#the old host would have been the final girl. i would be the sleazy guy who gets killed early on and you don't feel bad for

[troubatrain]

sober - m. barzal (pt. two)

a/n: part two every body give it up for reposting part two!!

One - Three

The sounds of skates on the ice at the Rangers practice facility were becoming almost therapeutic at this point, you close your eyes basking in it for a moment while you edited a video from a charity event the team hosted the week before. You had a makeshift desk in the hallway that led to the locker, trying to get as much work as you could none so you could try and wipe your memory of everything that had to do with Mat Barzal. You knew you shouldn’t have let him win, because men that smug don’t need an ego boost, but you did. Mika’s voice on the other side of that bathroom door was the wake up call you desperately needed. Mat Barzal was a gigantic mistake, and you had to just forget he ever existed. But, his contact was burning in your phone, Mat with a blue and orange heart just to piss you off a little bit more.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” Chris huffs out, his large frame towering over you and leaning on your desk. His eyebrows were furrowed, he’d seen right through, something was off.

“Nothing Kreids,” You roll your eyes, trying to cover up the fact that you were thinking about Mat’s mouth on your pussy in that bar bathroom, “Seriously, I’ll get over it.”

“This is about a guy isn’t it?” Chris questions, grabbing the chair across from you and sitting in it, “Spill.”

“I’m not diving into my dating life with you,” You snap back, catching yourself before your tone gets too harsh. It wasn’t that Chris wasn’t your friend, because he was, it was that you didn’t want to get caught gossiping when you were supposed to be working. Charlotte would have your head on a stick, and everything you’d been working for since you got the job would just be for nothing, “I’m fine seriously, I have a date tonight.”

You did. The night after you last saw Mat, you’d gotten bored enough to open up Tinder on your phone. A couple of swipes later, you had a date with some finance bro from Murray Hill you weren’t going to call the next day. If you wanted to get over somebody, you were just going to have to get under somebody else. Plus, in a city this big, the odds you’d ever run into Mat again were probably slim.

“Like a real date or a rebound date?” Chris asks, a humorous tone to his voice. Chris was a romantic, but you knew Chris Kreider’s were few and far between. So while you were young, you decided that it didn’t matter if you fell in love, you could do that later. For now, you were going to work hard and play harder. 

“A rebound date,” You smirk, watching Chris roll his eyes at you, “Don’t slut shame me Chris or I will-”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Chris defends throwing his hands up before you really got into it, “Just call me if he’s a creep or something, please.”

“Okay dad,” You snort, laughing and directing your attention back to the video you were supposed to be editing.

***

Maybe you should have listened to Chris. The man sitting in front of you did nothing besides talk about himself, his job, and he was unbelievably rude to your waiter. You should expect this, as if some random dude you met off Tinder would be some sort of gentleman but you thought maybe, just maybe, you’d be wrong. Unfortunately for you, you were just reminded of one thing - men are trash.

“So what do you do?” Chad asks, which could very possibly actually be his name but you’d forgotten while you were trying to block this entire night from your memory.

“Oh, I work for the Rangers,” You shrug, it wasn’t that you weren’t proud of your job. But the questions that came after were always the same, and if you were right, Chad would have the same answer.

“They must love having a pretty little thing like you around,” The words were sleazy, and they left the same icky feeling in your stomach that they always did. You didn’t want to be some pretty little thing that was around for someone’s amusement. You were an adult who had a pretty important job and you liked to be respected and in the little bubble you lived in at MSG, you were. But, no one outside of 8th and 33rd seemed to agree.

That was the moment when you realized someone’s eyes had been on you the whole time, stopping you from chewing out your date in the middle of the restaurant. Mat Barzal was seated across the restaurant, a girl who looked like a supermodel in front of him. You roll at your eyes at his cocky smile, the girl paying no mind that he wasn’t even listening to her. You pull your phone, letting Chad ramble on about how nice your gig with the Rangers must be.

stop staring at me barz

i can’t when you look like that angel

pretty sure the girl in front of you should keep you busy

pretty sure the guy in front of you is a douche, sneak out of here in 5?

in your dreams

i’ve had dreams about you, they’re pretty fucking filthy though

You stop, rubbing your thighs together subconsciously. You were on this date to forget Mat ever existed and going home with him would be an enormous mistake. One more time couldn’t hurt? Right?

call the uber loser

You watched Mat’s face light up, practically slamming cash down and saying goodbye to his date, before he skipped out of the restaurant. You shake your head at his obviousness, excusing yourself to go use the restroom and thanking whatever higher power that it was close to the exit. The second you stepped out, you could feel an arm wrap itself around you - pulling you into a broad chest.

“I like this little game we’re playing,” Mat smirks, pecking your lips while you wait for a car to pull up. You raise your eyebrows at him, waiting for an explanation, “You know, where you pretend to hate me because we’re supposed to but in reality you can’t stay away - you know how these movies end.”

“I can go back inside,” You threaten, pointing to your date who is still sitting at the table.

“Why? So you can hang out with some dude who you know can’t get you off like I can,” Mat scoffs, his ego getting bigger by the second.

“Maybe I’ll just steal your date,” You smirk, taking notice of the way Mat’s face lit up, “You’re a pig.”

“You’re not a ray of fucking sunshine either you know,” Mat scoffs.

“Your ego’s huge, I’m just keeping you humble,” You tease, pushing his arm off of you, he didn’t get to claim you like that.

“It’s not going to humble me when you’re at my apartment screaming my name,” Mat smirks, and you roll your eyes.

***

Mat’s apartment was a vague memory from the night you had spent. But, you remembered enough to point out every reason why you hated it. It was a bachelor’s apartment, filled with overpriced dark furniture that you know someone else picked out - or even worse, it came with the apartment. The view was immaculate, the floor to ceiling windows lived in the dreams of your own ideal place. The decor was typical, a few jerseys framed on the walls that you most definitely should have noticed when you left his place.

“You can say you hate it,” Mat chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist while you continued to take in the apartment, “I’m sure it’s not up to your standards.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, biting your lip to suppress the moan that was trying to escape with Mat was nibbling at your ear lightly.

“It means you know you’re better than me,” Mat whispers, “But I know there’s one thing I’m better at than you and that’s why you’re here. I can fucking ruin you.”

“Mat,” You sigh, elbowing him in the stomach while he smirked against your neck, “I’ll ruin you first.”

Mat let out a dramatic groan, “You’re such a brat.”

Before you could defend yourself and chirp him back, Mat had his large hands on your thighs while he carried you into his bedroom, dropping you on the bed. His mouth was sucking at your neck, and you knew you were going to have to invest in a new concealer if you kept this up. Well, at least he finally shut up-

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Mat whispers, his hands exploring your body, “You going to remember it this time?”

“Shut up,” You whimper, trying to let out how good Mat’s hands under your shirt actually felt. They were huge, and the rough skin against yours made your pussy flutter. Mat unclasped your bra, smirking to himself when he got it on the first try, “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of practice.”

“I have that’s why I know I’m good,” Mat smirks, climbing down your body while you shed your clothes. Mat slips his finger under your jeans, pulling your panties off in one swift motion, “Fuck, I think you know it too. Are you this wet for little old me?”

You didn’t have words for his stupidity, instead you kicked his back with the heel of your foot. You heard Mat’s laugh while he pressed open mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs, “You’d be a lot cuter if you were nicer.”

“You’d be a lot cuter if you didn’t laugh like a hyena but here we are,” You chirped, sighing when you feel Mat’s finger slid up your folds.

Mat Barzal’s oral game was, in all honesty, immaculate. Were you going to let him know that? Absolutely not. Were you going to let him milk for every orgasm you had left? You might.

“Mat, fuck,” You let out a breathy moan, a real one trying to escape you. Mat had made you cum twice already, and his mouth was well on his way to a third before his dick even touched you.

“Let me hear you Y/N,” Mat halts his movements, curling his fingers to see if he could just get it out of you.

“Faster,” You moan out, your hips lifting to try and get his fingers to start moving again. Mat smirks, finally satisfied before his tongue swirled your clit to send you over the edge. Mat finally pulled away, wiping the sides of his mouth that were glistening from you.

“Ready for me?” Mat asks, a smug smile on his face. You nod, watching while he reached over into his nightstand to grab a condom.

“That box is awfully big,” You joke, not able to stop yourself from making fun of Mat. In reality, he probably wasn’t any better than you were, but that didn’t mean for a second you didn’t think he needed to be knocked down a few pegs.

Now, it was Mat’s turn to roll his eyes, “Because you’re such an angel.”

“I’m not, I’m the devil,” You smile, biting your lip while you watched Mat roll the condom over his cock. This part you may have remembered vaguely, but you didn’t remember how big it really was.

“Tell me if I’m being too rough,” Mat groans, entering you slowly so you could adjust to him. At least he isn’t a total douche.

“I thought you were going to ruin me Barz,” You tease, “I’m sure you know better than to talk a big game and not deliver.”

Mat’s eyes went a shade darker, a smirk on his face while he snapped his hips back and slammed back into you, causing you to let out a moan that was so loud you were positive his neighbors heard. His pace kept up, the sounds of his skin slapping against yours filled the room. You grab into any skin you could find while Mat continued to pound into you, your legs practically shaking from the feeling. Your nails dug into his skin, only boosting Mat’s confidence that he was good.

Mat gave you one more orgasm before he finally let himself go, his hips stuttering and a string of curse escaping his mouth. He stayed for a minute, trying to let you both bring yourselves down before he finally slipped out of you.

“You can stay if you can’t walk,” Mat jokes, his nude frame walking back into his room with a warm towel to clean you up. You didn’t peg him as much of an aftercare guy, especially for someone who probably got laid more than the average person.

“I’ll crawl back to Manhattan before I sleep in this bed with you,” You say while you pull yourself up from the bed. You gather your clothes, getting dressed while Mat watches you from his bed.

“So…” Mat starts, his hands behind his head in a way that was just so masculine you didn’t know if you wanted to go another round or punch him square in the face, “Did I make the team?”

“We can’t do this again,” You say, trying your hardest to keep your cool. If you were being honest, you probably would have done it again.

“We can,” Mat suggests wiggling his eyebrows, “It’ll be our dirty little secret, that’s hot.”

“Barz...”

“Y/N...”

“I’ll call you.”

“So I made the cut?”

[mxpseudonym]

In Defense of Pepto Bismol

Pairing: Dallas Winston x OFC

Summary: Dally comes to the rescue during Kennedy’s late night shift at The Dingo

Length: 1305 words (allegedly)

Warnings: Creepy old men, harassment 

A/N: I write a lot of Outsiders stuff with this character and figured I’d actually just post it here and on AO3. I don’t think I’ll ever get around to finishing the full story, but maybe. 

--

"You look hot in the uniform," Dallas Winston complimented me from his table as I cleaned the booth next to him. Getting my mom to agree to let me work at the Dingo wasn't easy, but it was so worth it. Nothing beat having extra cash and finally getting to do something other than watching Flipper on TV. It didn't hurt that I got to know most of the Greasers in my East Side neighborhood either, Dallas and Sylvia, who I thought was his girlfriend, included. 

"Really? Because I feel like a bottle of Pepto-Bismol," I cringed and looked down at my pink uniform. 

"But a hot bottle of Pepto-Bismol," he pointed out, making me laugh. 

"Just what every girl wants to hear," I told him as a customer came in. He was older, needed a shave, and was likely a truck driver just passing through. I greeted him and told him to grab a table. 

"Sounds good," He muttered and stumbled to a booth. Ugh, I hated the drunk ones. Dallas offered me a cigarette, but I declined and promised to continue our discussion of attractive over the counter meds later. 

"How are you tonight, sir?" I asked our tipsy guest. 

"Good...now," he ground the words out. No Greaser would ever be able to live up to the slimy feeling this sleaze managed to give me as he looked me over. It made me wish our uniforms were a little longer and sent a shiver down my spine. Looking around, I became increasingly aware that the Dingo was only hosting a couple sitting in the corner and Dallas. Rufus in the kitchen and I were the only workers.

"Great, what can I get you?" I proceeded and answered questions he had about the menu that were too simple to be anything but a reason to keep me in front of him.

"Say, how old are you," he questioned, cutting me off as I told him our soup specials.

"Sixteen," I lied. I always said I was sixteen when I forgot to put on the cheap little ring one of the other waitresses kept under the cash register. You were either underaged or married when old men tried to pick you up. It didn't always work, but sometimes it did the trick. The man nodded slowly.

"Shame," He grunted.

"Look, do you have an idea of what you'd want," I asked again. We'd now been talking long enough that even Dallas was monitoring.

"Truthfully pretty girl, all I want is you," he told me, reaching out and stroking my thigh.

"Please don't touch me," I stuttered as he stood. He reached out again to tuck my hair behind my ear, but I smacked his hand.

"Hey," Dallas yelled and stomped his way over.

"Just making small talk with the little lady," the man slurred. Everything happened so quickly. The sleazy old man pulled me to him by the waist. There was no hesitation between Dallas finally reaching us and the swing of his fist that sent the slimy mongrel to the floor. I hate to admit it, but I did let out a yelp of surprise but also pain when the man landed on my foot. 

"Don't fucking put your hands on her," Dallas threatened.

"Hey!" Rufus yelled from the kitchen. Rufus was as protective of the waitresses as anyone. Still, he was known for throwing out Greasers at the slightest hint of trouble. I turned to Dallas in surprise. Dallas moved towards the man again, but I stood in front of him, putting my hands on his chest. 

"You have to go," I told Dallas, pushing him towards the door as Rufus came around the back. "I don't want you getting in trouble." 

When my shift ended half an hour later, I was surprised to see Dallas smoking up against Buck's T-Bird. It wasn't an unusual sight to behold. Every now and again, Buck would lend Dallas the T-Bird and not so subtly suggest that Dallas practice being a good samaritan by picking me up from work. 

"So do you just go around punching men twice your age, or was that just for me?" I pulled out my own cigarette, and, as a gentleman, Dallas was right there to light it for me. 

"I just really like Pepto-Bismol," he shrugged.

We headed towards my house, and I let the shifting patterns of the street lights calm me a little. I told Dallas I wouldn't be much fun to do anything but go home. He told me to stop calling him Dallas and start saying 'Dally' instead, and that he had every intention of just getting me back. We were washed in red light at the stoplight, so I figured it was a good time to ask, 

"How's Sylvia?"

"I wouldn't know. That broad is," Dallas took a long drag and shook his head, "She's no good. Had to drop her." 

"And when was this," I asked while reaching up and pulling my hair out of its ponytail. 

"I don't know, two weeks ago, or something like that."

"You don't sound too heartbroken." 

"Why would I be? If I was looking for a broad to two times me every second of every day, she'd be the one," he scoffed. "What about that soc you were caught up with?"

"It was one date. He hasn't been in school for a bit, so I haven't gotten a chance to see him much," I said with a shrug. 

"You really like trash like that? The madras get you going?" 

"Hey now," I laughed. "He's kind of charming. I figured I would give him a chance."

"And?"

"And I think leather jackets are a little bit cooler," I told him, smirking. Red turned to green, and we quietly moved forward. Dallas spoke up first. 

"You know there's a rodeo Saturday."

"I've heard." I nodded.

"You should stop by," he invited me casually. 

"Oh yeah?" 

I leaned back in my seat in thought and decided to ignore that he was about to pass the right turn onto my street for the second time.

"I'm riding. Doing a couple things actually," Dallas told me between incessant throat clearing. We pulled up to a stop near the lot where the roads were dead and turned to me. "So?"

"Of course," I nodded. Dallas pulled out a cigarette carton and offered me one. I shook my head but watched him light it. It was too close to bedtime for one of those. I did catch a look at his hand in the street light. "Geez, Dally," I started. 

"What," He asked with his first drag, and I grabbed his hand. It was already starting to bruise. "Oh, that's nothin, sweetheart."

"I suppose this is small-time stuff for a tough guy like you." 

I smiled softly and skimmed my fingertips over his lavender and red knuckles. With both hands holding his, I brought it up to my lips and kissed gently. "Thank you,"

"Don't mention it." 

His voice was the kind of raspy that could get a girl in trouble. Car headlights started coming closer from behind us. I turned forward, still holding his hand until it moved back to the steering wheel. It didn't take long before it found its way to my bare knee with my hand on placed softly on top. It was short-lived, though. I didn't live that far from The Dingo, after all. The porch light was on, and I knew my mom was by the window.

"Alright, I'll be there Saturday," I promised while unbuckling my seatbelt.

"Good, and we can do something after," He proposed, and I nodded.

"I'd really like that," I agreed. I kissed Dallas's hand again and slid out of the car. Who knew I'd be so excited to get involved with a Greaser?

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, November 9

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

Cover: Duchess Kate sets the record straight on Prince Harry and Meghan Markle 

Page 2: Ben Affleck is wasting away and friends fear he’s taking his new health regimen too far as the six-foot-four star usually weighs 208 pounds but has shriveled to a spindly 165 -- a nutritionist put him on a sensible meal plan but he’s altered it with his own fantastical ideas such as he won’t go near bread and he’s ditched pasta and he’ll eat cantaloupe and blueberries one day and nuts and seeds the next and he’ll only drink boiled water and green tea for 24 hours then break his fast with a small bowl of quinoa -- instead of pumping iron he does exercises using his own body weight like ten-minute planks -- Ben thinks he looks great but his pals fear he’s traded one addiction for another

Page 3: Love-hungry Katie Holmes is thrilled to have a new man in her life but she’s breaking the bank to keep him happy because Katie is picking up the tab wherever she goes with Emilio Vitolo Jr. because it helps her feel she’s in full control of the relationship but Emilio may be taking advantage of Katie’s generosity because Katie has been showering him with designer clothes and jewelry and even paying for a personal trainer to whip him into shape -- Katie enjoys giving her guy things he can appreciate because he’s made her so happy but she may go broke doing it and it’s not like he doesn’t have any money; he’s worth a cool $1.5 million himself

Page 4: CNN rocked by sex scandal -- Jeffrey Toobin’s sleazy sex scandal has rocked CNN but it’s just the latest in a string of scandals at the network 

Page 5: Axed Fox News anchor Ed Henry fought back against his co-worker’s rape charges in a blockbuster lawsuit by handing the court explicit selfies and texts in an attempt to prove their tryst was consensual 

Page 6: Ryan Seacrest is downplaying his latest shocking absence from Live with Kelly and Ryan but the TV dynamo is battling a mystery illness that may force him to sign off for good -- the co-host who is a well known as a workaholic skipped out on the daytime show for the third time this year and used the coronavirus pandemic as his excuse -- Ryan was suffering badly from flu-like symptoms on the weekend before his absences but came back negative for coronavirus however doctors remain baffled by Ryan’s ongoing battles with exhaustion and weight loss and stroke-like symptoms, disgraced perv Bill Cosby’s latest mug shot shows he’s a shriveled shadow of his former self and the fallen funnyman flashed a maniacal grin while refusing to look into the camera in the picture snapped behind bars in September and he’s unshaven and his hair is ratty

Page 7: Lizzo has embarked on a radical vegan diet and extreme exercise program to save her life -- doctor warned the 350-pound singer that her daily intake of 5000 calories a day was a dangerous path to self-destruction and she needed to change her life or lose it and Lizzo finally got the message and is committed to this program but it’s been a living hell for her 

Page 8: After surviving a fiery crash at the Daytona 500 NASCAR hero Ryan Newman is locked in an ugly $50 million divorce showdown with his estranged wife -- Ryan and Kristina Newman split in 2019 after she was caught having an affair with another man and paying her love $450,000 and now Ryan’s lawyers are trying to freeze Kristina who was once referred to as the First Lady of NASCAR out of his fortune -- court papers reveal the two split in July 2019 when Kristina went to live with her boyfriend U.S. Army Captain Joe Schwankhaus who is the Chief Operations Officer of Kristina’s company VRX USA 

Page 9: Ellen DeGeneres debuted a high-flying pompadour hairstyle on her new talk show but the makeover still doesn’t get to the root of her recent problems and although her hair may be rising her show’s ratings are falling 

Page 10: Hot Shots -- pregnant Kelly Rowland, Andy Cohen took his son Benjamin for a stroll in NYC, Will Smith held court in L.A. while shooting King Richard a biopic about the dad of tennis greats Venus Williams and Serena Williams, Angela Bassett caught a drive-in screening of One Night in Miami in L.A. 

