#sell a home in houston

[housegreaterhouston]

How to Sell Your Houston Home Quickly: Proven Tips for a Fast Sale

Need to sell your Houston home fast? Follow these proven tips to speed up the selling process and achieve a fast sale. From pricing strategies to marketing tactics, learn how to attract buyers and close deals efficiently.

Effective Pricing Techniques:

Market Analysis: Research comparable sales in your area to set a competitive price.

Pricing Adjustments: Be open to adjusting your price based on market feedback.

Targeted Marketing:

Digital Advertising: Use targeted online ads to reach potential buyers in the Houston area.

Open Houses: Host open houses to attract buyers and generate interest.

Home Presentation:

Professional Cleaning: Ensure your home is spotless before showings.

Minor Upgrades: Invest in small improvements like updated fixtures or fresh paint.

Professional Assistance:

Real Estate Agent Expertise: Choose an experienced agent who can provide market insights and negotiate effectively.

Legal Support: Work with a real estate attorney to handle contracts and closing details.

For more details: Visit Us - https://greaterhoustonhouse.com/

[moveonhousebuyerstx]

Sell Your House Fast in Conroe, TX- A Stress-Free Solution with Move On House Buyers

Nestled in the heart of Montgomery County, Texas, Conroe exudes small-town charm while offering residents easy access to the amenities of nearby Houston. Yet, for homeowners in Conroe facing the need to sell their house quickly, the traditional real estate process can often feel overwhelming. Fortunately, Move On House Buyers provides a streamlined and stress-free solution to selling your house fast in Conroe, TX.

Move On House Buyers understands that life can throw unexpected curveballs, prompting the need for a quick sale. Whether it's due to a job relocation, financial difficulties, or simply a desire for a fresh start, homeowners in Conroe can trust Move On House Buyers to facilitate a seamless and expedited selling process.

So, how does it work? The process begins with a visit to the Move On House Buyers website, where homeowners can provide basic information about their property. From there, the experienced team at Move On House Buyers conducts a thorough assessment and presents a fair cash offer, often within days.

Unlike the traditional selling process, which can be fraught with uncertainty and delays, Move On House Buyers offers a straightforward transaction that puts cash in your pocket quickly. There's no need for costly repairs, extensive staging, or waiting for the perfect buyer to come along – just a hassle-free selling experience tailored to your needs.

What sets Move On House Buyers apart from other cash buyers in Conroe is their commitment to transparency and customer satisfaction. With years of experience in the real estate industry, the team at Move On House Buyers understands the unique needs and concerns of homeowners facing challenging circumstances.

Whether it's an inherited property, a distressed sale, or a house in need of repairs, Move On House Buyers specializes in purchasing properties in any condition, providing homeowners with a convenient and stress-free solution to their selling woes.

Furthermore, Move On House Buyers operates with integrity and professionalism, ensuring that every transaction is conducted with the highest ethical standards. Sellers can rest easy knowing that they are dealing with a reputable and trustworthy company that prioritizes their needs and respects their time.

For homeowners in Conroe seeking to sell their houses quickly and effortlessly, Move On House Buyers offers a beacon of hope. With their simplified process, fair cash offers, and commitment to customer satisfaction, Move On House Buyers makes selling your house fast in Conroe, TX, a reality. Say goodbye to stress and hello to a brighter future with Move On House Buyers by your side.

[saragoates]

Your Guide to Becoming a First-Time Home Buyer in Pearland

Are you dreaming of owning your first home in Pearland, Texas? As a first-time home buyer, the journey to homeownership can be both exciting and daunting. But fear not, because with the right knowledge and guidance, you can make your dream a reality. In this guide, we'll explore everything you need to know about buying your first home in Pearland and the surrounding Fort Bend County area.

Houses in Pearland for Sale: Finding Your Perfect Home

Pearland offers a diverse range of housing options to suit every lifestyle and budget. From cozy starter homes to spacious family residences, there's something for everyone in this vibrant community. Start your search by browsing listings of houses for sale in Pearland, and make note of your must-have features and preferred neighborhoods. Whether you're looking for a charming bungalow in Old Town Pearland or a modern suburban oasis in Shadow Creek Ranch, Pearland has it all.

First-Time Home Buyer in Fort Bend County: Understanding the Process

As a first-time home buyer in Fort Bend County, it's essential to understand the home buying process and familiarize yourself with the steps involved. From getting pre-approved for a mortgage to making an offer and closing the deal, each stage of the process requires careful consideration and attention to detail. Fortunately, you don't have to navigate this journey alone. With the help of an experienced real estate agent specializing in first-time home buyers, you can navigate the complexities of the home buying process with confidence.

Buying a Home in Fort Bend County: Making Informed Decisions

Fort Bend County is a popular destination for home buyers seeking affordable housing, excellent schools, and a high quality of life. Before making a decision, take the time to research the local real estate market, property taxes, school districts, and community amenities. Working with a knowledgeable real estate agent who understands the nuances of the Home in Fort Bend County market can help you make informed decisions and find the perfect home for you and your family.

Real Estate Services Fort Bend County: Expert Guidance Every Step of the Way

When it comes to buying your first home in Pearland or Fort Bend County, having the right support system is key. That's where Sara Goates Real Estate comes in. As a leading real estate agency serving the Houston, TX area, we specialize in helping first-time home buyers navigate the home buying process with ease. From providing personalized property listings to negotiating the best deal on your behalf, we're committed to providing expert guidance and exceptional service every step of the way.

Conclusion: Let's Make Your Dream Home a Reality

Becoming a first-time home buyer in Pearland or Fort Bend County is an exciting milestone, and Sara Goates Real Estate is here to help you every step of the way. With our extensive knowledge of the local market, dedication to client satisfaction, and commitment to excellence, we're ready to make your dream of homeownership a reality. Contact us today to learn more about how we can assist you in finding your perfect home in Pearland or Fort Bend County. Your dream home awaits!

