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voidendron · 4 years ago

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Shenanigans™️ from last night's ops:

we ran SM DF and DP cause two of our buddies needed them for Oricon story. we started out with only five (one tank, three DPS, and I got to try solo healing them both for the first time - another friend joined us on DPS right before Grob'thock)

In true Catz fashion, SM = meme run...

First add pull in DF resulted in the tank getting yeeted off the bridge. He started laughing, rezzed.... then IMMEDIATELY died again to one of the underwalker's AOEs

Nefra was pretty uneventful, but no one paid attention to the add so it came for me every time it spawned. I was running around like a dumbass to stay out of the AOE while also trying to stay in range of the tank

Grob was...well. Grob. One of the sorcs got fire the first time and she, while giggling, drops the fire right under me. But guess who got fire the next time? 😈 so we just kept trying to sabotage each other while laughing like dummies. At one point the DPS jugg ignored fire and promptly died cause they didnt move out of it and I couldn't heal them thru it

Draxus was chaos as he usually is, but surprisingly uneventful considering who we are alssksksk same went for Corruptor Zero - tho, there was an add that wouldn't get off me, so one of the sorcs goes "COME ON ME, YA BASTARD" *long pause* DPS jugg repeats it in ops chat and she groans, cause she realized what she said only after saying it, and had hoped no else caught it

Then Brontes.... ah, Brontes. so, a little note: we brought in a new raider we found in a flashpoint and have been teaching him the ropes and stuff. in true Catz fashion, when it comes to SM we just kinda explain as we go while dragging him thru the fights. Brontes actually went well, buuuut...... during the reaches, the sorc says to the new guy: "gotta run between them for the next mechanic"

new guy: "oh okay"

everyone else: "NO, DONT LISTEN TO HER" *laughter, while she starts cackling*

...surprisingly, there were no deaths on Brontes

All in all, DF went surpsingly well considering who we are alalsks

Then came DP...

Bestia was going well, but then the new guy started taking MASSIVE damage all of a sudden

Me: "NERDZ. NERDZ GET OUTTA THE YELLOW. NERDZ. DUDE YOU'RE IN AN AOE I CAN'T HEAL YOU"

"...huh?"

....and he promptly died. *sorc, heals, & tank laughter, including the one who died* I rez him, he backs out of the yellow...then promptly stands in another puddle. I started laughing and he stepped out after that and didn't die again during Bestia. Both juggs (the tank and a DPS) ended up dying after Besta hops down, new guy is actually the one to rez the tank since I'm still on CD for it, and it pretty much becomes "out-damage Bestia before she kills us first" the PT is running around like a madman thru all this cause one of the adds decided he's its new best friend and it doesn't give a shit about the actual tank (fortunately the PT has a hybrid experimental build he came up with himself, so he's got defensive stats to be not as squishy as pyrotechs usually are)

Tyrans.... heh, Tyrans is always fun with this group 😂 most of us, when we get simplification, our goal is to sabotage someone - usually heals or a turret class - by dropping it on their tile. Let's just say the arena looked like a total mess by the end, and Tyrans, the tank, and melee were on a secluded island tile with no way to get off of it. One of the sorcs actually pulled the PT off the tile because he had no way to get out of fire. SOMEHOW no deaths to Tyrans, tho I was struggling to keep people up by the end cause they were running out of places to go to get out of fire/Tyrans cleaves

Calphy was...interesting. First portal goes fine, but between healing I'm trying to arrange ops frames for the second portal phase (was gonna put the two sorcs + tank on left since self-heals, while taking the DPS jug and PT right with me)

...and then the DPS jugg rearranges frames into a single column just to be a shit 😂 so come phase 2, everyone's confused about which portal to go into. I run right with the PT-

everyone else goes left

cue my "oh fuck" as I realize there's only two of us on the right, and one of us doesn't do shit for damage

let's just say I'm really fuckin glad the PT did good damage + had that experimental build, or our side would've been fucked. I'm actually surprised we beat Calphy there

after that, cue me and the jugg fighting over ops frames. I rearranged them back how they should be, then they just threw everyone into random spots-

aaand because of how I have my 8m healing UI set up, the way they arranged it made it so I could no longer see one of the group members in the frames. AND since I keep friendly nameplates turned off, the person who go dragged off-screen was kinda fucked for the Drouks since I couldn't see their health nor click on them with everyone stacked so close

and ah- turned out it was the one fucking with frames who I couldn't see aksl;djlk so they died within seconds of pulling the Drouks and I couldn't help but start laughing because KARMA

I rearrange frames correctly again, they fuck em up again, so I revoke their LT privileges and one of our sorcs just busts out laughing "oh, that's COLD" (I gave em back LT partway thru Raptus, and they didn't mess with frames again after that akls;djlk)

ANYWAY

it was so much fun and my stomach hurt from laughing so much 😂

it's a wonder how we get through HMs when we wipe in SMs from being dumbasses (legit, we've wiped on SM and HM Bonethrasher so many times cause we've been laughing so hard), but goddamn is running with this group fun aklsd;jkld

#swtor #blitz plays #blitz rambles #oliver vs ops #if you want a legit serious run.... we're def not the group for that 😂#we call them meme runs for a reason aksldjl #i WISH i'd been streaming last night cause omg #i swear it seems like the really fun runs are always the ones i forget to set up obs for

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leoswritingcorner · 5 years ago

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an oracle in olympus pt. 3

i’m sorry for how long this took, but i’m back at it again! shout out to @headcanonsfromanelfblossom for being my beta and all of you for inspiring me! <3 part 3 of ?

Olympus, the home of the gods. Mighty and grand, and in all its splendor!

...basically looked like something out of a vintage Aspen postcard. There was no plumes of clouds swirling over golden roads. Chariots and pegasus weren’t racing across the skyline. There wasn’t even a single Corinthian pillar in sight.

Lucky shoves her hands into the pockets of the 90’s print neon windbreaker Lucy lent to wear over her party dress from the night before. The wind is chilly, even for late Summer. She looks around, taking in the sight of the mountain ranges in the distance, and the closer rolling hills lined with pine trees. In the center of it all, a simple looking town laid there.

So far off from what she would draw of Olympus as a kid.

“Luce, just take Avernus Lake Boulevard, it’s the easiest way.” Jamie says, fishing her phone out of a glittery clutch bag.

Lucy shakes her head. “Alkyonian Lake Drive is what I used before, so I’ll use it again.” she argues. She swings the door of her Volkswagen open and looks to Lucky. “Ready?” She calls out. “We gotta hurry, traffic is a killer around the breakfast rush.”

Lucky looks away from the town with a pout. “Olympus is just like Aspen?” She asks a bit disheartened. “That’s another thing, why aren’t y’all in Greece?” She questions, climbing into the car.

In the front seat, Jamie buckles herself in. “We go back, like, now and then. But ever since mortals lost sight and belief in us,”she trails off and shrugs. “We just roam around, but Ran- er, Zeus took a real liking to Colorado so, we’ve been here for, like, the last hundred centuries.” She explains easily.

“Oh.” Lucky says nodding. “Looks like y’all like keepin’ it modern, too?”

Lucy starts up the car, pulling out of the driveway. “Well yeah. You’d expect us to just be in the Bronze Age forever?” She asks back. “We like a bit of modernism, too.”

A sheepish look crosses Lucky’s face. “I guess that makes sense.” She says quietly. Lucy chuckles, catching Lucky’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

“But sometimes Zeus feels nostalgic and we’ll have a day or two when this place looks a bit more how it used to.” She adds.

It would have been a quiet ride into town if it hadn’t been for a Gary Newman song blaring on the speakers.

Lucy taps her fingers in beat to the song on the steering wheel. Jamie’s own fingers tap rapidly the screen of her phone. Lucky leans up slightly, catching a glance of the name of who she was texting ‘A❤️💖 💝💘💗💞💕💓😍’

Smiling slightly Lucky slumps back down. ‘A’, she had a slight idea who that might have been. Absently, her hand lifts up and her fingers brush the lines of the splotchy birthmark on her chest.

What if she really was some reincarnated oracle from Ancient Greece?

‘No.’ Lucky pushes away the thought. ‘No, I am not Tyche. I’m Lucky.’

For the briefest and scariest second, a sense of uncertainty fills her.

‘Aren’t I?’

“So.” Lucky speaks up to stop her thinking from going any further. “Y-Y’all have mentioned some guy named Clyde. Who is he?”

The song comes to an end and finally silence fills the car.

Lucy draws out a long “Uuuhhh…”

Jamie pats her friend’s shoulder a few times as if to reset her. “He was, like, a good friend of Tyche.”

“He was a really good friend of hers.” Lucy adds, her voice dipping a little at ‘really’.

Before Lucky could respond, Jamie claps her hands. “Oh, let’s stop at Tweek’s!” She suggests. “We need to, like, make change and I could go for, like, some pastries.”