Page 11: Grieving Lisa Marie Presley has broken her silence over the suicide of her beloved only son Benjamin Keough saying her heart and soul went with him sharing her heartbreak on what would have been Ben’s 28th birthday and she added she’s dedicating herself to raising Ben’s twin half-sisters and actress sister Riley Keough, Chaka Khan refuses to duo with Ariana Grande again saying she’s not gonna do a song with no heifer -- Chaka and Ariana worked together in 2019 for the Charlie’s Angels soundtrack

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- DWTS pro Emma Slater kept a handle on her coffee while steering her e-bike (picture), it pays to be Brad Pitt’s girlfriend as his new squeeze Nicole Poturalski has doubled her modeling fees, dancing siblings Derek Hough and Julianne Hough are out of step over her sloppy personal life and his hot new judging career because these two were supposed to be the next Donny and Marie Osmond but his solo career is exploding while hers is falling apart, Madonna has always been a big believer in astrology but now she won’t even meet with people if it’s not written in the stars and she’s spending a fortune to have an army of people read her charts 

Page 13: Losing his beloved son to cancer has sparked new fears for fragile Robert Redford because Robert has struggled with his own health over the years and losing his son to bile-duct cancer is extremely worrying; he’s already frail and this has friends fearing the worst, Jeff Bridges is confident he’ll win his battle with lymphoma by coupling medical care with a strict vegan diet and chanting and spiritual healing techniques

Page 14: Convicted wife killer Scott Peterson may soon walk out of prison and grisly photos lawyers say could set him free -- following years of appeals California’s Supreme Court overturned Scott’s death penalty and now another appeal is forcing a lower court to reexamine his conviction for murdering seven months pregnant wife Laci Peterson and their unborn son Conner -- if Scott gets a retrial his legal team will be allowed to introduce new evidence including crime scene pictures that Scott’s former defense attorney said suggests Laci’s disappearance was an abduction by a satanic cult 

Page 15: Former child star Zachery Ty Bryan of Home Improvement was jailed overnight and released on $8500 bail following his bust for a fight with a galpal at an apartment complex in Eugene in Oregon -- the drama comes on the heels of Zachery’s split from wife Carly Matros the mom of his four kids

Page 16: Ryan Reynolds can’t wait to film a new rom-com with close pal Sandra Bullock but it’s causing tension with wife Blake Lively even though Blake trusts Ryan and would never forbid him from taking this part but the idea of him getting cozy with Sandra again still makes her uneasy -- now Ryan and Sandra are signed up to do The Lost City of D and despite Sandra’s denials they ever had a romance Ryan is gushing about them getting back together 

Page 17: Isolated and overlooked Today show host Hoda Kotb is being bullied off the morning show because of tepid ratings and the absence of former sidekick Kathie Lee Gifford and Mean Girls treatment by co-hosts Savannah Guthrie and Jenna Bush Hager have pushed the disillusioned anchor closer to the door -- Hoda recently filled out paperwork to adopt a third child and she’s clearly putting more emphasis on family than her career and it sends the signal she isn’t happy with her role and is not thinking of Today as her top priority, trainwreck Matthew Perry is holed up in his new Pacific Palisades beach pad  pounding out an explosive tell-all and his former Friends are quaking about what secrets he may reveal -- Matthew wants to rush the book out while interest in the Friends reunion special which was postponed by the COVID-19 pandemic remains high -- he knows an uncensored account of his time on Friends and his drug issues would be a bestseller and he intends to blow the lid off his on-set romances and address rumors he and Jennifer Aniston were more than friends 

Page 18: American Life -- her tall tale: I have the longest legs in the world 

Page 19: Jessica Simpson has been flaunting her body after dumping a shocking 100 pounds but buddies worry the drastic drop in size isn’t natural and suspect she’s been taking diet pills again and they’re worried this could escalate into a big issue

Page 20: Devastated Reese Witherspoon was hit with a depressing double whammy -- the death of her dog Pepper from cancer and the delay of her long-awaited sequel Legally Blonde 3, Hollywood Hookups -- John Cena and Shay Shariatzadeh wed, Ashley Hebert and J.P. Rosenbaum split, Cardi B and Offset on again

Page 21: Bruce Willis is back in another Die Hard but this time it’s a commercial for Advance Auto Parts and Die Hard batteries and it’s a clear statement on the state of his career that Bruce has to revisit his amazing past to make a fast buck in the present, Giada De Laurentiis has been given the green light to get married by her 12-year-old daughter Jade -- Giada has dated TV producer Shane Farley for five years and he’s been living with mother and daughter for five months during the pandemic lockdown which gave Jade a firsthand look at what it would be like to have a new daddy and Shane’s passed the test with flying colors 

Page 22: Cover Story -- Prince William’s heartsick wife Kate Middleton is breaking her silence about the royal family’s tumultuous bitter break with Prince Harry and Meghan Markle to set the record straight and save Britain’s monarchy and she’s tired of all the rumors and lies and backbiting and after all the drama and negativity she wants to get the truth out there and end this unprecedented crisis that’s endangering the monarchy’s survival -- friends are trying to convince Kate to do an official sit-down TV interview about what really happened between once-inseparable William and Harry and how Harry and Meghan tore the family apart even before they moved to America but Kate is resisting because she fears that could backfire like Princess Diana’s TV tell-all about her marriage to Prince Charles 25 years ago -- Kate had to turn the other cheek often after Meghan joined the family and she offered to help Meghan adjust to royal life from the start but Meghan rebuffed her and Kate in tired of Meghan painting her as the bad guy especially when it was Meghan’s antics that tore the family apart -- Kate also is upset that Harry and Meghan are portraying themselves as victims of a world that’s against them while she and William take on a phenomenal workload to cover the responsibilities the Sussexes left and losing precious time with their own three children and it’s hard not to be bitter but Kate is trying to take the high road and forgive Meghan and move forward

Page 26: With their marriage hanging by a thread Tori Spelling fears Dean McDermott will cheat on her again while filming a new TV show in Canada for six months; Tori wanted to bring their 5 children to Canada with him but Dean put her off saying it would be too distracting -- she’s been a jittery mess and he can’t stand to look at her and he only took this job because they need the money, Melanie Griffith is frustrated with Chris Martin and wants him to put a ring on her daughter Dakota Johnson’s finger -- the couple have been dating since 2017 and Melanie’s fed up with waiting for Chris to pop the question -- Melanie began to lose her patience after the couple reunited following a split last June when Chris won Dakota back with promises to settle down 

Page 28: COVID Vaccines: What you need to know

Page 32: Miley Cyrus claimed she once spotted a spaceship over Hollywood and even locked eyes with an alien but she also admits she’d bought weed wax from a guy in a van in front of a taco shop, whiny Kris Jenner is blaming social media for killing off Keeping Up with the Kardashians after it helped the reality TV clan make a mint

Page 34: Ozzy Osbourne is terrified a doll has cursed him -- Ozzy told son Jack Osbourne on their Osbournes Want to Believe show that Robert the doll was responsible for his recent bad luck and failing health, Tom Cruise and his Mission: Impossible 7 team caused chaos at an Italian hospital by filming there during the COVID-19 pandemic -- Tom and his crew including 100 security staffers plus trucks and other equipment descended on the Policlinico Umberto I in Rome for a week and legions of fans also flocked to the filming creating even more commotion in the streets outside the hospital and adding to the bedlam the production commandeered an elevator drawing criticism as hospital staff were treating 140 coronavirus patients with 12 in intensive care -- filming was done in an administrative section of the hospital but still sparked an official protest as well as complaints from trade union members

Page 36: Health Watch 

Page 38: Superhero screen pals of Chris Pratt rushed to rescue the actor’s reputation after he was mercilessly dragged into a silly social media meme when a Twitter user posted pictures of Chris Pratt and Chris Pine and Chris Hemsworth and Chris Evans captioned with the instruction one has to go but a flood of responses slammed Pratt as the worst Chris causing his Marvel co-stars to prop him up such as Zoe Saldana and Robert Downey Jr. and Mark Ruffalo and Jeremy Renner and Guardians of the Galaxy director James Gunn and Chris Pratt’s wife Katherine Schwarzenegger also bashed the social media bullies, Matthew McConaughey kept saying alright alright alright to making romantic comedies until the day he was so fed up he turned down $14.5 million to do another one -- Matthew revealed in his memoir that he didn’t mind making a string of mindless rom-coms because their paychecks rented the houses on the beach he ran shirtless on but he eventually wanted to try something else so he turned down a big payday so he could get more serious 

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Drew Barrymore 

Page 47: Odd List

[writeyouin]

Connor X Reader - Do You Dream? Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – Defying Expectations 

A/N – Somewhat of a short chapter, but I’m finally pleased with where this story is going.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

It wasn’t long till Gavin came to pick you up from the park but every second spent in silence with Connor dragged painfully on, laden with anger and sadness. You squinted as Gavin’s rusted Buick headlights fell over you. Gavin got out, grinning smugly at the pair of you.

“Bye,” You said sullenly to Connor, not sure what else to say in lieu of the previous events.

“(Y/N), wait,” Connor said, reaching out for your wrist before he thought better of it and held himself back. “You don’t have to do this…”

You shook your head, frowning morosely, “I just- I can’t be around you right now.”

“What are you two ladies talking about?” Gavin asked cockily, swaggering over.

“Just give me a minute, Gavin.”

Connor stepped in front of you, whispering quickly, “You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll find a place temporarily and you can stay with Hank. Just please, don’t go with him.”

“Connor, don’t make this harder than it has to be. I’ve made up my mind. I’ll… I’ll see you at work. You coming, Gavin?” You asked, upon going over to the Buick.

“Sure, sure, just give me a sec.” Gavin approached Connor with a wicked grin, talking in a hushed tone so you wouldn’t hear, “Thanks for giving (Y/N) to me, plastic. This’ll just give me time to work on her. I hope you’ll think of us two rolling under the covers while you’re left alone, worthless and broken.”

Connor grabbed Gavin’s arm, speaking through gritted teeth, “You better take care of her. If anything happens- If anyone hurts so much as one hair on her head, I will personally see to it that you suffer.”

“If anyone hurts her? From what I’m seeing here, it’s you who hurt her.” Gavin yanked his arm back, “I’ll do a damn better job than you at taking care of her. Plastic prick.”

After that vicious exchange, Gavin left Connor standing alone in the park as he got back into his car and drove you towards his apartment.

Gavin thought he was being reasonable. He had let you spend the twenty-minute drive to his place in silence. Now, he wanted the answers he was due.

“Alright, what happened with the plastic?”

“Don’t call him that,” You reprimanded glumly, lacking any of your usual fire.

“Cut the shit (Y/N). Just tell me what happened, then you can go inside, get the VIP tour, and I’ll leave you alone for the night.”

“I don’t know, Gavin. Things just got complicated.”

“With the plastic or the drunk?”

“Please, don’t talk about my friends like that.”

Gavin rolled his eyes and got out of the car, surprising you slightly when he opened the door on your side. “Fine, whatever. You won’t answer my questions about them, at least tell me why you called me up to stay at my place.”

“Who else am I gonna stay with, Gavin? You’re working the case with me, you don’t live with anyone that could be endangered by the Flayer, and since I have to stay with a cop… Shit, who else am I gonna stay with? Captain Fowler?”

Gavin snickered, leading you into the apartment block and up the stairs, “It’d be one hell of a slumber party, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, Fowler could braid my hair while we talk shop.”

On the first floor, Gavin unlocked the second door, letting you in to what you expected would be a dingy apartment. Once again, you were surprised to find a neat living room with plush brown carpets, several family photos, and a generally warm vibe.

He walked you down the narrow hall, pointing out rooms, “Kitchen. Bathroom. My room. And that’s the magical mystery tour. That’ll be ten bucks.”

“Sorry, I’m short of change. I could give you a sucker punch instead.”

“Phuck off.”

You heard a light mewling behind you and turned to find a Sphynx cat sniffing at your heels. “Never figured you for a cat guy.”

“Her name’s Meatball.”

“Who turned her inside out?”

Gavin petted Meatball under the chin, “Don’t listen to the crazy bitch, Meatball. It’s a bold fashion statement.”

“Any more pets hanging around, or just the reject gremlin?”

“First off, she’s not a gremlin, she’s my sidekick. Second, Cagney and Lacey are around here somewhere, probably hiding from the bitch who keeps insulting my girl here.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” You nodded along, finding your first real smile of the night. It seemed that you had Gavin all wrong. Maybe at work he was an ass who used insults to look tough, but perhaps he wasn’t so bad after all.

“So… You don’t have any of your things with you.”

You tucked your hair behind you ear, avoiding Gavin’s gaze, “No. I left it all at Hank’s place.”

“I’ll get your shit together tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

“In the meantime, I got an old hockey jersey you can wear. You know. If you want to. And I know it’s late so if you go into my room, you’ll find it, second drawer in the dresser. I’ll set up the sofa bed.”

You nodded and made your way into Gavin’s bedroom. Previously, you had imagined Gavin living in some kind of seedy Quentin Tarantino set. Instead, you found a fairly regular room. The most elaborate thing it held was a dart board which you were unimpressed to find pictures of androids on. Hastily, you tore the pictures off, throwing them into the bin in the corner. Just because he wasn’t as bad as you’d thought, you wouldn’t accept any form of xenophobia from Gavin. All the same, it was too late for an argument with your host, so you got changed into the way oversized jersey; it was far too big even for Gavin and you couldn’t help thinking that he probably saved it for those tiny women he fetishized.

Folding up your day clothes, you wandered into the living room, expecting some kind of sleazy comment about the jersey that only fell down to your knees. Instead, Gavin had set up the sofa-bed where he was perched gingerly on the edge. Upon your re-entry into the living room, he stood up giving you a cursory nod.

“Hey, so uh- I tend to wake up late. You can get whatever you want from the fridge. There’s a lock on the bathroom door. The front has the best damn security I can afford, and uh-” He put his hand on your shoulder, “We’ll catch this fucker, (Y/N). Then you can live your normal life and shit.”

Gavin left you after that and just before he entered his bedroom you saw two Bengal cats run from under the sofa bed after him.

“The elusive Cagney and Lacey,” You mumbled to yourself. Then, looking at the sphinx cat on top of your pillow, you added, “So, you’re staying with me, Meatball?”

Meatball purred enthusiastically as you stroked her head, only arguing slightly when you shifted her from the pillow to the blanket.

“Sorry girl, you gotta share.”

As you slipped into the bed and tried to get to sleep, you wondered why Gavin bothered to act so awfully in work. You wanted to find out who was the real him, and you hoped it was the version you had seen since he took you to his apartment. Maybe there was a chance the two of you could be friends after all.

Two weeks into living with Gavin and he had defied all of your expectations. Late into the evening as the two of you sat pouring over the most recent victim of the Fornication Flayer, you had to ask the question that had been on your mind since you first crashed on his sofa.

“Why aren’t you like this at work?”

“Hm? (Y/N), I’m always this good looking. You just haven’t noticed.”

“Come on Gavin. You’ve been nothing but nice to me for two weeks. No flirty comments, nothing mean to say about my friends, working from home to reduce any risk to me, making sure to get everything from Hank’s. I don’t get it. Why do you act so rough at work?”

Gavin grabbed his empty coffee mug for something to do that would allow him to avoid the question. “You want another coffee?”

At Gavin’s evasion, you decided not to press the matter. You guessed that he was just insecure in himself and used toxic masculine bullshit as a way to hide his true self. “Alright. I get it. You don’t want to go into it, but at least tell me what your damage is with Connor. He’s not a bad guy, y’know.”

“Just coffee for me then. Got it.”

“Come on, Gavin. Is it all androids, or just him?”

“Hey, what do you want from me? I just don’t like the prick. Besides, it’s fun to wind him up by toying with the things he likes.”

Although you didn’t like the insinuation that Gavin knew Connor had a crush on you before you did, you let it slide. At least he’d only called Connor a ‘prick’ instead of a ‘plastic’; that showed real improvement on Gavin’s behalf. With a bit more work and encouragement, you were sure you could change his opinions on androids, if not Connor himself.

“Ugh,” Gavin sneered. “We’re outta milk. You wanna come to the store with me?”

You appreciated it whenever Gavin asked you that. Since the store was only across the street, he allowed you the choice of staying in the apartment or going with him whenever he had to grab something. It was a privilege that Hank and Connor hadn’t allowed under their constant surveillance routine.

“You go. I could use a few minutes on my own.”

“Right, so you can throw that big surprise party to thank me for being awesome,” he snickered.

“Excuse you? This party is for Meatball, who is indeed not an inside out gremlin, but a big sweetheart who keeps your other two monsters in line.”

“Pfft. Whatever loser. Keep the door locked and don’t talk to strangers.”

“Okay, mom.”

“Don’t you speak to your mother in that tone, young lady. Go to your room.”

“I don’t have a room.”

“That’s right. And you won’t get one until you learn to appreciate your mother!”

With that playful exchange over, Gavin left, locking the door behind him. You stared at your datapad, flicking through case files and the analysis of the latest victim. It was horrifying to stare at yet another corpse of someone who looked just like you, but you did it anyway, trying to find anything from a stray hair or a boot print that might lead the DPD find the murderer.

There was a crash in Gavin’s bedroom and you groaned at the sound of hissing cats. “I swear, if that’s Cagney and Lacey again, you’re grounded for life cats.”

Sure enough, it was Cagney and Lacey, hissing at poor Meatball who had scrambled onto Gavin’s dresser, smashing the lamp in the process.

“Oh man… Why do you two bully this hairless freak so much? Don’t worry, Meatball. It was an accident. Just a case of lamp slaughter. We’ll get you the best damn jury Detroit has to offer.”

A knock at the door startled you and you stood in utter silence, feeling your heart pound against your chest.

“(Y/N), open he phucking door,” Gavin’s unmistakable voice called. “I dropped my keys down the damn drain.”

You shook your head, muttering under your breath, “How in the world is this idiot not dead?”

Upon opening the door, you only had a few seconds to take everything in. There was a man at least three feet taller than you wearing a tuxedo and a full venetian mask to hide his face. A voice modulator sat cosily on his throat and when he spoke again, he still sounded unpleasantly like Gavin.

“How very nice to meet you in person, detective.”

There was no time to run, fight, or even slam the door in his face as the Fornication Flayer pulled a syringe from behind his back and plunged it into your neck.

“There, there now. We’re going for a little ride. How does that sound?”

Unconscious in the Flayer’s arms, you couldn’t respond. Your only hope was that someone might spot you and come to your aid. If not, you would most certainly be the next victim that the DPD investigated.

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[dweemeister]

The Princess and the Pirate (1944)

Bob Hope’s mastery of quickfire one-liners and self-deprecation endeared him to American audiences listening to him over the radio or watching him in films. Those skills made him the ideal Academy Awards host (Hope still has the record hosting the most ceremonies) and frequent entertainer for the United Service Organizations (USO). By the 1940s as a contracted actor to Paramount, Hope starred in the Road to... musical comedy series with Bing Crosby and Dorothy Lamour. Their comedic chemistry made the films runaway hits. Road to Morocco (1942) represented the series pinnacle, but Paramount wanted to move on – loaning Hope out to Samuel Goldwyn Productions (at this time affiliated with RKO Radio Pictures as distributor) for two films in exchange for Gary Cooper’s services to make For Whom the Bell Tolls (1943).

The first Bob Hope movie with Goldwyn, They Got Me Covered (1943), made little impression. For the second film, Goldwyn lavished an A-picture budget for Hope, Virginia Mayo (an unofficial member of the Goldwyn Girls), and director David Butler. As a detour from the Road to... series, The Princess and the Pirate is filled with fourth wall-breaking references that make it impossible to recommend for anyone who has never seen a Bob Hope movie from this era. With that qualifier in mind, The Princess and the Pirate is an offbeat comedy that Hope’s fans and admirers will enjoy, though it is certainly not his finest work in motion pictures.

We open with the title screens describing a ruthless pirate named Hook. Immediately, Bob Hope breaks the fourth wall to tell the audience: “That’s not me folks, I come on later. I play a coward!” Hook (Victor McLaglen), who – shockingly – has a hook hand, has just buried a valuable treasure on a desert island when he orders an attack on a naval ship. With his buccaneers of the Avenger swindling the booty, Hook’s crew also kidnap the Princess Margaret (Mayo), who has run away from home in defiance of her father, the King (Robert Warwick), as she wanted to marry a commoner. Hook’s crew also accosts an actor, Sylvester the Great (Hope), who sleeps in the cabin across from the Princess. Sylvester escapes abduction by disguising himself as a gypsy. The Avenger’s eccentric tattooist, Featherhead (Walter Brennan), finds the disguised Sylvester attractive. Featherhead helps Sylvester and Princess Margaret escape, directing them to see find his cousin somewhere on the pirate cove named Casarouge.

Also featured in The Princess and the Pirate are the Governor of Casarouge, La Roche (Walter Slezak); Hook’s first mate, Pedro (Marc Lawrence); Hugo Haas as an ethically challenged barkeep; and a film-ending cameo that makes a ruffled Hope exclaim that this will be the last picture he makes for Goldwyn (it was).

In these days where memories of Bob Hope’s radio and USO work are waning, his wise-guy humor might not be as funny to some viewers. Without question, his comedic timing and delivery is as refined as anyone’s. Director David Butler even admitted that Hope himself did not need much direction with the screenplay by Everett Freeman (1942’s George Washington Slept Here, 1951’s Jim Thorpe – All-American); Don Hartman (1935’s The Gay Deception, Road to Morocco); and Melville Shavelson (1958’s Houseboat, 1959’s The Five Pennies. But Hope’s signature jokes about one’s own shortcomings and metatextual jabs over the ways the Hollywood Studio System worked are not sustainable for a feature film unless there is support from elsewhere in the movie.

The Princess and the Pirate does not have the broad humor one sees in the Road to… series. Instead, the film’s comedy – which still possesses Hope’s comedic hallmarks – is interwoven into the plot. On another level, The Princess and the Pirate is a swashbuckler parody that provide its supporting characters (namely, the antagonists) with more antics and jokes than the typical Bob Hope comedy. The swashbuckler genre was overdue for a parody by this point, as the genre had been popular since the silent era – The Crimson Pirate (1952) and The Court Jester (1955) would come later. As Hook, Victor McLaglen’s energetic performance – his threats to slit Sylvester’s gizzard or gullet enliven the intentionally hackneyed writing – is a joy to watch. McLaglen, a character actor often found in gritty, hypermasculine roles, looks like he is having the time of his life in this film. So too is an unhinged Walter Brennan, who had the distinction (fortunate or unfortunate depending on how one views it) of looking much older than he was. Brennan’s tattooist must have been the film censors’ worst nightmare – a slightly queer and lusty pirate. And in a role where he is more than just an old Western coot playing alongside a John Wayne or Gary Cooper, he gets to be more cartoonish than in any other performance I’ve seen him in. For The Princess and the Pirate, McLaglen and Brennan’s complement those of Hope and Mayo’s.