[home-buyers-houston]

Home Buyers Houston - Sell My House Fast | We Buy Houses

Address- 1803 Reseda Dr, Houston, TX, USA 77062

Phone- +1 281-857-6544

Email- info@homebuyershouston.net

Website- https://homebuyershouston.net/

Home Buyers Houston is a seasoned home-buying company providing cash offers for houses across Houston and neighboring areas. With extensive experience as investors, we're keen on purchasing properties in any condition – whether it's a fixer-upper or a move-in ready home. Recognizing the stress and time involved in selling a house, we offer a hassle-free solution to facilitate a quick and cash-based sale. Reach out to us today for further details about our services or to arrange a complimentary consultation.

Business Hours- 24 hours.

Owner Name- Steven Hoeke.

Follow on-

Facebook-         https://www.facebook.com/homebuyersinhoustonTX/

Instagram-        https://www.instagram.com/home.buyers.houston/

LinkedIn-          https://www.linkedin.com/company/home-buyers-houston

Twitter-             https://twitter.com/homebuyershoutx

Pinterest-          https://www.pinterest.com/homebuyershoustontx/

Google-                             https://goo.gl/maps/rWTxgGo7TqDJkc3r7

Youtube-            https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCEFkTnWZ5VgJ2shNt2-sSfA

[homebuyersforcash]

Website : https://homebuyersforcash.net

Address : 7439 Brace St, Houston, TX 77061

Phone : +1 281-918-8908

If you're prepared to sell your house, contact Home Buyer For Cash. Our dedicated team ensures a smooth process for our clients, striving to meet their deserved expectations. Selling a house can be challenging. At Home Buyers For Cash, we prioritize excellent customer service throughout, leading to swift closing times and a streamlined transaction process.

Business  mail : info@homebuyersforcash.net

[sellmyhousefasthoustontx]

Sell My House Fast Houston TX

Cash Home Buyers Houston, TX: Your Key to a Fast Sale

https://linktr.ee/sellmyhousefasthoustontexas

If you're looking to sell your house quickly for cash in Houston, Texas, you've come to the right place. In this article, we'll guide you through the process, focusing on the keywords "cash home buyers Houston TX" to unlock the secrets of a rapid and hassle-free sale.

We Buy Houses: Who Are These Buyers?

https://65042e7f7a982.site123.me/First, let's demystify the world of "we buy houses" companies. Who are these buyers, and what drives their interest in your property? Understanding their motivations is essential as you explore the realm of "we buy houses Houston TX."

Cash for Houses: A Lucrative Option

https://www.zillow.com/profile/sellmyhousefasttx"Sell my house for cash Houston TX" – this phrase embodies the desire for a straightforward and profitable sale. Selling for cash offers numerous advantages, from skipping the arduous listing process to avoiding the uncertainty of traditional transactions.

The Houston Real Estate Market

https://sites.google.com/view/sellmyhousefasthoustontexas/Before you embark on your cash sale journey, it's essential to grasp the nuances of the Houston real estate market. Factors like job opportunities and population growth can significantly impact the timing of your sale. Thus, consider the relevance of "sell my house fast Houston" in this context.

Sell My House Fast Houston, TX

https://priorityhomebuyers.com/sell-my-house-fast-houston-texas/The need for speed in real estate transactions cannot be understated. Whether you're relocating or dealing with financial constraints, "sell my house fast Houston TX" encapsulates the urgency many homeowners feel. Explore the benefits of expediting your sale and how to achieve it.

Navigating the Process As you consider selling to cash home buyers in Houston, understanding the process is key. The steps involved are generally straightforward, provided you know what to expect. Dive into the intricacies of selling to cash home buyers with a focus on "cash home buyers Houston TX."

In The End: In conclusion, selling your Houston home for cash offers an efficient and convenient alternative. By gaining insights into the Houston real estate market, recognizing the advantages of cash sales, embracing the need for speed, and understanding "we buy houses" companies, you can make an informed decision. Houston's real estate landscape provides opportunities for those ready to explore them, and cash home buyers can be your pathway to a swift and seamless transaction.

[generalexpertobject]

How to Become a Homeowner on a First-Time Buyer’s Budget

It’s not easy being a first-time homebuyer right now. At the end of last year, housing affordability hit an all-time low.1Additionally, mortgage rates have risen significantly since 2021, while inventory remains tight for many property categories, but especially for starter homes. Even lower-priced condos are harder to snag these days, as investors and downsizers muscle out first-timers by…

[simkoos]

in between building and trying not to drive myself crazy with my indecisiveness, i've been populating my save with men™

adam bardot, 27: local fuccboi, usually spotted at the boba shop shooting his shot with the vendor

barry king, 72: self-made millionaire (or so he claims), owns the 'kingpin gentlemen's club' in del sol valley. he's lowkey forcing his son to take over the business after his retirement

bryn chamberlain, 22: youngest of 4 siblings. he makes bank on simhub but his parents believe he's simply tipped well at the fancy seafood restaurant in downtown san sequoia 🤷

houston morrisey, 26: lowkey has anger issues and denies it while being argumentative and angry... an amazing photographer, loves media production and any music genre as long as it can be played loudly. always in competition with his best friend shayne

jaxon guzman, 31: kinda unhinged, you just don't know what goes on in that mind of his. freaks out customers works at a marijuana dispensary in del sol valley and has a gf that's equally unhinged

kevin offerman, 25: studies early childhood development at ubrite, loves 2000's pop music, green tea and cozy video games. he's also hope and jamison's nanny 🤍

