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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

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“I know you, Harry Styles”

Summary: Your boss asks you to quarantine at his house to watch over the place and his dog. He then calls you let you know a friend of his has gotten stuck in Los Angeles and needs a place to stay, so he has offered his friend the home that you are also going to be staying at. His friend is Harry Styles. Harry and you get to know each other while you both navigate through this uncertain time.

I’ve had this idea for awhile and im sorry if it’s a little late now, since strict quarantine has ended (lowkey might be coming back since california has been getting bad again), but still i really liked this and wanted to write it. Also look at how cute this sidelook from Harry is in this gif ^^ :) his nose is so slopey

It hasn’t been the easiest write so no worries if y’all hate it. I might do a part 2, but def no part 3 this time, unless it gets easier to write.

Word Count: 4.5k | Warnings: mentions of quarantine and Coronavirus (pls take care if the situation is triggering to you), language, drinking

Enjoy! (Feedback appreciated as always)

You weren’t sure what to say, you didn’t want to break that bliss of him not knowing you knew. “I,” you took a sip of wine, trying to gather a bit more courage, you then laugh meekly, “I, uh, know what you do.”

“Damn…” he said. Harry also took a sip of wine, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the gulp. “I was still debating whether I’d say that I was a musician or an accountant, y’know, something random.” You smiled, Harry was funny, you decided.

“You’d lie to me?” you said, a hint of flirtation behind your words.

“Oh no, never.”

You were living in Los Angeles when the Coronavirus outbreak first arrived in the United States and California went into quarantine. You lived in a pretty small apartment in Silver Lake and you weren’t excited to be cooped in there, alone for at least the two weeks they had just announced. The governor issued that everything would be shut down by morning and you had to admit you were a little stressed. Just as you were about to walk into your apartment and lock the door, ready to shelter in, your boss and friend of yours called.

“Hey Y/N,” David said quickly over the phone, “You know how I’ve just left for England two days ago and I’m already here. Well, since I’m not a U.S. citizen, I can’t come back. Which is fine, but I was just wondering if you’d mind quarantining at my house and just watching over it? Until I can get back?”

You sighed, “Oh my god, David. I’m so sorry.” “The U.S. announced their border closure so strangely, I couldn’t have known...But it’s fine, really, I’m actually kind of happy to be home.” You nodded as if he could see you.

“So do you think you can do it? I’ve been having my neighbor check in on my dog, daily, but I’d prefer a friend to be at the house with him right now.”

“Oh! Yeah of course, I’ll pack a bag and head over right now. I’m honestly relieved you’ve given me this offer. You’re house is fucking huge and my apartment is tiny.” David chuckled at your slow response but happy tone.

You were right, David did have a nice house. His place was up in the Los Angeles Hills, a place he’d inherited from a wealthy grandparent. It was definitely going to be an upgrade for quarantine. David’s place would make it easier to be alone because of his cute little dog around, a swimming pool, a beautiful kitchen, literally anything you could have asked for. You drove up the long driveway, to the rustic house, David refused to call a classic 70’s mansion as much as you insisted upon it.

“Guess it doesn’t matter what I call it now, huh.” You said to no one. You pulled out your spare key, David had given to you for emergencies when you had started working directly under him. You opened the door and stepped inside to the empty mansion. Checkers, David’s dog came running up to you, pawing your legs and howling his tiny voice at your arrival. You smiled, setting down your bags and grabbing Checkers from the ground. “Hi, baby!” You swung him around and he licked your face adoringly. You ruffled his fur and then placed him back on the ground, he wasn’t more than eleven pounds.

Then you went to find your bedroom. You heard your footsteps echoing throughout the empty house and it definitely felt weird. Being alone, in this big house. You wondered why you had to keep convincing yourself it was so great. Then your phone rang for the second time today. David again. You threw your bags at the foot of the guest bed and walked back through the house to the main room adjoined to the kitchen, near the front door.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Y/N, thanks for picking up! And thank you for agreeing to watch the house -”

“Yeah, of course, I’m just settling in.”

“That’s great! But, I hope you don’t mind, a friend of mine has similar luck to me. He was just supposed to be in Los Angeles for a couple days, but he’s gotten stranded there and has nowhere else to go. He’s a good friend of mine and the house is most definitely big enough for two…” He trailed off, slightly anxious to put you out, when you had already been generous enough to leave the comfort of your own place during this stressful time. “So, I told him he could stay at mine, if he didn’t mind living with a stranger.”

“I’m the stranger?” You asked, slightly confused from what David was saying.

“Yeah, yeah I mean, I told him you were a friend and that you worked with me, obviously.” You laughed with some relief, “Ok, I’ve got you. That’s fine, more than fine, he’s got nowhere to go, it’d be rude of me to say no to him joining me in this mansion,” You got a little excited and emphasized the mansion.

David groaned, but finished, “Well, great! Because I’m pretty sure he’s already on his way. Bye!” The line went dead.

You wouldn’t say you were unhappy that you were going to be sharing the house. The loneliness of the empty house had grown daunting the minute you heard your footsteps. But you realized David hadn’t even given you the name of the man you were going to be living with for supposedly the next two weeks. As well, what if you and the man didn’t get along and were at each other’s throats for two weeks.

You shook the thoughts from your mind, trying not to make any presumptions. Then, you began to put away the groceries you had brought with you from your apartment and refilled Checkers’ water bowl.

Maybe twenty minutes after your phone call with David, informing you of your quarantine housemate, the doorbell rang and you jogged lazily to the foyer with the grand front door.

In front of you stood, a man with mop of dark brown hair on his head, some large green eyes, a nice outfit, and an array of tattoos peeking out from under different parts of his clothing. Wait- you thought - this isn’t some random tall, good-looking white guy. And then it dawned on you. David would be close friends with Harry Styles. This is so typical of that man. And for him to never tell you that before. That is especially David, trying to keep this guy all to himself.

“Hi, I’m David’s friend, he said he’d call ahead and let you know, I’m ‘Arry,” he rested one of his bags on the ground and reached out to shake your hand. You blinked your eyes, still a little surprised at who your roommate was going to be, but determined to be chill about it. You then reached out your hand to meet his. You took note of the largeness of his hands and how soft they were. His hand slid perfectly in yours and his eyes intensely gazed at you in the hallway.

“Yeah, he called, I’m Y/N.” You released his hand after realizing you still had hold of it, just a touch too long. You stepped aside to let Harry bring his things into the house. “Do you need any help with your bags?” You asked quickly, not wanting to seem rude. Harry turned to you as he had just stepped into the house and was exactly beside you, he quirked his head, “Oh no, I’m alright, no need to worry about me.”

“Okay,” you simply responded and walked back into the kitchen. You had left your phone in there and still had some things to organize, David didn’t keep his house as clean or organized as you liked it. You always set to work around his house whenever you came by, no matter his protests. Music was playing from your phone over the bluetooth speakers David had in the house, a mix of random songs for the month that you had compiled a couple weeks ago. It was a mix of your favorite artists: oldies and some newer stuff. You turned it up as you got to work.

Your music played loud enough that you didn’t hear Harry walk into the kitchen. “Hey,” he said. Startled, you flipped yourself to face him, discarding the box of cereal you were moving to be with the other cereals.

“What’s up?”

“I know we don’t know each other,” Harry started. You weren’t exactly sure where he was going with this. “And I’m fine if you don’t want to really interact, but I was actually kind of excited to find out that I wasn’t going to have to be all alone in this house for two weeks.”

Your lips quirked up in about a half smile as a soft chuckle came out. You rested back on the countertop behind you, feeling more relaxed at the rest of Harry’s statement. Harry stared at your figure still taking in the stranger in front of him. You seemed fairly laid back and he liked the music he heard from the speakers, assuming it was your selection.

“Oh. Yeah,” you began, scratching your head, “I know, I was excited to not have to be in my apartment, but then when I got here I got lowkey scared of being here with just myself and Checkers.”

“Wait, Checkers is here?” Harry’s mood and tone immediately picked up, looking excitedly around for the little dog. “I think he’s outside,” you said, crossing to one of the many back doors. You called for David’s dog, you and Harry’s third roommate, and he came leaping through the door.

He ran to Harry and Harry knelt to grab the dog and pick him back up. He twirled Checkers around over his head and kept repeating “Who’s a good boy” before placing the dog on one of the couches. On the couch, Harry playfully flipped the dog on his back and scratched his belly. Checkers wiggled and opened his mouth trying to nip playfully at Harry. Harry in turn put his head right near Checkers’ and shook his own fluffy hair in the dog’s face. Checkers went wild, loving the attention he was receiving.

After a bit, Harry let Checkers go and stood up, you had been watching on amusedly, “God, I love this dog, so fucking cute,” he said. You were surprised Harry knew David well enough to know his dog, but you dismissed it. Then, you laughed and agreed with him.

“Well, do you want to get to know each other over dinner tonight?” Harry inquired as you walked back into the kitchen, still trying to finish your self-given task of cleaning it up. “Sure, why not?”

It was the dinner time you and Harry had agreed upon. You had showered and unpacked over the past few hours. Harry, from what you knew, had done the same. You two hadn’t talked much more since he had suggested the dinner. The guest room he had chosen was on the second floor, like yours, just down the hall. After checking the time on your phone, you left your room and went downstairs. You found Harry on the couch with Checkers, reading a book. You tapped his shoulder from behind the couch and he turned his head to look up at you. “We said 7, right?” He snapped his book shut after raising her brows, coming out of a reading trance. “Oh, yeah,” he responded, rising from his seat and heading to the kitchen. You followed after him, “So what do you want to eat. I brought some groceries with me so we could cook something or there’s always take out.”

Harry opened the fridge, “Let’s make something, yeah?” He leaned back from the inside of the fridge and threw a smile to you over his shoulder. He was very confident and charismatic in person you had noticed just from the few odd moments you had spent with him already. You liked his music and felt like you should tell him you knew who he was, but you also liked the feeling you got that you were just two normal people living together for a little.

“Alright,” you began, walking to his side to look into the fridge as well, “Any requests, Harry?”

You looked up at his face, he was quite tall, taller than you had really thought. He was a really big figure up close, slightly intimidating if you were being honest. He simply demanded attention just with his presence, something strong emanating from him. You could see that strength in the lines of his jaw, lined in stubble, his green eyes set deeper in his head, the sinews in his neck. In every part of his body, there was strength, yet he spoke with a kindness about him. You were extremely interested in getting to know more about him, for this very reason. How could such a big, intimidating man in size and presence be known for being so kindhearted and in touch with himself and the world? What was his secret?

Harry simply began to remove various items from the fridge, placing them down on the island behind the two of you. He only said in response to your previous question, “Like Mexican?” You nodded and laughed, you’d grown up on Mexican food.

“I was thinking fajitas would be good, what do you think?”

“Yeah, absolutely, how can I help?”

Harry grinned at your attitude, he could tell you were the really fun, easy-going type of person. He was glad you weren’t being weird with him, even if he was a stranger. He finished taking the ingredients from the fridge and then gave you instructions on what he needed help with. The two of you set to work, this time it was Harry’s music playing over the speakers.

You sat at the dining table in the next room over from the kitchen and seating area. Harry had told you to go ahead as he finished your plates of food. Moments later, he walked into the room holding the plates. “Ta-da!” He exclaimed while presenting the two plates of food, that looked admittedly, very tasty.

He had changed his outfit from earlier and you were just now noticing. Earlier, it had been a striped dress shirt that he had dressed down with rolled up sleeves and half of the buttons undone, revealing a nice string of pearls, with navy high waisted trousers that cinched at his slender waist. Now, he was in a simple purple knit sweater and brown corduroy flares, still wearing the pearls around his neck. Neither of you were wearing shoes, both wearing only socks. And while Harry might consider that to be a more casual outfit, you were in leggings and a hoodie with a sun on it that you had thrifted awhile ago.