Lucy nods, flipping on the turn signal. “Good idea.” She agrees. They pull into a small plaza that sits nestled in the shadow of a mountain. Lucky leans forward, peering from between Lucy and Jamie. She hadn’t even noticed they passed by the town and were nearing a mountain range, a more shadowy looking one of all of them. Lucky starts to feel a heaviness grow in the pit of her stomach as they cruise by various shops in the rundown plaza.

‘Grief Counseling by Penthos’ read one sign. Next to it, another sign read ‘Geras’ Old Age Vintage Shop’. Lucy pulls up to the end of the shops, passing into a drive through. ‘Tweek Bros Coffee’ was painted across the window, the word ‘Curae’s’ had clearly been scraped off.

Rolling down the window, Lucy leans out as a static voice yelps from the drive thru.

“Gah! H-How can I help you?”

Lucy lifts her sunglasses. “Hey, Tweek. Give me and Jams our usual, please.” She orders. Turning to Lucky, she asks. “Want anything?”

“Uh.” Lucky blinks. “N-No. I think I’m okay. Don’t have much of an appetite right now.”

Lucy shrugs, calling back out. “And that’ll be it.”

“Y-Your total is f-five dollars. Aw, jeez!” The voice exclaims. Lucy zooms around the corner and plucks the ten dollar bill Jamie hands to her. At the window, a young man with wild blonde hair stands twitching and trembling.

“How’s it going, Tweek?” Lucy asks politely, taking the cups of beverage and bag. Tweek shakes, looking over his shoulder.

“Awful!” He cries. His head twitches and his eyes shut tight. “Pete!” He points to one of the shops in the plaza. “He’s going to kill me and take my shop, I just know it!” The girl follow his finger to look to the store front simply marked ‘Phobos’ where a sullen young man with dark hair stood, staring right at them.

Unblinking. Unmoving.

All three grimace and look away.

“I’ll try and talk to him.” Lucy offers. “We’re gonna see Cherry, Tweekie. Can I get coins as my change?”

“Rrgh.” Tweek replies, taking the money. He fumbles with the register before dropping three silver coins into Lucy’s hands. “Here!”

“Thanks, Tweek.” Lucy says sweetly. She gives a wiggly-fingered wave and drives off. Lucky finally finds her voice.

“That...that was Curae? Anxiety?” She asks, her voice pitching slightly. Lucy sips at her drink.

“Mmhm. Not a lot of mortals know that.” Lucy nods, making a check shape in the air with her finger. “Another point for the reincarnated Oracle!”

Lucky scoffs. “I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree in Classical Studies, majoring in Greek Mythology. I’m also working on earning my PhD in the field as well. And!” She lifts her pointer finger. “I was just hired as a docent at the Denver Art Museum heading the Greek Mythos exhibit so…” She makes an exaggerated air check mark. “Point for Lucky Siddalee Day, girl who worked her ass off in college!”

Lucy and Jamie peer at each other.

‘Nerd’ Lucy mouths.

Lucky folds her arms over her chest, looking out the window as the mountain comes closer as the Volkswagen drives on. “But, um, those names back in that plaza.” She says hesitantly, pointing over her shoulder “Those...guys are the ones you’d kinda meet before…” Lucky trails off, unsure if she wants to even think of finishing the sentence she was about to speak.

The looming shadow of the mountain covers the car. Lucky looks out the window and feels her heart leap into her throat.

An immaculate sign made of white stone greets them. It’s black letters carved meticulously, into it, reading;

Welcome to Underworld Co.

A cool chill seems to settle over the Volkswagen as they drove further down into the cavern of the mountain. Any traces of the sun vanishes completely, and only the light of torches lit with flames guide them along. Rows and rows of cars occupy the parking spaces; cars ranging from decade to decade. Lucky swears she sees a Rolls-Royce 10 hp as they drive by.

Lucy turns the steering wheel left, then right, then left again. “Dick!” She exclaims when a wall comes up. Lucky blinks and rubs her eyes. Was that wall there before? Lucy shares a few choice swear words in modern English and ancient Greek as she throws the car into reverse.

Again, she turns left, then right...right one more time. Jamie shakes her head as another wall seems to magically appear. Lucky looks around. “What is all this?” She asks, ignoring Lucy’s agitated grumbling.

Jamie looks over her shoulder to her. “Parking garage. If Lucy, like, took, Avernus Lake Boulevard like I told her, we would’ve had valet parking.”

“Jamie.” Lucy rolls her eyes. “The last time I used valet, the harpies practically tore my car to shreds. And- aha!” Lucy veers the car to a sharp left into an empty spot. “See? Barely took us even twenty minutes.”

The three climb out of the Volkswagen and Lucky looks around the parking garage. It was a maze. Literally. The ramps shifted and turned, while walls appeared and vanished. A car zooms by them and screeches as the road turns and sends it crashing into a dead end. Lucy winces. “Hope they got insurance.” She comments lightly. The three avoid more cars speeding by and make their way to an elevator.

A wispy ghostly figure of a man is there to welcome them as the elevator doors slide open. Lucky yelps, covering her mouth. He turns his head and Lucky winces when she sees the gruesome way he met his end, with a long slash stretches across his throat. Lucky is sure her chest is pulsing visibly with each pound of her heart. Jamie easily catches her from tumbling off the curb.

“Going down?” The ghost asks politely. Lucy nods, as they step in. She passes a silver coin to the ghost who smiles. “Ah, going way down. Elevator Styx to Main Lobby!” It calls out, cranking a lever. The doors seal shut behind them, and Jamie grips onto the railings, bracing herself. Lucy does the same and looks to Lucky.

“Better hold on tight.” She warns.

Lucky isn’t sure what is more terrifying, the elevator plunging downward or the sound of the muzak cover of Lady by Styx blaring over the speakers. Either way, her screams echo the entire way down.

Lucky can barely appreciate the Corinthian columns she thought she would have seen earlier. She clings tightly to Lucy’s arm as they walk down the hallways of white marble walls accented with ebony and gold designs.

It was all so elegant, and yet, so cold.

“Oh, poor Lucky.” Jamie says, gently trying to push down the curls of Lucky’s hair that stuck up on end from the elevator ride. “It’s, like, taken me over, like, a thousand years to get used to that drop. Are you going to be alright?” She asks

Lucky nods. “J-Just waitin’ for my soul to catch up with my body.” She replies weakly.

A high pitched nasally voice speaks up as they step into the main lobby. “Welcome to the Underworld Co, what d’ya want?”

Lucky jumps, and looks up to catch sight of a harsh looking woman sitting at the front desk. Her hair seemed to slither, but not with snakes. Her skin was a pale grey and her hallowed eyes stare the three visitors down, as if they interrupted something very important.

“I said.” Comes her nasally voice again. “What. Do. You. Want.” She bites out, pointing her nail file at them with each word. “All My Demigods is on and you’re wasting my time!”

“Hey, Erinyes, um, One?” Lucy greets. The woman’s eyes seem to darken more. “Two.” Lucy corrects herself quickly. The woman relaxes a bit and goes back to filing her claws. “We need to see Cherry.”

Erinyes Two snorts. “Yeah? You and half of Olympus and the Mortal World. You’ll need tah schedule a meeting with the boss like everyone else.”

Lucy frowns slightly. “Listen, can you just tell her that Dionysus and Aphrodite are here to see her?”

At that Erinyes Two gasps over dramatically and puts a hand to her chest. “Oh, we have name-dropping gawds here! I’ll get right on that!” She nods. Lucy narrows her eyes as Erinyes Two smirks. “Sit down, wino-head. I’ll see if the boss can squeeze you in.”

Lucy takes one, two, and three breaths as Jamie guides her away from the front desk and to the waiting area. The chairs- actually, chaises were comfortable at least. Lucky sits down between Lucy and Jamie. Lucy sat nearly seething.

“I can’t stand dealing with Erinyes. Any of them.” She says, snatching up a magazine titled “Better Hearth and Home”. Across the room a wide screen flat TV showed the scene of a gorgon woman, slapping a Minotaur across the face.

Erinyes Two cackles. “He had that comin’” She says mainly to herself.

Lucky sits back. Lucy wasn’t kidding when she said that Olympus was keeping up with modern times, maybe even a bit more advanced. A wisp of another ghost floats down the hallway, a woman who appeared to be from another time and age, followed moments later by a man who looked like he stepped out of a 1950’s movie set. At the desk Erinyes Two sighs dreamily as he passes.

Lucky’s jaw drops slightly and she turns to Jamie. “Was that…?” She whispers in astonishment.

Jamie glances up from her phone and nods. “Yeah, that’s him.” She replies, there’s almost a hint of a sigh in her voice as well. “Who knew a ghost of a mortal would be such a star here in Olympus too?”

Another hour passes and Lucky begins to feel restless. There’s only so much daytime television that one can watch, in the Mortal world and Olympus. She feels like she’s read through all the magazines on the table; Demeter’s Fine Gardening, Chronos, Olympus Weekly. But Lucy and Jamie seem barely fazed by the dragging of time. That must’ve been one of the perks of being a goddess.

