#la la la something something john goes back for your dog after dinner
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syoddeye · 2 months ago
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I love your writing and literally read your blog like the morning paper. But the brainrot has been rotting and I can’t stop thinking about going on a date with Price and he talks about his three dogs back home and you think it’s so sweet that he loves his pets so much
then he takes you home for the first time and you realize why he complained about how difficult they were to train.
“Meet Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. Why d’you have that look on your face, love?”
jasdhlgjkahg 🧡 thank you, that is so kind. i hope i'm like the funny funny section and not family circus. apologies i don't have the brainspace for a full thing, but—
imagine you meet because he stops to compliment your dog. you're quite obsessed with your little pet. maybe you ramble on about their training and keeping. he mentions he has three of his own.
"wow! you've got your hands full, huh?"
"you could say that."
before you know it, twenty minutes pass and you're typing your number into his archaic non-smartphone. he calls that evening and asks you out for a drink. he seems nice, and he loves dogs, so what's the harm? you've been single for so long.
john's great. better than great, really. a gentleman. intelligent. funny. employed. it's become your custom to exchange little updates on your dogs whenever you meet. he doesn't have pictures to show you (explains he's a little paranoid due to his work. jokes about being an 'endangered species' with his 'dumb' phone.) but he assures you're they're smart, gorgeous, and good with people. really emphasizes that last bit.
"they're for protection and huntin'. took a bit of trainin' in those early years, but now they warm up quick those i deem friendly."
"would that include me?"
"care to find out?"
you suppose it's time to visit his place for once. he picks you up and spends the drive chatting about what he's making for dinner. he mentions that his 'boys' have already eaten, but tend to get underfoot. would you mind playing with them while he cooks? of course! sounds fun.
his property's beautiful. you notice lots of trees and a large fenced area as he takes you up the drive. the dogs must be spoiled with all that room to roam.
it isn't until you step inside, hear a television, and count the shoes in the entryway that a feeling of wrongness sweeps over you. however, john's arm hooks around your waist, and he herds you further inside. he doesn't allow your doubt to keep you at the door.
you want to believe he leaves the television on for the dogs. that he perhaps owns several pairs of shoes
in varying sizes.
but when you round a corner into a living space and see three men draped comfortably on a couch, the realization hits like a pail of cold water. it's the way their heads turn in unison. their slow pan from you to john. the glint of the id tags on their collars.
"meet gaz, soap, and ghost. why d'you have that look on your face, love?"
john chuckles, slips his hand down to squeeze your ass, then pats it playfully. He says he'll start dinner and that he's very thankful you're here to keep them preoccupied.
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bluebird722 · 4 years ago
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Happy Birthday, Lian!
Summary: Rewrite of the episode “Home Fires” (but without the “nuclear weapon” subplot). It’s Lian’s birthday and the first without her mother. Come stress with Will as he goes the extra mile to ensure that his daughter has the best birthday party ever!
Rating: K
Characters: Lian Harper, Will Harper, Roy Harper, Artemis Crock, Jim Harper, Raquel Ervin, Amistad Ervin, Donny Allen, Dawn Allen, Iris West-Allen, Traya Sutton, John Smith, Queen Mera, Artur, Lynn Stewart-Pierce, Jennifer Pierce, Anissa Pierce, Lois Lane, Jonathan Kent, Karen Beecher, and a bunch of OCs!
Author’s Note: Happy birthday, @youngjusticeslut! This is for you, based on this (which, I guess, is something I’m responsible for)! I just figured, why the hell not?
Will stared at the date on his calendar, with a giant red star on the particular date. He had been dreading this day for months, but it was finally coming closer: his daughter’s birthday–or, rather, Lian’s first birthday without her mother. 
He closed his eyes and shook his head. No words could describe how he was feeling. Grief? Anger? Worried? What would Lian say, when she realized that Mommy wasn’t coming to her birthday party? Would it be one of those things in the movies, and Jade would show up unexpectedly, like an army parent coming home as a Christmas gift for their children? It wouldn’t happen, and Will knew it, but it helped to imagine it. In the meantime, he had to plan her birthday party, and he wanted everything to go perfectly. This was his daughter, and she deserved to be happy. 
He had seven million things to do to prepare, he knew, and it was more than just finding the cake and buying decorations and planning games and activities; it involved working late every night for a month to be able to afford the type of party he wanted to give her. He knew so much about heroes because he had been exposed to them all of his existence, and he wanted to give her everything hero: Justice League, Marvel heroes, whatever. He didn’t care. He could probably find a sneaky way to get the whole League to attend her party, or he could dress up as a hero of her choice a la that episode of I Love Lucy. 
A small shuffle of footsteps interrupted Will’s train of thought, and he turned around to see his daughter in pink blanket pajamas. “Daddy
”
“Hey Lian.” He stood up and walked over to his daughter, rubbing her eyes and looking sleepy. “Are you all right?”
Lian patted her stomach. “Tummy ache,” she whispered. 
Will gently lifted her up into his arms and carried her to the kitchen for children’s Tylenol and a glass of water, which she finished. Then he carried her back upstairs and sat her onto her bed. “Why are you up so late, Daddy?”
Will stopped himself from lying that he was working on files and shrugged. “I was getting ideas for your birthday, Lian,” he said. “I know it’s your birthday, and you decide what you want, but I was looking up where to get the cake, the decorations
you know.” He ruffled her hair. “I know I’ve been working a lot, but I just want to be able to get you a fun party.” 
“Okay,” Lian nodded. She grabbed her feet and rolled on her back. “I want a Paw Patrol party.”
Paw Patrol. Will’s heart sank. He knew more about heroes than that TV show that he knew Lian enjoyed, but he never really watched it with her. Apparently, she watched it with her friends from daycare or when she was visiting other friends. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do to get a Paw Patrol birthday party for you–”
“Can we invite my friends?” she asked, tilting her head. “Donny, Dawn, Ani, Khary, Greg, Jenny, Artie–”
“Of course,” he said with a stroke of her hair. “But you better get some sleep now so Daddy can start planning.” 
Lian sank her head back into her pillow, her arms around her Wonder Woman plushy. Will stared at her for a long time before he closed the door behind him.
***
The week before, while Lian was at daycare, he and Artemis raided Party City and got all the decorations, cutlery–everything, all themed to Paw Patrol. They picked up “Pin the Helmet on the Dog”, a giant piñata, and a “Birthday Girl” sash that even if Lian didn’t want to wear, they could place it over her chair. 
He called the other parents in the private parent-child circle and told them the situation: Lian was inviting them to her birthday party, but she wanted to invite friends from daycare, and he couldn’t afford to throw two parties even if he wanted to. The daycare didn’t throw birthday parties anymore due to food allergies. Eventually, after a strenuous group text, everyone agreed that the birthday party would count as the playdate for the month, but those with superpowered children had to ensure that their children would be careful not to expose their abilities to daycare tykes.
Lian was aware, though still upset, that “Grandpa Ollie” and “Grandma Dinah” weren’t going to make it, since they had “an important business meeting”, as Ollie put it, but Will didn’t know if he could believe them; they did promise to have a big birthday dinner for her soon. Of course, Grandmommy Paula couldn’t come, but she promised to mail her present as long as Artemis would film Lian opening her gift. Violet, on the other hand, was going to be at a training session with Dick and the others, and she encouraged Artemis to attend the party; she knew that Artemis wanted to be there anyway, and they could train together later. 
***
Will opened the door, relieved that it was his genetic template, holding what had to be the giant cake in both hands. “Come on in, Roy.”
The human barely closed the door with his hip when a little voice came screaming towards him. “UNCLE ROY! ARE YOU COMING TO MY BIRTHDAY PARTY TOMORROW?!” 
Roy’s ears began to ring almost immediately, and Will loudly shushed his daughter from the kitchen. Still, Roy looked down at the almond eyes that stared into his with a begging look. “Of course I am, kiddo. I’m helping get everything ready.”
Lian giggled and climbed on Roy like a jungle gym. Will took the cake and carried it into the kitchen while Roy spun Lian in a front flip. “Are you ready for dinner soon, chickpea?” he asked. 
Lian nodded eagerly.
“Good,” said Roy, “because the adults and I are getting your party ready, so you will need to go upstairs soon so it will be a surprise tomorrow.”
“Now?” asked Lian. 
“Not right now,” Will said as he took her from Roy’s arms, “but soon.”
The doorbell rang again, and Will welcomed in his fellow clone, who barely had time to walk through the doorway when Lian threw herself at his leg and held tight as he walked in. Jim grinned, knelt down, and pulled her up for a kiss. 
“Isn’t someone’s birthday coming up?” he playfully asked. 
Lian laughed and kicked midair as he positioned her so he supported her up by her chest and stomach. “Oh, look, you’re Wonder Woman,” he said as he made her “fly” midair. “Wee
”
Lian giggled and waved her arms until he set her down and opened the bag dangling from the crease of his elbow. “What’s in the bag?” she asked. 
Jim accepted the mug of coffee Artemis handed to him and took his time emptying the bag. “Everything for a moon bounce for a special little girl.”
“A moon bounce?!” Lian squawked, her jaw dropping. “I gotta moon bounce?!”
Will’s stomach sank. How many kids were injured by moon bounce-related injuries per year? 
“Yes,” Jim said, “but we’re not going to set it up just yet.”
Lian and the adults gathered around for pizza, which Will had picked up earlier, while she made sure they watched Paw Patrol. Roy was on his phone most of the time, Artemis ate and scratched Brucely’s ears, and only Jim and Will paid attention to what was on TV; every time Jim babysat, he always got super into what TV shows Lian watched since it was perfect uncle-niece bonding, and Will wanted to make sure he understood the characters that his daughter clearly worshipped. 
Eventually, the child went to bed at eight on the dot; Auntie Mouse carried her upstairs and changed her into pajamas while the men went on to decorate. Once Artemis came back down, they blew the balloons, set up the kitchen table with extra folding chairs, and mixed together the punch. Jim went outside and used the light from his phone to read the directions on setting up the moon bounce and how to keep it afloat overnight. Afterwards, the adults were up until midnight making gift bags for the children and going over the schedule, from games to lunch to cake to presents and more games. Since some kids were, as Will assumed, “gender neutral” (Roy had to laugh, since that was so new to him), they had to make sure to mix up the colors so the girls wouldn’t just get pink and the boys blue; some kids got green, some got purple, some others. 
Finally, Roy set down the last bag he was working on and sighed. His back ached from hunching over work for little midgets, and even the fingers on his robotic arm hurt. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going back to the hotel,” he yawned. 
“Me too,” Jim agreed as he rubbed his face. “See you guys tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow,” Will greeted them goodbye as they put on their jackets and contacted an Uber to pick them up. As soon as the car drove away, Will went back to the decorations and kept going, wanting to make sure everything was perfect. He knew how many kids were coming, he didn’t want to be short on a goody bag, he double checked that there was enough food for everyone and that nobody was allergic to anything, and there was enough punch to make more bowls in case they ran out or some kid crashed and made an accident. 
“Will,” Artemis hissed. “Come on, let’s go to sleep.”
“I can’t,” he whispered back. “I have to make sure everything is perfect!”
Artemis bit her lip but smiled anyway. It looked odd. “Will, everything is perfect, I swear–”
“Artemis,” Will interrupted. He stared at the extra gift bag he was making as an emergency. “I have to make sure everything is perfect. I don’t want anything bad to happen. I want it to be the best I can give my daughter
because her
” His voice trailed off. 
His sister-in-law also looked uncomfortable when she clearly thought about her sister, who was surely not going to see her own daughter. Would it make up to Lian, to have a perfect party that her mother would not attend? Would everything Paw Patrol distract her from the pain of an absent parent? What if Lian still declared the party ruined because Mommy did not show up? Artemis rubbed her face and thought bitterly of her birthdays growing up, how even her assassin mother made time to host a small party and invite all her school friends, but Dad did nothing when his wife was behind bars. Lian didn’t deserve to have anything less than that, and for a moment Artemis wanted to hate her sister for making no indication that she was going to celebrate her daughter’s life.
“Listen, Will,” she sighed as she put her hands on his arms. “Everything will be fine, I promise. If anything goes wrong, I’m still there. So will Roy and Jim. You are not alone. Will, look at me.”
Will closed his eyes but reluctantly obeyed. Artemis smiled weakly. “I know what bothers you, and I appreciate that you’re doing this to give Lian the best birthday you can, but if you keep doing this, you’ll agitate yourself more. You’ll end up ruining the party for her if you don’t get any sleep or you strive to make everything too perfect.”
Will took a deep breath but nodded. “Come on,” she encouraged him. “Let’s get ready for tomorrow.” 
Artemis led her brother-in-law upstairs, and he was quick to brush his teeth and change into sleepwear. Still, he wasted two hours on his phone looking up nothing of particular interest until he yawned and decided that it was time to go to bed. 
Will did not remember falling asleep; he woke up promptly at six on the dot as though someone poured cold water over his face. He yawned, stretched his arms, and hurried down the stairs into the kitchen to make his daughter the best birthday breakfast ever. 
Not cereal today, he thought as he checked the cabinets. I don’t want to take her out to eat
 French Toast? Maybe pancakes. 
Will wasn’t a terrible cook, but he was never one to perfect making his own pasta sauce; the one time he tried, Jade could not stop making faces and licking her teeth because it clearly tasted bad. Sighing, he pulled out his phone and looked up recipes.
Artemis walked into the kitchen with the birthday girl in her arms and was surprised to see the kitchen as though she walked into the set of a cooking show. Will was chopping strawberries at the counter, with a bowl and whisk beside him. Something heated on the stove, and Artemis tried not to moan because of how good it smelled–like vanilla and cinnamon. 
“Morning, Daddy,” Lian chirped through a yawn. 
Will instantly dropped the knife and quickly smiled. “Happy birthday, Lian,” he said. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“What are you making?” asked his sister-in-law as she set Lian into her big-girl seat. 
Will quickly smoothed the creamy filling between the bread and added strawberries and syrup before he presented the plate to his daughter. “A French Toast sandwich, with strawberries, bananas, and syrup, and chocolate chips,” he said proudly. He watched as Lian’s eyes lit up when she saw her yummy-looking breakfast and he took a deep breath. He wanted her to have the best birthday breakfast he could offer. She grabbed a fork, and Artemis helped her cut her sandwich into small pieces. Will’s heart beat faster, and Lian’s eyes widen. 
“Yummy!” she squealed before she shoved another forkful into her mouth. 
Will laughed, and Artemis gently stopped her from shoving another forkful between her lips and reminded her to chew and swallow first. Relieved, Will poured coffee for himself and Artemis, and cooked another patch before the party would start.
***
Artemis was outside and setting up decorations and party bags when the doorbell first rang. Lian was watching TV with her father, but Will was quick to walk up to the front door. All of a sudden, his anxiety came back. What if everyone else who came hated the party? What if this was the only kid who came to the party? Swallowing, Will peered through the peephole but opened the door with a smile. 
“Hello, Will. Are we late?”
“Raquel! No. You and Amistad are the first to arrive!”
The young woman clutched her squirming son and grinned. Will smiled at the little boy, clearly looking for his friend. “Come on in. Artemis is out back, but Amistad here can–”
“Ami, Ami!” Lian was at her father’s side within a moment and jumping. Raquel set down her son, and the children embraced.
“Aw,” cooed Raquel. 
“Today is your birthday,” said Amistad as he pet Lian’s hair. 
“Auntie Mouse is outside, and we got a moon bouncy,” Lian squealed. She and Amistad grabbed hands and ran to the backdoor but could not reach the doorknob. Will shook his head and opened the door for them. 
***
Over the next hour, Will did his best to relax. The party was going off rather smoothly. Lian’s friends were there, both from daycare and the parents’ group. Donny and Dawn, who somehow knew not to run around, were laughing and rolling around the lawn with Zehra and Khary. Artur and Traya were having too much fun inside the moon bounce with Greg and Brandon. Many of the daycare moms were still starstruck to meet Iris—the GBS reporter! Lian’s daddy knew a news reporter from the second biggest national news station, after GMA!—and Artemis, who had dropped off Brucely at the Watchtower for the day, was happy to photograph as many things as possible.
“It’s hard getting my kids out of the house sometimes,” sighed Nicole as Lian tried doing a cartwheel while Dawn and Zehra cheered her on. “What’s your secret?”
Will swallowed, at loss for words. “Uh, well, when you’ve lived with a millionaire most of your life, you get to travel a lot, more or less like an army brat, and you make friends with whoever does business with your adoptive dad. So
” He felt so awkward and worried that she could sense it. “I guess it’s
doing something new every day.”
“Ani, Jenny!” Lian and Dawn screamed.
Anissa and Jennifer, each carrying a present, shoved them into Lynn’s arms and bolted for their friends. “Happy birthday, Li!” Jennifer giggled. 
“Lynn, so happy you could come,” Will said as he handed her a cup of punch and offered two more to her daughters. The girls wiped their mouths, thanked their host, and let Lian tug on their hands as she rushed to introduce them to her friends from daycare. 
Will introduced Lynn to all the daycare mothers, who were very nice and alternated between watching the children play and talking to each other. “Wow, your daughter is really a social butterfly,” Masasa commented. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s voted Homecoming Queen in the future!”
Will forced himself to chuckle. He couldn’t imagine Lian at age six just yet, so just the thought of her as a teenager felt weird.
“Everything okay?” Lynn asked in a voice low enough so the daycare moms didn’t hear. 
“Yeah,” he whispered. “I’m not used to playing host, and
I’m worried something might happen.”
Lynn cocked an eyebrow. “Say that again.”
Will gestured for her to follow him as he slowly walked from the daycare moms. At a considerable distance, he took a deep breath. “I get nervous around the women from daycare. It’s not easy being the only dad–well, only really involved dad. I mean, other dads will help with things, pick up their kids and all, but
” Then he swallowed and double checked that nobody was watching. “I’ve heard quite a few women notice that I’m the only one of Lian’s parents to do things, and they’ve said some rather mean things, like her mother is a bad parent for not being with the other moms or
picking up our daughter.”
Lynn’s face made him think that he told her that her brother had just died. “Are you serious?”
Will nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes I have Artemis pick Lian up, just because
it’s kind of hurtful.” When Lynn didn’t say anything, he continued. “That’s why I want this party to be perfect, so these mothers can let the others know that I am a good single father even if I don’t have my wife with me.”
Lynn glanced at the daycare mothers chatting animatedly with Iris, Mera, and Raquel. “Well, I think it’s enough that you have her aunt involved, but
at least you have us. We know you don’t project your daughter’s needs to her aunt. We got your back.”
Will felt completely grateful and nodded. 
***
The doorbell rang shortly after Brandon won Pin the Helmet on the Dog, but some of the kids alternated between running inside and some were already back outdoors. Artemis reassured Will that she would watch over the kids so he could answer the door. 
“Hello, brother.”
Will smiled at his fellow clone, who carried a present wrapped in appropriately themed wrapping paper, but his smile sank when he saw Roy hunched over his phone. “Someone’s not in a party mode?” he asked. 
Jim glanced at their genetic template. “I practically had to drag him from the hotel. I’m starting to think that he may have second thoughts about being caught in a kiddie party.”
“I’m not deaf, you know,” Roy groaned. Jim chuckled. 
“Lian, Uncle Jim and Uncle Roy are here!” Will called out. “Put that down, however you pronounce your name again!”