For Mayo, The Princess and the Pirate was her first starring role. Though she participated in singing classes with the Goldwyn Girls, Mayo herself never joined the company. Yet, she was a breakthrough star in her own right. As the film’s no-nonsense, strait-laced foil to Hope, Mayo plays off Hope’s comedic chops, but her character resists Sylvester’s raised eyebrows and naughty suggestions. That Hope and Mayo have no romantic spark subverts swashbuckler tropes, as the dynamic between their characters can best be described as friendly bickering. In Princess Margaret’s exasperation as pirates board their ship, their comedic dynamic sets the tone for the rest of the film:

PRINCESS MARGARET: Why don’t you die like a man? SYLVESTER: Because I’d rather live like a woman!

Costume designer Mary Grant (1957’s Sweet Smell of Success) gowns see Mayo go through various wardrobe changes – just how many dresses does she have on her person? – in the film’s splendid Technicolor. The remarkable production design by Ernst Fegté (1943’s Five Graves to Cairo, 1950’s Destination Moon) and Howard Bristol (1940’s Rebecca, 1959’s Anatomy of a Murder) not only encompasses the ships, but the Casarouge exteriors and La Roche’s palatial residence. The Casarouge art direction – ramshackle wooden buildings, portside materials strewn haphazardly across the docks – help make it believable as a sleazy den of inebriated, trigger-happy scalawags. As the final act transitions to La Roche’s governor’s mansion with its high ceilings, ornate furniture, and gleaming floors, the sets look like they came from some lavish musical. Despite some indifferent camerawork (as one often finds in comedies), The Princess and the Pirate’s backgrounds are always fascinating to look at. Filled with so much detail, the film almost escapes the restrictions of the soundstage that almost all of it was shot in.

According to Hope, he enjoyed making The Princess and the Pirate and his character’s ability to don various costumes to evade the villains (which reminded him of his vaudeville beginnings). But Hope’s loan to Samuel Goldwyn had expired – actors and actresses in the Old Hollywood Studio System had little leverage to oppose loan deals written up by studio executives – and he was ready to return to Paramount. With World War II raging in two theaters, he would continue to entertain American troops on various USO tours. Virginia Mayo remained with Goldwyn until 1949. With her ascension to being a leading actress, she starred in a handful of comedies opposite Danny Kaye and was cast against type in her brilliant performance for William Wyler’s The Best Years of Our Lives (1946).

Though The Princess and the Pirate might not be the most memorable (or funniest) film its two leads starred in, it is a welcome swashbuckling comedy that defies the swashbuckling stereotypes that one comes to expect. Entertaining though it is, several references are rooted in an assumption that one knows about Bob Hope’s filmography, Samuel Goldwyn’s reputation, and other period-specific media. Feeling more like an animated short film stretched longer than it should, the movie should only be seen by those who have an interest in the cast and crew involved with the production.

My rating: 7/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

[darling-clemmy]

A Feeling We Don’t Know//Clouis Highschool AU--Chapter One

A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of my highschool AU! I will try to update this regularly, and I hope you enjoy the first part :)) also huge thank you to @missdaisymayrio , without her I could not have written this. 

Summary of Story: After the first night, it seems impossible for them not to run into each other. Though, neither the boy with dreads nor the girl with curls can complain about that.

Summary of Chapter: Clementine had never liked parties--until she realized that some of them aren’t so bad, thanks to one dark haired boy.

Word Count: 3,670 words

CHAPTER ONE: PARTY FAVOR

The rain beat down against the overhanging glass of the bus stop, creating a repetitive pattern that was starting to get under Clementine’s skin. She’d much rather prefer to hear his cheery voice right now, speaking reassuring words into her ear, or the muted radio as they kiss in the backseat of his car. But that couldn’t happen now, or possibly ever again.

She pulled her oversized yellow raincoat closer to her body, although that would only relieve the shaking due to the cold, and not due to her silent cries. I’m so stupid, Clementine thought, forcing more tears out of her eyes. Yet, under the heavy rain, they were barely noticeable.

A car with blurry headlights zoomed past her, causing roadside rain water to splash up and hit her ankles. She was too numb to care about anything, much less a little bit more water on her already soaking clothes. Her head lifted at a realization—that car was playing their song. She could recognize that beat anywhere, having listened to it nonstop months ago. How silly it was to think that it held any meaning. She knew now that it was all a mistake. He was a big, heart shattering mistake.

Clementine checked her phone once more for whatever reason, as the same picture of a low battery came up again. She sighed, her entire being feeling so crumbled that it was useless to have any hope for herself anymore. So, with no other choices, she stood up from the cold bench, lifted her hood over her curls, and began stomping through the wet, cracked sidewalk back home, leaving him and all of their memories behind her.

—

7 MONTHS EARLIER:

Ding!

Clementine blinked in surprise as the bell signifying an order was ready rung. She removed her hand from beneath her chin and looked at the plate. 

One large blueberry pancake, four scrambled eggs, and six pieces of bacon with a coffee that might as well just have been milk. Kyle, Clementine guessed, rolling her eyes at the fact that she’d have to bring it out to him. 

Tightening the stained white apron that was tied around her waist, she picked up the chipped plate by its bottom and held the mug’s handle firmly. 

The diner was especially busy today, as it was every Saturday. Besides, Everett’s was the only place other than Bee Joe’s to get breakfast in the small town of Wareham, West Virginia. Because of this, probably around half the population came in between 7am and 2pm, consisting of young children with their mothers, a group of loud old men who split the check in eighths, and Clem’s own teachers at school, who, no matter how much they come in, were always surprised she works there. 

After maneuvering through the clustered tables and booths, she finally made it to the table marked “H,” where, of course, none other than Kyle was sat. 

“Here’s your food,” Clementine choked out through a forced toothy smile. “And your coffee. Do you need anything else today?”

Kyle slumped back in his chair as he eyed the food suspiciously, before returning his gaze back to her silently. 

At his uncomfortable stare, Clem cleared her throat and gripped the hem of her stupidly stiff baby pink uniform skirt.

“Nah, nothing that I can order off the menu, anyway,” he nearly slurred out, making Clementine wonder if he was already high or if he was just sleazy. 

“Okay, well, let me know if there is.” By now, she was smiling so tightly and fakely that it was beginning to hurt. Before he could get another word in, she spun on her heel and rushed back to safety behind the counter, away from the college boy.

Once there, where none of the customers could really see, she threw down the order notebook with a huff. Looking up at the red LED clock, she counted the minutes to when she’d be allowed to leave. 275 minutes. 16, 500 seconds. It’s a lot, but she hoped that maybe she’d be able to just wash tables until then. 

“Dumb day?” A southern-twanged voice asked from beside her. 

Clem sighed in relief that it was Brody, and not her supervisor scolding her for not being “sweet and accommodating,” as she’d always say.

“It wasn’t too bad until Eric, you know, the new cook guy, spilled bacon grease on the floor and I had to clean it up. And Kyle’s here and you know how he always is and of course I’m his waitress.” Clementine complained as she lowered her head in closer to Brody, like preteens gossiping. 

“Ugh, he shouldn’t even be allowed in here. He’s such a creep,” Brody agreed. “I had to wait on the Yorks and all eight of their kids, who all wanted chocolate chip pancakes in the shape of Disco Broccoli. Omar’s a good cook and all, but how is anyone supposed to do that?”

Clem chuckled thinking about Disco Broccoli and his Chive Talkin’ Friends. She was surprised kids still watched that show. “I think customers think we’re Gordon Ramsay.”

“Sorry, we’re actually just a bunch of 16 to 25 year olds and their 40-something year old manager.” The auburn hair girl replied, scribbling down her tipped wages. “On a lighter note, are you doing anything tonight?”

“Nope. AJ’s parents don’t need me to babysit tonight and my parents are both working late again.” She furrowed her eyebrows before continuing, “Why?”

“Marlon’s having a party tonight and I was wondering if you’d like to come!”

“Brody—“

“Shush, before you say ‘I’m not a party person, Brody,’ it’s not as big as his other ones. There will only be, like, 30 people there, at most.” Brody chastised, placing a hand on her hip.

“Why so small?”

“It’s for his best friend. He just got back from a music camp or something,” she explained. 

Clementine sighed, realizing that she and Brody had never really hung out outside of work before. They may not have been best friends, but Brody had always been there for her, so maybe she owed it to her to go to a party or two.  “Okay, I’ll go. At least for a little bit.”

“Really?” Brody squealed, making some customers’ eyes gather on the girls. “Thank you, Clem! I promise you’ll have fun.”

Clementine laughed, “Who’s his actual best friend anyway?”

“His name’s Louis. Has dreads, writes music and plays piano, his family lives in that really big house down on Charlotte Lane,” Brody described, hoping to jog Clem’s memory. 

Really, she didn’t need to. Everyone in Wareham knew Louis Hastings and his parents. With his high economic standing and the fact that he was a major social butterfly, everyone had talked to Louis at least once. He was well liked, too, so it was no surprise to Clem that a welcome home party was being thrown with him as the guest of honor. 

“Well, I’ll make sure I’m there,” Clem promised with a grin. 

The door opened and hit the ear-ringing bell above it. The girls looked over to it to see an old couple, dressed in button up shirts with matching patterns. 

“Oh, look, Mr and Mrs Carlton. I’ll go get them a table,” Brody recognized with fond smile, as the couple often came in for their usual English breakfast tea and raspberry scones. 

Clementine watched as Brody left her side behind the counter before returning her eyes to the clock that seemed to be ticking slower as it went on. 260 more minutes.

Might as well start washing those tables, Clem thought before grabbing the soapy bucket and the old rag and getting to work. 

—

“You really know how to make the guest of honor feel special, Marlon,” Louis criticized, shoving three more packs of red solo cups into the grocery cart that had an obnoxious squeaking wheel.

“Don’t be mad. You should be happy I’m bringing you along to shop for food, since you’re such a picky eater and all,” Marlon rolls his glacier colored eyes in response.

“I’m not a picky eater,” the dark haired boy began. “I am a refined one.”

“Chicken tenders and french fries are real refined, Lou.”

“Everyone likes chicken tenders and french fries.”

“Vegans don’t.”

“They make fake chicken tenders, you know,” Louis informed, scrunching up his nose at the sour cream and onion chips that Marlon threw in the cart. “Are you buying all of this?”

“I’m not that bad of a party host. You really think I’d make you buy your own party supplies?” Marlon asked incredulously. 

Before Louis could respond, he felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket. He could tell by the personalized pattern that it was his dad calling him. He frowned.

“Hey, Dad,” he greeted blandly. 

“Why aren’t you home yet?” The older man interrogated with a harsh tone.

“I’m out with Marlon,” Louis explained. “I’ll be back later tonight.”

“I can’t believe you sometimes, Louis. You really can’t even be bothered to have dinner with your parents after being away for two months?” His father questioned.

“Look, Dad, I—” Louis began, only to be cut off.

“Just don’t, Louis,” his dad interrupted harshly. “Just—if you have the time, text your mother. She’s missed you a lot.”

“Yeah, I will.” He already had two hours earlier.

His father gave no goodbyes before hanging up the phone, leaving Louis to listen to a dull humming.

“Is everything okay?” Marlon asked.

Louis remained silent as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“I know how tough your dad can be—“

“Do you still have your fake?”

Marlon’s eyes widened. “ID? Of course.”

At his words, Louis picks a large box of beer out of the cooler and slides it onto the bottom rack of the cart. 

“That’s the spirit, Lou!” Marlon hit Louis’ back roughly.

Louis chuckled, but still, the feeling of disappointment in himself remained in the pit of his stomach.

—

Clementine was late. 

Thankfully, not excruciatingly late. Not so late that it’d be rude to show up now. Just late by thirty minutes or so, since she had spent twenty more minutes than expected trying to figure out what to wear to her first party and another ten getting lost on the way there. 

But, still, she was late. And she hated being late. It was embarrassing.

She walked up the steep steps to Marlon’s front door, the newly setting sun casting her shadow down in front of her, surrounded by a yellow-gold. She was already gnawing on her bottom lip in anxiety, thinking about how lonely she may be here. Yet, Clem still knocks on the door before lowering her hand and wrapping it around her other wrist.

Marlon opened the door, a navy blue can in his hand. “Oh, hey, Clem. Brody said you’d be coming tonight.”

She grinned bashfully. “Yeah, she thought it’d be good for me to get out more.”

“Well, I can assure you that my parties are the best reason to do so,” Marlon boasted. “Come in. Brody’s in the kitchen.”

Before she could say another word, he’s shut the door behind them and ran off to speak to somebody else in his living room. Clementine huffed and raised her brows, analyzing the inside of the house, trying to find the kitchen.

In front of her in the entryway was a rack of coats, hung up high on the grey wall. Clem didn’t bring a jacket, as it was nearly 85 degrees out, so she moved past it and walked into the main area. To her left was Marlon’s living room, accompanied by a few boys she vaguely recognized from school drinking and playing some video game on the large flatscreen. Not wanting to have to talk to them, she quickly walked straight and into the kitchen. 

“You made it!” Brody jumped off from her seat on the granite counter and skipped over to the tan girl to hug her tightly. “I love your outfit.”

Clem looked down at her cuffed blue jeans and form-fitting rosy shirt. Although she was receiving a compliment, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, thanks. It only took a billion years to pick out.”

Brody grinned softly. “Let’s go out onto the patio! That’s where most everyone is.”

The slightly taller girl grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out through the sliding glass door and onto the rocky terrain of Marlon’s patio. To her right was a porch, which you could step up onto and enter an above ground pool. There were pretty, golden bulb lights strung across the entire backyard, glowing down on a little over a dozen teenagers. Music from a nearby speaker played loudly, as Marlon didn’t have any close-by neighbors that would file a complaint.

Brody dragged Clem up onto the porch and over to a few of their classmates who she recognized: Violet LaCasse, Sophie and Minerva Wilson, and Mitch Gray. She had never really talked to any of them, except Mitch once for chemistry homework. But she knew that Brody was really good friends with Sophie and Mitch (surprisingly) especially, so she stayed put.

“Hey, Clementine, right?” Minnie asked as Clem sat down on the metal chair, her arm loosely around Violet’s shoulders.

“That’s my name,” Clementine joked tight-lipped.

“You want a beer?” Mitch chimed in, already reaching for the cooler beneath them.

Clem’s amber eyes widened. “Ah, no, thank you. I’m driving back home tonight.”

Mitch shrugged. “If you wanna’ have real fun tonight, then you drink. I’ll drive you home after.” He gave a cheeky grin.

“You’ve already had three beers in the past 40 minutes, dumbass,” Violet objected, running her finger around the lid of her water bottle.

Clementine remained silent, her eyes furrowed together. Instead, she simply shook her head at his offer. As she looked to her left, she saw how Brody’s lips were set in a slight pout, her fingers wrapped tightly around themselves.

Once the auburn haired girl noticed Clem’s concerned stare, her expression did a complete 180, returning back to her usual welcoming grin. 

Sophie tugged on Brody’s sleeve. “Did Marlon say where Louis is?”

“You know, I don’t—“

As if on purpose, Marlon busted through the sliding glass door, his arm around a slightly shorter, darker skinned boy. A cuter boy, Clementine admired. Louis Hastings.

“Look who’s fuckin’ back and better than ever!” Marlon roared, clearly already tipsy, stumbling out onto the patio.

Practically everyone grinned and cheered, the screams of the teenagers echoing into the forest behind them. The rest of the boys who Clem saw inside also came outside, all thrilled to see their favorite friend back home. After a few minutes of the rowdy boys yelling and pushing each other, Marlon and Louis made their way up the porch steps and over to the table.

Marlon kissed the side of Brody’s head, her nearly flinching at the touch. “You smell like alcohol, babe.”

He kissed her again, despite her protests, as Mitch and Louis did that awkward side hug-back-hitting thing guys did. 

Louis’s eyes scanned the table, nodding a simple hey, good to see you again to the blonde and the twins before his tawny brown eyes met Clementine’s.

He knew her face from around school, but didn’t really know her too well since she was a grade below him and almost everyone else, except for Mitch. All he really knew her by was the fact that she won a state photography prize for their school last year and that she sometimes wore her hair in two cute pigtails tied with purple ribbons. And that she was pretty. Really pretty.

Louis held his hand out towards her across the table. “Why, hello. I’m Louis, to formally introduce ourselves.”

Clem’s cheekbones flushed vaguely before the corners of her mouth lifted up. “Clementine.”

“I’m glad you could make it. The more the merrier, right?” Louis preached. “Oh, wait, that sounds bad. Uh, nevermind.”

Clementine giggled softly, not caring about the slightly confused stares from the rest of the group.

“Alright, you two, stop flirting,” Marlon interjected, waving his hand around. “C’mon, Lou, let’s go talk to Luke.”

“Okay, okay,” Louis said, turning back to look at her. “See you all later.”

The group said their chorus of goodbyes to the two boys and watched as they walked down the wooden steps, Louis holding up Marlon so he doesn’t fall. Clem’s stare lingered on the boy with dreads, even after they walked across the yard to a group of boys kicking around a soccer ball. 

Brody leaned over the arm of her chair and whispered into Clem’s ear, “You’re welcome for inviting you.”

“Oh, quiet. He was just being nice,” she insisted, tucking a curl behind her ear.

“Whatever you say,” Brody sang.

--

Clementine stood awkwardly by the side of the house as she watched the rest of the party-goers dancing and talking. She wraps one of her hands around the opposite arm in an attempt to warm herself up. She wished she had brought a coat now, the early autumnal cold night air surrounding her in an aura of blue. When she lifted her head to look up at the stars, she hoped that the far away heat from them would transfer to her body. Sadly, it didn’t.

Since she was scuffing her white shoes against the ground, she didn’t notice the presence of a body next to her. She was too focused on an ant crawling through the caverns between bricks and a new dirt mark on the tip of her shoe that she accidentally ignored the kind boy.

He cleared his throat, alarming her and making her look up.

“Sorry,” she apologized flustered. “You were pretty quiet.”

“I don’t know if this will surprise you, but pretty much no one else has ever said that to me,” Louis told her, leaning against the tan house as well.

“Well, you did make quite the entrance,” Clementine complimented.

He shrugged. “Marlon and his alcohol made quite the entrance.”

“Right, right.”

“So, um,” Louis began. “I got you a drink.”

Clementine raises an eyebrow. “Why?” 

“I noticed you didn’t have one at the table. I can’t let a pretty girl go thirsty at my party,” Louis explained, his dark eyes twinkling like the stars above them.

She eyed the red cup suspiciously then gazed back at him. “You seem nice enough, Louis, I just don’t know if I wanna’ take a random drink from you.”

“What? I--Ohh!” Louis’ face dropped at what she was implying. “There isn’t anything--It’s just water with ice. I hope you like ice--Ah, okay, this is a really bad first impression.”

Clementine giggled and bit the inside of her lip. “Then, how about you make a good second impression?”

“Yes! Yeah, yeah,” Louis agreed. 

“Can you walk me to my car? No offense to your party, but I don’t really think I’m needed here.” Clementine joked, but her solemn undertone spoke a different narrative.

He smiled wordlessly and opened the glass door for her, following her once she stepped inside. They made their way through the simple layout of the bottom floor and to the front door. Louis once again held it open for her, and her heart felt warm for the first time tonight.

The walk down the long dirt driveway and to the main street that Clem had to park on was silent, since the two teenagers didn’t know anything to talk about and didn’t really mind the comforting quiet that was only filled with chirps of crickets and nearby music from the party. Once they reached Clem’s silver sedan, she paused in front of the driver side door.

“Well, this is me,” she announced, pulling her keychain out of her back pocket. “Thanks for the walk.”

“I’d feel too bad to let you walk down here alone in the dark,” he reasoned with his hands shoved into his jean pockets. “But, you know, I don’t know if our short walk made up for the whole four hours of the party where you looked miserable.”

“What? I was having fun. So much fun,” she promised dramatically, but at his incredulous stare she gave in. “Yeah, fine, it kind of sucked for me.”

Louis sported a small grin. “And I take no offense to that. Besides, I didn’t really throw it.”

“Even if you did, it’s not like my opinion on it really matters. Everyone else looked to be having fun,” she responded.

“Your opinion matters to me.”

Her lips went into a confused pout. “We just met.”

“So? You still matter, and I still feel kinda’ bad that you were dragged here,” Louis empathized with soft eyes.

Clem sighed. “Can you still say thank you to Brody for me? And make sure she gets home safe? I know she doesn’t drink it’s just….”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he assured, opening the car door for her. He cleared his throat. “Have a nice night, Clementine.”

She smiled and slipped into the car, closing the door after her, but her window remained open. “You too, Louis. Welcome home.”

“Yeah, you too,” Louis said before realizing his mistake. “Wait, no. God, I’ve messed up my second chance, too, haven’t I?”

The tan girl laughed. “No, no, you haven’t at all. Goodnight, Louis.”

“Goodnight,” he waved weakly before stepping out of the way for her to drive off.

He watched her car as she drove down the curvy road like he was watching her herself. When she braked, turned on her blinker, and took a left off of the street, Louis sighed to himself with a blissful smile. She really is something else, he pondered, bringing his hands up to feel how warm his face had gotten during their interactions.