A loud banging of a door opening wide shakes the room. Erinyes Two jumps and stands at attention. “Good Afternoon, sir.” She greets politely. Any and all traces of the rudeness that she had greeted them with early disappeared entirely.

Lucky leans forward to see a man coming in. As wide as he was tall. He wore a black suit, designed with tiny floral prints of blood red roses, and twisting green stems. If one looked quick enough, hints of skulls could be caught between the prints of flowers. Was...was this Hades?

“Ooooh Koooore.” Lucy sing-songs teasingly, standing up.

At that, the man blisters and whips his head around towards them. There’s an angry color on his cheeks as his eyes narrow.

Oh. Oh no. Oh no freaking way.

Lucky giggles in disbelief, and covers her mouth to hide the sound. It’s too late, Persephone heard her.

“Who the hell are you?” He demands, storming over. Lucky stumbles, dropping her purse as she goes to stand up. Persephone is before her, practically towering above Lucky. There’s a light scent of flowers followed quickly by almost metallic smell. Lucky holds her breath and peers up at him.

Persephone pauses, his eyes widening slightly before his steely glare returns. “I said who the hell are you? Speak up, mortal!” He snaps- literally snapping his fingers with each word.

“Oh come off it, Kore.” Lucy cuts in, gently tugging Lucky away from his imposing figure. “Where’s Cherry?”

Persephone grunts in frustration. “Stop callin’ me that, you dumb drunk. Did you come here just to bother me?”

“Dear.” Comes a new voice. Soft and light. It’s spoken in a tone almost above a whisper, but it carries so well across the marble walls. At the voice, Persephone’s anger melts away, replaced with a charming smile and light in his eyes.

“Darling.” He calls back. “Your friends came to visit, seems they brought us another stray.” He shoots them a secret look, just before a woman comes around the corner.

Lucky stares in awe of the god of the underworld. Hades.

The very picture of elegance in a black dress of lace and satin, designed to match her lover’s; twisting patterns of vines and skulls. The red curls of her hair twisted carefully into a pilat crown.

Her gaze is slow, careful, and observant as she looks over Lucky. In that moment, Lucky isn’t sure if she should bow or curtsy. Or faint. That’s what she really felt like doing.

“Cherry.” Lucy greets, smiling. She’s standing by Lucky now, hanging an arm over her shoulders. “This is our new friend. We need your help.”

Persephone makes an agitated grunt. “You know we don’t spare mortal souls.”

“Eric.” Cherry says. So that was his name. Lucky thinks it suits him a bit more than Persephone. However, Persephone did have it’s darker meaning. Cherry gives her husband a gentle smile. “You are right. We do not spare souls so easily, however, she is not dead.” Her eyes look to Lucky again.

Lucky smiles weakly. “Well, guess ya wouldn’t be the ruler of the underworld if ya didn’t know that.” She jokes, hoping to ease the growing tension. Eric seems to bristle again.

Cherry doesn’t laugh, but her smile doesn’t falter either. “What is your name?” She asks.

“It’s…” Lucky begins. Her tongue nearly betrays her when she feels the letter T forming on her lips. “Lucky.” She says quickly. “It’s Lucky. That’s my name.”

At that, Cherry lifts her eyes to Lucy and Jamie. Lucky doesn’t see the way the two goddesses nod.

Jamie speaks up. “Cherry, do you think, like there may be a chance, like, she could be…”

Cherry turns her stunned gaze back to Lucky. “Tyche.” She says in a whisper.

Eric’s eyes grow wide. His body seems to freeze on the spot. He barely hears the way Cherry asks the three visitors to follow her to the Archive Room. He watches the short brunette follow after them. It could not be her. He regains feeling in his body and finally his brain begins to think again, saying the first thought that came to him.

“Oh, shit.”

The Archive Room is not unlike any other office space. Save for the floor to ceiling filing cabinets, long ladders and winged monsters soaring back and forth.

Lucky sits across from Cherry, watching as the goddess takes a box from one of the monsters, nodding her thanks. “I apologize for the mess.” Cherry says. “We are beginning to go...digital.” She finishes with a sigh.

Eric is not too far, drinking a large cup of mead. “It’s going to really help us be more organized and keep track of all these souls and more.” He points out. “It was my idea.” He adds grinning.

Lucy snorts. “Humble as always.”

Eric shows her a view of one of his fingers in a quick motion.

“These are the T files. Tyche’s name should be here.” Cherry’s fingers barely seem like they even graze the tips of the file tops. Lucky glances to Jamie and Lucy nervously. They smile back to her, and Jamie takes her hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“Don’t worry.” Jamie assures her.

Lucky watches as Cherry wordlessly scans the file from top to bottom. Her eyes moving in a swift but steady motion. Eric downs his mead and swallows loudly, watching the scene closely.

Cherry inhales sharply, her movements coming to a halt. “I do not...understand.” Cherry says. “Tyche is not listed here.”

“What?” Lucy, Lucky and Jamie all blurt out at once.

Eric is quick, he comes to Cherry’s side and takes the file box in his arms. “We’re in the process of going digital remember?” He points out. “Maybe her file was just taken out of order.”

Lucy doesn’t seem to accept the answer. “She has a mark. The one mortals carry if their souls return.”

Cherry opens her mouth, but Eric is the one to reply. “That rarely ever happens. Even then it takes a mortal nearly thousands of centuries of penance.” He explains quickly. “Your friend is...just some coincidence.”

“Yeah, I think we came here to talk with Cherry.” Lucy growls. “You know, the actual ruler here?”

Eric’s face goes red. “What makes you so sure about her anyway?!”

Lucky shoves away from the table, and stands. All eyes turn to her as she snatches the windbreaker up, “If no one has answers. I want to go home. Oracle or not.” She says. With a swift turn, she storms out of the room.

Jamie and Lucy begin to follow before Cherry lifts her hand to stop them. Wordlessly, she follows after Lucky.

Lucky leans against the wall, her head tilted back. Her eyes trace the patterns of gold traced through the marble. She counts to ten and closes her eyes. Still a strong unease racks her body.

What and why the hell was this happening to her?

This week began so, well, normally. Now all of a sudden…

“Dear, will you be alright?”

Lucky gasps and opens her eyes. Cherry is standing beside her. There’s a concerned look on her face. “I am sorry about everything that happened back there.” She continues. “I can only imagine how overwhelmed you may be feeling.”

Lucky grunts. “I am beyond overwhelmed.” She mumbles, crossing her arms. “Nothin’ is makin’ sense anymore. In the span of nearly 24 hours, I feel like I’ve been thrown into a bad dream I can’t wake up from. Suddenly, I can’t stop...doubting who I am.”

Cherry listens carefully. “You are having doubts. Do you feel less like yourself?”

“Ever since I heard Tyche.” Lucky sighs. “Tyche...Tyche. Lucky…” She pushes a hand to her head. “I can’t be some ancient oracle. It’s just ain’t possible.”

“Yet, you are here. The Underworld, Olympus…” Cherry says, motioning around. “Lucy says you are clear of drunkenness.”

Lucky laughs dryly. “My stars how I wish I was.” She rubs her arms and looks around the hallway before looking back to Cherry. “Do ya think I’m...I could be her?”

“It is possible. Yet, I would not understand how. Eric may be...severe. But he is correct. The way souls can return is quite rare.” Cherry explains. “However, something does present itself as odd.”

Right, the whole issue of Tyche’s name being missing. Maybe her file was replaced or lost in the transition. Lucky hums and closes her eyes.

“There is a way.” Cherry speaks up. “If you truly wish to find out if you are Tyche or not.”

Lucky looks to her again. “How?” She asks.

“Drink from the River Mnemosyne.” Cherry replies.

Lucky breathes in. Of course the River Mnemosyne could help. If she was Tyche, her memories would come back. She’d…

She’d no longer be Lucky.

“No.” Lucky says quickly. “No, no. I can’t” She shakes her head.

Cherry nods in understanding. “I respect that. Yet, you should know...word spreads fast in Olympus. Oracle or not. Your presence here is known.”

Lucky pales as Cherry finishes her warning. She seems every bit of the goddess of the underworld as her eyes seem to darken and her voice sends trembles through Lucky’s very bones “Some gods and goddesses will be eager to know the truth, my dear. Take care.”

Lucky breathes in the scent of her apartment. Cinnamon and worn books.

It’s so comforting.

Jamie thinks so as she lounges across the couch. “I’ve never stayed a whole night in the mortal realm in, like, years!” She says happily. “Or been to a sleepover!”

Lucky rolls her eyes and presses the popcorn button on the microwave. “Let’s not make it a habit.” She says. Lucy opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of root beer.

“I can make this wine, you know.” She offers. Lucky goes green slightly at the memory of the night before. Lucy shakes her head. “I guess not. Hey…”

“Hm?” Lucky prompts, fishing in a cabinet for a bowl.

“I’m sorry.” Lucy apologizes. “I got a bit extra with Eric and the news. Also, kidnapping you to Olympus.” She adds sheepishly. Lucky turns to Lucy and smiles slightly.