kieran panzacola, 33: looks tough bc he is. definitely the strong and silent type but has a super soft spot for his puppy maddie ;-;

kristian wang, 21: lifestyle influencer from san myshuno, rarely interacts with sims not in his social circle. claims to be humble and down to earth while bragging about purchasing his first home at 19

myles cook, 26: has tons of friends, the guy to go to if you wanna know where the best parties are. lost count of the amount of piercings he has but wants more smh (if you can't tell i love my alt boys sm)

noel easley, 20: lives solely on ramen, granola bars and mcdonald's french fries. very easy going, is absolutely loved by his friends and peers. he's also an expert at crochet and sells his creations on plopsy! (pls buy a hat he needs more fries)

prof. cliff woodruff, 55: foxbury's renowned robotics professor, divorcee, father of 2 and sugar daddy. 👀

shayne goins, 25: friendly but mysterious, wants to be a rockstar when he grows up, has 3 unrequited love interests bc of his fear of vulnerability and commitment :((( always in competition with his best friend houston

[darkeagleruins]

Things Are So Much Worse Than Anyone Knows

Journalist Todd Bensman Exposes The Largest Illegal Migrant Camp In America.

It’s “massive and almost no one has heard of it” “It's a 60 SQUARE MILE CITY of illegal aliens in the middle of Texas — That is absolutely vast. I've been up there over and in a helicopter — it's to the horizon. You can't even see the end of this thing”

“Colony Ridge. I think this is important. Explain to the listeners what Colony Ridge is and why you were so concerned about it.

It's a 60 square mile city of illegal aliens in the middle of Texas, uh, old East Texas, about 40 miles northeast of Houston. That is absolutely vast. I've been up there over and in a helicopter and in a plane, and I've flown my drone. I mean, it's to the horizon. You can't even see the end of this thing, how vast it is of just kinda dilapidated trailers.

And the developer's been selling land marketed to illegal aliens. — We're probably gonna have at least another couple million in 2024. They have to live somewhere.”

More info: Just outside of Houston sits the largest illegal alien housing community in America - and almost no one’s heard of it.

Roughly the size of Washington D.C, Colony Ridge is home to more than 75,000 illegals and recent reports say that number could easily swell to 200,000.

Real estate developer Trey Harris started this third world city nearly ten years ago. How? By giving illegals direct home loans so they don’t need social security numbers.

The community is also full of stray dogs and cats, gang activity and has become a strategic hub for the Gulf and Sinaloa cartels.

Import the third world and you become the third world.

(Speaking is journalist and author Todd Bensman)

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

1968 [Chapter 6: Athena, Goddess Of Wisdom]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 5.2k

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Here at the midway point in our journey—like Dante stumbling upon the gates of the Inferno—would it be the right moment to review what’s at stake? Let’s begin.

It’s the end of August. The delegates of the Democratic National Convention in Chicago officially vote to name Aemond the party’s presidential candidate. His ascension is aided by 10,000 antiwar demonstrators who flood into the city and threaten to set it ablaze if Hubert Humphrey is chosen instead. At the end—in his death rattle—Humphrey begs to be Aemond’s running mate, one last humiliation he cannot resist. Humphrey is denied. Eugene McCarthy, dignity intact, boards a commercial flight to his home state of Minnesota without looking back.

Aemond selects U.S. Ambassador to France, Sargent Shriver, to be his vice president. Shriver is a Kennedy by marriage—his wife, JFK’s younger sister Eunice, just founded the Special Olympics—and has previously headed the Office of Economic Opportunity, the Peace Corps, and the Chicago Board of Education. He also served as the architect of the president’s “War on Poverty” before distancing himself from the imploding Johnson administration. Shriver is not a concession to fence-sitting moderates or Southern Dixiecrats, but an embodiment of Aemond’s commitment to unapologetic progressivism. Richard Nixon spends the weekend campaigning in his native California, a gold vein of votes like the mines settlers rushed to in 1848. George Wallace announces that he will run as an Independent. Racists everywhere rejoice.

Phase III of the Tet Offensive is underway in Vietnam; 700 American soldiers have been killed this month alone. Riots break out in military prisons where the U.S. Army is keeping their deserters. The North Vietnamese refuse to allow Pope Paul VI to visit Hanoi on a peace mission. President Johnson calls both Aemond and Nixon to personally inform them of this latest evidence of the communists’ unwillingness to negotiate in good faith. Daeron and John McCain remain in Hỏa Lò Prison. The draft swallows men like the titan Cronus devoured his own children.

In Eastern Europe, the Russians are crushing pro-democracy protests in the largest military operation since World War II as half a million troops roll into Czechoslovakia. In Caswell County, North Carolina, the last remaining segregated school district in the nation is ordered by a federal judge to integrate after years of stalling. On the Fangataufa Atoll in the South Pacific, France becomes the fifth nation to successfully explode a hydrogen bomb. In Mexico City, 300,000 students gather to protest the authoritarian regime of President Diaz Ordaz. In Guatemala, American ambassador John Gordon Mein is murdered by a Marxist guerilla organization called the Rebel Armed Forces. In Columbus, Ohio, nine guards are held hostage during a prison riot; after 30 hours, they’re rescued by a SWAT team.

The latest issue of Life magazine brings worldwide attention to catastrophic industrial pollution in the Great Lakes. The first successful multiorgan transplant is carried out at Houston Methodist Hospital. The Beatles release Hey Jude, the best-selling single of 1968 in the U.S., U.K., Australia, and Canada. NASA’s Apollo lunar landing program plans to launch a crewed shuttle next year, just in time to fulfill John F. Kennedy’s 1962 promise to put a man on the moon “before the end of the decade.” If this is successful, the United States will win the Space Race and prove the superiority of capitalism. If it fails, the martyred astronauts will join all the other ghosts of this apocalyptic age, an epoch born under bad stars.