Jim laughed and elbowed Roy to follow him inside, where Lian ran to them both for hugs and then dashed through the backdoor. He grimaced as he tried to set down his gift somewhere on the mountain of presents without it falling over. Once he was satisfied, he followed Will into the backyard. Some of the mothers he recognized, and the others must have been daycare moms. The only other guy was definitely the human android that Red Tornado set up. Roy walked away, but Jim looked up and saw a very familiar face that he was happy to see. 
“Hey, Karen!”
The expectant woman grinned, and they hugged as tightly but loosely as they could given her condition. “Glad to see you!” He quickly peeked around. “Mal’s getting better, I hope?”
Karen nodded. “Yes, but he encouraged me to come anyway, and I’m going to film Lian opening our present for him. Plus
” She glanced around at the little ones laughing and having fun. “When you’re going to be a member of an exclusive club like this, you don’t turn down the invite for what you’re expecting.“ 
“Absolutely,” he agreed, thinking of his protĂ©gĂ© and how excited he was for the couple.
“So, uh
how’s Karen?” she asked as she cradled her baby bump. 
Jim grinned. “Your, uh, closest ‘geranium’ is doing well, and she hopes you’ll come back and visit soon.” He liked to see how Karen’s eyes lit up. “They all miss you and can’t wait to hear about your dissertation. Definitely let me know if—”
What cut him off was a squeal of laughter, and Donny and Dawn jogged behind the other kids, waving their arms and making silly noises. Artemis secured a few pictures, but Will could not laugh. He watched his daughter and a friend from daycare attempt to hula hoop, but both failed miserably. Fortunately, Lian just laughed, and so did her friend. He noticed Roy succeed in opening a bottle of water with one hand and offer a kid a juice box.
Then Will looked over his daughter’s head and panicked when he saw Mera put her hand to her son’s forehead. The prince must have dehydrated himself in the moon bounce. Will grabbed a water bottle and hurried over. “Here,” he said. “He looks thirsty.”
“Thank you,” Mera said as she handed her son the bottle and encouraged him to drink. Will checked to make sure nobody was watching, but he was worried. He wanted his daughter’s birthday to be perfect, and that did not include a child passing out, especially an Atlantean. 
When Artur took deep breaths, Will fanned him as best as he could. “If you want, the bathtub is upstairs if he needs a good soak.”
“Thank you, Will,” Mera said, “but I think he’s good for now.”
“You sure?” Will asked the prince. Artur hesitated but nodded. Will sighed in relief and chuckled when he saw some of the day care moms—Denise and Nicole—standing close to Jim, who looked amused and uncomfortable. Nicole, with the black hair, nodded to what he was saying and brushed something off his shoulder. 
***
ïżœïżœïżœLois! I’m so glad you and Jonathan could make it!” the host greeted the last guest before he welcomed the two inside.
“Thank you for inviting us,” Lois said. “I mean, I know he’s a little young for birthday parties, but it means a lot that you welcome us here.”
“Of course.” Will led mother and child to the backyard and ruffled the baby’s hair. “My daughter enjoys playing with your son, and she wanted him to come.” Then he clapped his hands and put on his best host smile. “All right, everyone, who’s ready for the piñata?”
Even little Jonathan bounced in his mother’s arms as he watched the children line up. Artemis took a picture of her niece clutching the Sky piñata before Jim hung it over a tree branch and Roy tied a bandana over Lian’s eyes. He handed her a wooden baseball bat. 
“Hey, no fair!” Jennifer whined. She pointed to the older kids behind her. “They’re bigger than we are, they’ll hit it better!” Then came a little chorus of protests, and Will panicked. He tried to read his daughter’s face, but it was hard given the blindfold.
“Not quite, kiddo,” Jim said with a smile. “Who says that I can’t lift”—he tugged on the rope so the piñata went up a few inches higher—“for the taller ones?”
“Damn, he’s so hot,” Will heard Kath mutter to herself or the other mothers. He tried not to chuckle, even though he knew that if Jim found out, he would have turned red. 
It took about half an hour and tiny cheers of encouragement, but at last Sky broke apart when Amistad whacked the side, and a shower of candy poured onto the grass. Children rushed over and grabbed handfuls of Tootsie Rolls, sugar stix, Twix bars, Kit Kats, lollipops, and Twizzlers, which their parents said they would hold onto until after presents. 
“All right, everyone,” Will said after he checked the time, “who’s ready for birthday cake?”
Roy would never admit to anyone that a hoard of tiny legs and bodies nearly trampled him to the ground in a rush into the house, and he was sure that one kid kicked him in the gut, but nobody noticed because everyone in the kitchen impatiently watched as Will removed the cake from the refrigerator. 
Will set down the giant Paw Patrol cake in front of his daughter, with the 3 candle lit and dancing. It was 4:16—the exact same time that Lian was born, after her mother was in labor for sixteen hours. The birthday girl and her friends bounced in their seats as Will and Lian posed for her aunt. Then Will let her take a picture of all the guests before he said, “All right, everyone sing
”
“Happy birthday to you
”
Lian blew out the candle, and her friends, their mothers, her father, her aunt, and her uncles clapped and cheered. Then Will slowly cut the cake into equal wedges and set them on tiny Paw Patrol paper plates for the children. (He then worried that someone would notice that he gave Donny and Dawn slightly bigger slices and regretted not ordering a stack of cupcakes for everyone so the twins wouldn’t detect if they were eating something sugar-free).
Lian, for no reason, ended up shoving her slice of cake in Roy’s face. Her friends burst into laughter, while their mothers blushed. Jim chuckled, but then he felt a stranger caress his arm and then his back a little too much for his liking. Will, for once, stopped worrying and started laughing. His daughter was happy. She was making other children laugh. 
Roy, who thought that Lian had wanted to whisper something in his ear, stared as cake fell from his face and onto the table. Lian giggled and licked her fingers. He shrugged and ruffled her hair. Little goofball—he couldn’t get mad at her. Then he searched for a napkin, but his eyes instead hit Artemis holding a camera, pointing in his direction, clicking more than once. The humiliation came back in a fresh wave. He needed to break that camera apart and burn it. He could not let anyone else see evidence that a three-year-old “caked” him like a newly married couple to each other. 
“Jennifer, no!” Lynn warned as she grabbed her daughter’s wrist before she could shove her own slice into her sister’s face. Anissa either didn’t care or was laughing too hard to notice. Will grinned as everyone ate and Jonathan smashed his fist into his own slice, and then he, Artemis, and Jim carried the presents and set them on the table where the cake had been.
At Auntie Mouse’s request, Lian had to open Grandmommy Paula’s gift first, though everything was filmed anyway. Paula gave her granddaughter two dolls that she had since she was a girl, a black dress, and a storybook in Vietnamese. Although Lian was not learning to speak Vietnamese fluently, she was able to read and understand some vocabulary. Will helped his daughter read aloud the letter his mother-in-law wrote, Lian in love with her grandmother’s handwriting. Artemis couldn’t help but feel like crying because Paula said the best words to her little sunshine. 
Artur gave her a pink conch and told her to hold it to her ear so she could hear the ocean. Lian nearly squealed because it sounded so real, but not even the little prince could explain why it could do that. Jennifer gave her a Justice League coloring book that featured nearly every hero in its history (Lian knew better than to point out that she found her own daddy in the book) and a stack of crayons, Anissa bought with her own money Green Arrow and Black Canary plushies for Lian’s collection, while Amistad’s gift was a kiddie bow and arrow set with suction cups, and Traya’s a kid-friendly book on different religions. Jonathan’s parents gave her a Superman teddy from Build-a-Bear, Donny and Dawn a picture album of their adventures to the beach and the zoo, and Zehra two stuffed cats. Khary gave her a collection of Peppa Pig plushies, Greg a candy-making kit, and Brandon the same set of Paw Patrol rain boots that he had so they could be "twins” for the daycare’s upcoming trip to an apple orchard.
Roy gave her the Brave read-along book, Artemis a collection of clothes, and Jim a suitcase with wheels to carry books, clothes, and toys for when she came to visit him, her name embroidered in sapphire blue. All three of them also gave her cards declaring their absolute love for the niece they shared and how she lit up their lives.
After Lian opened a bumblebee pillow pet from Mal and Karen, Will handed her his present. She pulled apart the wrapping paper to the solar system set that she wanted for a long time and a framed poem of a father’s love and wishes for his daughter. Everyone, even Roy and Jim, started tearing up as Will coached his daughter into reading it out loud. He promised to hang it over her bed after the party. 
Afterwards, the party spent the afternoon in the living room. The TV played Paw Patrol, but the children alternated between watching and engaging in other activities. Lian and Jennifer made buzzing noises to Jonathan using the bumblebee pillow pet. Artur, Traya, Anissa, and Dawn gathered at the coffee table while Jim entertained them with card tricks, and Masasa gave him coffee and a wink. Roy feigned interest as Donny, Greg, and Zehra sang along to whatever was on TV again and bounced on his lap and the couch. Amistad, Brandon, and Khary played Justice League while Raquel, Mera, Iris, and Karen got to know Nicole, Kath, Denise, and Grey. Will talked mostly to John and watched as Artemis made sure to snap pictures of everything. 
Slowly, beginning at six, the guests began to leave. Jennifer and Donny whined and complained as their respective mothers escorted them out, but they were excited to go home and open their party bags. Although the parents helped Will clean up as much as they could, only John, Roy, Mera, and Jim stayed. By the time Mera and John left, with Traya and the prince behind them, Will thought he was going to cry in relief. It was hard playing host and keeping an eye out on little bodies. Roy ordered a pizza for the remaining four adults to share as they finished the ice cream, and Will began washing the dishes. 
“Did you have fun, baby girl?” Artemis called out. A yawn was her response. Artemis chuckled and walked into the living room to sit beside her exhausted niece, rubbing her eyes and struggling to hold up her head. “Ready for bed? You must be sleepy.”
“No,” she sighed. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” 
Lian nodded but yawned again. Artemis smiled and prepared to slide her hands under her niece’s body, but Lian made a noise of protest. “No, I want Daddy.”
“Is everything okay, Li?” Will asked as he stepped out of the kitchen.
Lian nodded and held out her arms. “Daddy put me to bed.” 
Will smiled and picked her up. Her head immediately landed on his shoulder. “Oh, my little girl’s exhausted,” he said. “Did you have fun today?”
Lian nodded as he carried her into the kitchen so Jim and Roy could hug her goodnight before she went to bed. “I did,” she whispered.
Will gave Lian a quick bath and had to keep his hand on her back to keep her from falling asleep in the tub, and brushed her teeth for her while she struggled to keep her mouth wide open. Lian sleepily wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his collarbone as he helped her into her pajamas. Will laid her onto the mattress, but before he pulled the covers to her chest, Lian threw her arms around him again. “Thank you, Daddy,” she yawned. “It was the best birthday ever.”
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lives-by-moonlight · 4 years ago
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💍 + Will and Selene
@insatiablelilith​
Where they get married
In Mandeliu, France at the Chùteau de la Napoule
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When they get married ( ie what time of day, what month and season etc. )
It’d definitely be a summer wedding, likely the start of July
What traditions they include ( do they get married under a chuppah and crush a glass, garter toss, ‘something borrowed, something blue,’ etc. )
I feel like they would maybe do some traditional things like something old, new, borrowed, and blue and maybe do the bouquet toss and first dance but they don’t do every traditional idea
What their wedding cake looks like
OMG CUTENESS ALERT
So maybe Selene learns how to use her artist skills but with icing! So they get a cake and she is the one who paints a design on it! It’s meant to be a surprise for Will, so he’ll have no idea what the cake looks like and it turns out to something like this!
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(except maybe it looks more hand painted like this, or maybe she does the art with icing like above)
Either way Will is completely shocked and loves this and is all like ‘oh my god it looks so beautiful!!!’ but then is like ‘........I don’t know if I want to eat it it’s so pretty’
I also feel like the cake would actually have like a fruit flavour to it like maybe blueberry
I also imagine them having like extra desserts like this where they have the main cake, then on one side is Selene’s art pallette and the other an old typewriter Will has and then beside them is something like this:
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.who smashes cake into whose face
So I had another idea for this
So maybe with their first piece of cake, they are blindfolded and have to try and serve the first fork piece to each other (while blindfolded) so they both start to get cake on them (especially if there is fruit filling lol)
Who proposed to who first
Will proposes to Selene but I haven’t quite figured out how yet (let me know if you have ideas! :P)
Who walks down the aisle and who waits at the altar ( or neither )
Selene walks down the aisle and Will waits at the altar
What their wedding dresses / suits / other look like
So I didn’t want to choose Selene’s wedding dress but this is what Will would look like 
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What their wedding colour scheme is and what sort of decor they have
OMG SO MANY IDEAS
So I feel like the flowers colour scheme would be something like this but with things like red roses and white carnations and some dahlias and larkspurs and a few other flowers that might be a light pink to even out some of the red and white:
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HOWEVER, TO GO INTO THEMES:
so I feel like the flowers would be the centerpieces but in vintage vases, all of which they got at the vintage store where they first met 
There are also a few other vintage things around the reception like little decor figurines that fit with the theme or they have pictures of themselves (and the dogs) in vintage frames 
Also each table is assigned either a favourite artist/painter that Selene loves or one of Will’s favourite authors. Each table place will have a postcard-like piece with the guest’s name on it but each guest will have either a different painting by that artist or book cover by that author and on the back of it is the story of that artist’s painting and what it’s called while the books have what the book is about and the story of the author
What flowers are in the bouquet ( if applicable. bonus: what do the flowers mean? )
thought you might want to do this one since it would be Selene’s flowers
What their vows are ( eg poetry, traditional, improvised etc. )
I think they would have their own personal vows that they write to each other but then they also do the traditional ones after 
If anyone’s late to the wedding
No one is late to the wedding
Who’s in the bridal parties / groomsmen / other
Will’s sister and Selene’s brother are obviously in the bridal and groom parties but they also include a few of their close friends as well. It’s not a large wedding party
What their bridal party / groomsmen / other are wearing
the groomsmen would be almost matching Will but their shirts are more plain and don’t have the ruffles in it
thought you would want to do the bridal party :) 
Who gives speeches at the reception ( bonus: what do they say? recount a sweet memory or two between them? tell an embarrassing story? )
their siblings and parents all give speeches at the wedding and recount funny and loving stories from their childhood with their siblings
Will’s mother tells of how she came to know Selene and knew she was perfect for her son and how much she loves her
Who catches the bouquet( s )
one of Will’s friend’s girlfriends?