“Thank you.” She says, coming up to Lucy. “Promise you’ll ask me next time? And...keep helping me find out the truth? Slowly.”

Lucy grins tugging Lucky into a tight hug. “Promise.” She says. Lucky laughs, pulling away as the popcorn finished. They all pile onto the couch with Jamie and start the movie. Back to the Future.

After a while. Lucy lifts her hand. A long slender blunt is balanced between her fingers. “So...we’re against getting drunk. But, what about high?”

Jamie and Lucky share a look.

“Oh, what the hell.” Lucky sighs with a shrug. “I may or may not be some reincarnated oracle.”

Lucy lights it up, smiling. “That’s the spirit.”

Lucky sits on the floor and at the TV, the credits rolling. Behind her on the couch, Lucy and Jamie lay deep in their sleep. Their high being slept away slowly. They miss the way Lucky’s green eyes cast a slight glow in the darkness.

“Alas.” Lucky speaks up, her voice distant, reaching across time. “How mistrust will lead to misfortune. A great shadow hovers over Olympus. Ruin and dust shall be the gods kingdom.”

The TV goes dark and Lucky slumps over.

#lucky day #lucy montgomery #jamie jameson #cherry hayes #an oracle in olympus

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years ago

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Ali & Carly

Ali: I have THE most shockingly incredible news Carly: ? Ali: Someone you know Ali: someone very geographically close to you Ali: is leading a double-life Carly: I know my ma's fucking the bloke who works in the kebab place Ali: Hmm Ali: fair play Ali: a man who knows his way around a giant sword of meat is undoubtedly a plus Ali: but this is not about kebabs or adultery Ali: yet Carly: thats what i said after i told her what pegging is Carly: but k is it about 💊s? Ali: bless Ali: from the mouth of a babe Ali: nope, but think one of your other great loves Carly: aw its about you Carly: tell me tell me Ali: okay, okay Ali: but only 'cos you're the sweetest Ali: and I am 😻 Ali: cat lady has an antique shop! Ali: idk how I've not found it 'til now but it's so cool and you've got to come Carly: o thats so cute! Carly: all the 🐈s just on the shelves like 👀 Carly: she must have so many breakages tho 💔😿 Carly: u there now? Ali: RIGHT?! Ali: I nearly gave her a heart attack when I realised it was her Ali: like seeing a 🐅 in its natural habitat Ali: [imagine a hilarious selfie with a slightly bewildered old lady 'cos she's #buzzin] Ali: won't blame her beloved moggies but it is a bit of a mess Ali: party still tho, so come thru Carly: 😍😍😍 Carly: wtf @ her working there still shes like 400 Carly: not looking it from that angle tho 😘 Carly: where am i goin? Ali: she's the big boss lady Ali: 🤑🤑🤑 Ali: 'cept not, obvs Ali: it's a complete hidden 💎 Ali: hidden the operative, so just get to the main drag of the high street and I'll meet you 💚 Carly: yea?! aw love that for her & us Carly: scavenger hunts r so fun bye ma👋 Carly: ill bring mr darcy he's been trying to get in the hot tub all morning 😼 didnt have the 💜 to tell him hes not meant to like water Ali: exactly Ali: knew you'd get it Ali: won't blindfold you or nothing but maybe later Ali: awh, double date moment Ali: he's just tryna live up to his name is all Carly: 🔮 finds u baby or u find it Carly: ha ill make that maybe into a yea thats my 🔮 Carly: 💙🐅 & 💜🐈 aw cute Carly: thats why he's 😾 but 😽 yea? thats the 1 right? Ali: got it all in one, baby Ali: so smart Carly: my outfit choice gotta b some kind of 🔮 too 🌟 Carly: fate found me overalls like get ready bitch Carly: 🐇 Ali: ready to work and werk Ali: that's my girl Carly: ha Carly: can't have u looking like that & me Carly: idk but not 👼 level Ali: psh Ali: impossible Carly: ur a 🍑 Carly: but we're still honeymooning Ali: life's a honeymoon with you and me, doll Ali: neverending summer, yeah Carly: u kno Carly: any hot customers that come through the door better only have 👀 for the other 🐈 Ali: 🐈 gets 'em in the door, they gotta stay, and more importantly pay, for the bargains Ali: that's my business plan anyway Ali: not sure how she's rolling, only that she ain't rocking Carly: & no more breakages thats mine ha Carly: dont have the shakes today its k but will be weak at the knees when i see u 💙 sorry colleen Carly: make sure u catch me yea 👼 Ali: 'course Ali: you're far too pure to ever be a 😈 Ali: the universe and I will never let that happen Carly: ur too nice Ali: nah Ali: just what you deserve Ali: well, I try Carly: ur the real 💎 Carly: & im happy we found each other Ali: me too Ali: never gonna lose each other again Ali: trust Carly: the universe & i will never let that happen Ali: 💚 Ali: forever means forever Ali: do you want anything, I'm just killing time Carly: im goin nowhere baby unless its w you 💫 Carly: idk water maybe Carly: not v rock & roll but i reckon maybe youll like me anyway Ali: adventures only club 🌌 Ali: I know I'll love you dope Ali: water it is Ali: strictly straight-laced plain ole h2o, no hint of party Carly: 💙forever i kno Carly: ha wot r u planning to spike it w? 👀 u Ali: WISH I'd found some really retro pharmaceuticals in all those old bottles Ali: wonder how coke ages like Ali: fancy Carly: if we find any i'll be your lab 🐇 Carly: but not today im 😵 Carly: 💔😢 Ali: 😢 now I'm thinking about animal testing Ali: no cages either Ali: we got work to do Ali: but you can take it easy babe, sweet-talk like only you can Carly: omg no 😭 we have to free every 1 🐇🐀🐁 no cages ever! 😠 Ali: that's a job for tomorrow Ali: we'll need posterpaint and balaclavas Carly: cute Carly: i kno lads who've got some we can borrow Carly: & 💪 if we need it too Carly: or 🏎 for the getaway ha Ali: they've got their uses Ali: that's for sure Ali: can we convince 'em to dress up like 🦍s for the cause Ali: obvs 😘 Carly: i can Carly: u could but id b 💔😢 like Ali: but what about my 💔? 😏 Carly: ur protected by the 🔮💫 Ali: yeah Ali: and I protect you Carly: yea u do Carly: we dont need the lads Carly: ur a🐅 Ali: 😊 Ali: what's going on at the zoo tonight tho Ali: any parties we need to be a part of Carly: johnnos home thats always good til the garda wanna welcome him back too ha Ali: party poopers Ali: we'll be gone before then Carly: gone �� or gone 🚀💊 Ali: little from column a little from column b Ali: don't wanna share you for that long Ali: and I'm defs not sharing our spoils, either Carly: k Carly: i kno u said this place was hard to find but maybe im outside? Carly: idk it 👀s right Ali: omg 🗺📌 Ali: I'm still in the tescos getting us some lunch Ali: called Calico Jacks Ali: which is SO perfect Carly: !!! Carly: i knew this was the place 🐈👑🏰 Ali: the universe WANTED us both to find it today Carly: omg its so cute in here Carly: idc that im sneezing Carly: i love it Ali: right? Ali: she has some amazing stuff Ali: it just needs sorting out so people can 👀 it all for what it could be, not necessarily what it is rn Ali: once we've bagsied the best bits for ourselves, naturally Carly: i'll tell her its the comedown so she wont feel bad Carly: omg i just found the cutest 🐻😍😍 hes joining us for tea Ali: totally making this a picnic moment Ali: you've gotta name him/her Carly: yay Carly: kettles on baby 💙 r u nearly here? Carly: mayb ill have thought of a name by then Carly: cant rush if he has to go by it forever Ali: faster than you can sneeze boo Ali: exactly, names are very important Ali: so 🍀 he gets to pick his own Carly: aw lucky is a good name Ali: perfect Ali: I wonder if we can find him a suitable tea time outfit Carly: 😊😊

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skateofministry · 4 years ago

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Three Terrible Ways To Fix And/Or Ruin The Next Oscars Ceremony

The Rundown is a weekly column that highlights a few of the greatest, weirdest, and many noteworthy occasions of the week in home entertainment. The variety of products might differ, as might the subject. It will not constantly make a lots of sense. Some products may not even have to do with home entertainment, to be sincere, or from today. The essential thing is that it’s Friday, and we are here to have some enjoyable.

PRODUCT PRIMARY — Listen to me

While my very first impulse in all of this is to cut the Oscars some slack since they were attempting some brand-new things throughout an unusual time for everyone and since they opened with about 90 seconds of Regina King strutting into the event like we were seeing the opening of Ocean’s 14, the reality of the matter is that it was not excellent. One of the issues was that there was no place to go however down after that ideal opening. That’s an excellent issue to have, however. And bless them for taking it out of a ballroom and making it seem like a cool lounge where relatively mismatched stars hang out in cubicles since that’s how you get things like Daniel Kaluuya sitting throughout from Glenn Close and motivating her to do Da Butt in a ball dress on nationwide tv. But it still wound up dragging and being type of boring, much like it does every year. Which is an embarassment, since there’s no factor this can’t be enjoyable.