The night sky glows with the ancient debris of the Aurigid meteor shower. From down here on Earth, Jupiter is a radiant white gleam, visible with the naked eye and admired since humans were making cave paintings and Stonehenge. But Io is a mystery. With a telescope, she becomes a dust mote entrapped by Jupiter’s gravity; to the casual observer, she doesn’t exist at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

What was it like, that very first time? It’s strange to remember. You’re both different people now.

It’s May, 1966. You and Aemond are engaged, due to be married in three short weeks, and if you get pregnant then it’s no harm, no foul. In reality, it will end up taking you over a year to conceive, but no one knows that yet; you are living in the liminal space between what you imagine your life will be and the cold blade of the truth. Aemond has brought you to Asteria for the weekend, an increasingly common occurrence. The Targaryens—minus one, that holdout prodigal son, always glowering from behind swigs of rum and clouds of smoke—have already begun to treat you like a member of the family. The flock of Alopekis yap excitedly and lick your shins. Eudoxia learns your favorite snacks so she can have them ready when you arrive.

One night Aemond takes your hand and leads you to Helaena’s garden, darkness turned to twilight in the artificial luminance of the main house. You can hear distant voices, chatter and laughter, and the Beatles’ Rubber Soul spinning on the record player in the living room like a black hole, gravity that not even light can escape when it is wrenched over the event horizon.

You’re giggling as Aemond pulls you along, faster and faster, weaving through pathways lined with roses and sunflowers and butterfly bushes. Your high heels sink into soft, fertile earth; the air in your lungs is cool and infinite. “Where are we going?”

And Aemond grins back at you as he replies: “To Olympus.”

In the circle of hedges guarded by thirteen gods of stone, Aemond unzips your modest pink sundress and slips your heels off your feet, kneeling like he’s proposing to you again. When you are bare and secretless, he draws you down onto the grass and opens you, claims you, fills you to the brim as the crystalline water of the fountain patters and Zeus hurls his lightning bolts, an eternal storm, unending war. It’s intense in a way it never was with your first boyfriend, a sweet polite boy who talked about feminist theory and followed his enlightened conscience all the way to Vietnam. This isn’t just a pleasant way to pass a Friday night, something to look forward to between differential equations textbooks and calculus proofs. With Aemond it’s a ritual; it’s something so overpowering it almost scares you.

“Aphrodite,” Aemond murmurs against your throat, and when you try to get on top he stops you, pins you to the ground, thrusts hard and deep, and you try not to moan too loudly as you surrender, his weight on you like a prophesy. This is how he wants you. This is where you belong.

Has someone ever stitched you to their side, pushing the needle through your skin again and again as the fabric latticework takes shape, until their blood spills into your veins and your antibodies can no longer tell the difference? He makes you think you’ve forgotten who you were before. He makes you want to believe in things the world taught you were myths.

But that was over two years ago. Now Aemond is not your spellbinding almost-stranger of a fiancé—shrouded in just the right amount of mystery—but your husband, the father of your dead child, the presidential candidate. You miss when he was a mirage. You miss what it felt like to get high on the idea of him, each taste a hit, each touch a rush of toxins to the bloodstream.

Seven weeks after your emergency c-section, you are healing. Your belly no longer aches, your bleeding stops, you can rejoin the living in this last gasp of summer. Ludwika takes you shopping and you pick out new swimsuits; you’ve gone up a size since the baby, and it shows no signs of vanishing. In the fitting room, Ludwika chain-smokes Camel cigarettes and claps when you show her each outfit, ordering you to spin around, telling you that there’s nothing like Oleg Cassini back in Poland. You plan to buy three swimsuits. Ludwika insists you get five. She pays with Otto’s American Express.

That afternoon at home in your blue bedroom, you get changed to join the rest of the family down by the pool, your first swim since Ari was born. You choose Ludwika’s favorite: a dreamy turquoise two-piece with flowing transparent fabric that drapes your midsection. You can still see the dark vertical line of where the doctors stitched you closed. Now you and Aemond match; he got his scar on the floor of the Breakers Hotel in Palm Beach, you earned yours at Mount Sinai Hospital in Manhattan. There are gold chains on your wrist and looped around your neck. Warm sunlight and ocean wind pours in through the open windows.

Aemond appears in the doorway and you turn to show him, proud of how you’ve pulled yourself together, how this past year hasn’t put you in an asylum. His right eye catches on your scar and stays there for a long time. Then at last he says: “You don’t have something else to wear?”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Labor Day, and Asteria has been descended upon by guests invited to celebrate Aemond’s nomination. The dining room table is overflowing with champagne, Agiorgitiko wine, platters of mini spanakopitas, lamb gyros, pita bread with hummus and tzatziki, feta cheese and cured meats, grilled octopus, baklava, and kourabiethes. Eudoxia is rushing around sweeping up crumbs and shooing tipsy visitors away from antique vases shipped here from Greece. Aemond’s celebrity endorsers include Sammy Davis Jr., Sonny and Cher, Andy Williams, Bobby Darin, Warren Beatty, Shirley MacLaine, Claudine Longet, and a number of politicians; but the most notable attendee is President Lyndon Baines Johnson, shadowed by Secret Service agents. He won’t be making any surprise appearances on the campaign trail for Aemond—in the present political climate, he would be more of a liability than an asset—but he has travelled to Long Beach Island tonight to offer his well-wishes. From the record player thrums Jimi Hendrix’s All Along The Watchtower.

When you finish getting ready and arrive downstairs, you spot Aegon: slouching in a velvet chair over a century old, hair shagging in his eyes, sipping something out of a chipped mug he clasps with both hands, flirting with a bubbly early-twenties campaign staffer. Aegon smiles and waves when he sees you. You wave back. And you think: When did he become the person I look for when I walk into a room?