He sat down across from you after placing one plate on the placemat in front of you. The dining table was huge, meant for dinner parties and entertaining, not a traveler and a young employee. You took a bite and hummed in appreciation, but then said, “Wait.”

Harry stopped eating and looked at you, concerned there was something wrong with his cooking. “Red wine,” you stated. Harry’s worried face grew into a grin. “Red wine,” he echoed in agreement and nodded his head. You hopped up from your seat and ran into the kitchen, looking for the cabinet David kept his wine in.

After finding a reasonable Malbec, a favorite red of yours, you grabbed an opener, two glasses, and went back into the dining room where the munching Harry awaited. He was happily chewing his food as he gazed at you as you placed the glasses between your plates, uncorked the bottle with ease, and grabbed the glasses once more to pour the wine.

Finally, you sat down and said, “To whatever the fuck we are about to get ourselves into.” Harry laughed and offered a “Salud” in response. The two of your glasses clinked and you both drank, afterwards setting off to eat your food.

As you ate, you began to talk. Harry started, “So, you work with David?” while taking his fork and stabbing at a cooked bell pepper slice. You finished chewing, “Ah, yeah, he’s my boss. But we work pretty closely, I’m kind of like a personal assistant, but I do more than just his scheduling and errands.” Harry nods.

“Oh no, never. I would’ve definitely just told you who I was if you didn’t know, but it’s nice to pretend for a little.” He grinned as he said the words, his elbow resting on the table with his wine glass in hand. You ate some more, letting his words linger in the air. It’s nice to pretend for a little.

“Well,” you finally said, “I won’t give you any special treatment, if that’s what you’re implying. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just a guy staying at the same house as me. Doesn’t matter to me what you do to pay your bills.”

Harry liked that. You were very intriguing, the way you spoke to him. Especially now that he was sure that you knew about his music and celebrity. “You make it sound like I’m a sex worker or something naughty!” he said, feeling more comfortable with you with the more time that passed and the more wine he had.

“It’s kind of the same thing...providing a service - that your body is an essential part of providing it properly.” You stated smugly, looking over at Harry from behind the rim of your glass. “And there’s nothing wrong with sex workers,” you added.

“You’re right,” he stopped, wanting to continue the conversation, but confused how to move on from sex workers. “So what do you think of my music?”

“I thought you wanted to be treated like you weren’t a celebrity,” you countered.

“That’s out the window, c’mon,” he said, leaning forward.

“You just want me to boost your ego,” you smirked, liking the banter that was coming so easily between you two, “Like I said, I know you, Harry Styles.”

He scoffed at your teasing and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t actually annoyed, he was enjoying this. “Then you’re a fan, huh?” Not letting it go without you saying how you felt about his music.

“Fine,” you sang slightly, shifting in your seat. “Your music,” you paused again, enjoying Harry eager to hear your opinion and you being in control, “is better than a lot of other modern stuff considered good by today’s standards.”

“So you like it?” He said slowly. That was probably the most roundabout, vague compliment he had ever heard. He picked at his almost empty plate, still staring at you.

You tilted your head and placed it on your palm, looking to the sky as if you were thinking about his question hard. Finally, you shifted your head in your palm so you were looking at Harry wearily. Then you shut one eye and said, “I guess,” before shrugging your shoulders as if you didn’t care at all. Harry let a single blow of air out of his nose, like a short laugh, before standing and taking both of your plates. As he walked out of the room he whistled lowly, “You are such a tease, Y/N.”

He disappeared into the kitchen and you heard him cleaning up. You were about to call out to him and say how he didn’t have to do the cleaning since he did the majority of the cooking, but then your eyes fell to the half drunk bottle of wine. Normally, you’d re-cork it and drink the rest at a later date, but it was still early in the evening and you and Harry literally had nowhere to go. Also, the two of you hadn’t gotten past the work question of getting to know you. There was still a bit more to learn about each other and you were happy to continue to discuss over wine.

Harry reemerged from the kitchen and you held up the wine bottle to him and waved it, “We need to finish this.”

“Have I told you yet that I like the way you think?” Harry walked over and grabbed the bottle from your hand. He quickly poured both your glasses much fuller than the usual standard glass of wine. When you eyed him curiously about the heavy pour, he only shrugged practically saying it’s just us drinking it who cares if we fill up our glasses extra full.

“No you haven’t, but I like the way I think too! I’m very smart you know,” you said with some play in your voice as you walked through a doorway that led to the sitting room. Harry trailed behind, bringing the now less than full bottle with him. You both sat yourselves on the couch, a fair amount of space between the two of you, not too close, but not too far apart either.

You both took long gulps of the wine. You were starting to feel a little warm from it, but you enjoyed where the wine was taking your conversation so you weren’t planning on stopping. Harry’s big green eyes squinted slightly at you from behind his wine glass, similar to how you had done earlier. He lowered it and licked his lips. There was definite tension between the two of you right now. Maybe you both had realized the implications of being alone with a stranger for two weeks with no interruptions and no distractions. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating because all you wanted to do was keep teasing Harry and have him keep baiting you.

Harry asked a question suddenly, breaking the silent staring that had been going on. And the tension was broken the two of you continuing your getting to know you for the rest of the night. By eleven, the bottle was empty and forgotten on the coffee table and you and Harry had scooted closer. You had similar likes and dislikes when it came to music. You talked about fashion and what it was like to get to wear top designers all the time - Harry being the wearer, not you sadly. You asked him what it was like to tour and he asked you more about your job and living in Los Angeles, how it was to not walk around the place and be bombarded with people. Then, you circled back to travel.

“I’ve been lucky enough to travel a lot in my life, too. I traveled with my family as a kid and I made sure my job would have me traveling around, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry took the last sip of his wine and set the glass down, readjusting himself to lean on his arm on the couch, looking at you.

“Was supposed to be with David in England, actually, but I got held up and was going to join him next week,” you mused, finishing your wine as well and leaning your body so your back was fully against the back cushion.

“No way, I was supposed to leave next week, too. Who knows, maybe we would have been on the same plane and crossed paths like that without even knowing,” Harry said excitedly.

You rolled your head to the right and looked at his face, how it had lit up at that unlikely prospect. “You probably wouldn’t have known, but I’m sure I would’ve been able to tell, probably have a whole crowd of fans there waiting for you, end up having to delay the plane for ya’. And I’d be sitting there like ‘which famous prick is holding us up?”

“Oi!” he swatted at your leg closest to him, “Has anyone told you you’re a bit mean.”

You raised your brows at his physical contact and his words. You shifted to your side again and slid your legs beneath you, looking directly at Harry. “Yes,” you said seriously.

Harry laughed at that. At least you were honest, and you were funny, too. You joined his laughter, it felt contagious, the way his voice was so loud, but so jovial. His eyes managed to twinkle even as he squinted, his smile taking over his entire face.

Without either of you noticing, the two of you had shifted extremely close to one another. You finally realized because you felt Harry’s breath fanning over your face. His breath smelled of Malbec, but his over scent mixed with it and turned it into something enticing. You wanted to lean in more, but the only place further to go was his lips.

Harry’s eyes flickered to meet yours, confused yet delighted about the situation he had somehow gotten himself in. The two of you breathing in each other, chests heaving from laughter, hearts beating from wine, and bodies ready to ignite the minute they touched. You remained there for a few moments more, basking in his glow.

And then you whispered, “I should go to bed.” You pulled away and retreated upstairs to your room. Harry was left there, sitting stunned at the whole situation. How had that happened? And what had you just stopped from happening? You were thinking the very same things as you sat down on your bed and calmed your breathing.

This was going to be a long two weeks.

Part 2

taglist: @cronias13, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow, @harrys-cherrry,

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #my writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles is domestic #harry styles slow burn #i hate this title #first long fic with no quote #nothing was strong enough #jk i had to change it #i couldnt handle it with out #enjoy

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mc-slowwalker · 3 years ago

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our vaccine rollout… I’m gonna cry. people refusing to get vaccines is so fucking annoying oh my god it pisses me off. over here we had anti lockdown protests where no one was wearing a mask in nsw where they have the most cases too🥲🥲🥲 We had a period of time where restrictions were eased a lot but I still wore my mask everywhere and will probably continue to. oh man I wish I could live on campus cause I get jack shit done at home but unfortunately I’m only on campus on two days cause going there by public transport everyday is not ideal

yeah I’m happy for the people that did get a good graduation because honestly we deserved it after the year we had😭

uni has just been so difficult. like last sem I let myself fall behind wayyy too easily and did like no work online and then stopped caring and it all just snowballed. hoping for a better time this sem but also uni starts today and I didn’t even realise until like 20 minutes ago so we’ll see. in my defence I knew it started soon I just thought it was sunday and not monday today. I’m blaming the fact that it’s cause so many of the streamers I watch are american so I just like accidentally go by american time sometimes. also you got this!! good luck on second year!!

yeah I really thought red rabbits weren’t gonna pull it off but they really brought it back!! and even besides that they were such a fun team to watch! I’m so happy for quackitys first win and him taking photos throughout was so sweet. sapnap keeping dream in check was so funny but also worked so well for them !! yes!! THANK YOU MICHAELMCCHILL!!! lmao dream going I’m going to assault a child was so funny. no you’re so right, if you’re in manhunts you’re automatically s tier. yeah it’s definitely interesting and the hunters definitely are better at teamwork. and they’ve like gotten better over time too. and dreams not as used to it cause he’s on his own and doesn’t have to keep track of a team. I love a good scuffed mcc!! it makes it all the more fun. noxcrew please never fix it <333

you are so right. absolutely amazing and very important analysis that c!tommy must do taxes and c!skeppy is a dentist. but also, wilbur lore today!! I haven’t watched it yet cause I was sleeping and probably won’t till later today cause uni but it looks interesting. plus it’s cc!wilbur it’s bound to be interesting

Fun fact tumblr is so broken that I physically couldn’t type here until I “filled in the blanks” in your ask. It was a joke at first (I started on the bottom) but now it’s stuck like that I think

America eased up a while ago and I can’t see them going back at it if delta picks way up. I’m pretty sure the governor of my state got stripped of a ton of his power because he made it illegal to not wear masks in stores. Yeah my whole family still wears masks and probably won’t be taking them off in public for a very long time. Also only two days??? That blows. And public transport is way less than ideal now

Yooooo good luck at uni!! I failed two classes in my first year which got me really fucked up but I know you’re gonna kill it this year! I start in a couple of weeks and god I have a lot of stuff to do before then. Also extremely funny because despite being american I only ever catch british people’s streams I’d get way too fucked up if I tried to watch american streamers too often thank god the feral boys never stream but also so sorry puffy and bbh.

I think noxcrew should add more glitches to mcc actually or at least the mcc server. It’s super broken anyways so I think they should go all the way the first thing I want in the mcx practice server: all barrier blocks removed. In the actual mcc I think each mcc should have one game where the barrier blocks (in the beginning too) do not work, and not only should the game be random, players cannot know when this glitch happens. i would also like to see a surprise body blocking round in hole in the wall. Just to spice things up. Off topic but if/when ponk gets to play in mcc I’d like to see him team with hbomb I think it would really help ponk come out of his shell a bit

I missed the first half of wilbur lore so I have to go back and watch it too but I’m a huge fan of c!wilbur go off you funky little dude

Edit: it didn’t keep any of the stuff I put so pog but also tumblr why just let me type normal

#anon #ask #long post

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keywestlou · 4 years ago

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MORNING STEW #47

It’s one of those days! So much news. Material galore. So I am rolling out today’s topics as they appears in my notes.

First, a morning happening.

I fell. On the stairs in my home. Sore leg is all I suffered. However my wall at the top of the stairs looks like a Picasso.

I was carrying a large glass of chocolate protein drink up with me to sip on as I wrote. Stubbed my toe as I neared the top. Went flying. As did the chocolate drink.