He wondered if she was feeling the same joy in the pit of her stomach, too, or if it was simply one-sided. 

What he did know, though, was that he’d definitely have to thank Brody for inviting her. 

[tube-thoughts-blog]

Vol. 11

Zero stars - terrible, 1/2 a star - dull, 1 star - folly, 1 1/2 stars - lacking, 2 stars - fair, 2 1/2 stars - decent, 3 stars - terrific

"Groove On Fight" --Sega Saturn-- (Atlus) -1997- *Imagine a Japanese pretty boy version of Christopher Walken with a neo biker / leather cowboy fetish. Now imagine an entire, -wealthy & powerful- "Game of Thrones style" inbred family of them all with some peculiar fetish. They fight it out for control of the family. The matriarchy of the family is two grannies tied back to back like Siamese bondage twins. One fight takes place on the back of an American type bomber plane up above the clouds. That last sentence pretty much speaks to the disturbed nature of a lot of Japanese art after World War 2.* close to 3 stars

Godfrey Ho's "Ninja Commandments" (1987) *Who knew that honky moral issues like pre-marital sex were such problems for Ninjas, or that they liked to party with skanky groupies, and that pretty much all ninjas are not-so-secretly middle age white men.* between 2 and 2 1/2 stars

Red Letter Media: Best of the Worst --------

*Deadly Prey: Ice T's "The Game"(?), a movie where a guy gets kidnapped by army dudes and hunted for sport only to fight back, this time with a hero who's a Patrick Swayze type bohunk Rambo.* 2 1/2 stars

*Hard Ticket To Hawaii: Skinemax classic about blonde bimbos trying to stop criminal smuggling in an exotic locale. Also, killer, "infectious," cancer-ridden, huge snake.* 2 1/2 stars

*Miami Connection: Lost & found gem of a movie with nearly as many awkwardly awesome moments as Tommy Wiseau's "The Room."* 3 stars

Red Letter agrees that Miami Connection is "The Best of the Worst."

---------------------------------

"Red Earth" aka "Warzard" (Capcom) *A wizard summons up a bunch of kaiju monsters, in scattered epic sites, that only a big lion-man and several other heroes can vanquish from the earth. Typical wizard being a total dickhead, to the rest of magic-impaired mankind, behavior.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

"Bushido Blade 2" (Playstation 1) *Bloodthirsty Japanese clans have kept up the honor of warring over territory for power for centuries up into modern times, in this game. It's a nice mixture of both old and new worlds, and the music and dialogue is well done, and even the setting and characters (though limited by the blocky polygon look of early 3D). It keeps with "realism" too with one good killing stroke, with a warrior's sword, doing the job. It even has thrills like bikini girls with machine guns.* 2 1/2 stars

"The Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service Vol. 4" (Dark Horse Manga) *Morbid and eccentric tales of a group of Buddhist college students with unique gifts of communicating with corpses littered in strange locations around Japan. They help fill the odd requests of these bodies to be put at peace usually in some morbid way or involving some morbid mystery. Instead of trash "reality" entertainment like Long Island Medium, this much better "talking with the deceased" fiction should be turned into tv entertainment for western audiences. It's so much more interesting and entertaining.* 3 stars

"Savage Reign" (SNK) *This is the Kris Kross of fighters. Kriss Kross being a pair of 12 year old rappers whose record company realized their talent was lacking so they came up with the bright idea to have the duo dress with their clothes backwards. The gimmicks in Savage Reign are plenty. There's a clown who fights with roller skates. A valley-girl swinging around a pink bowling ball. His name is Joker, and she looks like a cleaned up Harley Quinn, come to think of it now. A Vanilla Ice look-a-like sports a Captain America' Canadian tuxedo of denim and stars and stripes. The Ryu style hero, of the game, fights without fireballs but instead a silly boomerang. The big boss is a fancier "cock of the walk" Shao Kahn throwing his punches with fists covered in boxing gloves. Sickly serene backgrounds include a generic Disneyland theme park and an underground cow milking gang hideout that is almost as weird as something out of "Naked Lunch."* 2 stars

The Spoony Experiment: Clones of Bruce Lee *When Bruce Lee tragically died during the height of his career, movie producing jerks didn't let it stop them from abusing his legacy. Tons of Bruce Lee impersonators popped up and a sub-genre of exploitation movies was born. They were called Brucesploitation flicks. In this one, it's about as shameless as it gets with a plot about cloning Bruce Lee before his body has even grown cold and using the clones for nefarious purposes.* close to 2 stars for the sleazy, cheesy movie and 3 stars for Spoony's review

"Fight For Life" (The Last Official Atari Jaguar Game) --1996-- *Show a kid, today, an Atari 2600 game and they'll think you're giving them something like an ink blot test. Having witnessed an Atari 2600 game, back in the day, it felt like I was standing on the edge of the digital future. The Atari Jaguar promised that brave, new, digital future with their doomed Jaguar gaming machine. I remember the first time I saw Sega's Virtua Fighter in an arcade. I did get that "tomorrow feeling." I couldn't wait to take these blocky 3D characters and make them my sandbox toys tossing them around with their ragdoll physics. It was mind blowing. Atari's Fight For Life wanted to be like Virtua Fighter, only it comes off more like a 2600 ink blot test for the imagination, and really painful to the senses. Man, is it ugly and clunky. It's definitely not "epic," but I can compare it to something else that is "epic." The Faith No More "Epic" music video where the fish out of water is flopping its death throes. It's more like that fish than a jaguar.* between 1 and 1 1/2 stars

The Cinema Snob: Karate Girl *Rape revenge exploitation "thriller" circa 1970s about a mute girl from a Turkish village. The kind of movie that Tarantino would rip off elements from and be called a genius later. Also featuring an infamous over-the-top death scene that's become an internet meme.* close to 2 stars for the movie & close to 3 stars for the review

"The Blonde Fury" (1989) *Cynthia Rothrock is the greatest female action star. It had to be said, because it's true. This is a Hong Kong action flick about crazy counterfeiters and quirky investigators. The English dubbing is extra entertaining and the comedy is quite clever.* 3 stars

Black Sails: Season 1 Episode 5 *Finally, a bloody battle, at sea, to go along with the pirate base politics and prostitute abuse.* 3 stars

Hot Package: Pilot (Adult Swim) --2013-- *Spoof of insipid celebrity obsessed shows like E!NEWS and Entertainment Tonight, but with a weird EverythingIsTerrible style obscure internet clip twist. Featuring "hot phone sex" Pat from Access Hollywood and produced by Tim & Eric from Adult Swim.* close to 2 1/2 stars

"Slap Happy Rhythm Busters" (Playstation One) *Filled with quirky characters who use supermoves similar to a Marvel Versus series game & graphics as brightly colored as 'Viewtiful Joe' 'Katamari Damacy' & 'Legend of Zelda Windwaker', Slap Happy will slap you silly with enjoyment.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

"Slaughter Sport" aka "Tongue of the Fatman" (Razorsoft) Sega Genesis 1991 *Another barbaric battle of death, in a palace pit, hosted by a Jabba the Hutt style freak boss who also looks like a shirtless Eric Cartman, in his underwear, with a hideous face and tongue on his fat rolls of a belly. Tech-abominations like a cybernetic chicken, fierce sex slave warrior chicks, gassy gargoyles, spider-women, bad boy white rappers, and other mutated freaks of the wasteland compete for the hunger and amusement of Mondu, the fatman. His pet sand-shark finishes off the losers.* running from close to 2 stars down to 1 star

"Godzilla, Destroy All Monsters: Melee" (x-Box) *This has almost everything a fan of kaiju destruction could want. Just about every Tokyo stomping monster is in it, and playable. Only thing missing is frightened citizens running about pointing at "Gojira." Plus, I think the voices over the airwaves should sound Asian. Points for the quirky bits like a UFO hovering over attacking and Mothra getting in on the action.* close to 3 stars

"Rakuga Kids" *Some brats battle their stuffed animals around their playrooms and neighborhood that look like they're out of a pop-up storybook. It's sort of Street Fighter 2 meets Toy Story 2. Animated similar to Rugrats and Adult Swim's Home Movies.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

"Dragoon Might" -Arcade- (Konami) --1995-- *The fancy presentation of this game reminds me of 2009's 3D spectacle, Avatar. It makes me wanna reach out and pick a low hanging piece of pretty fruit and bite into it. Yet, there's a pit. The artistry and poetry looks at times like it's coming from a Crouching Tiger, but hidden in the bushes, ready to pounce, is a shirtless guy in torn jeans and brandishing a butcher knife. It's just goodtime trash stealing your quarters.* 2 1/2 stars

"Kaiser Knucle" (Arcade) *This is the Vanilla Ice "Cool As Ice" of Street Fighter 2 rip offs. You can play as Fred Flinstone's daughter or "Barts" Yes with an S (teen biker Bart Simpson?) & Ryu w/ flowing mullet, or even "Boggy" who is a MC Hammer wannabe. "Don't hurt 'em!"* 2 stars

Nostalgia Critic: Rise of the Commercials *A look back on when silly advertising really RULED! "Don't put it in your mouth." That is unless it's been properly branded by corporate America and parent approved.* 3 stars

Double Dare: Super Sloppiest Moments *Kids, and their mostly whitebread families, get covered in green slime.* 2 1/2 stars

Jack & Triumph: Commercial *It starts off funny with making fun of Dennis Leary for stealing Bill Hicks' comedy act. Then it gets typical with the whole Alan Thicke showing up and we're supposed to accept that he's now "ironically funny" because he's a square former celebrity acting in an offensive way that we never saw on his old tv show. That's the same kind of lame shit that media is always trying to do in a hipster way with all these former celebrities from the 70s, 80s, or 90s. Robert Smigel can do so much better, see TV Funhouse for example.* close to 2 1/2 stars

Mystery Science Theater 3000: Master Ninja 1 *Lee Van Cleef makes a convincing wild west badass. Surrounded by 70s style slacker dude in a muscle van, mousey & young Demi Moore, hicksploitation villains, and obvious kung fu stuntman doing his action work -Lee struggles to make a convincing martial arts badass.* 2 stars with riffing between 1 1/2 and 2 stars without riffing

"Project Justice" --Sega Dreamcast-- (Capcom) *I believe it was the 70s, that era of great television, that first introduced the novelty of students teaming up with a teacher in the classic "Welcome Back, Kotter." The 80s went further, with this, having society's school aged misfits solving problems of gangs of bullies terrorizing the halls of school or jerks who wanted to close down the local youth center and even the retro cheese staple of ski slope jerks challenging our youthful heroes to a race for control of the ski slope club's mountain. This game is similar, in nature, and has the extra benefit of featuring quirky Japanese style characters and aesthetics.* close to 3 stars

"Last Bronx" (Sega Model 2 Arcade) *Consumer electronics have always been trendy with yuppies. When home entertainment centers became hot, everybody had to have one. Digital watches were on every wrist. A Sony walkman around every neck and in every pocket. Still, there was always a stigma about technology, whenever it was new or in development. At the turn of the 21st century, few would have imagined people lining up around the streets to get each new Apple computer product. Same with gaming, it was a kids novelty, and didn't have the online social media culture that it enjoyed after their was a broadband connection and a Sony Playstation 2 in most every living room across the globe. In the 90s testing stage for high end electronics and gaming, Japan was the tech giant. This game says "Last Bronx" but it's more like "Neo Tokyo." It had to have been pretty revolutionary for the time, and yet it looks very much like some thing most of us western yuppies would turn away at.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Robocop, the series: Officer Missing *"Winter is coming".... Land of the Dead... The Purge.... A Christmas Carol (Well, maybe not that one), Robocop did it first.* close to 2 1/2 stars

The Gong Show with Dave Attell: Season 1 Episode 8 *This show yips off into the sunset (cancelled, deservingly, I'm guessing) like a balloon animal dog from the sphincter of a sword swallower. It was riding a flaming pogo stick. The straw that broke the camel's back was heavy metal cookie monster or large man in diaper strip tease.* 2 stars

Robert Crumb: Despair *"You may not think it's funny, but I've got a morbid sense of humor."* close to 3 stars

"Power Instinct: Matrimelee" (Atlus) --Neo Geo-- *The creepy family members, from "Groove On Fight," are back. This time they're fighting it out, on a televised American Idol type stage, Jerry Springer style. The prize is a hand in marriage. Given its pedigree, and Japanese setting, it's weird as fuck, yet very surprisingly charming.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

"Kill Or Be Killed" (1980) *Our villain: an escaped Nazi seeking vague revenge by hosting a "Enter the Dragon" type death tournament. Our hero: a mullet-headed, shirtless, karate badass in a tight pair of bell-bottom jeans. He's out to save his girlfriend from the Nazi. Our wildcard: a Game of Thrones type scheming dwarf helping out our karate hero. Our story: pure grindhouse chop sockey cinema.* close to 3 stars

"Rabbit" (Sega Saturn) *Presentation of this game is nice. It reminds me of the new HD Rayman games' colorful eye candy and whimsy joined together with a clever Cartoon Network cartoon like Regular Show or Adventure Time. The fighters each have a beast or spirit animal. It reminds me of sports fanatics and their team mascots. If so many animals weren't endangered, sports fans would be worse than an old school Ruskie with a dancing bear. There would be a stadium full of Eagles fans each with their own personal bald eagle to show off. Dolphins fans would have a kids swimming pool, in the living room beneath the big screen, sporting a live dolphin who they'd feed anchovies off of their pizza to. Another thing about these fighting games, why are all the people in the background so unaffected by the brawls? They're always nicely eating a bowl of noodles in an outdoor cafe or riding a bicycle with a monkey or.....* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

"Waku Waku 7" (Sunsoft) -1996- *While watching lemmings hop around musically, on this game, I had an epiphany. Fellas we are never gonna get around to building those war robots out of our spare lawnmower and washing machine parts. Ladies, our obese house cats aren't gonna magically start talking and giving us humorous life advice to share on social media. Don't fret, we'll always have the Japanese to create our crazy dreams. That is unless a giant, radiated salamander, with a taste for human sushi, crawls up on the sands of some south Pacific beach.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

"Streets of Rage 3" (SEGA) *It's a typical beat 'em up story. The evil Mr. X is controlling the city with his band of street punks. Our heroes: Dr. Zan (the bald fu-manchu sporting head of a martial arts sensei badass on top of a cyborg body riding around on rocket skates), this ninja chick in a short minskirt, a blonde Ken Masters look-a-like kung fu street fighter, and a token 90s black kid who loves basketball so much he won't put down his b'ball. They have to battle through wave after wave of mercs and pick up turkey dinner power ups.* 2 1/2 stars

Red Letter Media: Best of the Worst --------

Russian Terminator: *"that's what friends ARE! for" also an Anna Nicole look-a-like, a Kenny Rogers look-a-like, and a ninja.* 2 very awkward stars

Ninja Vengeance: *"Ninja" (a horrible one) John Tesh look-a-like on the run from the Klan in the backwoods of a hicksploitation town.* 1 1/2 stars

Never Too Young To Die: *Heart-throb John Stamos, sexy "Vanity" who's a Prince protege, and chick with a dick Gene Simmons is the rockstar who plays the over the top villain.* 2 stars

Red Letter Media ranks them best to worst as Russian T., Never Too Y., and Ninja V.*

---------------------------------

Freddy Krueger in "Mortal Kombat" (2011) *Freddy mocked the rising popularity of video games in "Freddy's Dead." Two decades later, he returns to the mockery. Released a couple years after the toothless remake, this tongueless appearance by Freddy is sorely missing Robert Englund's macabre wordplay.* 1 1/2 stars

Freddy's Nightmares: Identity Crisis ----

*Jeff Conaway, and the sheriff from Friday the 13th: Part 6, give this episode a level of Tales from the Crypt "star power." The story is the 'Family Ties' zeitgeist of the its time period. The spirit of the 60s (hippies) versus the spirit of the 80s (yuppies).* close to 3 stars

*Teenage pound puppies. Emo pound puppies.* 1 1/2 stars for most of the episode 2 1/2 stars for the Freddy dreamhouse sequences

---------------------------

Forensic Files: Postal Mortem *Radioshack enthusiast who's a 'Hercules Bullseye Bomber' and master forger of Mormon historical documents.* 2 1/2 stars

Wizards and Warriors: Skies of Death *Doomsday cannon on the cliffs of doom.* 3 stars

Attack On Titan: Episode 2 *Giving a new meaning to "in your face." A term that I don't care for, but here it comes to represent humongous, naked, grinning humans stomping up in one's personal space to chow down on that person like a corndog. The emotions of the kids, and the dread of the situation for them, keeps everything from getting too out of hand as a spectacle.* 3 stars

The Cinema Snob: The Pierre Kirby Saga *A more-than-competent action badass from a handful of less-than-competent Hong Kong action exploitation "movies."* 3 stars for Snob's retrospect and close to 2 stars for the "movies"

Look Around You: Iron *Point point zero point, ring the bell and the experiment can begin within the twinkling of an eye that is hidden behind a metal face shackle.* 2 1/2 stars

VH1 Classics --- Pop Up Video --- (The Big 80's) -------

a-ha - "Take On Me": Few Americans stuck around to notice that this internationally popular Swedish band lasted long after their early 1980s one hit wonder and only broke up after the 1994 Winter Olypics in which they were featured European band.* 3 plus stars for the pop ups and 3 classic MTV stars for the original video

Pat Benatar - Love is a Battlefield": 30 year old Pat portrayed a 16 year old runaway "too controversial for MTV prostitute" in this video.* 3 plus stars with pop ups and close to 3 stars MTV classic without

John Cougar - "Jack & Diane": One guy lived in a coma for 37 years. He wasn't doing a lot of handclapping and air drumming like Johnny Cougar was doing in this video.* 3 stars with pop ups between 2 1/2 and 3 stars without

Lionel Richie - "Hello": Lionel loves for all of his video vixens to have the same hairstyle as he does.* 3 stars with pop ups 2 1/2 stars, cheesy stars, without pop ups

Van Halen - "Hot For Teacher": This unruly music video caused the child stars to eventually become unruly like the real life Van Halen.* 3 plus stars with pop ups 3 sleazy stars without pop ups

--------------------------

Viper: Mind Games *A sleeper saboteur, a vixen viper, and a truckload of disease.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Twisted Tales #10 ----------------- (Bruce Jones, Bernie Wrightson, Bill Wray, Rick Geary)

Beer: A story of ribbing greenhorns up where the tree-line ends and the green turns to white snowy mountains, and there be yeti's who drive a hard bargain and a sled.* 3 stars

One For The Money: A cat-burglar gets caught and commits murder. He assumes a bear-suit disguise and flees to the woods where he gets gunned down by hunters.* 2 1/2 stars

Hatchet Job: Scientists go back and time and bumble trying to solve the Lizzie Borden murders. ha.* 2 1/2 stars

Two For The Show: A retelling of the earlier cat-burglar tale. This time the party guest kills the intruder, then takes the jewels for himself. Instead of getting shot by a pair of hunters, he gets mauled by a mother grizzly bear. The irony.* close to 3 stars

A haggard man buys a bed from a used store for his sick daughter to rest on her deathbed as she gets out of the hospital. That night, he's visited by the ghost of a girl haunting the bed that died in it, years earlier, in a torn down orphanage fire.* 3 stars, I guess...

Poison in the Pantry: A miserable and mistreated wife and stepmother puts rat poison in the family's soup. She dreams of even better days, from behind bars.* 3 stars

-------------------------------

Hill Street Blues: Life. Death. Eternity... *Etcetera.* 3 stars

X Files: Tooms *Skinner, the Smoking Man, and one of the best "monster" villains ever on the show.* 3 stars

Twitch City: I'm Fat and I'm Proud *Every episode of every tv show ever on tape. And almost everything else a slacker could ever want, for all seasons, except love? And the ability to exit comfortably into society.* 3 stars

Real Pulp Comics #1 *Perverse and humorous tales of skid row lowlifestyle in the babyboom generation's peak.* 2 1/2 stars

Max Headroom: Neurostim *Football, Fast-Food, Fantasy. counter-Fucking-revolutionary.* 3 stars

Farscape: Nerve *Infiltrating a Peacekeeper base, and meeting the Peacekeeper's Darth Vader (Scorpius).* 3 stars

Look Around You: Brain *"Pretty smart for something that looks like a common garden cauliflower."* close 3 stars

Forensic Files: Micro Clues *Tiny communities of freshwater creatures ring out truth and justice from the lungs of a drowned boy of a Swiss village.* 2 stars

Kingdom Hospital: Season 1 Episode 10 *Call the doctor, call the nurse, these guys (King and Lars) are goofy and getting worse.* either 1 star or close to 2 1/2 stars

---Animal Planet--- I Was Bitten: The Walker County Incident *"Animal Planet, surprisingly human." Unsurprisingly stupid. Far more entertaining than the usual (Finding Bigfoot) cryptozoology reality tv whore idiots. Points for the twist ending prank gotcha moment.* either 1 star or close to 2 1/2 stars

======= Trash TV ---- Seasons Finale ------ Marathon ===================

Forensic Files: Something's Fishy *The cyanide tainted Excederin pain reliever panic of the early 90s.* 2 1/2 stars

Forensic Files: Sealed With A Kiss *Psycho teacher stalks herself and then frames a rival faculty member.* close to 3 stars

Forensic Files: Deadly Parasites *Shit leaked into Lake Michigan contaminates the Milwaukee water supply and kills over a hundred people.* 2 1/2 stars

American Horror Story --- Murder House: Afterbirth *The "Murder House" is back on the market at a reduced prices. Also, ghosts can slit other ghosts' throats and they bleed ghost blood. Who knew? They even like to celebrate the season of giving (Christmas) with all the trimmings of the living.* either 1 star or 3 stars for a balls out finale

American Horror Story --- Asylum: Madness Ends *Lana Winters (the reporter from AHS: Asylum) is no Edison Carter (the reporter from Max Headroom). And so concludes this chapter of American Melodrama. Horror's end is supposed to be wrapped up in neat little bows of tenderness... EH? No? Ok.* 2 1/2 stars, I guess

American Horror Story --- Coven: Go To Hell *"I made you die those little deaths." Hell is a fried chicken shack. Ghosts need passports for travel. Who knew? Paula Deen isn't really sorry. She's just sorry that she was caught.* close to 3 stars

American Horror Story --- Coven: The Seven Wonders

*Welcome to the World Series of witchcraft. Let the Harry Potter games begin.