Now Aemond is beside you in a blue suit—beaming, confident, his glass eye in place, a hand resting on your waist—and Aegon isn’t smiling anymore. He takes a gulp of what is almost certainly straight rum from his mug and returns his attention to the campaign staffer, his lady of the hour. You picture him undressing her on his shag carpet and feel disorienting, violent envy like a bullet.

Viserys is already fast asleep upstairs, but the rest of the family is out en masse to charm the invitees and pose for photographs. Alicent, Helaena, and Mimi—trying very hard to act sober, blinking too often—are chit-chatting with the other political wives. Otto is complaining about something to Criston; Criston is pretending to listen as he stares at Alicent. Ludwika is smoking her Camels and talking to several young journalists who are ogling her, enraptured. Fosco and Sargent Shriver are entertaining a group of guests with a boisterous, lighthearted debate on the merits of Italian versus French cuisine, though they agree that both are superior to Greek. The nannies have brought the eight children to be paraded around before bedtime. All Cosmo wants to do is clutch your hand and “help” you navigate around the living room, warning you not to step on the small, weaving Alopekis. When Mimi attempts to steal her youngest son away, he ignores her, and as she begins to make a scene you rebuke her with a harsh glare. Mimi retreats meekly. She has never argued with you, not once in over two years. You speak for Aemond, and Aemond is a god.

As the children are herded off to their beds by the nannies, Bobby Kennedy—presently serving as a New York senator despite residing primarily on his family’s compound in Massachusetts—approaches to congratulate Aemond. His wife Ethel is a tiny, nasally, scrappy but not terribly bright woman, five months pregnant with her eleventh child, and you have to get away from her like a hand pulled from a hot stove.

“You know, I was considering running,” Bobby says to Aemond, chuckling, good-natured. “But when I saw you get in the race, I thought better of it! Maybe I’ll give it a go in ’76, huh?”

“Hey, kid, what a tough year you’ve had,” Ethel tells you, patting your forearm. You can’t tear your eyes from her small belly. She has ten living children already. I couldn’t keep one. What kind of sense does that make? “We’re real sorry for your trouble, aren’t we, Bobby?”

Now he is nodding somberly. “We are. We sure are. We’ve been praying for you both.”

Aemond is thanking them, sounding touched but entirely collected. You manage some hurried response and then excuse yourself. Your hands are shaking as you cross the room, not really seeing it. You walk right into Lady Bird Johnson. She takes pity on you; she seems to perceive how rattled you are. “Oh Lyndon, look, it’s just who we were hoping to speak to! The next first lady of the United States. And how beautiful you are, just radiant. How do you keep your hair so perfect? That glamorous updo. You never have a single strand out of place.” Lady Bird lays a palm tenderly on your bare shoulder. She has an unusual, angular face, but a wise sort of compassion that only comes from suffering. Her husband is an unrepentant serial cheater. “I’ll make you a list of everything you need to know about the White House. All the quirks of the property, and the hidden gems too!”

“You’re so kind. We’ll see what happens in November…”

“Good evening, ma’am,” President Johnson says, smiling warmly. He’s an ugly man, but there’s something hypnotic that lives inside him and shines through his eyes like the blaze of a lighthouse. He pulls you in through the dark, through the storm; he promises you answers to questions you haven’t thought of yet. LBJ is 6’4 and known for bullying his political adversaries with the so-called “Johnson Treatment”; he leans in and makes rapid-fire demands until they forget he’s not allowed to hit them. “I have to tell you frankly, I don’t envy anyone who inherits that den of rattlesnakes in Washington D.C.”

“Lyndon, don’t frighten her,” Lady Bird scolds fondly.

“Everyone thinks they know what to do about Vietnam,” LBJ plods onwards. “But it’s a damned if you do, damned if you don’t clusterfuck. If you keep fighting, they call you a murderer. But if you pull the troops out and South Vietnam falls to the communists, every single man lost was for nothing, and you think the families will stand for that? Their kid in a body bag, or his legs blown off, or his brain scrambled? There’s no easy answer. It’s a goddamn bitch of a quagmire.”

Lady Bird offers you a sympathetic smirk. Sorry about all this unpleasantness, she means. When he gets himself worked up, I can’t stop him. But you find yourself feeling sorry for President Johnson. It will be difficult for him to learn how to fade into disgraced obscurity after once being so omnipotent, so beloved. Reinvention hurts like hell: fevers raging, bones mending, healing flesh that itches so ferociously you want to claw it off.

LBJ gives Lady Bird a look, quick but meaningful. She acquiesces. This has happened a thousand times before. “It was so nice talking to you, dear,” she tells you, then crosses the living room to pay her respects to Alicent.

The president steps closer, looming, towering. The Johnson Treatment?? you think, but no; he isn’t trying to intimidate you. He’s just curious.

“Do you know what Aemond’s plan is for ‘Nam?” LBJ asks, eyes urgent, voice low. “I’m sure he has one. He’s sworn to end the draft as soon as he gets into office, but how is he going to make sure the South Vietnamese can fend off the North themselves? We’re trying to train the bastards, but if we left they’d fold in months. It would be the first war the U.S. ever lost. Does he understand that?”

“He doesn’t really discuss it with me.” That’s true; you know his policies, but only because they are a constant subject of conversation within the family, something you all breathe like oxygen.

“We can’t let Nixon win,” LBJ continues. “It’s mass suicide to leave the country in his hands. The man can’t hold his liquor anymore, getting robbed by Kennedy in ’60 broke something in him. He gets sloshed and shoves his aids around, makes up conspiracies in his head. He’s a paranoid little prick. He’ll surveille the American people. He’ll launch a nuke at Moscow.”

