is terrible at keeping things but she does have the red cowboy hat she wore in E.T.

Page 14: Lori Loughlin and Mossimo Giannulli’s daughter Olivia Jade’s boyfriend Jackson Guthy who is the son of cosmetics magnate Victoria Jackson and direct-marketing mogul Bill Guthy was arrested for DUI in Santa Monica, Justin Bieber and bride Hailey Bieber made it through a whole year of marriage and made a splashy display of the milestone on social media, Fashion Verdict -- Arica Himmel 8/10, Katherine Waterston 4/10, Alessandra Ambrosio 3/10, Josie Canseco 9/10, Maisie Williams 2/10 

Page 16: Following the heart-breaking crash of a two-year romance Reba McEntire is sporting a loving glow bouncing back into the arms of CSI: Miami hunk Rex Linn -- the two had their first date in January and have been virtual dating during the COVID-19 lockdown -- she said it’s just great getting to talk to somebody who she finds very interesting and funny and smart and who is interested in her too plus he’s very into her music and she’s into his career 

Page 17: Ben Affleck and Ana de Armas have agreed to a trial separation after their sizzling affair was chilled by work-forced separation -- the pair were red hot until Ben split to film in Ireland and his long-distance calls with an eight-hour time difference to Ana turned into bicker-fests because they’ve both been getting defensive and bickering over even trivial things and frustrated with the small window they’ve got to talk and the connection isn’t great and they end up hanging up on each other -- Ana’s tired of being stuck in that big house of his alone in Los Angeles and she feels like the hired help doing chores and walking dogs so they agreed to take a few weeks of chilling out and see where they are after that, beloved TV icon Regis Philbin spent his final desperate months wallowing in gloom over the pandemic; according to Kathie Lee Gifford Regis couldn’t perform anywhere and he couldn’t be Regis for people and it broke his heart 

Page 19: 10 Things You Don’t Know About Sara Gilbert, Pretty Woman boosted Jason Alexander’s career but the 1990 blockbuster had its downside because he was known around the world as the a-hole who tried to rape Julia Roberts and women would say mean things to him and punch him and he even got spit on by one woman, devastated Chrissy Teigen had a tragic miscarriage of a baby boy she’d named Jack -- the mom of two and wife of John Legend has been hospitalized in L.A. after experiencing complications and weeks before the miscarriage she was treated with Botox to relieve really bad pregnancy headaches 

Page 20: True Crime 

Page 24: Cover Story -- Ghislaine Maxwell’s love letters put Prince Andrew on the spot -- murdered sex predator Jeffrey Epstein’s accused madam Ghislaine is burying Prince Andrew under an avalanche of love letters proclaiming she’ll defend the disgraced British royal and begging for him to return her loyalty and affection -- now being held in a New York federal jail as she awaits trial on sex trafficking charges related to the late billionaire pervert Ghislaine writes Andrew most days saying how badly she fells about what he’s gone through and urging them to get through this nightmare together -- Andrew’s made some terrible decisions but even he knows it would be suicide to make any contact with Ghislaine and he needs to keep his distance and hope she stops writing these letters 

Page 26: Health Report 

Page 38: Real Life 

Page 40: John Lennon’s widow Yoko Ono is telling friends she’s knocking on heaven’s door -- the ailing 87-year-old is confined to a wheelchair and needs round-the-clock care and she’s been privately confiding she’s on her way out sparking worry and confusion -- the question swirls does she really think her days are numbered or is she just fishing for sympathy and attention and premature eulogies from VIPs all over the world 

Page 44: Straight Talk -- After living through a nightmare of false prosecution and imprisonment and persecution for a murder of her roommate Amanda Knox has been sucked into the criminal cult world of NXIVM whose kinky leader Keith Raniere has been convicted of sex trafficking children 

Page 45: Kirstie Alley is set to chuck hectic Hollywood for the quiet life on a farm with a down-to-earth country guy -- Kansas-born Kirstie has been quarantining in Wichita for the past seven months and now realizes how little she misses Hollywood and how much she loves living a more simple laid-back life so she’s decided to buy a farm and has sold her 21-bedroom in Maine which has been her second home for the past 30 years so she can move to the country

Page 47: Hollywood Flashback -- Al Pacino in 1983′s Scarface, Bizarre But True 

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