I especially got a chuckle out of the girls just wanna have fun teleportation game of tag that happened right after the hippie witch got stuck in her own personal "8th grade biology dissection of a frog" hell.

It would seem like black humor, but I think it's not meant to be. It's just poor writing.

Take for instance how the redheaded hag/nag says that the new supreme witch can't have a "Whitewater scandal" to be a blemish on her new leadership.

So, she demands to be burned alive in the most soap opera dramatic and laughable way possible to the Stevie Nicks music that's playing throughout the show (the show even begins like a Stevie Nicks music video. *rolls eyes*).

Since the new Coven is going public (kind of like a corporation joining the New York Stock exchange and opening all their books up, or whatever), one would think that committing an act of murder (the witch burning) might somehow leak out and be frowned upon eventually leading to scandal.  

Anyway, that aside, "The Axe Man" and "Fiona" carry the show with their charisma and moody moments together, as usual.

We get another feel good ending, for some reason, because that's horror, according to the producers of this show and the Fox musical GLEE.

Why are these guys pretending to do horror?

I did appreciate Fiona's return from the dead, before dying again (Ha), reminding me of Interview With A Vampire's scene where Tom Cruise crawls out of the swamp after being gatorbait left for dead by his gloomy boyfriend and porcelain doll daughter.

Also, in closing, Fiona's version of hell was quite fitting and moody compared to the pretentious and childish versions of hell for all the other characters.

For example; the annoying good teenager chick's hell beat out the annoying bad teenager chick's hell for level of awfulness.

And that was an accomplishment.

The bad chick's hell was being stuck on a Hollywood musical that she didn't like. *Snot*

The good chick's hell was having her James Dean wannabe boyfriend breaking up with her every day. *Vomit*

I guess hell is happening here on earth for every emo 16 year old all the time.

I have already wasted too many words on most of this pile stinky fish guts.*

running from around 1 1/2 stars a lot of the time up to 2 1/2 stars at different moments

==========================================================================

"Sacred Cow Halloween Special" circa 1993 (All Hallow's Eve? Why not? It's June) *Early 1990s public access tv special featuring a lot of low-fi indie music videos from bands who don't give a shit and live call in guests to the hosts and Bill Hicks in hell. Plus the legend, Bill Hicks, pulls out the home video footage of where he stood in the neighboring cow pasture, and ranted about the government, while Janet Reno rolled tanks with flamethrowers through the walls of a crazy cult so that they could charbroil children. Yep, have a happy trick r' Summer treat and roast in the heat.* more than 2 1/2 stars

"Beyond Belief" =================================

*Early 90s Nickelodeon took time to educate kids, where modern Nick tries to sell them tweeny bopper pop star insipid kid sitcoms.

Stories here include:

The City of the Dead that lies beneath Paris.

History lesson about how the Greeks burned half the Roman, enemy, fleet using solar energized shields.

Sadly poetic tale of The Elephant Man and his time in a London hospital.

Important message about conservation and protecting endangered animals. "Don't cut down the rainforest." Man, I have fond memories of "earth friendly" science lessons during my childhood school years. A really hopeful, positive time.

We visit the Cabaret Mechanical Theater featuring robotic dolls & toys (creepy and cool).

Some funny laws, around the world, are discussed like the illegal carrying of ice cream cones in your pocket in Kentucky and so on.

Cursed opera causes God to smite anyone the opera singer looks at while singing, "Oh, God smash him!"

We meet a 17 year old autistic genius artist who can draw any London monument or building. Autism was still misunderstood, greatly, during this time.

A visit to an old magician's backyard where he displays to us a new, old trick.

Finally, it's a history lesson about Westerners reluctance at first and then being sold on the idea and practice of embalming the corpses of their loved ones for funeral display.

Great stuff.

-Classic commercials include:

Scram Ball, "the hot new game."

Bubble tape, the bubble gum that's hard for grandma to eat.

Murray mountain bikes are so rugged that they can help a 10 year old outrun his 16 year old bro's pickup truck on rocky terrain.

A Fresh Prince of Bel'Air kid is tired of being told "no" so he eats Raisin Bran for some reason....

A gang of 90s tv kids have a video cam corder scavenger hunt thanks to McDonalds.*

close to 3 stars

=======================================================

Police Squad: A Substantial Gift (WLS7-Chicago) 3 - 4 - 1982 =============

*First we get a commercial for a home electronics and appliance store. Man, the 70s and early 80s had such an ugly color decor thing going on. Putrid greens, tans, yellows, and dingy greys going on everything from fridges to stoves to dishwashers to carpet to vaccuumcleaners. Some nice pics of walls of the very popular, at the time, ghetto blaster boom boxes (nice).

 "Blast From The Past," Saturday at 6:30 featuring a dapper dude brushing his wavy hair and a go go chick hula hooping. The 80s were really nostalgic for the 50s.

And, now with a flashing red siren we're told we'll be watching Police Squad "In Color."  The show starts out with a woman who's being stuck for cash by a crooked orthodonist. Ha. She kills her loan clerk boyfriend and frames a poor sap trying to get the loan in a double homicide.

A hazy looking Loren cosmetics commercial

followed by a movie trailer for the insipid Oscar bait movie "On Golden Pond."

Leslie Nielsen shows up to the crime, knocking over trash cans with his cop car. Funny sight gag of the meat wagon boys taking out an extra, extra long body on an extra, extra long stretcher. They find a way to work in the old type "Who's on first!?" joke to her formal statement of the crime.

The forensic lab guy is a wacko.

A visit to the victim's wife, and Nielsen rambles on about himself (ha) during her grief.

The killer dame shows up to give her official statement looking like an obvious fink in a new fur coat and feathered boa.

We get a funny scene where one cop's so tall his head is off camera.

"Crisp and clean" "No Caffeine" "Never had it, never will." "Feelin' up with 7 'Up."

A pretty model girl walks around fields of amber grains waving while sporting a "Cover Girl Face."

 Benson & Open All Night are part of the ABC Friday Night line up.

Lieutenant Nielsen re-enacts the crime by actually shoothing his fellow officers, leaving a pile of bodies while he ponders the crime. Ha.

Cops and Priests (What do you know about life after death? *hands over a 20$*) seek confidential information from a shoe shine man.

Medieval orthodontist gear is highlighted via willingly happy kids wearing headgear. Leslie does some dental exam physical comedy.

Some oblivious cops sight gags in an elevator. Clever stuff.

Showdown with the dirty dame featuring bad wigs and a bullet filled Mexican standoff from a couple feet away from each other behind trash cans and a sidewalk bus bench. Bullhorn "Give it up!" warning from just as close a length.

New Aim mint is the talk of the whiteboy locker room..

Sexy as heck, and wet in a pool, Lynda Carter likes her lips "wet." Mmmmmm

Stay Tuned for Bossom Budies and "Night of 100 Stars"

Old school, syndicated television. Can't beat it.*

3 stars

=========================================================================

MTV's Ridiculousness with special guest Dr. Drew Pinsky *Normally this poor kid's America's Funniest Home Videos for skateboard wiggers, hosted by a skateboard wigger & his black friend & his airheaded blonde friend, would get zero stars for its unfunny commentary on outdated extreme sports accident videos and mishap/ prank videos.... but since quack pop-psychiatry tv celebrity "doctor" Drew is on here and giving insight into the social problems many of these fools, in these foolish videos, do happen to supposedly have... Well, it's more absurd and tolerable.* close to 2 stars

"Five Fingers Of Death" *It's the formula tale of bullies terrorizing a town, and the heroes finally standing up to them. It could be a western, an 80s surfing/ski resort movie, but here it's a Shaw brothers kung fu flick. Many hipsters will recognize the Kill Bill music that Tarantino stole from this film.* 3 stars

Tom Green's Subway Monkey Hour --2002-- *Tom Green will probably always be infamous for the terrible "Freddy Got Fingered," and he deserves it. This hour long MTV special featuring Tom being the weirdest Westerner possibly ever in Japan is way better than that awful Hollywood mistake of a "movie." In fact, it's a dozen times more interesting than the Jackass movies that borrow the skit after skit format of this special. Add an extra thirty minutes of footage from this trip to Japan, which I'm sure they had, and it would have been a better choice to be released in movie theaters instead of "Freddy Got Fingered."* close to 3 stars

Tales From The Crypt: Lover Come Hack To Me *Car trouble on a desolate road on the honeymoon night. The couple seeks shelter in an old-dark-house. There's a cozy fireplace with a big, medieval axe hanging above it. A storm is raging outside. The bride is a strange, little virgin. The groom is a sleazy bohunk acting surprised to have found a 45 magnum in his glove box. She wonders if he married her for the money (no surprise, he did). Bloody memories haunt the place same as their "romance." It's the perfect setting for mur-der (*Thunder & Lightning!*)...* 3 stars

Six Feet Under: The Will *Diving board death. Pyramid scheme. Backstreet Boy look-a-like douchey boyfriend. Meeting of gay firemen. Breaking up with Ed Begley Jr. Blackmail from beyond the grave. Selling a slightly used coffin at a discount rate. Burning someone's name into your flesh. Buyout offer. Emotional breakdown on the bus that killed the father. Toe suck.* close to 3 stars

100 Bullets: The Counterfifth Detective (Vertigo Comics) *Piano bar without a piano player. A private dick wrapped up like the Invisible Man. Stolen art with codes from one's past. A damaging echo.* between 2 1/2 & 3 stars

Justified: Season 1 Episode 5 *The cowboy's pa is an outlaw.* 3 stars

American Gothic: Resurrector *Going away presents for a ghost and a sacrifice to the devil.* close to 3 stars

Kung Fu: Nine Lives *"Find a cat or be a tramp all your life." "Dark and vain are the ways of lust, the poet said." or something of that nature...* 3 stars

"Master of the Flying Guillotine" *A bloody martial arts tournament, where every fighter has a unique gimmick or style, is interrupted by a badass villain using his flying guillotine to pull the heads off of every one armed boxer that he finds until he gets his revenge. He finds out that he's not as badass as the real one armed boxer. This flick had to have had a huge influence on both Street Fighter 2 and Mortal Kombat.* 3 stars

Doctor Who: The Satan Pit *A claustrophobic, high stakes sci fi story similar to The Thing, Leviathan, and Alien.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

"Horror Express" (Christopher Lee & Peter Cushing) *It's about time, some cryptozoology monster goodness. Finding Bigfoot type nonsense has almost killed the fun in this fantasy genre. It helps that this movie is Hammer horror style and has Lovecraftian-dread overtones.* 3 stars

Gerhard's America: Gerhard at NASCAR *Gerhard finds he has a lot in common with effeminate racer Michael Waltrip.* close to 2 1/2 stars

------ TV Carnage:

*A Lot Of Men Collect Barbie Dolls: "It's a professional hobby, now." Nothing weird, at all here.* 2 stars

*A Woman's Guide To Guns and Hallucinating: Learn about your weapon, instead of fantasizing about it.* close to 2 stars

*Aids = Hump Day Poison!: The 80s were all about high risk behavior.* close to 2 1/2 stars

*Child Actor Failures: Are you being rigid enough or in some cases too rigid with your little gold-mine?* close to 3 stars

*Damn Shame: It's a shame that white boy thugs get gunned down every day. Call America's Most Wanted or Yo! MTV Raps with any info on the possible killer.* 2 1/2 stars

---------------------------------------

Monstervision with Joe Bob Briggs: Big Trouble In Little China

*Joe Bob pokes fun at the culture of addiction.

We learn about Carter Wong, the martial arts expert who stars in the movie. Amazing credits to his kung fu game.

Preview for TNT's new classic "The Golden Child" starring Eddie Murphy

quirky KIA suv car commercial from 1998 featuring cliche gator hunting / swamp loving Cajuns who'd be the type in reality shows more than a decade later. It's funny here, sort of, but tiresome if you live in this era of bad reality tv "real folk" like this.

preview for Jacki Chan's "Rumble in the Bronx" and its American cable tv debut on TNT

a yuppy mom tries to stuff a pizza into her toaster, but doesn't have to anymore because some processed junk food company invented toaster pizza snacks. "White lady/mom problems"

Kim Cattral is gorgeous, in this movie, and not an old whore who'd make you swear off women like she would after her Sex in the City days

SNL's Weekend Update anchor Kevin Nealon sells out for a collect call "so 90s it hurts" advertisement. One good thing about cell phones is that these ads disappeared

Joe Bob's Drive In Totals for this flick: 57 dead bodies... One kidnapping... Four motor vehicle chases... One wheelchair chase... One White-Slavery Ring... Yellow-Slavery Ring... One Machine Gun Massacre... One Machete Battle... Multiple Blue Finger-Flame... One Zombie-fied Levitating 2,000-Year-Old Man With Really Bad Fingernails... Exploding Building...Exploding Temple... Knife To The Forehead... One Ocean of Chained Skeletons... One Palace Of Golden Buddhas... Poison Gas... Nine Kung Fu Scenes...

Racquelle Welch in One Million BC, another drive in classic, next week on Monstervision

Some Hollywood stunt-men cowboys beat the shit out of each other for a Pontiac "Montana" minivan. Sure, why not?

Soulful 70s singer-songwriter Aflac family insurance ad, family station wagon Tru Value helpful employee kidnapping ad, Home Depot helpful employees..., some bruthas turn a stranger's need for directions into a roadtrip down the road for some McDonalds.... 90s commercials tried to be really feel good, but come off very insipid

"Tired of Phony Psychics?" Generic graphics of lightning strikes and huge yellow background typed letters plus a doe eyed weirdo lady claiming to have certified psychics for her phone network.... "Guaranteed Authentic by the U.S. Govt." HAAAA.... wow! what a claim!

Joe Bob pines about how there aren't perfect women in the world, and how guys give up women over nail color, comparing it to the plot of the movie being about the search for a perfect, green eyed Chinese chick

Then, Joe Bob skewers the politically correct critics, of this movie, who said that Big Trouble re-enforced Asian stereotypes.

Kitschy style Miller Lite commercial where four old ladies try to contact the spirit of one lady's dead husband. He's a slab, of course, and comes back to life, possessing the body of one of her friends, raiding the fridge for beer and scratching his (her) ass. She's overjoyed.

Kellog's Breakfast Mates... A commercial that's basically saying, "Let corporate America continue to "raise" your children." It's convenient.

Joe Bob teaches us about Kurt Russell's ties to Elvis and Disney and John Carpenter

TNT updates its Monstervision website "once a week." Current people and websites, of the internet(s), update every second of the day. Waiting a week for something new is almost as painful as the information (nonsense) overload of right now.

Dennis Miller is in line at a hipster coffe shop complaining about the price of "a cup of Joe" and the price of collect calls. If he sounds like a cranky and out of touch old man here, wait til a decade later where he's rambling incoherently to his best pal Mr.Bill O'Reilly on Fox News.

Two 90s alterna-chicks having a conversation: "One day we'll meet, marry, and have cyber sex with the man of our dreams online." Robert Englud cameo in Dee Snider's Strangeland

Joe Bob points out that there's a "not so incognito" Penthouse Pet in this flick

TNT Mail Girl Reno gets asked to how much it would take to "get nekkid" by Joe Bob, and then he reads an angry letter from an upset liberal who loves freedom so much that he wants to ban free speech that he doesn't like by calling it "hatred." Ha. Joe Bob made a joke about "killing liberals" or something and this guy got his feelings hurt. Boo hoo.

Joe Bob rips TNT a new asshole for taking an awful commercial break, featuring about 14 insipid 90s "feel good" commercials, during the EPIC kung fu finale. Being on TNT, and not too late in the night unlike TNT's 100% Weird, Monstervision suffered some really lame commercials. USA UP All Night usually had more lame B movies instead of good B movies, yet they featured a lot more entertaining and sleazy commercials compared to Monstervision Other, late night basic cable and UHF B movies had better commercials than TNT as well. Fucking TNT. So schmaltzy and sickening. You watch a weird, late night movie, you want weird late night commercials, and you want them not to interrupt the best part of the movie. You don't want a great kung fu scene stopped to have five minutes of sepia toned artsy cinematography of elderly couples slow dancing in the shadow of the Brooklyn bridge while romantic piano music plays and there's a warm feeling about life insurance or some crap.

Roll Credits.*

3 stars for Big Trouble (For fun and memorable characters, it's to the 80s what A New Hope was to the 70s) 3 stars for Joe Bob and 1 star for TNT's bullstuff

---------------------------------------------------------------------

--- Found Footage Fest:

*Caught In The Web, Staying Safe in Cyberspace: Surfin' with a cyber sleuth and stopping smut and sickos both online and in the real world. If any of this is actually real.* close to 3 stars

*Check It Out _ Acne Video: "Hip" teen talk show infomercial about bogus zits.* 2 1/2 stars

*Chef Keith _ Fake Chef Pranks Morning TV Shows: You can make one of those creepy smiling talking head news morning show hosts believe that "The average person eats around a pound and a half of feces a year." HA! Most of the feces comes from morning talks shows.* 3 stars

*Christian Rock Video Showdown: We're all a wiener slash loser with these bands that are a even more soft rock cross between Journey, Foreigner, Kenny Loggins, and a hairy butt.* close to 3 stars

*John and Johnny and Earrings: Homeshopping host is giddy about seashell earrings.* close to 2 stars

--------------------------------

Fargo: The Six Ungraspables *There are no saints in the animal kingdom, only breakfast... lunch.. and dinner.* 3 stars

Gerhard Reinke's America: Gerhard Reinke in Burlington, Vermont *Home of laidback liberals and Lochness lizards.* 2 1/2 stars

Vanity Fair, Confidential: Mad About the Boys *Lou Pearlman loved to hear singing from voices that hadn't yet gone through puberty. He also loved hot air balloons and ponzi schemes. No surprise that the super-rich sponsor of a creepy cult of child entertainers was not-so-secretly a pig-man spawn of Satan himself.* 2 1/2 stars

X Files: Born Again *Mustache'd cop working Chinatown. He gets killed by some shady colleagues. Years later, he returns as a very gloomy little-girl with special powers and vengeance on her(his) mind.* close to 3 stars

The Prisoner: Checkmate *On a wing and a prayer and unfortunately an air of authority.* 3 stars

----- TV Carnage:

*Dr. Drew and MTV Got Cold Feet: Could be worse. Could be dead like Corey Haim and his girlfriend. Killed by Brigette Nielsen, Stallone and Flava Flav's ex.* close to 2 stars

*TV Carnage: Dixie Carter Death Trip: Designing women to be strangely obnoxious.* 2 stars

*Even His Scream Is Bad Acting: Bohunk (Dumb goodlooking American guy. Not the dictionary definition which insults someone from Europe.) slasher victim.* close to 2 1/2 stars

*Give Head Responsibly: Consult your doctor before giving or receiving.* 2 1/2 stars

*God Gives A Second Chance To Anyone. It's In His Book: Especially to those with a Pat Boone singing style and a new book coming out about second chances.* close to 2 1/2 stars

-----------------------------------------

Hannibal: Sorbet *Hannibal has a stalker/fan/wannabe BFF who compares him to Michael Jackson. Meanwhile, Hannibal keeps recipes of people on their business cards.* between 2 1/2 and 3 stars

Look Around You: Music (season 2) *The show's format has completely changed to an in studio info / variety presentation, and while it's no longer the mock science docu-series that it started out as, it's still silly and clever. Plus, it's longer at a half hour.* 2 1/2 stars

Game of Thrones: Season 3 Episode 9 *This show is good and shockingly heavy, as usual, but I watch it in a way that would more than frustrate diehard fans. I'm seasons behind where everyone else is, and I have no concern as to when I see the next chapter.* 3 stars

Shaw Brothers: Executioners from Shaolin *At the heart of this movie is a dysfunctional kung fu family. On the wedding night, the groom can't get the bride's legs open because her crane style is too strong. Mother teaches son crane style kung fu and they playfully use it even when she's trying to wash the family's clothes. Dad can't even sit down to a good meal, because son wants to test dad's tiger style kung fu.* 3 stars

[jinjikook]

Under The Stars (M)

word count: 8k 

genre: smut + a tiny bit of fluff at the end; domestic AU + church boy! doyoung

pairing: reader/doyoung

summary: you’re forced to go to the equivalent of bible camp, out in the forest. unfortunately, you’re also forced to share a tent with a resident goody-two-shoes and you decide to have a little fun messing with him. turns out, it brings him to his limit and pushes him over the edge.

requested by: an anon who wanted a camping smut with doyoung from nct 127

a/n: just a disclaimer that none of the religion talk was supposed to be rude or offensive, it was simply a theme i chose so please don’t take anything said to heart.

masterlist

The weather was balmy, clammy even. It made your loose t-shirt stick to you in ways you could only verbalize as gross. Another heavy sigh left your mouth as you shrugged your duffle bag to your other shoulder, both of them already sore from the constant switching of the weight as you trudged along the trail.