You honestly don’t know what he expects you to say. “I’ll pass the message along to Aemond.”

“People love you, Mrs. Targaryen.” LBJ watching you closely. “Believe it or not, they used to love me too. But I still remember how to play the game. You’re the only reason Aemond is leading the polls in Florida. You can get him other states too. Jack needed Jackie. Aemond needs you. And you’ve had tragedies, and that’s a damn shame. But don’t you miss an opportunity. You take every disappointment, every fucked up cruelty of life and find a way to make it work for you. You pin it to your chest like a goddamn medal. Every single scar makes you look more mortal to those people going to the ballot box in November. You want them to be able to see themselves in you. It helps the mansions and the millions go down smoother.”

“President Johnson!” Aegon says as he saunters over, huge mocking grin. He thumps a closed fist against the Texan’s broad chest; the Secret Service agents standing ten feet away observe this sternly. “How thoughtful of you to be here, taking time out of your busy schedule, squeezing us in between war crimes.”

“The mayor of Trenton,” LBJ jabs.

“The butcher of Saigon.”

Now the president is no longer amused. “You’ve never accomplished anything in your whole damn life, son. Your obituary will be the size of a postage stamp. I’m looking forward to reading it someday soon.” He leaves, rejoining Lady Bird at the opposite end of the room.

You frown at Aegon, disapproving. You’re dressed in a sparkling, royal blue gown that Aemond chose. “That was unnecessary.”

Aegon is wearing an ill-fitting green shirt—half the buttons undone—khaki pants, and tan moccasins. “I just did you a favor.”

“What happened to your new girlfriend? Shouldn’t she be getting railed in your basement right now? Did she have a prior commitment? Did she have a spelling test to study for? Those can be tricky, such complex words. Juvenile. Inappropriate. Infidelity.”

“You know what he brags about?” Aegon says, meaning LBJ. “That he’s fucked more women by accident than John F. Kennedy ever did on purpose.”

“That sounds…logistically challenging.”

“He’s a lech. He’s a freak. He tells everyone on Capitol Hill how big his cock is. He takes it out and swings it around during meetings.”

“And that’s all far less than admirable, but he’s not going to do something like that around me.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he’s not an idiot,” you say impatiently. “He was perfectly civil. And I was getting interesting advice.”

Aegon rolls his eyes, exasperated. “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry I crashed your cute little pep talk with Lyndon Johnson, the most hated man on the planet.”

“I guess you can’t stop Aemond from touching me, so you have to terrorize LBJ instead.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Aegon hisses, and his venom stuns you. And now you’re both trapped: you loosed the arrow, he proved you hit the mark. He’s flushing a deep, mortified red. Your guts are twisting with remorse.

“Aegon, wait, I didn’t mean—”

He whirls and storms off, shoving his way through the crowd. People glare at him as they clutch their glasses and plates, sighing in that What else do you expect from the worthless son? sort of way. You’re still gaping blankly at the place where Aegon stood when Aemond finds you, snakes a hand around the back of your neck, and whispers through the painstakingly-arranged wisps of hair that fall around your ear: “Follow me.”

It’s not a question. It’s a command. You trail him through the living room, into the foyer, and through the front door, not knowing what he wants. Outside the moon is a sliver; the light from the main house makes the stars hard to see. “Aemond, you’ll never believe the conversation I just had with LBJ. He really unloaded, I think the stress is driving him insane. I have to tell you what he said about—”

“Later.” And this is jarring; Aemond doesn’t put anything before strategy. He grabs your hand as he turns into Helaena’s garden, and only then do you understand what he wants. Instinctively, your legs lock up and your feet stop moving. Aemond tugs you onward. He wants it to be like the very first time. He intends to start over with you, the dawning of a new age in the dead of night.

Hidden in the circle of hedges, he takes your face roughly in his hands and kisses you, drinks you down like a vampire, consumes you like wildfire. But your skull echoes with panic. I don’t want him touching me. I don’t want another child with him. “Aemond…”

He doesn’t hear you, or acts like he doesn’t, or mistakes it for a murmur of desire, or chooses to believe it is. He has you down on the grass under the vengeful gaze of Zeus, the fountain splashing, the sounds of the house a low foreign drone. He yanks off your panties, but he doesn’t want you naked like he always did before. He pushes the hem of your shimmering cobalt gown up to your hips and unbuckles his trousers. And you realize as he’s touching you, as he’s easing himself into you: He doesn’t want to have to look at my scar.

You can’t ignore him, you can’t pretend it’s not happening. He’s too big for that. It’s a biting fullness that demands to be felt. So you kiss him back, and knot your fingers in his short hair like you used to, and try to remember the things you always said to him before. And when Aemond is too absorbed to notice, you look away from him, from the statue of Zeus, and peer up into the stone face of Athena instead: the goddess who never married and who knows the answer to every question.

“I love you,” Aemond says when it’s over, marveling at the slopes of your face in the dim ethereal light. “Everything will be right again soon. Everything will be perfect.”

You conjure up a smile and nod like you believe him.

“What did LBJ say?”

“Can I tell you later tonight? After the party, maybe? I just need a few minutes.”

“Of course.” And now Aemond pretends to be patient. He buckles his belt and returns to the main house, his blood coursing with the possibilities only you can make real, his skin damp with your sweat.

For a while—ten minutes, twenty minutes—you lie there on the cool grass wondering what it was like for all those mortals and nymphs, being pinned down by Zeus and then having Hera try to kill them afterwards, raising ill-fated reviled bastards they couldn’t help but love. What is heaven if the realm of the immortals is so cruel? Why does the god of justice seem so immune to it?