What their wedding photos are like ( are they sweet, with the couple holding hands or kissing or ~gazing into each others eyes~? are they silly, with a snapshot of the ‘cake-smash’ moment? or are they artistic, with one of them facing the sunset or holding their bouquets? )
okay so they are at this beautiful destination
AND IN FRANCE
so they would take a lot of pictures at the actual Chateau and in their gardens but also get a few on the beach
they also get a horse drawn carriage to take pictures of them in the carriage or in places around the city (carriages are also available for guests to go on quick tours during the photos
the pictures are mostly beautifully artistic and sweet but they also have a few silly ones or ones where they are just talking and laughing
ALSO THE DOGS WEARING ADORABLE LITTLE BOWTIES
What sort of food they have at the reception
they would have some traditional dinner foods like a roast and maybe some fancy potatoes and steamed garlic vegetables but would also have some French delicacy foods in it as well 
Who cries first during the ceremony
definitely Will. He the first moment he sees her he’s getting teary eyed 
How wild their reception gets ( who dances the best, who gets drunk first, etc. )
they have a good party at the reception but it doesn’t go insane and is still tasteful 
I also feel like before a big party they would have lots of slow dances as well where Will and Selene hold each other and dance
they also have a dance where Will dances with his mother and Selene dances with her father
What their rings are like
Selene’s:
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Will’s:  (I feel like she knew he would like a traditional gold one)
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What sort of favours they have ( heart shaped sparklers, mini champagne bottles, personalised candy etc. )
They have mini champagne bottles from France and with it is a small itinerary of things they could do while staying in the city or surrounding area
Where they go for their honeymoon
In in Palma and Madrid, Spain
Something memorable that happens during the party / ceremony ( do they run out of ice and someone goes to get it in full formal wear on foot, does anyone fall asleep in the middle of the party, etc. )
One of Will’s friends (a groomsman) is dancing and splits his pants as he tries to go lower. Everyone is laughing and the friend just shrugs it off and keeps going. In a few wedding pictures he’s in at the party there are some where you see it rip and the reactions and then also just casual ones where you see in crowd shots
when looking through wedding pictures they love to play ‘spot the plaid’ (he was wearing plaid underwear
Who officiates the ceremony
A legal officiant in France
What song their first dance is to
OKAY SO
They agree their first dance will be to Your Song by Elton John (because well it’s them lol)
BUT
Will records himself playing it and singing it and it’s a complete surprise to Selene so they are dancing and she can realize it’s actually him singing the song
Who gives who away as they walk down the aisle
I thought it would be best if you chose this one :) 
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wincestbigbang · 7 years ago
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2017 Master Post
Prompt 1: The Spaceship Impala Artist: amberdreams Author: samsexualdeancurious Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Unrelated Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Unrelated Winchesters, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Bottom Dean, Bottom Sam, Top Dean, Top Sam, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Android Castiel (Supernatural), Sex in Space, Alternate Universe - Passengers (2016), This is Passengers with a better ending, Near Death Experiences Summary: Dean Winchester is an engineer in hibernation aboard the starship Impala, journeying alongside five thousand other passengers to a new beginning. When his pod malfunctions, he wakes up ninety years too early. Art: LiveJournal Story: Ao3 Prompt 2: The Winchester House Rules Artist: emmatheslayer Author: puckity Other Pairing(s): Implied Sam/Jess, Implied Dean/OMC, Sam/Dean/OFC Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: N/A Summary: There are rules—there have to be rules—otherwise Sam and Dean wouldn’t make it out of this world in one piece. An exploration of tropes, kinks, and meant-to-be through the Winchester life cycle(s). Art: LiveJournal Story: Ao3 Prompt 3: Armageddon Game Artist: dreamsfromthebunker / hit_the_books Author: alulaspeaks Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Canon-typical Violence Summary: A year ago Dean watched Sam walk away from the life. A few months later Sam dropped off the radar completely, his last words to Dean a scribbled note. I just need some time. Don’t look for me. I’ll call if I need you. Now it’s 2009 and Dean finds Sam locked in a warded cell guarded by the Campbells. They say he’s running with demons, that they call him the Boy King. They say Sam’s up to something big. Dean and Bobby confront a caged Sam who is cold, and distant, and far too knowing. While everyone tries to tell Dean that the brother he knew is gone, Dean is determined to find the truth. Along the way he discovers angels, broken seals, a runaway apocalypse, and visions of another timeline that burned up his brother’s brain. Now all Dean has to do is figure out what Sam’s endgame is and how to stop it, or risk losing Sam forever. Art: Tumblr Story: Ao3 Prompt 5: Synecdoche Artist: apataeavaca Author: samdeanddlyumptious Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: ABO, heat, knotting, brief consent concern Summary: The girls are on their way to meet their dad for a hunt when a heat hits D. Lots of fluff and sisterly teasing and passionate sex, with some angst and whump at the beginning to keep things interesting. (This is a timestamp, but can stand alone.) Art: Tumblr Story: Ao3 Prompt 6: A Shadow of What Should Be Artist: fridayblues Author: wetsammywinchester Rating: PG-13 Warnings/Spoilers: None, Stanford angst, hallucinations Summary: Sam wakes up in a strange bed, a strange apartment, and living in domestic bliss with Dean and a dog named Mothra. Obviously, either he’s lost his mind or all of this is a dream. Art: LiveJournal Story: Ao3 Prompt 7: My Anchor Artist: kuwlshadow Author: backrose_17 Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Top Dean, bottom Sam, hurt Sam, Hallcuifer tormenting Sam Summary: Death was the ending that endverse Dean had been waiting for what he got was anything but that. Dean finds himself in a rundown motel with someone he thought he would never see again his Sam. Only this Sam is broken tormented by visions of Lucifer and his Dean missing he is on the edge. Two broken souls each missing their other half find a peace and sense of belonging to one another. A love story between Endverse!Dean and pre-season 8!Sam. Art: LiveJournal Story: Ao3 Prompt 8: Howls In My Bones Artist: azziria Author: weefaol Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Underage, Top Dean, Bottom Sam, Angst, First Time Summary: When John gets a call to investigate a series of grisly animal killings, he drops Sam and Dean at an abandoned cabin two towns over. The boys find ways to keep busy — playing cards, watching movies, chopping wood — but with a howling winter storm on the way, there’s nowhere for Sam to hide his illicit feelings for his older brother. As the lure of desire threatens to devour him, Sam must learn to face the wolves that lurk outside and the monsters within. Art: Ao3 Story: Ao3 Prompt 9: Bolide Artist: weakspots Author: laughablelament Other Pairing(s): Sam/Dean/Jess Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: mild underage, non-con, early S12 Summary: A run-in with witches leaves Sam in a supernatural coma. Dean must navigate the broken, shifting landscape of his soul to get him back. Art: LiveJournal Story: Ao3 Prompt 10: Doesn't Matter What I Remember Artist: stargazingchola Author: smalltrolven Rating: R Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for episode 12.11,"Regarding Dean" Summary: Maybe it’s because they both almost lost each other again. That’s part of what makes Dean do it, but mostly it’s the essay he read in a magazine in the laundromat. Sometimes the right words find you just when you need to read them. Art: Tumblr Story: LiveJournal | Ao3 Prompt 11: Perfect, Twisted, Bloody Family Author: justanothersaltandburn Artist: emmatheslayer Rating: NC-17 Other Pairing(s): Dean/Ketch, Dean/Ketch/Sam Warnings/Spoilers: sibling incest, serial killer AU, police detective!Sam, butcher!Dean, serial killer!Dean, bounty hunter!Ketch, serial killer!Ketch, murder boyfriends, drunk sex, gore, violence, torture, murders, desecration of corpse, oral sex, anal sex, rough sex, bottom!Sam, switch!Dean, top!Ketch, threesome (M/M/M), bareback, coming untouched, dirty talk, polyamory Summary: Dean has a great life. He’s got amazing boyfriend and a successful business, lots of friends, and a smart detective for a brother. They have awesome dinners at each other’s houses, poker nights, and a relationship most siblings would envy. Dean also has a deep, secret lust he’s been harboring for said little brother. That, and the occasional murder of a pimp or drug dealer, just to keep things interesting. C’est la vie. Art: LiveJournal Story: Ao3 Prompt 12: That Time Dean Came to Stanford Artist: tx_devilorangel Author: runedgirl Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Pre Series, First Time Summary: Sam goes to Stanford carrying a secret about his feelings for his brother. Seven months later, everyone’s talking about the good looking guy with the gorgeous ’67 Impala holding court at the local bar. What sparks will fly when Sam sees Dean again? Art: LiveJournal | Ao3 Story: LiveJournal Prompt 13: Hold My Hand Artist: nisaki Author: meohmywhyohwhy Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Bottom Dean, Bottom Sam, Top Dean, Top Sam, Angst, Internalized Homophobia, Established Relationship, First Time Fic Summary: Sam isn’t sure he can do this anymore–he can’t keep being Dean’s dirty little secret. A case in Missouri brings things to a head, while memories from the summer this all began keep bubbling to the surface. Art: LiveJournal | Tumblr Story: Ao3 Prompt 14: Reckless In Love Artist: loracine Author: paperann Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Explicit Sexual Content Summary: When Dean fought his way through the soil to an Earth he never thought he’d see again, he didn’t care how he escaped Hell. The only thing on his mind was seeing Sammy. It turned out to be harder than he thought, but with the aid of Bobby they found him: post-party, having a fuckin’ blast with some half-naked chick in a motel room. It was almost a punch to the gut when she asked the million dollar question—“if they were together” and Sam couldn’t say “they’re brothers” fast enough. Of friggin course, they never flaunted ‘it’, but Sam was acting cagey. Like he genuinely meant it. Dean knew damn well his brains hadn’t scrambled. He knew he hadn’t imagined Sam’s urgent confession the moment his one-year-left Crossroad’s Contract was revealed. And
his own astonishment, upon discovery, because Dean felt the same way. If there was helluva way to go out? God, it’d be that year—every day (every second) was lived with passion, freedom and without regret. But most important: they lived fearlessly with each other. Had Sam’s mind changed after Dean died? Was he humoring the last wishes of a dying man? Either way, if Sam didn’t feel the same anymore
maybe Dean should have stayed in the pit. Art: LiveJournal Story: Ao3 Prompt 15: The Golden State Artist: bluefire986 Author: soy_em Other Pairing(s): Sam Winchester/OMC Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Implied/Referenced Rape, /Non-con, Abusive Relationships, Domestic Violence, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Sam and Dean are still hunters, Hurt Sam Winchester, Getting Together, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary: A year after Sam leaves for Stanford, the Reckoning happens. Angels and demons descend to earth and destroy much of the planet in an endless war. Dean survives, living with Bobby in the survivor city of Sioux Falls, but he never forgets his missing little brother. Finally, after the world has stabilized a little, he decides it’s time to undertake the dangerous trip to California and try to find Sam. He finds his little brother in a settlement on the Californian coast, but all is not well with Sam, who is in an abusive relationship with the Boss, the settlement’s shady leader. Dean has to rescue Sam so that they can rebuild their lives in the safety of Sioux Falls, but the Boss is not going to let Sam leave easily. And Dean’s not even sure that Sam wants to leave... Canon divergent from the beginning: in this world, Sam and Dean are the characters we know, and grow up in hunting monsters with John, but are not the vessels. Art: LiveJournal | Ao3 Story: Ao3 Prompt 16: Never bet against a Winchester, even if you are a Winchester. Artist: stormbrite Author: milly_gal Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: No Spoilers, Cross Dressing, Sex Depravation, CRACK. Summary: The lack of sex is driving both Sam and Dean crazy, but neither brother will admit defeat and beg. What happens when you place a wager on your willpower and then realise you have none? Art: LiveJournal | Ao3 Story: LiveJournal | Ao3
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keywestlou · 4 years ago
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLIE BROWN
Missed Charlie Brown’s birthday. It was yesterday. Sorry. Never the less, the loving spirit of the Peanuts comic strip was born in effect when it made its appearance 70 years ago on October 2, 1950.
Happy Birthday Charlie Brown! Happy Birthday Peanuts! Happy Birthday Snoopy! Happy Birthday the security blanket! And most of all, Happy Birthday to Charles M. Schulz who penned the comic strip.
First named Li’l Folks, the strip was later renamed Peanuts.
Friend even to Presidents. Charlie Brown mentioned occasionally by John Kennedy, Bill Clinton, Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush.
Today, the comic strip has 330 million readers in 75 countries. It is published daily in 22 languages.
It is thought Charlie Brown has been such a continuing success for so long because of Charlie Brown getting up and trying again after being down. It is called perseverance.
Charlie Brown was a trendsetter in pet relationships. Snoopy.  Pets were members of the family and truly best friends and companions.
Schools are open in most parts of the country. I thought the schools were being prematurely opened. I was wrong.
The kids are going. Nothing coronavirus wise of any significance is happening.
In all of Monroe County, there have been only 3 confirmed cases. The 3 located in the northern part of the County.
I got into wearing masks with Robert. He is a Junior at the Key West High School. He said masks were no problem. Everybody wears one and no one complains. The only time they may remove the masks is during lunch.
I checked with an emergency room friend in one of the most northern cities in New York. She says she has not observed any problems. She mentioned a 7 year old who came  into the emergency room this week. Not for a coronavirus related problem.
She talked with the 7 year old. The little girl was wearing a mask. She asked her if she liked the mask. The girl nodded a shy yes and then proudly said, “We have a mask break for one minute every morning and afternoon.”
Adults should have adapted to mask wearing as children apparently are doing across the country.
Our President is in the hospital. At his age, coronaviirus could be very serious.
I don’t know what it is, but I feel bad that Trump is ill and may die. My writings clearly suggest I like neither the man nor the way he is running the country. Think he is a bad guy. Recommend everyone vote for Biden.
I must add I doubt Trump feels bad about anyone or anything. He is the original I don’t like prisoners, I don’t like Muslims. His feelings regarding Jews is obvious. He stands for all the bad things America has become.
Yet, I feel sorry for the man and wish him well.
Frank Bruni wrote in a New York Times Opinion piece yesterday about Trump. The column: The Pandemic Comes For The President.  Its thrust was no one is invincible. Not even the mighty Donald.
Bruni wrote: “The Presidency and the President are always national mirrors, in many different ways at once
..Trump has shown America its resentments. He has modeled its rage. Now he personifies its recklessness.”
He wrote America is “infected,” it has become a “morality case.”
Every day it is something new about Amy Coney Barrett.
CNN Politics reported yesterday that in the late summer she and her husband were diagnosed with coronavirus. Her husband was asymptomatic. The Judge “felt a little under the weather but recovered.”
My concern is her tendency to be secretive. She has failed in many respects to make full disclosure re professional matters and her religion. Forget not she is 48 and being considered for a lifetime job. Nothing is secret under the circumstances.
The fact that she and her husband had coronavirus may appear non consequential on its face. It probably is. However in today’s climate where the major issue in the election is coronavirus, she should have mentioned it.
Marsha is a long time reader of this blog. From Syracuse, New York. We have never met, except through the blog. We have become good friends.
Marsha sent me a lengthy column she came across. No author. The words intuitive. I share come with you.
“I wonder
..why we all seem to be Russians waiting in line for toilet paper, meat, and Lysol.”
“Why we all look like we are in bad need of a haircut or a facial or a reason to dress up again and go somewhere.”
“There are no images of the first family enjoying themselves together in a moment of relaxation.”
“We are rudderless and joyless.”
“We have lost our mojo. Our fun, our happiness.”
“We have lost the challenges and the triumphs that we shared and celebrated. The unique can-do spirit Americans have always been known for.”
“We are lost.”
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Do whatever you can to help the cause. Few are they who are not touched by its curse.
There is an urban exodus. A return to the suburbs. A topic I have written about many times.
There are three reasons for the exodus.
The first involves technological improvements. People can work from home. The second the destabilizing threat of rising crime in the cities. Third and finally, people cannot make a living in the cities as they once did. Tied into the fact that city rents and living costs have failed to recognize that fact yet and make city living very expensive.
The urban exodus is expected to be an accelerating one over the long term.
A common example of the financial crush city living is causing, many live in flats with multiple roommates.
Key West is not the only City experiencing the dilemma.
Even great cities sometimes go away. They cannot seem to make it back. Goats were grazing in Rome’s Forum a few decades after the Empire collapsed.
On this day in 1995, O. J. Simpson was acquitted. “If it doesn’t fit, you must acquit.”
I watched the trial everyday for 3 months. Would not miss it.
I had rented a condominium at 1800 Atlantic for the season. Except for 2 days when I had to fly back to Syracuse for a sensitive hearing, I remained in Key West.
My days all the same. Up early. Walked the ocean along South Roosevelt Boulevard. Back to the condo. 1800 had a great pool. I took a cool refreshing swim and laid out on a lounge to sun dry.
Then my day really began. Watched the trial from the comfort of a barcalounge. Exciting! My eyes and ears remained fixed.
The evening was a late dinner somewhere. Generally at Square One. It had become a meeting place. We joined our local and snowbird friends most evenings there.
This is the fourth day in a row that Hackley has written in his 1855 diary about his piles. The poor guy had a real problem!
He wrote, “The piles will not stay up and are very sore. Bathed in the tub yesterday 3 times. Kept a piece of cotton with ointment on the parts and put some more Mustang Liniment on at night.”
I write about poor Hackley’s medical problem because I had a serious hemorrhoid problem twice in my life. Surgery for the first. The problem returned however.
Strangely, nothing seems to have changed as to how to medicate the problem. Every thing today as it was in 1855. I  lived in a hot bath, tried all kinds of ointments.
May Johnson continues to fascinate me. I make the following observation for the second time. Conservative school teacher May is not the quiet angelic type. She is not even good looking as the one photo I have seen indicates.
Yet she has the men here in Key West and away chasing her. Or maybe she is chasing them.
She went dancing at La  Brisa last night with Charlie and Fritot. They gave her a letter from Everest. He never comes home. Supposedly “her love.” They write and she goes out with others in Key West.
Even her mother appears upset with her meanderings.
After La Brisa, the three “went to Sybil Curry’s, lots of boys and girls there. Charles and I came home at 11 o’clock. KICKING TIRED.”
She warns that a “cyclone is brewing.” If it hits, it will be interesting to read about an 1896 hurricane from a person who was there. An
I have been self-quarantined for way more than 200 days. I gave up counting at 200.
Not a very exciting time.
Tonight is Cocktails at 7.
I met Cathy over the internet. Cathy lived in Key West in 1988. She read the blog and wrote me. We became friends.
A long distance romance, if anything. Cathy lives in Seattle, Washington.
Whatever, I have come to enjoy my one night a week having a drink via Skype with Cathy.
Her dog Lucy is part of the experience. Lucy always on Cathy’s lap. Lucy is blind.
Enjoy your Day!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLIE BROWN was originally published on Key West Lou
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shananaomi · 7 years ago
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2017.
Giving myself an hour on the clock to get through this, if at all possible. (ETA: Done!) 
Here’s 2016.
What did you do in 2017 that you'd never done before?
I have such a great answer to this that I’m still not ready to write about. Ask me in person and I might tell you. Also: went to yoga fairly regularly and found I both could and wanted to lay peacefully in one pose or another for 5 or 10 minutes at a time.
Did you keep your New Years' resolutions and will you make more for next year?
We did in fact #GetFitToFightFascism, or anyway on days when I didn’t know how else to treat the creeping anxiety I got up and hiked to the Observatory or somewhere else so ridiculously stunning that I felt slightly reassured we’d live another day. We were determined to see our BFF Jamie every Saturday night and except for weekends when one of us or the other was out of town or we had plans already for the weekend we had a near-perfect attendance record. And though I didn’t think I wrote that much, I got enough out in TinyLetter (now backposted at Medium) to add up to a decent Twitter thread last week. 
I always feel like next year should maybe be its own post, but for now I’m thinking about: Writing, always. Reading more. And finding a way to host maybe monthly dinners for small groups of our friends at home.
Did anyone close to you give birth?
My childhood best friend’s daughter was born on New Year’s Day 2017 and we finally got to meet her last week. She is able to reach for and drink from a glass of beer so I think she’ll be just fine.
What countries did you visit?
This was a year between big adventures out of the country, but we just booked a February getaway to Puerto Vallarta to celebrate the 10th anniversary of our first date. Went back and forth to New York a few times, plus a quickie up to SF for work.
What would you like to have in 2018 that you lacked in 2017?
Confidence the pendulum will in fact swing back from fascism.
What date from 2017 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
I guess the run from January 19 (Hamilton) to January 20 (bus trip from NYC to DC, with the worst possible welcome from post-Inaugural attendees) to January 21 (meeting up with so many old friends at the Women’s March). The rest is still vividly sharp but not so much tied to any specific date.
What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Surviving it with some semblance of hope. Making the move to a better, bigger place in Pasadena. Leading a loyal and devoted staff through a major corporate transition and many other hard challenges.
What was your biggest failure?
I have never done anything as hard as being a boss lady, and I’m still not sure most days I’ve left things at least better than I found them.
Did you suffer illness or injury?
For the first 9 months or so I got super sick every single goddamned month: a recurring case of America, I called it.  Overall I’ve been very lucky.
What was the best thing you bought?
The peace of mind that privilege allows when you need to pay your way out of a loud, anxiety-ridden neighborhood for the quieter (at least most days) and more serene outskirts of town. A weekly outlet and focus for my physical stress in the form of the most amazing personal trainer. A 40th birthday blowout weekend that included renting the most ridiculous house (as seen when CJ fell into the pool in The West Wing), hosting a dinner party and then pool party for so many of our friends and family.
Whose behavior merited celebration?
My wife’s, always. Because all I do these days is listen to Kesha, I’ve been thinking about these lines:
I know forever don’t exist But after this life, I’ll find you in the next So when I say “forever,” it’s the goddamned truth
Where did most of your money go?
The house and moving into it, the car, the trainer, the birthday celebrations.
What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Did I?
We discovered Two Bunch Palms, an old getaway near Palm Springs that soothed my soul in quiet calm ways I hadn’t realized could be so close at hand or that I needed so much. This year’s LA Pride parade became a protest and was the most joyous and community-filled day like that we’ve felt in a long, long time.
What song will always remind you of 2017?
This fairly goes to Kesha’s “Praying,” but since I already wrote a whole thing about that, I’ll say Julia Michaels’ “Don’t Wanna Think,” in part because I listened to it on repeat for so many hours in a row while flying back and forth from New York that it’s kind of embedded in my subconscious: I’m not really one for drinking songs, but — fuck it, here it comes. Heartbreak is annoying, and I’ll feel it in the morning. Swallow it down like a bitter pill. At least it will taste better than this feeling will. I don’t like myself when I’m just standing still.
Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? Happier, though I’d say that’s grading on a goddamned curve for real.
ii. thinner or fatter? About the same, if trimmer and stronger in some places.
iii. richer or poorer? Close to a draw here, more or less.
What do you wish you'd done more of?
I was happiest when I was hiking, reading, sitting quietly on the couch with my wife and dog. I did a decent amount of all that but it was still to keep my head above water.
What do you wish you'd done less of?
Be on the goddamned internet. But I’m also aware that finding the right balance between awareness and mindfulness and rest and action is the most pervasive and elusive self-care challenge for literally everyone I know, so I’m trying hard not to give myself a hard time about it. And there’s probably something here to say about the betrayal and pain that came from incorrectly trusting people to be their best selves instead of being undeserving of the benefit of the doubt but I am working so fucking hard at leaving that behind in 2017.
How did you spend Christmas?
In Reno with my family and friends, bouncing between two houses full of other people’s people (and mine) and a lot of very rich and exotic meats and liquors. The last couple years have been really hard and not well-balanced or rejuvenating visits, and this year was much better if still not without its own drama.
What was your favorite TV program?
New: Star Trek: Discovery was almost everything I needed in a show this year. Also I loved The Arrangement and found it way smarter and more complicated and fucked up than I’d expected.
New to me: I was only a little late on Riverdale but found it very enjoyable.
Oldies but Goodies: Also I watched a lot of older Star Trek, from TOS to the early movies. Everyone keeps saying next week need to do DS9, so I guess that’s the kind of geek I am proudly now.