The wall at the top of the stairs now a work of art! Looks like it will need a paint job to clear what was left after I finished cleaning the wall.

Floor at top of stairs likewise covered. However it is tile and I was easily able to clean the mess.

Why the calamity? Simple. I was not using my cane. This is day 302 on my self-quarantine. I discovered early on the cane was not needed (or so I thought) in the house. When I sensed I was going to fall, there was always a wall or piece of furniture to balance myself.

My theory was good for 302 days. I intend to use my cane in the house more often.

Families not being fed, people being evicted, no work available, etc. The third stimulus package is desperately needed. Such has been the case for several months.

The Democrats came out with their plan in late September or early October. The Senate never voted on it. McConnell has kept it on his desk. Trump says he does not like it.

Not all Republicans have a care not attitude. Four Republican Senators sat down with five Democrats the past few days to see if something could be worked out.

The bill the House approved in September was in the $3 trillion area. The “compromise” bill suggested by the nine Senators yesterday $906 billion. A far cry from what is and has been needed. McConnell thinks it’s too much. Trump does not like it.

They sound like Marie Antoinette: “Let them eat bread!”

Republicans should recall what happened to her.

Trump refuses to give up. Through yesterday morning, 39 lawsuits were brought to have the election declared a fraud, etc. Trump won only 1.

Yesterday after the first 38 defeats, Trump brought another lawsuit. This one in Wisconsin. He has a new tact. He wants the State Supreme Court to nullify and withdraw Governor Evers’ certification of the election.

Does Donald ever learn? When is enough enough with him?

The New York Times reported yesterday that Giuliani sat down with Trump last week to discuss a pardon for Giuliani. Two persons verified the meeting with the Times.

This morning news indicates the issue of Ivanka, Donald Jr., Eric. and son in law Jared arose. Apparently Trump wants them pardoned before he leaves office.

Money flows freely in Washington. A story broke yesterday of a federal court pending lawsuit where someone was tying to bribe another person to get Trump to pardon someone else.

Lawsuit several months old. Nothing further known at this time.

Pardons for sale. Wonder if there will be such a sign on the White House lawn.

Republicans have politically destroyed reality in everything they do. This has to stop.

Such action has been ongoing for at least 30 years. A planned event. Take for example the conservative Supreme Court. The Federalist Society has fought for 30 years or more for it. They now have it. The Court will reek havoc on the American people.

People feel unsafe. Have felt that way for many years. I refer to uneducated whites. Thirty years ago they were making as much as a college graduate. Today so little in comparison. They looked to Trump to return them to the comfortable days they once knew. A time when they felt safe. Not realizing he never would.

A funny cartoon on today’s Key West Citizen’s editorial page. A husband and wife sitting in their rocking chairs watching TV. The husband says: “Look at all the kissing and hugging.” The wife responds: “Will a vaccine bring it back?”

May Johnson this day 1896.

Everest missed the boat. May wrote, “Ev. got left, the boat was gone when he got down, ha!”

The hand writing is on the wall. The Trump ship is going down. The rats are jumping overboard.

Attorney General Barr announced yesterday that the Department of Justice investigation uncovered no widespread fraud that would change election results.

Barr needs to get on the side of truth and righteousness. His ass could be on the line, though I doubt it.

The Georgia special Senate election could turn into blood on the streets. Trump followers protesting big time. At the homes of some election officials. Threats of bodily harm.

Trump recently said voting was rigged in Georgia. Said many times. Suggested Republicans should not even vote on January 5. Implying their votes would mean nothing.

Republican politicians now fear Trump’s comments will keep Republican voters from the polls. Panic is not setting in. It has sunk in.

Various political leaders are coming out advising Republicans to vote.

Interesting.

Georgia has turned into a Michigan. Public employees being threatened. There is a real fear that someone will be seriously harmed.

Parking lot dining in Miami-Dade County has proven to be a hit. Restaurateurs and customers like it.

Restaurants are applying for permission to use their parking lots for dining. Applications being made. Will depend how many parking places a restaurant has. Existing law requires x number of spaces. A restaurant will need extra spaces to set up parking lot dining.

The weather outside is frightful…..Actually not that bad. The problem is that it is the first cold wave of the season. We have to adjust.

I went to sleep with a heavy quilt on me. Woke at 1 am and was cold. Especially my ears. Temperature 61 degrees. Turned the heat on. Within 15 minutes, everything was ok. In fact, it got so warm I did not need the blanket.

Going to be colder tonight. Perhaps high 50’s.

Cold front will have passed friday when the temperature by day will be in the high 70’s.

Understand how I feel. I am not a big fan of cold weather, that’s why I moved to Key West.

Hope you enjoyed today’s Morning Stew.

Enjoy your day, also!

MORNING STEW #47 was originally published on Key West Lou

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someplace-that-is-else · 5 years ago

Text

‘That Damn ‘Rona: Small Tales from the Zombie Apocalypse’

When it happened…I remembered being excited.

Here in San Diego, it fell on St. Patrick’s weekend. I had been excited. I’ve been steadily working. My new job had given me a sense of appreciation that I had not felt from the job that I left in a long while. Meanwhile my other job at my postal place had been going swimmingly. Best of all, I had been putting finishing touches on my forthcoming novel DARKENED TABULA.

I felt on top of the world. I had been on a journey of self-discovery, and I wanted to see how far I could go if I applied myself better. If I focused on what I felt would make me happy. But what was happiness to me? It had been a funny path to go down. One of the advantages was being reminded of how much writing met to me. It had always been the dream, but I was not pursuing it nearly as much as I did when I relocated back to San Diego in 2013.

But self-discovery was not just about my professional life. It was also about my personal life. It was something that I had not been focusing on as of late. And it was about time I got back out there. And for me, it was relearning the act of the flirt. St. Patrick’s was the perfect weekend for that. So I was excited.

Then the reports started coming in. The reports were about people falling ill. It was about news telling people to stay in. It was about something coming out of China called the Coronavirus. I remembered seeing memes and whatnot online, paying it no mind since I was excited about getting my drink on.

Little did I know that my life…as I knew it…was OVER.

Losses: For Want of Toilet Paper

I was worried.

There I was at work. News reports had been coming in. There was a virus in the air. It was important that people stayed in. It was important that if people could not that they wore masks and gloves. Be sure to stay a certain distance away from people. Meanwhile, there I was at work thinking about one thing.

Toilet Paper.

I thought it was funny at first. There were these reports online and all around in other states about toilet paper. For some reason, people were buying toilet paper in bunches. I could not comprehend why since from what I heard some were doing it a dozen of a dozen at a time. Food I could understand, but TOILET PAPER??? It was probably a good idea if I got myself a pack.

Meanwhile, I looked outside. My new job was at the mall. So far, all the workers in the mall were worried. It appeared that this virus was spreading. However, the mall was STILL open. So, what did it all mean?

It started small though. First, the mall reduced everything to To-Go orders. That was shocking enough. But…manageable. After all there were still tables outside. They could open their food and eat quickly.

Then…the janitorial team started to take the seating away. I remembered walking into work one day, shocked at how empty the area I worked in, looked. To make it more funny, there were people who still sat in the seating that was still available. If a table was nearby, some customers actually would take a table, lifted it, and connected tables. By this point, there was a crowd limit…and they were over it. Arguments ensued between them and the janitorial staff.

Days passed by, me standing waiting for a To-Go order. ANY order. Then…the mall shut down completely. We were already starting to shut down earlier because the governor had already started to tell people to stay home. And…people listened. Well, I got a lot of cleaning done. Suddenly, security showed up with a note. And then we were closing.

Well…my thought was 1) I could get some more toilet paper which I decided to put off and 2) at least I got to work a whole pay period. I had no idea how long this would go on.

And then…the state went on lockdown. And that…got extended an extra month.

Man in a Cage: New Realities

I waited on the bus, mask on face.

Thankfully, my postal job was labeled essential by the state and the government. While my hours had been greatly reduced from what I was used to, at least I had a job. There were people all over San Diego who did not have one, applying for unemployment. Or they were waiting for as Nene Leakes would call them a

In the pursuit of self-discovery, I had become responsible enough to have some budget though I had been slipping pre-outbreak.

I got on the bus. My eyes took in everyone around me. Usually it was the Express bus I got on. And today…was unusually thin of crowd. Okay, maybe not so unusually.

The governor had officially announced a stay-at-home order. Unless you were getting groceries, had a job, etc, you were supposed to be at home. So work done, that was where I was heading.

There I was usually doing workouts from home. Or I was working on something writing related. Or I was caught in a bingefest of some TV show.

That 3 Day Battlestar Galactica marathon on SyFy for example was deliciously exciting since I had not seen them since they first aired 10 years ago, and they were relevant given what was going on in the world today.

Too many naps.

Which brought me to downsides to this stay at home. For one, my sleep pattern was now all over. And with reduced hours at work, there were stretches of time where I did nothing but sleep. There were some exercises I missed at my gym that I could not do at home. Being short on hours, trump check or not, I had to start questioning everything. I had immediately put a hold on DARKENED TABULA’s cover because I was not sure if that was money that I could be using on something that I might need in the immediate future with reduced money coming in. There were times I got lonely, finding myself looking back over my life. Nothing made a person think of their morality more than a virus that could take you out, your mind on missed opportunities…or even if you might get a chance to do something about it.

I walked out the door with mask on. My liquids at the house were low. I always tried to have orange juice, milk, and water on hand. One had to always stay hydrated. I headed out because I wanted to beat the 8pm Yelling. To show appreciation for the hard-working essential workers out there dealing with Coronavirus, the Stay-at-Homers usually yelled from their balconies.

Downtown San Diego…had A LOT of balconies. Not to mention loud stereos.

As I went about my errands, I saw them. People in crowds that were not couples. People walked about without masks. A few of the people even acted like they did not know what 6 feet (the average a person should be from someone) was. I kinda suspected that was how this week was going to go down. After all, the weather service had said that after a long period of cool weather that the temperature was going up again. Warm weather meant hard for virus contamination, right?

Better question…why take the chance? After all, the news had been out for a while that the virus could hit or cause the death of people under 50? That it could hit quickly. If not for yourself, people did care about whether other people die or not, right?

Wrong. These were not people heading to a grocery store. Some were walking pets which I understood. A few were actually heading to house parties.

I stayed in for the rest of that weekend. I…just could not.

And with no vaccine forthcoming…I wondered.

Would it always be this way? Feeling like a man in a cage who could not get out of? Was this the new reality?

Change That Energy, Change Your Path?

I found it again.

The cover for DARKENED TABULA. I had looked through a lot of covers. I had presented them before my ‘committee’ of close associates. They had given me feedback. And I finally decided on it. And then Coronavirus hit. But…life went on.

Perhaps that was the problem. People now protested. Some were protesting for the right to go back to work because not everyone got a trump check, or it was not coming fast enough or it was not enough. Then there were people protesting for the right to get a haircut. Some were out there waving symbols that reveal more about them than they thought. In any case, watching the world turn into a zombie apocalypse made me come to a conclusion.

Vaccine or not, I did not think the world would be the same after all of this. And like it or not, people were going to have to accept this new normal. This new reality.

My mind knew given how people were acting, especially in opposite of a stay-at-home order and in ways that endangered people if they did not go directly home after they protested, that this might be long term. As a Gemini, I was going to have to think accordingly. I was also going to have to act accordingly.

One thing that I did not like about the Lockdown was how it set me back. A lot of what I wanted to do I could not do because my access was denied. The best internet as people knew WAS NOT at my house. My need for new knowledge was reignited. Part of that included relearning languages. I had so much knowledge in my brain and could not access it consistently. I wanted to relearn language again because it would help with customers. Another thing that had been reawakened due to Lockdown: a long ago promise I made about a very long overdue trip that I would need Spanish for.

Thoughts. Sparks. New turnings in my path. Nothing like a virus to make one think about what they wanted out of life. And how they might go about living it.