Your mother made you go on this trip, a so-called “annual camping cleanse” that your local church would host to the local youth. The age limit was technically at 18 but the pastor more often than not let others go regardless of age, wanting whomever who wanted to experience the healing powers of nature come along. So long as they followed the rules.

They are as stated:

1.      Absolutely no intermingling between the males and females of the group inside tents

2.      Clean up after yourself, including campfires and dishes.

3.      Respect everyone

4.      Know what you’re there for: to learn the beauty God has graced onto this earth.

It was awfully corny and you never wanted to go in the first place. But your grades had been slipping lately along with an up rise in the form of a biting attitude towards your mother. This resulted her having a long talk with your church’s pastor to which she explained the situation. Usually the camping trip had a deadline to sign up by, which is what you hoped would save you from the torture of being eaten alive by countless mosquitos all while not being able to kill them because “all of God’s creatures are beautiful and have a purpose in this life”. Unfortunately, not even that saved you. Your pastor had been touched that your mother thought the trip would be the best way to help her and agreed wholeheartedly. The entire scene made you gag.

So now you’re forced to be in this god-forsaken group of tweens and young teenagers, a singular legal adult among the youth. There were only two other people your age; a pretty girl named Joy who you knew from school and a shy boy named Doyoung, who usually stayed quiet on the sidelines. You knew Doyoung strictly from church, having seen him passionately recite sermons alongside some other students who shared his love for the religion. You had no intentions of being around him, already deciding on making Joy your only hope in surviving the next few days out in the cold and bitter wilderness.

You say cold but in reality, the heat is biting against your skin and nipping at your heels so fervently you could barely think straight.

How much longer? You thought as the path began to open up into a grassy clearing, a rickety brown sign telling you that this was your new home for the next 3 days.

Campsite D

“Alright everyone! We’ve arrived, please set down your belongings as we distribute some snacks and water. You all have earned it after that invigorating hike! Can’t you just feel the Lord pulsing through your veins?” Your pastor animatedly droned on as you mumbled a bitter I feel like the Lord isn’t what coursing through my veins to which Joy giggled to quietly at your side. You’d definitely stick to her like a bee with honey, sure that she’d be your saving grace out in this barren forest.

Setting your baby blue duffle next to Joy’s ducky yellow backpack, you waited for her so you could stroll together towards the few chaperones that were already passing out most likely stale granola bars and miniature bottles of water. You graciously took them both, uncapping the water quickly and chugging its minimal contents in seconds. You stashed the crunchy bar in the pocket of your loose denim shorts for later, not wanting to deal with the cotton mouth it’d give you just yet.

Your pastor spoke up again, regaining the attention of the now feeding youth that encircled him, “We’re going to take a quick roll call and then we’ll move on to tent assignments! Remember: no fraternizing with the opposite sex.” Your pastor seemed hell bent to keep the all-so sinful temptation of intermingling teenage hormones to a minimum. A difficult feat indeed based on the fact it was several of you versus the few chaperones and the great outdoors was a quite a venue to lose one’s virginity and innocence.

You scoffed at the sheer thought of some of the 14 year olds that surrounded you trying to get to second base inside a tent. It was laughable in itself and you wondered if some of these kids came to this solely to get away from parents and guardians just so they could feel up on some other horny preteen like themselves. The concept, while in theory, was practical but in reality was nothing more than awkward and uncomfortable for all parties involved. Especially if you got caught.

“Joy!” One of the chaperones shouted to which your new friend piped up cheerily, raising her hand. “Bunny Tent!” She giggled at the name for her home for the next few days. Each tent assignment was to have between 2-3 people in each, depending on the age of those residing inside. You mentally celebrated that Joy and yourself would get a tent all to yourselves because of your age. Unless they wanted to pair one of you up with Doyoung, which was hilariously unlikely.

“Y/N!” You begrudgingly rose your arm and the chaperone that called you took a peek down at their marked up clipboard before giving you your tent assignment. “Gopher Tent!” Taking a double take, you and Joy exchange confused glances at the name of your tent. Before the chaperone could continue rattling off names and odd animals in lieu of tent assignments, you shouted to get their attention.

“I’m sorry, but why am I in Gopher? I’m 18, the only other female of that age besides Joy. Shouldn’t I be bunking with her?” The chaperone shook their head, sternly telling you that the assignments were final.

Mind still reeling with wandering thoughts as to whom you could be bunking with, your answer is quickly brought to light with the next name that’s shouted.

“Doyoung! Gopher Tent!” The mere mention of your tent made you freeze. What was going on? Weren’t guys and girls not supposed to room together, seriously, what is even going on? You glanced over at the boy who was the same age as you and watched as he fidgeted nervously between one foot and the other. He clearly wasn’t comfortable with this decision either, and you’d have to clear this up with the pastor immediately. Clearly this was a mistake; there was no way they’d willingly bunk a male and female together, especially not ones of legal age like yourselves, whom had most likely already been exposed to a lot of temptation and experiences.

Once everyone was coming together with their tent mates in small bundles, introducing themselves and getting to know one another, you gestured to Doyoung to follow you. He bit down on his lip and nodded before shuffling behind you. You tried to not stomp your way over to the pastor, but you really were hoping for the godsend that was Joy to be your tent mate for the remainder of this trip.

“Excuse me, Father?” Your pastor turned on heel to face you, ripping his eyes away from what looked like a hefty itinerary for the rest of the day. You shuddered at the thought of all the horrible bonding games you’d have to endure today. “Doyoung and I seem to have been misplaced in terms of tents? There’s certainly no way that you’d want us to be together, we’re of opposite sexes!” You tried to innocently rattle off your reason, as if it wasn’t clear as day that you two were indeed of opposite genders. He responded with a chuckle and shake of the head, as if the answer was so plain and simple.

“My dear, young Doyoung and you are supposed to be in a shared tent. He is a child of The Lord and has since proven that. And since we needed another hand to keep an eye on the younger ladies on this trip, we’ve decided that Joy was the perfect candidate to make sure they stay on the path of righteousness all through this lovely weekend. We figured you wouldn’t mind staying with Doyoung; he is respectful and humble, more than willing to give you plenty of room. For your troubles, we’ve gone ahead and given you two one of the larger tents. There should be more than enough space for the two of you to coexist peacefully for the next few days.” He didn’t even give you a chance to protest before one of the volunteers came asking for him to approve of a few final things in the itinerary. He shrugged you off with a firm farewell and wave of the hand, leaving you stand in disbelief at your luck.

Shaking your head, you sighed and shuffled off to where you knew your now permanent tent was set up. Arriving in front of the nylon mounted shelter, you were genuinely impressed, the thing looked pretty spacious and actually seemed like a comfortable stay. Even if it was with a guy you barely knew. Hearing someone cough awkwardly behind you, you’re met with Doyoung himself. He stood and stared at you, clearly not comfortably with the arrangements as well.

“H-hi. My name’s Doyoung… you’re Y/N right?” His voice shook with anxiety as you raked your eyes across his body. He was clearly not the most confident person but you could tell he was at the very least trying his best to come across as friendly and welcoming. Letting yourself smile warmly at him, your feelings on the matter dissipated as you felt pity for the poor guy. Not like he asked for this either, and he was clearly not a sleazy guy happy to get a woman all alone with him nor was he a hormonal tween with a tendency to have wandering hands.

You could live for the next few days with this arrangement, so long as you guys honored each other’s privacy. Gesturing to the tent, Doyoung shuffled in front of you to pull at the zipper at the top, letting it drag all the way down until the inside revealed itself. It was definitely roomy on the inside and you smiled in awe at how at the very least you got one of the best tents to sleep in out of everyone, even better than some of the chaperones.

“Wow…” Doyoung gaped next to you, eyes twinkling at the sight. “I’ve been going on this trip every year for the past 6 years and I’ve never gotten a tent as nice as this one.” Every year for 6 years? That meant that Doyoung had gone on this trip starting from when he was 12 years old.

“Damn dude, do you ever do anything else other than mess with the church?” Doyoung looked at you, puzzled at not only your choice of words but also what you were implying behind them.

“It’s not ‘messing with the church’, it’s surrounding one’s self with good people and positive influences. Something I’d recommend to the likes of you, Y/N. I never see you around, maybe that should change?” Doyoung responded with a lot more biting sarcasm than you thought the innocent looking boy could muster.

“Excuse you. I have a life that doesn’t revolve around parading around thinking I’m better just because I spend my weekends praising Jesus instead of living a normal life.” You shot back a sneer, not appreciating the tone he took with you so suddenly.

He shook his head and removed the look of disgust from his features, returning back to his usually small smile. “I’m sorry, this is no way to start a friendship. Sometimes people have reasons for doing what they do, but they always find their way back. After all, it’s the best medicine.”

“And here I thought the best medicine was laughter,” You chuckled and surprisingly, Doyoung had stifled a few of his own. So he did have a sense of humor, you thought. “Or sex. An orgasm is surprisingly helpful.” You shrugged your shoulders as you bent down to enter the tent, already decided that the right side would be yours. You hadn’t even taken in Doyoung’s reaction, already choosing to unpack the essentials before one of the volunteers whisked you away and forced you to do some “group bonding therapy” or something.

“We shouldn’t talk about… that.”

You turned to face him, finding Doyoung still at the entrance of the tent with his eyes cast down at his shuffling feet.

“About what?” You pause, “Sex?”

He answered with a small nod, still not meeting your eyes. You couldn’t help but scoff at the situation, no doubt exposing Doyoung as a diehard virgin with no intention to change that anytime soon. At least that meant you had some trust in him to not try anything while you slept or something.      

“Oh god, it’s perfectly natural. Nothing to freak out over.”

“And you shouldn’t take His name in vain either…” Doyoung trailed off, foot kicking away at the now unearthed dirt under his worn out sneakers.

“Well if I followed those philosophies, my weekends would be pretty boring and they’d certainly be very quiet.” You giggled at your own innuendos, since you were sure Doyoung wouldn’t get it or wouldn’t appreciate it.

Before he could respond to your brazen remarks, you two turned your heads in the direction of a megaphone amplifying one of the volunteer’s voices, stating that the first activity was due to begin in 10 minutes and that everyone should gather promptly.  

Doyoung shuffled into the tent and dropped off his things, not making any sort of contact with you. Giving up on all hopes of reigniting the conversation, you sighed and grabbed your phone before stepping out again. Even though there was essentially no use for your phone due to the lack of service where you were coupled with the fact that the chaperones frowned upon the use of them while on the trip, you still found comfort in having it with you. At the very least, you could have something to fiddle in your hands while you tried to keep your mind off the mind-numbingly boring games they’d make you play in hope it’d “cleanse” you.                

Doyoung trailed behind you, the only indication he was following was the light crunching of grass under his feet and the shadow that bobbed next to you as the sun angled its way down past the trees along the horizon. It’d already begun to get dark, the trek up to the campsite taking a lot longer than normal.

“Ah, Gopher Tent! Glad to see you two settled well, I presume?” The pastor addressed the two of you. You shrugged and gauged Doyoung’s reaction; he simply smiled and nodded. You guessed he was a better actor than you thought, so maybe he wasn’t all he seemed to be. “I trust you Doyoung, I know you’ll make smart choices while Y/N stays with you. We really appreciate it you know, those young ladies in Rabbit Tent are truly some wildcards that we’ll have to straighten out.” The pastor shook his head, deep in thought. Doyoung and you left him to stew in his mind, choosing to join the rest of slowly assembling kids that were surrounding what looked like an empty fire pit.

Already fumbling with your phone, you hear Doyoung murmur under his breath.

“You can’t have phones here.” You sneered and showed off your phone, as if to rub in his face that you can and will have your phone on hand. You were happily showing it off before it’s suddenly ripped out of your grip, the spaces in-between your fingers devoid of your phone. Whipping around, you’re met with one of the bitchier volunteers; a handsome man named Junmyeon.

“You’re not supposed to have this, are you aware of that Ms.Y/L/N?” You swore you heard Doyoung snickering behind you and you glare from your peripherals, hoping he could feel your rage behind the glimpse. “I’m going to have to confiscate this until the end of the trip, please try to stay focused on the purpose of being out here.” Junmyeon walked away after pocketing your phone. You gaped at him, not really believing he could just take your belongings so easily like that. Turning around, you crossed your arms across your chest and stared Doyoung down.

“Are you freaking serious? You couldn’t even warn me he was coming?” You seethed, watching as Doyoung continued to uselessly try to hide his laughs behind his hand.

“Shouldn’t have been brandishing it about like that. Now be quiet, I think they’re about to start.” He turned to face inside the circle, going on his toes to try and peek over the small crowd in front of you two. You vowed to make the next three days a living hell for this kid, whether he was a child of God or not.

 It was a sweltering 94 degrees outside, the sun relentlessly beating down on the wide open space you were staying in. The pastor had called for a break hour, understanding that the heat was too much for the young ones to bear so they were given an hour to rest in the shade of their tents with plenty of water.

This was one of the times you wish you had your phone, so you could at least play games on it or something other than just watching the heat waves trembling in the distance. Doyoung was scribbling away at a notebook he’d brought along with him. You fanned yourself with your hand, wishing you could will away the heat that clung to every inch of your skin.

Doyoung shot you a glare from across the tent, shaking his head and turning back to his useless scribbles on the page. Furrowing your brows, you ignore his passive aggressive tendencies and continue to try and cool off. Shucking off your t-shirt, you tug at the slick and sticky tank top you wore underneath. Half of you hated that you layered up but the other half of you was happy you did because you were able to remove something without revealing too much skin.

You missed how Doyoung snuck a glance in your direction when you tore off the offending piece of clothing, eyes raking across your tight body as sinful thoughts ran all through his mind. He tried to tamp them down, to keep sane even though your mere presence in the same radius had his head spinning. He wasn’t sure he was capable of doing this, the first time you two had went inside together being a severe enough warning that it’d be a lot easier said than done.

But he couldn’t voice his concerns, for everyone thought he was a pure and clean young adult. The last thing he wanted was to arise questions from your more-than-awkward sleeping arrangements. Despite the conditions, he really did appreciate the spacious tent; having dealt with his fair share of far too cramped conditions with more than enough hormonal teenagers going through the ugly bumps of puberty.

He could control himself, he was a good kid. He knew how to keep these sinful desires at bay, able to hold off the carnal needs inside of him because he was supposed to wait. Until he found someone “special”; the one who he’d spend the rest of his life with.

That was also easier said than done. Especially when life tested him time and time again with things like having the rotten luck of sharing a tent with you. Because no matter how much room was inside, the air was always stifling and he felt your presence constantly looming over him. He could feel his skin buzzing with the itch to touch you, to feel your body give under his pliant touch.

Now he had a little friend he’d have to hide.

He glanced over at you, shaky eyes checking to see if you had been paying any attention to him in the last few minutes as he shamefully let his mind get the best of him with filthy thoughts. You were laying on your back, eyes closed as you panted heavily. The heat was getting to you bad, resorting to constantly fanning yourself with anything at hand.

Doyoung shifted in his seat, trying to tug at the fabric of his shorts. The material did absolutely nothing to hide his rapidly growing erection.

Lately it had felt like you were constantly teasing him with your body, ever since you’d gotten your phone taken away two days ago. It was the last day already, and he’d been through enough.

There was swimming in the lake which was torture enough, even if you were wearing denim shorts and a t-shirt; the fabric still clung off your frame wetly much like a second skin, something straight out of the dirtiest fantasy Doyoung could ever muster up. His mouth went dry at the sight, having to excuse himself so quickly that he raised questions among the others.

Then there was when you were messing around with Joy and she’d thrown an ice cube down the front of your shirt. The cold made you jolt upright and scream, your first reaction was to get it out as quick as possible. Which meant you were tugging at the neckline of your top and flapping it wildly, exposing your now wet chest to him. He tried not to stare, he really did, but then you were hopping around because the damn ice cube was stuck and all he could see was your breasts bouncing wildly with every powerful jump.

It’d been the most he’d ever thought about sex in his entire life.

Usually when he got urges, he’d draw or scribble away at something. It would release his frustrations and tension and sometimes he’d get a nice piece of art out of it. But nothing was helping this time around, the feelings just too real and intense for him to just whisk away. Rarely did he take matters “into his own hands” but when it was just too much and he desperately needed the relief, he’d ask for forgiveness and go to town on himself. He hated how satisfied it made him but at the same time, he couldn’t help but think about doing it again. It was dangerous, to crave flesh so much. But it was you who became the tipping point, the push that sent him flying over the edge.

“Could you stop?” Doyoung began, seeing no other choice in getting you to leave him alone other than picking another fight. It was what worked, it’d make you storm out and go see Joy for a little while. Just enough time to take care of his issues.

You shot him a glare, tired of all the attitude he’d given you all this trip. He was most certainly not the angel people pegged him to be, you knew that much. But you never expected him to be so damn rude. Especially after how much you restrained yourself from beating him to a pulp with the way he treated you.

“Stop what? I’m not doing anything,”

“The fanning; it’s annoying and it’s moving the whole tent.”

“Well, I’m sorry but it’s really fucking hot and I’d rather not melt away into a puddle right here.”

There it was, the one chink in Doyoung’s armor. The language you used was nothing short of vulgar, not afraid to curse in every filthy way imaginable. At first it pissed him off, to see someone so ignorant that they’d willingly choose those words over any other words in their vocabulary. But soon he realized he’d get angry because of how hot it made him, the malice in your voice coupled with such sinful words; the thought alone brought him close to the edge. He couldn’t bear to hear you say more than a few words, knowing full and well that if you kept your big mouth open, there’d be no holding him back.

“Hello? You’re not even listening to me are you?” You stood and the strap of your tank top slid down your shoulder, revealing the contours of your collar bone. Doyoung eyed it precariously, knowing there was just a thin thread that held together his sanity and he was so sure he’d snap.

“Just please leave, I don’t want to fight right now.” Doyoung managed to asked, his voice slightly strained with the amount effort he had to put in order to not come off as desperate as he felt.

“You’re the one picking fights! I swear Doyoung, you’re just fucking weird and you have the nerve to call me annoying. Whatever, I’ll be with Joy and the little trouble triplets that she has to babysit. Let me know when you grow up,” You paused as you stepped out, turning to smirk at Doyoung. “Or grow a pair.”

You zipped up the tent and began to trudge away, heading in the direction of Rabbit Tent. The thing about your tent was that since it was bigger and you two were older, you got to have a little more peace and quiet. So this meant your tents were slightly further away from the others. You greatly appreciated this when you met with Joy one afternoon and realized just how rowdy some of the kids got. How anyone slept over there was beyond you.

Doyoung watched you step out and waited approximately one full minute before throwing his notebook off his lap and scrambling to reach into his dark maroon backpack, where he secretly had a miniature tablet. He’d given you shit for having your phone even though you had very little intentions of using it for its intended purpose, but here he was with a fully charged tablet (courtesy of the spare battery he brought) and a folder of downloaded low-quality porn already coming into view. Doyoung quickly chose a basic video, wanting nothing more than to get this over with.

Grainy but still effective, Doyoung jammed an earbud into his left ear and dipped his hand past his waistband. The overplayed moans rang in his ear as he wasted no time in wrapping a hand around himself and pumped deftly. He bit his lip to muffle any sort of sound, knowing he was still in a thin tent outside.

The girl was like every other two-bit porn star, clad in basically nothing as she wildly jumped up and down on some random guy’s dick. The visual wasn’t much for Doyoung, nor was the sound. Truth of the matter was that he was thinking about you; the sounds you made while you slept, the way your shirts always seemed to expose more than they actually covered. The porn was just a cover, a way to make his mind believe he wasn’t lusting after you so much that he was making up his own fantasies.

He was reckless, letting himself succumb to the base pleasure of his hand. He was weak, letting his eyes roll back as his eyelids closed tightly. He was stupid, for doing this in the first place.

At least that’s what he thought the minute he heard you speak.

“What. The. Fuck?”

You were halfway inside the tent, one foot in already as you stood frozen at the sight in front of you. Doyoung’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he scrambled to get his hand out of his pants. He sputtered and stuttered, tripping over both his words and own feet as he struggle to stand. Apologies and defenses were already stumbling out of his mouth, his eyes pleading you to forget all about it.

“No, no, no. Seriously, Doyoung. What the fuck?” You repeated, now fully in the tent. Doyoung’s mouth hung open, at a loss of words as to what else to say.

This was it, he’d get ratted it out and punished for being so sinful. He’d get in so much trouble, from both the pastor and his parents. He’d never live it down.

“All that trouble, all because you wanted to jerk off? Why couldn’t you have just asked? Seriously dude,” You walked past him and reached for your bag where you had a bag of trail mix that you had originally came back for. “And don’t think I’m not mad at you for being a fucking hypocrite, you should at least share your damn tablet since you made me lose my phone.”

Doyoung couldn’t believe how casual you were about all of this. He was just sinning, doing something he’d always seen as wrong. And yet, you couldn’t care less?

“But… aren’t you angry that I’m doing that?” He tried to gesture the motions as appropriately as he could.

“For what? Masturbating?” Doyoung cringed at the word. You chuckled at his obvious feelings towards the situation. “Dude, it’s normal. Everyone does it. Even me.” He tried not to dwell on the fact that you admitted to doing the same as him, knowing it’d be no good in helping his little friend go away. “Seriously Doyoung, don’t stress about it. If you needed some alone time, you could’ve just said something.” Your previous anger dissipated, realizing that Doyoung seemed to be truly ashamed to be doing it despite how normal it was.