What friends did you make or meet this year for the first time?
All but one were not new but I really loved our all-girl get-togethers to watch hockey even when we barely paid attention to it.
What was the best book you read?
I didn’t make a real resolution about reading more but boy did I. It’s just so much better than being in the world or on the internet. The ones that really stand out are Queen of the Night by Alexander Chee (not from this year, but my fave read from it), John Green’s Turtles All the Way Down, and Amy Bloom’s White Houses, which comes out in a couple months. If we’re not already GoodReads friends come find me there—I’m terrible at writing reviews but I find it super helpful personally to know what y’all have read and liked?
What did you want and get?
A new house.
What did you want and not get?
A Japanese wooden soaking tub of my very own. (See below.)
What was your favorite film of this year?
We just saw Call Me By Your Name last night and now I can’t think of anything else. Though I’d say the sheer joy of Wonder Woman is still a solid contender.
What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I was 40, and I took 5 days to basically do only what I wanted, and it did the exact trick I’d hoped for: I just enjoyed it instead of ruthlessly evaluating what I haven’t done with my life.
What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? What political issue stirred you the most? Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
I am going to charitably say the answer to all three of these is both obvious and tiresome. Be better, 2018.
How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2017?
Lots of jumpsuits and DVF, all courtesy a Rent the Runway Unlimited subscription, which also falls under where all my money went but was a ton of fun and practical in many ways too.
What kept you sane?
Remembering how many amazing women are already in my life and know exactly what I mean even when I can barely say it out loud.
Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Ugh, this one feels too much like work and also like tempting fate.
Who did you miss?
For the first time in a while there were frankly some people who I miss greatly but was glad didn’t have to live through this shit themselves.
Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2017.
Just because it could have been worse doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be better.
Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
Here’s what I wrote about 3 songs that shaped my 2017. I don’t think I can do much better in one quote.
What’s one photo that sums up your year?
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hamilkilo · 8 years ago
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Origins
Prompt: part 4 of Brawl in the Streets, the reader is super wasted with the Hamilsquad and unlocks their origin story. Pairing: Poly!Hamilsquad X Reader TW: cursing, drunk, alcohol, crying, mention of sex, second hand embarrassment(???), reference to masturbation, really funny origin story??? A/N: here's PART 4: BRAWL IN THE STREETS!!! I hope y'all enjoy! I was excited to write this! Thank you for all of your love and support! I love y'all! If you want me to tag something, let me know! I want you to feel safe when reading my work! Please enjoy! Word Count: 1875 "Hey, hey, guys, hey..." you called out from the couch, where you were facedown. "I've got a knock knock joke." The boys were quiet, waiting for you to say it. "Go ahead," Alex finally instructed. "Okay, okay..." you paused, thinking. "Wait, why are they called knock knock jokes? Do people even knock anymore? Why is it not ding dong jokes? Have we not evolved?" "Oh my gosh, just tell the joke!" Herc groaned, and you laughed into the couch cushion. "Okay, knock knock," you started giggling into the couch at the joke you were about to tell. A chorus of who's there's rang out. "H-How many wiener dogs does it take to screw in a lightbulb?" "I don't get it-" Laf began to complain in a really harsh French accent. "None! They can't reach that high!" You began laughing hysterically. So hard, in fact, that you were moderately concerned you'd piss your pants. "That wasn't a knock knock joke!" John complained, and you rolled your eyes before you turned over and sat up. They had turned out the lights, and the tv was playing behind you. The bright light had gotten more annoying the drunker you'd gotten. "I'm bored," you complained, and John chuckled. He was sitting on the couch with you, just a drunk as you were. "We could change that, y'know," he drawled in a suggestive voice, and you blushed. He crawled toward you on the couch, and you squeaked before you fell off the couch. You landed on the floor and started laughing, the boys joining you. "Do we have any more beer?" You asked from the floor, thirsty. "We are not giving you any more alcohol!" Herc said, "You're so wasted!" "Am not!" You argued, and you tried to get up off the floor, but you wavered and fell on top of John on the couch. "If you wanted me that bad, you coulda just said so, Princess," he purred to you, and you giggled. "You wish," you teased before you snuggled into his shirt. "You smell good." He laughed this time and put his arms around you, holding you on his chest, "Only for you, darlin'." "Let's play truth or dare!" Alex suddenly called out. Lafayette quickly shot the idea down, "Non! Alexander, last time we played, you dared me to suck 'Erc's-" "And you did-" "Well, I didn't want to lose!" They squabbled, and you laughed, but you were also confused. "Wait," you said, and they both looked to you, "I thought you two were together... but you," you pointed to Laf, "sucked Herc's... peep...?" "Yeah?" Alex questioned, and you pulled your chin back into your neck in confusion. "So, I don't get it...?" Alex looked over at Herc, who looked to John, who looked at you, and they all started laughing. "You're so cute," John cackled, his chest vibrating beneath you with each peel of laughter. "I know... but that doesn't answer my question!" You looked up at him from your cozy spot, and he was looking down at you, making little crinkles in his chin where you could see a shadow of stubble growing in. "Sweetheart..." Herc trailed off, and Lafayette took over. "We're polyamorous," he explained. That's when it all made sense. Everything clicked together. "Ohhhh, I get it!" You smiled to yourself and nuzzled further into John, who gripped you tighter. You pulled your legs up closer to your body, straddling him effectively, but still hella comf. "So how long have y'all been together?" John began to run his fingers through your hair, "Hmm, I'd say romantically, about three years? It started out with just me and Alex... We'd all been friends for years before, but I really really liked Alexander-" "Aww, babe, you had a crush on me? That's embarrassing!" Alex exclaimed from the other sofa, obviously referencing Parks and Rec. "Shut up, Alex!" John threw a pillow at him. "Anyways, so we hooked up. Then, a few months later, Alex explained to me that he loved me, but he also had feelings for our favorite Frenchman, Laf, and at first, i was like, whaaaaat? Then, I realized that I had a lot of pent up gay in me and that I really liked him too, but we didn't know how he felt about us... For some reason, we actually thought he was straight...?" "It's funny because I'm actually the gayest!" Laf happily exclaimed from his spot between Alex and Herc. You laughed, and Herc wrapped his arms around him. He gave Laf a kiss on the cheek. "We know." "But, one night, before we knew how aggressive Alex was with truth or dare, we played it, and Alex dared Laf and I to make out, and that went about how you'd expect..." John trailed off and his hand twitched in your hair like he was back in that moment. "That's when they realized I'm ultra gay!" Laf slurred, his thick French accent almost making it unintelligible. "You're like a straight boi, but instead of saying no homo though, you gotta cut in and add no hetero to the end of like every sentence," Herc chuckled as he fiddled with Laf's fingers. "C'est la vie, 'Erc. Let me live," Laf complained, and Herc laughed again. "It's cute," he reassured his boyfriend. Laf cooed and turned to share a sweet kiss with Herc. You almost wept. It was just so damn cute. "It was shortly after that when I composed a letter, conversing with John at the same time, declaring how profusely I loved Laf, and how John and I wanted to have a relationship. I poured my heart into that letter... it was my everything. Heart and soul. I felt like the minute he'd open it, the skies would part, and the angels would start singing... God is there. He's weeping-" "'Is 'andwriting was messy, and I could barely speak English! 'Ow was I supposed to read the sloppy, pretentious, wordy ramblings of a sleepless man?" Laf protested from the spot on the couch. "It was beautifully crafted!" Alex protested, and Laf pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "I know, mon amour, that's why I 'ad 'Erc read it to me." He smirked, an inch from Alex's face, and Alex closed the gap this time. "So Laf hands me this leader with no explanation and is just like 'read it!'" Herc mocked in a terrible French accent, and Laf scowled at him, "And I read the letter, spoiler alert, Alex and John are super gay, but I didn't get all the way through. I was under the misconception it was for me, so of course I rushed to Alex's apartment, only to find he wasn't there; he was having dinner at the Washingtons' with John-" "Wait," you interrupted, "didn't the letter address who it was to?" Herc scoffed, "It said 'to our dear friend.'" "I'm sorry, but Marie‑Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de La Fayette is a lot to write for a header!" Alex shot back. "That's not the point!" Herc huffed, "The point is, I busted into the middle of the dinner, professing my love for them in return like a bad rom com, telling them, and the Washingtons, how gay I was for them, and those assholes just cackled!" "It was cute!" John laughed as he recalled the memory, earning a scowl from Herc. "It was mortifying!" Herc replied, covering his face with a hand. "At this point, I 'ad used Google Translate to interpret this letter since 'Erc just rushed out of the room in an 'urry, and God did not cry when I read it en Français. So I rushed over to this dinner as well and interrupted 'Erc's speech with my own." "At the very end," John begins to explain in between fits of laughter, but he can't get it out. He was laughing way too hard. "Martha gives a standing ovation and cries out, 'Oh, George! What a lovely performance! It was like a little dinner theatre! Lovely!' And George just goes, 'No, Martha, this was unplanned.... They're all gay for each other.' And those two assholes," Herc scoffed, "Were laughing so hard that we thought they'd piss their pants!" Alex is laughing with John at this point, but you're completely engaged in the story. "So all of us were so confused, and John and I had to go have a talk in the bathroom, and we concluded that we loved Herc too..." "It was a very confusing time..." John explained as his laughter quieted down, and you patted his chest soothingly. "So we come back out to find that Martha had downed the entire bottle of wine in celebration, and George had gone to bed, all within the span of like, two minutes. He had congratulated the other two, but said he knew it would happen eventually, and he had business in the morning. And like a badass, John opens his arms and says-" "Welcome to the Hamilsquad!" John shouts, and you almost fall off his chest in surprise. Everyone is laughing at this point, even yourself. These boys were too cute for their own good. "It gets better!" Laf exclaimed, and Herc roared with laughter. "Martha, drunk off her ass, shouts 'When y'all gonna fuck?' And George shouts down from the bedroom, 'Not while I'm in the house, boys!' And I fucking pissed myself!" Herc guffaws, losing it again. You're laughing so hard that you're light headed at this point. "He didn't actually piss his pants," John elaborated, causing you to laugh again. "This has been a wild story, and I just wanted to make sure you knew he didn't." It took a few minutes, but everyone managed to calm down. "So when?" You finally asked, and Herc snorted. "That night," John answered beneath you, and he bucked his hips in a mock thrust, causing you to slide and squeal. "And we've been in love ever since," Alex added dreamily like the end of some sappy movie, and Laf laughed. "I loved you before, mon cher," he purred as he grabbed Alex by the collar and pulled him in for another kiss. Suddenly, you felt a rush of emotion. You'd always been an emotional drunk. You bursted into tears, completely startling John. "Y/N? What's wrong? What is it?" He ran his fingers through your hair, trying to soothe you. "You guys are so in love... like, you all love each other so much, and I've got a vibrator at home with half dead batteries to come home to every night!" You were also an oversharer when drunk. The boys laughed, but stopped when you kept crying. John rubbed your back soothingly. "Don't worry, Y/N," he whispered, "You've got us." "Promise?" You sniffled, and John nodded. Then, in a really, really quiet whisper, he says, "I'd go straight for you." That one sentence is the first thing you remember when you wake up with a huge hangover in the morning, and it brings forth a question. Was he joking, or did he really mean it? Somehow, you'd developed a crush on these boys. You wanted the love they had. You wanted to be in the Hamilsquad. What had you gotten yourself into?
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cyberleaf69 · 6 years ago
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TWO  OLD  STAGEHANDS  REMINISCING
I bought a new device this morning(Black Friday), disrupting my savings to the tune of $278.19; this was NOT a doorbuster bargain, but was their least expensive 'laptop.' This purchase has relieved me of the burden of Google Chrome & brought back Cortana("Hey!"); also I have the use of my WiFi, and can stay in touch with the Amell family(up in those woods). When I ventured out this AM, it was about fifty degrees out; I got a biscut-breakfast at Hardee's, before negotiating my holiday purchase; after bringing my prize back to the room, I sped off to get 4 packs of cig's and some(6 for $1) donut sticks. Hurricane Michael has managed to permanently close down my Harvey's, so it's Family Dollar, Dollar General & Dollar Tree for now; this has increased expenses significantly, while reducing overall quality & variety. I'm sure to think of something else to write about, but for now, I'm sending this along.
Outstanding! Glad to hear from you. I had another episode with another blocked artery. I'm up to three stents now. This happened right after Michael blew through, so I'd been wondering how you were doing. This news is tonic for me.
sorry; I was checking out alternative forms of identification; not sure if this is tonic(because I'm tone-deaf), but I'll dash off something for a three-stenter; keep this up and you'll be setting off metal detectors at airports and courthouses; when you say 'episode' you should elaborate, even if you have to make the shit up; making shit up has become quite presidential lately RE:Hurricane Michael - about 7 PM, my power went out; luckily, between 5 & 6 PM next afternoon, it was restored I opened my drapes for lighting, and sat facing the window until around 12:30 AM, when the worst of it had passed that bitch was loud, and at one point, while still approaching from SW, one sheet of steel roofing blew off our U-shaped building; a shower of sparks as it blew across the parking lot got my full attention did you purchase a copy of "Whose Boat Is This Boat?" it took 30 min's to get this far...  updates and such[speaks to the age of the model I was sold @STAPLES] cheese grits on the breakfast menu, but first I'll be needing a shower
Of course we didn't catch the full fury of the storm, but we got plenty of rain and wind, I have several washed out sections of driveway I need to attend to, it's a rough ride down into the valley here. In regards to my ongoing heart troubles, in 2011 I had a blockage of the left anterior descending artery, that was causing great pressure in my chest, felt like an elephant was sitting on me, no heart attack with that event, but the docs implanted my first stent. The heart attack this past April was brought on by blockage of the right coronary artery, I aggravated my heart by over-exerting myself digging my dogs grave. That event was marked by rapid heartbeat, dizziness, sweating, confusion, and pressure radiating out from the left side of my chest. That blockage was remedied by stent number two. The latest episode at the end of October was preceded by a week or so of pressure and mild discomfort in my chest that was remedied by taking a dose of nitro-glycerin.  I awoke with that pressure, took a dose, didn't get any relief, I alerted Debbie, took another dose, but by then I was having difficulty breathing and having strong chest pain, Deb called 911 and gave me a third dose of nitro, at that time I was hyperventilating uncontrollably, sweating profusely, and the pain was very intense...I was sure I was about to die. The EMTs arrived, got me in the ambulance, took my blood pressure, and an EKG, drew some blood, analyzed that with the fancy computer analyzer and came back with "Everything looks fine, you don't appear to be having a heart attack." I got to the hospital, had a quiet morning and afternoon, save for the drawing of blood and the checking of blood pressure. Later that night though, I had six more non-heart-attacks. I won't go into all the drama wrapped around that due to my vitals all showing good normal indications. Anyway, I got my third stent early that next morning, after being catheterized and they found another blockage in the right coronary artery that was downstream of the second stent. Phillip, during those six non-heart-attacks I was truly sure I was going to meet the creator. I had told Debbie all those things you tell someone when you think you're dying. But apparently I've either got unfinished business or I'm just getting some extra time here on earth due to my exceedingly good looks, wit, and charm. ;)
good looks, wit & charm aside, since you have unloaded onto DEB all those last minute appurtenances, you should think about what must be/should be said about your time together since recovering from those six downstream pain events[& consider the high dose of TNT necessary for that most recent download]
We're getting ready for our Thanksgiving tomorrow. Lots of cleaning and such. I'll be in and out all day. Got yard-work to do now that the rain has passed. I have a fire going to save electricity, and the added benefit of warm glowing light is helpful. I've got to go buy a used bass guitar in a little while. I'm snagging parts off of it to make a cigar box bass guitar for Patti (Tuck) Tuckwiler's brother's Christmas gift. I'd already had my oatmeal & blueberries along with a patty of turkey sausage and a slice of toast. I let this guy named Possum hunt on our property, he gave me a slab of backstrap as thanks for hunting privileges. I'm thinking about having a backstrap on a yeast roll for lunch.
shower complete backstrap a la antlered-buck, I'm assuming had some online interaction w/TUCK[doubt she will remember] will your son attend tomorrow's feed? you sound pretty busy, so I'll catch up w/U later
oversized notebook w/no disk player[complicating printer connection]
trak-pad offset too far to left of center[due to hard drive's location to the right of it]; I keep right-clicking when I want to left-click I'm running down my battery for the first time today[not sure whether these rechargeables benefit from 'training'] still 'customizing' my task bar/I can use my 'task view' to 'see' what's down there[and access w/a click] tomorrow will be a 'shopping day' as I'm out of grits limerick is kinda fun most forms are the kind of challenge a writer loves I once wrote a Petrarchian sonnet[back in high school]; it was a love-poem to my girlfriend; in order to fit her 2-syllable name into it, without breaking with meter requirements, I wrote it as G_____[just one syllable]; this came in handy later; I was able to recycle my metric sentiments for future girlfriends. https://www.booksie.com/sent-messages https://en.wikichip.org/w/index.php?title=User:Phillip_DeNise&action=submit
My youngest son works for a company that resolves gift/cash card issues. They're well moneyed, they pay their employees very well, and they feed them like royalty. The company had bought a Thanksgiving feast for 9 people. They spent $1700 on that meal, that was catered by Olive Garden. There was so much food left that all the employees got to take home...like...doggy bags for elephants. My son brought some of that bounty to share with us for our thanksgiving dinner. We also had plenty of food leftover, so much that we sent all the family members home with food for days, and we still have much left in the fridge. I'm having some fettucine alfredo, and yeast rolls for my late lunch. I'd been busy cleaning and straightening from the dinner. Also I'd bought a $50 bass to sacrifice for parts I need to build that cigar-box bass I'd mentioned that I'd disassembled before taking lunch. I'm trying to stay busy and keep moving. Whatever amount of life I have left, I want to use as much as I can, as wisely as I can. After I wrap up this message, I'm going to chop some wood and get a fire started for this evening. It's supposed to be in the low 30s tonight. Cheers! I hope that laptop ain't making you crazy.
fettucine alfredo is one of my all-time-favorites; 1st time I had it, my sis made it at home; she did it so well that I was forever hooked; add smoked chicken breast & sliced, fresh button mushrooms, and...  well, Italian ambrosia; plain f.a. is the perfect side for veal marsala do you have to smoke all those cigars for authenticity?  ...probably a good way to end up w/John Prine's voice check came yesterday; I'll go to Liquor Locker at 11[as it is usually sans-customers then; less chance of a robbery], to get my wad of ca$h then $625 to motel-boss, $60 + any cash from last mo. goes into savings hidey-hole, leaving about 3 Benjamins for necessities
All the cash that I have to my name is tied up in two guitars and a guitar amplifier. Got them all up on eBay, and Craig's list, hoping some aspiring young rock star has a need...soon. I'm living off the fat of thanksgiving today. Got that fire going, saving on heating bills, and trying to figure out how to get the most cash I can for the HHR. I've got about 1.75 years to go until I can take SS early retirement. I honestly don't know how I'll make it that long, barring a minor miracle or a random act of kindness, but somehow we've manged thus far, I have faith and hope for better days to come. As far as cigar box guitars go, we find the boxes online or at tobacco shops in the area. I haven't had a cigar or cigarette since April when I had the heart attack. I do find myself "wanting" quite often but have taken up gnawing a straw, gum, or a toothpick. The good news is that it's saving me between $10 - $20 a week that I don't have anyway. Yay. Anyhow, I'm going back out to work on the cigar box bass. Peace to you Phillip.