Luckily, I have some concepts. Some of them are, I believe, great, like “go back to having a host if only to have someone keeping things on track” and “keep the show to two hours flat by cutting out at least half of the bits and segments.” But that’s no enjoyable. And I do not in fact appreciate any of this, if I’m being sincere, nor am I paid all right — or, like, at all — by the manufacturers of the program to begin caring. So, let’s refrain from doing that. Let’s do something else rather. Let’s created some extremely bad and not practical concepts that would include anarchy and whimsy to the procedures in such a way that is as ridiculous as it is unreasonable. Let’s be, to put as great a point on this as we can, a lot of unhelpful goofballs.

Here are 3 awful concepts to repair the Oscars.

— Everyone concerns the Oscars and remains in their automobiles. I’m discussing a whole drive-in motion picture scenario. Just a big empty lot filled with stars using official clothing inside automobiles they own or have actually leased for the night. When somebody wins, they put their cars and truck in drive and swing around through a drive-thru window to get their prize. In my dream situation, the window is staffed by teenagers who do not wish to exist, if just for interactions at the speaker where Oscar winners need to loudly duplicate their name into the speaking 2 or 3 times prior to they pull around to the window. (“MARTIN… SCORSESE. BEST… DIRECTOR.”)

The other twist here: There’s a traffic control at the end of the drive-thru where the winners need to wait prior to making a left rely on return to their parking areas, and they need to provide the speech inside the cars and truck while waiting on the light to alter. The speech ends the immediate it does. (“And I couldn’t have done this without m-… oh crap, it’s green, gotta run.”) If they retreat from the window and capture the green right now, no speech, or they can yell whatever they can out the window as they shriek through the crossway. I desire Helen Mirren to win and put down rubber as she peels out, holding the prize out the window with her left hand. This would be outstanding tv.

— We keep whatever precisely the exact same with one little twist: After somebody wins and takes the prize back to their seat, they need to safeguard it from the other candidates, who have the right, if they so select, to attempt and take the prize through subterfuge or misdirection throughout of the event. Whoever has it at the end gets to take it house. It would be so excellent. There might be a roving reporter in the crowd upgrading the audience in your home on the scenario. “Breaking news: During the commercial break, Daniel Day-Lewis dressed up as a cocktail server — fully in character, really quite impressive — and swiped the Best Actor trophy from Timothee Chalamet, who has now donned a fake mustache and was last seen in the rafters strapping himself into some sort of spelunking gear.” And so on.

Are there issues with this concept? Sure. Would it type of defeat the function of ballot and even providing a piece de resistance in the very first location if, state, Emma Stone can switch out your genuine prize with a gold-plated one filled with chocolate while you go to the restroom? Perhaps. But, most notably, would I enjoy it? Folks, I truly, really would.

— Everyone needs to take a zip line to the phase to gather their prize when they win. Nothing else modifications. We simply include a zip line. It would make the Lifetime Achievement award a fascinating minute every year. I wager Jane Fonda would like it, however.

I will stop here just since excessive idiocy in any one location threatens, however please understand I might go on. My initial draft of this area had a note I do not keep in mind composing that simply stated “Blimps?” If I ever determine where I was headed with that one, I will be in touch. It might be a while, however. I simply envisioned a circumstance in the drive-thru concept where Harrison Ford and Angela Bassett enter a fender-bender entering the event and continue arguing loudly through the monologue, simply hardly audible in the background. I’m going to be cranking away on that one in my brain for a couple days, a minimum of.

PRODUCT SECOND — Betty is so freaking great, please watch Betty

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This is the trailer for the 2nd season of Betty. I bring it to your attention for lots of factors however, mainly, I bring it to your attention since the very first season of Betty was amazing. It was so great. I did not anticipate it to be my jam in such a significant method either. It is a program about teenage ladies who reside in New York and skateboard, whereas I am a male in his 30s who resides in Pennsylvania and does not skateboard. I had practically absolutely no context entering. That’s the important things about great tv, however. It informs stories about human beings and the method they share human experiences even if they have extremely little in typical on the surface area. And, if we’re being reasonable, I believe many people who viewed The Sopranos were not or had actually not formerly been members of the New Jersey mob. I understand I was not. As far as any of you understand.

Betty likewise included among my preferred characters in current memory: Kirt, a queer teenager skater who enjoyed to scuffle and smoke pot and who at one point embraced a rat as a family pet. Kirt guidelines.

HBO

So, yes, please dive in and enjoy the very first season of Betty if you have not. It’s amusing and moving and cool and it can perhaps broaden your horizons a bit, too, presuming you are not a female skateboard teenager who resides in New York. It’s likewise just 6 episodes, 3 hours amount to. You might enjoy the entire season in the time it takes you to enjoy one Marvel motion picture on cable television this weekend. You ought to do that. Betty is so great.

And while I’m on the topic of tv trailers and things that are great, please watch this trailer for the upcoming tv series Physical starring Rose Byrne.

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And please read this description of the program.

Sheila Rubin (Rose Byrne) is a silently tormented homemaker in ’80s San Diego, who behind closed door fights severe individual satanic forces and a vicious inner guide. But things alter when she finds aerobics, triggering a journey towards empowerment and success.

And please keep in mind how great Rose Byrne remained in Spy, an excellent motion picture. Watch that once again, too. Watch Betty and Spy. This was an actually great chat we simply had.

PRODUCT NUMBER 3 — Did you understand that Elisabeth Shue was practically beheaded by a helicopter in 1988?

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I could sit here and describe to you precisely how and why The Sun concerned compose a story about a 35-year-old anecdote from the set of the motion picture Cocktail starring Tom Cruise and Elisabeth Shue, however, like, why? Why would I do that? You can click the link and check out all the backstory if you desire by yourself time. The Rundown is not a location you ought to be going to for context. The Rundown is a location you opt for stories about Tom Cruise taking on Elisabeth Shue to avoid her from getting beheaded by a helicopter. That is, in a nutshell, precisely what we are doing here on a Friday.

We go now to the Cocktail set, where Cruise and Shue have actually simply left the previously mentioned helicopter.

The starlet was uninformed of the procedure when leaving a helicopter, as the rotor blades still intensely turn even after the pilot has actually shut off the engine.

And so she begins running in the basic instructions of the back of the chopper, towards the blades in the back, which are spinning so quickly regarding render them undetectable.

But Tom – who even in 1987 was a totally trained chopper and jet pilot – prevented the threat by rugby tackling her to the flooring, preventing specific immediate death for Elisabeth.

Things I like about this sentence:

The reality that The Sun felt the requirement to keep in mind that Tom was a totally trained helicopter and aircraft pilot

The reality that The Sun utilized “rugby tackled” since American football implies absolutely nothing to them, which is great since “rugby tackled” makes this all objectively funnier

The reality that The Sun utilized “certain instant death” at the end since that seems like the title of a bad Jean Claude Van Damme motion picture from the exact same year this story occurs, one I would have enjoyed 25 times on like Spike TELEVISION in the early- to mid-2000s.

Moving on.

The post was seen by author Mike Timm, who sent it onto Mission Impossible director Christopher McQuarrie – who is presently shooting the seventh installation with Tom.

Mike informed Bill: “I sent this post to Christopher McQuarrie, who’s working with Tom on MI. He loved the story and, of course, Tom confirmed it.”

Take a 2nd and image this discussion. Just a 2nd. Because I simply envisioned Christopher McQuarrie, director of the Mission: Impossible motion pictures, asking Tom Cruise if he when conserved Elisabeth Shue from getting beheaded by a helicopter, and after that I envisioned Tom Cruise stating “Yes” extremely earnestly and without a drop of paradox, and pal, that made me laugh.

PRODUCT NUMBER 4 — I have actually altered my mind and believe truth programs are great now

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We relocation from the set of the 1988 motion picture Cocktail to contemporary China, where, thanks to author Sarah Jeong, turmoil is afoot. Things started basic enough. A male from Russia registered for a skill contest where the winners form a brand-new kid band. But then, oh my. Then things got truly rather amusing.

Mr Vladislav Ivanov, a 27-year-old from Vladivostok, was tossed out of Produce Camp 2021 last Saturday (April 24). Viewers had actually disregarded his pleas to leave and backed him all the method to the last.

Mr Ivanov, who speaks proficient Mandarin, initially signed up with the program as a Chinese instructor.

But he stated he was welcomed to sign on as a candidate after the directors saw his great appearances.

It’s tough to select a preferred part of this blockquote. On one hand, I do delight in the important things where this man is obviously so attractive that manufacturers asked him to appear on the program, which is a relatable thing that has actually occurred to everyone. On the other hand, I require to understand more about this “pleas to leave” scenario.