So there I was. My potential cover in front of me. A question formed in my head.

Would I continue to wait with no end date in sight? Or…would I go for it?

#coronavirus #sandiego #lockdown #zombieapocalypse #tales #rhoa #neneleakes #trumpcheck #battlestargalactica #syfychannel #binging #lockdown #sandiego #sd #toiletpaper #togoorders #spanish #paths #selfdiscovery #bookcovers #setbacks #stayathome #new #realities #newnormal

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themikithornburg · 7 years ago

Text

Poetry behind bars

I have never been in prison (yet), but I have been in a prison, where I took part in a poetry reading.

It may strike you as odd that a poetry reading would be held in a prison; you may even think that being required to attend a poetry reading might be a form of punishment used to make prisoners' lives even more miserable than they already are. Let me assure you, though, that the prisoners I read poetry to were at the reading by choice and were both attentive and appreciative. One of the chief miseries of an inmate's life is boredom, or so my friends who have been in prison have told me. Prison life is deadly routine, punctuated by occasional and relatively infrequent violence. You will find yourself doing things it had never before occurred to you to do, just to keep from being bored completely out of your skull. Things like attending poetry readings.

Things, even, like writing poetry.

The facility in which I was, happily, not incarcerated but was in long enough to read a couple of my poems, and listen to a couple of other people read theirs, was a women's prison in the southern United States.* I was visiting a friend who lived nearby, taught English at the local college, and had started a summer poetry workshop at the prison. Most of the women who participated in the workshop had never attempted poetry before, but my friend had inspired them to try, and the results were impressive. Probably this isn't surprising; people who are in prison have generally led interesting lives before they arrived there, lives full of emotional complexity. Poetry presents an opportunity to give expression to that complexity, and imprisonment gives you plenty of time to reflect on it. Anyway, every woman who'd joined the workshop selected one of her poems to include in a collection, which my friend published. The title of the collection was Kites – the word being a slang term for notes passed secretly among prisoners or from prisoners to someone who would deliver them to someone else on the outside. Bits of paper that could fly over cell blocks and walls.

My copy of Kites, I'm sorry to say, has long been lost, probably in one of my many moves since that summer. But I remember a few of the poems and the names of some of the poets. Actually, I remember word for word one line, in a poem entitled "Church Ladies on Visitors' Day" (or something close to that). The poet's first name was Ruby, and the line remains one of my favorite lines of poetry ever: "You giggling batch of pop-eyed bitches."

I remember Ruby for something else, too. At that reading I mentioned above, I'd read what I thought was the best poem I'd written so far, which was also the first one I'd really been serious about writing, the one I felt was somehow the beginning of my enterprise as a writer. And, as I told the audience when I introduced it, I had no idea why I'd chosen the images in the poem, no idea what it was really about. After the reading, we – readers and prisoners – were folding and stacking chairs, and Ruby said she thought she knew what it meant, if I'd like to hear her idea. I told her okay, and she explained my poem to me. My jaw dropped. She was absolutely right, and I'd never have known if she hadn't told me. Well, she said, it was like a quote she'd heard from Winston Churchill: "How can I know what I think until I see what I say?"

I've since read that maybe it wasn't Churchill who said that. But, whatever… there's a lot of truth in it whoever said it. Ruby eventually finished serving her time, was released, and she and my friend stayed in touch for quite a while. I think about her often and wonder what she's up to these days. I wish her well. …………….

Not every poem written by a prisoner comes out of a poetry workshop. Most, in fact, over the years and centuries, probably have not. Thomas Malory wrote Le Morte d'Arthur while he was imprisoned, back in the 16th century. Oscar Wilde wrote The Ballad of Reading Gaol soon after his release from prison, where he served two years for "homosexual offences," in 1897. And countless poets, some anonymous, have written verse, serious or funny, while behind bars. Some of these poems have survived in writing, no doubt, and others have lived for a while in the oral tradition, memorized and passed along by the poets' fellow prisoners.

In the 1950s or '60s, my husband heard and memorized a poem, author anonymous, that a friend of his had in turn heard and memorized while he was incarcerated in an Indiana prison. I've done Internet searches, hoping to find that someone along the line had written the poem down and someone else had posted it. My searches have been to no avail, and while the poem probably isn't going to challenge Le Morte d'Arthur or The Ballad of Reading Gaol for pride of place among prison poems, we've decided it deserves not to be forgotten. So I've written it down as my husband remembers it, and here it is:

The Ballad of Jimmy LaRue

Some strange, weird tales have come out of jails, And many of them are true, But the strangest I've heard was told by a bird Who called himself Jimmy LaRue.

We shared a cell in a Midwest 'tel. He was doing ten days for vag, And this boy warmed up like a homeless pup When I gave him a tailor-made fag.

You see, he was broke, and there's three in a smoke, And it seemed to suit him all right. It started him back on memory's track. Here's the tale he spun that night.

"I was doing ten in a Midwest pen, And my bunker was slated to fry. He was one of a mob who had pulled a job, And the law said that he must die.

"His buddy had squealed, and then appealed For mercy for helping the state, But they evened the score by giving him four When he thought he'd get the gate.

"They made this squealer a potato-peeler And put him in Cell Block Three, And the other guy, who was slated to fry, They put in a cell with me.

"Well, the time was set, and I'll never forget The night that he said goodbye. He wanted to chat with that lousy rat. He was just that kind of a guy.

"He wanted to shake the hand of the snake Who had sold his life away, But the warden said 'Nix – I'm leery of tricks. The Governor might give you a stay.'

"It was four o'clock in the death-house block, And the guards were strapping him in. A murmured prayer for the man in the chair Asked God to forgive him his sin.

"The lights in our cell, they flickered a spell, And he knew his buddy was dying, That his soul was hurled to an unknown world At the cost of a quitter's lying.

"He let out a yell like a scream from hell. It echoed through Cell Block Three. 'Cut it out!' he cried. 'I lied! I lied! Oh, God, it's killing me!'

"Well, you know the rest – this rat went west. He died as the lights came on. And I, Jimmy LaRue, helped bury the two In the light of the cold, bleak dawn."

(I especially love the first two lines – an example of sly innuendo if ever there was one. I hope that if you like "The Ballad of Jimmy LaRue" you'll pass it on. Maybe even put a tune to it and sing it.) ………………

*I was definitely the amateur in this group of poets. The other two who read were LaVerne Hanners, the friend I was visiting, whose Girl on a Pony is a classic memoir of the American West in the 1930's; and Lorenzo Thomas, poet, critic, and teacher extraordinaire.

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pcsvidcn-blog · 7 years ago

Note

do all of them for your fave xo

📖 for what my muse would write about yours in their diary.

❝ 15 june, 2017 01:27 a.m. pstmarin county. but they’re all starting to blur together, at this point. i know i should pay more attention, i’m not an idiot ( thought i can think of a few people who might disagree…. i digress ), but it’s like i look out into the crowds or glance around the room and there’s nothing to tell apart. should i be concerned about that ? dad’s already lost iz, he doesn’t deserve to lose both of his children, right ? does he ? am i being too naïve, too short-sighted, because it’s not as if any of his policies actually affect me ? i’m so tired of thinking. i just want to float endlessly in the sea. disappear while it’s dark and not come back.

04:52 a.m. psti think i figured it out. it’s iz. they started putting up a wall, not planks of wood but concrete too high to scale without being obvious, without holes to crawl through, between the public beach i used to go to all the time and the private club’s property further up the pch and all i can think is that that’s what’s going to happen to us. i’ll see her less and less and less and then i won’t see her at all. god. i don’t want that to happen. i don’t want to lose her. i don’t want to lose anyone but i especially can’t lose her. we’re always shared everything and i don’t know what it’s like to share nothing. i have to call her. i’m going to do that. as soon as we’re both awake. go down to the public beach and have drinks and go out as the tide comes in and find what lies under the tide pools.

05:00 a.m. pstdad and iz. the ocean and the shore. i don’t know how i can be torn in so many different directions at once and still survive. i know i can’t do it much longer. i need to decide. i need to be truthful with iz and dad and mom and myself for once in my goddamn life. i need to get this weight off me. i need to do something.

fuck, i need to sleep. ❞

📷 for what my muse would say to the paparazzi about yours.

❝ not funny. not even slightly. that’s my sister, that’s my family, take a moment and think about what you would feel if someone was screaming obscenities about your sister, or your brother, or your mom while all these lights are flashing in your face. just think about it. step back. i know you’d love to get pics of a gubernatorial candidate’s son swinging at you and you’d love for me to hit you or smash up your camera so you can sue, but that’s not going to happen. i’m going to ask you, politely, to never call izzie macnair that again, but if you cowards want to, say it to her face and see if you survive. ❞

💋 for what my muse would say to the person trying to woo your muse.

❝ you have to take it slow with izzie, there’s nothing she loves more than waiting for a relationship to grow. no dramatic gestures, no professions of love or anything like that. she hates surprises and she hates presents, you can’t get her anything, she wants to buy everything for herself and would probably stop answering your calls if you tried to buy her so much as dinner or flowers. it’s simple, really, think of all the things you think she would like, and then reverse it, because that’s how she works. doesn’t make sense ? do people ever make sense ? does anything ever make sense ? oh, one other thing, she loves long, long beards with crumbs stuck in them. she’s got a thing for them. ❞

17:04 jamie macnair 📲 lizard : some fool asked me for advice on ‘ wooing ’ you17:21 jamie macnair 📲 lizard : sorry if you actually liked them

🔪 for the eulogy my muse would give for yours.

❝ this is never a place where you want to be standing. it feels impossible to do my sister justice with words alone, which is one of the reasons why i wanted to speak to you all here, surrounded by one of her favourite things in the entire world, art, with the people she loved most, and maybe we can all feel the excitement and the joy and the love she felt standing in this gallery. when we were at our grandmother’s funeral when we were younger, someone told me ‘ funerals are for the living ’ for the first time. i was offended, then, because the day was clearly about my grandmother down to the hymns and verses chosen and the cathedral we sat in in boston, but i understand it now. we are the living. this is for us. and it is extraordinarily painful and i half-expect that she’s faked her own death to avoid some unwanted suitor or a rabid debt collector or because she’s going to make a performance art piece out of this movie — then she’ll really be dead, because i’ll kill her myself— but when i sit too long in silence i understand, too, that she has moved on no matter how much i loved her. and i want to celebrate her, and celebrate our lives with her, free from everything that can ever make a person suffer, unless she’s in hell, which is a very real possibility, and i want to remember her now. i want to tell every story i told her, every story she told me, every story we both starred in. i can’t promise i won’t break down, and i can’t promise i won’t run to the bathroom at some point and never come back, but i want to try. if you have something to say, please, please, come stand beside me, please tell us what you remember about her. ❞

💌 for a letter my muse would write to yours.

❝ 2 april, 2013 hey iz. so, this is hong kong. victoria harbour to be specific. i tried to find the postcard with the most pictures on it, but none of them could really capture how vibrant this city is, it’s so alive that if you stand still for even a moment you’re going to miss something. mom hates it, probably, but she grew up in boston, so does she even understand culture ? haha. i’m kidding. she’s reading this over my shoulder. we miss you so much ! but we hope you’re having fun without us. knowing you, you probably are. just try not to forget your dear old family, climbing mountains and eating the most amazing food in the world. two words: hawker fare. two more: dim sum. one more: noodles.

seriously, i think you and i are going to have to come back to hk ourselves, maybe backpack around asia, because i’d love to see thailand too. there’s this ngo in thailand i’ve been researching, i think you’d love it too, it’s for children who are victims of labour and sex trafficking, there are a bunch of homes for them scattered across cambodia and thailand and they always need volunteers. maybe in the summer? i’ll remind you later. and send a bunch of links, you can check it out for yourself.

i’m running out of space, but i love and miss you iz, you’re killing it and i’m so proud of you, i’ll see you in a few days ! expect for all three of us to crash the second we land. you might have a dead family for a few days. love you !!! jamie ❞

📫 for a letter my muse would write about yours to a third party.