When at last you rise and walk back towards the house, you find Mimi at the edge of the garden. She’s on her knees and retching into a rose bush; she’s cut her face on the thorns, but she hasn’t noticed yet. She’s groaning; she seems lost.

You reach for her, gripping her bony shoulders. “Mimi, here, let’s get you upstairs…”

“No,” she blubbers, tears streaming down her scratched cheeks. “Just go away. Leave me.”

“Mimi—”

“No!” she roars, a mournful hemorrhage as she slaps your hands until you release her.

“You don’t have to be this way,” you tell her, distraught. “You can give up drinking. We’ll help you, me and Fosco and Ludwika. You can start over. You can be healthy and present again, you can live a real life.”

Mimi stares up at you, her grey eyes glassy and bloodshot but with a vicious, piercing honesty. “My husband hates me. My kids don’t know I exist. What the hell do I have to be sober for?”

You weren’t expecting this. You don’t know what to say. “We can help make the world better.”

“The world would be better without me in it.”

Then Mimi curls up on the grass under the rose bush, and stays there until you return with Fosco to drag her upstairs to her empty bed.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next afternoon, you’re lying on a lounge chair by the pool. Tomorrow the family will leave Asteria and embark upon a vigorous campaign schedule that will continue, with very few breaks, until Election Day on Tuesday, November 5th. The children are splashing and shrieking in the pool with Fosco, but you aren’t looking at them. You’re staring across the sun-drenched emerald lawn at the Atlantic Ocean. You’re envisioning all the bones and splinters of sunken ships that must litter the silt of the abyss; you’re thinking that it’s a graveyard with no headstones, no memory. Your swimsuit is a red one-piece. Your eyes are shielded by large black Ray Bans aviator sunglasses. Your gaze flicks up to the cloudless blue sky, where all the stars and planets are invisible.

Jupiter has nearly a hundred moons; the largest four were discovered by Galileo in 1610. Europa is a smooth white cosmic marble with a crust of ice, beautiful, immaculate. Ganymede, the largest moon in our solar system and the only satellite with its own magnetic field, is rumored to have a vast underground saltwater ocean that may contain life. Callisto is dark and indomitable, riddled with impact craters; because of her dynamic atmosphere and location beyond Jupiter’s radiation belts, she is considered the best location for possible future crewed missions to the Jovian system. But Io is a wasteland. She has no water and no oxygen. Her only children are 400 active volcanoes, sulfur plumes and lava flows, mountains of silicate rock higher than Mount Everest, cataclysmic earthquakes as her crust slips around on a mantle of magma. Her daily radiation levels are 36 times the lethal limit for humans. If Hades had a home in our corner of the galaxy, it would be Io. She glows ruby and gold with barren apocalyptic fury. You can feel yourself turning poisonous like she is. You can feel your skin splitting open as the lava spills out.

Aegon trots out of the house—red swim trunks, cheap red plastic sunglasses, no shirt, a beach towel slung around his neck, flip flops—and kicks your chair. “Get up. We’re going sailing.”

“I don’t want to talk to anybody.”

“Great, because I’m not asking you to talk. I’m telling you to get in my boat.”

You don’t reply. You don’t think you can without your voice cracking. Aegon crouches down beside your chair and pushes your sunglasses up into your Brigitte Bardot-inspired hair so he can see your face. Your eyes are pink, wet, desperately sad. Deep troubled grooves appear in his forehead as he studies you. Gently, wordlessly, he pats your cheek twice and lowers your sunglasses back over your eyes. Then he stands up again and offers you his hand.

“Let’s go,” Aegon says, softly this time. You take his hand and follow him down to the boathouse.

Five vessels are currently kept there. Aegon’s sailboat is a 25-foot Wianno Senior sloop, just roomy enough for a few passengers. He’s had it since long before you married into the Targaryen family. It is white with hand-painted gold accents; the name Sunfyre adorns the stern. He unmoors the boat, pushes it out into the open water, and raises the sails.

You glide eastbound over the glittering crests of waves, slowly at first, then faster as the sails catch the wind. Aegon has one hand on the rudder, the other grasping the ropes. And the farther you get from shore, the smaller Asteria seems, and the Targaryen family, and the presidential election, and the United States itself. Now all that exists is this boat: you, Aegon, the squawking gulls, the school of mackerel, the ocean. The sun beats down; the breeze rips strands of your hair free. The battery-powered record player is blasting White Room by Cream. When you are far enough from land that no journalists would be able to get a photo, Aegon takes two joints and his Zippo out of the pocket of his swim trunks. He puts both joints between his lips, lights them, and passes you one. Then he stretches out beside you on the deck, gazing up at the September sky.

You ask as your muscles unravel and your thoughts turn light and easy to share: “Why did you bring me out here?”

“So you can drown yourself,” Aegon says, and you both laugh. “Nah. I used to go sailing all the time when I was a teenager. It always made me feel better. It was the only place where I could really be alone.”

You consider the math. “Wow. You haven’t been a teenager since before I was in kindergarten.”

“It’s weird to think about. You don’t seem that young.”

“Thanks, I guess. You don’t seem that old.”

“Maybe we’re meeting in the middle.” He inhales deeply and then exhales in a rush of smoke. “What do you think, should I get an earring?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“It might shock Otto so bad it kills him.”

“I’ll get two.” And then Aegon says: “It’s not cool for you to mock me.”

You are dismayed; you didn’t mean to hurt him. “I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were. You were mocking me. You mocked me about the receipt under my ashtray, and then you mocked me again last night. I’m up for a lot of things, but I can’t handle that. Okay?”

“Okay.” You turn your head so you can see him: shaggy blonde hair, stubble, perpetual sunburn, the softness of his belly and his chest, flesh you long to vanish into like rain through parched earth. “Aegon?”