He appeared to regret his choice practically right away, however might not leave without breaching his agreement.

His absence of interest played out in half-hearted singing, rapping and dancing along with the other, more excited participants.

Well, think what: I like it. Not always the part about him being contractually bound to a scenario he disliked. That I like rather less. But the other part? The part about him half-heartedly sleepwalking through efficiencies in the hopes of getting sent out house in a manner in which wouldn’t lead to him getting dragged into court for breaking stated agreement? That part is the great things.

We continue.

Performing under the phase name Lelush, he advised the general public to vote him out, stating he did not wish to be amongst the 11 winners of the program, who are contractually required to form a young boy band.

“Don’t love me, you’ll get no results,” he stated on one episode.

But audiences required to his ugly personality and kept him in the running for almost 3 months.

“Don’t love me, you’ll get no results.” It’s stunning. And naturally it backfired. Every kid band requires a bad kid, one who flouts the guidelines and sneers and uses a leather coat. This is Boy Band 101. And it doesn’t get more bad kid than “don’t love me, you’ll get no results.” He would have had much better luck if he went the other method and pretended to desire it more than anything else worldwide. No one likes a try-hard.

��Don’t let him quit,” one audience discussed a video of a dejected-looking Mr Ivanov carrying out a Russian rap.

“Sisters, vote for him! Let him 996!” another fan commented, utilizing the Chinese slang for the gruelling work schedule that affects lots of young workers, specifically in digital start-ups.

The not likely star made it to the last episode of the program on Saturday, where he stopped working to make adequate votes to sign up with the kid band.

“Sisters, vote for him.” “Don’t let him quit.” It’s ideal. And it had a pleased ending since handled to get away prior to getting roped into visiting the world with a band he never ever wished to remain in. I hope he cuts a solo album now and ends up being the greatest star in China. I hope he begins an around the world pattern of pop stars pretending to not care at all, simply slackly frowning through choreography and mumbling lyrics to tunes they imitate they dislike and positioning for photoshoots where they roll their eyes and perhaps don’t even deal with the electronic camera. This would be enjoyable for me.

PRODUCT NUMBER 5 — My preferred paragraph of the week

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Craig Jenkins of Vulture spoke with Ghostface Killah today. Maybe “interviewed” is the incorrect word. What he did was more set Ghostface Killah as much as inform a lot of stories, which is most likely even much better, since it resulted in Ghostface stating all of this about his look as a DJ on the movie When In Rome starring Josh Duhamel and Kristen Bell.

I was terrified to death when I did [2010’s] When in Rome. A great deal of individuals remained in there [Kristen Bell, Josh Duhamel], and I’d never ever truly been around a great deal of individuals attempting to enter a part [the role of a DJ]. I needed to do it over and over and over and over and over and over since I kept screwing up lines. It was a line where they had me state [“Our host and curator Beth Martin is getting engaged?”], and I kept screwing up. At that time, I wasn’t utilized to stating “curator” and things like that. Never truly become aware of it at that time. People was waiting on me since I needed to stop the music, and they simply taking a look at me, and after that I state my line, however I kept messing it up in front of a hundred individuals. It resembled that business where someone’s like, “Yo! Time for a Snickers.” It was among those.

I want I might open this story up and live inside it for a vacation. I’ll bring the GIF at the top of the area — from the video for “Gravel Pit,” which occurs inside a Flinstones-design rock quarry and, at one point, includes a dinosaur consuming a wicked ninja, since the Wu-Tang Clan has never ever when dissatisfied anybody — with me and hang it on the wall. No calls or e-mails. I’m on getaway.

READER MAIL

If you have concerns about tv, motion pictures, food, regional news, weather condition, or whatever you desire, shoot them to me on Twitter or at [email protected] (put “RUNDOWN” in the subject line). I am the very first author to ever address reader mail in a column. Do not search for this tail end.

From Amanda:

This week’s episode of 9-1-1 included a kid’s celebration in which a mama is impaled onto a Pin the Tail on the Donkey board by springs from a trampoline (BTW, bravo for that, 9-1-1.) The program has actually currently offered us a bounce home drifting off a cliff at yet another kids’s celebration.

So, the concern is: What celebration game/piece of celebration devices will the program weaponize next? Lawn darts appear too simple a response, as do clowns. Maybe somebody getting their head stuck undersea throughout an apple bobbing contest? Or a pinata that you believe will trigger an emergency situation when one visitor inadvertently punches another with a bat, however truly the pinata itself is made from repurposed firecrackers and blows up?

What state you, Brian?

The very first thing I require you to understand here is that this holds true. All of that occurred in the cold open of this week’s 9-1-1. The girl was a mommy blog writer and influencer type who was shooting every inch of her bad, unpleasant kid’s celebration to please the sponsors who contributed all the things to it, and, at one point, as the child was bouncing on a weak trampoline, a few of the old rusty springs shot off and flew through the air like objectives into and through her abdominal area and extremities prior to attaching her whole upper body to a Pin the Tail on the Donkey board. It was unbelievable. I’m at the point now where I enjoy this program and 9-1-1 Lonestar in about thirty minutes amount to the next day by fast-forwarding through all the talky parts on a hunt for disaster. It’s most likely not what the manufacturers are wishing for. I feel fine about it. Anyway, appearance.

FOX

Just a fantastic tv program that in some way airs on network tv every Monday night.

To address your concern, Amanda, I seem like a pool needs to be included in some way. Like a pool-party-related emergency situation. Possibly including a diving board. Or perhaps a water park. Yes, let’s choose “a child’s birthday party at a water park.” The challenging thing here is that 9-1-1 is so proficient at this that I don’t understand if I can even produce something wild enough. Again, this program had kids drift away inside an inflatable bounce home. So while part of my brain is believing, like, “a man gets stuck in a water slide but the bored teenage employee at the top isn’t paying attention and keeps sending people down and we end up with a 25-person logjam inside a sweltering plastic tube that has to be disassembled via helicopter, possibly after two or more people have an amusement park food-related attack of violent flatulence,” another part of my brain questions if that’s even enough.

I’m happy to leave this to the specialists.

AND NOW, THE NEWS

To Australia:

Police looking for the “Big Bird Bandits” who supposedly took a “Sesame Street” outfit from an Australian circus have actually jailed and charged 2 males.

I’ll be sincere here: I was not anticipating the turn that sentence took. The thing where the Big Bird Bandits took the outfit was something. But I gasped when I got to “from an Australian circus.” I… I believe I like these men. I type of wish to stop checking out here so I don’t destroy it. But let’s press on in the interest of… I don’t understand, let’s state… journalism?

The “Sesame Street” outfit was disposed back at the circus by an electrical power box, with an apology note in the beak, South Australia Police stated. “We are so sorry!!! We had no idea what we were doing, or what our actions would cause” the note read. “We were just having a rough time and were trying to cheer ourselfs (sic) up. “We had a great time with Mr Bird. He’s a great guy and no harm came to our friend. Sorry to be such a big birden (sic). “Sincerely, the Big Bird Bandits.”

RELEASE THEM

RELEASE MY SUGARY FOOD YOUNG BOYS

RELEASE THE BIG BIRD BANDITS

THEY’RE NOT INJURING ANYBODY

THEY’RE SIMPLY HAVING A GOOD TIME

IT’S BEEN A WEIRD YEAR FOR EVERYBODY

RELEASE THEM

Two males aged 26 and 22 were on Friday charged with theft and being unlawfully on properties, cops stated. The males have actually been approved bail and will appear at Adelaide Magistrates Court on 30 June.

JUDGE: … and now the opening declaration from the defense.

LEGAL REPRESENTATIVE: Thank you, Your Honor. Our opening declaration is this: Come on.

JUDGE: Excuse me.

LEGAL REPRESENTATIVE: Come onnnnnnnnn.

JUDGE: [strokes chin, bangs gavel] I’m swayed by your argument. Case dismissed.

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brett-buckner-the-dirt · 6 years ago

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“Sure, it’s fun to see the excitement when Jellybean first comes around the corner and sees all the gifts that Santa left, but also I’ll be glad to come clean for one simple reason – I want some freakin’ credit.”

Three weeks after the fact might seem like an odd time for a Christmas column, but like most of you, the only way I can really enjoy the holidays is when they’re over … and right before the credit card bills have started rolling in.

The fake tree has been disassembled and shoved back in a box that seems to have shrunk since it was first opened after Thanksgiving. I’ve finally stopped whistling “Here Comes Santa Claus” but have resigned myself to finding loose strands of shimmering tinsel floating around the house until the 4th of July.

And I no longer yell at the TV.

It’s easy to bitch about how overly romanticized Christmas is, but there was really only one commercial that made me long for the Bird Box plague. I’d happily blind myself with a spoon and Super Glue if it meant never having to see that damn GMC Black Friday commercial again.

You know, the “one for you, one for me” commercial where the guy tells his wife about the pre-Christmas gift he got for them both, then leads her out to the drive-way where a brand new pick-up truck and SUV are parked. She immediately runs to the black truck leaving him sheepishly smiling at the red SUV.