get some sax-reeds for your oral gratification-smoking abatement strategy; a cigar box will make an excellent homemade resonator for a sax-like sample to feed into your reactionary music what changes when you claim your partial & have significantly improved your survival-horizon in the interim?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8buJ2-oD02E https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KDqoTDM7tio https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f2-XU8jm02o where do the best stories come from? editors are famous for taking out the stuff that isn't needed; old men have a similar process occurring among the aging neurons in their noggins; this is giving them a new voice; problem is:if they show their wizened faces, nobody will listen to them; time to employ a mask...  a truly vital issue that cannot be ignored Calories are units used to measure heat. Mammals maintain their body temperature by chemically converting starches and sugars back into H2O & CO2. When we burn hydrocarbon fuels, the heat production and the waste products are the same. Plants do just the opposite; they use the H2O & CO2 to store the heat energy in their starches and sugars. Down in Brunswick, there is a company called Hercules; when you pass by their manufacturing plant, you will see tree stumps piled high; they use the waste from lumbering operations to convert the cellulose into gunpowder. The lowly peanut vine, hosts on its root systems, colonies of bacteria[also plants] that 'fix' the nitrogen from the atmosphere, so that it is soluble[thus available to the vines for uptake through those roots]. Rotating to a planting of peanuts can quickly restore the depleted nutrients resulting from cotton or corn plantings. The lint caught up in the air circulating in a cotton mill can cause an explosion if rapidly oxidized. Corn silos can be dangerous concentrations of these plant-stored nitrates as well. As a child, I was the agent providing the fixed nitrogen, when I 'strowed sodie' about the roots in a plot of sweet corn. These crystals of explosive nitrates are chemically produced from nitrogen in the atmosphere. 'Scrubbing' the atmosphere of dangerous concentrations of CO2 can be done in a similar process. If the energy needed to trap the carbon can be 'captured' from sunlight, then the corn plants and explosive fertilizers can be dispensed with. If animal life forms are so much more intelligent than plants, then they should consider taking over all the terraforming functions that they mindlessly perform in their own self-interest. Terraforming distant Mars seems to depend heavily upon creating a breathable atmosphere there; what are our scientists doing about terraforming the Earth, where a kingdom of plant life forms could be better harnessed to accomplish our desired balance of CO2, O2 & N2? Climate change, probably in a warming phase, is increasing our atmospheric H2O; this will eventually reverse the warming trend. In the interim, it seems logical that there are locales on the planet which will benefit from the current trend; these are the places we should be colonizing. Diverting the hordes of humanity, that are fleeing the effects of climate change, into these mostly unsettled areas, not only solves the immigration problems of industrialized nations, but represents a tremendous business opportunity for expanding their struggling economies. These new colonies offer to the 'survivalists' among us, destinations where there is less government and enormous freedom to develop their ideas into social organizations that will promote their own desired political and economic change. No matter where they chose to go, they will still need shoes...  need clean drinking water...  shelters constructed from available materials[rammed earth domes are remarkably resilient] will immediately be needed; and what will they eat? Business solutions exist for almost every difficulty that such a growing society must soon encounter; why continue looking to charitable organizations and over-burdened governments for the answers?
Everyone now has the capability of being able to hide behind a digital mask on them damn interwebs. Here we have the vastness of mankind's accumulation of knowledge, and people choose to watch cat videos on facebook. There's really not much hope for people in my best estimation, masks or not. I understand why there needs to be a revolution of the mind, heart, and soul. I understand that I'm not the only one that sees this, and I'm glad I'm not alone. One of the problems we face today is the blessing/curse of the internet. People aren't using it so much as a learning tool, but rather as a distraction from all the folly of the times. That said, I'm going off to work on a box.
time actually flies when we are having so much fun; my cheese grits are already at stage one[awaiting the time when I shove the green plastic bowl into the nuke-o-wave, while those frags of kernal-corn soak/soften in cold water], I'm fully dressed & the bed is made; the TV is on & I'm halfway through my first cup of joe and my first cigarette[which I have stubbed out and noticed that the first half was the most generous one]; a great noise is being raised outside my place[some sort of gas-powered welding machine], so staying in bed would not have been a workable alternative; it's rainy out, which is a meteorological condition that could remain in place for three days; I saw that coming, so I visited my nearest Family Dollar yesterday, when it was seventy-two degrees and sunny GATOR used to be right here "gator takes a ride" is my visual offering for today; not sure why the hands call him gator, but getting sent up to the loading bridge is probably a status indicator; I spent a lot of load-in's & load-out's watching and listening from high above the groundlings; I was also rewarded with a department head's position on a national tour for having filed an NLRB charge; that got me to thinking IATSE Local 41 is still on display in cyberspace; do you ever go there? That is where I snatched this image for my ACER. I snuck in using a private browser & made off with my prize. "behindthemain" reminds me of something my Dad used to say; "Once you back your ass up to the teaser, you'll never be able to go back." The age of Rock 'n' Roll was the greatest AGE because they wrote songs about US! How cool is that? What is totally uncool is my mail.com, which has just refused to send this draft until I remove my stolen image; so just imagine a close-up of a stuffed gator-doll perched on an arbor loaded with counterweight which was originally posted by some dude called @behindthemain
Time, at least for me, has become compressed. Three days, maybe a week will go by in the blink of an eye, and there's really not much I can do to slow the procession. The best thing I've found that I can do is create, fabricate, manufacture, and repair. Just trying to stay, to keep from spending too much time in my head. Now there's a dark place. I wouldn't send anyone to spend any time there. One problem is that of psychic transmission on my part. Bad enough I should have to spend time there in my mind, but I was also gifted with the ability to broadcast my thoughts, so, certain lucky "receivers" get to share the "Matt experience". I generally know who's getting that broadcast because they either don't know me but they're able to complete my sentences, or I'll be thinking of or about a person that I know, and they will call me on the phone. If the case is the former, those people tend to try to stay away from me. I'm thinking they can't handle the stream. If you're in the latter group, we're connected. Probably always have been. Determining which thoughts are your own, and those that come beaming in seemingly out of nowhere is the catch to all that. Thoughts??? P.S. I don't consider myself a receiver, but maybe I just can't sort my thoughts from the thoughts of others... Herman Hill passed away a few days ago. He was a receiver of my thoughts. I bet it was confusing for him to be in proximity of me.
intelligence originating from without, as you should already realize, is sorta my thing if I have connected with your interior spaces in the past, I must assume that it did not seem so dark to me I would remember being put off in such a manner
Deb & I have been buying, selling, and trading electric guitars, and amps. Unofficially we are Pocataligo Guitar Exchange. I also do minor repairs to electric guitars & basses. We've flipped 4 Squire Bullet Strats, an ESP - LTD EXP200 Explorer copy, and a DeArmond M65C Les Paul Studio copy, as well as a Peavey Mark III Citation bass amp head, and a Peavey Citation Mark IV guitar amp head. The fun thing about this is that we get to try all kinds of gear that we wouldn't ordinarily get to play with. :)  
now you will be needing a PGE logo; some consideration should be given to the silk screening process, when you select a design; the reason for this being cheaper T-shirts and complete PGE control over their manufacture & distribution; just sayin'
1st things first - incorporate as an.LLC. Get a bi'ness license. Then we'll get around to tee shirts and what have you. This will also be the outlet for any cigar box creations.
LLC's are pure crap; there are many ways to protect your #1 asset[your residence] from liabilities you may not see coming, while operating this[any] business at your residence; you can pledge the equity in a residential property as collateral for a small business loan, while your LLC could not; of course your CFO[DEB] would need to chime in on such risky decisions[but risk is what living is all about; security a delusion] got up early[9:03] as per usual on Sunday, in order to catch Jane Pauley on CBS; NOT! there is a tornadic fear monger down in Tallahassee pre-empting the network broadcast to tell me that I need to get in my safe place; all last night there were alerts interrupting my TV-viewing; this 'storm' is indeed unusual for December, with lightning & thunder[started hearing rumbles about 8 PM while watching "Rampage"]; there have been accumulations down here between 2 & 3 inches, but no real cause for flash flood warnings[every 5 to 7 minutes]; added to that sort of aggravation, I'm now an expert in the minutiae of George Herbert Walker's 94-year-long public life[best part is watching secret service guys puking up their guts while an 85-year-old maniac races his speedboat around Kennebunkport's rocky shoals]; if TRUMP died suddenly, we'd really be consigned to TV-hell; so, those warnings expire and they start six minutes of backlogged commercials; sheesh!
Cocoa Beach secret stagehand local?
Titusville; Dad had a friend down there; entire membership of this four-digit film unit was featured on the cover of IA Bulletin
One of the reasons we ditched Atlanta and moved out here was the abundance of nature out here. Ample wildlife, some wild berries and muscadines to be had in good years, plenty of breathing space, no bumping elbows with neighbors. Deb took this picture about 10 minutes ago...
when I go hunting for muscadines, I take along a paper sack; I collect a few in my sack & leave them on that 'shelf' below the rear-window of the jalopy; now the car is infused with the most wonderful odor[perhaps for weeks to come]
It's beautiful, mild and partly cloudy today. I may get out and try to find a good sized deer to take down for our winter meat needs. Possum put up a deer stand that's fully enclosed, about 10 feet above ground that I may go sit in to see what comes by. Rick Scheuerman had a great idea - there's a hangout in Athens named Nucci's Space. It was originally a place where one could rent musical rehearsal space by the month, that also has a coffee shop. I think, as I recall the story, that Nucci had committed suicide, but someone kept Nucci's Space up and running. So one of the things they do there is have auctions of art and musical instruments to provide support for depressed/suicidal people. Rick suggested that I take some of these old beat relical guitars that I have in abundance just sitting around, make them into pieces of art, and either donate or perhaps take a small percentage of the sale of these items. What sayeth thee old friend?
I like the auction angle[not so much the 'cause' enumerated]; also, auctioning off unwanted guitar-bodies converted into 'art' would not provide the benefit I imagine; I think you should cobble together an instrument, using all your acquired skills, that is meant from its conception to be auctioned off @Nucci's Space; the bidders would be local musicians/collectors that you'd be pleased to meet[& that may commission lucrative projects going forward]; no charge for this wonderful idea
the Athens music scene has developed a somewhat muted presence online; it was in emergence-stage, when I was dating my 1st wife & made the drive frequently in my VW-van, fitted w/8-track stereo system sorry I did not mention my amazement at DEB's photo of tomorrow's lunch; I'll use that image for cover art soon, and look forward to gator's comment on it once I have the TITLE, I'll know what to write about in the contents; these images can entice many more clicks, and that is what I'm exploring @Booksie.com my 'editor' sucks, but I'm also exploring better ways to make use of its features; learning as I go keeps me busy at this keyboard not much real interaction with other readers/writers has occurred; there is a moderator calling himself Booksie Guy; BG is probably not a BOT, but I have not really gotten to him yet I tried to get a new persona at Retirement Online, but have not heard back from its Appleton, WI moderator/witch checked out 'online banks' without any success; ALLY requires govt.-issued ID to open an account if you had been able to open my home-video, you could have seen me vibrating; my tremors are pretty bad, and when my paycheck arrives, I usually sign the damn thing first thing in the morning, before I have my coffee; this seems to make the scrawl more legible my typing ability is affected, and this over-sized keyboard is a help with my target acquisition difficulties https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uVlSVkzbJDA check out the antiquated studio equipment featured here
Gary Jules, Michael Andrews
All around me are familiar faces Worn out places, worn out faces Bright and early for their daily races Going nowhere, going nowhere Their tears are filling up their glasses No expression, no expression Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow No tomorrow, no tomorrow And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take When people run in circles it's a very very Mad world, mad world Children waiting for the day, they feel good Happy birthday, happy birthday Made to feel the way that every child should Sit and listen, sit and listen Went to school and I was very nervous No one knew me, no one knew me Hello teacher, tell me what's my lesson Look right through me, look right through me And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take When people run in circles it's a very very Mad world, mad world Enlarge your world Mad world
The cover art is from a photo taken in 1968. The building featured was a new one, and I graduated from Bass High School on its stage. Most of the boys were headed for college...  or Vietnam. I chose the former, and believe that it has made all the difference. When roads diverge in a yellow wood, noticing their width and worn condition is just one approach to the decision-making quandry. I was taught to choose door number three. 1968 was a good time for such choices, and many of my contemporaries made just such a definitive choice. If you possess the technology to view/listen to DVD's, might I suggest the enhanced edition of WOODSTOCK; the movie. You'll see what many of those, that chose door number three, looked like. My graduating class was small by most standards; we chose to sing a song from "Man of La Mancha." But we 'walked' in a less-prescribed manner. I drove off in a Renault Dauphine with a slow-moving-vehicle sign attached to the rear. Though I might like to be eighteen again, at the time, I was not looking back. I did return to this building many times though; I worked there on many occasions. Sometimes I worked on that stage; sometimes I worked in the exhibit hall at the other end of the complex. The construction of this facility, by the municipality, was considered to be an important urban renewal project. That is how 'buttermilk bottom' disappeared from Forest Avenue. Another blight vanished when Fulton County Stadium went up. In 1951, the city received the All-America City Award, due to its rapid growth and high standard of living in the southern U.S. Annexation was the central strategy for growth. In 1952, Atlanta annexed Buckhead, as well as vast areas of what are now northwest, southwest and south Atlanta, adding 82 square miles (210 km2) And tripling its area. By doing so, 100,000 new affluent white residents were added, preserving white political power as well as expanding the city's property tax base And enlarging the traditional leadership upper-middle-class white class. That class now had to room to expand inside the city limits. Federal court decisions in 1962-63 ended the county-unit system thus greatly reducing rural Georgia control over the state legislature, enabling Atlanta, and other cities, to gain proportional political power. The Federal courts opened the Democratic Party primary to black voters, who surged in numbers and became increasingly well organized through the Atlanta Negro Voters League. Rush week was soon upon me, and I attended two of the parties; choices! ALPHA TAU OMEGA was where one of my acquaintances at work had become a paddle-wielding brother, so I checked out their presentation. As a sort of back-up plan, I also checked out the men of ALPHA EPSILON PI; they checked me out as well; I was rejected on religious grounds. Time for door number three. I carried a full load for four consecutive quarters at my new school, before that other door presented itself. From Fall Quarter of 1969 until Fall Quarter of 1970, I was out of school, but stuck to my solemn vow to return in one year[against all the odds]. It had been too cloudy and overcast to see the eclipse of the sun that year; there was a lot going on that I did not see very clearly. When I returned to school, I changed my major from 'undecided' to ANTHROPOLOGY; a Greek professor guided my acquisition of this love for studying men; he was Greek Orthodox, and would have been rejected by those men at AY-EE-PIE as well; he took his 101 class to the Church he attended, and we followed the liturgy in Greek[and wrote a paper on the experience]. The mosaic in the dome was impressive. I never adhered to my degree 'program,' and so I never graduated from GSU; a classmate from Bass had gotten his degree in just four years[Class of '72]; I ran into Ross at SEARS, where he was selling tires; I went back to that stage, where the Class of '68 had sung about walking on through the wind.
Everyone knows that without a valid photo ID, you cannot purchase a box of breakfast cereal. The folks across the wall will need a better system, and the increasing use of bio-metrics[by connected data terminals] is a giant leap for the AI kind. UPC's can be scanned to track products as they change locations. RFID's are often laminated into photo ID's, so an employer can track his/her minions, and control their access to sensitive areas within their workplace. In the US, your SSN connects you to an exhaustive data base that 'knows' how hard you work, how much compensation you receive and where your 'assets' are currently being stored. What can be 'learned' about an individual, and how quickly this new data can be accumulated, attached to the appropriate individual files and how quickly those updated files can then be assessed is what AI exists for. Current business models[like at FaceBook & GoogleChrome] will each gradually lose its earning potential[a process being accelerated by the public sentiment in favor of government regulation of all their data collection and sharing practices], as the flow of data becomes more centralized and access to those files and data streams more restricted. The global expansion of connected Android devices is shifting the product consumption patterns in growing/struggling economies towards some ill-perceived goal, that becomes more and more achievable with each passing minute. Both of the big 'data players' in the streams of ones and zeroes now being catalogued here in the US, have made agreements to share it with our government. If we assume that there are adults in the room, where the analysis of this growing horde is being coordinated, then we can also assume that some of those individuals will be targeted to administer this collection and analysis process, once that 'responsibility' is transferred to a more 'independent' entity, resembling the Federal Reserve in its organization. At that point, the elected representatives in government will be reduced to an ordinary subset of identified individuals, to be monitored and manipulated by an increasingly automated system. If the drones can find you, you could be quickly eliminated. What will determine your value to that global system? Your consumption patterns is the obvious answer; BUY WISELY! I'm off to get an HBO fix; at eight they are replaying a missed episode of "My Intelligent Friend" just for my benefit; this series is filmed in Italian & broadcast with English subtitles; this makes it difficult to enjoy the imagery, because I'm busy reading so I'll know WTF is going on.
AI may be the thing that brings us into full globalization, perhaps the issue that preachers in my past have warned us about. Our baptist preacher out in Mableton used to hand out Watchtower pamphlets that had articles regarding the evils of globalization. Hmm ... to be overseen by the great computer in the sky (cloud networking).
I've been keeping my cloud-connection turned off
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bixby_(virtual_assistant) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jen_Taylor https://www.pcworld.com/article/2099943/microsofts-cortana-digital-assistant-guards-user-privacy-with-notebook.html https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invoke_(smart_speaker) https://www.ask.com/youtube?q=cortana&v=DxrJWSi_IWo https://www.windowscentral.com/why-splitting-cortana-and-search-windows-10-makes-sense https://www.zdnet.com/article/microsoft-moves-key-technologies-including-cortana-from-research-to-product-groups/ https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2012/06/inside-the-architecture-of-googles-knowledge-graph-and-microsofts-satori/
https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=ASMR like those furries, these 'artists' are being accused of deviance; what say you? https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=furry+fandom
To be sure, I'm not understanding the nature of adult cos-play.
cable TV is definitely turning my brain to mush, but some furries have serious behavioral issues that can be mitigated by their cos-play; ASMR is the new player on the block, and their 'offerings' have been 'taken down' on multiple forums as somehow inappropriate; I find this lack of freedom[of expression] to be indicative of rapid 'political' corrosion of the medium; that button labelled REPORT would be less attractive, if your reporting history came up with your profile info; STFU would be door # 3 Gibi explains it quite well:  https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCE6acMV3m35znLcf0JGNn7Q
I'll start back driving for Uber or Lyft later today, after having taken some time off due to those pesky heart issues. I didn't feel confident driving people around knowing that I was possibly still at risk for another "coronary event". The cardiologist has cleared me to return to normal activities. I didn't start driving for these ride-sharing companies to impress anyone, hell there sure as shit ain't nothing glamorous about carting poor people around all day. What it does give me is nearly instant income that I can access almost immediately after giving someone a ride. Pair that with there ain't a boss riding my ass. I can drive whenever I want to, I set my own hours. And lastly it gives me something to do beside sit here and piss and moan about things over which I have no control. :) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tg0BNTebcbY  
there are two types of people in the world; when your 'ride' climbs into your vehicle, do you re-adjust the rear-view mirror to center onto the face of the speaker; door #3 is insisting that he/she rides up front; keep on smiling RYAN wrote: I make projects of my experiences working UBER. Last video of this nature got a lot of attention- though, I deleted it to be (slightly) more professional. So here is another few weeks worth of footage. These videos have been for nothing but fun, and I'm glad others have appreciated them. It's awesome to have an audience watch something that I've created and I want to see if this little project can go somewhere. Those in my videos consented to being in my project, blurred identity or not. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pVOJ5ZfzjF8
my TV took a shit...  and now SANTANA is blaring; this album, the one with all those damn faces, was given to me by a chick that thought my DONOVAN eight-tracks were just not going to get me there; of course she was right...  and so there were drums in the house; another tape cart that was played in that house was WHO'S NEXT; I thought it was pretty good travelin' music, along with a Beatles-thing called RUBBER SOUL; gettin' high & gettin' out on the road was a pretty good way to pass the time on my gap-year; when I decided on ANTHROPOLOGY, it was mostly because it legitimized the study of sex, drugs & rock'n'roll...  so I studied...  HARD! playing this complete album seems to have slowed down the clock; that's an unusual effect; I'm shopping for a King Crimson video                 [  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=no8L51U_KlM  ]; not any WHO'S NEXT videos that do anything; guess I'll just let it play for awhile I get my TV going, and dammit...  the water goes off; they're out there digging up the street; probably gonna be off the rest of the day brewed my coffee w/ice cubes; just try and outsmart an old white guy...  go right ahead wrote a new ICU last night; about 40 peeks at it, w/no comments, so...  vanished new text has less film-script niceties...  less humor...  no dialog...