“But it wasn’t even the fact I was doing it…” He trailed off, suddenly unable to maintain eye contact with you.

“Then what was it?” You inquired, stepping closer to Doyoung as he shifted nervously on his feet. He went back to biting his lip and the closer you got to him, the harder it got to breathe. He couldn’t utter the words he had brewing in his throat, feeling the tent get hotter and hotter as seconds grew into minutes.

“Was it maybe what you were thinking while doing it? Because, by the looks of your cheap porn stash, I don’t think that was doing the trick for you.” You smirked, having him in the palm of your hand.

You couldn’t deny the odd sense of attraction you had for the boy, maybe it was his boyishly good looks or just the fact that he was so innocent, so pure; you had wanted to ruin him. So maybe to spite him, you’d been extra touchy. You had worn a little less and flirted some. He seemed oblivious to it all and you just assumed he was immune to a woman’s charms, but clearly he hadn’t been as unaffected as you originally thought. Not if the tent in his pants were anything to go by.

So maybe you could keep having some fun. After all, Doyoung still desperately needed the relief and you’ve been so bored the past few days that this seemed like some good fun. Not like you didn’t need some relief too, it had been a particularly hard trip to stay “celibate” on.

You boldly reached forward, cupping Doyoung’s length in his khaki shorts. He tensed in an instant, eyes shooting up to meet your own.

“Do you want me to help you? Obviously that video wasn’t working, but maybe this will?” You began to massage the muscle, feeling how hot and heavy it already was. He couldn’t control how it twitched against your fingers, the feeling of someone else’s hand on him for the first time taking him places he’d never thought he’d go. “Or do you want me to stop? I can leave and you can get right back to where you were with the chick on the screen. I’ll forget I saw anything and you can act like nothing happened.”

You gave him a choice, one that he really should’ve spent more time thinking about. But honestly, the blood wasn’t going to his brain at the moment and he really needed some relief, and fast.

His voice was small, weak. It fueled the dominance in your mind, “Help me… please.” He begged.

You nearly purred at the sound, moving quick to get down in the tent. You tugged at his arm to follow, his expression confused at your action.

“C’mon stupid, if you’re standing while I do this, our shadow is gonna give us away.” You giggled, watching as the cogs began to turn in Doyoung’s mind and he realized what you were implying. Once he sat down, you placed your hands on either of his thighs, leaning forward to capture his mouth in a searing lip-lock. The action had surprised Doyoung, having only have kissed a few women; most of which were family members and had been chaste, quick pecks meant to say hello or goodbye. “Loosen up Doyoung,” you murmured into the kiss, feeling as Doyoung exhaled before letting some of his tense muscles go.

Letting your hands trail up, you slowly returned to feeling him up over his pants. This time Doyoung felt more pliant under your hands, worry melting off his bones as you two continued to kiss languidly. Your tongues slowly met, Doyoung’s tentative movements making you sigh a few giggles into his mouth at the damn inexperience you were dealing with.

Deciding to forego all sorts of foreplay, since this entire trip felt like foreplay in itself, you made quick work of the buttons of his pants. Doyoung watched as you pulled away to reach inside his underwear and tug out his member into the hot outdoor air. He had no time to process anything, feeling instant bliss when your hot breath fanned over his cock. It jumped at the attention, Doyoung feeling every muscle go numb as all his senses focused on the feeling of you hovering over his length.

“Mmm, are you ready?” You sensually hummed over him, watching him through lidded eyes. You looked like sin itself and at this point, Doyoung forgot all about the church and his readings and everything; his mind fogged with the sex haze you dropped on him. He numbly nodded, his throat tight with anticipation at what he’d only seen in porn.

You slowly kissed along his length, gentle butterfly kisses that made Doyoung jerk every time your warm lips met his skin. His breath came out labored, shuddering heaves that followed light whimpers as your mouth continued its descent down to the base of his cock. You made sure to make eye contact with Doyoung before you flattened your tongue against the underside of his length and slowly dragged it up all the way to the tip, which was now leaking heavily. His fluids coated the swollen and red head, pooling in a glistening glaze over the surface.

Tongue racing to catch every drop, Doyoung let his hand cover his mouth as an uncontrollable groan left his lips. He tried to hold back but you were steadily making him teeter on the edge of coming, when you had barely even done anything. His stamina was no doubt garbage, inexperience coming back to haunt him.

If he could, he’d have taken up every offer any girl had given him in the past; all the chances he passed up for someone to take care of him. He’d have built up some resistance at this point, able to hold back from coming embarrassingly premature.

But he hadn’t, and you had just suckled in the tip of his hard length before Doyoung reached for your head and tightened his fingers in your hair. He came with a shout, the act surprising you so you shut your mouth out of instinct which led to his come splattering all over your mouth and face. Scrunching your eyes shut, you braced yourself for rest of his load, waiting until his grip softened in your hair to finally pry one open to check on Doyoung.

He had his head thrown back as he laid limply against his sleeping bag, fingers clutched tightly on the crunchy fabric now instead in your hair. He panted heavily as air failed to fill his lungs, tremors still racking his system from the intense pleasure of the sudden orgasm. You let Doyoung catch his breath, taking a moment for yourself to clean up around your face.

Mumbling to yourself, you looked around for something to clean the come off with, a good amount just in your hand as you scraped more and more off your cheekbones. Doyoung lifted his head to catch you contemplating in thought, finding it sort of cute how you looked around like a lost puppy but still looked absolutely filthy with his release left glazing your face.

Catching his eyes, you watch as Doyoung’s eyes trailed along the span of your visage, no doubt looking at every drop of his come sprinkled on your face. Deciding to toy with him just a bit more, you take the hand that is covering in his come and raised it to your mouth, roaming your lips and circling them for a moment before dipping in the coated digits inside. Doyoung’s eyes widened as he watched your fingers disappear past your lips, his cock twitching valiantly at the sight.

“Y/N…” He mumbled, heart racing a million miles a minute. You slurped the substance of your fingers before bringing them out with a lewd pop, his release gone but now clear saliva coated your fingers.

“Doyoung,” You began, gauging his reaction for the next few words you were carefully going to say. “Do you mind if you help me out too? I can show you what to do, what makes me feel good.”

Doyoung hesitated, unsure if he’d be able to go on to do what you were asking of him. After all, he had absolutely no experience and he’d already done enough sinning to last him a life time. But as they say: Go Big or Go Home.

He nodded slowly, watching with trained eyes as you smiled and took his hand, guiding him to hover over you as you laid on your back. Before you could proceed, Doyoung stopped you with a hand and reached into his open duffle bag, pulling out a dark t-shirt. He silently and gently wiped at your face, kindly cleaning the remains of his release without even being asked.

You giggled at the sincerity, his manners overcoming the lust inside the tent, which felt suddenly much more cramped and intimate than it had in the past few days.

“Okay, okay,” You batted his hands away from your face, laughing at how sweet he was being. “That’s enough, I’m clean enough. Let’s get a move on, please?” Doyoung smiled and nodded, setting the shirt away from the two of you before returning to hover over you, kneeling in-between your spread legs.

He sat back on his haunches and awaited for your next commanding, an eager student ready to learn how to make your writhe in pleasure like you had done for him. Giving him a warm smile, you tugged your shirt off and watched as Doyoung’s eyes quickly began to take in the sight of your nearly nude torso, the only remaining piece of offending clothing being your bra.

“Did you want this off?” You purred, letting your hands toy with the straps of your navy blue bra, enjoying seeing the lust-driven gaze from the male in front of you. He nodded and you wasted no time arching your back and reaching to unclasp the brassiere, sliding off the loosened straps off your shoulders once it was unfastened. It seemed like nature overtook Doyoung’s senses as he lunged forward and latched his mouth on a pert nipple, his other hand naturally finding the other and already began to tug and toy with it. The action surprised you and you couldn’t help but gasp out loud, covering your mouth as a hasty afterthought.

Doyoung had little self-control at this point, running solely on instinct as he teethed harshly around your breast, no doubt leaving red and slightly purple indentions along the skin. Whining his name in a higher pitch than you would’ve liked to, Doyoung understood your need and switched to the other side, giving the other neglected nipple some nibbles before pulling away completely.

“Y/N, what now?” Doyoung breathlessly asked, his lips a puffy pink from using them against your skin so harshly. You felt your core heat up even more at the sight of the boy so utterly wrecked, all because of you. Motioning for him to slide down further, you began to make work of the buttons on your bottoms, tearing them off quickly and not giving Doyoung a chance to even land a finger on them before they were off. Leaving you in a pair of plaid boyshorts, Doyoung had rested his hot palms on the bones of your hips, letting his fingers mindlessly circle there until he received further instruction.

This was heaven to him, having never been so close to a woman; especially not one as needy for him as you were in that moment. He could nearly smell your arousal from where he was knelt, the fabric of your underwear clearly soaked and dark with your slick. He felt his mouth water at the sight, his hormones raging inside and making his mind whirl with filthy thoughts of you in too many naughty positions to count.

You were leaning back on your hands, watching intently as Doyoung’s eyes were drawn to your dripping sex, and you couldn’t help but let a breathless whisper ghost across your lips.

“Kiss me.”

Doyoung’s head snapped up at the request, eyes softening at your visage and he leaned forward with his palms now cradling your face gently, in a way you’d only expect Doyoung to do. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, passion evident yet it was strangely tame despite the awfully tense atmosphere. It was mostly an exchange of breaths, mixed with intoxicating brushes of tongue before Doyoung was already pulling away; sooner than you honestly would’ve liked.

“Teach me, c’mon. I want to make you feel good.” Doyoung requested, his strangely gruff voice making you shiver in anticipation for what his eager self could do to you. You laid back down, telling Doyoung to do what he wanted with your underwear, if he wanted them on or off. Doyoung pondered for a moment, thinking of how close he wanted to be to you.

Finally making a split-second decision, you felt his soft hand caressing your thighs before his digits wormed under your waistband and he gently pulled your underwear down your legs and off you. You obliged with his decision, shivering at the cold air that suddenly stroked your heat. You could hear Doyoung humming under his breath, almost like he was counting his breaths in order to keep sane. Your eyes had slid shut unconsciously so you were surprised by the sudden feeling of warm puffs in-between your legs. Eyes snapping open, you bring your head up to watch as Doyoung curiously let his tongue poke out to taste you, the combination of the sight and feeling of it making you ache for more.

“Doyoung… please.” Your voice was brittle, weak like the half-broken branches hanging off the trees outside your tent, one small gust of wind away from breaking off completely and disappearing into the dark brush underneath.

It felt like Doyoung chuckled against you, a small puff of air striking your folds and making you instantly turn into mush; putty in his inexperienced hands. Doyoung let his subconscious take over, hoping all the videos and gossip he’d seen and heard about eating a girl out gave him enough knowledge to at least make you come.

The first thing that came to his mind was the “Alphabet Method” where he would outline letters of the alphabet with his tongue against your folds. He had heard of this through some rowdy boys whom spoke a little too loud for public courtesy but it gave Doyoung an earful of how effective this method was. At least, it seemed effective if Hoseok proudly retelling his friends how he had Wendy going wild when he did it to her was anything to go by.

He began to spell random words, things like ‘cat’, ‘round’ and ‘water’. He found that you responded best to the letters that had curves in them, gauging your reactions by going back and forth between them. Your legs tightened around his head and your fisted your hands into the sleeping bag as Doyoung continued to work past his inexperience, though if you had to admit, he surely didn’t seem inexperienced by how well he was eating you out.

You continued to hiccup a mantra of his name, followed by gasps and mumbled curses as Doyoung let his hands spread you out a little further so he could tongue you deeper. His pink muscle probed inside you and his nose bumped against your clit so well that you couldn’t help but thrust up in his hold, seeking out friction on the nub once more.

As much as it pained you to admit; Doyoung was good. He had a natural ability of giving oral, and it was making your head spin.  You felt your release drawing near, your breaths coming quicker as Doyoung sensed your walls spasming around his tongue. Your tight core hugged his tongue as he fucked you even harder with his tongue, abandoning the letters and choosing to simply attack you as much as he could with his mouth. He pulled away to latch his soft lips around your clit, sucking harshly and making you choke on your breath and clench your hands deep into his chestnut hair.

“D-Doyoung, I’m close—please, oh my god—I’m gonna come!” You whimpered, trying to pull his mouth off your clit where he had showed no mercy on the nerves. Doyoung rode out your high right there, still suckling on your most sensitive area as you loudly gasped his name, back arching into a deep set curve as you come harder than you’re sure you ever had in your entire life. Whatever natural ability Doyoung had in sex, it came as not only a surprise but also a relief to you because it gave you such a euphoric high with minimal to no awkward lessons or transitions.

Doyoung had imitated the sound you made when you had sucked your fingers into your mouth, a soft pop from his lips unhinging from your clit as he pulled off. He let his eyes trail up your glistening body and made eye contact with you, a small smirk toying on his lips. Your eyes rolled back as you let your tired and breathless body collapse back down against the floor of the tent.

Doyoung expressed the same kindness and courtesy from earlier and cleaned up between your legs, your release soaking up his t-shirt from earlier. He gently pulled your underwear back on, waiting until enough energy surged through you to lift your hips so he could tug the fabric back over your lower body.

The afterglow was nice; calm and peaceful. It was filled with the sound of your panting breaths, the crickets chirping outside and the gentle breeze rustling the leaves on the trees. Doyoung quietly shifted until he laid next to you, hands brushing away the sweat slicked hairs that stuck to your face to tuck them behind your ears.

After a few moments, Doyoung finally let his voice break the semi-silence inside the tent.

“Good?”

You hummed a response which Doyoung seemed to deem as enough before he reached over and covered your body and his in a fleece blanket. The heat had dissipated during your ‘session’ as evening began its slow crawl into the deep of night.

It was the last night you’d be out here, under the stars.

What a way to spend it, you thought as Doyoung snuggled close to you. You’d deal with the consequences of your actions later, choosing to enjoy the tender moment and sleep the noises of the night away alongside Doyoung.

This night was quiet—peaceful, even—much like your newly developed relationship with the boy whom you had gotten all wrong. But like the stars slowly appearing in the dark cerulean sky, your feelings for each other were bleeding into focus, in small pinpricks and pixels.

A pace you two could work with, surely.

[saleintothe90s]

269. 96 Things About 1996 part 9

(part 8)

81. Beck Weathers 

Dr. Beck Weathers was stuck on Mount Everest during a blizzard in May of 1996, 8 people wound up dying from exposure from the blizzard.  When found after descending to a camp on the mountain, fellow hikers  believed that he was so frostbitten and ill from exposure that he would die that night. The group tried to make Weathers comfortable in his last hours. However, he beat the odds and survived. He was guided to a helocopter and was flown to a hospital. Weathers nose, fingers on both hands, his right arm, and parts of his feet were all lost to frostbite. 

He still worked as a pathologist, in a 2003 interview:

You adjust to doing things differently. God bless Velcro and elastics. But anything that requires fingers, I can’t do. I have a gal Friday who is a master’s-level physician’s assistant, specifically trained in the area of pathology, and what she offers is almost exactly what I can’t do. I hate to say that we have a hand-and-glove relationship, but that’s essentially how it works.

82. Mommy gets a new haircut (May 23)

After 36 years with the same frumpy bob, Mommy finally has a new 'do.

Today, comics readers get their first look at the make-over of the character in the popular comic strip "Family Circus." The author of the strip, Bil Keane of Paradise Valley, Ariz., apparently decided to update her hair after a reader complained that the pointy chin-length cut Mommy has had since the feature's debut in 1960 was old-fashioned. 1

Here’s a story from the person who suggested to Bil Keane that Mommy needed a new haircut. Did you know what Mommy’s name is Thelma? Did you know that Family Circus takes place in Scottsdale, Arizona?

83. Steve Forbes runs for President (and hosts Saturday Night Live)

Businessman, and Forbes magazine founder, Steve Forbes tried to run for president as a Republican with a “flat tax” campaign. He won Arizona and Delaware! 

He also, bizarrely hosted Saturday Night Live in April of 1996. Here he is with Molly Shannon and some giant Florida Bugs. 

(I cannot find the original source for this image) 

84. The “Boulder” WalMart 

No no no, not in Boulder, Colorado. This was a WalMart in Dickson City, Pennsylvania that shut down suddenly due to safety precautions -- because a boulder rolled into it in December of 1996.

DICKSON CITY -- The company that warns customers to "watch out for falling prices" had to close a store Tuesday because of falling boulders.    The Wal-Mart store on Route 6 in Dickson City closed on the recommendation of an engineering firm hired to investigate a continuing problem with boulders rolling from the adjacent Bell Mountain.    A Wal-Mart spokeswoman at the corporate headquarters in Bentonville, Ark., said Wednesday that store officials are looking for another location and hope to reopen by the weekend, the last of the Christmas shopping season.    One of the boulders at the back of the store was taller than the building.  2

The property stayed abandoned for 20 years until the Wegmans grocery store nearby bought the property so the eyesore could be removed.  It was torn down just in November.

85. Motorola StarTac Phone (January 3)

(aka, the “Frasier Phone” ... ok, only I called it that. Frasier & Niles Crane were early adopters of the phone)

(source)

Arriving right at the beginning of 1996, the StarTac was the first “gotta have it” phone.

86. Apple is not up for sale (1/24)

87. “Apple Doesn’t Fall” closes after one performance (4/16)

“The Apple Doesn't Fall . . .," a comedy by Trish Vradenburg, closed on Sunday after one performance at the Lyceum Theater, 149 West 45th Street. Directed by Leonard Nimoy and starring Margaret Whitton and Florence Stanley, it had 19 previews. 3

88. Jeff Foxworthy & Sinbad hosted the American Music Awards (January)

(source)

89. Martin has a mental breakdown (5/8)

With a pistol in his pocket, comedian Martin Lawrence ran into traffic on busy Ventura Boulevard in Sherman Oaks on Tuesday, cursing and screaming at oncoming cars until he was taken away by police and hospitalized, authorities and witnesses said.

Lawrence, star of the television sitcom "Martin" and the films "Bad Boys" and "A Thin Line Between Love & Hate," was found in the middle of Ventura Boulevard at Tyrone Avenue about 12:30 p.m., said Sgt. Bert Mora of the Los Angeles Police Department.

After police restrained Lawrence, he was taken to Sherman Oaks Hospital and Health Center and later released to his personal physician, Dr. William Young of Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, Mora said.

A witness--who declined to be identified but who said he was an acquaintance of Lawrence--said the actor was cursing, waving his hands and yelling, "Fight the establishment!" He said Lawrence ran out of the street when police arrived and tried to fight them off when they attempted to restrain him. 4

90. Woody gets arrested for planting seeds (6/1) 

91. HoTMaiL Launches (7/4)

In June the product was ready to launch, at that time they had 15 employees working for them. They launched it on July 4, 1996 - Independence Day - as Sabeer and jack thought free email was a great Independent idea and populist tool. Every body who owned a computer had their own email accounts, but with webmail, they could log on from anywhere in the world. The first users found it all by themselves and then it spread like a forest fire. there were 100 in first hour, 200 in second hour and 250 in third hour. the idea was so intuitively powerful that 80% of those who signed up for Hotmail; learned about it from a friend. 5

92. Jackie Stern 

Florida man wears medal without honor

Stern December 4, 1996 Web posted at: 8:20 a.m. EST From Correspondent Robert Vito

FORT LAUDERDALE, Florida (CNN) -- Wherever 67-year-old Jackie Stern went in this south Florida community, he brought along his Medal of Honor, awarded by Congress to military personnel who have risked life in combat beyond the call of duty.

Speeches to Gulf War veterans, war stories at police stations and appearances at public occasions were all ripe moments for Stern to share his heroic past.

The only problem with Stern's highly visible patriotism is that he was living a lie. He had not earned the Medal of Honor -- he had bought it.

"He marched around in parades. He came around reviewing ROTC troops, even coming in here to get photographed wearing the medal," said Sgt. Dan Ciacciarelli of the Broward County Sheriff's Department. "He's pretty brazen."

For nearly 10 years, Stern bragged he had won the medal for bravery in the Korean War. He even went so far as to include a prisoner of war tag on the front of his car and a license plate on the back bearing a purple heart.

But in real military life, 'Captain' Jack Stern never made it past private.

Eventually Stern's public displays provoked suspicion among some in the community. His tall tale unraveled when police learned he had never even set foot on a continent where the U.S. was involved in a conflict.

Faced with the truth, Stern pleaded guilty to federal charges involving the unearned medal of honor.

In a federal courtroom, the former bread truck driver and polygraph operator apologized to veterans. He said his actions had been stupid and pitiful.

His son blamed his father's behavior on a massive stroke in 1985 that left him partially paralyzed.

Stern said he bought the medal at a military show for $800. The medal turned out to be authentic but not officially issued.

Stern could have been sentenced to six months in jail; instead, the judge placed him on one year's probation and ordered him to write letters of apology to the 171 surviving recipients of the Medal of Honor. 6

Here’s more info on other guys who have posed as Medal of Honor winners. 

93. Charlie Sheen’s Home Run Night (4/21)

According to the Los Angeles Times, actor Charlie Sheen paid $5,000 for a chance at Anaheim Stadium. He bought all the seats behind the left-field fence for a recent game between the California Angels and Detroit Tigers in hopes of catching a ball.