I hate this couple. I hate them with a passion usually reserved for dog fighting and those ass-hats who order lunch for the entire office at the McDonald’s drive-thru. Has anyone in the history of the world not named Diddy ever bought two brand new cars as a Christmas gift?

Still … that was pretty much the height of my Christmas vitriol. Well, that and all the “Diamonds are forever” and “He went to Jared” spots, but that’s just because I’m a crusty old cynic who’s destined to die alone.

Merry Christmas!

I guess this year was different because I’m pretty sure it’ll be the last year when Jellybean still professes to believe in both Santa Claus and Dio, our damned Elf on the Shelf.

In truth, I doubt she really believes in either, but is clinging to the magic of childhood for as long as possible. She’s also smart enough to know that once she stops believing in Santa Claus, the number of gifts mysteriously dries up.

I for one will be torn when it happens. Sure, it’s fun to see the excitement when Jellybean first comes around the corner and sees all the gifts that Santa left, but also I’ll be glad to come clean for one simple reason:

I want some freakin’ credit.

Every year, “Santa” delivers all the really good presents, while Jellybean’s Mom and I are stuck with the also-rans. Santa brings the cool mini-Polaroid camera and the framed Grease 2 posters, while I give her a stocking stuffed with Bob’s Burgers-themed socks and Burt’s Bees grapefruit-infused face wipes. When she gets the calls from Grandma asking what she got, Santa’s stuff always gets listed first, while her mom’s just out of range whisper-shouting, “and the bath bombs from me.”

I have finally matured to the point where I really don’t care what I get for Christmas, and I honestly enjoy finding fun things for Jellybean, but I’m sick of Santa getting all the credit.

I’ve gotta sit there smiling as she snaps pictures when I really wanna scream, “Santa didn’t stand in line for 40 minutes in Best Buy, getting coughed on by a guy who was either homeless or a hipster (these days it’s hard to tell), just buy the exact camera in the exact color you wanted. I DID. ME. YOUR FATHER.”

Jellybean at the River Walk, taking scenic shots with her Christmas camera.

Granted, most of the other stuff was painlessly bought and delivered via Amazon Prime, but I pay the bill and it’s the mailman who has to lug that stuff all over God’s creation. Your mother escaped Wal-Mart without murdering a single person after working a 12-hour shift bother people’s baby’s into the world, where’s her plate of cookies and warm milk? (P.S. what the hell IS that? Warm milk is gnarly.)

But no … mad props go to St. Nick, at least for one more year.

One Christmas tradition I can’t wait for Jellybean to outgrow is the Elf on the Shelf. Man, that thing makes me nuts. Jellybean’s got an elf at both my house and her mom’s house. Molly, the one at her mom’s house, does cute things like baking tiny cookies or making show angels out of flour. Dio, our demon elf, is about as much fun as a fingers in a garbage disposal.

If they were TV shows, Mindy would be Little House on the Prairie, Dio would be Jackass.

Dio makes a mess – creatively, granted – but a mess just the same. This, of course, means that I have to make a mess … every night. Dio has covered the entire Christmas tree in wrapping paper, made a climbing wall out of bows, took all of Jellybean’s socks and tied them into a zip line across the living room and created a ski slope out of books and cotton bowls. Oh, and he put all of our Amazon remote controls in a jar of slime.

Wrapping the Christmas tree

Dio as Gene Simmons

Dio wishes everyone a merry KISSmas

Dio makes a Play-Doh buddy

Wrapping the Christmas tree

Dio as Gene Simmons

Dio wishes everyone a merry KISSmas

Dio makes a Play-Doh buddy

Dio works the scanner

The main reason I look forward to Christmas is because that means Dio is going back from whence he came.

But does Jellybean actually still believe in Dio? Does my 10-year-old child really think that a creepy doll with unblinking blue eyes comes to life in the night, sneaking around the house playing tricks on us and watching over her to report back to Santa whether she’s been bad or good?

Jesus, I hope not. That sounds terrifying.

But she wants to believe. She’s still a kid and I love that she believes in childish things. There’s plenty of time to realize that there’s not a lot of magic in the world, so I want her to hold on what little there is for as long as possible. Besides, she always helps me clean up after Dio, which is the only thing that’s kept him from magically landing in the Goodwill bin.

This is also the last year where we’ll be able to afford dueling gifts anyway. The retro camera, which really was the only thing Jellybean really asked for – the child needs nothing and doesn’t really ask for much – was just the tip of the iceberg.

Next year, it’s apt to be a phone and once we start down that road, the gifts are only going to get more expensive. Since we’re not the type of family – fractured as it may be – that’s on the level of car-buying when it comes to gifts, Christmas will soon become “One big gift and lot of necessities.”

Jellybean will get Beats headphones and … a pink loofa sponge.

I feel like we’ve always done pretty good with keeping our gift giving reasonable. It’s easier when your kids are spoiled all year long rather than doing it all in one day.

The Diva, who experienced her first Christmas as a fully formed adult – two kids, a job, a husband, a new home and scattered family all insisting on visits – asked her mother, “How do you do it?” The answer is as simple as it is impossible.

Keep expectations low – for yourself and for those you are providing for.

On the one hand, she succeeded. On the other, she failed …. just like the rest of us. She got caught up in the maelstrom of numbers, stressing over “how many” presents she bought her kids, neither of whom needed much. She spent too much and will have to live with the money worries that haunt everyone this time of year.

But all told, they had a great Christmas with lots of joy and surprises, which will linger as long as those credit card bills, but with a far better impact. And next year, she’ll be that much wiser.

Bam-Bam in his R2-D2 jacket

Getting ready for bed … sorta

Bam-Bam gets an early Christmas present

Watching IT with Jellybean.

Elf: The Musical at The Springer

I remember my first full-fledged family Christmas. I spent a stupid amount of money – money neither I nor the Lovely Mother of My Children had – on a record player and these vintage Disney story albums I found on E-bay. Meanwhile the Lovely Mother of My Children bought me this righteous skull ring with tiny emerald eyes that I’d once desperately wanted to be my wedding band.

I lost that ring a couple of years ago and am still sick about it.

That’s the hard lesson grown-ups learn about Christmas – stuff doesn’t matter.

I already struggle to remember what all I bought for Jellybean, not to mention what all was bought for me. Sure, we have to give something, but the cost of the gift should never outweigh the memory it’ll one day bring … unless it’s Santa who does the bringing.

Step off, Fat Man. Next year, Daddy’s taking credit.

It’s Beginning to Look Like (We Survived) Christmas "Sure, it’s fun to see the excitement when Jellybean first comes around the corner and sees all the gifts that Santa left, but also I’ll be glad to come clean for one simple reason - I want some freakin’ credit."

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badgerslick · 6 years ago

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Badger Slick's Midnight Eruptions - Mechanical Malfunctions

Badger: Haven't seen the boys for a few days. Donk: They're working with 'Dad' on a special project. Badger: What brought this on? Donk: Goot's new thing is throwing out cans & bottles on Dad's lawn as he drives by. Badger: Did he call his mom? Donk: The bovine princess said her son is just going thru a 'growth crisis'. Badger: Just got the call. Let's roll. Lamar: Grandma Frogger is visiting. The old wombat has that electric cart she runs people off the sidewalk with. And she's a terror in malls. Thurber: So sabotage electric cart time. Dad: I rented a cart just like hers so I could experiment. The boys helped me with the R & D, fabrication. Way it works is I have a remote controlled brake on the steering column. If the cart is turned right I can hit the remote so it will stick in the right position. Release & it'll go back to normal steering. Lamar: You ain't seen nothin' yet! This is so much more fun than dead roadkill. Badger: Thank you God! Dad: Fabbed an electric throttle override that attaches between the battery cable to the electric motor. I can remotely control cart speed! Thurber: Dad's been timing me & Lamar on installation speed. She parks the cart behind the house to charge when she walks...you heard right...walks into the house for dinner. Lamar: Being the recon specialist here I found she never spends less than an hour inside. We installed the systems in less than ten minutes last night. Thurber: She's always charging the cart. Wants full power to ram & bully folks out of her way. Donk: That family is something else. Lamar: Bovine gonna take goiter-neck to mall. Badger: Dumb question. How do you know? Lamar: Been spending alotta time over at Thurber's. I see the Frogger residence not as a house, but as a series of predictable moving targets living in a stationary target. The Mall Donk: Bovine unloadin' goiter & the cart. Badger: Thanks for driving us here. Dad: You kidding. I wouldn't miss this for anything! Thurber: Okay...picking up speed, using her toy poodle-bark horn as a people mover. Bovine laughing. What a family. Badger: Get ready with the remote Lamar. She'll slowing down, starting to turn right. Hit both remotes. Lamar: She just rammed the lingerie table at Victoria's Secrets. Looking around, dazed. Putting the cart in reverse, getting the hell out. Confused. Here comes the Bovine. Donk: Almost to food court. Lamar: Full speed ahead. Just took out two chairs. Bam! Just hit taco counter. Backing up. Turning left. Remote on steering. Took out a table, two lady shoppers! Bovine got foot run over by a tire. Bovine: Grandma, stop the damn cart! Goider: Kin't! Somethin' wrong wit th' power! Bovine: We gotta git now, 'afore mall cops show. Goider: Git ona cart. Make a run fer th' exit! Badger: They're almost to the exit, going around the fountain. Lamar: No they're not. Full power, straight ahead! Bovine: Bailin' out! Glider: Aaaaaooooo iiieeee Whump. Splash! Splasher & Daughter Apprehended at Mall Fountain Cart Rampage Ends Peacefully Whut?............Badger

#laugh #comedy #fun #funny

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type2diabetestreatments-blog · 8 years ago

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Ask D'Mine: Weigh What You Eat, and Insulin Analogy Troubles

New Post has been published on https://type2diabetestreatment.net/diabetes-mellitus/ask-dmine-weigh-what-you-eat-and-insulin-analogy-troubles/

Ask D'Mine: Weigh What You Eat, and Insulin Analogy Troubles

Happy Saturday! It's time for another edition of our weekly diabetes advice column, Ask D'Mine, with veteran type 1 and diabetes educator Wil Dubois who tackles all sorts of quirky questions from our D-Community.