He had to admit...  he couldn't see a thing. A good bluff sometimes can win the pot. He spoke into the darkness, "I see you!" He hoped it had sounded convincing. Not a sound. Why had he come out here without his trusty flashlight? Only gonna be gone for a minute. Tell it to the wind. He turned with a confidence he wasn't actually feeling. In a slightly lowered voice, he spoke to himself as he walked away from where he thought the creature must be. "I'll be right back,...  so don't you dare move." Not a sound. He tried to imagine his 'creature' when it was not cloaked in utter blackness. The imagined lighting his mind put into those trees just beyond the clearing where his friend had parked his truck was of no use; he could see the trees right enough, but the image he needed simply would not materialize there. Not knowing what was there with him...  not knowing how far his friend needed to go in the truck to fetch water...  not knowing how fast he could make it to the imagined safety of the old cabin...  not knowing was making him sweat. And that creature could smell the fear...  smell the open containers with food in them...  smell where the truck had been parked, and the odor on that other one...  that was far away now. His thoughts were on the amaretto hidden in his sleeping bag; then his hand was on it. He poured into the tin cup...  the one he knew he'd left on the table; cup in hand, he closed and latched the rustic door. It was pitch black in the cabin too. He drank deeply. Forty proof means about twenty percent alcohol; better than a beer...  smelling better too. Now there was scratching and clawing at the corner of the door. "I'd pour you one too, but I gotta find that flashlight,...  first. Then maybe I can find another cup." He mock-toasted his little friend, and drank deeply once again. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UNMTthguCQ
confession:the only GARCIA I like has cherries & chunks of chocolate in it
I've been rummaging around in those dusty old memory-bins, trying to remember when I switched from eight-track tape-carts over to vinyl LP's; first came WQXI, and then FM-stations became a thing; we were at 481 Clifton Rd., by the time I bought a stereo system[I would have been a senior in high school at the time...  1968]; 8-trak player/amplifier w/2 speakers that weighed nearly nothing; in the next room, my sister[13 months younger] was spinning LP's of Firesign Theater, Mothers of Invention & Jimi Hendrix Experience to annoy me; I moved out of there JAN 1970, & took that same stereo system to my Briarcliff apartment; during those tape-cart-years, I was driving an old VW 'bus[w/windows all-round]' that was repainted blue & gray; I had a tape player[under-dash] professionally installed; two ceiling-mounted speakers and a six-volt to twelve-volt converter mounted on the pan beside my engine; you could hear muted spark-field-noise when your tracks played[like a subtle audio-tachometer]; this 'dustbin' is kinda like a public library filled with stories packed onto shelves that nobody ever disturbs; these stories have sacrificed chronological accuracy for other, more aesthetic consistencies; at this point in my recollection process, I believe that "Tea For The Tillerman" was a tape I had bought, and that "John Barleycorn Must Die" was purchased on vinyl; both these were released in 1970; one night, in that first apartment, I popped in a tape that I distinctly disliked, and slept all night while wearing bulky headphones, and while the tracks endlessly looped; Blood Sweat & Tears...  NYC's antidote to Chicago; I cannot remember when I bought a better home-system & a turntable, but I recall listening to Ten Years After, Grand Funk Railroad & Bloodrock; "The Survival of Saint Joan" was also an LP that I bought[released 1971 by a Tucker, GA garage band]. In 1972[Fall/Winter], I drove around the US in my '71 VWCampmobile[bought new], with nothing more than a German-built radio; the best I could do, was find a pirate station, broadcasting at major mega-wattage, from a tall tower located on Canadian soil.
over there, I'm friedlich I'm new there, having joined on Black Friday tonight, I ran across your e-mail address, in a COMMENT you had left most folks do not do that, and maybe you are different from most folks[that, at least, is my hope] I sometimes publish my e-mail address, trying to encourage a more image-friendly medium of exchange my privacy concerns are next to none, and anxiety over firewall-type protection against virus/worm/spam/whatever is negligeable the site reminds me of a multi-player game moreso than a community of writers of course, I'm still figuring out how to use the site for my own purposes I'm an older guy, living in southwest Georgia a retired stagehand; been writing since I quit working in 2005 not a boozer[or any other vice that costs money] caffeine & nicotine are my thing[like most writers...  ALLEGEDLY] my stories run the gamut, and there is a lot of it that could be described as non-fiction fiction is preferred, when stinging truths are being revealed a cloak of plausible deniability my favorite author is Neal Stephenson hands down but I read a lot of books, and admire some of the fascinating women who have chosen to write Barbara Kingsolver springs to mind  -  http://www.kingsolver.com/books/ send me something you are working on
Ready for rain. My youngest half-sister, Sandra, (who's roughly 16 years older than me) married this guy back in...66 - 67. Perry Carlton Buie, aka Buddy. I have no idea how or where they met. They had gotten a house over near Columbia Avenue, behind Belvedere Plaza. Sandra had two daughters in tow from a previous marriages, Belinda, and Johnnie. Belinda is two years my senior, Johnnie is 4 years younger. My mother and I would visit them pretty often, and they were all lots of fun to visit. Buddy was a budding song writer/producer that had been working with southern recording legend Bill Lowery. Bill at that time owned Mastersound Studio, and had a publishing company called Low-Sal. Buddy's first hit was a song called "I Take it Back" recorded by Sandy Posey'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-zoLSF_-3c
And that was the launch of a very successful career for him. I won't bury you under all the details of all the artists that he has written for. He passed away a few years ago.
When he was really starting to bring in the money he was working with members of Roy Orbison's stable-band, The Candymen. They had some nominal success, but The Candymen begat The Classics IV, which did very well and had a handful of top 10 AM radio hits. The Classics IV begat The Atlanta Rhythm Section. ARS did great in the album oriented rock (AOR) format. But as always success has a price. Sister Sandra was jealous and didn't trust Buddy, he was always around southern rock celebrities, and their hot ass girlfriends. Not a good combo, so that marriage flopped.
The real point of it all though, was to say that I had some early life exposure to the music industry and I knew back then that I wanted to be somehow in the business of working in and around music. A car radio installer. A stagehand cum audio assistant. A song writer and a casual player of guitar, bass, and synthesizers, and now a maker of fine cuban cigar box instruments. (laugh at the last one).
When Buddy would have the guys from The Classics IV come by for rehearsals, me and little Johnnie would hang out in the hallway listening intently to what they were playing. What I saw about Buddy that was so appealing to me was that he kinda just did what the fuck he wanted, when he wanted to, and had very few people to answer to.
I liked that aspect of R&R...
you told me about BUDDY once before, and now I get the CANDYMEN connection to that pineywoods thing you sent; did you visit Blue Devil-country often enough to learn your way around?  ...any Belvedere Plaza experiences that would make a story or song lyric? Those places were within cycling range of my Little Five Points-hood; my gang would even go fishing in a creek out there. Kids today ain't about shit; so much character-building movement across a sprawling urban environment; we weren't afraid, and we weren't over-supervised I'm writing about my Sunday morning, which is the only day of the week, when I make the effort to rise from my bed as early as 9 AM. I'm retired now, which carries with it the unquestionable benefit of 'sleeping in.' I make this conscious effort, because I cannot bear to miss the SUNDAY MORNING broadcast.
An interesting ARTICLE, aimed at baby boomers who read such 'posted material,' requires that I first do a bit of research. This morning's research has yielded the e-mail address directing this COMM to some unknown reader. What if this lucky recipient became known to all those that rise early on Sunday morning, like I have done? Such a story, to actually make the cut, would need to have some visual appeal...  something for the camera to 'see' that is not just another talking head. If it becomes about the many suggestions that are not considered by the show's producers, I'm imagining an over-the-shoulder shot of an INBOX displayed on a PC's monitor; boring...  right? Following the next suggestion that has some potential, through a chain of CBS News employees, into a roomful of writers and producers having the kind of discussion that ends with a proposal that will get funded, while turning the negative into a positive, still lacks the kind of imagery that will excite a camera crew. With the show's long history, many of the best ideas will have probably been done before, but a story about the technology that has changed the whole process probably has not been considered. Retired persons have an attachment to the kind of resistance to change that would permeate such a story. They also have a strong dislike for seeing a computer screen depicted as a character in a film or TV broadcast. And reading those texts that pop-up on the screen, because there is a SmartPhone in the scene, is particularly annoying. A surprising amount of the liesure time that retirement affords my boomer colleagues is devoted to online communication, by the many individuals who have made the necessary adjustments to modern technologies. These intrepid 'explorers' deserve a part in the story, but the visual appeal considerations must still be artfully applied. Some 70 million retired individuals make up a significant slice of an imagined pie-chart, that represent specific demographic segments to be considered as 'topical' by story creators up there. Please don't show us the pie chart...  boring! Show us the bewildered old guy, searching for a qualified salesperson at Best Buy, to guide his purchase of an affordable laptop. Engaging that much younger demographic, now driving story selection in those board rooms, is a key consideration, if I'm to get my story selected for production. So, lets have a look at that young salesperson, that gets to help the customer make this purchase of electronic gadgetry. Are we talking tatoo's, facial piercings and a blue tooth-device protruding from the ear canal? Do we focus on his/her need to pay off the loan that sent them to some university, that forgot to teach them about being over-qualified for that sales position they would end up in? The scene ends in two ways; the kid sells the customer more gaming capability than he'll need for Skype, his gmail account and finding his grandchildren's FaceBook pages; or,...  and this outcome is far more unlikely...  the grandfather bests the salesperson, walks out of Best Buy with the low-end device he can afford[and was surprisingly in stock] and encounters no insurmountable difficulty, when he turns the contraption on at his comfortable breakfast-table, later that day, after a frustrating 45-minute ride on a metro bus, and a 20-minute hike, from the nearest bus stop, carrying his purchase with tired old arms, and painful arthritic hands. The interaction between the two alien cultures, that needs to occur for a purchase to be transacted, holds out the best hope I have for this story to get made. There are casting considerations, of course; two actors with current shows on CBS works best, so who could we actually get? They should both maintain residences in the same city, and those probable 'locations' to be used during production should be near a cooperating Best Buy retail store. My Dad was a technician that was employed by CBS News, back in the film-days, when a 3-man crew was required to document a story. He would go out with Laurens Pierce when cities in the South were burning; a dangerous job at the time, for a man armed with a Sun Gun. I got lucky enough, just once, to get one of these call-outs from our local affiliate; the three of us lugged equipment up to a crowded office-space at CDC Headquarters; a story was breaking about syphylitic men going untreated, during a clinical study over in Alabama; the prepared statement that we recorded there, was hardly worth all the labor involved[much less the expense incurred due to union wages that were paid]. This 'story' has already been published; here is a LINK to the page:  https://www.booksie.com/577188-sunday-morning Please spare no expense with your REPLY to my e-mail. I'd like to add it to the story.
When I consider bits and pieces of the article, not viewed as a whole - "lacks the kind of imagery that will excite a camera crew."  that statement kinda stuck out. Who gives a fuck what motivates a camera crew? I'd think, and wtf do I know, that the union pay scale would in and of itself be motivational. Having put that out there, it was just the first thing that came to mind. For my edification, in this story, what is your objective? How easy or how difficult the purchase was to make? Beat the kid at the sales game? Having made the purchase, the seemingly sad and somewhat difficult trip home? Perhaps an object lesson about our aging boomer population? All of the above? I see angles. Perspectives. I see an opportunity to make Best (fucking) Buys a proletariat hero, which is just bullshit. I see an opportunity to attempt to make plain to the children of boomers how difficult life can be. I see an op to make the whiz kid at BestBuy look like a jerk. What made the bus ride so frustrating?
Q#1:crew excited by producer's idea will spend more time and produce more fascinating video; imagine being CBS's go-to guy for interviews Q#2:dual objective:sell someone @CBS to do such a story & use e-mail text as content for Booksie.com[fixing to go silver sometime today] Q#3:under 'all of the above' I was trying to imagine what a crew could do to illustrate 'the story' with video that might be doable; my first trip to STAPLES to buy[for ca$h] my new laptop left me leaving for Office Depot with 'urge to kill' etched on my wizened face; next to finding out that the model displayed, at a sales price I can afford, is no longer in stock, my 2nd greatest peeve would be that sales pitch to purchase the more expensive laptop, conveniently on display right next to the one they don't even have, pointing out all that upgraded capability, like he was trained to say to his customer, because he don't know HDMI from HTML; the portrayal of transportation difficulties experienced routinely by retirees, goes to the value to the customer of the salesperson getting everything right on his first try Q#4:at the very end where you highlight the frustration, it would be up to the crew here to depict in their visual medium, the sorts of riders one might encounter, on a ride that zig-zags through all the housing projects, picking up more annoying riders, or perhaps letting the worst of them get off, stopping too abruptly, engaging in stupid arguments over the payment of the fare that delay any forward progress, and arriving at the desired destination 45-minutes later, when a crow could fly that distance in about three minutes its been pretty quiet up that way,...  so a shout-out found a new 'place;' it's called bookrix throwin' life a spitter; got up about 7:30 when I do this, I end up snoozin' during my news broadcasts latest short story kind of a poke at LGBTQ's Y-knot try something new? might bring some of these trolls out of the woods kinda stole these paragraphs, for...  ??
The life of a writer is pretty solitary, both by design and necessity. While you may find yourself in the neighborhood coffee shop a few days a week just for a change of pace, being a writer can be lonely and quiet.
Well-meaning as they are, your friends and family don’t understand the nuance between conflict and crisis. Try as they might, they can’t relate to the complexity of creating a consistent voice.
It’s no wonder that writing and alcohol are familiar companions. But it’s not happy hour yet. Here’s the good news: you’re not alone. In fact, right this moment, writers just like you are actively participating in writing communities all over the web. It’s time that you meet.
don't care for the alcohol bit, but it might fly did the coffee shop bit; kinda cool, but I'm persona non gratis at the downtown one cain't afford that shit no more nohow; cain't even get it together for Burger King Dollar Tree had some tasty canned goods; a $1 can of red beans & rice went down smooth[& spicy] lady behind me in line says that it's $.89 @Wal-Mart the pie-filling I bought would be $2 @Harvey's trade-off looks like Mueller's plannin' a warm reception for those freshmen/women Congressfolk Macron's reception heating up across the pond[the two M's havin' a populist crisis too; Europe's toast] it all started @NAPSTER; not Putin's doin' like some think battery in this Windows lapbook is for shit still fightin' off the FANG crowd; my spam folder still empty, but saw a browser-history thing pop-up w/firefox this AM tried out my MS-internet explorer as plan-B, but BING keeps interferin' & there are other annoying features I use WordPad, so I don't activate my introductory Office suite if I shut down instead of sleep, I have to close the cloud thing that slips in firefox wants to be set as default[another bothersome keystroke] there was an MS e-mail account that can't be used without a phone for activation code figuring out workarounds is my puzzle-thing; won't even register for ACER is there some LINUX browser code? wouldn't want snoopy here to know I was looking into that friedlich is being shamed for trolling already gonna try for a haircut today; it's gettin' too long[sides & back] clipping backside tricky w/tools I got w/trimmer[blind barber w/shaky hands] then there's the mess to clean up there's always the pony-tail option I also have one of those wave-caps, if I go native looking at the side of this new LG, there are yellow[video], white[L or MONO] & red[R] inputs and an S-VIDEO thingy w/tiny pins no HDMI I should find something like the back-up drive you suggested that can 'go there' have not heard back from CBS; no surprise they found a dead body on the corner; not watching my local news broadcasts means checking online for further details maybe they were digging his grave when the water went off my rides to the store, often two trips, indicate a decline in my physical strength that is mildly disturbing after 935-days of incarceration, I had soon gained back some musculature three trips to my storage unit, bearing incredible loads, took a lot more physical prowess than I now command I reminded myself that 2013-2015, I used to hoof it to the store[about 1 mi.], and backpack/carry back my supplies cycling is a luxury I'd hate to suddenly lose this motel-living is also a luxury[said the once-homeless man] I gathered all my manuscripts into one pile[for disposal?] took out any 'identifying documents' for safekeeping also have one three-page ms in an envelope I'll send that way one day tried giving away some of this ladies' apparel, but I think I offended my neighbor-lady with the gesture she liked the costume jewelry that was swag/booty found on the floor of my plan-B hidey-hole across from BK running out of ideas here "lady on"
I can relate to having lost some of that muscle. After I had the shoulder replacement I was laid up for about 8 weeks. Couldn't use the left shoulder at all, and was in a sling/pillow assembly that kept the arm in a state of comfortable non-use. That was pretty much the beginning of the end for my muscle tone. I'm striving to maintain the strength I have. I never thought I'd be this diminished. I sometimes have trouble lifting a full gallon of liquids such as water or milk with the left arm. Pair that with nerve damage that's caused a loss of sensation in my hands...argh...it's frustrating, considering that there was once a time when I could lift a chain motor with 75' of chain with just the left arm. That day has come and gone. I'd love to go pull that shrimp net with you again. Some of the most fun I've had was down at St. Andrew's sound, especially during a mullet run, where the dolphins were snagging mullet that were jumping the nets. What a great show of nature. I'm off for my half-mile round trip hike to the mailbox & back, then back to work on this bass guitar wine-box project for Tuck's brother. I'm almost finished with that, I just have to install the neck, the volume & tone controls, solder all the connections, install the machine heads, and seal the box. Ciao4now. Seizure later agit8r.