❝ james macnair 12:11 pm (4 weeks ago)

hey dad—

quick note before you start writing your remarks for tonight.i talked to izzie. she doesn’t want anything to do with the rest of the campaign, and i think your time is wasted trying to get her back in. it probably looks better for you to have a politically split family in california, it draws in the liberal family vote you’ve been courting recently and could sway some of the more dead-set liberal voters if you let her say what she wants to say. �� more liberal by association ’, something like that.

see you really soon, dad. thanks, your son

the information contained in this e-mail message is intended only for the personal and confidential use of the recipient(s) named above. if you have received this communication in error, please notify us immediately by e-mail, and delete the original message.❞

📨 for a text my muse would send to yours.

23:44 jamie macnair 📲 lizard : iz, hear me out, come on.23:46 jamie macnair 📲 lizard : asmr is weird but this is actually really good, i fell asleep like four videos in. it’s just this japanese person ( we never see their face ) cooking with no background music or talking and it’s just really bizarrely calming. 19:46 jamie macnair 📲 lizard :https://youtu.be/3ATRf32cocg19:47 jamie macnair 📲 lizard : now, i do still love me some ocean sounds volume xiii, ….

💬 for a text my muse would send to yours to a third party.

14:08 jamie macnair 📲 [ PRIVATE] : so i was thinking we go all out, get a bunch of those gold balloons shaped like letters to spell out ‘ i z z i e ’ , i’ll probably have to buy two hundred bottles of chambord and moët, i haven’t decided on catering or whether i’ll just make everything myself but i think i can get shojin out for menu planning, obviously we have to have lots of flowers, i think there’s a place out in studio city of all place that’s known for their orchid arrangements. and venue, obviously, we need to nail down a venue as soon as possible. i’m thinking the house in hollywood hills. maybe. there’s also that estate in palisades that always feels like it’s haunted.14:18 jamie macnair 📲 [ PRIVATE] : is this too much ??? 14:20 [ PRIVATE ] 14:23 jamie macnair 📲 [ PRIVATE] : yeah, you’re right. cut the flowers. but i can still get a few bouquets right ???

💀 for what my muse would say upon hearing about your muse’s death.

❝ no. no, check again, you have to be wrong. i want to see someone else, i want someone else to check, let me check, please, just let me check, she was just— no. no, no, no. no. please don’t touch me. please. please just let me— i have to— no, no, i can’t, she isn’t gone. no. no. ❞

👪 for what my muse would say to your muse’s child about them.

❝ hi, baby. hi — yes, izzie, i have to be shirtless, it’s good for bonding, they do it in scandanavian hospitals— i’m going to be the coolest uncle ever, alright ? bonding early is a necessary part of that— lay off me, i’m trying to talk to my new best friend— that’s your mommy, we’re fighting. i think i just won. oh, baby, where do i even begin ? you’re so beautiful. wow, i. wow. i can’t believe you’re here. finally. you look just like your mommy too. i have so much to tell you, baby. let’s go over here, let’s let iz sleep, she worked hard. where do you want me to start ? all my sagest wisdom from these long years i’ve spent on earth ? your mom’s deepest secrets ? do you want to hear about your family ? i know. why don’t i sing you something, let’s sit down here.

i see trees of green, red roses too, i see them bloom for me and you, and i think to myself, what a wonderful world…. ❞

👊 for what my muse would say upon hearing yours has been arrested.

❝ how much is your bail ? i’ll do my best to keep mom and dad from finding out, but i can’t guarantee anything, iz. i’ll be right over, i’ve got to go get a lawyer from that firm dad has on retainer. don’t argue, i don’t have time to find you a nice liberal attorney, you’re in jail. i’m not even gonna ask what you’ve done this time, so don’t try and tell me, i don’t want to be an accomplice. was it for a good cause, at least ?❞

💒 for the toast my muse would give at your muse’s wedding.

❝ now, as most of you know, i’m izzie’s older brother. some might say ‘ twin ’, but i prefer ‘ older brother ’ because i was born almost a full hour before her and because fraternal twins share about the same amount of dna as ordinary siblings. i’m a doctor, i know these things. but, i have to confess, it would be a glaring omission if i kept ignoring ‘ twin ’. for the first few months of our existence were were packed in very small together, and once we were born, we just kept sharing everything. we shared rooms, even when our parents bought houses with more than enough of them, we shared friends, we shared toys, and, i think, we shared a soul, a heart. we still do, despite how drastically different we appear. i’m quieter than you, iz, and the fact that you probably want to argue about what i’m about to say just proves my point further. i leave a lot smaller mark. but when i’m passionate about something, my passion is as wide and infinite and deep as the pacific, it is the pacific, and there is only one other person in the world whose passion is like that too: my sister. you’re extraordinarily lucky to be the person she loves, and i hope you know that. if you don’t, i’m coming after you.

now, if i was to give you evidence of all of izzie’s passions, not just her new partner, we would be here for a few more hours. i read online that wedding toasts are supposed to have embarrassing anecdotes about the person you’re toasting, and i think it’s safe to say that as izzie’s older brother, her twin brother, i have more than anyone else who’s going to be toasting after me. but i think i’ll spare her tonight, mostly because i want her to keep loving me instead of turning that love to passionate hate. instead, i want to remind her of a time we thought we’d never survive, when it seemed we were on opposing sides and we would never find our way back. iz, i’m so glad we made it. i’m so proud of you. i love you. i wish you the utmost happiness and i would kill to be an uncle, at this point. to my partner in crime. to izzie. ❞

#iconic #izziemvcnair #ask #that's the asmr i watch to fall asleep dvnscoaneks #IZZIE:｡.#「 meme. 」❜+:｡.#i copied my boss' email footer gotta lov lawyers #long post

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papermoonloveslucy · 7 years ago

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Lucy and Paul Winchell

S5;E4 ~ October 3, 1966

Synopsis

Lucy convinces ventriloquist Paul Winchell to appear at the Annual Banker's Banquet. When Winchell is running late, he asks Lucy to stop by and pick up his dummies. When she accidentally leaves them in a taxi the understudy 'dummy' has to go on – Lucy!

Regular Cast

Lucille Ball (Lucy Carmichael), Gale Gordon (Theodore J. Mooney)

Mary Jane Croft (Mary Jane Lewis) does not appear in this episode but Lucy does have a phone conversation with her.

Guest Cast

Paul Winchell (Himself) was born Paul Wilchinsky in 1922. Coming into the public eye in 1948, he became one of the most famous ventriloquists since Edgar Bergen. He hosted the enormously popular children's television show “Winchell-Mahoney Time” (1964-68) in which he shared the spotlight with Jerry Mahoney, one of his most popular characters. Sadly, in a legal dispute over the syndication rights to the show, all nearly 300 episodes were destroyed. Winchell is fondly remembered as the voice of Winnie the Pooh's pal Tigger and (later) Papa Smurf. He returns to “The Lucy Show” to play Doc Putnam in two linked episodes, “Main Street U.S.A.” (S5;E17) and “Lucy Puts Main Street on the Map” (S5;18), as well as doing two episodes of “Here's Lucy.” Surprisingly, Winchell was also an inventor who is credited with the artificial heart, among other innovations. He died in 2005.

Snitchy the Snail appeared with Winchell on “The Dick Van Dyke Show” six months before this “Lucy Show” appearance.

Tessie Mahoney was Jerry's platinum blonde cousin. She was named after Winchell's wife Tessie Nina Moore. Many accused Tessie of just being Jerry Mahoney in drag! Like Winchell, Tessie was from Brooklyn (and sounded it).

Jerry Mahoney (above left) was 'born' around 1935. He was Paul Winchell's co-host on “Winchell-Mahoney Time.” Jerry Mahoney was named after Winchell's grade-school teacher, who encouraged him to pursue ventriloquism. He was carved by Chicago-based figure maker Frank Marshall. The original Marshall-carved Jerry Mahoney is now 'living' at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington DC.

Knucklehead Smiff (above right) was 'born' in 1951, sculpted by Winchell from a copy of Jerry Mahoney's head. He co-starred with Winchell and Jerry Mahoney on “Winchell-Mahoney Time” and many other shows. Like Jerry Mahoney, he now resides at the 'Smiffsonian' Institution, although neither are currently accepting visitors!

Sid Gould (Show Announcer Voice) made more than 45 appearances on “The Lucy Show,” all as background characters. He also did 40 episodes of “Here’s Lucy.” Gould (born Sydney Greenfader) was Lucille Ball’s cousin by marriage to Gary Morton.

Gould performed this same kind of uncredited voice over introduction when “Lucy and George Burns” (S5;E1) performed together.

Marge, a voice on Lucy's intercom is uncredited, as is the female voice of the long distance operator. Marge was also the name of Lucy Carmichael's sister, a character seen in “Lucy's Sister Pays a Visit” (S1;E15).

Having Paul Winchell as a guest star was Lucille Ball's attempt to attract younger viewers to “The Lucy Show.”

Lucille Ball seems to be having occasional vocal problems during this episode.

Upon meeting Paul Winchell, Lucy says “I always read your column” mistaking him for journalist Walter Winchell. Paul Winchell quickly corrects her. She then says “I just get hysterical watching you and Charlie McCarthy” mistaking her for ventriloquist Edgar Bergen. Again, Winchell quickly corrects her. Walter Winchell (1897-1972) was the narrator of Desilu's “The Untouchables” and did the same function for a parody episode on “The Lucy Show” titled “Lucy the Gun Moll” (S4;E25). Edgar Bergen (1903-1978) appeared with Lucille Ball in the 1941 film Look Who's Laughing.

Lucy explains the bank's interest rates to Paul Winchell:

Lucy gave away toasters for new savings accounts back in Danfield when “Lucy Takes a Job at the Bank” (S2;E21).

In the previous episode, “Lucy the Bean Queen” (S5;E3) Lucy was redecorating her apartment. The reveal is delayed as this episode has no scenes taking place in Lucy’s home.

Mr. Mooney returns to the office after failing to find a celebrity to entertain at the Bankers Annual Banquet show. Bob Hope is doing a show for the Girl Scouts in Pismo Beach; Jack Benny is on a tour of Fort Knox; Dean Martin just had an operation to remove a brass rail pressing on his foot. All three of these performers have guest starred on “The Lucy Show.” Pismo Beach was thought to be a funny sounding name and was often used as a punch line in comedy. Fort Knox is an Army base in Kentucky where much of the nation's gold supply is held, so the reference trades on Jack Benny's characterization of a being a miser. Dean Martin's comic persona was that of a heavy drinker, so the reference is to the foot rail found at bars.

Lucy: Oh, gee, aren't there any other movie actors you could call? Mr. Mooney: Yes, yes, but they're all too busy running for public office.

Mr. Mooney is likely referring to Ronald Reagan, who ran for Governor of California in 1966 and won (after this episode aired). He held office until 1975 before setting his sights on the Presidency. In 1980 he was elected 40th President of the United States, an office he held until 1989. His screen acting career began in 1937 and lasted right up until he became Governor. Reagan appeared with Lucille Ball on two episodes of “The Ed Sullivan Show” in the mid-1950s.

Paul Winchell gets a phone call from someone named Gary asking him to play golf. This is probably and inside joke about Production Consultant (and Lucille Ball's husband) Gary Morton's fondness for playing golf.

In the opening scene at Paul Winchell's home, his character Irving Think (a mouse) is standing next to the telephone and Ozwald (with another figure's head attached) is propped up on the sofa. Ozwald was a commercially available doll resembling Humpty Dumpty that required the user to paint eyes and a nose on his or her own chin and hang the puppet upside down to create the character.