This week, Wil's looking at options for weighing food, and also the medical profession's various analogies for diabetes. He's touching on everything from carb-focused apps to diabetes linguistics in this one!

Got your own questions? Email us at [email protected]

Darlene, type 1 from Wisconsin, writes: I have been living with diabetes for 41 years, and started on the pump a few years ago. I read labels and use the old, old food-exchanges-measure-and-WAG (Wild Ass Guess) method to calculate carbs for my boluses. In most cases I'm typically right on with my results or guestimations, but recently I purchased a scale just to add another calculation option. A scale is something that I would not utilize every day, but the other day I actually used it to calculate my bolus. I was shocked at the difference in the carbs. What do you find to be the most reliable source of determining the amount of carbs in food?

Wil@Ask D'Mine answers: I'm still waiting for the CarbSniffer App for my iPod Touch. You know, the one where you wave your smart device over your plate and it automatically counts the carbs with an accuracy of 1/10th of a carb, and then subtracts the fiber for you to boot. Unfortunately, there's not an app for that.

(((Sigh)))

Meanwhile, the closest thing is my trusty old Salter Model 1400 nutritional scale. It's my go-to carb counter at home. I bought it at Diabetes Mall years ago. Does anyone remember Diabetes Mall? Does anyone remember malls at all? Here's what I like about the Salter: It's smallish, cordless (it uses a 9 volt battery), measures in either ounces or grams—handy as some food labels use one measure and some food labels use the other—and it has an easy to use "zero" function. That means I can set a bowl on the scale, zero it, then put in cereal or whatever I feel like eating, and get the weight of the food without having to subtract the weight of the container. Then I can use any old calculator to figure out the carbs of my serving (based on the nutrition label). The scale is accurate enough that I can get excellent results even with heavy bowls and light foods.

But it gets even better. The scale also has a telephone-style numerical key pad on the far right hand side. What's up with that, you ask? It has a built-in data base of foods that don't come with nutrition labels. Let's say that I want to eat half a baked potato with my dinner. I can either go to a carb book or data base to find:

Potato, baked, 2 ¼ inch x 4 ¾ inch, with skin = 51 carbs

And then wonder what to do about the fact that my frickin' potato is 2 ¾ inches by 3 ¼ inches instead of the standard size, before dividing by two and worrying about how well I cut it in half....

Or, I can just slap the actual half potato on my scale, enter code number 908 (for potato — you look up foods in the guide they provide), press the carb button and get what I need: 19.44 carbs. Ta-da! Oh, and pressing the fiber button tells me to subtract 1.83 from the total, for the impact carbs. If I were a registered dietitian, I could also press the calorie button to learn that my intended potato serving has 83.9 calories. Additionally, it has buttons that I never use to calculate salt, protein, fat, and cholesterol. The only bummer is that it can only display one thing at a time, but maybe they've fixed that in the newer models.

It is not, however, portable enough to take with me when I'm eating out. For that, I also used to just use the SWAG method (Scientific Wild Assed Guess) of carb counting: Well, that looks like about 35 carbs to me, let's eat.

But recently, my iPod Touch has changed all that. I now have the very good Calorie King app, which actually beats the pants off of the printed book that used to live in the glove box of my Jeep. The book was great for drive-thrus, but of no use when you've forgotten to take it into a restaurant with you, hence the frequent SWAGing.

At the D'Mine Innovation Summit in November, My good friend Bernard introduced me to a new app called, improbably, Figwee. What's cool about this app is that it has photos of various foods and a slider that lets you make the portions either larger or smaller to mimic what's actually in front of your face. As you change the visual size of the portions, the carb data changes, too. They call it a "photographic portion estimator." It's very cool. You can even change the viewing angle on the food. We used it to estimate how many carbs the tiramisu had. How'd that work out? I don't know, you'll have to ask Bernard. I opted for the spumoni, instead.

So there's a lot of technology out there to help us get a better handle on our foods, and I encourage you to use it. When we guestimate, we risk what I call "error creep." A little at a time we get sloppy. Yeah, you think you're pouring a half-cup of corn flakes into that bowl but you're already up to three-quarters of a cup. If you don't believe me, serve yourself what you think is a third-cup of rice onto your plate, then scrape it back off and into a measuring cup to see how much you really served. I'll be its more than you thought it was! And heavily compacting the rice in the cup is cheating.

So to me, the most reliable method to estimate carbs is weight. I think that's the most accurate, and the simplest. But weighing food when you eat out isn't realistic for most of us. So weigh at home, SWAG (with some real science on your side with the help of a friendly app or two) when you are out and about, and you'll be fine most of the time. And for the rest of the time, that's what correction boluses are for!

Brad, type 2 from Georgia, writes: I was recently diagnosed and my doctor told me about how insulin is like a key that unlocks a door so the sugar can get into the cell. My question is, what closes the door again once the sugar is inside?

Wil@Ask D'Mine answers: Gah! I hate that stupid analogy. As a way to try to make some very complicated science easier to grasp, the action of insulin is often compared to a key that opens a door. Actually, as I'm sure you know, cells don't have little doors. Instead, via processes that border on magic, cells, with the assistance of insulin, can suck glucose right through their own walls. OK, well that was sloppily worded. Cells use highly specialized transporter molecules to ferry glucose from outside the cell wall to inside the cell wall. It's more like the international space station's arm reaching out and grabbing a cargo capsule, than like a tired commuter fumbling with his keys and unlocking his front door at the end of a long hard day.

The actual process involves words and concepts like "unpaired electrons, transmembrane segments, amino acids, hydrogen bonds, vesicles, signaling peptides, lipid folding," and the thoroughly unpronounceable "activated kinase domain autophosphorylates tyrosine." Oww, this is making my brain hurt. Ummmmm.... OK, like you doctor told you, there are these little tiny keys....

Don't get me wrong, I love analogies. I make them up and break them out every chance I get. I'm just not that fond of this one. It really doesn't do a good job of explaining either the pathophysiology or the defect of insulin resistance that leads to type 2 diabetes, and you've just identified yet another weakness of the whole analogy with your "closing the door" question. The problem is, I'm apparently not smart enough to come up with a better analogy than the clichÃ© "key and door."

You know what? Maybe we're talking about the wrong kind of door. The whole process of getting glucose from the blood into a cell is more like walking through one of those revolving doors you see in public buildings. The door is never really open and never really closed, right? As it spins you can pass through. First you are outside. Then you are inside the door. Then you are inside the building. That's pretty much how glucose molecules pass from the blood into the cell. Now all I gotta do is figure out how to explain what part of the door the insulin is... I dunno... the motor that keeps it spinning? And insulin resistance is a crow bar jammed into the works...? OK, this is going to require a whole lot more work on my part.

But to answer your original question, the door doesn't need to shut again, because it was never really open. Just like the revolving door, the door for sugar is constantly spinning, grabbing sugar from outside the cell, holding it in the cell wall for an instant, then releasing it into the inside of the cell where it can be burned for fuel.

And now I'm going to shut the door on this whole conversation... I'll see you all next week. Same time, same channel.

This is not a medical advice column. We are PWDs freely and openly sharing the wisdom of our collected experiences — our been-there-done-that knowledge from the trenches. But we are not MDs, RNs, NPs, PAs, CDEs, or partridges in pear trees. Bottom line: we are only a small part of your total prescription. You still need the professional advice, treatment, and care of a licensed medical professional.

Disclaimer: Content created by the Diabetes Mine team. For more details click here.

Disclaimer

This content is created for Diabetes Mine, a consumer health blog focused on the diabetes community. The content is not medically reviewed and doesn't adhere to Healthline's editorial guidelines. For more information about Healthline's partnership with Diabetes Mine, please click here.

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