Seizure later agit8r ain't bad; mine was Ricky's tagline my intro to chain motors resulted from the now infamous "A call is a call" policy instituted by Local 41 bakNtheDAY; I was offered the chance to say no or yes to the worst thing on offer, before being skipped until my name rotated all the way back around; there was great benefit, on occasion, to getting first crack at something nobody else wanted to fuck with; this 'strict' policy was also a great way for a crook to skip quickly over a lot of referrals, before starting to fill a film crew, with a long list of assholes that turned down anything not film related, in order to maintain their position in this 'privileged' part of the rotating list; a full-time stagehand, with no friends in office[never wanted any], had to say yes every time[endless 4-hour calls] in order to eat; my rigging days started when OMNI Coliseum was new; we routinely had a 5-man crew[one groud rigger]; most points were not directly below any steel accessible from the catwalks in the pods; this, of course, meant guaging the lengths of two cables, Y-ed together with a down-length, to hit the bullseye; this was not only years before riggers became spider-men, that could rig points from beams running between pods, but also years before roadcrews trooped enough cable to deal with arena-shit like the fukkin OMNI; the building had enough cable for their everyday rigging needs, but...  it was all 1/2" shit; add the weight of 30 to 50 feet of 1/2" cable, to about 90' of chain, and you get two men pulling against two other men in another pod, that they cannot see or hear; a good ground rigger was key, and you didn't want no sound puke up there pullin' on that heavy shit beside you; no pussies need apply! - a manly physique was the result, when most of the[by now hundreds of them] guys on the old rotating list found out what was required to say yes to a rigging call, and the list just spun right back to the last 5 guys that took a call at the OMNI; I got seriously beefed-up, before this bullshit came to an end[& before those spider-men showed up, and they started paying a premium wage to get them] I couldn't find any rigger-pics, but this attachment shows the connector tubing; access to the catwalks was from the roof; to access the steel at the apex of a pod, you had to walk up the outside of the pod, using a rope left dangling for the purpose; if brave enough, you could save a lot of time and effort, walking the very broad tube to the next apex position; one problem, however...  there was a crotch-height + 3" lightning rod half way across; not so bad far the tall cowboys
I got lucky having Reagan, Milo, Hokey, and Big Bob to show me the ropes as it were. The Fox and Civic Center were generally easy rigs with most points onstage being single-point because of the way the grids were laid out. The Classic Center grid is a different story though. with 7 main beams spanning upstage to downstage, and no beams spanning left to right, practically every point was a compound bridle. At least in The Classic Center you can see & hear the up-riggers. Also nice is that The Classic Center had installed expanded steel grates between the beams so you can stow cables and gear up there. I miss being a rigger. I miss being healthy enough to rig.
I think 'stinger' should read stringer here; a 'stinger' is a 10' grounded extension cord[I had to ask the Best Boy]; bridle, basket & chain-motor are okay; when I took my ground rigger's training in Vegas, there was only one correct way to lay out pieces and parts for baskets...  one way to engage the shackles with 'economic' motions of hands, feet & back...  one way to tie a completed bridle out on the floor so the high men could inspect the work before lifting; the up-rigger 'makes' the basket[shouldn't have to undo a shackle or untie a bowline knot, to secure the hardware properly]; at the fukkin OMNI, the poor ground rigger frequently had to hold the 1.5 ton motor overhead, long enough for his four guys to secure both baskets, because it's 110' to the apex & the chain was all paid out; at least, if held above the headbone, the dropped shackle ain't a killshot
know of wire-rope, and witnessed a splicing operation @OMNI one day; the splice was as long as the arena[cleared for the process] Kermit[Spradlin] tryed over and over to teach me to splice hemp; that turn-back on the end, that was what the old guys did[pretty quickly] when they cut a rope[often for a snub to tie off a line set], instead of all that gooey electrical tape, was about all I could ever handle; the other end of a snub[about 6'] had a short loop spliced into it[about 14" splice enough for securing the 'safety' to the pinrail] I still think that stinger is just wrong, Wrong, WRONG!
O Peaceful One, That’s what the word ‘friedlich’ means in my first language. And yes, I remember Linda Goodman and her books. The first one was very good, but by the time the second one appeared Linda had ‘caught’ spirituality and went way, way, way over the top with it. She invented a new numerology that did not make any sense at all, if I remember right and I can’t recall whether I read that second book to the end. It was a very poor affair and just cashing in on the success of the first one. God bless and have a good day, With love – Aquarius
2nd book disapointed the girls as well; they weren't half bad predicting love matches, nasty break-ups & etc. they would get your birthday in their crew-roster, and find the one for you my best match was the lighting designer, but he had too many other boyfriends[ballerino's everywhere] I'm PISCES, & the match w/wife #1  not so good[CAPRICORN]; next tour was a GEMINI that earned herself a full-length fur coat she was way too smart to become #2 my mentor was Aquarian man; smartest man I've ever known horoscopes are like fortune cookies; a dream-job if you are a writer[used to love the 'fortune' in BAZOOKA bubble gum] write the stuff correctly, and anyone will agree that his/her sign just got pegged; those coin-op dispensers don't have 12 hoppers Mary Alice Kemery a.k.a. Linda Goodman, of course, would not/could not agree but,...  who wouldn't rather have 12 good forecasts in each daily paper instead of[in my case] one fishy one the shepherd that first saw a maiden bringing water in the heavens over his thirsty head, should get more credit, than some ancient astrologer, wearing ermine, & bearing myrrh this mentor had a way about him[buckle-up,...  I'm talking about you now]; every person in his presence, big or small, credentialed or insignificant, would instantly be made to feel of prime importance; the sun shone upon you; this is bearing water, dear meanwhile, your defenses utterly destroyed, he'd be in your head...  deep in your head, figuring things out... for YOU...  for HIM...  for someone else, that he may not have even met yet...  well, that all depends on how the 'long game' plays out he could artfully manipulate anyone, make them feel good about it, and even if things turned out pretty badly 4U you loved him all the more...  hating only his enemies[that had attacked you, because he was invincible] he would take you to 'special' places, impart sacred knowledge only meant 4U, find things you thought forever lost all the things a magus commands he was quite the yenta as well[but would probably end up 'with' your perfect girl] he moved in some pretty powerful circles, and it was as easy as 'teaching' kindergarten children his favorite recording was a live one w/Neil Diamond enduring an actual Hot August Night this was, of course, him, singing his siren-song to every young girl in a 100-mile radius are you blushing yet DON'T I love you! Everything about you! I'm not, however, fixing to drink your blood.
when I ran away from home[1st & last time], I was driving my sweetie[Diane was a year older w/fiery red hair] in a red Renault 10 w/push-button transmission For 1963 (initially only in France), Renault offered an automatic transmission of unique design, developed and produced by Jaeger.[7] It was first shown at the September 1962 Paris Motor Show.[8] Although it was described as a form of automatic transmission at the time, in retrospect it was more realistically a form of automatic clutch, inspired by the German Saxomat device which appeared as an option on several mainstream German cars in the 1950s and 60s. The clutch in the system was replaced by a powder ferromagnetic coupler, developed from a Smiths design.[8] The transmission itself was a three-speed mechanical unit similar to that of the Dauphine, but from the beginning with synchromesh on all gears in this version. The system used a dash-mounted push button control panel where the driver could select forward or reverse and a governor that sensed vehicle speed and throttle position. A "relay case" containing electromagnetic switches received signals from the governor and push buttons and then controlled a coupler, a decelerator to close the throttle during gear changes, and a solenoid to select operation of the reverse-first or second-third shift rail, using a reversible electric motor to engage the gears. The system was thus entirely electro-mechanical, without hydraulics, pneumatics or electronics. Benefits included comparable fuel economy to the manual transmission version, and easy adaptability to the car. Drawbacks included performance loss (with only three available gears) and a somewhat jerky operation during gear changes. The transmission was also used in the Dauphine and the Caravelle. https://otto-models.com/en/  -  build your own Renault at 1/18 scale
This ability to do some figuring, is greatly enhanced, because of the rudimentary training I received, on how to use those FRACTIONS. Most classrooms today allow the use of calculators, even during exams. Some students, much younger than I, have trained themselves in the use of their digital assistant, through trial-and-error regimens, that work well for ONLINE GAMES. Learning long division is a thing of the past, but having learned that method greatly improves one's ability to calculate something in one's head. ESTIMATING the answer can greatly simplify these mental processes, while providing acceptable numerical results. You may not have a CALCULATOR handy, when you suddenly need the kind of guidance, that a numerical calculation could quickly provide. 'Scientific Calculators' are reasonably priced, and include many more FUNCTIONS, than their stripped-down companions on the shelf have. My favorite one of these added functions, at the touch of a button, causes a randomly generated three-digit number to be displayed. How utterly useful! Another pre-loaded data point, that makes these calculators much more useful, would be a FORMULA remembered from some geometry class, or a physics lab you endured in college. With a formula, and an understanding of the relationships between numerator and denominator of two separate fractions, you can do a lot of useful shit. This verity is the reason they sell calculators at Home Depot & Loew's. They also sell the kind of tools needed, to remove the electronic device from its bubble-packaging. A formula I like is the one for calculating the length of a circle, which uses both its diameter and pi[the Greek symbol that roughly equals 3.14]. This FORMULA is useful for calculating the speed at which our planet circles about the sun, if you remember how far away that star is. Using such a large quantity in a calculation, means that your answer will sometimes be represented in 'scientific notation.' This is to save space on the tiny read-out screen, and should not create insurmountable problems for the operator. Similar calculations, using the same formula, will tell you how many tulip bulbs will be needed, of each color that you have chosen, for several varigated, concentric circles, planted hastily in the FALL, when the bulbs are widely available, and much cheaper to purchase. Figuring out how many eggs you should boil, so you can mix up a three-day supply of fluffy egg salad, is a different kind of problem, but it also has a trial-and-error solution. Believe it or not, it was this trial-and-error process that enabled Apollo astronauts to land their LEM on the moon.
three 'wise' men, bearing gifts followed a star[which some say 'moved' in the night sky in a noticeably unusual fashion] was there any disagreement among these three about what had been observed? three's are pretty important, as you know are there psychological implications buried in this belief in the 'power of 3?'
I was in ANTHROPOLOGY, and freely admit shortcomings relating to psychology cocaine use & Red Book symbolism did fall within my purview study & research into astrology, sorcery & freemasonry have me leaning towards early roots involving healers
this said, I'm quoting the 20th century's most prominent spiritual master:
Black Magic has always one definite characteristic. It is the tendency to use people for some, even the best of aims, without their knowledge and understanding, either by producing in them faith and infatuation or by acting upon them through fear.
this scrap of text was saved, because I was anticipating your e-mail response, so prepared myself I choose to 'act'/think about YOU, instead of wonder why I'm doing it I did take a senior-level course with a new textbook:"Culture & Personality" what did a gal, with an astrologer's webpage, study in preparation? reading stories gently molds the 'story of SELF' that determines our ability to ACT any 'story' requiring these 'edits' simply cannot be accepted as FACT[two rhyming stanzas... should I go for THREE?]my story is so long, that the attention span required does not yet exist language is the real key to a greater understanding in most every FIELD useful language always ends with a tryst negotiating a willingness in the other to YIELD[4 stanzas] this 'sentiment' is purely Darwinian the truth is, since civilization was birthed by, and gave birth to an alphabetic written form of the spoken language there are far too many individuals, fully integrated into society, that can choose to be motivated by artificial drives that do not contribute to successful reproduction like writing stories about it blame it on the moon
Think that would be handy for calculating sidereal time, vs solar time?
you mock me; how tall is your obelisk?
I'm not mocking you brother, I was just having a chuckle. We're victims of our own mechanisms. The calculator made us weaker and less knowing. This is also happening with computers and smart phones. We aren't pushing our minds to be all they can be. I haven't stored anyone's phone number in years. The argument is that you can use your mind for other, more important things ...like watching cat videos on the screen...
yeah,...  those damn cat-videos; I meant your reference to sidereal time, and something I had written about shadows moving about on the floor of my two-man cell
FaceBook, Apple, Netflix & Google are the 4 FANG stocks, which are characterized by their unreasonable P/E-ratios. When I boot-up my device, the first set of keystrokes that I execute, get me disconnected from 'the cloud.' Then, I can click on several options, colorfully displayed, when my FireFox portal screen is displayed. [though this browser is pinned to my task bar, I keep on declining to set it as my default browser;2 more keystrokes] These options are 'ranked' & Google & Amazon are ahead of the Mail.com option that is convenient for me. I have never even visited the Amazon site, but a lot of their junk came already loaded on my new device. There is another one included in my top six, waiting to whisk me away to a MicroSoft APP-store. I wonder what their current P/E-ratio is? There is a YouTube link, but I do visit that Google territory frequently. Apple sold-out to Microsoft, before Microsoft sold-out to Google, and that was before FaceBook & Google sold-out to HSA. In 2011, law enforcement technicians took physical possession of my Notebook device in order to duplicate its drive. Nowadays, such nonsense is no longer necessary. LE's problem now is sorting all those automatically sorted files that keep piling up on their servers. They do not have enough agents to do the necessary sorting & opening of so many suspect files needed to keep up. Instead of a new SpaceForce, Uncle Sam should be preparing for CyberWar, like the Russians & Chinese have. Losing the CyberSpace Race ain't gonna be good, and they have already received several 'Sputnik-embarrassments.' Android OS, in combination with a successful G5-buildout, represents additional frontiers to be protected. During WWII, piles of printed propaganda, were dropped by aircraft overflying urban areas in Axis-territory. The US CyberSpace is being overflown by simiar distributors of toxic materials, and we are powerless to respond. This, as our own propaganda grows increasingly less toxic. Ill-advised trade wars further weaken our position globally, as well as incentivizing new agreements & partnerships. Recent downward pressure on both stock & bond markets simultaneously, is being characterized as a rare occurrence. What happened on those historical occasions? A declining US Dollar would have just such an effect on financial markets. Where assets are denominated in weak currencies, one can expect tandem movements of all asset classes. The global currencies headed in the opposite direction should not be invested in such assets. Large trade imbalances where those debts can be paid off with ever-cheaper Dollars, are also undesirable. So, when India seeks to export significantly less product, what happens to prices in the US? And what becomes of the bluff, that our media has labeled a trade war?
We've been being profiled with steadily increasing depth as data storage became abundant and inexpensive either locally or remotely. A terabyte of retail hard drive storage is about $50, cheaper if you choose to cloud-store your data. My first HDD was 10MB and cost around the same amount. Between AI driven flagging mechanisms, faster and more abundant storage, and our own willingness to share personal information on therm inter-webs, anyone with a smart phone, tablet, or other computing device most likely has a profile. I feel sure that since 1991, there's been enough information gathered about me to provide LE a solid psych profile. I bought my first PC to begin determining the myriad of ways that we're being surveiled. We're screwed, dude.
I'd prefer, at least, the courtesy of a reach-around; wonder if Snowden is still in Moscow?
I think it is laughable, and very French, that yellow vests only clog Parisian boulevards on weekends, as they have to work. Picket lines at the GWCC, and @warehouse where my dear old Dad was a captain, were like that. I remember when all of Poland went out on strike, and "Solidarnosc!" entered the conversation. I spent four long years in a non-union apprenticeship, suggested by an old redneck @BAT. At one point, there was a 'hearing' and I was to be booted from the program. I invited this old bureaucrat to sit in on it, as a concerned observer. Problem solved. Repercussions loomed however. After a series of job interviews 'they' referred me to[where the member-contractor had already agreed not to hire me], I went to IBEW to seek their help. The union organizers sent me to a job site, they were targeting[in order to get at union members working there], where I was quickly hired at journeyman wage. I'd give those 'slugs' a dose of vitriol, as I was going in about 7:45 AM. Then I'd pocket the sign-in sheets, when I got upstairs[40th floor], and secreet them to the organizers. When that job ended, I returned to the Fox stage, a wiser man.
1988 Democratic National Convention in Atlanta at The Omni & GWCC. Just miles & miles of cables running between those two facilities. Seemed rather weak. The bridge/turnaround between The Omni & GWCC. FBI labor racketeering agent Brian Hitt on the scene with with his team of covert cam-ops and the audio squad with their shotgun mics. It's all well documented in the FBI & GBI archives, but you can't find dick about it on the internet. It's as though only one low-rent food workers union was the only union to apply any (laughable) pressure on the DNC in 1988. I will say this, whoever came up with the idea to oil the up-ramp to the bridge/turnaround from Int'l Blvd to the Omni was a fuckin' genius.
there were live feeds from convention hall to CNN secured to the bottom of that bridge; another fuckin' genius made some air-gaps interrupt the video; some kinda stones, huh?
From what I hear, there were several instances of air-gapping the cable runs. ;) Must have been just a series of unfortunate accidents.
probably slipped on that slippery slope, with a sharp cutting-tool inhand; unfortunate indeed
RUNNING for a Congressional Office builds up a momentum; a physical movement towards certain achievements, related to specific ISSUES, that should never be interrupted, by a 2-, 4- or 6-year rest period. Learning how to draft enduring legislation, need not involve years slaving away in some accredited law school. YOU can acquire the necessary skills in a fairly brief span of study-time. You must begin, by reading as many 'representative samples' as you can obtain. You could limit the documents to be thoroughly parsed, to the kinds dealing specifically with the ISSUE you have chosen to focus your efforts on. Your problem, initially, will be expanding your vocabulary enough to be clearly understood, once you enter the writing phase that will follow. Certain traditional 'forms' should be employed during this second phase. Phase three begins, when you furnish copies of your document to qualified confidants, for their opinions regarding certain changes that should be made, forecasting prospects for successful passage of such legislation or suggestions about how courts might reinterpret aspects of any resulting LAW's. For this, you need e-mail addresses for serving Congressmen, judges currently on the appropriate bench and affected business entities that can refer your inquiry to a battery of litigators. Replies to your inquiries will almost certainly indicate certain adjustments to your output that would be advisable. Phase four involves giving credit for the introduction of your BILL, to some ranking member of Congress, that has publicly attached himself to your ISSUE, in order to get himself elected. Previously unaddressed ISSUEs are somewhat problematical in this regard, but can be advanced by celebrities, clergymen and struggling local politicians that are 1)not camera shy, & 2)looking for a powerful issue to which they might attach themselves. More e-mail addresses will most likely be required. My ISSUE was pension administration, and it was very unpopular. I did considerable research, to be sure that I had my facts straight. I collected a plethora of e-mail addresses. I wrote a speech, and practiced before a mirror while timing myself, until I could, basically, read forcefully, everything that I had written, in less than 15 minutes. The facts I was pointing out, never made opinions change very much, but did garner me a lot of attention that had not existed before. I became "Chicken Little," delivered my speech years before my time and eventually, was proved right, when the sky indeed fell. About 700 participants, in my defined benefit pan, were adversely affected.