He looks over at you. “Io?”

“I don’t want Aemond to touch me either.”

He’s surprised; not by what you feel, but because you’ve said it aloud, a treason like Prometheus giving mankind the gift of fire. “What are we gonna do about it?”

If you were the goddess of wisdom, maybe you’d know.

[billboard-hotties-tourney]

Dolly Parton (1946-) solo Songs: "Jolene," "I Will Always Love You" Defeated Opponents: Alice Coltrane, Ruth Brown, Patti Smith, Linda Ronstadt, Donna Summer, Aretha Franklin Propaganda: "One of the best country (and any) musicians to grace us with her talents for decades! A bimbo with a brain and we love her! Beyoncé and Whitney Houston covered her songs. This woman supports women! And literacy! But also her voice is one of a kind and she knows how to command any stage she's on." "She's one of the world's best-selling musicians and she's an actress! Shes's also an advocate for LGBT rights, gives money to HIV/AIDS research, and many more causes. She donates one book per month to every kid born in Tennessee up until they're 5 years old. She put a lot of money into COVID research. Her large chest is so well-known that it's been written about in songs, military tanks have been named after her, and Dolly the cloned sheep shares her name. Also, she apparently wrote Jolene and Whitney Houston's I Will Always Love You in the same day!" "She's adorable. She's funny. She smart and business savvy enough that she would probably be a billionaire if she wasn't also a genuinely wonderful human being who gives tons and tons of money away to various charities and causes. She's so supportive of younger artists and artists of color and the queer community. She's always so gracious and genuinely excited when new artists cover her songs. She's the best thing to ever come from the state of Tennessee and I love her entirely. We do not deserve her but I'm glad we have her."

Nina Simone (1933-2003) solo Songs: "Feelin' Good," "Wild is the Wind" Defeated Opponents: Siouxsie Sioux, Patsy Cline, Janis Joplin, Billie Holiday, Cher, Sister Rosetta Tharpe Propaganda: "She has a hard taking-no-shit attitude that instantly turns me on" "music peaked here everyone else can go home"

Visual Propaganda for Dolly Parton:

Visual Propaganda for Nina Simone:

[moveonhousebuyerstx]

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Fast and Convenient Process: With Move On House Buyers, selling your house is quick and easy. Once you accept their cash offer, they'll handle all the paperwork and closing details, so you can focus on what's important to you. There's no need to clean or prepare your home for sale, and you won't have to deal with the stress of multiple showings or open houses. Plus, since they buy houses in any condition and in any situation, you can sell your house on your timeline, without the hassle.

So if you're ready to sell your house the easy way, contact Move On House Buyers today. Get your no-obligation cash offer and sell your house on your terms – no repairs, no realtor fees, and no closing costs required. It's the simplest and most convenient way to sell your house fast and move on to the next chapter of your life.

[saragoates]

Finding Your Dream Home in East Bernard: A Guide to Real Estate in Houston and Surrounding Areas

Are you on the lookout for your dream home in East Bernard or the surrounding areas of Houston, TX? Whether you're a First-Time Homebuyer in Pearland, interested in buying and selling real estate in Missouri City, or seeking new homes for sale in East Bernard, SG Realty has you covered.

Exploring Real Estate Opportunities in East Bernard

East Bernard, TX, offers a picturesque setting for those seeking a peaceful and charming place to call home. If you're in the market for land acreage in East Bernard, our website, SG Realty, is your go-to resource for all things real estate. We specialise in connecting buyers and sellers, making the process of finding your ideal property a breeze.

New Homes for Sale in East Bernard

Discover the latest listings for new homes in East Bernard on our user-friendly website. We understand that finding the perfect home is a significant decision, and our comprehensive listings make the search process efficient and enjoyable. From cosy family homes to spacious estates, East Bernard has a diverse range of options to suit various preferences and budgets.

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If you're considering selling your property in East Bernard or any surrounding areas, our home valuation contractors in Sugar Land can provide you with an accurate estimate of your home's worth. Knowing the value of your home is crucial for making informed decisions in the real estate market.

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[covid-safer-hotties]

Covid surge limits CVS’s at-home test supply in some cities - Published Aug 3, 2024

SOME CVS Health pharmacies are selling out of at-home Covid tests as a summer surge in infections drives up demand.

As at Friday (Aug 2) afternoon, CVS’s website showed that all brands of tests were out of stock at many locations in cities including Houston, Austin and Reno, Nevada.

The company said that 91 per cent of its stores have at least one brand of test in stock. While the company “has seen an uptick in purchases” of the tests, it’s “quickly sending product to impacted stores”, a spokesperson said.

Covid levels across the country are currently “high”, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, which measures the viral load in wastewater data to evaluate the virus’ prevalence. The preliminary data shows that levels of Covid viral activity have surpassed last summer’s peak in the US South, West and Midwest.

Websites of Walgreens Boots Alliance locations showed robust supplies of the tests, and the company said it’s well stocked. Walgreens and multiple independent pharmacies in New York City reported that demand for at-home Covid tests has increased sharply in recent months. Purchases are at the highest since the holiday season, according to Walgreens spokesperson Molly Sheehan.

Before this summer, demand for the tests had been fading. Abbott Laboratories, which makes Binax Covid tests, reported that sales of the tests slumped 61 per cent in the second quarter to US$102 million from US$263 million a year earlier. Medicare coverage of at-home tests expired when the public health emergency ended in May 2023, contributing to the trend, said Amy Kelbick, health policy director at McDermott+, a consulting firm.

She said the sudden swings in demand make it challenging for retailers to keep stocks at the right levels. “It’s really hard to turn things back on,” Kelbick said, adding that test makers may have let go of rented manufacturing space or repurposed factory lines amid waning demand.