After Winchell offers to lend Lucy one of his dummies, Lucy and the episode enters (what Winchell later calls) “the twilight zone.” Winchell's most famous dummies, Jerry Mahoney and Knucklehead Smiff, become animated on their own, without any help from Winchell (although he may still be providing the voices live). It is a surreal moment for a show that tries to keep one foot in a somewhat farcical version of reality (except perhaps for “Lucy the Superwoman” S4;E26).

Lucy describes her boss as Diamond Jim Mooney after Winchell says he sounds like “the last of the big spenders.” James Buchanan Brady (1856–1917) was an American businessman, financier and philanthropist of the Gilded Age who had a particular affinity for precious stones and jewelry. His had a longtime relationship with actress and singer Lillian Russell. At one point, a TV biopic was planned starring Jackie Gleason with Lucille Ball as Russell, but it never came to pass.

Jerry Mahoney and Knucklehead Smiff have a food fight with spaghetti, eggs, and cream pies, something they often did on “Winchell-Mahoney Time.”

Mr. Mooney gets a telephone call from his boss, Mr. Cheever, a character who won't actually appear until the end of the season (played by Roy Roberts).

Although Lucille Ball was game to conquer any comic task the writers created for her, becoming an accomplished ventriloquist in a week was a tall order, so Mrs. Carmichael's lips move when manipulating the dummy she borrows from Paul Winchell as workplace therapy.

The Bankers Annual Banquet and Show is being held at the Beverly Ritz Hotel. Backstage there is a Fallout Shelter sign. After the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1961 (the beginning of the 'Cold War' between Russian and the United States), President Kennedy instructed that sturdy large-capacity structures be designated fallout shelters in case of attack. The yellow and black sign with three triangles inside a circle was used to alert the public that the building was designated such a structure. The saloon door scenery used in the silent movie sketch of “Lucy Meets Mickey Rooney” (S4;E18) is also there, although the painted side is turned away from the camera.

As Tessie Mahoney, Lucy suggests that they sing “Your Dime is My Dime” because they are performing for an audience of bankers. This is a pun on the song “My Time is Your Time” written by Leo Dance and Eric Little in 1924. It was made famous by Rudy Valle who guest starred as himself on “Lucy Takes a Cruise to Havana” (1957), the first “Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour,” and does so again in a 1970 episode of “Here's Lucy.”

Winchell (voicing Lucy / Tessie and himself) sings “What Does This Audience Want?” an original song written especially for this episode. The lyrics reference Milton Berle, who appeared in “Lucy Saves Milton Berle” (S4;E13).

Callbacks!

Ventriloquist Max Terhune played himself in "Ricky Loses His Temper” (ILL S3;E19). Terhune was a skilled vaudevillian who specialized in ventriloquism. On the Orpheum Circuit his dummy was known as Skully Null but was re-named Elmer Sneezeweed in the movies. Terhune was listed as one of the top ten money-making stars in Westerns for 1937, 1938 and 1939, appearing as Max ‘Alibi’ Terhune in a string of B-movie 'oaters.’

Actually a call forward – to the stage and film musical Chicago in which a woman (Roxie Hart) becomes a ventriloquist's doll during the musical number “We Both Reached for the Gun.” Here, Lucy takes on the persona of Tessie Mahoney, sitting on Paul Winchell's knee wearing a platinum blonde wig and pink dress singing “What Does This Audience Want?”

Blooper Alerts

Paul Winchell wants to open a savings account at Westland Bank. Although certainly this is within the bounds of reality, it is likely that a big star like Paul Winchell would have his finances administered by a Business Manager and would not be going to a local bank for a savings account.

Mr. Mooney's Dictaphone explodes just by Lucy touching it.

None of Lucy's file cabinets are labeled. With Lucy's wacky filing system it doesn't really matter anyway!

“Lucy Meets Paul Winchell” rates 4 Paper Hearts out of 5

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inordinant · 8 years ago

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True Story

Hey @sixpenceee

My name's Nick, I'm 23 and I'm from Southwest Florida, Naples/Fort Myers area. I grew up out on a farm until I was about 8 or 9 and then we moved into town. My dad was in mortgages and firmly believed (and still does) in the power of real estate as an investment.

Consequently, we were constantly buying old houses, refurbishing them while we lived in them and then flipping them for a profit.. only to reinvest the entire sum plus MORE debt into yet another "flip". Follow this to its logical conclusion and we eventually were living in a huge house way bigger than we needed!

We moved into the house in 2007. The owners were really old rich folk (they founded Piggly Wiggly food stores) and they actually built the house themselves, modeled after a French governor's mansion they saw whilst on vacation in Europe. They literally bought the floor plans from him and duplicated the house. (Flat roof and all, and here in rainy Florida that caused a whole host of issues, not the point of this story though.) It was built around 1950 in the far back of the development and the driveway was over a halfmile long. There were no streetlights leading up to the house, just a single cottage light by the mailbox. The house is all one story and was built out to the nines. Huge covered patio, marble floors, chandeliers in every room, wooden pillars throughout, fluer de lis crown moulding, the works.

We lived there for about 2 years until the economy was completely collapsed and we couldn't afford the payments anymore. At this time the house fell into foreclosure and we purchased another house which we moved into. The house then sat vacant for about 2 1/2 years with a few instances of break-ins. The bank was never able to furnish the note to prosecute my parents foreclosure, thereby stalling the process. My parents saw this as an opportunity to live rent-free for awhile and we sold our nice, new, appropriately sized house to move back into the unnecessarily larger (the place was 8500 square feet and we used maybe 1/3 of it) home now riddled with mold, insects and the like.

Needless to say the 2 acre yard was now completely overgrown, vines and ivy latticed the exterior of the once-exquisitely manicured mansion and it had fallen into severe disrepair. Now it looked like a straight up haunted house. Couple that with the fact that we couldn't afford repairs or landscaping at the time (outside of what I could do with a push mower) and the fact that there were all sorts of weird noises throughout the house at all hours, it was creepy AF.

So one morning at about dawn I wake up with a start. It sounds like a car horn and an extremely loud dog bark exploding behind my irises simultaneously, and I rocket away from slumber. (Later I learned this is called Exploding Head Syndrome) I look at my phone, about 6:10am. The full-wall window behind my bed is completely fogged over, with an ethereal mist illuminated only by the first peeking rays of the sun unfurling into the rose bushes. I try to shake it off, but I have this feeling of cold and impending danger. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing on end and adrenaline was hammering through my veins. I could feel my blood thicken and the frantic grip of panic attempt to set in.

My logical mind chimes in, "calm down, it was only a dream! You're awake now, everything is fine!" However, this fantastical assertion was repelled by every figment of my intuition, my emotional side monumentally insisting that this danger was real, it was here and it was coming for me.

I decide to vacate my bed and put on a pot of coffee, all hopes of returning to sleep having vanished with my peace of mind. I half-heartedly pulled on a shirt to accompany my pajama pants and opened the pocket door that led away from my bedroom. The door opens into an extended hallway, on one side the walk-in pantry and on the other side is the laundry room. The laundry room is also lined in windows and the dim grey morning light spills out from underneath the door frame, only barely illuminating the hallway from the floor and creating a myriad of shadows.

I step into the dark tunnel slowly and with a growing feeling of dread. The cold feeling within me has sunken deeper, from a superficial chill to a deep freeze that I feel into my bones. Every step brings me closer to the end of the hallway, with a matching pocket door that slides open into the butlers pantry that leads into the kitchen. As I cross the floor, my heart beat leaps to a hundred miles an hour as I hear a huge crash from the pantry. Terrified, I spin on my heels to look behind me for the apparition that caused this when I realize it was the broom falling over. I had actually knocked it over as I passed, tracing my hand along the wall absent-mindedly, though in my state of mind it hadn't even registered.

Cursing myself for being so jumpy and paranoid, I turn back to the door to the kitchen, most of my feeling of dread washing away in the relief of being scared by a broom, my mind rationally registering that I was being ridiculous. Refocused on my morning brew, I slid open the pocket door to the kitchen to a sight that both amazed and terrified me.

As the last person to go to sleep the night before (Tumblr has that effect on me), I remembered leaving the kitchen as usual. Slightly disarrayed, dishes near the sink but everything else had been normal.

The scene that now lay before me was a caustically different one. Keep in mind that just like everything in this house, the kitchen was enormous. There were dozens of cabinets both above and below the countertop and dozens of drawers along both sides of the kitchen and within the island.

To my puzzlement, every single cabinet and every single drawer was open. Not in a way that suggested we had been robbed, no, this was much more disturbing. Every single one was open to an exact right angle. The drawers were all pulled open to the exact same length. The cabinet doors were not touching, as they would had they been open carelessly.

This was very meticulous. This was purposeful. This was meant to send a message. They're here. They may be friendly, they may not be.. but either way there is a presence here.

I thought, "NOPE", forsook the coffee and walked back into my room. I paced around my room for a minute and once I wasn't in the room anymore I decided I was being silly. I was sure someone else must have done this as a prank, or maybe it had something to do with the air pressure or mercury retrograde or who knows what else. I resolved, cabinets or no cabinets, drawers or no drawers, to walk back into the kitchen.

When I got there, all of the cabinets and drawers were closed again.

I hadn't shut the doors leading down the hallway to my room and if someone had walked in and shut them all I would definitely have heard them from where I had been.

As I took in this scene, for some reason, it struck me as oddly funny. That an earthbound spirit would spend it's time doing this made me laugh, and as a giggle burst forth from me I felt the cold despair that had been emanating from and into me lift away. That's when I knew our house was haunted. I tried telling a few people but after I didn't get anybody to believe me I stopped.

We ended up moving out of the house a few months later once the foreclosure finally went through, and I didn't have any experiences immediately after that or since.

I figured this would be a good way to get my story heard, so I hoped you enjoy this submission!

This story is completely true and I give @sixpenceee permission to repost it.

Yours, Nick

P.S. Please message me if you decide to publish my story! 😁

#creepypasta #sixpenceee #top stories #short story

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billcoberly · 8 years ago

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The Silliest Take of the Week: 1/29/17

Three weeks going! I’m already beating the odds I gave myself in my description of this project.

Let’s get right to it! We’ve got some nice, spicy takes here this week.

Silliest Twitter Meltdown, Unless It’s Ironic Performance Art, In Which Case: Best Twitter Ironic Performance Art

Tim Marchman, A Short Series of Tweets, Twitter, 1/24/2017

This probably isn’t technically a Silly Take, but given that it exists at the intersection of Silly Internet Things; Political Nonsense; and Internet Tough Guy Posturing, I think it’s well within the #STOW ambit.

Apparently Senator Ted Cruz has organized a weekly-ish basketball game with some other Senators. Ex-Gawker sportsblog Deadspin thought this was funny, and asked for photographic proof of Ted Cruz playing basketball, which is a very Deadspin thing to do. Ted Cruz (or a social media manager working for Ted Cruz, but who cares) responded to a tweet about this with a picture of Duke University basketball player Grayson Allen, who looks sort of like Cruz. Deadspin’s social media person responded in typical Deadspin style:

Ted Cruz in turn responded with an Anchorman gif (”Boy, that escalated quickly!”) and that should probably have been it.

But for Deadspin editor Tim Marchman, this was Too Much, Too Far, and Not Acceptable. (Please note that Marchman is not the one who drafted the initial call for pictures of Senator Cruz playing basketball). Instead, Tim Marchman gave us a series of nine tweets, the most important of which are below:

Now, a part of me hopes that this is Mr. Marchman being deliberately ridiculous in order to take the heat off of a woman (Ms. Feinberg, who drafted the original call for pictures) who was undoubtedly getting a disproportionate and awful amount of hate from Dudes on the Internet, who are, let there be no mistake, The Worst. If that’s the case, then good work, Mr. Marchman, and I apologize.