An ACT OF CONGRESS is not always the creation of a LAW. Often, these 'acts' invite some Administrative Agency to enact new LAW's, or otherwise ENFORCE certain specified REGULATIONS. Such LEGISLATION, must be carefully & unambiguously worded. Most of our 20th century Congressmen, though many of them were indeed trained litigators, were either unable to write the legislation they 'introduced,' or indisposed in some way to do so. Sometimes large staffs of competent individuals get the job of creating a BILL, while often obliged to adhere to instructions given them, to keep in mind, always, that whatever is introduced, cannot be awfully objectionable to the majority political party, in either end of the domed Capitol building. Another source for these craftily-worded proposals is the legal staff, maintained by some powerful business or political entity, whose well-paid lobbyist will deliver the carefully prepared 'suggestion,' at a steak dinner, over an expensive bottle of wine. In the 21st century, 'diversity' among the freshmen/women arriving in Congress every two years, often means that even more of the BILL's that we hear about will have been outsourced. In fact, the ability to read/comprehend proposed legislation, is also in rapid decline, and so the advice from adequately trained staff members grows in its influence, and its importance to the constituency. When you complain that some desirable change in your current situation would require an Act of Congress, you have unconsciously ceded your own ability to be effective, to myriad third parties with agendas that are often going to prove quite toxic. STOP WHINING! First, remove the most glaring ambiguities from that internal expression of your most fervent desires. Get help if that is what you need. Then, ACT...  like Congress. Or maybe that should read, "like Congress should be capable of doing, willing to do & adequately prepared to do."
my sign-in/homepage @mail.com was the fist thing that I saw this AM, after a full boot-up[& ditching that cloud] went into that little gear-box yesterday, and while I was changing a few things, I asked a few questions & paid those Firefox folks a visit too there's even some research on MS & that sell-out to Google[fukkin Chrome-enablers] oops!  there's an APP Explorer update notification[@taskbar]; WTF did that shit come from[I don't do APP!] there's some flamin' MS news thingy keeps me apprised whenever there are 'significant developments' RE:the Mueller investigations not too annoying, and that's how I found out about the 'big' earthquake the other day[4.7 in TN/GA] have you been reading about Jesse & Fred? I also wrote/posted something about the reveered Booksie Guy[founder/moderator] this prompted the evil Dr. Acula to kick me out of his publishing 'house' of 1000 horrors[had to move 4 'books' to QWERTY QUORUM] house-cleaning a sure sign that 1)I'm hitting a nerve, & 2)there's NAZI's @Booksie.com that deserve a little more attention trying to be subtle, & really do try to suppress MY trolling tendencies I'm up pretty early this AM, & lookin' forward to a SPAM-sammy for breakfast egg salad came out great, & there's still 8 eggs in the fridge 4more eggs are relatively cheap, so gettin' out my portable kitchen worth all the trouble & upset my theater-sound in disarray[but still available in a pinch] Miss Universe was a Filipina; I thought NEPAL had the best eye candy[in the top 20]; Miss Ecuador[eliminated earlier still] was HOT! Eagles squeaked past Rams last night; lot of spoilers in the mix this season[go Chiefs] Mariota's on Saturday[?]; some screwy holiday scheduling BS I wonder how my Thunder will fare, when B-ball takes over the only sports event awareness I had while in Vegas, was brother-in-law's phone call during Masters taunting PV about Tiger in AZ, it was Churchhill Downs here, the natives get restless[& loud] during March Madness and NBA playoffs I'm the lone holdout for the fukkin World Series that's all I have on sports
There's so much movie and TV work going on that the wonder girl is frazzled and looked about shot-out. Tuck sez they work 12 - 14 hour days 5 or 6 days a week. She programs lighting systems for the industry. Naturally we didn't just talk "banjo". Mostly she just explained all the different stuff she has going on.
TUCK needs WYSIWYG; design the lighting from home
Whaaaaaaaaaat? Gay musicians...un-fucking-heard of!!! Those shoes are just screaming "what a 'mo."
in high school, I wore the world's first pair of bright orange saddle oxfords; what was that screaming?
You wore 'em, you tell me. ;)
my Grandfather was a painter[both of houses & portraits], and on one of his visits when I was a child, he had returned from a job with a bit of dark brown in a can; I'm in the backyard with Joe, watching him organize all the shit piled in the trunk of his old beater; he sees that there is enough of the viscous remnant, and begins stirring with a broad pig-bristle brush; then, with a brushfull of shiny brown possibility, he throws his foot up onto his rear bumper, and applies a generous coating to his paint-speckled brogans[sock & all]; I guess it made an impression; Mods & Rockers were changing fashions and orange saddle oxfords seemed apropos to getting with it; they were my most comfortable pair[I had five pairs of saddle oxfords; a different look for each day in the school-week], and were badly scuffed from wear; I FIXED THEM! I was already queer-bait, so flamboyant footwear only added the faintest shout to already broadcast "come hither's"
if Mexico were to fund & build a wall on their northern border, they could design & control any gates thought necessary Canada could come to this same brilliant conclusion, but have a much longer border to their south USofA would quickly become a 'backwater' & learn some diplomacy Abe[not Lincoln] has decided to add a state-of-the-art aircraft carrier to their somewhat modest self-defense force's naval arsenal I can't wait to see it sailing proudly upon the China Sea those Russians, allowed to continue their occupation of Japanese territory in the 1965 treaty, better look out Abe could pull a 'Thatcher' on their ass[still claiming self-defense] Modi will not let this important development go unobserved Aussies could use any help coming from both these Asian-Pacific naval assets all that ocean water makes a poor border-wall Philippines & Indonesia could be taking sides soon, and they represent major populations that produce surplus foods on DEC 21, Antarctica will be at the peak of their summer thaw, and we should start seeing some scary video from down that way South America is fast becoming a bigger wild card than Africa Panama will need two[very short] border-walls; they could get whatever they need from Home Depot Online I'm fixing to adjourn long enough to grate some boiled eggs & craft myself a sandwich I had Special K for breakfast[at 1:08 PM]
not so long ago, Japan had the most avid/affluent collectors of vintage guitars like the market for fresh tuna, they kinda became spoilers[unless you are a seller]
Japan was, at one time, made the best guitars you could buy outside of the US. Nowadays, with computer assisted design, and CNC milling machines almost any putz with a few thousand dollars to spare can be in the business of making precision, high quality guitars. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4bbUaqwTlk
Japan also distills the world's highest quality Scotch. whassup w/dat?
So, you pair that CNC mill  (with which one can also mill metal parts) with a computer, and a 3D printer, and I'm sure that ones ability to fabricate virtually anything becomes reality. Whoa. Hold on there, buckaroo. What about Mr. Retailer and his market-locked semi-monopoly selling copyrighted and patented products? DIGITAL RIGHTS MANAGEMENT...
NAMM was a wonderland, where competing instrument manufacturers got a very expensive opportunity for exposure. Some very well-attended guest artist performances at GWCC come to mind. Who plays your instrument is really the price-driver, and the actually-played instrument catapulted into the price-paid stratosphere! That auction you mentioned, could become a venue for one of these recognizable artists from the Athens music-scene. Have him or her[maybe them] play all your inventory, right before the bidding begins. Let the artist auction off the companion signatures, for the cause. Am I getting through here?
if Siskel & Ebert were arguing about some new film that was just out, their heated discussion might drift onto PRODUCTION VALUES(only EBERT would be likely to do that); if he argued for a THUMBS UP, based on excellent production value(making a film is like telling a story; some tell the same story better), he will say nthat the film's producers used amazing cinematography(spent lots more $$$) to express several themes/ideas, where most would not have(or would not have to), & that added P.V. made the film infinitely better, more entertaining & the extra-mile techniques became like another character in the story. YOUR TASK:when you have decided upon a particular 'song' to work-up for improving the ESSENCE ACT, do a YouTube search for videos & collect all that you may find(especially the less-professional and/or amateurish looking/sounding ones that somehow got posted); next, watch them all(probably several times each) & select the best few from the batch; discuss w/band-members WHY you thought those were the best ones; you may tend toward the better sound quality or the best of the musicians; you might find that you wanted to choose one of them, not for the music, but something they did that was captured in the video, or there were close-ups of fingering that you appreciated or just that the film featured separate performers at the right change-ups. My 1st TV-production had two cameras & a switcher; it was a softball game, sponsored by 96-ROCK & Alex Cooley, played by DJ's vs. band-members from KANSAS, when they came into town for a Concert(Cooley Promoted); it drew a large & raucous crowd of KANSAS-fans to Piedmont Park one sunny afternoon, helped promote both the Concert & the radio station(while having video-production equipment/personnel at the game helped boost all the excitement); one camera was fixed on a tri-pod behind the plate(to capture pitches & swings) & the other was just past 1st-base, and could pan to follow a hit and catch the play in-field or out-(w/close-up on 1st-base action); there was just one microphone, so I put it on a tall stand w/heavy, steady base, and placed where I got an adequate feed for both Alex's play-by-play calls on the P.A., and good coverage of the crowd-reactions(and even some overheard conversations in the bleachers); it took 3 of us, cameraman on 1st to do the panning if there was a hit/play, another guy on the switcher at my truck to change from behind-the-plate coverage, to the panning view of the field, whenever he heard that sound an aluminum bat makes clobbering a softball; then, of course, I was there directing(or perhaps repositioning the mike or just speaking a fake-part as faux-fan), and could have made the spectacle even greater, if I had carried a large megaphone around & shouted-out camera/switcher cues. Things went smoothly with 3-crew, and even though cameras weren't sync-ed & each switch rolled the image, the tape we produced gave the feeling of being there with crowd/Alex/KANSAS; my BetaMax was so amazing, that when I loaned my only copy to Alex, he never returned it(but word got around about my Channel 41 Productions, because this big promoter showed it to everyone that stopped by his office om business)!!! The Production Values of the song-videos you collect and watch depends on so many different things, that it would behoove ESSENCE to thoroughly exploit as many of them as practical in their future bookings; your SHOW can be good enough to disguise any musical- or talent-shortcomings, while growing a better- or well-organized local fan-base, that by bringing more folks to your bookings will equal higher- and better-paying gigs as you mature as a group, or change-out various artists as needed.
https://www.facebook.com/oldstagehands/photos/a.1375675492750537/1375675312750555/?type=3&theater
Following a performer around with what amounts to a big flashlight sounds easy, and probably looks easy too, if you watch while it's being done. Well, it ain't; and your lack of ability is most immediately apparent to the other operators who can make those first outings tough on you if they wish. That's when those relationships first begin to pay back dividends. The lighting director will be less aware of your foibles because the angle from which he is observing is a bad one; the audience even less able to see anything of what is going on. Your buddies can cover for your short-comings, and try to talk you through the rough spots. You'd better be able to take a ration of good-natured ribbing about it too! Watching an experienced operator while the show is going on is one of the best ways to get a heads-up on many of the subtleties that can take years to acquire. If you show the proper respect to his situation, you can ask questions and get helpful answers during the show. This exchange is doubly instructive because you observe the mysterious operations while in direct correspondence to actions occurring on the stage. Sometimes the cuing is coming through a biscuit(a small portable speaker) and you see that much more clearly how his responses co-ordinate with what is taking place. The respect part is something that you must learn about too, in order to understand; when to ask your questions so that they are not bothersome, distracting or downright disastrous; being aware that the presence of the headset sometimes means others are hearing everything or aware of your presence in the booth. Few apprentice operators ever spend that much time doing this; many experienced operators are glad they don't!
Phillip DeNise: ever change the hot carbons? 3rd paragraph from PREFACE to "Work For It, Baby!":Writers are frequently counseled to write about what they know. This writer knows spotlights better than anything else he was exposed to while in his secret world. What I know about them, if taken alone, would provide the content for an exhaustive technical manual. If we begin to consider how I learned what I know, a process then becomes the subject of the manual. Describing that process is most naturally facilitated by making constant reference to actual experiences that I had while learning to operate this specific piece of equipment.
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weaselbeaselpants · 8 years ago
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Music Video/Storyboard Script: A Gorey Demise
This isn’t even the final draft and, like In the Backseat, you’ll see a much cleaner version down the road. For now bare witness to the bones of what became the highlight of my mini drama portfolio, ft. characters from The Nightmare Before Christmas and a song by Creature Feature.
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“A Gorey Demise” Music Video Screenplay
Song by Creature Feature. Characters owned by Touchstone and Walt Disney Entertainment. Creation credited to Tim Burton and Deane Taylor.
---
-CUT TO: Title on a black background (echoing the opening credits of “The Cabinet of Dr. Cagliari”). The title fades-
 (INT.) HALLOWEEN TOWN HALL
There is a feast going on and many of the Halloween Town citizens are there in attendance.
The exact citizens include: Two Witch Sisters, one tall and grey and the other small with green skin; A Wolfman in a flannel shirt; A unicycling Clown with sharp teeth and pink polka dots; A skinny Cyclops cat-creature with an overbite; four Vampire Brothers; a Demon with fury arms, scaly skin, detachable jaw and tentacles on it’s head; a Melting Man; a red Devil; and an Undersea woman -
  MISC. VOICES
“Aha! Hello Everyone. I thought this was a party! Who made the Jellybean spiders?” CONT~
 -CUT TO: They are eating a collection of grotesque things such as dead animals, garbage, candy, and what looks like slime, and they are drinking red wine (or possibly blood). The Chandelier on the ceiling matches the same motif as the candles on the table: that of spiders whose legs are the candleholders. The hall the dinner party is being held in is decorated with portraits on one side while the other shows a view to a stormy night outside. The wall behind the foot of the table has a long portrait of a skeleton man in the drabs of a plague doctor (it’s Jack Skellington) with a ghost dog at his feet.
The citizens of Halloween Town continue their ramble with each other before the Mayor of Halloween town, a man shaped like a spinning top with a long hat and two-toned eyes, walks into center frame and sits at the empty seat at the end of the table (a seat made to perfectly encompass his huge hat) -
 MAYOR
All right, everybody sit down, quiet down, and listen up. I brought you all here to recite the annual obituaries.
 -
CUT TO: Right side of the table, where Clown, the Witches, Wolfman, Cyclops, and the Melting Man are sitting
 CUT TO: The Left side of the table where sits the Vampire Brothers, the Undersea Gal, the Devil, and the Demon. Like every year we'll start with A and end with Z.
CUT BACK TO FOOT OF TABLE: The Mayor pulls out a large book and opens it up. He looks to the side-
MAYOR
Alright, is the band ready?
(pan out) - A band of monsters holding up their instruments. There is a Sax Player with a shrunken head, a Cello player with bulging eyes and a Human Head inside his cello, and a tall Accordion Player with broad shoulders and tiny eyes-
 ACCORDIAN PLAYER
Ready!
MAYOR
Alright, hit it Boyles! (cut)
HEAD INSIDE THE CELLO (Boyles)
One, and a two-
 -The band begins to play-
 -The monster guests move too and throw with the music. (Overhead cut) The Mayor opens a scroll where the obituaries are illustrated-
 (The pictures are in a different, less detailed, “sweeter” style than the rest of the film, akin to Edward Gorey or The Peanuts. For Verses 1 and 2, each character singing holds up the animated illustration in their hands for the other guests to see, though in Verse 2 the other citizens the pictures are not animated, rather the monsters hold them up and mimic the child’s death)
  Verse 1-
MAYOR
A is for Amber who drowned in a pool.
 Pic: A smiling girl jumps in a pool, but doesn’t resurface.
CLOWN
B is for Billy who was eaten by ghouls.
 Pic: A boy is chased offscreen by a hoard of zombies.
TALL WITCH
C is for Curt with disease in the brain.
 Pic: A smiling boy’s head starts to swell and then blows up.
SHORT WITCH
D is for Daniel derailed on a train.
 Pic: A smiling child walks across some train tracks and is flattened by a cute little engine with a face.
WOLFMAN
E is for Eric who's buried alive.
 Pic: A gravestone with ‘Eric’ sticks out of the ground. The pic turns into a wide shot where we see Eric is screaming underground.
CYCLOPS
F is for Frank who was stabbed through the eye.
 Pic: A boy runs with scissors before tripping and impaling himself in the eye.
MELTING MAN
G is for Greg who’s sealed in a tomb.
 Pic: A mummy chases a boy into a tomb.
MAYOR
H is for Heather whose face was exhumed.
 Pic: A little girl looks into a bottle of embalming fluid. It desintegrates her face.
(cut) The monsters are banging their folks and spoons on the table and swishing back cups of whine as they sing.
ALL
One by one we bite the dust, Kick the bucket and begin to rust, Give up the ghost when your number's up, We all fall down! ALL
(cut) Right side
 Ashes to ashes, bones to paste, You whither away in your resting place.
(cut) Left side
 Eternity in a wooden case We all fall down!
 The Accordion Player swings to the Cello player and they play in unison, before the Accordion player swings the other way to the Sax Player and does the same as before for the small musical interlude.
Verse 2-
TALL VAMP
I is for Isaac who lost his front brakes.
 Pic: A little boy’s bike swerves out of control and throws him offscreen.
SMALL VAMP
J is for John who was bitten by snakes.
 Pic: A boy is handling a snake, which jumps up and bites his head.
LARGE VAMP
K is for Kimmy was shot in the head.
 Pic: A little girl and her brother are playing with a rifle. The brother accidently fires and shoots the girls head off.
SHORT VAMP
L is for Larry who bled and bled.
 Pic: A boy cries with all his limbs torn off and bleeding, ala Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
SHORT VAMP
M's for Marie who was burned to a crisp.
 Pic: A little girl starts a match before catching ablaze.
LARGE BRO
N is for Nick who was pummeled by fists.
 Pic: A little boy in boxing clothes gear up to fight before being crushed underneath a giant hand.
SMALL BRO
O is for Olive who lived life too fast.
 Pic: A little girl holds onto a rocket, which goes so fast that her skin, hair, and eyes fall out.
TALL BRO
P is for Pat who swallowed some glass!
 Pic: A boy eats a glass swan and swallows, before making a disgruntled face.
 -CUT TO: A rat crawls from the portrait behind the Mayor and leaps onto the chandelier over the table- ALL (SIDE ONE)
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
 The citizens bang their drinks on the table. The chandelier shakes and the rat falls from the chandelier and into the soup dish of the Cyclops.
ALL (SIDE TWO)
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
 The laughing continues and the Cyclops takes a sip of his soup (with the rat inside his spoon). A moment after putting the rat in his mouth, the Cyclops realizes that he has eaten something and spits out the rat, which scrambles for breath on the floor.
MAYOR
Alrighty lads, altogether now! ALL
One by one we bite the dust, Kick the bucket and begin to rust, Give up the ghost when your number's up, We all fall down! ALL
Ashes to ashes, bones to paste, You whither away in your resting place, Eternity in a wooden case, We all fall down!
Verse 3-
 DEMON Q is for Quentin who took the wrong trail
 Pic: A boy goes down a pathway in the woods. His bones come spitting out the other trail.
 TALL WITCH R is for Riana who rotted in jail
 Pic: A little girl looks frightened as the bars close before her.
 DEVIL S is for Steve who was shot by a bow
 Pic: A boy is eating an apple when he is suddenly shot through the head by an arrow.
 UNDERSEA GAL T is for Tory who froze in the snow
 Pic: A little girl shivering in a barren, snowy landscape
 CLOWN U is for Uric who was trampled by hooves
 Pic: A boy dressed as a jockey lets open a stable and is crushed by enormous horses.
 WOLFMAN V is for Vanessa who fell off a roof
 Pic: A girl with a cape on jumps off a roof as if she was Superman only to realize her mistake as she’s falling. 
 CYCLOPS W is for Will who was hit by a car
 Pic: A boy doesn’t look both ways before crossing the street and is flattened.
 VAMPIRES X is for Xavier who sunk in the tar
 Pic: A little boy screams for help as he sinks amongst a bunch of dinosaur bones.
 SHORT WITCH Y is Yessy who fell from a plane.
 Pic: A little girl screams as she falls hundreds of feet through the air.
MAYOR
And Z is for Zack who simply went

The Mayor points to the accordion player, who finishes the final two notes.
ALL
Insane!
(they all cackle uncontrollably)
- CUT TO BLACK
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