Sheen sat with three friends on an aisle about 20 rows up, pounding a glove in anticipation of a home run that never came.

"Anybody can catch a foul ball. I want to catch a fair ball," Sheen said.

He chose to set himself apart from the crowd because "I didn't want to crawl over the paying public. I wanted to avoid the violence." 7

94. Febreze is test marketed

Procter & Gamble Co. will begin test marketing Febreze Fabric Refresher May 20. P&G said Febreze, which can be used on clothing or upholstery, uses a proprietary technology to trap odor molecules from such sources as cigarette smoke, pets or cooking. TV and print ads by Grey Advertising, highlighting situations where Febreze can be used, will run in the Phoenix; Boise, Idaho; and Salt Lake City test markets. 8

95. Keith Luecke

She's a kid. Sitting in Judge William Walker's courtroom last week, Alecia Campbell watched the room fill with television cameras. She watched as the man accused of corrupting her minced into the room, hobbled by an ankle chain. Her blunt features were shiny, no makeup, not even lipstick. Maybe she's not allowed. Her mother was there, looking grim. Alecia chewed gum.

Is she a troubled child? Is she incorrigible? I don't know. But I know she is 14 years old. And she looks and acts her age.

He is a 34-year-old man who left his wife and seven children to live with an eighth-grade girl in a sleazy motor lodge.

[...]

The court will see whether he is guilty of breaking the law. Here's what I saw. He repeatedly winked and smiled at the young girl sitting across the courtroom from him. He mouthed the words, ''I love you'' twice, ''I miss you'' once.

He avoided the eyes of Chris Luecke, his wife of 12 years. She sat quietly, resting one freckled arm along the back of the pew-like seat about 6 inches from Alecia's face. Her eyes, blue almost violet, missed nothing.

Leaving the courtroom, Mrs. Luecke walked directly across the street to her attorney's office to file for divorce. 9

---

BATAVIA, OHIO BATAVIA, Ohio (AP) _ A former church youth director who once taught a program called ``True Love Waits'' was sentenced Wednesday to at least 12 years in prison for having an affair with a 13-year-old girl.

Keith Luecke, 33, pleaded guilty to child stealing and corrupting a minor.

He met Alecia Campbell, now 15, when she began dating Luecke's son, and they disappeared together for 78 days after he was to have appeared in court on charges related to their relationship in April.

They were found by authorities on June 28 at a motel in Hanahan, S.C.

``I pray that God brings peace to you and your family,'' Luecke said to the girl's family. ``To Alecia, I never meant to harm you or cause you pain, because I do love you.'' 10

96. This comic. 

cuz people used to joke that Bob Dole was too old. He’s still alive 21 years later! 

So I’m finally done with this series. It took way longer than I had anticipated. I didn’t think it would be this hard to come up with 96 minor things about 1996! 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 

Facebook | Etsy | Retail History Blog | Twitter | snapchat (thelastvcr) | other tumblr @thelastvcr

Sources: 

1. Baum, Geraldine, “Mommy Finally Makes the Cut,” Los Angeles Times, May 23, 1996. http://articles.latimes.com/1996-05-23/news/ls-7412_1_cutting-edge

2. Turfa, Palmela C. “PRICES AREN'T ALL THAT FALL AT WAL-MART BOULDERS TUMBLING FROM NEARBY MOUNTAIN LEAD TO CLOSING OF STORE IN SCRANTON AREA,” Times Leader, December 19, 1996. http://archives.timesleader.com/1996/1996_21/1996_12_19_PRICES_AREN_T_ALL_THAT_FALL_AT_WAL_MART_BOULDERS_TUMBLING_FROM_N.html 3. “The Apple’ Closes,” New York Times, April 16, 1996.  http://www.nytimes.com/1996/04/16/theater/the-apple-closes.html

4. Ramirez, Margaret, “Comedian Martin Lawrence Runs Into Street, Yells at Cars,” Los Angeles Times, May 8, 1996.  http://articles.latimes.com/1996-05-08/local/me-1744_1_comedian-martin-lawrence

5. “Sabeer Bhatiya, Los Angeles, Large Indian Company, Scott Mc Nealy MBA'80, Steve Wozniak and Marc Andreesen, Sabeer Bhatiya : The founder of "Hotmail.com": Is He Great or Is He Lucky..., Sabeer Bhatiya, Los Angeles, Large Indian Company, Scott Mc Nealy MBA'80, Steve Wozniak and Marc Andreesen, Apple Computers, Jack Smith, American Online account, web - HOTMAIL, Microsoft's financial muscles.” Accessed January 28, 2016. http://classic-web.archive.org/web/20070210043942/http://4to40.com/legends/print.asp?id=131

6. Vito, Robert. Florida man wears medal without honor,” CNN.com, December 4, 1996, accessed January 28, 2017, http://www.cnn.com/US/9612/04/medal.without.honor/. 

7. “Money Can't Buy Home-Run Ball,” Seattle Times, April 23, 1996. http://community.seattletimes.nwsource.com/archive/?date=19960423&slug=2325536

8. “P&G tests Febreze,” Advertising Age,  May 9, 1996. http://adage.com/article/news/p-g-tests-febreze/18446/

9. Pulfer, Laura, “The twisted journey of Keith Luecke,” Cincinnati Enquirer, July 14, 1996. http://enquirer.com/columns/pulfer/1996/07/071496_lp.html

10. “AT CHILD-STEALING SENTENCING, MAN PROFESSES LOVE FOR TEEN-AGE GIRL,” Associated Press, November 20, 1996. http://www.apnewsarchive.com/1996/At-Child-Stealing-Sentencing-Man-Professes-Love-for-Teen-Age-Girl/id-d61b3fbcdf39586a009d4a9dc4f582e1

[thespookydoor]

Journey Into Darkness 2

This was a dream I had earlier one summer, and back then it lingered with me a lot, just because of all the creepy and disturbing things it alluded to, and that feeling I’ve had several times in my life, as if I had taken a brief, but eventful, jaunt through someone else’s nightmare: …It starts out innocently enough, with me hanging out with some old friends at some mall or entertainment district. We’re at some weirdly-arranged, multi-level theater, having just finished watching one movie, and trying to decide what to see next. Hallways, ramps and stairways, interspersed with displays and animatronic cartoon animals, even a video arcade, like some children’s theme park, with only vague signs pointing the way, and somehow I get separated from everyone else, despite having just boasted of knowing my way around the place better than any of the others. After going up a couple flights of stairs, I find myself at this closed-up gift shop. It’s dark, and everything’s turned off, an entire inventory of items gathering dust on the shelves, yet for some reason, the door is wide open, so I wander in, most likely drawn by my own curiosity. It appeared to have been connected in some way with the theater and the other stuff, yet something about its atmosphere goes from forlorn to unsettling the farther back I explore. It’s not just that everything’s dusty and neglected, it’s a feeling of walking through some predator’s territory and into its lair. At first, it would be hard to describe, as there are no outward signs, just the sense of the place somehow becoming seedier, weedier, a vibe hinting at a history of decadence that feels jarringly out of place with what a kiddy-themed store is supposed to be about. It’s in the dingy back rooms that things take a turn for the ugly, starting with a desk calendar. You know the type— scantily clad girls, usually posing on or in front of cars— commonplace among auto mechanics, plumbers and other mostly middle-age male occupations, only the bound poses displayed in these ones would surely never pass muster with even the most lax “family friendly” workplace. Looking for all the world as if sicko decided to make a bunch of concentration camp victims pose for these ones. Followed by stuffed mascot animals hanging from nooses, or dismembered and lying in piles of their own stuffing in the corners, broken bottles, and mysterious dark stains my eyes refuse to linger on. By now, I’m not even sure why I’m venturing further into this den of depravity whose demented history already seems to be seeping into my mind, as if every corner of this place is desperately screaming of the wrongness visited upon it, both as a warning, and, I think, a cry for help of sorts. The shop itself is on the second or third storey of the place, with a big bank of windows overlooking the interior of what looks like some kind of museum or gallery, with various displays spread across the floor. There is an open stairway leading up, with both the beginning and the first landing marked with “CLOSED” signs hanging on chains across the steps, but hearing a commotion upstairs, I skip over them and go up. Above the shop, I find what seems to be a combination of business offices and personal quarters, all of it occupied by a group of sinister men in business suits, who appear to be having some sort of secret “party” here, unbeknownst to the rest of the mall/park proper. All around this level, I see evidence of drugs, torture, and other mayhem that I somehow already know has been concealed from the public here for a long time, almost certainly by someone on the inside of this company. With a strong hint of “No Witnesses” by the end of each gathering. I don’t know how else to describe these Bad Business men as anything less than slimy, degenerate Good Ol’ Boy types, and somehow their “guests of honor” have gotten out of their rooms, a group of young women who look like they seriously want to be anywhere else right about now, and are being chased around by their “hosts” with a total lack of festive pretense. The next part is a blur of violence, blocking doors, using objects as improvised weapons, and just generally taking the fight back to these monsters any which way I can. Holding them off by any means I can muster, hoping any of the captives might escape from this splintering of separate, desperate struggles throughout the level. At this point, the camera changes focus, following a young woman as she makes it to the stairs I came up earlier, one of the Good Ol’ Boys in hot pursuit, cussing and screaming that she can’t be allowed to get out, no matter what. But she completely eludes him by jumping off the landing and onto a bi-plane hanging on display in the gallery floor below, dropping onto a car display, then to the floor, making it to the entrance before her pursuer can get very far past the stairs. She then runs down the street, the other guy quickly giving up the pursuit once she got outside, apparently not wanting to draw attention to himself. From the there, the dream skips a bit, and when she turns up again, she’s working an under-the-table job as a bike messenger. Hair dyed, bike helmet, dark glasses. Not wanting to go back to her family or friends, for fear of some apparently very scary folks going to very scary lengths to keep their dirty secrets. Too afraid of going to the authorities against some very powerful and entrenched people without any proof. At one point, she meets an older lady, a friend of the family, who recognizes her, and she very curtly tries to cut the conversation short at every turn, even as the lady keeps asking her if she needs help, desperate to not have anyone she cares about possibly be seen with her, such are the kind of predators she’s hiding from. She finally loses the other lady, heading back out onto the street to continue what amounts to a ceaseless flight, never staying in the same place for long, when things take a turn for the worst. And the weird. It’s creepy, trying to describe what she runs into, so perhaps it’s best to simply go for the direct approach. Having passed into a run-down neighborhood, after dark, she spots two figures sitting on a park bench, sharing a 40 ounce brown bag of something. The first is troubling, yet hardly out of place in this setting, a very shifty police officer, whose reputation is surely as tarnished as his badge, and feels like bad news at first sight. Yet it’s the second figure that quickly grabs her attention, as he seems completely out of place anywhere humans claim to be even remotely civilized. Tattered, rotting dress suit, on a lanky scarecrow frame, claw-like hands… And a big, squat pumpkin head. His face a blazing, flickering— and, most unsettling of all, animated— Jack-O-Lantern, moving and shifting like some warped animatronic come to life. Although I pick up no specific details of their conversation, the two of them seem to a be having a crass, callous laugh about something, I suspect, past exploits above that closed-down gift shop, as if the atrocities there were their chief form of amusement, while the girl tries to walk away as if she hadn’t see him. But he has, and calls out to her, gesturing for the crooked cop to scoot over and let her sit between them, making it more than obvious that he knows who she is. When she backs away, he laughs, telling her something along the lines of “We’re not gonna do anything to you here,” but she still wisely keeps her distance even as he talks and acts like her experience in that building was a fun getaway or something. During this brief exchange, he seems to make no great secret that he’s the one who organized the “parties” up in that building, apparently finding no shortage of sleazy characters willing to pay for his services, and that the company that runs the place is too scared to confront him directly about any of it. As if he is not only above the law, but as if he is somehow beyond the reach of any of its agents, as well, speaking openly of matters most criminals who’ve done only a slice of his deeds would dare to say aloud at risk of being recorded. Yet still suggesting that she’s a “loose end” his boys need to tie up, lest things get complicated. After that tense confrontation, the girl flees again, the monstrous creature on the bench laughing at her in the distance, assuring her in an encouraging tone that she can only run so far… …That’s the last part I remember before I woke up. I’m not sure what lingers with me more, that creepy abandoned store, with all its sordid goings-on, or the creature on that bench, as he seemed to be a being of unfathomable depravity, a sadistic mind so warped, it has passed the limits of even the most demented human beings. There were depths of insanity flickering inside that pumpkin head that seemed to burn away at the minds of anyone who looked upon that fiery visage for very long. The whole thing felt skewed, as if I was being exposed to someone else’s fears, dreads, and terrors. More than anything, a sense of relief that he himself wasn’t present at the time when I helped that girl escape, because that wasn’t one of those dreams where I have super-powers and could bash that pumpkin skull of his in like someone should have done to him a long time ago, it was one of those rough, desperate, visceral dreams, where, rather than an action-adventure mode, here I was fighting for my own life right alongside those captives. Weirdly enough, I wasn’t terribly worried for myself after I woke up, and seeing as how I’m still alive and awake and dreaming about other things in the meantime, I think it’s safe to say that I managed to escape from the whole mess okay on my end. Still, I’m haunted by the inconclusive ending, and the feeling that whatever was going on in that twisted place continues unchallenged, while she decides what to do next. Although the whole bicycle messenger thing reminded me a little of Witch Hunter Robin, as for the girl herself, I can’t help thinking of Heather from Silent Hill 3, especially that feeling of being stuck with that no-win choice between running from the past forever, or risking everything to take back her life. -11/23/10

[southaustinlocation]

Sexscapes: The Internet Gives a Voice to the Perverts of the World

Ever since it reached a level of general western-world ubiquity sometime in the 2000s, it has been widely accepted that the internet is one of humanity’s most ingenious inventions. The ways humans interact and connect with one another world-wide has been changed so fundamentally that to describe them would seem futuristic and absurd to twenty-year old incarnations of my now aged grandparents. Sites like Wikipedia, Google, and YouTube have not only entered the lexicon, but have also become invaluable research tools for the average individual curious to discover more about the world at large. Soon, it seems, it will be difficult even to find a cellular phone plan that doesn’t require paying for round-the-clock internet access as part of the basic contract.

For the first time in the history of our species, information and knowledge have become more or less democratized [though it can be argued that inherent class discrepancies lead to the fact that those who are unable to afford internet access, i.e. the bottom rung of the socioeconomic strata, now face more obstacles than ever when attempting upward social and economic mobility], and it would seem the average internet user has few excuses not to continue their education far past their formative school years.

But the human capacity for perversion should never be underestimated.

According to some not-so-groundbreaking research (mine), the internet, along with being one of the final bastions and troves of limitless, easily accessible knowledge available to an increasingly apathetic and dumbed-down populace, is used primarily for two main purposes: “trolling” (the sending of inflammatory or provocative messages purposefully crafted with the expectation that this initial message will elicit equally negative responses, or, if the troll is particularly lucky or adept, the commencement of an all out “flame-war”); and, of course, the viewing of pornography. Both of these purposes being symptoms of the altogether larger first-world problems of boredom and a general and ever growing inability to empathize with other sapient beings.

However stark and socially pertinent, none of this should come as particularly surprising or new information. Since pretty much its first widespread public use, the internet and perversion go together like cops and child molesters in prison (the metaphor, of course, falling short at the fact that, unlike prison, where police officers and pederasts meet up in protective custody—the smaller, secluded group of the prison at large—the perverts of the internet are the general population). Hell, one of my first experiences with the internet was when I was twelve and I didn’t have it, but my next door neighbor did, so every afternoon I’d go over to his house and, sitting in the side room of the garage where his family computer was kept, we’d burn through his AOL hours disc by logging onto AOL Instant Messenger and asking strangers if they “got pics?” Then, after inevitably getting bored with this game, searching for naked pictures of the girl from Seventh Heaven (no, not Jessica Biel, who actually had semi-nude photos published in Gear magazine around this time, but the slightly more homely Beverley Mitchell, for some reason).

But that was back in the Wild West frontier days of World Wide Web-based perversion and sexual curiosity. These days, perverts are no longer cloistered away to obscene chat sites. Instead, with the inception of so-called “porn 2.0”—tube sites such as Youjizz, YouPorn, PornoTube, PornTube (distinct from “PornoTube”—common mistake), FuckTube and BookpornTube (compelling name, I must admit, though surprisingly unliterary in the final analysis)—the perverted majority of the internet finally have a way to truly interconnect with one another: rubbing them out to the same videos as thousands of other horny people.

Someone, however, decided the perverts of the interweb weren’t connected enough by these shared masturbatory stimuli. Somewhere down the line, apparently, the question was asked at a pornographic video tube site board meeting: what happens when the trolls of the internet are given a medium with which they can broadcast far and wide to other trolls and pervert-trolls, just how they, as an individual and lonely troll caught in the vastness and potentially infinite wisdom of cyberspace, feel about a particular pornographic video? This led to the somewhat alarming decision to begin including “comments” sections for each video on many of the more popular tube sites.

In an effort to try and better understand the perverts of the internet (myself included), I decided, at great risk to my personal sanity and computer security, to browse through a varying array of these comment sections to see what I could glean from the pervert-trolls of the internet. Interestingly, the results actually managed to be profoundly disturbing in ways that superseded my already sordid expectations. With the hopes of not encouraging additional traffic to any of the sites, many of which are hosted in foreign countries, thus allowing the sites to avoid prosecution for the hosting of copyrighted material and in turn denying profit to the hardworking men and women of the pornographic industry (yes, that previous sentence was completely serious), I will be withholding the names of the sites in question, though I will be providing my notoriously stringent editor with URLs for all of the videos in question. Videos will be chosen the same way I choose which Wikipedia articles I’m going to read to kill time: I will start at the homepage and see what looks interesting until I’m inevitably led down a wormhole sticky with wasted-time and shame and regret.

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Video One: “Retail Store Creampie”

The Video:

I’ll start first with what appears to be a short excerpt taken from a longer film. The video has seven comments and an overall rating of 88.50% with 554 “Good” votes, and 72 “Bad” votes. The video is four minutes and six seconds long and depicts a young woman in a green shirt getting plowed by a guy with a shitty tattoo on his ribs. Throughout the video she makes some fake moany noises and says things like “fuck me.” Also, she’s getting banged in a store on a clearance rack for some reason. Pretty standard porn territory.

The Comments:

Comments range from the coherent, if subject-ambiguous, “nice cock. Love his pussy pounding, wish it was me,” to people being pissed about false advertising in the title of the video, “not a creampie stupid,” and, “THAT WAS NOT A CREAMPIE MOTHERFUCKERS!!!” Then there is the somewhat baffling, “can’t stand those fake moans, quiet moans are hot, but not those fake-ass American-hoe ones. FUCK YOU AMERICAN ASSHOLES. WHITEPOWER!!!”

(Reader, take note that this last comment, left 07/31/2010 at 1:12 am, is a classic example of trolling. Notice how the comment doesn’t make sense, but implores others to reply defensively.)

What I learned:

The art of trolling is alive and well in porn comments. Also, if your video promises a creampie (sex act—you can look it up your damn self), you’d better deliver. Otherwise, people will call you names like “stooped.”

Video Two: “Barely Legal Casting”

The Video:

With a total of twenty-four comments, this video has 1,484 votes with an 86% positive rating and 1,714,761 views. It was added to this particular site eight months ago which means that this video is watched roughly 7,030 times per day. The video is part of the “Backroom Casting Couch” series of videos. It is a “reality” porn series, where a middle-aged dude, face always blurred out, has unprotected sex with women, many of them girls who appear to be amateurs and in their late teens. In this video the man asks a girl who claims to be eighteen, but could pass for fifteen, a whole bunch of awkward questions about sex, which she answers in a way that either highlights a strong history of character acting, or simply belies her actual sexual greenness. The man then proceeds to have her strip in front of the camera, ostensibly as part of a casting process. After sexing her up against a wall, he ejaculates on her face in a close-up that is really just creepy and left me feeling not aroused, as porn should, but rather cold inside.

The Comments:

Highlights include the somewhat racist, “have you ever done any black chicks? Or are you afraid that they’ll find out & shoot you? LOL” by someone named Bonezz_11 (his profile picture shows a shirtless dude with sunglasses and a visor blowing out some sort of smoke, and under “more info” he is listed as a twenty-two year old male who has been actively using this particular site for over two years and has watched 2,224 videos, giving him an average of three porn videos per day); the perverted, “daddys girl exploited, love it,” and, the misogynistic, “she looks hot with a dick in her mouth, but other than that, not so cute. too tiny,” by Freaknasty831, whose profile picture is an erect penis.

What I learned: (Besides how many porn videos Zach Bonezz_11 watches per day.)

That the American public education system is profoundly failing to teach its youngsters that riddling your text with comma splices makes you look like a total dumbass.

But, my porn comment research did lead me in an educational direction. Additional research into the authenticity of the Backroom Casting Couch series revealed that the male “star” of the videos is an Arizona man named Eric Whitaker, and that he totally has Herpes Simplex Virus Type I (he released proof through his Twitter account for some reason). The girls in the video are paid a flat fee up front, and are fully aware that they are entering Whitaker’s sleazy as hell Scottsdale office to have sex on camera, though apparently Whitaker has no qualms about knowingly spreading his Herpes, an offense which in the state of Arizona could possibly be considered aggravated assault.

Since June 2011, the greasy fuck Whitaker has been on the radar of sex crime detectives.

Next month Anderson continues to probe the porno-troll world and stumbles across a sex scandal involving a senator’s daughter.

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