But I just want to revel for a moment in the gloriousness of “Unsurprising that not one Ted Cruz-supporting cuck/Twitter user is willing to face me in the UFC octagon.” I don’t know if I could find a better way to distill the silliness that is Internet Tough Guy Posturing into <140 characters. If Marchman is being ironic, then I admire his precision. My guess is that he’s not being ironic, given that 100% of the 11 tweets on his twitter feed consist of him whining about this dustup and two contextless RTs of weird things Curt Schilling once said.

Also, as always happens with Internet Tough Guy Posturing, and as several right-wing websites were happy to point out, some people who are apparently Actual Soldiers And/Or UFC Fighters and who like Ted Cruz have offered to take Marchman up on his challenge.

Don’t engage in Internet Tough Guy Posturing, folks. You look silly, and there’s always somebody out there who is bigger than you are and willing to call your bluff.

Most Predictably Tiresome Response to Angry Protests

David French, “This Is What Post-Christian Dissent Looks Like,” National Review, 1/27/2017.

People on the Left are very mad about Donald Trump. Previously, people on the Left were comically excited about Barack Obama. This, according to David French, has something to do with the fact that we’re not very Christian any more:

“This is post-Christian politics to its core. This is the politics one gets when this world is our only home, and no one is in charge but us. There is no sense of proportion.”

Finally:

“Eight years ago, all too many on the left thought that light had come into the darkness. Now they believe the darkness has overcome the light. In reality, the false dawn preceded the false dusk. Our Republic is still built to last, and the hysterical reaction threatens to be worse than the man who triggered it.”

I’ve tried to reread this a few times to figure out the connections French wants to make between protests and whatever the hell “post-Christian dissent” is, but all I can get out of this piece is a long, wet raspberry noise. So, in conclusion: shut up, David.

See also George Will, “Trump and academia actually have a lot in common,” The Washington Post, 1/27/2017.

Most Cringe-Inducing Set of Editorial Retractions

Moira Wegel, “How Ultrasound Became Political,” The Atlantic, 1/24/2017

I’m not willing to suggest that this whole article is really a Silly Take -- its thesis is that the development of ultrasound technology was a useful tool for pro-life advocates and lawmakers, particularly in the context of those condescending laws that require doctors to show women ultrasounds of their fetuses before they have an abortion. There may well be some value in this train of thought, and I certainly learned some things reading this article.

That is, I thought I learned some things, until I saw the amazing and ever-growing list of corrections that had to be made to this article after it was published. Now I’m not sure I learned anything from this article, because I’m not sure the author of this article can be trusted to be sure what color the sky is:

“*This article originally stated that there is "no heart to speak of" in a 6-week-old fetus. In fact, the heart has already begun to form by that point in a pregnancy. The article also originally stated that an expectant mother participating in a study decided to carry her pregnancy to term even after learning that the fetus was suffering from a genetic disorder, when in fact the fetus was only at high risk for a genetic disorder. The article originally stated, as well, that Bernard Nathanson headed the National Right-to-Life Committee and became a born-again Christian. Nathanson was active in, but did not head the committee, and was never a born-again Christian, but rather a Roman Catholic. The article originally stated that many doctors in 1985 claimed fetuses had no reflexive responses to medical instruments at 12 weeks. Finally, the article originally stated that John Kasich vetoed a bill from Indiana's legislature, instead of Ohio's legislature, after which the article was incorrectly amended to state that Mike Pence had vetoed the bill. We regret the errors.“

It’s not every day that an article for The Atlantic manages to mix up “born-again” Christians with Roman Catholics, misstate facts about fetal development, and get royally confused about who the governor of Ohio is. A little bit of fact-checking goes a long way, folks.

Biggest Grudge Against an Anodyne Celebrity

Amy Zimmerman, “Taylor Swift’s Spineless Feminism,” The Daily Beast, 1/23/2017

Taylor Swift mostly doesn’t have public political opinions, and Amy Zimmerman has gotten weirdly mad about this before for The Daily Beast. I think about Taylor Swift about as often as I think about throw pillows -- they seem nice enough, and some people seem to have surprisingly strong opinions about them, but I can’t see a lot of need for them in my life. But for Amy Zimmerman, the fact that Taylor Swift hasn’t taken a public position on Donald Trump is a Big Problem that must be Written About At Length.

Look, I have read some legit critiques about Swift’s brand of feminism before, and I’m not really looking to come out swinging for T-Swift. But it’s weird to get this worked up about a pop star’s apparent lack of opinions:

“Courtesy of the Instagram, we learned that Swift endorses democracy and cold-shoulder blouses. But in terms of candidates, it was impossible to deduce if she’d voted for Donald Trump, Hillary Clinton, or Jill freaking Stein.”

who cares who taylor swift voted for, amy

After citing the fact that T-Swift has a small group of neo-Nazi fans who like her because she looks like their ideal woman, Zimmerman says:

“If you’re not overtly on board with the resistance, then you’re tacitly chill with being proclaimed an Aryan goddess.”

Other good moments are when she gets confused about Swift ex-boyfriend Tom Hiddleston’s acting career:

“Tom Hiddleston has played many roles, from Thor to Taylor Swift’s boyfriend.”

And look, this doesn’t matter, but Tom Hiddleston didn’t play Thor. Snark about anodyne celebrities looks even more petty if you can’t be bothered to get basic facts right.

Finally:

“In hindsight, [Hiddleston’s speech] proves that HiddleSwift may have been more compatible than we ever thought. Can’t you just picture the face of watered-down feminism and 2017’s proudest white savior, taking a break from swapping spit to congratulate one another on staying so woke?”

Blech.

The Silliest Take of the Week: 1/29/2017

Filip Bondy, “How Vital Are Women? This Town Found Out as They Left to March,” The New York Times, 1/22/2017.

Here’s the pitch: Filip Bondy wants to show that women are important. This is a good thing: women are important.

Here’s the problem: Filip Bondy wants to show that women are important by highlighting the plights of their poor, abandoned husbands who had to take care of the kids by themselves for --

listen, if you need to take a moment to collect yourself, that’s fine, this is pretty shocking --

these husbands had to take care of their kids for twelve full hours while the women went away to march for some weird chick thing. Can you imagine? Really goes to show how important women are.

Do you think I’m overstating things? Here is the thesis paragraph:

“In their wake, they left behind a progressive bedroom community with suddenly skewed demographics. Routines were radically altered, and many fathers tried to meet weekend demands alone for a change. By participating in the marches and highlighting the importance of women’s rights, the women also demonstrated, in towns like Montclair, their importance just by their absence.”

those poor bastards, having to meet weekend demands alone

“Usually, these chores and deliveries were shared by both parents, in a thoroughly modern way. On this day, many dads were left to juggle schedules on their own.”

the humanity

“Steve Politi, a sports columnist for The Star-Ledger of Newark, missed the Rutgers men’s basketball game on Saturday to stay home with his two children. He did the soccer-game thing, set up play dates (arguably, cheating a bit) and warmed up some leftover pizza for lunch. He also cleaned the refrigerator.”

the refrigerator, Linda, the refrigerator -- I cleaned the goddamn refrigerator while you were marching for uteruses or whatever, I deserve more respect around here

“After his dutiful Saturday, Mr. Coyle went off to play tennis on Sunday morning. It was part of the deal he had struck with his wife.”

a fair and equitable bargain. Mr. Coyle is truly a just sovereign over his household.

“The buses returned late Saturday night from Washington to a quiet, heartfelt welcome. By Sunday morning, most of the women were back to their routines in Montclair. The JaiPure Yoga Studio reported full attendance, and many fathers exhaled in relief.”

“and in that instant, all returned to normal. the seas ceased to boil, the locusts retreated over the horizon, and the wailing of children could no longer be heard. the villagers mourned their dead, but exulted in the knowledge that the women were home, and finally, all would be well again.”

Maybe, just maybe, if you’re trying to write an article about how women are cool and neat and important and Trump is bad, don’t manage to make it sound like men having to stay with their kids for a Saturday is some kind of Great, Heroic Sacrifice.

Thanks for reading! And thanks to Braden, Amanda, Tim, and Joel for submitting Silly Takes. As always, don’t forget to send your favorite ridiculous takes to [email protected], and have a great week!

#STOW #Silliest Take of the Week

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keywestlou · 5 years ago

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CORONAVIRUS NEEDS AND PROTECTIONS A NEW WAY OF LIFE

I would have to guess yesterday was my first day in a true coronavirus lifestyle. It will take a little getting used to.

My day involved banking, shirt laundry stop, Publix, receiving 5 boxes from Comcast, keeping groceries and Comcast delivery, exhausted, took a 3 hour much needed nap, missed TV sports, TV otherwise sucked last night.

I worried about everything I touched. Pruell delivery had not arrived yet.

Publix a disaster.

No carts. Had to wait a few minutes for one. Used Publix’s Pruell to wipe the hand portion down.

It could have been a few days before thanksgiving or Christmas. Publix packed. Aisles crowded. Jammed. Took forever to go up and down. I even ran into a woman pushing her cart. Her ankle. My apologies humbling. She thought the whole thing funny.

More shelves empty. Toilet paper not replenished. Clorox still gone. Tissues scarce. Bottled water less than half the usual supply.

I bought for tomorrow. Spent over $150. Never spend even $100. My freezer is filling up.

When I arrived home, 5 boxes from Walmart waiting on porch.

Unloading the car and bringing in the boxes an effort in itself. I’m too old for all that lifting.

Unpacked and kept everything.

My first Pruell arrived. I Pruelled everything. It came in an 8 inch tall and 5 inch wide container. One for the house and one for the car. Terrific! I smell antiseptic constantly!

I was exhausted. The shopping and keeping things too much. Hit the bed. Slept for 3 hours.

Normally, I do not mind being home evenings. Always some good sports. No more, however. Everything cancelled for the season.

I can live with movies. Especially the old ones. Not one last night any good.

Not the best of evenings! A drink or 2 would have helped.

I e-mailed Sloan yesterday to stop over. I need Sloan to set up the computer for my next Irma and Me. This one to be titled Coronavirus and Me.

Sloan always worries about me. She e-mailed this morning. Not coming. For fear of coronavirus. Not to affect her. Me.

Sloan is manager of the big sport clothing and equipment store that is part of the Margaritaville complex. She wrote she did not want to endanger me in the event she had picked up the virus.

She is going to set it up through her computer. She has access to mine. Then she will walk me through what to do.

Key West lost a giant tuesday. One of international fame.

Seward Johnson died. Eighty nine years old. At his winter home in Key West. Johnson’s home is near the Southernmost Point on South Street.

Johnson’s forte was sculpturing.

Marilyn Monroe in front of the Topic. Johnson’s. Two of the tall sculptures in front of the Custom House in years gone by, also. A couple ballroom dancing in full formal attire. The work based on Renoir’s A Dance at Bougival. Recall Unadulterated Surrender. A bronze version of the famous D-Day newspaper photo of a kiss between a sailor and a nurse.

His works will long be remembered.

May he rest in peace.

Typical Key West weather the next week. In the low 80’s each day.

Simonton Street is finally under repair. From Truman to Front. About time. Long overdue. Sidewalks to be repaired also.

Work started last week or this week. Began at Truman and will work its way toward Front.

The City responsible for the work. Selected the contractors.

I recall when the State repaired North Roosevelt Boulevard. Took forever! The reason being the construction crews did not work every day.

I sense the same thing occurring already with the Simonton Street repairs.

Saw no one working yesterday.

Everyone getting ready for coronavirus in one fashion or another. The question arises as to whether wisdom will prevail in each instance.

It was announced thursday the Lower Keys Medical Center was ready and waiting. Seven rooms had been made ready to serve as isolation rooms.

A problem from my perspective. Enough rooms? Seven a mere pittance. If isolation rooms are needed, it will without doubt be more than 7. Then what do we do?

Key West and the State’s Monroe County Director for Health have not thought the problem out sufficiently. They must think outside the box.

California’s Governor Newscom issued an Executive Order thursday. The State is authorized to take over hotels and motels to use as hospitals if so required during the crisis. Already one motel has been appropriated. The San Carlos. It is being used to care for and isolate passengers from the Grand Princess cruise ship.

One thing Key West has a lot of are hotels and motels. It would not be a bad idea to plan for their usage if necessary.

Insanity! Insanity! Insanity! Man is frequently crazy!

Pedophilia in the Catholic Church bad. No question about it.

How about a government encouraging pedophilia. It happened. In Germany from 1969-2003. The sickening and bizarre sexual experiment about to be described reflects shades of Dr. Mengele.

Lawsuits have been initiated on behalf of the children now adults who were legally placed in pedophile situations.

Specifically involved is the Berlin Senate.

The activity is described as the Kentler Experiment. Helmut Kentler convinced the Berlin Senate that pedophilia could have “positive” consequences on children who were unruly or “feeble minded.” They would benefit from “adult sexual education.”

He convinced the powers to be that children would be “head over heels in love” with their new father figures.

It cannot be ascertained whether the Berlin Senate formally agreed to the situation or approved it behind closed doors.

Whatever, the Berlin Senate has acknowledged its responsibility in these cases. All that remains is for settlements to be negotiated.

An amazing story!

I discussed yesterday the Federal Reserve Repo of $1.5 trillion. The money directed to Wall Street to insure certain banks and other financial institutions would not go under.

Appreciate that $1.5 trillion is an amount equal to the total amount of the student debt, more than twice as much as the original TARP bailout during the 2008 financial crisis, and nearly 30 times the net worth of Michael Bloomberg.

Where does the money come from? The $1.5 trillion? Simple: From thin air. The Fed simply adds some numbers onto a balance sheet and the money is created.

Scary!

The stock market went up 1,980 points yesterday. Based on Trump declaring a national emergency and $50 billion in funding.

It will go down again next week.

No matter what is done, we are heading for a world wide recession.

Many schools have been closed through out the country. New York City has declared an emergency situation. However, its schools remain open.

Mayor de Blasio has an additional problem if he closes the schools. One hundred thousand children are homeless. The only meal most get each day is the one the school system provides free. How do these kids get fed if the school system closes down?

De Blasio smart. He’ll work it out.

Tom Hanks and his wife Rita Wilson have tested positive for coronavirus and are in isolation in Australia. Hanks appears to want to keep people advised as to how he and his wife are handling the problem. I sense to make people aware as to what will confront them if they are similarly diagnosed.

Hanks and wife issued separate statements yesterday. Hanks’ second in the past few days.

Hanks reported, “There are those for whom it could lead to a very serious illness. We are taking it one day at a time. There are things we all can do to get through this by following the advice of experts and taking care of ourselves and each other, no?”

Hanks also wrote, “Not much more to it than a one day at a time approach.”

Hanks’s wife Rita exposed her sense of humor: “From here on out, the only Corona I want is from Mexico and you drink it!”

Enjoy your day!

CORONAVIRUS NEEDS AND PROTECTIONS A NEW WAY OF LIFE was originally published on Key West Lou

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preciousmetals0 · 5 years ago

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Meatless Macs Meet Missile Attacks

Meatless Macs Meet Missile Attacks:

Less Than Feared

The funny thing about stock market sentiment? It applies to literally everything.

For example, today I find myself discussing the bullish and bearish implications of last night’s Iranian missile attack. According to the financial media, Iran’s retaliation for the U.S. killing Qassem Soleimani, a top Iranian military official, was deemed “less than feared.”

Less than feared. It reminds me of “less than expected,” as if the Iranian missile strikes on U.S. military bases in Iraq are in some way similar to corporate earnings reports. And honestly, in a cold and calculated way, they are.

Wall Street clearly expected a much larger response from Iran. Stock futures plunged on the initial news. But after President Trump sounded the “All is well!” on Twitter last night, the situation quickly normalized.

With their minds now somewhat at ease, investors turned toward the ADP and Moody’s Analytics U.S. private payrolls report. According to the report, the U.S. added 202,000 jobs in December, outstripping the expected 150,000 new payrolls. (No, not that kind of “outstripping,” Elon.)

Gauging expectations on bombs and jobs … what a start to the year.

The Takeaway:

On Monday, I half-joked about entering a new market cycle on Wall Street: the Iran War Cycle. I even made a chart for it.

But I never expected it to actually play out. And yet, that’s exactly what happened this week. Monday was a market sell-off on war fears. Tuesday hinted at a resolution (i.e., Trump’s reassurance that everything would be fine), and the market bounced back by the end of the day.

Last night, we were at the “no progress is made” step — right before the Iranian missile attack. The market sold off … until Trump “hinted at a resolution” by stating: “All is well!”

In less than 48 hours, we completed the entire cycle. I don’t think my blood pressure can take months of this like we saw during the trade war cycle.

Clearly, keeping up with this kind of pace is impossible for all but the nimblest of investors. So, what’s an average Joe to do?

If you’ve got the cash and the nerves of steel required to trade the ups and downs of the “Iran War Cycle,” you could attempt to time this market. I wouldn’t recommend it, though. You’re going to eat a lot of Tums.

So, why put yourself through so much stress when there’s a much simpler answer?

The much simpler answer lies with none other than Banyan Hill’s own Charles Mizrahi.

In his Alpha Investor Report, Charles is upfront about showing you where average Joes and Janes often go wrong when investing. Instead of timing some wiggles and jiggles on a chart, Charles targets sound, well-run companies set to soar — no matter what’s going on in Iraq, Iran or Never-Never Land.

For Charles Mizrahi, investing doesn’t get any more complicated than buying the right stocks at the right time … and simply letting your money work for you.

And if this no-nonsense approach strikes a chord with you, you’ll love the wit (and picks) that Charles and company pack into each issue of Alpha Investor Report.

Click here to find out how you can start with Charles’ very next newsletter!

Good (Grief): Another Boeing Crashes

I’m actually starting to feel kind of bad for Boeing Co. (NYSE: BA) at this point. OK, not really…

But my thoughts do go out to the 176 people who died yesterday after a Boeing 737-800 (not a Max) crashed after taking off from Tehran, Iran, on its way to Kyiv, Ukraine.

As of this writing, the cause of the crash is unknown. But the fact that another Boeing aircraft just went down isn’t good for the company’s credibility. Boeing already faces serious production delays for the 737 Max. It’s even considering taking on more debt to pay back both the families and airlines affected by the Max debacle.

If the 800 series is called into question, that puts two of Boeing’s airplanes on the sidelines as its debt levels rise. That’s not a good outlook for any company — I don’t care who you are.

For now, BA shares are down roughly 2%. We’ll have to wait for the investigation on this crash to find out just how severe the ramifications will be this time around.

Better: Drink ’Em If You Got ’Em

Now I need a drink … and apparently most of the country does as well.

Corona importer and wannabe cannabis king Constellation Brands Inc. (NYSE: STZ) reported strong third-quarter results this morning. Earnings topped the consensus estimate by $0.03 per share, and revenue was $50 million better than expected.

Beer was king. Constellation said sales of the adult beverage hit $1.3 billion for the quarter. That’s a lot of beer, and it wasn’t just Corona. The company said that Modelo Especial “grew depletions by almost 15%.” Depletion is brewer jargon for how quickly the beer moves from the distributor to your local retailer.

But beer isn’t the future for Constellation. The company is launching Corona Seltzer later this year to capitalize on the new (and disgusting) “Zima trend” in adult beverages. Apparently White Claw-style drinks are what people want these days, as the company boosted its full-year cash flow expectations and earnings outlook.

Y’all enjoy your alcoholic water. I’m going back to my bourbon now.

Best: The Battle for Meatless McDonald’s

Shares of Beyond Meat Inc. (Nasdaq: BYND) soared more than 12% yesterday. Apparently, the stock was riding the meatless coattails of chief rival Impossible Foods, which unveiled fake pork at the Consumer Electronics Show this week. I wonder if they’ll make an iPhone out of that?

Today, however, Beyond Meat is making its own way higher. Both Impossible and Beyond were fighting for a coveted spot on McDonald’s Corp.’s (NYSE: MCD) menu. That fight is reportedly all but over.

Impossible has pulled out of the McDonald’s competition. “It would be stupid for us to be vying for them right now. … Having more big customers right now doesn’t do us any good until we scale up production,” CEO Pat Brown told Reuters.

Beyond, however, says that talks “are going well.” Apparently, Beyond Meat believes it’ll be able to keep up with production demands for a McMeatless burger.

By the way, McDonald’s is calling the new fake-meat sandwich a PLT, or plant, lettuce and tomato … which makes my head hurt because tomatoes and lettuce are both plants! So, it’s basically a PPP sandwich. But I digress…

After today’s news, BYND shares added another 5% before coming back to earth. Despite this impressive two-day rally, BYND is still 64% away from its July 26 all-time high.

And now for a break from the market:

“We like oranges!” they said. “We promise we’ll eat them,” they said. The three strange gray orbs in the back of my refrigerator this morning said otherwise. My children, dear readers.

Great Stuff Picks: Strike Hard, Strike Fast

The financial media say you missed your chance to chase the run-up in defense stocks where the U.S. and Iran are concerned. That may be true for Raytheon Co. (NYSE: RTN) and Northrop Grumman Corp. (NYSE: NOC), but this is the digital age.

Defense isn’t only about guns, bombs and airplanes anymore. Future war is digital war.

In 2018, there were 1,244 reported data breaches in the U.S. and 446.5 million records exposed. According to Statista, 2018 also saw “16,128 cases of online identity theft and 65,116 cases of non-payment or non-delivery fraud.”

In that same Statista survey, 32.7% of respondents said their online accounts were hacked, but 80% thought that they were very well protected against such online attacks. Now, I’m no math wizard, but those figures just don’t add up.

That’s a potentially costly math mistake, as Cybersecurity Ventures predicts that cybercrime will cost the global economy $6 trillion annually by 2021.

Clearly, it’s past time to invest in those combating this global epidemic. There’s one company that’s poised to not only help take a bite out of cybercrime, but grow considerable returns for your portfolio at the same time.

That company is CrowdStrike Holdings Inc. (Nasdaq: CRWD).

Based out of Sunnyvale, California, CrowdStrike provides a cloud-native endpoint security platform that combines next-gen antivirus, endpoint detection and response, threat intelligence, threat hunting and much more.

That’s a lot of technical jargon that basically means CrowdStrike specializes in cloud-based security threat management, detection and prevention. And, as we all know, the cloud is where everything lives now.

That’s impressive and all, but how are CrowdStrike’s financials? Well, in the past three years, revenue rose more than sixfold. What’s more, since the company’s public-trading debut last year, it’s met Wall Street’s earnings expectations once and beaten twice.

In the most recent quarter, CrowdStrike said subscription revenue surged 98% year over year, with total sales climbing 88%. Now, putting everything on the table, CRWD shares fell in December after the company offered up guidance that was below expectations. But CrowdStrike was being conservative, and it certainly didn’t expect the current situation with Iran.

According to Texas Governor Greg Abbott, state agencies have seen a surge in cybersecurity threats originating from Iran. In fact, Abbott reports that more than 10,000 attempted attacks per minute were detected in the 48 hours just after the U.S. airstrike on Qassem Soleimani.

That’s just insane! It underscores the ever-increasing need for CrowdStrike’s services, and I would expect the company to either lift its guidance in the coming months or blow past Wall Street’s earnings and revenue expectations due to increased demand.

Finally, while CRWD shares rallied in the wake of the Iranian situation, they’re still far below their all-time highs — about 45% below. The stock is also about 29% below analysts’ consensus price target of $78.

In short, CrowdStrike stock is cheap … and unlike that rally in defense stocks that you missed out on, CRWD still has room to run.

The bottom line: Buy CRWD.

Until next time, good trading!

Regards,

Joseph Hargett

Great Stuff Managing Editor, Banyan Hill Publishing

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goldira01 · 5 years ago

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